ã€ŠThe Fickle Winds of Autumnã€‹


 1. An Epilogue

    The exhausted priest groaned in agony as the writhing vines squeezed tighter around his limbs and chest, burning deep into the red of his flesh, pinning him helplessly to the huge gnarled trunk of the ancient oak tree.

    His weakened body strained against the shocking waves of pain that coursed through his vulnerable frame; terror forced the frozen blood in his veins to respond to the desperate tremble of his quaking heart.

    He could no longer hold his weeping head up; it slumped forward under the weight of his despair and fatigue.

    ¡°Please! Mercy!¡± he managed to sob.

    Against the evening gloom of the deep forest, a dark, shimmering figure loomed up before him with a predatory menace. Its head snaked towards him and seemed to peer hard into his stupefied eyes, sniffing at the horror etched across his face.

    He struggled to recoil from its leering presence, and drew on his final reserves of willpower, straining with the effort to pull his aching head away; but the burning vines held him fast.

    He looked down, desperate to avoid the gaze of the harrowing figure before him; but he could not bear the awful trauma of staring at the lifeless bodies of his guards and formerpanions as theyy scattered on the forest floor around him; the recent horrors of their fate still fresh in his shattered mind; their bright ceremonial robes now mingled and mixed with the bronzed decaying harvest of Autumn¡¯s first fallen leaves.

    His startled eyes caught a glimpse of his own once-proud garments; now shabby and tattered; torn with the damp of his fearful tears. But this fevered twitch of his terrified eyes only brought his bewildered senses back into contact with the living desecration which lingered threateningly before him.

    He was barely able to focus on the shifting, animated form, which seemed little more than a rough entanglement of sinuous roots and vines, coiled together into the rude, agitated, pulsing outline of a woman.

    The air was still thick with the nightmare residue of her violent magik; its stench scrambled with the moist, earthypost of the dense woond.

    Fresh waves of unnatural pain crashed through his body, assaulting and shredding his fraying nerves and mind, as a further surging jolt of intense malevolent energy vited his wretched frame.

    He ground his teeth in tormented anguish and thrashed his head against the stinging affliction; scouring the scene of his torture, desperate to flee this excruciating despair; but the secluded hollow of the forest, where the dark-green velvet moss had trapped everything beneath the dense web of its lush carpet, offered no hope of escape.

    An unexpected fog had closed in and nked out the surroundings, its wet fingers grasped at the epassing trees; smothering them in a constricting cloak of silence, before the low early moon even had the chance to arrive and Autumn silently gathered the world into its creeping embrace.

    But even the twilight chill of the evening air had not been able to prevent the sense of ominous dread from perspiring out onto his mmy skin and trickling down his convulsing body as the spasms of tortuous pain had shocked through him.

    He had heard that witches were foul, rank creatures, but his own experience had been limited to the books and scrolls in the monastery library. But the scrolls had not prepared him for the full horror of this apparition, nor the incessant pain which twisted its way down his fragile spine. And his brain was saturated in the trembling knowledge that his first encounter with one of these dire creatures was almost certain to be hisst.

    If he could but muster the strength, he could cry out for help; but he knew that no-one would ever hear him in the sifting depths of the forest - especially not at that time of the evening, so far away from the walked paths of man. And all the loudness of his voice was already exhausted; haemorrhaged away by the anguish of his screams and swallowed up by the bitter taste of dread which lingered on his tongue.

    ¡°Please!¡± he sobbed. ¡°I have told you everything I know. Show mercy, I beg you!¡±

    ¡°Mercy?¡± hissed the creature before him, her voice crackling with scornful derision.

    Her body ceased its constant shimmering, worming vibrations and focused all its stilled attention on the near paralysed victim, pinioned to the tree.

    It appeared to stare deep into his pallid face, with its cataract blinded eyes. Deep into his very soul. He feared he had angered his tormentor further as the withered blood drained from his numbed cheeks. He hardly dared open his mouth to draw in a breath.

    ¡°When has the world of men ever shown mercy to my sisters and I?¡± the creature finally continued. ¡°When have our forests been left in peace? You take our trees for your houses and fires; what mercy is ever shown to us in your bottomless greed?¡±

    She snaked her ttened face towards him; closer still, invading and intimidating; her deep inquisitiveness peering and threatening his shattered sanity; trying to smell the truth of any reply he could make.

    The priest winced and tried to pull his face away as her embittered breath burned into his nostrils; his fingers scratched at the rough bark of the tree behind him; pawing, desperate to escape the ordeal. But the solid tree held him fast.

    A rising surge of fear welled up within him as the foetid odour from the desecrated flesh of hispanions rose once more to remind him of their appalling fate.N?velDrama.Org exclusive content.

    The thick serpent web of vines which bound him grew more violent, sharing the witch¡¯s indignant anger. It gripped him tighter, pining him with the bitter strength of all its memories at the losses the forest had suffered.

    The priest had hoped that his faith would lend him sour against this iniquitous agony, that the Great Surrounder would respond to his prayer and ease this miserable torment; but his bones and flesh sang out to a different tune, and he realised that his love for the written word of the Venerated Opus would not bring salvation.

    His breath came shallow andboured; he struggled to reply; to offer up a feeble bargaining for his life; but his voice failed him now, like the rest of his shattered body, cracked and broken from the despair of his screams, which had fractured the grim twilight and the abandoned silence of the darkening forest.

    ¡°Pp..please!¡± he gasped, as the stinging torture crushed thest hope from his forlorn lungs.

    But the feeble sound of his voice was swallowed up by the thick abundance of moss and the mist-mired stillness of the evening.

    ¡°Yes,¡± said the witch at length in a hollow tone: ¡°I will show you mercy - the only mercy your kind deserve!¡±

    His fearful eyes widened with bulging horror as she reached out both her sinuous arms towards his head. He tried with onest desperate effort to pull away from her grasp, to save his life, to save his very soul from her damnation; but was powerless to prevent the acid touch of her fingers worming into his skull as she calmly gripped him by his temples and sped his quaking head between her hands.

    He watched transfixed as her cataract-blinded eyes suddenly cleared to a bright burning yellow; they shone out, luminous against the dimming half-light. Her arms began to shift in a deep golden glow, swirling with strange signs and symbols, buried deep within her shimmering limbs, gathering in their fervent intensity until they too red out through the low evening mist which had entwined itself around them.

    The priest cried out in unutterable, unending pain, his tears and sweat and mucus choking thest of his horrified breath; overwhelmed by the excruciating void of dark suffering, as his legs and body crumbled away from beneath him, dissolving into a million tiny sparks and embers; screaming out in tortured agony, endlessly, as his incinerated remains were blown away in a swirling mist of ash and fiery particles, disbursed by the breath of the all-consuming forest, leaving only his disembodied head, held aloft momentarily by the triumphant witch; until that too fragmented and copsed into a cascade of glowing shards, so that nothing remained of the unfortunate cleric but the scent of his insidious terror.

    The agitated vines around the oak slowly released the bitter anger of their tendrils and sank back into the gnarled bark of the ancient tree.

    The burning, wrathful brightness of the witches¡¯ eyes diminished, and a sightless, cloudy mist descended across them once more.

    The symbols in her arms still glowing, she reached out towards the other bodies which were strewn across the ground. Their remains red and flickered briefly against the reclusive evening and the shadows of the woonds, then disintegrated.

    ¡°Feed my precious ones,¡± she said quietly.

    The earth around her began to twist and contort; rumbling from deep beneath the litter of the forest floor, as the roots of the surrounding trees rustled and writhed into life; worming their way up through the damp soil, twitching hungrily towards the remains of the priest and the scattered ashes of hispanions.

    High in the branches above, a solitary rook took flight, his twilight roost disturbed by the noises and movement of the scene below. Its sombre wings rattled out a intive p; the mournful rasping of its sadment delivered a eulogy to the chill evening air.

    The witch observed as the residue of the humans was consumed; lost to the world of men, absorbed beneath the soil; and seemed satisfied with her work.

    ¡°My sisters will soon learn of everything that has passed here,¡± she hissed softly to herself; thennguidly extended the coils of her serpentine body and disappeared into the dark folds of the forest night.

 2. Pikelets for Breakfast

    Kira walked along the dim unlit corridor away from the refectory and allowed the convent walls to y with her fingertips; their rough, cold stones smoothed down with the use of centuries.

    The sweet, warming smell of breakfast still lingered tantalisingly in the cloistered air and mingled with the incense of morning worship.

    She bumped and brushed past the bodies of her ssmates, who had already begun to line up in the gloom of the passageway, forming a neat impatient row in their best uniforms and lc cloaks.

    ¡°You¡¯re going the wrong way!¡± grumbled Sara.

    ¡°As usual!¡± added Meg.

    ¡°We¡¯ve been waiting ages for you!¡±

    ¡°Do hurry up! Why do you always have to spoil it for everyone else?¡±ined Hettie.

    Kira felt the pull of conflicting desires. She was keen to do as she was bid - to put on her cloak and join the queue; to line up and file out through the Western Doors; to finally have the chance to breathe the natural air outside the walls; to escape the stuffy conventions of the Nunnery, with its rules and regtions; its strict time-keeping, ordered by the unfeeling bells; to end the drudgery of a lifetime of the subdued, unending corridors; the restricting, candle-lit rooms and alcoves. Her pulse quickened at the prospect of being able to see and smell and taste the outer-world for herself at longst.

    And this was her chance; the opportunity she was desperate to seize.

    She had heard of the glories of the daylight - but had never been allowed to look upon it; for hers was not to gaze upon the varied wonders of the Great Surrounder, but to worship the harmonies and purity of the silvered Moon.

    What would the day-sky really be like? What was the truth behind its unending blueness?

    Perhaps there would be houses and trees and people? Who really knew what sounds and sightsy beyond the convent walls?

    To finally have a chance to see the outside world - if only for a few hours or days! This had been her fondest dream for as far back as she could think. And if this also brought with it the added bonus of missing a few lessons, then so much the better!

    Her ssmates had spoken of nothing else for thest week, and the buzz of excited anticipation filled the narrow corridor.

    Kira¡¯s skin had tingled to goosebumps when she first heard the news, and she thrilled at the prospect of joining them soon: but for now, the urgency of another matter upied her mind, and the slight warm bulge of the sweet breakfast pikelet hidden deep in her robe pocket, pushed Kira onward as she continued to jostle her way along the corridor against the flow of her restive ssmates.

    She had almost made it past the ire of the other girls when, at the far end of the line, two of them began to squabble about their cloaks. Kira turned her head to better hear themotion, but kept walking forward, and in the dark of the narrow corridor, her bustling progress was suddenly halted by the staunch, immobile figure of arge rotund body.

    The frozen blood sank and drained from Kira¡¯s heart.

    Her panicked senses told her instantly that she had collided with the solid imposing form of Sister Amelia Constance.

    She gasped at her clumsy mistake and shuddered to her core in fearful anticipation of the vehement scolding that was sure to follow. Her nervous fingers felt for the contraband food in her pocket; she was certain the austere nun would detect it.

    ¡°Kira! Why aren¡¯t you lining up with the others? I knew you¡¯d be trouble! Worthless little good-for-nothing!¡± began the gracious Sister.

    ¡°We¡¯re only allowing you to go out because the other girls are too ill to travel - not that you deserve or appreciate such a rare privilege!¡±

    Kira¡¯s heart thumped hard in her chest as she tried to casually move her hand to cover the lump in her robe; the hidden pikelet shrank and wilted in queasy sympathy with her situation.

    She was sure to be punished if she was caught. To be punished was one thing, but to risk the wrath of Sister Amelia Constance was quite another. And the journey out of the convent - would they even let her go? After all these years of pining for some sort of freedom from the dismal confines of the cloistered walls; all her dreams and hopes of escape; her one chance to finally see the sky and breathe the air of the outer-world, was now certainly doomed.

    ¡°One simple job to do and you can¡¯t even manage that properly! Or on time! Typical!¡± continued the good Sister.

    The gloom of the corridor, or the earliness of the hour, did not shield Kira from the full re of the Sister¡¯s fierce scowl.

    Perhaps the heavy palpitation of her heart would betray her? Or the prickling blood rising and burning in her cheeks? Or the sweet, happy smell of the pikelet drifting up from her pocket, which no amount of ceremonial incense could ever hope to cover? Surely the gimlet sharp eyes of the nun would root out the illicit food she was smuggling in her clothing?

    Some of the younger girls even imed that Sister Amelia could see straight through the stone of the nunnery walls; what chance did she have against that?

    A sharp, burning anxiety welled up from her stomach.This belongs to N?velDrama.Org - ?.

    She was bound to be caught and then she would be for it - weeks of punishment on end. And extra chores. And maths-lessons. Oh, how she hated maths-lessons! What even was the point of them?

    Perhaps it would be best to confess now and get it over with? Perhaps they would be lenient with her if she acknowledge her faults? If she repented and showed a purity of heart?

    She hesitated, then looked up at the imposing outline of the solidly built Prima Sister. Somehow her faceless silhouette, loomingrge and shapeless, in the sinister dark of the corridor, while she barked out the withering barrage of her rebuke, made her all the more terrifying.

    The Sister paused for a brief intake of breath, ready to continue her chastening flow with renewed venom.

    Kira recognised her opportunity and opened her drying mouth; her heart leaped into her pounding ears as she attempted to stutter an embarrassed apology.

    The squabblingmotion, down at the far end of the queue, erupted once more.

    The Sister jerked her head in its direction, her furious attention drawn towards this new disruption.

    ¡°What in the Surrounder¡¯s good Grace are you bickering about?¡±

    Sheunched herself past Kira and barged her way down the passageway to investigate.

    ¡°Woe betide the pair of you when I get there!¡±

    Kira hardly dared believe her luck. Her heart still thudded with pent up adrenaline; but not wanting to waste her chance, she tip-toed away in breathless silence, determined to continue her journey.

    She knew she was alreadyte for the queue; and that she had nearly been caught: but, with the Prima¡¯s stern warnings still ringing deep in her glowing ears, Kira also knew she had an appointment that she needed to keep.

 3. Ambers Room

    The door to the chamber creaked slowly as Kira eased it open, but the distant sound of the disruption in the corridor covered the slight noise as she stepped in and closed it behind her. She let out a huge sigh of relief as the fluttering palpitations of her heart began to quiet and steady, and her blood started to circte properly once more, safe from the booming terror of Sister Amelia.

    She walked across the small whitewashed room and sat down on the low bed, which creaked beneath her slight weight. By the modest light of the two candles, glowing brightly in the alcoves at either side of the room, she looked down on the pallid face of her drowsy friend, who was tucked deep beneath the nkets.

    ¡°Are you feeling any better?¡± asked Kira.

    ¡°Well, a little,¡± replied Amber; her eyes, watery and reddened by illness, contrasted with her pale skin. ¡°But should you be here? I mean, isn¡¯t it today?¡±

    ¡°Yes, the others are already lined up ready to go; but I just had to check on you first.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t get into any trouble on my ount; you know how Sister Amelia gets.¡±

    ¡°Yes, only too well! You don¡¯t need to remind me!¡±

    ¡°Wait a minute,¡± said Amber as her nose twitched with curiosity: ¡°I can smell pikelets!¡±

    ¡°Oh yes! I almost forgot!¡± said Kira. She reached down into the warmth of her pocket and handed the prized breakfast food to her friend.Content provided by N?velDrama.Org.

    Kira smiled to herself as the tempting aroma of the honeyed pancake seemed to perk Amber up considerably.

    ¡°But I thought these were your favourites?¡±

    ¡°You know they are! But, I couldn¡¯t sleep very wellst night and I wasn¡¯t really feeling that hungry this morning; my tummy just wouldn¡¯t settle. I don¡¯t know, perhaps it¡¯s the all excitement of finally getting out of this ce and seeing some of the real world. So I thought you might enjoy it as you couldn¡¯t get up to go into breakfast yourself today. But there can¡¯t be too much wrong with you if you can still smell pikelets!¡±

    ¡°No, I¡¯m definitely a bit better - but not well enough to travel - not like you, lucky thing! But how did you get it past Sister Amelia? If she¡¯d caught you with food outside the refectory¡­ I can¡¯t think what she would have done.¡±

    ¡°Well, I couldn¡¯t just leave you here all alone and hungry, while I go off to see the world.¡±

    ¡°Yes, typical of my luck!¡± Amberined through a croaky, strained voice. ¡°All those sses and study for nothing! I finally get a chance to do something useful and take part in an actual ceremony out in the real world, and I¡¯m too ill to go! I¡¯m so jealous!¡±

    ¡°Mmm, sorry about that.¡±

    ¡°Still, I¡¯m pleased it at least gives one of us an opportunity to see the outside. And I want a full report when you get back.¡±

    Kira searched her feelings, but wasn¡¯t sure how to reply. She was excited and knew she definitely wanted to go, rather than be stuck behind the same boring walls she had lived in all her life. But she had never known anything or anywhere else; and now, as the departure time grew ever closer, her stomach churned with nervousness at the overwhelming prospect of having to leave behind all she had ever known, and the safe, dependable boundaries of the sacred institution.

    And she would have to leave Amber behind too.

    She thought of all the time they had spent together. Closer than any sisters could ever be.

    How they had relied on each others¡¯pany over the years, growing up in the cold istion of the gloomy nunnery. Each making the other¡¯s dull monotonous life seem somehow more bearable and worthwhile; the simple games of trying to jump on each other¡¯s dancing candle-lit shadows. They had been inseparable since she could remember, and Kira could not imagine how empty and miserable her life would have been without such a friend.

    They had even grown to be a little alike too: they were both the same age and of simr height; but above all, their chestnut hair colour was an almost exact match; so that when they were younger, they had often huddled up against the cold, stone winter of the convent, entangling their brown locks together, pretending to be baby squirrels with their tails tied in an unfathomable knot.

    From across the courtyard, the sonorous Chantry Bell rang out its bass chime.

    Lost in her thoughts, Kira was startled by its solemn tone. She nced nervously at Amber - they both knew what this meant - the West Doors were about to open to allow the girls out.

    ¡°It¡¯s time. You¡¯d better go.¡± said Amber quietly.

    Kira looked around the sparse white room and suddenly felt a chill of

    fear and sadness; perhaps she might never see this familiar ce, or her dear friend, again?

    A worried anxiety welled up from the uncertain depths of her knotted stomach.

    ¡°Yes, I should go¡­¡± she said, ¡°it¡¯s just¡­ I feel so...so...I don¡¯t know!¡±

    Her inability to describe her own feelings was overwhelming and exasperating. ¡°I just seem certain that something will go wrong - I¡¯ll mess it up somehow - I always do. I never mean to, but somehow¡­¡±

    Her features creased with worry and self-doubt as she gazed at her friend. She half-moved; she should definitely go - but her reluctant body seemed weighted to the bed and refused to stand.

    Amber looked her full in the face. ¡°Courage!¡± she said resolutely.

    ¡°Yes, you¡¯re right - courage!¡± replied Kira. ¡°But all the same, I still wish you wereing with me. I mean, I¡¯m not clever or good at lessons like you¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just the nerves of leaving the convent for the first time. Don¡¯t worry.¡± said Amber, squeezing her hand.

    Kira felt the warm reassurance of Amber¡¯s friendship pressing into her palm. But as she tried to remain calm and takefort from her friend¡¯s support, the room around her suddenly lost its focus and began to swim before her eyes. She felt smaller and more distant, as a chilly draught, which arrived seemingly from nowhere, teased the candles, causing them to flicker low and gutter for a brief moment, filling the dim room with deep liquid shadows. Just for a dazzling instant, the red weakness in Amber¡¯s eyes seemed to clear as they sparked with a deep intensity, which Kira had never noticed before, briefly catching and reflecting the quivering yellow glow of the candles.

    ¡°No harm wille to you - I feel sure of it.¡± Amber said with a calm, clear conviction, in a voice which caught Kira by surprise; a voice which seemed to echo from another time and ce; remote and obscure.

    Kira jumped and recoiled slightly. She tried to pull her hand away in a moment of confused rm. But then, just as suddenly as it had started, the room pulled back sharply into focus and returned to a tranquil stability; its familiar unadorned walls were once again reassuring and whitewashed and reliable.

    The dizzying flicker of the candles steadied, and her friend, who had momentarily seemed so distant and strange, was there once again lying weakly; feeble and ill in her bed, just as she had been before.

    Kira blinked and looked around her. What could have caused such an unusual, shifting sensation?

    Perhaps her nervous anxiety at leaving the convent had been much stronger than she realised?

    Perhaps her own powerfully over-active imagination - another personal fault the nuns had repeatedly warned her about - had been enough to confuse and overwhelm her for a brief moment?

    And then of course, herck of sleep from the night before won¡¯t have helped.

    And also, she had just skipped breakfast.

    Back outside, the empty silence of the dark corridors told Kira that the other girls had already gone without her, forcing her to move quickly through the echoing stone cloisters, as she held her arms outstretched to the walls and allowed the memory of her fingertips to guide her along the familiar passageways, toward the outer doors.

    She paused in the foyer to grab her cloak and hood.

    ¡°Well, this is it!¡± she thought to herself, and then looked down to reassure her apprehensive, fluttering stomach. ¡°Courage!¡± she whispered.

    She took a final steadying breath and, for the first time in her life, headed nervously across the threshold of the doors.

 Into the Carriages

    The sharp air of the courtyard was crisp and uncluttered in contrast to the candle-smoke and incense of the interior. Kira pulled her cloak a little tighter around her shoulders as the freshness tickled at her nostrils. Already, the subtle cadences of Autumn had begun to steal the ripe warmth of Summer.

    She blinked out into the pale dimness before the dawn, across the convent grounds, shielded from the secr world by the high outer-walls. Even though the long journey was beginning before the purple of the morning had started to break, her innocent eyes were already unable to fullyprehend the vibrant colours and shapes before her: the buff and greys of the stone were like nothing she had ever experienced inside the sombre candle-light of the buildings, or the worn illustrated manuscripts on its shelves.

    The yellow lichens which clung tightly to the heavy doorway wereposed of a pte of colours and textures she had no words for.

    The vivid unspoilt re of the velvet morning reflecting up from the courtyard dirt dazzled her unustomed senses.

    And then the wide rushing emptiness of the space stretching away before her - far bigger than the broad nave of the chapel - broader even than ten naves.

    And where, across this open expanse of courtyard, were the walls that would keep her in ce and let her know where to walk? The stones she could run her fingers along forfort and direction? Where was the ceiling that would stop her from floating off, up into the sky? Or to prevent the vastness of the sky from crushing down on top of her?

    Yes, the sky.

    She hardly dared look up, for she knew that the Great Surrounder¡¯s most majestic gift to them all - the vast brightness that illuminated the world of men - was now bearing directly down on her, its most humble servant.

    And yet there it was; up above her and all around; the very thing she had been taught and read about in the dusty texts of the dull convent sses.

