*
Seteal drifted, disembodied, through the woods. A ramshackle building, overgrown with weeds and foliage, appeared before her. Inside the building, a young woman slept on a dilapidated bed. Her head rested without a pillow and an old blanket had been thrown over her without too much care. The young woman had a small frame. Her hair was a boring brunette and her features were nothing outside of the ordinary. Although the woman’s eyelids were shut, Seteal knew that behind them sat radiantly coloured hazel eyes, one of her few redeeming features. Seteal knew this because the woman was her.
Opening her eyes, she glanced about her surroundings. Seteal was inside a run-down building that bore a striking resemblance to the one in her dream. The paint was peeling from the walls and large cracks had formed, through which plant life worked tirelessly to get inside. The only pieces of furniture were the bed in which Seteal rested and a wooden chair beside it. There, the peculiar old man was perched patiently, his features revealing an oddly familiar expression.
‘You’re awake,’ he announced. ‘You’re a determined little thing, aren’t you?’
‘Where am I?’ Seteal pushed herself upright, only to collapse beneath a heavy wave of exhaustion.
‘Give yourself time, girl,’ the man urged, leaning forward concernedly. ‘Artificial sleep can be rather deep. Just wait a moment or two and you’ll feel much better.’
Seteal nodded automatically and rested her head. Ordinarily she’d have fought violently to escape such a situation, but the exhaustion was overwhelming.
‘My name is Gil’rei Far-a-mael.’ The man stroked his white beard. ‘But you should address me as Gil’rei. When you’ve rested a little, come and join me in the next room. We have much to discuss.’ With surprising agility, Far-a-mael swept toward the door and closed it behind him.
Seteal stared at the sunken ceiling, curling and uncurling her fingers. Her head felt clouded, even peaceful. It was frustrating. A part of her mind was screaming in the distance. Peace was the last thing she should’ve been feeling. Seteal was in grave danger.
With a soft moan, she put her bare feet on the floorboards and felt about until she found her boots. When standing proved not to be too much of a challenge, Seteal made her way to the door and turned the handle silently. It wasn’t locked. She pushed it open and entered the next room.
‘For the love of Maker!’ Far-a-mael exclaimed from his place at a large table. ‘I told you to rest.’
‘I’m fine.’ Seteal shook her head, her senses slowly returning. ‘Where have you taken me? What do you want from me?’
‘All in good time.’ Keeping his peculiar white pupils fixed on Seteal, Far-a-mael gestured toward the only remaining chair. ‘Sit down. I won’t bite.’
‘What did you do to my father?’ Seteal put a hand over her mouth, memories flooding her with fear. ‘You . . . you need to take me home.’
‘Sit,’ Far-a-mael repeated.
‘Yes, Gil’rei,’ Seteal murmured, having felt an overwhelming compulsion to do as he’d ordered.
‘First of all.’ Far-a-mael rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward. ‘El-i-miir and myself are Elglair, in case you hadn’t yet worked that out.’
‘Elglair? You’re from the Frozen Lands?’ Seteal’s eyes widened in astonishment. ‘I didn’t think your sort ever travelled this far south.’
‘We avoid it whenever we can.’ Far-a-mael looked about the room disdainfully. ‘I was sent here on important business: the business of collecting you.’
‘Collecting me?’ Seteal narrowed her eyes irritably. ‘I’m not a possession. What reasonable explanation could you have for abducting me?’
‘We didn’t want to abduct you, you silly little girl.’ Far-a-mael waved his hand dismissively. ‘Your father resisted us. He left us little alternative.’
‘And that’s how you get your way, is it?’ Seteal said disdainfully and stood up so forcefully that her chair struck the wall. ‘You just kidnap people when they don’t do as they’re told? Well, I’ve never come across anyone so despicable.’
‘Be careful, child,’ Far-a-mael cautioned, planting his hands firmly on the table as he rose to his feet. ‘Sit down and I’ll explain.’
‘Child?’ Seteal spat furiously. ‘I’m hardly a child. How dare you treat me like one.’
‘You are a child,’ Far-a-mael chuckled mirthlessly. ‘How old are you, eighteen?’