    So much weightless emptiness and space; and yet it wasn¡¯t even empty; for sshed across it, in delicate rhythms ofce and light, were the tiny white sparkling points of the curious stars, as they peered down at the unfolding events below, intent on examining her worthiness and the contents of her soul.

    Her chest tightened as she struggled to draw down a breath; a heavy smothering oppression overwhelmed her; a suffocating sense of anxiety and panic.

    Perhaps she should turn around and go back inside?

    Perhaps she was not deserving enough to experience such wonders?

    But this was her chance - the opportunity she had long dreamed of - she would finally get out and see the world beyond the convent and its walls. She could not afford to waste such an opening; she must hold on and realise that lifetime of yearning.

    She scrunched her toes down into the soles of her boots, determined to anchor herself in ce while the panic eased.

    ¡°Courage!¡± she murmured to herself.

    She steadied her breath as her tense stomachposed itself.

    The hectoring voice of Sister Amelia Constance brought her focus back to the courtyard.

    She hurried over to join the other twelve girls, who were huddled in a group with Sisters Enid and Maud, alongside tworge, enclosed carriages. The pulling-horses snorted plumes of breath into the dawn chill; keen to get warm and moving, as their harnesses clinked and jingled in anticipation.

    Kira felt the undisguised looks of disdain as she approached - although it was nothing she wasn¡¯t used to - and even the overbearing presence of Sister Amelia did not prevent the other girls from grumbling as she tried to smuggle herself in at the back of the group, and hide behind the tallness of Hettie.

    ¡°What took you so long?¡±

    ¡°You haven¡¯t even fastened your cloak properly yet!¡±N?velDrama.Org exclusive content.

    ¡°Do we <i>really</i> have to bring her?¡± pleaded Sara.

    ¡°Settle down girls! I won¡¯t tell you again!¡± barked the Prima Sister.

    ¡°But <i>Kira</i> - really Sister?¡± said Meg.

    Sister Amelia red sternly at the small gathering and waited for absolute silence before continuing her lecture.

    ¡°Unfortunately, at this most vital time, some of our more talented girls are too unwell to travel and must remain here in bed. As you all know, it is essential that we have thirteen of you novicee in order to produce the correct sacred harmonies; so we are left with little choice - we must make use of everyone - no matter how¡­ modest ¡­ their abilities.¡±

    The heat rose up to Kira¡¯s unwilling cheeks as, once again, all eyes looked pointedly in her direction.

    ¡°As I was saying,¡± continued Sister Amelia: ¡°you will have an important role to y in this most vital ceremony; you must support the Grand Harmonist and the other men who wield the magik. We must blend the purity of our sacred chants to theirs, lending them our focus and energy, in order to ensure the sess of this historic assignment.¡±

    A murmuring ripple of excitement buzzed through the girls. Sister Amelia pped her hands sharply to remind them of her absolute authority, before she continued in the hard silence.

    ¡°I am not permitted to tell you what the ceremony is for, or where you will be travelling - only to inform you that you will be away from us for several days - but always remember, wherever you go, you are ambassadors for the Venerated Convent of the Sinless Moon, and we rely on you to do us proud and uphold our good name.¡±

    Kira could never be quite certain how her convent home had ever eared such a worthy reputation - it didn¡¯t seem to reflect her own experiences of life between is dreary walls: but the nuns were always quick to assure her of its prestigious status whenever they were busy scolding her for hertest academic failings.

    ¡°During your journey, do not be tempted to look out of the carriage at the impurities of the profane world. Your delicate and fragile minds could never withstand such degradation. If you do ever need to leave the safety of the carriages during daylight, then be sure to fasten your hoods across your eyes - it is not seemly for youngdies to be out in the daylight - you are not men, nor should you try to be - ours is not to look at the sun, ours is the beauty and purity of the moon - but of course, true light¡­¡±,

    ¡°...is the Glory of the Surrounder who shines from within us all.¡± Kira mouthed, as she mimicked the good Sister¡¯s over-familiar mantra and mannerisms, from safely behind Hettie¡¯s back.

    ¡°That is all. Get into the carriages. May the Surrounder watch over you -and woe betide anyone who dares to misbehave while they are away!¡±

    A nervous hum of emotion thrilled across the whole group. The charged palpitations coursed through Kira¡¯s anxious limbs, exhrated and intimidated at the prospect of leaving.

    The other girls began to climb into the carriages. They had already decided amongst themselves who was to sit with whom and where - indeed their fierce night-time whisperings in the dormitory had disturbed Kira¡¯s sleep for thest few nights - although of course, no-one had ever thought to consult her during these discussions.

    She was used to beingst - an uninvited guest at the convent gatherings - and waited her turn patiently.

    She found the courage to blink up once more at the vast humbling sky. The distant stars gazed down, unrelenting in their judgement. How small she must be; how insignificant.

    Perhaps the size of the great world would swallow her up?

    She should get into the closed safety of the carriage before it had the chance; before she could be lost forever.

    ¡°Kira!¡± Sister Amelia shouted.

    Kira looked around, startled by the sudden noise. The other girls had already boarded the carriages and were waiting impatiently, staring out at her in their irritation.

    She grasped the hand-rails and climbed the steep steps. The carriage rocked slightly as she ascended and squeezed herself into its gloomy, cramped quarters.

    She was thest to board, and so was to be seated nearest the door, opposite Sister Maud; but before Kira even had the chance to get properly inside and settled, the Sister reached forward and mmed the door shut; locking it and enclosing them all in the dark confined security of the wagon.

    The sealed air of the interior was stilled and calming, not exposed to the fresh morning breeze; the seat felt solid and reassuring beneath her; the nked, featureless roof and walls would stop the world from entering and falling in on top of her.

    Kira let out a silent sigh of relief. Her eyes were grateful to be shielded from the dawn world - the confusion of its empty openness was partially lifted from her mind - but her concerns of travel were not, for she also realised that there was no going back now.

    Her stomach and heart lurched as the carriage jerked forward at the ttering noise of horses¡¯ hooves; her body struggled to cope with the strange staggered sensation of its movement; the peculiar low rumble of wheels across the courtyard.

    The Chantry Bell rang out its solemn note to indicate the opening of the Great Gates; an overwhelming sense of daunting excitement thrilled through her body; her heart thumped in unison with the dry crank of the winding mechanism; the goosebumps raced along her arms.

    The horses pulled again as the Gates creaked wide; the other girls grasped at each other¡¯s hands and murmured deep, earnest entreaties for their salvation as they stared down hard at the floor or wrinkled their eyes tightly shut.

    Kira tried to concentrate on her breath to stop herself from thinking about the enormity of what was happening; but her panicked mind refused to ignore the peril which saturated her thoughts.

    She tried to close her eyes, to shut out the overwhelming consciousness which inmed her troubled imagination; but her inquisitive senses insisted on seeing and experiencing everything; determined to drink in and absorb each memorable detail; each clue about the outside world that the dark, filtered confines of the carriage could offer.

    The low, swayingint of its wheels; the muffled, hollow thud of hooves on the track: the surge of anxious, sickening adrenaline which flooded through her with the sudden dizzying knowledge that she was out - she had passed through the gates, and would finally be able to discover for herself whaty beyond the imposing seclusion of the convent walls.

 In a Darkened Carriage

    The dark carriage rattled hard through the morning as it picked up speed on the tracks away from the convent. Kira¡¯s insides protested vigorously about its unruly motions, and her ssmates also argued with their chaperone about the ill-effects of the journey.

    ¡°But Sister, please, I don¡¯t feel well,¡± said Hettie.

    ¡°Yes, Sister, we really must stop,¡± echoed Sara.

    Next to Kira, Meg bent over double with her arms wrapped around her abdomen.

    ¡°I can feel my tummy tying itself into knots,¡± she said in a low groan.

    But the heavy queasy stirrings deep within her own stomach left Kira in no doubt that <i>she</i> must have been far sicker than any of the others; cramped into an ufortable corner of the bouncing, juddering vehicle; every stone or hole on the journey seemed to jerk her confused insides to some new depths of despair. She was d she had missed breakfast, for she felt certain she could never have held it down under these trying conditions.

    ¡°Travel sickness is all part of the Great Surrounder¡¯s good n for us.¡± Sister Maud informed them in a hollow, unfeeling tone. ¡°It is His way of ensuring that nobody ever strays too far from their rightful ce.¡±

    Long experience had taught Kira thatining would be to no avail, so she suffered in an acutely disagreeable nauseous silence, and tried to console herself with the knowledge that this disturbing, unpleasant sensation was all somehow good for her and a valuable character-forming lesson on her station in life.

    She held her agitated stomach tightly with both hands, hoping to secure it in one ce; she forced her mouth to close and breathed steadily and deeply through her nose, in an effort to keep her wilful intestines from escaping; she bit down on her lips, to stop herself from retching, determined not to give Sister Maud, or the other girls, the satisfaction of seeing how ill she really was - and certainly they all stopped groaning and fussing about it and began to chatter amongst themselves, long before Kira¡¯s tense digestive system had grown ustomed to its new surroundings and had time to catch up to the rest of her body.

    A small meshed opening in the carriage door was securely covered by a heavy ck curtain. It was not much bigger than the Sacristy window of the convent chapel, and through the testing stabs of her nausea, Kira noticed Sister Maud¡¯s fingers twitching towards it. She pulled lightly at the thick drape, as if by ident, exposing some of the fine screening grill-work behind it, and then allowed her eyes to flicker toward the shallow morning light that crept its way into the sombre carriage.

    But hadn¡¯t Sister Amelia Constance explicitly warned them not to look out at such profane seductions?

    Hadn¡¯t she lectured them thesest few days, in her sternest, darkest tones, never to stare at the wicked corrupting vanities of the outside world?

    How could Sister Maud ce herself in such mortal jeopardy?

    What would possess her to risk such a thing?

    And how could it be fair for the Sister to do this, when Kira and her ssmates were strictly forbidden from such activity?

    Kira felt the uneasy prickle of her troubled conscience. She had learned all about the iniquitous lure of the outside world and its empty vanities, and knew how wrong it would be for her to look out of the window as Sister Maud was doing; but she had never realised until now just how strong the enticing pull of its temptation could be, and how difficult it was to resist.

    She was nearest to the grill, sitting opposite the worthy Sister, so it would be all too easy for her to sumb to such corrosive vice.

    But she would not yield to its dangerous allure. She was determined to preserve the purity of her uncorrupted sanity, as Sister Amelia had urged.

    And yet, try as she might, her inquisitive eyes kept refusing to do as they were instructed; and several times she felt them blink towards the narrow opening.

    She looked away and began to recite memorised verses from the Great Scriptures, and from the Venerated Opus itself, in order to distract her mind and keep it wholesome.

    If only she had paid more attention in lessons - or if the lessons themselves had not been so dull - she might have been able to remember more of these sacred words and cling on to her unsullied soul for longer.

    She tried to think instead about all the exacting reprimands doled out to her by the austere presence of Sister Amelia Constance - but these were so plentiful it was difficult to focus on one specific speech or asion - so she found that despite her earnest intentions, her mind and eyes insisted on following their own path and straying over towards the grill.

    And anyway, surely just one little peek wouldn¡¯t hurt?

    What harm could it possibly do?

    And no-one need ever know.

    And Sister Maud seemedpletely unharmed by it all.

    And after all, this was her chance to finally see the world she had longed for, a world she had only been able to imagine during the long slow days confined to the monotonous convent life while endlessly dreaming of adventure.

    And it would almost certainly help to take her mind off her uneasy stomach.

    And Amber was relying on her - she would be waiting for a full report when she got back to the convent.

    It was almost as if she really had an obligation to purposefully look, rather than waste this opportunity and disappoint her friend.

    Kira nced around the carriage surreptitiously. The other girls were all too busy obediently looking down at the floor whilst chatting to each other to bother with her; and Sister Maud was far too interested in gazing out through the opening for herself to notice any indiscretion on Kira¡¯s part.

    So, from the safety of her lonely corner of the carriage, Kira timidly dared to allow her eyes to wander over towards the aperture.

    The low, early light was bright, but not painful - although Kira was fully prepared to endure some slight suffering if it meant she could examine the sounds and sights and the strangeness of the outer world for herself.N?velDrama.Org exclusive content.

    From the angle of her gaze, the lush mellow greens of the Autumn woods shed across her enchanted eyes; how strange and unnerving to finally look upon a real tree, rather than a picture, a tiny unfeeling image trapped between the pages of a manuscript. How wondrous. Her keen nose seemed to smell the scent of their leaves as they hovered, sometimes undecided, in tones of yellow and red; the passionate vibrancy of their colours reverberated through her marvelled mind, more brilliant and full of astonishment than the deepest reckoning of her imagination.

    The verdant textured shadows of the undergrowth; the asional bright blinks of openness through the canopy of branches, where a dazzling pink sun had risen and blushed itself across the pale sky, bathing the world in a benign soft warmth.

    It was all so fantastic and curious; so joyful and overwhelming.

    More vivid than the t tones of the Illustrated scrolls; more alive even than the colours of the Great Stained Window where the cleansing light of the high moons filtered down upon the yeartide congregations.

    And despite Sister Amelia¡¯s most dire warnings, Kira could sense no threats. From the safety of the rumbling carriage, the world seemed far more pleasant and interesting than the nk imposing walls of the convent - far more instructional even. It was almost as if the good Sister Prima had somehow been mistaken in her insistence on the absolute wickedness of the world and her upromising condemnation of its vile iniquity.

    Kira had never dared to believe that she would actually be allowed to experience such wonders for herself; and feared that she would be forced to live out her days with only the sparks of her imagination to dine on: but there it all was before her stunned senses - the true, real world - a world without walls and candle-light; without rules and bell-times and nuns; the fires of her imagination zed bright and rejoiced at these new and unending possibilities.

    Her greedy eyes pulled her ever forward out of her seat; so that at times, she found that she had ended up leaning closer to the window to drink in a better view, and had to force herself back into the firmness of the bench, in order to avoid the detection of her waywardness.

    ¡°Sister Maud, we¡¯re hungry; is it time to eat yet?¡± asked Hettie.

    The sudden unexpectedness of the voice snapped Kira back into the gloomy reality of the carriage interior, away from theforting warmth of her daydreams.

    The other girls had evidently recovered from their motion sickness, and Kira too, found that her apprehensive stomach had adapted to its new environment and was now regretting its missed breakfast.

    ¡°Yes girls,¡± said the good Sister, dragging her eyes briefly away from the window, ¡°you may eat now.¡±

    The other novicee reached for their satchels and opened up the carefully prepared parcels of food.

    As they unwrapped the white linen cloths, the confined air of the carriage began to fill with a variety of delicious aromas: fresh bread slices; sweet, dark jam that Sister Eunice had made; warm pasties and herbs and cheese; and most tantalisingly of all - the scent of honey pikelets.

    Kira¡¯s heart twisted and sank in regretful disappointment, when she realised that in her haste to exit the convent, she had forgotten to pick up her satchel and its pic lunch.

    She eyed the other girls enviously, and hoped that one of them might notice her plight and take pity on her. Her stomach grumbled its angry resentment as she suffered the torment of watching and hearing and smelling her ssmates enjoy their food.

    The rumbling carriage could not disguise the tempting crunch of Sister Iona¡¯s much-loved biscuits, or the rich delight of the savoury aroma of the slices of zed meat pie.

    Megined that she was still feeling the ill effects of motion sickness and didn¡¯t want her lunch. She passed it to her friends, who devoured it with relish, ensuring that none of the spare food found its way to Kira.

    Kira¡¯s disappointed stomach growled out its gurgling frustration louder than the rumbling wheels of the rolling carriage.

    She felt the prickling warmth flood to her cheeks as the others turned to stare at her.

    ¡°That will teach you the virtues of remembrance and preparedness,¡± said Sister Maud, in a righteous tone whichcked any trace of actual sympathy.

    But thisck of sharing or friendship came as no surprise to Kira - she had never been one of the popr girls and knew that her only friend was Amber.

    She no longer resented her position, but still often wished to join in, on asion, with her fellow ssmates.

    Although strictly forbidden by the nuns, the other girls would sometimes gather together after the candles had been snuffed out to share smuggled sweets and giggle at the prospect of bing an old shrivelled nun with drooping grey hair and a moustache, like Sister Agnes; while the more daring and adventurous among them would discuss what they remembered of their life outside the convent walls before they had joined the Order - and some, even more daringly, whispered of boys.

    How she had longed to join in with these thrilling talks, rather than listen mutely from the timid shadows of the dormitory, as the popr girls, many of whom werete-joiners and still retained vivid memories of the outside world, spun their tales over and over to their enthralled midnight audience.

    But Kira was a lifer, abandoned there as an infant, and had no knowledge or stories to tell. Her imagination was potent - at times, extraordinarily so - but that was no substitute for real experience; and she wasn¡¯t even quite sure what a boy was.

    She had quicklye to understand that her wistful longing could never change reality, and her heart whispered to her that she would never be epted as one of these leading lights: she would never be as pretty as Sara, or as clever as Hettie, nor would her boots ever be as shiny as Meg¡¯s.

    She looked down in disappointment at her own scruffy, ill-fitted footwear. How did the other girls manage to keep their boots so bright and clean? They only came up past her ankles, but there always seemed to be so much leather to polish, and so much dirt stuck to them.

    How magical and almost iprehensible those tales of life beyond the convent walls had seemed - and yet here she was, actually seeing it with her own thrilled eyes and hearing it with her excited ears.

    The woond thinned out into fields and farnd, with small houses dotted at intervals along the green rolling dales, and ripe yellow acres of harvest grain, and a distant smell of wood smoke drifting and mingling with the fresh earth and thezy autumn air.

    It was an easy and pleasant way to view the openness of the great outer world; locked up safely inside the close confines of the darkened vehicle - far less confusing than standing out in it, beneath the towering sky - and Kira found her eyes and mind had adapted to the newness of its rhythms much quicker than she had first expected.

    The carriage drew them on, its window framing the brightening, changingndscapes.

    A steep incline slowed them.

    The pull of her own weight forced Kira back into her seat, until they emerged from a thicket of trees at the top of arge high hill, and the horses paused for a well-deserved rest.

    A wide, undting valley opened out a huge patchworked vista before them of emerald and xen-brown fields, hemmed by billowing hillsides; so wide and beautiful that the tiny window could not fit it all in. The dizzying wonder of the far horizons; a disquieting loss of bnce and self. The Chronicles had spoken of His glorious world, and now Kira could begin appreciate for herself just what this might truly mean.

    They were so high up and surrounded by so much light and openness; perhaps they would even fall off the ground and drift away upwards into the greatness of His eternal sky?

    In the stifling silence, Sister Maud leant forward into the centre of the carriage. Her hushed, serious tones brought Kira back to its dark interior.

    ¡°Girls, now that we are away from the convent, the need for secrecy is over, and I can finally tell you where it is we are going, and what this journey is all about¡­.¡±

 6. The Assembly

    Father Steadman rubbed his fingers deep into the smooth arms of his canopied seat as he looked out with an uneasy concern at the sea of troubled faces which filled the Great Cathedral of Burisdon.

    He could not remember ever seeing its sacred expanses so busy - except perhaps on oecumenical days of high ceremony - but it was not the robed dignitaries of religious office who had gathered beneath the vaulted ceiling of its splendid carved stone nave, but the humble weight of his parishioners who had squashed themselves into its cavernous fold - and they had not gathered there in celebration, but in a clear and obvious state of panic and fear.

    The grand ornate columns and rich flow of delicate light from the patterned windows contrasted sharply with the general state of dishevelment of the assembled peasants, burghers, and yokels. Some had not even had sufficient upbringing to remove their hoods or the damp autumn coverings from their heads when they had entered the hallowed building; and from his position on the raised dais which dominated the western end of the nave, he watched as the swirling drifts of vapour steamed up from the anxious heated heads of his worried flock.

    The earthy smell of the muddy fields and livestock they had worked that morning,bined with the dirt from the roads they had travelled to attend the meeting, meant that the decorative brass incense burners were working overtime in an attempt to cover their odour. Their anger and concern had only added to the stench of their drab wet woollen clothes; and although the pomanders struggled bravely, unerring in their sweet smoky task, his nose told him that they were fighting a losing battle.

    His trained eyes missed little, even in the midst of such a thronging crowd, as he noted which ringleaders might spark trouble, and which were simply frightened out of their own good senses.

    There was certainly no disguising the fact that the meeting to discuss thetest appalling witch attacks had not gone well.

    Several minor clerics had addressed the frustrations of the crowd, but their words had only served to inme the situation. The unruly congregation had cowed and intimidated them, leaving the nch-faced priests to shuffle away from the lectern while trying to shrink and hide themselves inside the deep folds of their own robes.

    A general murmuring discontent had bubbled and boiled over into a shouting, jostling anger and fear of abandonment, and those with the loudest voices were keen to make their views known.

    ¡°You must act now!¡±

    ¡°Please help us!¡±

    ¡°Justst week the vige of Upper Thorndale was attacked. Men, women and children left for dead!¡±

    ¡°It will be us next - you mark my words!¡±

    ¡°All the cattle we had raised for the winter market died suddenly in the night - and we dare not eat their flesh, for the smell of witchcraft still lingers on them.¡±

    Their angry voices reverberated out across the vast sacred chamber and struck a chord deep in Steadman¡¯s memory.

    In his younger days, he had seen such panic and urgency many times: during the long nights before the morning of an important battle, when even the most experienced soldier would snap and argue; squabbling with each other under the tense burden of theing fight.

    He thought he had left these strained, restive scenes far behind him for the peaceful forgiveness and quiet of the Church; but he now understood that he had simply exchanged the onerous task of saving lives in battle, for the heavy responsibility of saving souls for all eternity.

    The restless anger of the congregation grew louder and more palpable. The assembled clerics were greatly outnumbered by the ordinary folk; several looked around and edged towards the doors, while a few turned to look up at him and the other six members of the Church hierarchy who sat with him up on the dais.

    He took care to survey the scene with a calm and devout exterior while he weighed his options. His soldiering days had taught him that a good general should never show emotion or fear to his troops; but his weary body had begun to betray him, and his haggard face could not hide the fact that thest few weeks of worry had taken their toll. The sleepless nights of concern for his flock, the people who trusted him and looked to him for guidance and protection, had robbed him of his usual mental vigour and focus.

    Lately he had also noticed that his hair, like the rest of his jaded body, had grown thin and acted in sympathy with the plight of themon folk and the attacks that they faced, as it greyed prematurely around his temples.

    Why had the witches attacked now?

    After all these centuries of seeming peace?

    Could Brother Lanqvist¡¯s discovery really be true?

    Was he the right man for theing task?

    Was he capable and devout enough to oversee it?

    Was it truly the will of the Great Surrounder that he should be given so heavy and burdensome a responsibility?

    Further anguished shouts rang out as the crowd became more fervent and impassioned; the jostling turned to pushing; their anger threatened to spill out into violence even within the hallowed walls of such a sacred space.

    The years had passed, but the adrenaline still surged through his beating blood. No matter how pious his new station in life, he could not prevent his old feelings - the need for urgent action - from rising up within him.

    His limbs itched to be able to take part in the debate himself, but his role as Patrex forbade it - he should not address the audience directly - it was not seemly, it was not tradition.

    But these were not normal times and a good general should always know when to bend the rules of engagement.

    Perhaps he should stand and try to calm them?

    But then, how much could he really tell them?

    He was no magikant.

    Did the Grand Harmonist really know what he was doing?

    Would this so called ¡°Cleansing Spell¡± even work?

    And they couldn¡¯t risk treachery - what if the witches discovered their ns?

    Near the front of the dais, the little round, ruddy-faced provost from Witton Hedley stood up on one of the pews and bellowed out above the general din:

    ¡°Even the Grand Harmonist has deserted us! We sent to Puristad for his help - but he had already fled!¡±This belongs to N?velDrama.Org: ?.

    A furious uproar surged through the crowd. A sharp splintering crash punctuated the tumult as an urn and its pedestal were knocked over and destroyed.

    He could no longer sit idly by and let his congregation suffer like this; he must act; he must calm andfort his flock and quell this hostility; they were his responsibility and he must fulfil his devout duty.

    The secret was already seeping out. Any attempt to deny it now would only cause more suspicion and provoke the aggressive crowd further. He must risk telling the congregation their ns in order to calm these frightened and desperate souls. Besides, the ceremony would take ce tomorrow evening - there was hardly enough time left for betrayal now.

    He stood and moved in an open gesture toward the edge of the rostrum, forgoing the distant safety of the lectern, out towards the people themselves, and sensed the very warmth rising up from their huddled bodies.

    ¡°Brothers! Sisters!¡± he began, motioning with his hands for the rowdy mob to give him the opportunity to be heard. ¡°Please do not lose heart!¡±

    His voice, so used to giving orders on a battlefield, still retained the vigour of his youth;manding enough to be heard, but offering a warmth of reassurance to those who heeded its calming sound.

    Surprised by his direct approach, and soothed by his fatherly tone, the vast room quickly fell into a respectful silence.

    ¡°We have called a meeting this day, not just for you to air your grievances, but to inform you of the steps we have already taken to ensure your safety: for, you must know that your safety, both spiritual and physical, is always at the forefront of our minds.¡±

    A sea of expectant eyes gazed up at him; he felt the anxious weight of their hopes hanging in the echoes which bounced beneath the stone ceilings.

    ¡°The Grand Harmonist has not fled - we have summoned him to aid us all in these most disturbing times, to bring an end to these dreadful and appalling attacks. He has been instructed to carry out the Great Cleansing Ritual - and has assured us that this spell, performed under favourable conditions, will be enough to rid us of this atrocious pestilence of witches; and, if fully sessful, should put a stop to these attacks forever.¡±

    A hushed murmur rippled through the anxious crowd.

    ¡°My beloved flock, I urge you not to speak openly of this news, but to takefort from it and understand our need for secrecy. We must remain vignt and ce our trust in each other and the will of the Great Surrounder, and then soon our distressing troubles shall be brought to an end once and for all. Please be assured that your beloved Church will never desert you. You can rely on our eternal support and protection in this and all matters, as ever.¡±

    A stifled silence hung across the rarefied air of the nave as the congregation paused for a moment to absorb his reassuring message. The echoes of his words still sang undisturbed in the far corners of the arched vaults. Neighbour turned to neighbour to discuss his speech and a low buzz of conversation grew and filled the sacred edifice once more.

    A few of the more desperate or pessimistic tried to make their views heard again.

    ¡°But what about my cattle?¡± shouted one.

    For a moment, Steadman was concerned that the room may erupt once more into a frenzy of raised voices, but the cid tone of his soothingmunication held firm and steadied the swelling tide.

    ¡°Please be assured we are doing all we can. Soldiers have been disbursed across the region for your protection; return to your viges and farms and continue in safety: our troubles will soon be brought to an end.¡±

    These final pacifying words from their spiritual leader seemed to have the desired effect. The congregation murmured but appeared content and several turned to slowly begin dispersing through the great Eastern Doors, with low mutterings amongst themselves.

    After these first few, the rest followed, and the Great Cathedral began to empty. Most simply turned and filed out through the bulky ornate doors, anxious to get back to their fields or livestock; others hurried to make what preparations they could with makeshift weapons or a cluster of superstitions remedies.

    Several of the women, who still retained memories of the old ways, bowed their greying heads towards him in tacit obedience as they departed.

    Steadman offered a silent blessing on them all, and, as thest few members of the humble congregation withdrew and the minor clerics also took their leave, he turned around to face his fellow members of the Pleiad who remained seated on the dais near to him.

    His mind turned uneasily once more to Brother Lanqvist¡¯s discovery.

    For all the difficulties of assuaging the public, this was the meeting he was least looking forward to: for his years as Patrex had taught him that smoothing over concerns of themon folk was one thing, but controlling the emotions of his own fellow priests, and especially those of the Church¡¯s highest office and rank, was quite another.

    ¡°Gentleman,¡± he said, indicating a door to the side of the aisles: ¡°shall we adjourn to my Chambers? I have some disturbing news which I need to discuss with you all, and it would best be done in private.¡±

 7. Behind Closed Doors

    A hopeful fire zed in the hearth of Father Steadman¡¯s apartments; its dull crackle broke the stunned roomful of silence which greeted his disclosure.

    He stood and warmed his back against the gathering chill, as he nced around the wood-panelled chamber at his fellow members of the High Pleiad. They shifted uneasily against theforts of his fine chairs, obviously uncertain of how to react to his disturbing news.

    He felt himself young in their presence - in both age and knowledge - but the in purity of his unadorned robes indicated that, despite his unusual past, he had indeed been duly elected as the Supreme Father of the Church - more than a decade ago now - but, he reflected, never in that time had he been forced to confront a problem of this magnitude.

    Several of his guests helped themselves to the fine dark wine, which as Patrex, he was always obliged to keep de-cantered ready for any such asion; but although the fire and the smoothness of the vintage had un-thawed their ageing bodies from the autumn temperatures of the unheated Great Cathedral, their thoughts and voices had be frozen once more following his announcement.

    His eyes were drawn towards Brother Caldor, the second most senior member of the Pleiad, who had always resisted his leadership; but the revtion seemed to have dulled even his barbed tongue.

    Clearly, it would be up to him to continue the conversation. He was the leader, and these were his apartments.

    ¡°So you can all see how grave the situation is, gentlemen,¡± he said, breaking through the tense atmosphere. ¡°We must handle things very carefully, for we cannot allow our faithful to be unduly rmed.¡±

    ¡°Unduly rmed?¡± said Brother Fencliffe. ¡°You can speak of such things at a time like this? Why, if even half of what you¡¯ve just said is true¡­¡±

    The room shuddered into an uneasy silence once more. Brother Rowe¡¯s chair scraped on the floor as he coughed nervously and reached for his ss. But Steadman knew he must maintain a calm exterior, no matter how he felt inside, no matter how unsettling their situation.

    ¡°But I¡¯m afraid it would seem to be so,¡± he continued. ¡°Brother Lanqvist, the greatest of our schrs, was researching ways of dealing with the witch attacks.¡±

    He indicated the white-haired man sitting in the corner, stooped against the cane which rested between his knees.

    ¡°It was our ever-diligent Librarian who first informed me of it,¡± said Lanqvist in his rolling lond tones: ¡°but her findings were true enough. I have spent thesest weeks reading and cross-checking - but all the scrolls point to the same conclusion.¡±

    The tense, sombre ambience engulfed the chambers again.

    He must act; he must make them see the danger, while being careful not to provoke their dignity. They were his elders, even if below him in rank, and they still held a great deal of authority within their ownmunities. Their help would be critical if they were to avoid disaster.

    ¡°Yes gentlemen, I¡¯m afraid it seems to be so - these witch attacks are no small matter, and no doubt troublesome and dangerous in themselves - but we must also ept the fact that their recent boldness might not just be a coincidence - it may be that they are testing our defences and readying themselves¡­¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯re serious in saying these attacks aren¡¯t just unfortunate and random? That they are somehow all connected to¡­ the old stories?¡± said Fencliffe.

    ¡°Yes, I am.¡± Steadman replied.

    ¡°Stuff and nonsense!¡± Caldor erupted from the far side of the chamber. ¡°You dare to speak of such unfounded sacrilege? And here, of all ces? Inside the very heart of our beloved Church?¡±

    Here it was atst; he knew Caldor would not disappoint.

    ¡°I cannot simply sit here and allow such sphemies! Themon folk are bad enough - they are like simple sheep, whose primitive minds are burdened with an over-active imagination, and when they cannot understand something, they simply invent and grasp at half remembered folk-tales and superstitions - but to hear such talk from educated men of faith like ourselves is entirely inexcusable.¡±

    Caldor¡¯s face reddened with the conviction of his passion, crimson against the dark of his hair, until it almost matched the scarlet trimmings of his ck vestments. It had always seemed peculiar to Steadman that someone who professed such a spirituality and zeal for religion would choose to be so fastidious in his borate, worldly dressings. But it was an old argument, and one that hardly mattered now.

    ¡°But, my Lord, if it were true¡­¡± suggested Brother Odal.

    ¡°You¡¯re referring to the Auguries?¡± said Brother Byram.Content provided by N?velDrama.Org.

    ¡°The false and garbled ravings of a long-dead lunatic!¡± Caldor scoffed. ¡°Such ridiculous ideas will cause mass hysteria amongst themon folk. They are already dry kindling, and this spark could ignite them into an unstoppable panic. If they begin believing this nonsense, then what of the Church itself? How are we to make them feel the majesty of the Great Surrounder amidst the depths of such ancient and febrile paganism?¡±

    ¡°Indeed!¡± echoed Brother Odal. ¡°What would be of the Church - and what of us, too?¡±

    ¡°But we know it is true - Lanqvist has researched it!¡± said Rowe.

    Steadman sensed the room igniting into an edgy bickering. The shocked silence had been bad enough, but he could not allow things to descend into an open argumentative split. It was his job now to hold the factions together - to unify the Church and its response.

    ¡°Brothers!¡± he said, cutting through general rm and concern, ¡°Must I remind you that we have already summoned the Harmonist?¡±

    He stepped into the centre of the room, putting himself physically between the squabbling priests, drawing all eyes towards him.

    ¡°He has already sent word that what he called the ¡®Cleansing Spell¡¯ will protect us from this dreadful cmity. Whether the old stories are true or not, we still need to take action now and defend our people from these confounded attacks. We must hold firm and show a brave and united face to our congregations. Once the Spell has been fulfilled, tomorrow night, then we will be able to see our way forward more clearly.¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± said Odal: ¡°what was the idea of speaking directly to the public like that? I thought we agreed on the need for secrecy?¡±

    ¡°It was a necessary step under the circumstances. And I took care not to reveal the time or location.¡± Steadman responded.

    ¡°And now we have no choice,¡± Caldorined. ¡°We must do as we all originally nned and entrust our lives to this magikant.¡±

    ¡°So they will convene at the Sacred Grove?¡± asked Rowe.

    ¡°Yes, the Grove, and the power of the full Harvest Moon, will increase the potency of the spell,¡± Steadman replied.

    ¡°And is this certain to seed? What if he fails?¡± said Odal.

    ¡°We are men of faith and not magik - we must trust that the Harmonist knows his business,¡± said Steadman.

    ¡°Who knows what those who wield the magik are truly capable of,¡± said Caldor.

    ¡°Yes, precisely; that¡¯s my worry,¡± Fencliffe added.

    Rowe took another sip of wine. ¡°And it¡¯s a bad time to be travelling, what with all these attacks recently.¡±

    ¡°Yes: and speaking of travelling,¡± Brother Byram chimed in: ¡°it has been noted that Brother Thaddeus and hispanions have not yet arrived from their cloisters at Ardale. They were due to arrive two days ago to discuss the Cleansing Spell, but there has been no sign of them on any road, and we cannot ount for their absence.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps they simply got lost while taking the short-cut through Sidemoore Forest?¡± Rowe suggested.

    ¡°Or perhaps they are lying drunk in a tavern somewhere,¡± Caldor interjected scornfully.

    ¡°This morning I even heard a rumour that they had been captured by some of those foul, iniquitous creatures,¡±said Byram. ¡°This is how bold the witches have already grown¡­¡±

    ¡°Or perhaps how fanciful the fertile minds of these frightened sheep have be to even invent such nonsense,¡± said Caldor. ¡°We must do everything we can to suppress and stifle such sphemy. We cannot allow such nonsense to escape from this room into the minds of themon peasants.¡±

    ¡°For if we cannot control the people, we cannot properly control the Church, and what then shall be of us all?¡± said Odal.

    The others nodded in worried agreement.

    Steadman was disappointed by their reaction - it had always seemed to him that the purpose of the Church was for thefort of the people, not the aggrandisement of its leaders - although the passing years had slowly stripped him of such outright idealism - but at least it brought a nervous truce and some sort of unity to the room - and he could work with that.

    ¡°Well then, we must wait for the Cleansing Ritual tomorrow night,¡± announced Caldor, ¡°and trust that these doomden auguries are nothing but deluded nonsense.¡±

    ¡°And then this scourge of witches will atrophy and die,¡± added Odal.

    ¡°I¡¯ll drink to that!¡± said Rowe.

    ¡°Well,¡± said Caldor as he stood up, ¡°Brothers Fencliffe, Odal and I must make our own preparations. I¡¯m sure you will excuse us most Reverend Father.¡±

    Steadman kept an unwavering eye on each of the three as they approached and stooped low to indicate their eternal obedience to the head of their Church as they kissed the ring on his right hand.

    The first two attempted to return his gaze, but their eyes nced off nervously toward the floor.

    But as Brother Caldor bent and grasped his ring-hand, his brooding, hooded eyes stared straight back, unflinching.

    All three then bowed to him again as they left the room, and although they had all given him this public sign of fealty, Steadman could not help the doubt from gnawing within him that a sterner test was yet toe.

 8. A Short Walk

    Caldor gripped the handle of the study door and closed it firmly. Dismay and anger bubbled up within him, but knew that this was neither the time nor the ce; he fought to maintain a dignified silence and proceeded with his Brother clerics along the echoing stone corridors of Burisdon.Content provided by N?velDrama.Org.

    The meeting had not been an easy listen.

    Who did this upstart Steadman think he was?

    Calling for the Harmonist and pushing the majesty of the Church - <i>his </i>Church - toward such heathen nonsense?

    The Auguries indeed! The very idea!

    And how could he possibly expect themon peasants to respect him, and to make asting impression on their dull, illiterate minds, when he refused to dress in a manner befitting the dignity and authority of the Patrex and the Church?

    And to address them in person! After all these centuries of ritual and tradition!

    And yet, no doubt the witches were bing a nuisance, and something must be done. It was difficult to understand why the Surrounder had allowed such attacks to ur; but then he, Caldor, was merely a man, and it was not for him to fathom the immutable ways of the Surrounder.

    As they walked, the nervous ticks and twitches of the other two betrayed their keenness to unburden their troubled minds.

    A warming satisfaction eased through his body - others too were still loyal to the old ways and to the glories of their great Mother Church.

    ¡°His leadership is weak,¡± Fencliffe blurted out.

    ¡°Yes, we all see it,¡± Odal agreed in low tones. ¡°Our beloved Church has struggled these past years. Those in the ranks have felt themselves rudderless. Steadman has tried his best - but this recent scourge of witches proves that they too know of, and have felt, our failing strength.¡±

    ¡°For the sake of our Church, we must act now!¡± Fencliffe hissed. ¡°While we are still able to act; while we still have it in our power!¡±

    He stopped and looked Caldor full in the face. ¡°Would it not be better if <i>you</i> were to be Patrex?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Hush! Do not talk of such things out loud!¡± Caldor replied. His eyes darted along the corridor and he continued his hurried steps. He reduced his voice to an angry whisper: ¡°Look at where we are! These walls are no doubt crawling with his spies!¡±

    His two fellow Brothers looked anxiously about them and quickened their pace a little, pulling their heavy cloaks about their shoulders against the cold, and any potential listeners, as they drew closer together and hunched their heads near.

    ¡°He trusts all our lives, and the fate of our very Church, to this¡­ <i>magikant</i>!¡± said Fencliffe. ¡°A preening upstart from Puristad, whose unnatural abilities and power are little better than those wielded by the witches themselves!¡±

    ¡°We must bide our time and act cautiously,¡± said Caldor; he was careful not to allow his voice to betray any of the pride he felt in this acknowledgement from his closest peers.

    ¡°Soon the others will also see how weak his leadership is,¡± he continued, ¡°but during a crisis such as this, we must put any personal feelings aside for the sake of the Church - because if this ritual fails it could be the end of all of us - even the holy Church herself!¡±

    He walked on, the other two close behind, with just the empty echo of their footsteps following them along the corridor to where their coaches were waiting in the damp courtyard beyond.

 9. The Five-Cornered Cicle

    A light evening breeze drifted through the dense woond as the carriage wheels crunched across the fallen leaves which littered the forest track.This belongs to N?velDrama.Org: ?.

    The carriage slowed and rumbled to a halt.

    Kira¡¯s stomach nervously somersaulted in anticipation as Sister Maud unlocked the door and opened it into the hushed twilight.

    A violence of goosebumps thrilled through Kira¡¯s body as she stepped down onto the springy turf.

    They were here! She had finally arrived!

    Her weary legs were grateful to escape the cramped limitations of the carriage and feel the gravity of her blood pulse through them as she stood on solid ground once more.

    The three days of relentless travel had quickly lost its mour and she was relieved to finally get out of the rattling vehicle; her heightened senses bubbled and spilled, intoxicated by her new surroundings and the dizzying knowledge of the role she must fulfil there.

    Even through the soles of her boots, the soft, yielding surface of the grass was a strange and unfamiliar sensation, unlike anything inside the stone architecture of the convent. She tapped her foot lightly on the cushioned ground while she waited for her fellow novicee to join her, but the turf refused to leave an echo.

    And to be here at the Sacred Grove!

    A ce she had heard so many stories and strange tales about; a ce of special focus for those who could wield the magik; the revered heart of their powers.

    She shivered in excitement at the thought that she, Kira, who had never even experienced life outside the barren convent walls before, was now breathing in its rarefied air and standing on its hallowed ground; the exalted location, where the legends of history and religion had collided across the centuries.

    Her stomach churned itself giddy with exhration.

    And she was not just there to sightsee; she was there to take part in an actual, real ceremony - something about witches, she had gathered from Sister Maud during the journey, and the evil menace they posed to the outlying towns and viges - although Kira could not help feeling that the witches could hardly be any more threatening or sinister than Sister Amelia Constance, be they never so wicked.

    How jealous Amber would be when she told her all about it on her return.

    ¡°And remember girls - be on your best behaviour!¡±. The stern tones of Sister Maud jolted Kira back into the fresh forest evening, canopied beneath the densely thatched branches.

    ¡°You are all ambassadors for the convent and its school: do not show us up or stand gawping at boys - it is not seemly for youngdies to look directly at boys or men, and I do not expect to encounter any such behaviour - or the Surrounder have mercy on you when we return home. Keep your gaze down and your thoughts on the purity of the moonlight.¡±

    As she uttered this dire warning, sister Maud issued a particrly hard stare in Kira¡¯s direction - although the sting of her words was defused by the great sense of asion and the thrilling joy of their arrival.

    The low autumn twilight had gathered in around them, and the violence of the woond colours had faded into dim shades of grey, so the girls were permitted to leave the safety of the carriages without the shielding protection of their hoods.

    Kira was d not to feel the restrictive ties and fastenings pressing in around her head, and it also gave her wandering vision more scope to look around and observe some of the wondrous sights of this most significant and celebrated ce.

    Their carriages had stopped in a small clearing at one end of a long forest track, hemmed in by a thick curtain of trees and dense undergrowth.

    A number of other vehicles and groups of people had already assembled; several fires burned brightly against the chill of the oing night; the smell of wood-smoke and roasting pork with apples mingled through the rich sweet scent of the forest earth and the damp leaf-litter.

    Kira¡¯s nose twitched, provoked by the tempting smells - but the close presence of sister Maud denied her any opportunity to go over and investigate, despite the urgings of her stomach.

    Amongst the muted colours of evening, many of the people gathered there were dressed in a variety of robes and uniforms, each denoting their sect and rank - although Kira was not certain exactly what they all signified or who they all were, for she had never encountered such a glorious assortment in the istion of the convent - or in any of the lessons she had managed to pay attention to.

    As far as she could make out however, many more of those who were milling about, simply appeared to be townsfolk who hade to witness the wonders of the Great Ritual for themselves, or perhaps they were visiting on pilgrimage, so that the forest clearing had taken on the busy atmosphere of a yeartide celebration.

    A narrow woond path lead off from the far end of the clearing into the dense ckness of the trees. Several men took up positions along its winding length and held aloft ming torches as they guided groups of priests and townsfolk through the forest.

    But Kira¡¯s eyes had already spent a lifetime wandering the dim corridors of the convent and were keen enough to pick out the way unassisted.

    The two nuns counted heads and satisfied themselves that the girls presented a respectable enough appearance, and they all set off, following the rest of the crowds along the scrubby pathway as it twisted through the bracken and trees.

    The girls chattered amongst themselves in hushed, excited voices, but Kira could still pick out the rustle of the evening leaves and snapping twigs on the path over the subdued hum of their conversations. She kept her eyes down to be sure of her footing in such an unfamiliar and undting ce.

    Around a sharp corner, they all climbed up a short, steep incline. The thick palisade of trees suddenly halted to reveal a huge open t teau which stretched out before her in a perfect circle, surrounded by the dense forest, carpeted entirely with a deep luxuriant growth of curiously sparkling moss, which twinkled in the evening darkness.

    The other girls stopped in front of her to gaze at the sight.

    Kira¡¯s greedy eyes forced her to pause too while she breathed it all in.

    How beautiful it seemed; how magikal; just as she had imagined it might be in the depths of her ssroom daydreams.

    ¡°There are the Five Beacons,¡± said Sara as she sped her arms in excitement.

    Kira¡¯s eyes strayed to the outer perimeter of the circle, where five huge stone monoliths stood up boldly against the night.

    ¡°Yes, they say that each one represents one of the central cadences of magik - but no-one really knows for sure,¡± said Hettie.

    ¡°Or how long they¡¯ve been there,¡± added Meg.

    ¡°Perhaps from the time when the crows were still white and the Wandering Mountains were still searching for a permanent home; or some think they could even have been ced there by the very hand of the Great Surrounder Himself, in order to help focus the power of His Believers,¡± said Hettie.

    ¡°Trust you to know all about it!¡± Meg giggled.

    But Kira could see for herself that all the rumours about the magik of the Grove¡¯s Heart were true - that despite its fertile position in the middle of an ancient forest, nothing but the thick carpet of dewy moss grew within therge raised tform of its circle; none of the surrounding trees had dared to grow across its boundary; none of their saplings or seeds had ever taken root or germinated there, if they had even been bold enough to fall there in the first ce.