‘Nineteen.’ The defiance was clear in Seteal’s voice.
‘Dear girl.’ Far-a-mael laughed aloud, ‘I very recently celebrated my one hundred and seventy-fourth birthday. As far as I’m concerned, you’re a child.’
‘That’s impossible,’ Seteal said, slowly retaking her seat. ‘No one lives that long.’
‘If you knew anything about the Elglair, you’d know that we’re notoriously long-lived,’ Far-a-mael said calmly as he too sat back down. ‘And, of course, that brings us back to the matter at hand.’
‘Go on, then,’ Seteal encouraged, thrown off-balance by the man’s age. ‘What’s your excuse for turning my father into a sock puppet and taking me from my home?’
‘We know, Seteal.’ Far-a-mael looked her in the eye. ‘We know about you.’
‘You know what?’
‘Don’t be coy,’ Far-a-mael cautioned. ‘You’ve touched the Ways. You’ve experienced the knowing.’
Seteal fidgeted uncomfortably. ‘I’m not sure what you mean.’
‘The Way of things,’ Far-a-mael murmured. ‘You know the Way of the future.’
‘Nonsense.’ Seteal rocked back in her chair. She didn’t know why it was so important to keep her secret, but these people had strayed far from gaining her trust. ‘I’m just an ordinary girl from a small town.’
‘You’re half Elglair,’ Far-a-mael stated without emotion, although his face betrayed him, revealing disgust. ‘I knew your mother very well, so you needn’t bother denying it.’
‘You knew my mother? She wasn’t Elglair. I’d have known,’ Seteal finished with more certainty than she felt. Did she remember a similar set of strange eyes in some distant memory? Had white pupils once served as a comfort as they watched her fall asleep?
‘Jil-e-an,’ Far-a-mael appeared to lose his composure, if only for a moment as the name rolled off his tongue. His eyes became focused on something far away and long ago. ‘That foolish girl. She could’ve had it all. Instead she ran away with an outlander.’ Far-a-mael’s face bore an expression of undisguised repulsion. ‘Your father.’
‘But Father would’ve told me.’ Seteal gripped the table. ‘That’s not even how we pronounce mother’s name.’
‘Of course Gifn didn’t tell you.’ Far-a-mael stared at her pityingly. ‘What would a strong spirited young lady such as yourself be likely to do had she found out the truth?’
‘I’d have travelled to the Frozen Lands to find out more about my mother,’ Seteal replied hesitantly.
‘And what would any sensible outlander not want his daughter to do?’
‘You’ve made your point.’ Seteal raised her eyebrows. ‘Still, I refuse to believe that I’m half Elglair. My eyes are normal and mother’s name was Jillian.’
‘Normal?’ Far-a-mael chuckled. ‘Normalcy depends merely on where you come from, my dear. In any case, with mixed race relationships, the Elglair eye is always the first thing to fade. The darkness of the outlander pupil pollutes the white and overwhelms it. As for your mother’s name, it’s likely she modified the spelling and changed the pronunciation to better fit in amongst outlanders.’
Seteal leaned back thoughtfully and stared at the entrance in time to see El-i-miir come inside. ‘I’ve tied up the horses and given them water, Gil’rei,’ the young woman murmured with a kind of forced respect.
‘Very good.’ Far-a-mael waved his hand to dismiss her.
‘So why did you take me by force . . . or at all?’ Seteal raised the constantly nagging question. ‘What do you intend to do with me?’
‘What do we
intend to do with you?’ Far-a-mael behaved as though the question surprised him. ‘The question would be better put, what do you intend to do with you?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘There is a grave problem that arises for half-caste Elgair.’ Far-a-mael’s tone became serious. ‘You lack the natural instincts required to control your connection to the Ways and without special training they will overwhelm and kill you. It’s really only a matter of time.’
‘Maker,’ Seteal gasped. ‘But I feel fine.’
‘Of course you do.’ The elderly man shrugged. ‘But surely you’ve noticed an increase in the frequency and severity of your episodes?’
‘I suppose.’ Seteal frowned and crossed her arms.
‘Then your connection is getting stronger,’ Far-a-mael urged. ‘It must be restrained.’