    And without the covering canopy of the forest branches, or a curtain of epassing trees, the vast dark sky suddenly opened out above them all.

    The central intense moon stared down at them from near Her zenith, rich in tones of silver and blue; sweeping the teau with the glory and purity of Her light.

    Kira was forced to gasp at the shocking, breath-stealing sight; the immense weightless sky which towered above her; enfolding them all; majestic in its velvet darkness; higher than the tallest trees; more ancient than the forest itself; and sshed across it, the gleaming shes of the inquisitive stars, who peered back down towards her, curious to witness the events as they unfolded on the tiny insignificant world far beneath them.

    And yet, despite this vast open aspect and the slow evening clouds meandering by overhead, an eerily quiet atmosphere haunted the inner circle itself, becalmed of all winds or weather, so that even the slightest of sounds appeared to reverberate and ripple across it, intensified and fragmented by its rarefied sanctuary.

    The sharp nudge of bodies from behind jarred Kira back to the dark night-time perimeter, as other groups of the Faithful, still walking along the path and anxious to reach the Heart of the Grove for themselves, pushed past her, determined to arrive at their destination before the ceremony started.

    Kira shivered uneasily, but was not certain why, and pulled her cloak tighter across her shoulders, as she hurried on to catch up with the rest of her ssmates before their two chaperones had time to notice she had not kept up with the group and seized yet another opportunity to scold her.

 10. Arrival of the Harmonist

    As Kira caught up with the others, the ground beneath her began to vibrate to the low distant rumble of an approaching carriage.

    She turned, surprised that it had not stopped back along the pathway in the clearing with all the others, but instead continued on until it reached the very edge of the sparkling mossy shelf.

    This grand, direct approach; the sheer size and magnificence of the huge carriage; the haughty pride of the fourrge, white horses which drew it; all clearly denoted someone of a very high rank; and as the coach stopped, a hushed whisper began to circte amongst the crowds that this was the vehicle of the Grand Harmonist himself.

    Kira knew she should keep going and get into position with the others.

    But how could she be expected to resist such a sight?

    A true, once-in-a-lifetime-opportunity?

    Surely her chaperones wouldn¡¯t mind?

    Just this one time?

    She stopped and gave herself permission to observe the august spectacle, unlike anything she had ever witnessed before, or was ever likely to witness again, curious to take in the details of its opulent splendour.

    The carriage was richly adorned; its intricate panels iid with brightly coloured carvings and statues which glinted and sparkled, picked out by the purity of the rising moon. But they also glowed from within - the flickering symbols of gold and ruby shimmered with a spectral, internal light, as they twisted and writhed across the body of the coach.

    Five torches zed brightly on the roof, each with a deep mysterious intensity - four in shimmering shades of orange and blue, while the fifth, central me, burned in a pure and sincere yellow.

    A finely dressed coachman got down from his position at the front of the carriage and ced a set of dainty golden steps on the ground. He held the door open wide for its upants, and Kira couldn¡¯t help but feel that such a luxury would have saved her and the other girls an unseemly amount of ungainly mbering in and out of their own high wagon - but she refused to allow this petty jealousy to spoil her enjoyment of the pageantry.

    Around her, the entire crowd had fallen silent and gazed on in wonderment as they jostled forward to get a better view.

    Kira found herself standing near to Sisters Maud and Enid.

    A loud gasp of delight rippled through the congregation as five tall young men descended from the carriage.

    Kira strained her eyes into the dim night; she had never seen a boy before, and was a little too far away to get a really good look, but it seemed to her that they had much broader shoulders and a fuller outline than girls.This belongs to N?velDrama.Org - ?.

    Each was dressed in a fine silk robe of a different hue and shade of blue. They stood straight and motionless, forming a line leading away from the carriage steps.

    ¡°Those are the Apprentices,¡± Sister Maud announced in a hoarse whisper. ¡°One for each of the five magikal disciplines.¡±

    ¡°How handsome they look,¡± Enid replied, without tearing her eyes away.

    A wave of expectant anticipation surged through the assembled crowd of Believers and clerics. They held their collective breath for what seemed to Kira to be almost an impatient lifetime, until finally a slender man, with a fine dark moustache, curling above a serene smile, emerged from the depths of the carriage, and graced them all with his presence.

    His robe of flowing gold was iid with intricate swirling patterns of deep blue gems; his head supported arge, soft, delicately woven turban of turquoise, fastened in ce with a golden pin and arge wless ruby. Even from her distance, and across the darkness of the evening, the dazzling colours were richer and more exquisite than any manuscript illumination Kira had ever seen.

    His cloak made it appear as if the Harmonist floated down the steps to the ground in an effortless, ethereal manner. He did not bother to concern himself with the crowd or any of the others gathered there, but focused only on his contented smile and the glory of his own authority, as he preceded to the centre of the Grove¡¯s Heart, in a series of exacting and fastidious steps, causing the twinkling moss of the teau to glow brighter beneath the weight of his aura.

    As he strode past the crowd, the two good Sisters stood open-mouthed and gazed intently on the imperial magnificence of the Harmonist.

    The five Apprentices followed on behind.

    ¡°Look at the workmanship on their robes! What wonderful material! Far better than the coarse cloth of even our very best vestments!¡± whispered Maud.

    ¡°How handsome they all look,¡± said Enid.

    ¡°How much would such material cost? I wonder how it would feel to be clothed head to toe in such a fine, glossy luxury?¡± said Maud.

    ¡°How handsome they all look,¡± said Enid.

    Kira had also noticed the fine silk robes, but was more distracted by the sight of Sister Maud¡¯s bulging, covetous eyes.

    Surely this was exactly the type of worldly vanity that years of devout prayer should have extinguished long ago?

    And hadn¡¯t they told her and the other girls, just a short while ago, not to gawp, or even look at the men?

    How could it be fair for the nuns to stare when the novicee weren¡¯t allowed such a privilege?

    And after all, this was her very first time out of the convent - surely she should be allowed to notice something of the outer-world?

    The older nuns had probably already been out of the convent on any number of previous asions.

    And by now, the sacrosanct purity of the moonlight should have taught them the empty sinfulness of this world; just as the Venerated Opus had taught¡­

    ¡°Kira! What do you think you¡¯re doing! Didn¡¯t I just tell you not to gawp? Don¡¯t you know it¡¯s improper for a girl to stare?¡±

    The sharp tones of her guardian jolted Kira back to the dark of the evening Grove. She looked up and caught the sh of Sister Maud¡¯s gimlet eyes.

    The Grand Harmonist had already passed by, and the rest of the crowd had followed him towards the very centre of the circle, ready to take up their assigned ces and prepare for the ritual to begin.

    ¡°Well? Don¡¯t just stand there idly girl!¡± Maud barked: ¡°We should all be in our positions by now! Or do you think you are so important that the whole ceremony should wait for you?¡±

    Sister Enid frowned at Kira and shook her head.

    ¡°Honestly! I knew we should never have brought that girl!¡±

    Kira¡¯s cheeks burned as she hurried across the springy moss toward the centre of the Grove to ready herself for the mysteries of the Great Ceremony.

 11. A Momentary Lapse

    Kira promised herself that she would concentrate fully as she hurried across the springy moss teau and took up her ce amongst the other girls.

    She congratted herself for not even stopping to look down at the wonderful sparkling carpet as it glittered beneath her boots.

    From her position, about half-way between the centre and the outside of the circle, she could see that the devotional musicians had already taken up their ces inside the edge of the Grove, their drums and horns poised to y.

    Beyond them, stretched along the outer perimeter, behind the sacred boundary of the corner stones, the rest of the assembled Believers, sightseers and stragglers had gathered by the warmth of several glowing braziers, dotted around the edge of the raised forest de.

    Large clusters of priests and nuns, each in their different coloured robes and vestments, had grouped themselves between the stones and the centre of the great circle; while the five young Apprentices stood facing their master, in a direct line between him and the five stone monoliths, in order to focus their own powers, and help to amplify the potency of his great artful mind.

    And at the very centre of it all, resplendent in his fine ceremonial regalia, and clearly relishing his primacy in the spot-light, stood the Grand Harmonist himself.

    Kira breathed in the sweet rich smoke of the heavy censer which Hettie swung as she moved between the girls, purifying the air with its pungent scented fumes.

    The two Sisters moved briskly around their wards, diligently handing out and lighting long tallow candles to each of the novicee to symbolise the innocent virtues of their great Mother Moon.

    As they approached, Kira held out her hand in anticipation.

    Sister Enid reached for thest candle, but hesitated as Maud grasped her arm.

    ¡°Perhaps it would be better if Kira was left to concentrate more fully on the purity of the chant, rather than having the responsibility of holding a sacred me, Sister Enid?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I agree Sister Maud. It will be a long and difficult recitation, and a very tiring ceremony - we certainly don¡¯t want her showing the rest of us up by dropping her candle and starting a fire.¡±

    They both moved past her and took up their own positions near by.

    A slight disappointment prickled across Kira¡¯s thoughts, but she told herself that she didn¡¯t mind too much - at least it left her free to nce around at the rest of the ceremony for a few moments, without the burden of looking after one of the blessed lights.

    She hid her hands deep in the pockets of her cloak so that their emptiness was less conspicuous, and reasoned that this also stopped her from fidgeting - and besides, it was warmer.

    She inhaled the tense, expectant air, thick with perfumed smoke, thrilled to be finally taking part in a real, genuine ritual after all the dull hours of monotonous practice in the convent.

    And not just any ritual - a chance for humans to save themselves from the terrible scourge of the witches; not only now, but if they were sessful, once and for all - an event which would truly mark a momentous asion in the great and dusty annals of history.

    The nuns had taken pains to studiously impress on her that never in the memories of those still living had such arge gathering of priests and magikants been assembled; and even the most experienced practitioners were unsure if the spell would actually work, lending an uneasy trepidation to the stilled evening air; but, as the nuns had insisted, so desperate was the situation for those afflicted by the blight of the witches, so tenuous their grasp on survival, that anything and everything had to be tried.

    Kira swallowed hard against the dryness of her mouth and tried to push her anxious shoulders back into their ce.

    She had been taught about the world of magik in dull, draining lessons, but had failed to take much of it in.

    But this -<i> this!</i>was so much more exciting and immediate; even under the shadows of night, the colours and sounds were so much more vibrant and alive than anything she had ever encountered at the dreary nunnery. Her eager senses drank it all in thirstily - the hopeful scent of the incense; the faint whispering agitation of magik in the atmosphere; the soft yielding of the pliant moss beneath her feet.

    Her tense fingers yed apprehensively with the insides of her pockets, counting down the moments until the ceremony began and she would have to y her part.

    Finally the preparations wereplete, and a solid, tangible hush descended across thendscape. Each cleric stood positioned at their allocated ce ready to aid the chant; each magikant steadied their breath and gathered their energy for the tiring ordeal that was about to begin.

    It seemed to Kira as if even the surrounding trees held their leaves still, as the heavy air crackled with potent anticipation.

    She gathered her breath and steadied herself. Her ears ached in the deep silence; her skin rippled with expectant goosebumps; the solemnity of the profound asion pressed in all around her; she scrunched her stubborn toes down into the soles of her boots, determined not to fidget; determined to y her part; determined to prove her worth to her ssmates and everyone else.

    The first moon reached Her towering zenith and the ceremonial horns blew out a great bass note, steady and reverberating, across the stillness of the Grove, shaking at its very foundations.

    A nervous acid excitement welled up from Kira¡¯s stomach; but she refused to acknowledge it and focused intently on her first word.

    In a startling, thrilling unison, the disparate groups of voices sang out the powerful opening note, shocking the air around them into dense colours and vibrations; the primordial tones rising, ringing with a fervent purity, blending seamlessly into a vast fabric of sound.

    The chant swelled and continued in low rhythmical intonations, following the coercive resonance of the sacred drums, and grew in intensity to an all-engulfing reverberance of expressions and notes; the ancient words vibrating through the night air, the cadence of their rhythms and harmonics merging and reinforcing each other, across the tangled, deliberate acoustics of the Grove, and formed a charged and potent mystical enchantment, which seemed to raise the living soul of the ground itself, until it was lost, high up in the mysteries of the velvet firmament above.

    Delighted and disorientated, close to the centre of the swirling, resonant glory of the song, Kira fought back the swell of joy from behind her eyes, so overwhelmed and startled with the intense beauty and power of the ceremony that she struggled to chant at all. The memory of her lessons drifted and refused to settle in her head, forcing her to redouble her focus and concentrate fiercely on her words, intent on ying her part in the vibrating hypnosis of the chant.

    The candle-mes held by the other novicee swelled in sympathetic response to the incantation and danced to its sublime resonance. Kira now regretted not having one herself so that she could examine this effect close up.

    But she must focus and empty her mind of these distractions; she must fulfil her harmony and give her all to help the spell.

    The abrasive re of the horns and the passion of the voices enveloped her and rose as one glorious concordance of sound, echoing across the far distances of time; rising in pitch and timbre, increasing in rhythm and intensity; surging through the congregation and through every pulsing atom of Kira¡¯s being; calling out to her, vibrating her very soul; consuming her with the raw beauty of its elemental energy.

    What was this profound unnerving sensation of joy?

    Would she ever experience such allure and wonder again?

    But she must not think; she must focus.

    She tried to fight her inquisitive eyes as they were drawn towards the Grand Harmonist. She watched enraptured as he raised his arms towards the sky and the sleeves of his robe fell back to reveal a series of intricate symbols buried deep beneath the skin of his forearms, glowing in a blue iridescence against the darkness of the evening. All around the great circle of the Grove, his Apprentices, and the other men who could wield the magik, followed his lead.

    His eyes rolled back, white into his head, so that he was no longer distracted by the shallow truths of this world, but could focus instead on the certainties of the next. As the saturation of the chant and his thought deepened, his whole body began to radiate with an intensity of blueness, visible even through the luxurious cloth of his fine robes.

    The other magikants did likewise, their bodies shimmering with subtly different shades of blue, each colour demonstrating their knowledge in one of the five essential disciplines of magik.

    The glowing halo of energy from each magikant rose and wriggled and twisted as its subtle fingers sought out and joined with its neighbour, until each of the colours had linked into an incandescent chain of scintiting brightness.

    The five pulsing, flickering threads were drawn inexorably towards the maic presence of the Harmonist, whomanded the centre of the Grove; the great conduit, the one great living poly-born; the one with the daunting ability to wield and manipte all of the differing forms of the restless, living magik.

    As he kept up his ardent, deep intonations, he reached out high above his head, and wove the individual strands together, creating a tapestry of thought and mind, which slowly projected up in a steady column of azure light; a beacon of dazzling blue, which pierced the darkness of the sky, threatening the moon with its bright intensity, stretching up toward the pale distant stars, before it mushroomed outward and spread to cover the Grove with a dome of its perfection.

    The deep rhythm of the chant continued unbroken; the heavy vibration of the drums; the ring insistence of the horns; the magikants and priests and novicee and nuns, all in a concentrated unison; higher and wider the blue light spread, each sound and syble of the ritual pushing and driving at its limitless boundaries.

    Kira¡¯s body tingled to her teeth; the thrilling sonorous fervour resonated through her; the sweetness of the incense intensified, shuddering under the gleaming radiance of the spell.

    She trembled, unsure if this was caused by her own excitement or the sharp chill which had descended across the Grove, as the mild evening air departed and left the night temperature to hover with uncertainty, not knowing which way to turn. She pulled her cloak tighter against the subtle disquiet.

    But she must focus! She must y her part properly and be a credit to her convent. She scrunched her toes down into the souls of her boots and closed her eyes to the fascinations and distractions of her surroundings, determined to concentrate.

    But the sparking dome of energy was now so bright and radiant that she could still sense it through the red and pinks and blues of her eyelids.

    She fought against its intrigue; breathed slowly and focused on the words she must say, the notes she must sing, and gradually began to sink into a calm immersion.

    The repetition of her lessons flowed back through her, soothing and sorting the jumble of her mind; she remembered her part in the great harmony and thrilled to the emotional impetus of the full, sumptuous ceremony.

    But there it was again - the nagging disappointment of thought; that somehow the majesty and importance and colour of the asion would all be wasted if she did not look at it, if she was not fully alert and alive to witness it.

    Her agitated mind refused to staypletely immersed in the meditation of the chant, and the distraction of her ideas bubbled to its surface.

    She could not refuse her eyes their urge to see, as they blinked themselves back open to feast on the glorious pageantry of the crowd and the wonders of the ceremony.

    How did the others do it? How could they maintain such discipline?

    She looked up for inspiration at the distant stars which poured themselves out across the opened sky and hoped that this might calm her and give her something more intense than her own curiosity to concentrate on.

    But the constant stars appeared to shift and swirl above her; and from the corner of her eyes, the flickering orange of the braziers and ceremonial candles began to doubt themselves, wavering uncertainly, and hesitating into shades of blue and yellow.

    She narrowed her puzzled eyes. She had been forbidden to move, but allowed her head to turn as she peered cautiously at the ckness of the tree-tops which surrounded the Grove.

    The shadowy branches of the trees quivered with movement; their slender fingers danced without a wind to conduct them; their yellowing leaves of Autumn¡¯s cloth rustled nervously without a guide.

    Perhaps the power of the Great Spell had awoken them from an ancient slumber and forced them into life? Perhaps they had been animated by the very urgency of the incantation itself?

    Across the clear stillness of the evening, fine suggestions of mist began to gather anxiously around the edges of the Grove, silhouetted by the brightness of the dome and the purity of the moon.

    Kira rubbed her troubled fingers together inside her cloak to ward off the night chill and pulled it tighter around her as an unexpected pocket of cold air brushed against her skin.

    Her questioning eyes continued to stare as, in a moment of confused wonder, one of the trembling branches darted out into the night sky, independent of its tree; then another, and still more - each seeming to have a life and a movement of its own - until a dark constetion had gathered high along the skyline of the Grove, above the encircling trees, and glided silently towards its centre.

    All around, the chant continued as before, gathering richly in intensity: the thick foundation of the drums; the ancient fervour of the words; the shimmering luminescence of the Great Spell; a light haze of vapour from the smoking pomander by Hettie¡¯s side.

    But the cold, damp scent of fog began to push its way forward, past the fragrant sweetness of the incense, and banished all thoughts of the sacred thirteenth harmony from Kira¡¯s head.

    Risking the fury of the nuns, she couldn¡¯t help but look around to see if anyone else had noticed this unusual sight - but in their devout obedience, all of the other novicee had their eyes resolutely closed, full in the sincerity of their concentration, absorbed only in the content and emotion of their chant, seeing nothing but the purity of their arcane words.

    Behind her, the Harmonist himself continued his powerful and relentless intonation, dominating the Heart of the Grove, weaving his great tapestry, oblivious to the strangeness of the trees, as the column of radiant energy beamed out from his pivotal focus, taller, stronger; its blue curve arcing out in purity across the trustingnd.

    Kira¡¯s attention was caught by a growing uneasy rumble which rippled out amongst the crowd along the far perimeter.

    Her keen eyes sensed its disturbance as several of the assembled Believers looked skyward and pointed; jerking their arms up at the dense collection of twigs and branches which floated high above them, and grew in shape and definition as they drifted ever closer.This belongs to N?velDrama.Org: ?.

    One of the crowd shouted out a shrill cry of rm which pierced through the reverence of the ceremony, but they were too far away and the chanting of those close to her made it impossible for Kira to catch what was said.

    Several other onlookers broke from their allotted positions along the outer edge of the Grove and ran towards the priests in the centre, waving their arms frantically and pointing up at the shadows in the darkening sky; their shrieking voices atst reached Kira¡¯s straining ears:

    ¡°Witches! It¡¯s the witches! The witches are upon us!¡±

 12. Witches Attack

    Kira peered up again at the shifting silhouettes in the sky. As they drew closer, her startled eyes saw the terrifying truth of the surging living contours of a group of female forms who drifted effortlessly across the night sky.

    Her heart raced with a cold panic. She nced around, but everyone near her was still deep in the hypnotic resonance of the chant, oblivious to the menacing danger overhead.

    The perimeter of they congregation crumbled and scattered from the warmth of the outlying braziers; the uproar of their shrieks pierced through the swell of the ceremonial harmonies; the screams of the women and bewildered sobs of the children, the shouting terror of the men, crashed against the rhythms of the spell as they dashed toward the Harmonist at the centre of the circle.

    The sacred drums nged and splintered horribly out of time and pattern, then floundered to a halt; a lingering discordant howl squealed out from the devotional horns, as the musicians were swept up and fled with the rest of the tumultuous crowd, sprinting for the hope of salvation beneath the glowing column of the Great Spell.

    ¡°They¡¯re here! Save us!¡±

    ¡°Run!¡±

    ¡°Surrounder protect us!¡±

    The shrill and desperate pleas for help tore into the troubled evening sky.

    Kira¡¯s mind flooded with an icy horror. She looked back at the Great Harmonist and the others around him, who all persisted with the Great Chant, oblivious to this disturbance, transfixed in another world, so deep was their focus, sopletely immersed in the rich cadences of their sacred ritual.

    Perhaps the Harmonist could still save them?

    If the priests could justplete the chant; if the magikants could continue to weave their threads of the spell; surely they could still defeat the witches and banish them forever?

    Her hair was suddenly ruffled by the tug of a chilling st of damp air, and several dark shadows swooped down rmingly low past her head.

    She ducked instinctively, her thoughts and hopes disrupted by this unwee disturbance.

    Close by, one of the magikants keeled over and dissolved to the ground, leaving only a horrified pile of smouldering ashes.

    Several others swiftly shared his terrible fate, each still so absorbed in the Great Chant that they were lost without even a cry of surprise or pain.

    But the Harmonist, at the very centre of the Grove, continued with the fervour of his chantings, his robes now incandescent with a glowing magikal pulse which illuminated the wide circle of the mossy teau and the dome of sky above it.

    The throbbing ribbons of radiant thought, which fed the fabric of his great tapestry, stuttered and dwindled and diminished. The great central column of blue energy began to narrow and falter; the Great Spell was failing and Kira could see that soon all would be lost.

    She barely remembered to breathe; her heart thumped deep within her distressed body; her spine twitched with anxiety.

    They were all in terrible danger. She must alert her ssmates and get them away from this nightmare scene before it was toote.

    Close by, Hettie sang out her harmony. She was the best student and the cleverest novicee - surely she would know what to do and how to save them?

    Kira grabbed at Hettie¡¯s sleeve and shook it frantically, shouting hard in her ear, desperate to rouse her from the depths of her concentration, no longer concerned about the wrath of the nuns, or the beauty of the chant, or the vital importance of the ceremony.

    Several more dark shadows swooped over her head and clustered above the Harmonist at the shimmering centre of the Grove. He began to falter and shake, straining to support the huge weight of his spell without the help and concentration of the others, as the numbers of magikants around him rapidly declined.

    Helpless, open-mouthed, Kira stared on - willing him to be strong, desperate for him to save them all.

    For a fleeting moment, he seemed to respond to her silent plea and struggled valiantly; his arms trembled with exertion as the sweat formed and glistened across his furrowed brow. He resisted the overwhelming gravity of the column of energy, but several more dark silhouettes gathered around him, and several more magikants fell, their blue luminescence extinguished forever.

    The iridescent ribbons of thought and power snapped and dissolved.

    The Harmonist¡¯s legs shuddered and buckled below him; he cried out in exasperated exhaustion, unable to bear the oppressive burden of the spell any longer. The radiant column shifted and flickered; the Harmonist staggered and stumbled and fell, crushed beneath the weight of his own shock; his eyes startled into bewilderment that such a tragedy could possibly befall him and the majesty of the Church, as he crumpled into the ground leaving nothing behind but the magnificent aura of his robes.

    The Grove immediately plunged into the shocking darkness of night; only the scattered embers of the braziers burned orange around the perimeter, while the sickening cinders of the priests and magikants still smoked in dotted piles across its mossy in.

    Even the glorious sweep of the moonlight and the faint mystery of the helpless stars could not prate the tragic inky gloom, or the anxious drifts of silent breathing fog which threatened to entomb the wide teau.

    A horrified despairing wail rang out from all directions as the shocking scale of the unfolding disaster gripped the terror-stricken congregation with the sudden extinction of this glowing symbol of hope and protection.

    Kira¡¯s knowing eyes revealed the depth of the hideous danger they now faced as the witches turned their remorseless attention to the crowds of ordinary Believers. Unable to summon the magik or defend themselves, they fell and withered;pletely and awfully, helpless victims.

    A frenzied hysteria swept through the mob; they stampeded and screamed in cmitous directions; priests and nuns and Believers, all scrambled in a jostling, crushing panic; a thronging herd of human terror, all desperate and frantic to save their own lives.

    The stunned rm of her frightened adrenaline forced Kira on. She shook Hettie hard by the shoulders with as much force as she could muster.

    Hettie¡¯s eyes fluttered open.

    ¡°Quick Hettie! The spell has failed! We¡¯re being attacked by witches! You¡¯ve got to help me! We¡¯ve got to save the others! Help quickly!¡±

    Hettie blinked back, roused from her distant meditation. She stared at Kira and then at the dire howling carnage that was unfolding all around them.

    Her features zed over in a cold horror and dissolved into an awed stupor.

    ¡°No!¡± she shouted: ¡°There¡¯s no time! Let me go! We¡¯ve got to run! It¡¯s toote for that! Save yourself! Run!¡±

    A nauseous dread gripped Kira¡¯s stomach as Hettie shook free of her rough grip and ran.

    ¡°No! We¡¯ve got to save the others! Help me! Please!¡± Kira screamed after her.

    But the reckless stampede of the panic-stricken crowd swallowed Hettie up, and she disappeared from view.

    Kira¡¯s best chance of help had deserted her. She knew she must fight through her gnawing swell of despair and self-doubt.Content provided by N?velDrama.Org.

    She dashed to her other ssmates, still lost in the glory of their deep chant. Out in the centre of the Grove, they were certain to be an easy target for the witches.

    She shouted at them to run, desperate to wake them from their absorbed concentration, but struggled to make her voice heard over the terrified din of the crowd.

    In the midnight dark, several panicking, screaming bodies collided and thudded into her. She reached to grab Meg by the shoulders, but an almighty thump from behind sent her sprawling to the mossy ground.

    Her winded ribs cried out in tender pain.

    She tried to get up but was knocked and trampled in the cmitous hysteria of the crowd.

    She fought her way to her feet, but the crushing swell of the distraught herd had barged her away from her fellow novicee.

    A dazzling swarm of screams and shouts engulfed her; a confused murmuration of bodies, dashing in a bewildering assortment of directions hemmed her in, buffeting and disorientating her, until she was hopelessly separated from her ssmates, trapped and lost in the frantic tangle of horrified strangers; the crushing jumble of priests and nuns and onlookers and Believers.

    For a second, her terrified mind froze in blind panic; all rational thoughts surrendered in the blizzard of human turmoil and despair which engulfed her, but her keen eyes scanned the dim midnight Grove, desperate for any possible means of escape.

    Caught out and exposed in the t open teau, she was without any hope of shelter or protection.

    The path back to the carriages was cut off by a crush of terrified people, and high across the skyline, the witches also seemed at their thickest in that direction.

    Her only chance was to reach the cover of the forest which surrounded the Grove - at least there the trees might offer her a canopy of protection and some meagre hope of safety.

    She dashed towards the nearest tree-line, crashing a pathway through the tumultuous chaos of the situation; through the raucous hysteria of the crowd; battered and jolted; knocked to the ground by several thudding impacts; but she did not - she dared not - lose sight of her goal; her one hope of sanctuary - the dark canopy of the forest.

    She ran, hard and as fast as she could; the pounding of her heart drowned out the despairing screams which ripped through the darkness all around her; hardly daring to look left or right at those unfortunates who perished across her pathway; the charged rancid air choked her nostrils with the smoking stench of their dying miasma.

    She battled against the soft boggy ground; the thick luxurious carpet of moss, which had seemed so dazzling and perfect, was now a spongy and cloying snare, clinging to her feet in a grasping web of velvet tendrils; denying her a passageway to safety; intent on preventing her escape.

    But her scrambled brain barely had time to register any sensation as she fled; swept along by the forceful tide of her urgent adrenaline; knowing only the all-consuming lonely terror of her own survival.

    Relentlessly, she fought on against the dizzying undercurrent of the crowd and the tiring ground, and wrestled against her own ungovernable panic.

    The sanctuary of the trees was close, their sombre structures brooded up darkly just a short way in front of her.

    Surely she would make it to the forest?

    Surely she would be safe there?

    Surely she would escape this terrible scene of carnage and live?

    She dug her feet down into the absorbent ground and sprinted for the hope of shelter and for her very life.

    A portly priest, his robes torn in a panic of disarray, loomed up before her, his eyes bulging with breathless disbelief as he careered across her pathway, her exit, her one hope of survival, and grabbed her roughly by the arm.

    ¡°This way!¡± he yelled, as he yanked her back in the direction she had just ran.

    Kira opened her mouth to shout back at him, desperate for him to let her go; she jerked and shrugged her arm in an attempt to free it from his frenzied grasp.

    But before she could speak, she was pummelled by a punishing violence of force, which crushed the breath out of her shocked lungs as it hurled her limp body into the air and flung her clear of the manic churchman.

    For a few blurred, scrambled moments, she was aware of a fierce high pitched ringing which gripped her tightly behind her eyes and threatened to drown out the painful echo of the screams and shouts which rang out all around her and through her agitated mind.

    The sour, metallic taste of her own conciousness darkened the back of her mouth; then all went ck, and she was aware of no more.

 13. A Usurpation

    Gimel¡¯s arms burned with pain as the two burly warriors pinioned them hard behind his back. Clearly, they held no respect for his royal lineage or theplex silken robes that showed his position of High Priest.

    But why would they?

    They were loyal to Ilgar.

    They squashed him down into a submissive kneeling position and forced his head low to the ground mats; he could almost taste the bitter fresh blood spilt across the floor of the tent; he was barely able to lift his head or nce around the canopied interior; instead his eyes werepelled to look straight ahead and rest on the one thing they did not wish to see - the grisly remains of his brother¡¯s severed head - its bloodless skin already pale; its lifeless eyes stared back nkly at him; its mouth still twisted open in a final cry of agony.

    Already the disrespectful sand-flies crawled and buzzed around it.

    Ilgar sat on his brother¡¯s throne, with the head positioned insultingly beneath his hefty left foot, in an unholy act of symbolism, and a clear promation to all that Ilgar had now imed leadership of the Izani.

    Gimel wriggled and gasped in an effort to break free; his muscles ached with the struggle; he strained his neck to look up at this usurper now defiling the rightful position of his brother. But he knew that his slim young frame was no match for the weight and strength of these warriors - nothing had been left to chance - they had been chosen well.

    ¡°You have no choice,¡± Ilgar boomed down at him. ¡°Your fate, and that of your family, is already sealed. Your dynasty is over - a new day has dawned on our people. The gods have willed it.¡±

    Gimel flicked his eyes upwards in a brief show of defiance and took in the measure of his captor.

    But he did not need to look - he knew Ilgar well enough - one of his brother¡¯s most capable and effective battle generals - a crude instrument, a battering ram, a graceless war-mallet - but one that usually got results.

    The taut scars rippled across his powerful bronzed muscles; his potent form and bulk brought fear and respect to those close enough to feel the wrath of his broad scimitar; the modest protection of his chest armour still sshed with the reeking gore of his brother. The glint of a smile flickered across his dark face; Gimel had not seen him appear this satisfied with himself since he broke the siege at Yilzid and boiled the satrap in a vat of sepal-tree perfume.

    Gimel¡¯s quick eyes shed around the tent while his mind searched for a response and waited for some suitable words toe.

    The messy carnage of the scene told its own painful story.

    The precious woven carpets were littered in a disarray of silver embroidered cushions and golden tes which had once adorned the royal table; the borate goblets which held wine from the calming valleys of Xylim were dashed to the floor; the costly drapes from the hills of Hyleth, which gave the Imperial tent great protection against the unforgiving heat of the sun and the raging sandstorms, brought by the jealous summer dust-devils, had been ripped from their rightful ce.

    The bodies of his brother, and a few royal guards,y scattered about the tent - but too few for it to have been a fair fight - several more must have either surrendered or betrayed their king. The coup must have been well-nned to have been executed so precisely and with so little bloodshed.

    Ilgar must have stolen arge amount of gold to have funded it.

    But none had been reported missing.

    Gimel¡¯s furious mind red up at his captor.

    The Path of Hornuz had taught him to be brave and resilient - but it had also taught him to be pragmatic.

    Now was not the time for meaningless heroics - brave but empty words would not revenge his family from this disgrace: brave but empty words were the panicked option of a fool - and Gimel was certainly no fool.

    In the past, those who had dared to stand against this grizzled campaigner, were now dust in the desert - forgotten even by the ever-scouring vultures - brave, defiant words would only bring about his swift and certain death, and not the vengeance that this treachery deserved - the vengeance that his nimble mind was already plotting.

    His eyes scanned the tent once again at the others gathered there. None would help him - it was clear that the cowards were only interested in saving their own skins by ingratiating themselves to this cursed usurper.

    No, even his status as a prince of the royal line now meant nothing; all had been dissolved in one well-nned bloodied manoeuvre; in the eyes of these fools, he was merely a weakling boy, and worse still, a magikant - and warriors of the Izani did not trust magik or its bearers; warriors of the Izani preferred to see the terror in their enemy¡¯s eyes as they struck the deadly blow; they preferred the scent of his fear and the warmth of his blood on their battle-calloused hands - they had no time for a belief in things they could not conquer with a sword or an axe or a knife; an enemy who could bewitch them or kill them from afar, was not a worthy foe - he was just a coward hiding behind a party trick; no, Gimel could look for no help here, not amongst these brawny durds.

    ¡°Very well, Ilgar,¡± he replied, as he struggled again to look up at his captor. ¡°I agree - I swear my loyalty to you as my king. I will perform my duties as priest-shaman for you. You need not fear me.¡±

    ¡°Fear!¡± roared Ilgar. ¡°A puny wretch like you?¡±

    The other fools around the tent joined in his thunderingughter.

    Gimel bit his tongue and slowed his breathing.

    Now was not the time.

    The usurper paused to wipe some of the blood from the studs on his leather wrist-guards.

    ¡°Any more words like this and you¡¯ll leave your post as priest ande to work for me as my jester!¡±

    The apanyingughter did not sting Gimel.

    His resolvey safe, buried deep beneath his skin; it bristled and burnt and thrived within him; he felt it growing stronger with each heartbeat, with each gasp ofughter- if he chose to allow his face and tongue to tell a different story, then so much more of a fool Ilgar and the others for believing it.Content provided by N?velDrama.Org.

    He stared out straight before him, deep into the deadened eyes of his brother.

    No words were needed.

    He made his true vow in silence.

    He knew the traditions would dictate thatter in the evening his brother¡¯s skull would be hollowed out and the ceremonial wine, brought dearly from the soft shores of Kyl, would be drunk from it, and then royalty would be conferred to Ilgar, and the usurper¡¯s im to power, to his brother¡¯s legitimate throne, would beplete.

    Theughter of the tent subsided.

    ¡°Very well then,¡± Ilgarmanded, ¡°take my new priest to his quarters. And guards - make sure he is never allowed to feel lonely.¡±

    Gimel took ast long look at the vacant eyes of his older brother as the guards pulled him to his feet.

    His nimble mind raced as it formed its ns.

    He knew what he must do next.

 14. The Next Day

    A dull throbbing pain seeped through Kira¡¯s aching body and insisted on rousing her. Her heavy head pleaded with her not to move, but the sour, metallic taste of her own blood, dark at the back of her throat, forced her to react.

    She coughed and thought about sitting up, but something was covering her face. She reached with weakened, trembling hands and several dry, brittle leaves rustled as she brushed them off.

    Her eyes opened gingerly. Blearily, they adjusted to the creeping glow of daylight and shadows. Her scrambled mind was confused and unsure of where she was or how she had got there; she only knew that her tender body felt battered and bruised all over.

    A blur of worrying and disturbing fragments of memory began to fade back into her consciousness and unravel their horrible truths.

    She tried to sit up again, startled by the violence of her memories; but her movement was too sudden and left her faint from the effort,pelling her to copse back down, t on the cold ground.

    Her fraught eyes began to make out the blotched patchwork of shapes above her and she smelt of the damp clean earth of the forest. Her head rang with nausea, but the troubling recollection of what had happened would not allow her to rest.

    Perhaps it had all been some sort of dreadful nightmare? Surely her hazy, painful memories could not be true?

    Still woozy and uncertain, she sat up again and removed more leaves and debris from her weary body. The dizziness shifted and passed into focus.

    Dense shrubby undergrowth surrounded her, thick with delicately curling green fronds of fern and bracken, beneath a heavy canopy of trees, whose bronzed leaves filtered out the bright wash of morning light and shielded her eyes from the low yellow sun.

    She was nestled in the lee of a short, steep bank which rose up sharply beside her. As her mind cleared, she reasoned that she must have rolled down the embankment which encircled the Grove and ended up in the forest.

    Yes; the trees; she had been running; the memories flooded back and pierced through her with a nauseous shudder.

    She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed her blood back into cirction. She shivered - perhaps from the early chill or perhaps from her sickening shock.

    She turned slowly over to kneel and listened acutely, straining her ears against the morning hush of the forest, but could hear no signs of life - or of the witches. But perhaps the ringing which constantly echoed through her hollowed head might be concealing this?

    She inched her way tentatively up the slope, back to the Sacred Grove, holding tightly to her breath, not daring to betray her presence with a sound; terrified that even the loud thumping of her chest might betray her position.

    She kept low, her nose almost in contact with the fresh earth, her fingers pressing into the soft moist soil, and hidden beneath the cover of a low shrub, she timidly peeked out across the mossy teau, terrified of what she might see.

    A faint warmth of morning sunlight bled in through the haze of yellow woond mist, glinting across the droplets of dew which clung to the thick moss. But the smooth velvet carpet was now scarred ck and rutted with wounding craters which gouged violently into its verdant emerald surface.

    As her eyes adjusted, Kira could make out the terrible sight of crumpled piles of robes and clothing dotted across the circr green in, with plumes of grey-blue smoke driftingzily up from them, mingling effortlessly with the hazy shroud of morning mist.

    She sped her hand tight across her frightened mouth to stop the screaming noise of her fear from escaping and betraying her surreptitious vantage point.

    One nce at this awful scene of destruction and carnage, and she could no longer dare to hope that it had all somehow been a terrible dream.

    She tore her shocked eyes away and tried to calm herself with a few deep breaths; then stole herself to look out once more in order to be certain of what she had just witnessed.

    The subdued calm hush, which wrapped itself across the Grove, pulled at her tense, frayed nerves.

    Against the lonely silence, she could pick out the faint spitting and smouldering of the ceremonial fires; their dying embers crackled and sent up half-hearted wisps of grey pungent smoke. The contented birds calling to one another far away in the forest jarred awkwardly with the disturbing scene; but her eyes had not deceived her - they had told her the dreadful truth.

    ¡°Courage!¡± she thought to herself as she summoned the spirit to raise her head a little and scan around for signs of danger or movement. But she could see nothing - no sign of life, or of those foul creatures.

    Perhaps the morning sun had ushered them away? Or perhaps their evil work had already beenpleted?

    As her eyes darted around; she winced in horror as she recognised a small pile of mauve robes, a simr colour to her own, a short way off, almost directly in front of her.

    It must be one of her fellow novicee. Perhaps they were still alive and wounded? In pain and trouble and in urgent need of her help? Perhaps there was still something she could do to save them? Wouldn¡¯t she want one of her ssmates to assist her if she were lying there in dire need of help?

    The robes were lying motionless just a short sprint away from her - but if she left the safety of her vantage point in the bushes, she would be vulnerable and exposed out on the open mossy in of the Grove.

    Her heart pounded within her tight chest, urging her to stay put in the safety of the undergrowth.

    Did she really want to risk running across that awful ce again? To relive that bewildering, terrifying experience?

    But what if it had been<i> her</i> lying there wounded?

    Her queasy stomach welled up with acid tension.

    A surge of adrenaline coursed through her frightened body, and spurred her on against the advice of her heart.

    ¡°Courage!¡± she breathed softly to herself.

    She crawled out, low to the soft velvet moss; her ears bristled for any sign of movement; her eyes constantly scanned in all directions for signs of danger.

    She furtively approached the crumpled lc robe, ready to sprint back at the faintest sound or motion; but as she drew near, she realised to her horror, that the robes were t - too t to conceal any living thing or body within its meagre folds. She crept closer, but her inspection revealed nothing except some fragments of a cloak, pale mauve like hers, stained by the root of the winter-frost nt, and a ck scar of ashes; and standing upright amongst the disordered grizzly remains, one solitary shiny boot, with a plume of heartless smoke coiling casually up from it.

    A callous terror spiked through her body - it was Hettie¡¯s .

    She sped both hands to her mouth, determined to suppress the anguished cry that was welling up within her anguished body and trying to escape her panicked mind.

    The corrupt smell of the burnt flesh mingled with the scattered remnants of the sweet incense; the low buzz of the flies, which had begun to gather in angry swarms around some of the other charred remains; the overbearing weight of fear, the loss of her ssmates; her heart raced at the undiluted horror of it all.

    It was useless! She could do nothing! They were dead! They were all dead!

    She crouched down and dashed back for the safety of the undergrowth, hardly knowing where she was going, as long as she got away from that nightmare scene.All content ? N/.?vel/Dr/ama.Org.

    She scrambled down the embankment as swiftly as she could, still trying to avoid making any unnecessary noise; still petrified that there might be witches in the area, waiting to pick off any surviving stragglers like her.

    She kept down low through the undergrowth, and on past the first few rows of the trees, until she felt the darkness of the forest canopy envelope her. The shocking fate of herpanions overwhelmed her helpless thoughts and unleashed a torrent of fear through her body. She stood tall and sprinted in earnest, desperate to avoid such a horrible ending, and bolted deep into the shadows of the unknown forest.

    Panic grasped its burning fingers into her terrified mind; she did not know where she ran or what to do; the roar of her panting breath or the dry branches snapping beneath her hasty feet no longer mattered.

    She only knew she wanted to be as far away from the wretched site of that terrible massacre as possible and hoped that the dense forest would shield her from the brightness of the wide open skies.

    She ran, breathless and chaotic, her senses bewildered by the terror that stalked her. She no longer knew or cared which direction she was running, as the surges of dread and adrenaline sped her onwards, deeper into the forest; dodging through the low-hanging branches which ripped and tore at her robe; her skin cut and scratched and bruised, but she could no longer feel the pain - the thick deep gulps of her breath sang only of her fear and of her desire for survival.

    She sped on, hard and fast, until the Grove was lost far behind and her panic and strength began to fade. Her lungs and legs could not keep up this pace much longer; she would have to slow down and rest.

    She looked back hurriedly to check if anything had followed her, to see if it was safe to decrease her speed. Her clumsy feet tripped on the protruding roots of an ancient tree, which hurled her into a heavy heap on the ground, squeezing all the precious air out from her with a sudden, jarring thump.

    Her rattled ribcage strained to draw in a rasping breath. Winded and exhausted, she was forced to remain face down, close to the sweet damp forest floor, while her heart and lungs caught up with the rest of her drained body. She gasped the air back into her numbed system while trying to scan the trees and undergrowth for danger. She hauled herself over onto her back, her heaving frame still relentlessly sucking in the oxygen it so desperately craved, her mind still flooded with terror and dread.

    Slowly her breath andposure returned; she began to take in her surroundings. For now, at least, she seemed safe enough - half hidden beneath the thatched mantle of the forest canopy; and no-one seemed to be following her.

    The cooling balm of the vegetation engulfed her in its dappled gown; the greens and the early reds, the yellows and the mottled oranges, all softly murmuring their poems of Autumn, and offering only the constion of the soft mosses and the shaggy lichens to refurbish the theft of Summer¡¯s green.

    The dizzying colours stretched away around her, in the dim gloom of the forest shadows, far beyond the imagination of the convent scrolls; but their calming beauty puzzled her - surely the Great Surrounder, who had made such wonders, could never have intended her innocent ssmates to have perished so miserably?

    The other girls had revelled in bloodthirsty stories; lying awake, deep into the night, scaring themselves with ghoulish tales of witches and the terrible events that might befall them should they ever be caught by one. But the shattering reality of the Grove was far less appealing - and it was no story at all. The traumatic, grizzly experience brought a violent nausea back to her stomach; the painful images she had just witnessed raced through her startled mind once more.

    But the calmness of the forest persisted.

    The faint rustle of the leaves above her, the soothing embrace of the birdsong; the wonder of the sky and the world beyond the convent walls.

    But, lost amidst her meandering thoughts, the crushing reality of her own situation broke in upon her - she was cold and hungry; exhausted, cut and bruised; lost somewhere in the dark tangled web of a strange and threatening forest, without any way of finding her way home.

    And, on top of all this, amongst the stilled unnatural silence of the trees, she faced the stark realisation that for the first time in her life, she was alone - profoundly and utterly alone.

 15. Alone

    Kira¡¯s stomach rumbled in angry emptiness. Her rain-soaked robes clung hungrily to her weakened body; the cold hard log she sat on offered nofort as the constant rain pattered on the trees above. A dim, endless tangle of lost and bewildered forest engulfed her; the bedraggled, miserable rat¡¯s tails of her drenched hair hung limply down on her aching, sodden shoulders.