El-i-miir made a sound of contempt, headed back outside and slammed the door behind her. ‘Is she okay?’ Seteal asked.
‘Never mind her,’ Far-a-mael replied calmly, but his eyes defied him, burning furiously after the woman. ‘She is an insolent child.’
‘So why do you care about me?’ Seteal asked suspiciously.
‘What do you mean?’
‘From what I’ve read, the Elglair don’t much care for outsiders and even less so for half-castes,’ Seteal said quizzically. ‘Why would you bother coming for me? What’s in it for you?’
Far-a-mael seemed surprised by this, sitting back forcibly. ‘Well . . . you’re very powerful. The silver glass--’
‘What’s that?’ Seteal cut him off.
‘What’s what?’
‘The silver glass.’
‘It’s rather hard to explain.’ Far-a-mael scratched his chin through his beard. ‘It’s not particularly relevant, but I suppose it couldn’t hurt to tell you. It’s much like a standing mirror, but instead of your reflection it shows the outline of places or people in distant locations. We’re not quite sure how it works, as it’s quite an ancient artefact, but wherever there is a decent breeze, the silver glass provides the viewer with an image. One day, you simply popped up before me and I realised who you were and how much potential you had.’
‘Potential for what?’
‘Whatever you want.’ Far-a-mael shrugged. ‘The point is, you took my interest enough that I refused to let you slip away and die. You should be grateful. By torrid, girl, I’ve come to save your life!’
‘All right.’ Seteal nodded, finally coming to accept the old man’s story. After all, she had seen the future on many occasions and his explanation was reasonable. Even her kidnapping--in a way--she’d sensed coming. ‘What do I need to know to stop it?’
‘Oh, dear.’ Far-a-mael slapped his knee and burst out laughing. ‘You want me to tell you right now?’
‘Why not?’ Seteal scowled. ‘Then I can go home and have words with Father as to why he’s kept all this from me.’
‘Dear girl,’ Far-a-mael somewhat startlingly smiled--almost affectionately. ‘It’ll take months of training before you’re fit to return home. I fear your condition has already progressed dangerously far.’
‘What’re you saying?’ Seteal glanced about the room apprehensively. ‘I can’t stay here . . . wherever here is.’
‘Of course not.’ Far-a-mael shook his head. ‘You must come with us to the Frozen Lands where you can be properly trained. El-i-miir will be graduating soon and I’ll be able to give you my undivided attention.’
‘But what about my father?’ Seteal asked.
‘What about him?’
‘I can’t just leave without any explanation.’ Seteal waved her hand in frustration. ‘He needs me. We have a business to tend.’
‘I’m afraid you’ll have to,’ Far-a-mael replied sternly. ‘As it is, we’re running out of time. Never fear, you’ll be able to reach him by letter once we’ve arrived in the Frozen Lands.’
‘By letter?’ Seteal said in alarm. ‘It’ll take weeks to get there! Father will be worried sick. Why couldn’t you just have explained all this at home, rather than knocking me out and kidnapping me?’ Seteal stood up heatedly, now doubting everything the stranger had said. ‘How can I trust you?’
There was a slight pause in which Far-a-mael opened his mouth to respond, but an unrecognisably loud sound tore through the room and stole the words from his lips. Far-a-mael and Seteal stared at each other in silent apprehension when a rumbling thud and a shrill scream pierced the silent night. ‘El-i-miir!’ Far-a-mael’s eyes shone protectively as he threw back his chair and lurched away from the table.
As the old man charged toward the door, the entire wall that housed it exploded, sending dust and debris spraying across the floorboards. Far-a-mael shoved Seteal under the table and turned again to the scene outside.
El-i-miir’s delicate form was crumpled beyond the spot where the door had been moments earlier. A frightening beast shrieked beside her and gnashed its hooked beak menacingly. The creature stood at least three times the height of a man, closely resembling a giant vulture or some deformed bird of prey. The beast ruffled its feathers and shrieked again, its golden eyes fixed on Seteal.
CHAPTER TWO
IN THESE WOODS
The Inner Circle: The Knowing Page 6