    She hugged her knees up to her chest, trying to retain a glimmer of meagre body heat, but at some point in her fleeing panic, she had lost her shawl and now sorely missed its warmth andfort.

    Thest few lonely days of trying to survive in the unknown tangle of branches and foliage, wandering aimlessly without hope or direction in the unending forest, had been a wretched and chastening experience.

    Even worse, the sharp nagging tones of Sister Amelia Constance rang incessantly through her troubled mind and rebuked her from the slough of her despair:

    ¡°The Surrounder has a n and a ce for us all - no matter how disagreeable and how stubbornly we refuse to see it. So stopining and start fulfilling His Great Purpose!¡±

    And the damp forest had agreed with Sister Amelia, forcing Kira to snap out of her torpor and learn to take responsibility for her own survival.

    It had been a novel and unwee experience - as far back as her memory stretched, everything had always been thought out for her: what to eat and when to eat it; what to study and which rooms to be in at certain times; what robes to wear and for which asion; when to pray; when to light a candle, and when its meagre me should be extinguished - the convent had fastidiously nned her days out for her down to thest tiny detail - for, as the Sisterhood knew, demons were certain to inhabit and corrupt idle hands or minds of the young novicee.

    When she reflected on it, Kira realised that the Church had consciously mapped out, not just her present days and nights and meals, but the whole of her future life as it stretched away before her.

    She did not know if she weed this idea.

    At the time, she had been enormously frustrated by the petty rules and regtions of the convent, somehow always managing to fall foul of them in one way or another - to the obvious and great displeasure of the attendant nuns - so she could never have believed she might ever feel differently. But now, strangely, deprived of her prison bars, she began to appreciate and perhaps even to miss them.

    The regrity, the daily certainty, thepany, the warm sweet pikelets for feast-day breakfasts.

    Her stomach growled at her again, aggravated by herforting thoughts of food; the chill wet of the forest roused her once more.

    The noise of the rain had stopped and had been reced by a gentle drip from the high yellow leaves down onto the soft mud.

    She would have to push on if she was to have any hope of rescue or survival; she stood and trudged cautiously through the soggy moss and earth, scanning for any signs of danger, or of salvation.

    Through the deepening gloom of the tree canopy above, it was apparent that evening was falling. It would be dark again soon. She shuddered at the thought of what that would bring - a huddled loneliness spent cowering in the endless unknowing night.

    She should at least look for somewhere less exposed before the darkness brought out its strange sounds and terrors and cold.

    The fearful istion of the vast solitary forest had prevented her from sleeping properly for thest two nights; numbing exhaustion weighed heavily across her body and clouded her head as she slogged on.

    How cold the bitter nights had been!

    Yesterday had even brought down a thick mist with it; it curled across the forest floor and twisted around the trees and bracken, swirling up into phantom shapes, disguising the terrified rm cries of distant animals and birds, and sapping her meagre confidence to the core.

    She had hidden as best she could behind a fallen tree trunk, in the forlorn hope that this decaying moss-covered barricade might protect her in some way.

    She had not even dared to think about the hundreds of spiders and snakes and creepy crawlies and the Surrounder-only-knew-what-else, which had no doubt been slithering and scuttling all about her all through the dreadful long darkness.

    She rubbed her arms about her to try to warm and dry herself. Her feet slopped and crunched through the mud and leaves and twigs. In between the dark looming shadows of the trees, Autumn¡¯s rich bounty of mushrooms peeped out, low in the debris of the undergrowth - but she did not dare to try them without knowing which were poisonous and which were good to eat. And besides, without a fire, a pan and some butter to fry them in, as Sister Hilda always used to prepare them, what use were they anyway?

    Her stomach grumbled loudly at these warming memories, which only made her situation seem even more bleak and cold and hopeless in the dark meandering forest.

    Her feet were sore from the endless drudgery of walking, and hurt where her boots were rubbing at them; her body shivered with the damp evening chill; the shadows around her darkened; soon the creeping fears of the forsaken night would be upon her.

    She stopped to scan the twilight distance for shelter, hopelessly, aimlessly lost in the vast depths of the dark forest. Her keen eyes strained against the dimming light.

    Glinting far off in the murky distance, she noticed a flickering orange glow - a strange spot of intense colour against the monochrome backdrop of the tainted evening.

    Perhaps it was a fire of some sort?

    Or was it some other unknown danger she had yet to encounter - perhaps even the witches? Or a trap set by them to catch her?

    But if it was a fire, this might be her chance of rescue from this miserable and lonely sojourn.

    Someone might be there who could help her, and get her back to the safety of the convent walls.

    She headed cautiously towards the glow; slowly cing her feet as she brushed through the undergrowth, keeping behind the dark shadows of the towering trees, trying to approach without a sound, so she could investigate without giving herself away.

    The charred acrid smell of smoke drifted through the twilight.N?velDrama.Org exclusive content.

    It must be a fire.

    Hungrily, she could almost sense the luxurious drying warmth that the mes must be producing. She stalked on slowly, through the rustling tangle of branches and scrub, pausing to strain her ears for any indication of whose fire it might be, and to make sure she remained undetected.

    Closer still, and she could pick out the asional crack of the burning wood as it spat and split. The glowing reds and oranges threw out dancing shadows which yed on the silent trees.

    Her racing mind filled with hopes - perhaps she might not die out here all alone with only the taciturn forest forpany?

    She could be warm by a fire.

    Perhaps there might even be food and a way back to the convent?

    She was safe!

    But it could still be something else, something dangerous.

    On the journey there, the other girls had entertained themselves with chilling stories of the great woods which surrounded the Grove, and how they were filled with notorious cut-throats and thieves and murderous monsters of all description.

    She crouched low behind a tree while she decided what to do; she rubbed her fingertips into the rough bark as she listened for clues and pondered her next move.

    Dare she risk it?

    If she continued towards the fire she would be warm - but whoever had made it might kill her - or eat her - or worse.

    But if she did not take this chance of warmth and food and rescue, she could be lost out in the unending, unfeeling forest forever.

    She would die there, cold and hungry and alone. No-one would ever even bother to look for her - they would probably just assume that she had perished at the Grove along with all the others.

    And besides, apart from Amber, who was there really that cared enough to even miss her anyway?

    She huddled down motionless behind the tree as she weighed up her options, stuck in a mire of indecision.

    The plume of her breath billowed out before her as a harsh evening chill descended. It was certain to be another bleak night.

    Her wet body trembled from hunger and cold and the weary prospect of another night alone and the fear of not knowing what to do.

    Perhaps she could risk going to the fire?

    It was probably just a group of woodsmen out gathering logs.

    But what if they really were murderers - or worse?

    But alone in the forest for a few more days, she would surely die anyway. Perhaps she had nothing to lose?

    But her doubting instincts demanded that she held back, beyond the flickering shadows, out of sight of the glowing camp-fire.

    Her body shivered; her jaw began to vibrate - whether from cold or nerves orck of sustenance, she could no longer tell.

    She looked up through the asional gaps that Autumn had made in the tree canopy above.

    The moon was already making herself known, and the curious stars gazed down nkly on her from the ck of the vast sky.

    She stared back at them, and hoped that they might somehow inspire her to make a decision.

    In the distance, a wolf let out a intive, guttural howl at the empty evening air, summoning on the friendless dark of the night.

    Kira jumped at the sound, and her skin shuddered at the danger of her own lonely predicament.

    ¡°That settles it then,¡± she announced to herself.

    ¡°Even if they are cut-throats and murderers, I might as well get it over and done with quickly rather than starve or freeze to death out here and be food for the wolves.¡±

    She stood up from her hiding ce.

    ¡°Courage!¡± she whispered to her jangling nerves, and walked through the dark trees towards the flickering orange glow.

 16. Towards the Fire

    The thick undergrowth rustled and scratched against her legs as Kira slowly approached the glow of the fire. The trunks and deep shadows of the trees and the low dark of the evening still held her invisible in their depths.

    The sound of low voices disturbed the forest around her.

    Clearly they were human - so at least she didn¡¯t have to worry about witches or monsters.

    Reassured, she edged slightly nearer through the woond vegetation.

    Closer still; her nose was tickled by the unmistakable smell of food being prepared over the fire. Her stomach grumbled at her to get a move on, but she paused and listened hard; the rest of her body urged caution.

    Across the short darkness, she picked out several distinct voices - all of them men, she judged. One of the voices seemed to be in charge and kept barking out orders to the others and letting them know if things were not to his liking; often the voice shouted at them roughly and used several blunt words which Kira had never encountered before.

    ¡°When¡¯s that stew a-ready?¡± the distinctive gruff voice growled.

    At the sound of the word ¡®stew¡¯, her frustrated stomach agitated again.

    The warmth and brightness of the fire called out to her through the damp, clinging chill of her robes.

    A tempting anticipation rippled through her thoughts and body - the prospect of being able to speak to someone else again, and not to die there alone with only the silent trees forpany; and to befortable by a fire and perhaps even to eat¡­

    ¡°It¡¯s now or never,¡± she told herself, as she stood up from the skulking shadows and began to march straight towards the enticing warmth of the fire.

    ¡°Ermm, ¡­ hello!¡± she announced, still a little way back, so as not to startle those by the fire unnecessarily.

    Even from this distance, it was clear that there were indeed three men, as she had thought. They all immediately sat bolt upright and grabbed for their knives.

    ¡°Hello,¡± said Kira timidly, as she stepped forward into the flickering light, ¡°can I please sit by your fire, sir?¡±

    The men stood up and looked at her with distrustful eyes; the one whose voice she recognised as being the leader addressed her, while the other two kept busily peering out into the dark forest around them.

    ¡°Who are you? What are you a-doing out here?¡± he demanded.

    ¡°Erm¡­, I¡¯m a novice from the Venerated Convent of the Sinless Moon. I¡¯m lost - I mean, I got¡­separated from my ssmates. Can I sit by your fire please? I¡¯m tired and cold and I won¡¯t be any trouble.¡±

    Kira stepped closer into the weing ring of orange warmth and light.

    Closer to the delicious smell of therge pot of stew which seemed to beckon her in; thick and bubbling above the fire; attended by a haggard-looking woman, whose stooped shoulders were worn down by time and circumstance, and whose voice Kira had not detected from the safety of the shadows.

    ¡°Alright, you can sit down here, little girl,¡± said the one who was in charge. He indicated a ce by the fire, but his eyes kept scanning deep into the distrusting shadows of the forest behind her, and one hand still sped tightly to his knife. The other two men moved cautiously about the camp-fire and gazed out in different directions, alert and restive.

    Kira sat on the log the one in charge had pointed to. Close up, he was arge burly man whose build suited his gruff voice; his ck hair sat above a deep scar, shed across his forehead and face.

    One of the others was thin and pale, while the third was tall and powerfully built.

    The warmth of the fire reached out to Kira¡¯s grateful legs and body, but the brooding, powerful presence of the one in charge disturbed her thankful relief.

    Perhaps she was just shy and unused to malepany?

    They had been good enough to let her sit with them, after all.

    ¡°Where¡¯s the rest of your travellin¡¯panions?¡± the one in charge asked. ¡°A young girl like you shouldn¡¯t be out here in the forest all alone. Don¡¯t you know there are dangers hereabouts?¡±

    ¡°Well, I got ¡­er.. separated from them,¡± Kira said, not sure how much of her story to tell. ¡°¡­ and I haven¡¯t eaten in a few days,¡± she said as she deliberately eyed the steaming cauldron.

    ¡°Oh, I see,¡± said the pensive boss, his eyes still searched the dark tree-line out beyond the camp. ¡°You¡¯d better have a bowl of our stew then. Martha, get her a bowl!¡±

    The dour-looking womandled out a small portion of the bubbling liquid and Kira gulped it down without caring if it burnt her mouth or not. Her stomach gurgled its appreciation.

    It was not the best stew she had tasted - not as good as Sister Dorothea¡¯s, who added plenty of salted rosemary to it - but it was good, and its warming nourishment thawed her relieved insides. The glow from the fire began to dry her robe and body; the drifting trails of water vapour rose and swirled from her boots; a subtle contentment cradled her.

    Her anxious shoulders rxed.

    Surely they couldn¡¯t be murderers or cut-throats if they made such nice stew?

    And they had been kind enough to share it with her.

    The thin man and the muscr one continued to prowl around the dark perimeter of their small encampment; the scarred man, who was in charge, kept his eyes on them and on Kira; the de of his long knife shed in the glow of the fire.

    ¡°Where¡¯s your ma and par?¡± he asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think I have any,¡± Kira replied. ¡°I was a novice at the nunnery at Corborough - and I¡¯ve been there since before I can remember, so I don¡¯t know about any family.¡±

    The heat of the fire thawed out her weary body; plumes of steam rose from her drying tunic; the nourishment of the stew rippled down and rehydrated her; the relief of finally having a conversation with another human being began to melt her tense concerns.

    ¡°Corborough? That¡¯s a fair old way from here,¡± continued the scarred boss. ¡°But won¡¯t those nuns be a-looking out for you then?¡±

    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know,¡± said Kira. ¡°They might think I was killed with my ssmates back at the Sacred Grove. I mean, I was there a few nights ago, but we were attacked by witches.¡±

    ¡°Oh! Witches is it?¡± said the boss, ¡°Yes, there be some nasty things about in these woods - can¡¯t never be too careful.¡± He nced round at his colleagues and the dark forest.

    ¡°So there¡¯s no-one really?¡± he said, returning his focus to Kira. ¡°I mean, you¡¯ve got no-one that¡¯s a-looking out for you, and a-thinking you¡¯d be missing and a-wishing you was back safely home with them?¡±

    ¡°Well, probably not - only my friend Amber. And the Prima Sister - Amelia Constance - she scolded me so often, I should think she¡¯s probably pleased to be rid of me. She¡¯s such an old meanie.¡±

    The scarred boss put his knife away and sat down near the fire.

    ¡°And so you¡¯re here all alone then? Well, a most encouraging piece of luck that you found us, I should say.¡±

    He rubbed his hands towards the dancing orange mes.

    ¡°Pocket! Scout the perimeter - make sure there are no¡­ wolves¡­ or such-like a-prowling around.¡±

    The shorter, thin man, slunk off into the forest shadows which encircled the camp.

    The warming blood began to pulse through Kira¡¯s numbed legs; she rubbed them and stretched her grateful hands towards the fire.

    The mes crackled and spat.

    A heavy silence smothered the warm brightness.

    Surely it would only be polite to keep up the conversation?

    Wouldn¡¯t it just be rude to sit and eat and never talk to her hosts?

    ¡°So, are you lost out here too?¡± she asked.

    ¡°No, littledy,¡± the scarred boss replied, ¡°we are a-travellin¡¯ through these woods - along the Northern Route towards the coast. We just a-pulled in here for the night. The track is just over yonder, but it¡¯s safer to camp a little way off it.¡±

    The thinner man appeared back within the glow of the fire-light; arge bunch of keys on his belt jangled as he sheathed his knife. ¡°It¡¯s all clear out there boss,¡± he said.

    Kira¡¯s shoulders eased down into ce.

    She was safe - there would be no wolf attacks, or monsters, or witches tonite.

    The luxurious contentment of the fire radiated up at her; the pirouetting sparks glided up and danced in the patterns of its changing mes.

    This was how she had imagined life outside the convent walls should be - a cosy warmth, andpany, and stew, and no maths lessons or nuns to trouble her.

    A gentle metallic tinkling chimed intermittently from behind the supply wagon which formed one side of the camp.

    ¡°Will your horses be warm enough over there, so far away from the fire?¡± she asked.

    ¡°What them?¡± said the boss, ncing over to the wagon. ¡°Oh yes, they¡¯ll be fine where they are. You like horses, do you? Want toe and see them? Pocket and I will take you over and introduce, you if you like.¡±

    ¡°Yes please,¡± said Kira, as she stood to follow her hosts.

    Away from the warmth and light provided by the fire, Kira¡¯s eyes strained through the thick, shifting shadows which swam across the wagon.

    ¡°Just round here, miss,¡± the boss smiled.

    In the dim light, the dark outlines of two horses munched on some shrubs a little way off from the camp.

    But the tinkling sound continued - somewhere down low, close to the wheels.

    Another group of people, perhaps ten or so, sat there; they huddled together in muted silence, each covered with only a few miserable ragged clothes, which hung wet and limp from their dirty battered bodies. They had hunkered down with their backs against the wheels of the wagon; they visibly shivered in the chill of the night, their wrists and ankles shackled in a heavy set of iron chains and manacles.

    Kira winced; her skin trembled and crawled in shocked repulse.

    She had heard that bad people were often locked up in chains and kept in jails as punishment - indeed the nuns had often threatened her with this very fate on particrly vexing asions - but the reality seemed even more truly awful than her imagination could have envisaged.

    ¡°But these aren¡¯t horses!¡± she gasped. ¡°Are they your prisoners? Did theymit a crime? They don¡¯t look veryfortable or warm. Perhaps you should feed them and bring them over by the fire too?¡±

    ¡°Oh, these ain¡¯t no prisoners,¡± said the boss, ¡°these here are ves. We¡¯re taking them to be sold at Albsberg port.¡±

    ¡°ves! Oh, but that¡¯s horrible!¡±

    ¡°And now we know you be all alone and not likely a-looked for, it seems that you¡¯ll be a-joining them, missy.¡±

    ¡°What? Me?¡± Kira replied. ¡°But I haven¡¯t done anything wrong!¡± and she turned to face her host, determined to protest.

    ¡°Quit yer snivelling!¡± was his rough answer.

    The bitter sting of his palm smacked across her shocked cheek.

    Her head jerked and reeled; she sprawled to the damp ground; her face and jaw rang in caustic pain; her senses scrambled for meaning from the humiliating blow, but had no time to recover from the ringing impact; the bruising knees of Pocket dug hard into her ribs, pinning her down; the miserable biting cold iron of the shackles snapped shut and stung deep into the soft skin of her ankles and calves.

    ¡°Not much meat on her bones,¡± Pocketmented as he got off her. ¡°But she might fetch a coin or two at Albsberg.¡±

    ¡°An unexpected bonus I should say!¡± The boss rubbed his hands together. ¡°A nice little bit of business at no extra cost to ourselves - all told, a most encouraging night¡¯s work.¡±

    They walked away, back to thefort of the fire.

    A stupefying daze hummed through Kira¡¯s ears, venomous and oppressive; a bitter red welt burned at her raw cheek.N?velDrama.Org exclusive content.

    The wet muddy ground squelched and sucked at her numbed, wretched body, leaching away the heat and hope of the fire; but the heavy, nagging shackles prevented her from shifting position.

    She trembled with cold and shock and reached around her shoulders to pull at a warm shawl that was not there.

    She had never been hit before - not even the nuns in their most angry moods had ever resorted to physical cruelty.

    She peered through the dim chilling, darkness at the other silent unfortunates chained to her and to each other. After the forced istion of the forest, she now at least had somepany; and yet, in all her years, she had never felt so helplessly and miserably alone.

 17. All is Lost

    Father Steadman rubbed his fingers deep into the fraught arms of his chair.

    The gaunt, pensive faces of his colleagues huddled around his desk in a tense silence; the bright cheering crackle and ze of his fire seemed badly at odds with the solemn, brooding atmosphere and somehow it had entirely failed to warm the chill which ran through him.

    He let out a slow breath.

    A dry reticence stuck to the back of his throat - perhaps some of his warming ruby wine might help? But surely this was a time for clear heads and minds.

    The Pleiad hade to him for leadership and answers - but what could he do?

    He could not fight these witches - his old sword would not defend him against their insidious magik.

    And there were no reserve troops to call upon, no chance to swing the battlete on in the weary day - he had trusted the abilities of the Harmonist and deployed all his forces in one bold counter-offensive.

    The glum listless faces of his colleagues stared at the mute floor or directly at him - clearly they had not been sleeping either - but could they afford the luxury of sleep now? Or ever again?

    And in any case, now was not the time to rest, but to take decisive action - if only his jaded mind could think of a solution.

    ¡°Then all is lost! We are undone!¡± Odal broke the suppressed gloom.

    ¡°Nothing can save us now,¡± Rowe sipped at his wine. ¡°It was the Harmonist or nothing.¡±N?velDrama.Org exclusive content.

    ¡°Even if we flee, where could we go?¡± Fencliffe asked. ¡°Where would we be safe from these flying menaces?¡±

    ¡°Our glorious Church is ended!¡± Odal wailed.

    ¡°No, gentlemen!¡± Caldor said. ¡°I refuse to ept that the Great Surrounder, in all his mighty wisdom, has meant such a thing to befall his most beloved worshippers.¡±

    ¡°But these events do seem to tie in with the research of brother Lanqvist¡­¡± Byram suggested.

    Steadman allowed his eyes to wander to his right. Lanqvist sat back, deep into his chair; his supporting staff seemed frail and impotent, his long white hair had lost its lustre.

    ¡°No! We cannot just ept such a terrible fate,¡± Rowe took another sip of wine. ¡°There must be some way to fight back?¡±

    ¡°But none of the magikants survived!¡± Odal proimed. ¡°Surely we are all doomed!¡±

    ¡°Not even his apprentices lived,¡± said Byram. ¡°Of course, there are still the students at Puristad, but they are still under tutge, and none are yet of sufficient ability or wisdom to perform the Spell.¡±

    ¡°We are lost!¡± Odal wailed.

    Steadman gripped the arms of his chair; he could not afford to allow the Pleiad itself to fall into despair - who would assist the people if their leaders were lost to hopelessness?

    A good general mustmand - even if this meant using unorthodox methods.

    ¡°But gentlemen,¡± he interrupted, ¡°there is still one we know of who would be powerful enough to cast the Spell and save us - if we could reach him in time¡­¡±

    ¡°Surely you cannot mean¡­¡± Caldor¡¯s dark eyes shed at him.

    ¡°Yes - he would appear to be our only hope now¡­¡± Steadman replied solemnly.

    ¡°But not afterst time?¡± Caldor¡¯s body twitched, ready to stand from his chair.

    ¡°Not after what happened?¡± said Fencliffe.

    ¡°Do we still even know how to contact him?¡± asked Byram.

    ¡°I had, of course, not foreseen such momentous events,¡± said Steadman, ¡°but I thought it would be wise to keep a watch on one as powerful as he. I have had various reports of sightings over the years - we should at least try to contact him - what other choice do we have?¡±

    ¡°He is the only one capable of helping us now,¡± Lanqvist leant forward in his chair and stared at them earnestly from under his bushy eyebrows. ¡°That is, of course, if he is prepared toe here and help us at all¡­¡±

    A soothing ripple of relief calmed through Steadman¡¯s body. If he had Lanqvist in his reserves, he could certainly pacify and persuade the others.

    ¡°And perhaps in the meantime we should begin preparations for an evacuation?¡± Fencliffe suggested.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Odal agreed. ¡°I¡¯m sure we would all be safer at Sannville - at least it¡¯s further away from the forest where these creatures seem to dwell.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps some of our more precious artefacts could be transported there?¡± Rowe offered.

    Caldor¡¯s chair scraped as he stood and harangued the room.

    ¡°But what sort of message would that send to our congregation?¡± he asked. ¡°They would assume we were afraid, that we were abandoning them, that our faith in the Surrounder had waned. How would we ever regain our authority over them if we allowed such a thing to ur?¡±

    This truly was a most unusual meeting - even the ck-robed priest had proved himself to be useful - however inadvertently.

    ¡°Yes gentlemen,¡± Steadman agreed, ¡°we must stay put for now. We must be ready to lend support and strength to our flock if they need us - there can be no talk of leaving. And also, if our messenger is sessful, we must remain here and be ready to meet our¡­ guest.¡±

    The members of the Pleiad murmured to their neighbours; it seemed that his suggestion held sway for now - it gave them some sort of battle n, a hope, a fighting chance at least.

    The noise grew and thawed the room.

    The fire sparked brightly once more.

    Rowe leant towards the desk for another ss of wine.

    ¡°Well,¡± Caldor concluded through the background rumble, ¡°I have important Treasury business to attend to - but it seems, as ever, that we must trust in the tireless wisdom of the Surrounder to provide and protect us all.¡±

    Odal and Fencliffe also stood to make their departures.

    Steadman observed the ck-robed priest carefully as he held out his hand.

    He could not detect the merest trace or glimmer of artifice about the cleric - and yet somehow his office always seemed so much morefortable whenever Caldor was not in it.

 18. A Short Walk

    Caldor pulled his thick autumn cloak tighter around his body; the long stone corridors of the Cathedral felt chilly and damp after the warmth of the Patrex¡¯s office.

    Fencliffe and Odal walked beside him; their sombre footsteps echoed in time to his own.

    ¡°He is floundering,¡± Fencliffe insisted in a low tone, ¡°grasping at old superstitions - instead of showing the true light and leadership that our beloved Church requires.¡±

    ¡°See how desperate he has be,¡± Odal added, ¡°he is even prepared to bring back the great enemies of our Faith in his reckless and futile efforts.¡±

    ¡°And wasn¡¯t it the Patrex himself who told the congregation about the ritual?¡± Fencliffe said. ¡°No doubt that¡¯s how the witches knew when to attack - it was almost as if he deliberately sabotaged the whole thing himself.¡±

    ¡°And he even broke with all protocol to do it - by addressing the people directly himself,¡± Odal agreed.

    ¡°This fool will lead us to ruin - the loss of the Harmonist is the least of our worries - our own Patrex will destroy us from within,¡± Fencliffe hissed.

    ¡°And who will protect us and stop the witches now?¡± Odal asked.

    ¡°Hang the witches!¡± Caldor interjected. ¡°The Great Surrounder would never allow such desecrations to defeat this - His most glorious Church - it cannot be His will.¡±

    ¡°And yet¡­ they seem quite powerful,¡± Odal suggested.

    ¡°But our faith is stronger,¡± Caldor replied, ¡°and our trust in the Surrounder will shield us from any cmity.¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Fencliffe added, ¡°but only a man of true faith and vision can save the Church from this catastrophe - surely the time hase?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Caldor replied, ¡°not yet - there is still one more thing we need to put in ce before we are truly ready.¡±

    A distant door rattled shut behind them.

    Caldor turned around and scanned the length of the corridor; he pulled his cloak tighter and higher around his neck and mouth.

    ¡°But my work at the Treasury is quite urgent, gentlemen - I must attend to the building works in the Great Library - let us meet in my chamberter this evening, where we will have a little more privacy.¡±This belongs to N?velDrama.Org: ?.

    His colleagues nced about them and walked quickly off along the dim passageway.

 19. A Coup Completed

    Ilgar sank back into the soft cushions of the throne; the image of the boy-priest being dragged away still resonated and pleased him.

    And so it had been done.

    It had been easier than he thought.

    Too easy perhaps - where was the sport, the glory of openbat?

    Where was the blood and the howling of the newly-made widows?

    The king had died quietly, without honour.

    True, his attack had been sudden and unexpected - but the best attacks always are.

    And what mattered most in this case was the swift decisive result, not the means of its achievement, or the stench of death and the beauty of the ughter.

    He reached for a goblet of the old king¡¯s best wine.

    The smooth gold felt at home beneath his grasp; the dark, heady liquid brought almost as much pleasure as a finely bnced sword, or a well-trained dancing girl.

    Eram shuffled close behind him, near the throne, protecting his back as he had done in countless campaigns and battle-fields. He leant forward to speak.

    ¡°You are aware that the tribes in the boy¡¯s homnds to the west, are still loyal to his father¡¯s dynasty, my Lord? The boy, although useless on his own, could be a rallying point for some of the more powerful n chiefs - they could unite around him and mount a challenge to your rule. However, if the boy were to be ¡®lost¡¯ somehow ¡­¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Ilgar replied, ¡°we may need the young pup yet. Keep him close - if he is seen to be supporting my rule, it may serve to persuade those in his homnds to transfer their loyalty to me.¡±

    The stench of the in king and his guards drifted into the tent on a warming wind; the stale odour of their heads, impaled on the stakes outside, already attracted a dense hum of buzzing flies.

    Ilgar smiled to himself.

    The remnants of their bloodied remains made the softness of his new throne feel more like the honour of conquest, than the under-hand subtlety of a coup.

    ¡°Also,¡± he continued, ¡°while the boy is still a ¡®guest¡¯ here with us, they would not dare risk an open attack - for it would certainly mean the end of the old blood-line. I know that some are still loyal to the old dynasty - but from what I hear, even the n chiefs in the west are unhappy that this weakling, thest descendant, is tainted by magik. No Eram, my trusted friend, there is no love in their hearts for him, a mere magikant - and their ardour for revenge will soon be quelled when I reward them for their support.¡±

    ¡°But he still has the right of a challenge tobat, my Lord.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. He is too young and scrawny to even dare think of such things. The whimpering puppy was almost in tears at the sight of his brother - he has no taste for blood. Anyone would think he was not even an Izani.¡±

    Ilgar drained the ornate goblet and mmed it hard on the table next to him.

    ¡°More wine!¡± he shouted.

    Yes, he could certainly get used to this victorious life of conquest.

    Perhaps it was time to enjoy the spoils of war, rather than the glories of the field?

    He leant over towards Eram.

    ¡°Besides, we agreed to keep him alive - at least for now - at least until all of the gold has been delivered.¡±

    He smiled at the dark blood that had dried into a stain on his wrist-guard.

    He would not clean it - not for all the sand held by the endless wandering dunes - it would forever remind him of the day he became the proud king of the Izani.Content provided by N?velDrama.Org.

    ¡°But Eram, see that the guards keep a close eye on him - if there is any suspicious activity, do not hesitate to execute him.¡±

 20. The Market at Thinisby

    Ellis loitered by the busy market stall; he breathed in the fresh scent of the ripe produce and absorbed the rowdy, distracting sounds of the carts and the traders and the geese.

    His master¡¯s lessons were interesting, but it was good to get out of the cottage, to breathe in the bustle of town life and stretch his legs for an afternoon.

    The days had shortened - already the nights threatened a frost - but the sun still offered a lush mellow warmth, and the promise of a bountiful harvest as it bounced off and heated the back of his head.

    He tested the weight of a plump turnip. His master¡¯s coin did not go as far as it used to - but this was the most reasonably priced vendor in Thinisby - and they must eat.

    Near the fountain behind him, the low rumble of a heavy wagon reverberated through the shouts of the hawkers and the discordant squabbling of the chickens.

    He turned and lifted his hand to shield his eyes against the low Autumn sun; its cordial yellows streaked across the town square, highlighting the bright rolls of cloth and yarn, and the cascading piles of fruit and vegetables.

    A ragged line of miserable men were chained behind the wagon. Several had ribs visible through sallow, grimy skin which looked jaundiced in the happy afternoon light.

    They wouldn¡¯tst long tied to the galley oars of a Thruan merchant ship, or lost deep in the salt mines of Anbar.

    The caged goats, who bleated mournfully in the butcher¡¯s cart, surely had a better chance of survival.

    The other townsfolk strolled past this deplorable sight; they did not seem to see or notice the human cargo.

    And why should they?

    It was nothing new.

    A sour and wounding memory rattled and stung across his thoughts.

    Hadn¡¯t he almost ended up joining such piteous ranks?

    His own father had virtually been forced to abandon him to such a fate - he was just one hungry mouth less to feed - and none of the local farmers or craftsmen would employ him - not once they had discovered the truth about him.

    What terrible things might have befallen that frightened and helpless boy if Aldwyn had note and taken him as his votary?

    ¡°Do you want that turnip or not,d?¡± the stall-holder demanded.

    ¡°Err... no thanks,¡± Ellis replied as he returned it to the pile.

    His mind bubbled and burned; rippling with painful, indignant imaginings.

    What sort of life would that have been?

    And wasn¡¯t it just luck that he had escaped such dire circumstances?

    He shuffled closer to the wagon, absently blending with the busy crowd.

    A bald bearded, muscr ver tied two emaciated horses to the fountain; they bent their sagging necks towards the water and greedily ked their thirst.

    A burly-looking ver, with a red scar down the side of his face, seemed to be in charge:

    ¡°You stay here with the goods,¡± he instructed a third, much thinner colleague. ¡°Keep a close eye on things - and mind you don¡¯t go a-wandering off! Dak and I have business to attend to - we¡¯ll be back directly.¡±

    The two bigger men walked away from the marketce, past the line of their ves.

    Ellis¡¯s eyes traced themzily, but stopped to refocus on the puny-looking ve at the end of the chain.

    What new disgrace was this?

    How much lower could such people sink?

    Had they no shame?

    No sense of humanity at all?

    To be trading in girls - and young ones at that!

    She was probably no older than him - a miserable and forlorn creature; her bedraggled hair framed a nched, weakened face, sttered with the filth and dirt of the road.

    Pale streaks ran down her cheeks - perhaps a sign that she had been left exposed to an unforgiving rainstorm - or perhaps washed there by her tears.

    Her bare feet were bleeding - they had not calloused over - clearly she could not have been born to a life of such hardship and poverty.

    And the bulky leg-irons had cut deep into the unprotected skin of her ankles and her filthy, bruised calves.

    There was a danger of blood poisoning - that might exin her pallid face.

    A wee pulse of satisfaction flowed through him - his master¡¯s methods of observation and diagnosis had taught him much.

    His training had already progressed well enough for him to know how to staunch the flow of her blood and ease her wounds - the farmers who had once shunned him and feared his magik were now happy to pay for him to cure them.

    Perhaps he should offer to help?

    Hadn¡¯t he once been in a simrly forlorn situation?

    Wouldn¡¯t he have wanted some sense of hope? Of kindness? Or goodness?

    Certainly no-one else seemed bothered or prepared to intervene - and how could he criticise them, if he also stood by and did nothing?

    He pursed his lips; he shouldn¡¯t really interfere; wouldn¡¯t he just be keeping her alive longer - perhaps it might even be cruel?

    But his master always said it was their duty to act - to heal where they could, and leave the rest to Fate - and he couldn¡¯t just leave the poor girl to suffer.

    His legs seemed keener to act than his mind; they pulled him towards the thin-looking ver, while his thoughts searched and scrambled for some words to say.

    ¡°The girl on the end is bleeding quite badly,¡± he motioned towards the bedraggled ve. ¡°Her wounds look infected and will poison her blood.¡±

    The narrow-faced ver squinted back at him.

    ¡°What of it, boy?¡± he replied brusquely.

    ¡°She won¡¯t be of any profit to you if she bleeds to death before you can get her to the port. I am a healer - let me do what I can for her.¡±

    ¡°I ain¡¯t a-paying for no healer boy. Be off with you!¡±

    ¡°I did not ask for any coin,¡± said Ellis. ¡°Let me help the girl without payment - as part of my religious duties.¡±

    ¡°Hmm, that one at the end? She¡¯s not worth bothering with.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure your friends would be pleased with you when they return - a healthy ve will fetch more profit that a half-dead one.¡±

    ¡°Well, get on with it then, see if I care,¡± the thin ver snorted. ¡°But no funny business, see?¡±

    The ver raised his arm in a threatening manner.N?velDrama.Org exclusive content.

    Ellis nodded and approached the girl.

 21. An Escape

    Kira slumped against the side of the wagon; her body ached from the days of constant walking and theck of food; her exhausted frame was too weary to even sit down; and if she did manage to copse onto the hard cobbles below, her fatigued legscked the strength or energy to stand her back up again - and she had seen how the vers treated those who failed to get up and walk on theirmand.

    No - better to remain standing and take advantage of the warming sun - perhaps it would dry her out a little and offer somefort to her numbed, traumatised limbs.

    Her legs and feet were raw and blistered and cut. The wounds had distressed her terribly and at first - the pain kept her awake through the long chill of the nights - but now she felt nothing; she shuddered, afraid that this oozingck of sensation might be even worse.

    A young man with earnest blue eyes was speaking to Pocket.

    She strained to hear the conversation above the rowdy bustle of the market.

    Perhaps he intended to buy one of the ves?

    He seemed to keep pointing in her direction.

    Was it her he wanted?

    If he bought her, would this be the end of her dreadful suffering? Or just the beginning of something far worse?

    No-one had thought to pay her any heed in any of the other towns and viges she had trudged through - except for the alderman¡¯s wife back in Ghenworth, who had noticed her boots and thought that they would do nicely for her daughter.

    The boots had begun to pinch anyway - but at least they offered some protection from the sharp stinging stones which littered the roads - and they had helped prevent the leg-irons from cutting into her ankles.

    Her jaded mind was emptied by fatigue and loss of hope; she was too tired to move or speak as the boy approached.

    He did not have the predatory look of a buyer - and his in clothing did not indicate that he was wealthy enough.

    He took some ointment from the small sk on his belt and knelt to apply it to the festering sores which wept across her purple blotched and bloodied ankles.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± he said in a soft, calm voice, ¡°this will help to heal you.¡±

    The touch of his hand tingled with a subtle strangeness. Perhaps it was something in the ointment? Or perhaps it was simply the unfamiliarity of human contact and kindness after the cold cruelties of the leg irons - it was impossible to tell - she could barely sense his fingers through the blunt, insensible wounds.

    He was the first person to show any sign of concern or sympathy toward her in the long days since her miserable capture.

    Her shattered mind rxed and reinvigorated - perhaps there was still goodness and charity in the world? Perhaps there was reason to hope and to strive?

    She looked down at him as he worked.

    He seemed kind - perhaps he would even help her escape?

    But she could trust him? Could she ever trust anyone again?

    But then what choice did she have, really?

    She took a deep breath.

    For the first time in what seemed like a terrible forever, her destiny seemed to be back in her own hands.

    She must seize this opportunity or be condemned to a life of very.

    If she ever wanted to escape from this horror and somehow get back to the safety of the convent, she would have to summon the energy and force herself to act.

    A pie-seller strolled past supporting arge tray of delicious-smelling goods. Pocket¡¯s nose and eyes followed the savoury aroma; its scent pulled him along a few steps - a few steps away from her and the boy.

    It was now or never: ¡°Courage!¡± her mind urged.

    ¡°Please,¡± she whispered, her thin voice cracked and hoarse from dry exhaustion: ¡°please help me. I¡¯m not a ve - I owe these men nothing - they have captured me - I was a novice at the nunnery at Corborough - I¡¯ve been stolen.¡±

    The young man looked intently at her; the blue of his eyes shone into hers.

    ¡°Please! You¡¯ve got to help me,¡± Kira exhorted. ¡°I won¡¯tst much longer like this. You can see the robes I¡¯m wearing,¡± and she held out the dirty ripped rags which draped across her body to him.

    ¡°Yes,¡± he replied, ¡°I noticed the cloth - and your skin is far too soft for you to be a farm girl.¡±

    ¡°Please help me!¡± she urged him again. Her fervent desperation forced a new intensity to her voice, the acute need for secrecy momentarily forgotten.

    Pocket turned suddenly and faced her once more.

    ¡°Here! What¡¯s you quelping about now? You miserable runt!¡± he said.

    The anxious blood drained and prickled through her body.

    She had been discovered - there was no point in trying to keep quiet any longer.

    ¡°Help! Please help me!¡± she shouted as loud as her fitful voice would allow her - to the boy, or anyone else in the market who might hear her.

    Pocket started toward her and raised a threatening arm.

    ¡°You shut that mouth of yours! I knewed you was trouble the moment Iid eyes on yer!¡±

    Her weary, deadened cheek hardly felt the bitter pain of the blow, but the force of the cruel strike dashed her to the ground; the sour taste of blood filled her mouth.

    Pocket pushed the boy to the ground and loomed menacingly over her.

    ¡°I¡¯ll muzzle you good if you can¡¯t keep that trap of yours shut!¡± he snarled.

    The hard, uneven cobbles of the market dug into her ribs and face; her ears rang in a dizzying buzz. She was too tired, too utterly without hope or energy to move; shey in a pitiful crumpled heap. Pocket reached for the hungry cat-o¡¯-nine-tails which hung from his thick belt near the weight of his keys. She took a deep breath and braced herself for the searing pain that was certain to follow.

    Behind him, the boy sprang to his feet and barrelled hard and low into the angry ver; Pocket¡¯s eyes bulged in shock; the dazed wind gasped out of his hanging mouth as he and the boynded in a sprawling tangle near to her.

    The heavy chains pinned Kira in ce, but she tried to move - to kick, to hit, to do anything to help the boy - but her lethargic body did not have the strength or speed to assist in the frantic, punching grapple that writhed in the straw and filth of the market street next to her.

    The boy¡¯s surprise attack seemed to have given him the upper hand; he bounded back up.

    He would help her.

    He would free her - now, while Pocket was still struggling on the ground.

    Surely he must.

    But her desperate heart sank, as the boy ran away from her, over towards the fountain.

    What was he doing?

    Was he just saving his own skin?

    Why didn¡¯t he help her escape?

    Pocket got up as the boy fumbled with something by the fountain.

    Pocket cursed loudly and rubbed the dust from his eyes.

    The chance to help her escape had vanished - the boy had let her down.

    Pocket moved towards the boy; his young assant gave the two wagon horses a huge p on their hindquarters.

    The startled beasts gave out a raucous whinnying cry and tore off across the market square, in a ttering thunder of hooves, they hurtled and crashed into stalls, chickens, pots and barrels as they careered off, leaving a trail of havoc and rolling turnips in their wake.

    Kira tried to sit up, determined to see what was happening.

    A pulse of hopeful adrenaline thudded through her.

    For a brief instant, Pocket stood in stunned silence; he red furiously at the boy and swore a bloody revenge, then charged after the horses at full pelt, yelling ¡°Stop them horses!¡± at the top of his lungs.

    Many of the townsfolk stood andughed, seemingly more intent on enjoying this unexpected entertainment than helping, while several furious stall-holders tried to grab Pocket and shouted at him to pay for their damages.

    The kind young man dashed back over and knelt beside her.

    He had not abandoned her!

    Her optimistic heart beat momentarily faster - surely this was it - she would be free!

    But a troubled spike of doubt shot through her; the hopeful rosy pulse faltered and copsed into a cold despair.

    The boy would never be able to free her now - Pocket had the only key to her manacles - and Pocket had gone.

    The boy¡¯s kindness would not help, it would not get her out of this situation - he might heal her wounds, but she was still a ve and must ept her terrible fate.

    The raw disappointment prickled through her.

    The throbbing pain rang and growled across her cheek.

    The boy pulled her up to a sitting position, then opened the palm of his hand.

    A vivid wave of relief convulsed through Kira¡¯s excited, grateful body - he was holding the keys!

    ¡°I grabbed them from his belt while we were wrestling on the ground,¡± the boy smiled.All content ? N/.?vel/Dr/ama.Org.

    He fumbled with the heavy lock; he tried one key, then another.

    The acid adrenaline coursed through Kira¡¯s racing heart.

    The vers could be back at any moment.

    Her frantic eyes darted around the marketce.

    Why was this taking so long?

    The young man tried a third key; it fitted; he struggled to turn it in the stiff, rusty mechanism.

    Kira strained her agitated senses and tried to remember to breathe - the cruel vers must return soon - wasn¡¯t that the sound of their pounding, angry footsteps? Or just her own trembling pulse?

    The lock clicked open; the cumbersome chain rattled to the cobbles.

    The weight and irritating pressure dropped from her thankful legs.

    Surely she would get away?

    The young man hauled her up to her unsteady feet and tossed the keys to the nearest ve.

    ¡°Quickly! This way!¡± he said urgently, above the continuing tumult of the market.

    His helpful strength squeezed at her arm tightly as he bustled her down a side street just off the main square.

    Kira¡¯s gashed legs stabbed and buckled and wobbled beneath her.

    ¡°Wait! I can¡¯t run!¡± she pleaded.

    ¡°You have to - we can¡¯t get caught here!¡± her benefactor exhorted.

    She knew he was right.

    Hadn¡¯t she seen how cruel the vers could be?

    If she were recaptured now, she wouldn¡¯t be sold, but more likely whipped to death as an example to keep the others cowed and in their ce.

    She winced and stumbled along behind her rescuer; stinging jabs of pain convulsed up through her throbbing legs; the days of malnourishment and mistreatment left them nearme.

    She grimaced and gasped through the pain.

    The boy pulled and dragged and carried her along the narrowing dark back streets.

    An urgent determinationpelled her forward - her desperation to escape, the terror of re-capture, the certainty of her punishment, all rattled through her frightened mind and forced her unwilling body onwards.

    Her defiant, exhausted mind scrambled to think, to hang on to the boy, to propel her legs - oblivious to where they were, or where they were going; she must focus on one thing - to keep up with the boy - to move her raw, burning legs and feet and follow her young saviour to have any hope of freedom or life.

    Her tormented legs screamed and distorted in anguish; she hobbled through the searing fingers of agony - the distress of running would be nothingpared to the horrors of being seized again.

    She leant heavily on the young man and urged herself forward.

    Her new-foundpanion dragged and assisted her along a twisting web of winding streets; further and deeper through the narrow, cobbled alleyways; past the ramshackle buildings which hemmed them in and blocked out the tight corners and the sunlight; past the angry shouting voices from the opened windows above; and the washing lines, and the stray chickens, and the muddy foetid puddles.

    The caustic agony of her legs gnawed at her spirit; it jabbed deep into her energy and thoughts; hungry to catch up with her, to hunt her down and ovee her.

    Her thick breath came in spasms.

    She was certain they must have covered a good amount of ground.

    Surely they were well away from the danger of the market area by now?

    She slowed and nced feverishly behind her.

    There was no sign of anyone pursuing them.

    The maddening palpitations of her heart urged her to ease her pace, urged her to stop.

    Her tightening chest refused to allow her to suck down enough air; her face contorted and twisted in pain; she stumbled and almost copsed onto the boy.

    A little ahead of them, a wooden door opened out onto the alley from the back of a low, windowless building. Arge burly figure stepped out and blocked their progress along the narrow passageway. He smiled and clinked a small leather purse in the palm of his hand.

    ¡°A very encouraging morning¡¯s work, I should say, Dak,¡± he said loudly as he turned to hispanion.

    A second figure, bald with a beard, stooped to follow him out through the door.

    The agonised blood froze in Kira¡¯s pounding chest.

    She grabbed the boy¡¯s arm and dragged at him.

    ¡°Stop!¡± she hissed as loudly as she dared. ¡°It¡¯s them! It¡¯s the vers!¡±

    She tried to edge away from the two hateful figures; her floundering body gasped for air; her heavy feet strained to halt the boy and pull him back.

    Perhaps they hadn¡¯t noticed her in the subdued light of the alley?

    Perhaps the bag of coins had been too much of a distraction to them?

    There was still a chance they could get away.

    Her wounded, drained legs stumbled and scuffled on the cobbles.

    Dak looked up from the money and peered straight ahead at her.

    ¡°¡¯Ere Boss!¡± he shouted. ¡°Ain¡¯t that<i> our </i>ve girl with that boy?¡±

    His deep, booming voice reverberated along the confined passageway.

    The dark burly features of Borwick stared up directly at her; a burning look of surprise and fury glowered behind his eyes.

    A cold spike of fear pierced through Kira¡¯s horrified stomach.

    A startled panic flooded her unravelling thoughts.

    ¡°Run!¡± she screamed.

 22. Through the Vennel

    A shock of terrified adrenaline spiked through Kira. She turned and urged her weary limbs to run. She ttered after the boy as best she could, hurtling down the dim, narrow alley.

    ¡°It¡¯s her! Grab that girl!¡±

    The ireful echo of Borwick¡¯s voice chased her menacingly; two sets of heavy footsteps thumped and hunted behind.

    The boy grabbed and yanked her into the doorway of a shop. The seeping wounds across her ankles tore and bled under the sudden unexpected trauma of this change of direction; her face contorted in pain; she stifled her cry - her rattling lungs could not afford to waste the precious oxygen. She must not be caught.

    The small cramped shop was filled with rows of bottles and y pots; the uncertain shelves wobbled precariously as she darted and wove her way after her young guide.

    The startled merchant looked up from his counter; he shed an angry fist at them.

    ¡°Oi! Mind my jars! Get out of here, yer little brats!¡±

    He stood and moved towards his precious wares, spreading his arms wide along the shelves, determined to hold back the rippling wake of chaos she had caused.

    But there was no time to apologise or be polite.

    The panic thudded through Kira¡¯s chest; her breath rushed and gasped in thick spasms.

    She raced on behind the boy; her legs trembled and teetered past the jostling crowded aisles towards the rear door.

    A thunderous smash of ss and pottery drove an insidious turbulent shudder through her - the vers were rampaging through the shop, their clumsy shattering crashes pursued her violently.

    The boy charged at the exit, shoulder first, without even pausing to try the handle.

    Kira¡¯s terrorized heart sank as the door seemed to burst out onto a dead end, hemmed in by the nk rear walls of several densely packed shops and houses.

    The splintering shards fragmented and scattered behind her; the distraught merchant screamed out profane curses; the bulky footsteps hammered closer, faster.

    The boy grabbed her gging body and dragged her through the doorway, along a flimsy, narrow gap between the cramped and crowded buildings; her legs shrieked in pain; her wounds oozed and wept; she hobbled along behind the boy as fast as she could. Her nose grazed past the damp exterior walls; the foisty smell of brick-dust and whitewash gripped her. She squeezed down the slender passageway behind the boy; her aching limbs trembled and faltered; the driving impetus of the initial escape began to wear thin; she could not keep up this pace for much longer.

    She drove herself forward and nced behind - the vers had turned their broad shoulders and shuffled along the restrictive width of the vennel sideways, relentless in their pursuit.

    Her clumsy knees caught the rough walls and gouged off several tenderyers of skin.

    ¡°I¡­ I can¡¯t!¡± she cried, sickened with the desperate frustration of her own weakness. A shallow, hopeless sweat prickled through her.

    The boy twisted his head towards her.

    ¡°Just a little further!¡± he urged.

    A fierce ringing pain bruised out from Kira¡¯s buckling legs; the threats and curses of the vers reverberated along the steep, constricting walls just behind her.

    She hobbled and stumbled; the malevolent threat of re-capture haunted her turbulent, terrified mind. Just ahead, a brighter patch of sky glowed over the dim alley; she gasped down the stale, mouldy air. The tight, subdued vennel suddenly opened into a small enclosed courtyard encircled by the rear of several buildings.

    The boy hauled her across the yard and pushed her down into arge pile of straw behind some barrels.

    ¡°Quick! Hide here!¡± he panted beneath his breath.

    He covered her in straw, then burrowed in next to her.

    A chicken squawked in a loud fury of feathers and bitterness, then ran off.

    The dry, dusty straw enveloped her.

    A goat, tethered to a rusty hook on the wall, bleated contentedly and continued munching at the straw on the ground in front of it. The sharp smell of its dung and matted fur hung thickly in the air.

    Kira copsed gratefully into the soft, stale refuge; her ankles and calves burned in pain; her fatigued breath rasped through her chest; a sinister empty despair agitated through her weary thoughts and body.

    Perhaps it would be better if they caught her?

    A swift merciful death might be preferable to the writhing agony of her legs and lungs?

    But if they did recapture her, she could be certain that her death would not be swift - or merciful.

    The heavy echoing footsteps of the vers chased towards the courtyard from the vennel.All content ? N/.?vel/Dr/ama.Org.

    Herpanion pressed his finger to his lips, but Kira¡¯s anxious stomach churned, already aware of the precarious danger they now faced. She sped her hand across her mouth to dampen the volume of her raucous lungs, and squeezed herself down, t beneath the covering straw.

    The bulky boots of the vers scrunched and halted just beyond the barrels in front of her.

    ¡°Which way now, boss?¡± Dak asked. ¡°Did you see which way they went?¡±

    ¡°No! Curse the Surrounder¡¯s dandruff! But they must be down one of these exits.¡±

    Kira clung to her frightened breath; the sharp prickles of straw dug and stung into her wounds. She bit down on her lips, determined not to cry out, but certain that the vers must hear the panicked thump resounding through her hollow chest.

    The thick, agitated gasps of the vers did not move; their boots crunched on the dirty cobbled surface.

    The goat bleated and munched.

    Kira¡¯s lungs wrenched and called urgently for some air; she fought her instincts back, certain that any moment would bring herst taste of freedom and life.

    If they searched the yard, they were sure to find her.

    Her apprehensive stomach tightened and clenched.

    The unknowing silence overwhelmed her, pinning her in ce as it dragged across a tortuous life-time.

    Chilled shivers tingled through her strained body.

    She must breath; she would suffocate like this.

    ¡°You go up there.¡± Borwick¡¯s gruff voice broke the painful tension. ¡°And I¡¯ll take this one - we¡¯ll meet back in the town centre - shout if you spy them!¡±

    Their heavy steps melted off in different directions; the chickens squabbled and clucked; the goat chomped and munched.

    Kira let out a huge gasp and sucked in a deep breath; the grateful blood returned to her relieved body.

    The boy pushed a cautious hand through the rustling straw and peered out.

    ¡°All clear - they¡¯ve gone,¡± he said. He dug himself out of their hiding ce and helped her exhausted, trembling body to sit.

    She coughed the gritty dust from her mouth and brushed the irritating straw from her face and hair.

    The blood still pounded through her ears from exertion and fear and relief.

    ¡°I can¡¯t move yet. I must rest - it¡¯s my legs¡­¡± she said.

    The boy nced down each of the exits.

    ¡°We can¡¯t stay here - they¡¯ll be back - we must move now.¡±

    He offered a helpful hand towards her.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take you to my master¡¯s house - you¡¯ll be safe there.¡±

    He was right.

    She was not out of danger yet.

    She must try to keep moving.

    Her reluctant limbs strained to get up; she crumpled back down and epted that she would need his assistance.

    His strength hauled her up; her feeble legs shivered and stumbled; she hobbled along behind the boy in silence, listening acutely for footsteps, as they moved back along the same vennel that had brought them into the yard; her nervous eyes scanned for the danger of familiar silhouettes.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I know these streets well,¡± the boy reassured her. ¡°I¡¯ll keep us to the alleys and vennels - it will be a bit further to walk, but there¡¯s less chance of bumping into your friends.¡±

    She followed closely through the wandering dim alleyways - some were cobbled, many were just dirt and puddles and mud. The maze of dense, high-sided buildings loomed in over her; she struggled to tell if it was day or night, or which direction they were travelling. The close, tight walls reminded her of the convent cloisters; her anxious shoulders rxed into ce.

    The boy often dashed a little ahead and peered around a sharp corner and check the way was clear; Kira¡¯s legs throbbed in continual torment, even at this more cautious, gentle pace; she lent on the airless, unfeeling bricks and stones for support.

    The narrow streets widened; thete afternoon sun crept down and warmed her back.

    She edged out, past a final building; the colours changed abruptly to greens and open yellows. A hedge-lined wagonne wound through the stubbled fields which stretched away before her.

    There was no sign of any cottage - how much further could it be?

    The boy looked guardedly behind them.

    ¡°We¡¯ll be exposed out in these fields,¡± he said, ¡°there won¡¯t be anything to hide behind if we¡¯re spotted, so we¡¯ll need to keep moving.¡±

    Kira winced and staggered on beside her youngpanion.

    ¡°Come on - not far now,¡± he urged.

    She plodded on a few more weary steps.

    ¡°I¡¯m Ellis, by the way,¡± said the boy.

    ¡°I¡¯m Kira,¡± she said. Her voice sounded thin and strange. She fought to gather her remaining strength and paused to face her benefactor.

    ¡°Thank you - thank you so much,¡± she said.

    ¡°That¡¯s ok. I¡¯m d I could help,¡± he smiled.

    Kira grimaced and battled to resume walking; her legs wobbled, soft and spongy beneath her; she stumbled on for a few ungainly steps, then copsed onto the grass verge.

    ¡°It¡¯s no use,¡± she said, ¡°I must rest here.¡±

    The boy looked back nervously towards the town.

    ¡°No,¡± he urged in a solemn tone. ¡°We can¡¯t risk them searching along these roads. We¡¯re not safe yet. My master¡¯s house is just at the end of thisne. We must press on until we get there. He¡¯s a kind man and a skilful healer. He will tend your wounds with far more ability than any I have.¡±

    He reached out his hand towards her.

    ¡°Here,¡± he said, ¡°put your arm around my shoulders. I¡¯ll take your weight. It¡¯s just a little further.¡±

    Kira pursed her lips and searched for some words.

    She was reluctant to rest her whole weight on him - supposing she broke him somehow!

    But he had been brave and kind to help her.

    And also, after weeks with the vers without bathing, trudging through the mud and dung of the roads, she suddenly became aware of how badly she must have smelt.

    The burning agony in her legs told her not to move.

    But she was too weak to think properly or argue about it now.

    And she knew he was right - this was indeed no ce to be caught.

    ¡°Come on, we must move,¡± herpanion insisted. ¡°We can¡¯t just stop here - they¡¯re sure to catch us.¡±

    Her limp muscles ached as she reached up reluctantly for his hand; he pulled her to her feet and positioned her arm around his neck and shoulders.

    A wave of clumsy embarrassment at her reliance on him flooded over her, but it was tempered by a relieved gratitude for his help.

    They hobbled on awkwardly together for a few paces; the throbbing pain from her depleted legs gnawed constantly at her enfeebled body.

    Her unwilling feet refused to obey her and started to drag, catching the surface of thene and causing them both to stumble and jolt off-bnce.

    Her thoughts wandered; she could no longer focus on walking; she struggled to make out the swirling, drifting road as it floated beneath her legs. Her eyes blinked and closed; their oppressive weight made them far too heavy to hold open.

    Her escape from the vers, the danger to her life; her hopes of freedom, the convent, the nuns - all seemed so distant and unimportant now.

    Her energy and movement ebbed away; her mind ceased to concentrate and drifted in directions of dreams she could not control; a swirling ckness enveloped her and dragged her, lurching, into a deep abyss, all sound and sensation gone.

 23. An Unexpected Patient

    Aldwyn spread his wrinkled hands and warmed them; he observed the sk of green liquid bubble above the me on the desk; its pungent odour filled the small cottage with deep and powerful memories. He allowed himself the pleasure of breathing it in while his mind drifted cosily into reminisces of all the times long past he had needed to prepare the root-bane potion.

    The cottage door rattled opened behind the alcove to his side.

    He was not expecting any visitors.

    His young votary must have returned from the market.

    ¡°You¡¯re back early!¡± he said, without bothering to look up from his work.

    ¡°Aldwyn quickly! She needs your help!¡±

    Ellis¡¯s voice gasped with urgency - clearly something was amiss.

    The boy carried a bedraggled, unconscious girl across his arms.

    Lack of sentience was always a bad sign.

    And even from this distance, her breathing soundedboured and irregr - but at least the patient was still self-ventting.

    He cleared a space on the low side-table; several y pots crashed to the stone floor.This belongs to N?velDrama.Org: ?.

    ¡°Get her up here quickly,¡± he instructed, ¡°then fetch fresh water from the tarn.¡±

    The boyid her down but did not leave.

    ¡°It¡¯s her legs!¡± Ellis said - his flustered face unusually red and breathless, clearly indicating his exertions in carrying the young girl.

    ¡°I can see that!¡± Aldwyn replied.

    After all these years, did the boy really think that he was so ipetent not to notice her obvious wounds?

    And why was he still fussing around the prostrate invalid instead of bringing the water?

    ¡°Don¡¯t stand there dithering, Ellis, get going!¡± he said.

    He stooped over the fragile patient; the lesions looked bad.

    The boy grabbed the buckets and dashed back out through the door.

    The deep bruising around her wrists and the open sores weeping from her ankles told their own story - and coupled with the patient¡¯s pallid malnourished frame, spoke only of leg irons and enforced marching - fierce work that the girl¡¯s soft young skin was obviously not used to suffering.

    The wounds had never been given the chance to heal properly and had festered and putrefied.

    She had lost a good deal of blood, and the toxic infections which coursed through her veins threatened to ravage and overwhelm her delirious, enfeebled body.

    A virulent fever had almost ovee her; she was clearly in a bad way.

    He reached for a pale purple bottle and poured its contents over the girl¡¯s calves; the matted blood and dirt which had congealed there washed away and gave him a clearer view of the problem.

    This would not be easy.

    First he must staunch the flow, then do what he could to remove the toxins.

    And he must work quickly.

    He closed his watery grey eyes to calm and focus his mind more clearly.

    Beneath the rise and fall of his breath, he spoke the ancient words of healing; he felt the weight of his short, stubby beard wagging in rhythm to his gentle murmurings; its roots prickled and tingled.

    He wandered down, deep into the realms of his concentration; he lifted his hands out before him and allowed the sleeves of his robe to fall back and expose his fore-arms. He continued the chanting, profound and fervent; his voice grew in volume and authority.

    Beneath the skin of his arms, the familiar wriggling desire of the intricate swirling marks and symbols began to glow with a faint iridescent blue; their brightness and intensity increased, until the light from the living, pulsing tattoos illuminated the dim interior of the cottage.

    The glimmering shapes swirled and eddied, shimmying brightly along the length of his forearms toward his hands; they broke free of his palms and melded together into a single lustrous ball of burnished living colour.

    He persisted with the steady muttering apaniment of the arcane incantation, his mind deeply anchored in realms between the seeing worlds.

    His aged, watery eyes cleared as he re-opened them; he sensed the intimate glow of their pale blue luminescence.

    He ced both hands confidently on the girl¡¯s shins, close to her injuries; the swirling ball of light glided and hovered over them, epassing the venomous wounds with its dancing, glistening pulse.

    The patient¡¯s skin began to twitch and move and live, coiling itself together, stretching and knitting across the open traumas; it flowed and fused and purged under its own animated volition, blending into one smooth closed surface; the blood had been staunched and the open wounds were sealed.

    Aldwyn continued to stare down at the girl, lost deep in his focus, never ceasing the intensity of the primeval utterances. The stern concentration distorted his features into a grimace, and the exertion and strain of his work formed a fine sweat across his furrowed brow.

    His skilful craft searched for the toxins surging through the girl¡¯s infected body and blood; the writhing azure orb throbbed and whirled and convulsed.

    For a brief dazzling instant, the pale glowing flickerings of a series of symbols red up, stark and bright, and seemed to call out to him from the depths of his absorbed meditation - a puzzling, disturbing image which threatened to rupture the rhythm of his thoughts.

    Perhaps the powerful poisons in her veins had caused some new, unforeseen reaction?

    He pushed the radiant patterns back, deep down into the folded recesses of his mind, and felt for the dark haunting signature of the corrupting toxins in the girl¡¯s blood.

    The intricate ball of blue light glistened and vibrated across the girl¡¯s body; searching, exploring; the urgent potency of his incantation increased and deepened; the sinister brooding shadow of her infections lessened and cleared, drained and emptied from her besieged body.

    He could do no more for the patient; rest was what she needed now.

    He released the girl¡¯s legs from his grip and ceased the ancient words with a deep sighing breath.

    The blue incandescent ball faded and died back into nothingness, hidden once more beneath the skin of his forearms and the focus of his thoughts.

    His eyes misted and swam and returned to their old watery grey.

    He wiped his brow and looked down at the patient; yes, a nasty business - but a job well done.

    He blinked around the room - the weak autumn sun had already retired for the evening - only the dim glow of the rush-lights and the orange of the fire now illuminated it.

    His tired frame lurched heavily across the worn stone floor; a contented ripple of relief crept along his limbs as he sank into the rough wooden armchair by the hearth.

    The door ttered open; Ellis returned, burdened with tworge buckets. As usual, the boy had over-filled them; some of their contents slopped over onto the floor as he set them down.

    ¡°Well?¡± his votary asked anxiously.

    ¡°Her blood was badly infected from her wounds, but I have purged the toxins now and her flesh has healed.¡±

    ¡°So she¡¯ll be fine?¡± the boy said.

    Hadn¡¯t he just said as much?

    Did the boy want him to write it down?

    ¡°Did we ever yet encounter a patient that I could not cure if they were brought to me in time?¡±

    The lethargy of his exertions still cloaked his weary body.

    His eyes blinked; he fought them open; the tiredness was so limiting these days, the cost so dear.

    The old wooden chair felt harder with the years of its usage - andtely the boy seemed to be questioning his authority far more than he would have liked.

    Did he suspect?

    Ellis hovered over the patient.

    ¡°Have you so little faith in me - even after all these years together?¡± he asked.

    But his votary was too busy staring over at the girl and seemed not to heed to his words.

    He foraged through the dusty fissures of his memory - he had seen young men look like that before.

    ¡°Fill the cauldron with that water and boil it,¡± he said. ¡°My old bones must rest now. We¡¯ll have soupter.¡±

    His young votary continued to nce anxiously across at the patient from time to time; the boy¡¯s feet shuffled as he went about his chores.

    More disturbance, when tranquillity was all he desired.

    ¡°Gawping at her won¡¯t help the girl!¡± he said, more brusquely than he had intended.

    His own voice and temper seemed so unnatural to him these days.

    And this sudden irritability was sometimes beyond his control.

    Perhaps it was toote?

    Perhaps his worst fears were already being realised?

    Perhaps the boy was right to question him?

    The drowsy warmth of the hearth threw out its consoling sympathy.

    The tiredness; the sapping, intriguing fatigue called to him.

    His eyes closed; the shallow rhythm of his chest sang him its luby.

    His puzzled worries and concerns drifted and ceased.

 24. A Curious Cottage

    A dull throbbing pain deep behind her eyes roused Kira from a dark and dreamless sleep.

    Her heavy limbs ached and tingled limply.

    Her scattered mind tried to focus - had she been unconscious for several days? Or just lying awkwardly in an ufortable position?

    Shey motionless and listened to the regr sound of her own breath; perhaps she was dead?

    She squinted her eyes open and allowed in a dim, bleary light.

    Her fractured thoughts puzzled - she seemed to be t on her back, lying in the warmth of a small room, staring up at a high, thatched ceiling.

    Theforting scent of wood-smoke and dried herbs reached out to greet her.

    But she did not recognise the surroundings.

    She cautiously turned her pulsing,wearied head and surveyed the cramped but cosy interior - shelves and tables, piled high with dusty jars and sks and books, braced up against the modest stained and white-washed walls; the light crackle of a contented fire filled the snug space.

    The hard smoothness of a table supported her body; across on the other side of the room, the boy who had rescued her, and an elderly man, were going about their chores with their backs to her.

    Yes, that was it - the boy who rescued her - the vers.

    Dark fragments of memory drifted back.

    Didn¡¯t the boy say they were going to his master¡¯s house?

    Probably that¡¯s where she was?

    The jumbled confusion began to consolidate and conspire towards order.

    The still tranquillity of her own repose epassed her; she peeked out through half-opened eyes and silently observed the quiet rhythms of her hosts¡¯ lives.

    A harmonious contentment seemed to drift and weave its way around them; they worked inpanionship, reaching over each other, without any of the stiff formalities of the convent. The old man hummed softly beneath his breath as he stirred a dark violet liquid; the boy fetched bottles of ingredients from a shelf and dusted down the desktop when spiges urred. He studied his master¡¯s workings carefully and diligently, then tended to the fire; his master¡¯s shoulders remained hunched over the work-table, as he issued quiet instructions, softly passing on his learnings with a gentle wisdom.

    Perhaps this was what the other girls had meant when they reminisced about home?

    Kira¡¯s legs tingled and cramped. She wiggled her toes and stretched her foot. A dull stiffness still persisted, but the stabbing, gnawing pain had gone; her wounds did not rupture or weep - they must have closed.

    A confirming nce at her wrists showed that these too had healed.

    The boy¡¯s master must be good at his work.

    Her encouraged spirits lifted - she was healed, she seemed safe - or at least she had escaped the vers. She tried to sit up, but her faint and dizzy body refused to obey; she copsed back to the bench with a clumsy thud.

    The elderly man turned to face her.

    ¡°There now - slowly, little one,¡± he said. ¡°You are safe here and your illness has passed.¡±

    The boy moved over and supported her awkwardly into the armchair near the bench.

    ¡°Thank you so much ¡­er¡­sir¡­¡± Kira replied, in a dry and brittle voice, ¡°I feel much better now.¡±

    ¡°My name is Aldwyn,¡± said the old man; he nodded towards his young assistant, ¡°and this is Ellis.¡±

    ¡°Yes, we¡¯ve already met. I¡¯m Kira.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t appear to be from around these parts,¡± the old man suggested.

    ¡°No, I was a novice in the nunnery at Corborough.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Ellis mentioned something about it to me - and that would exin your robes.¡±

    Kira looked down at the tattered, dirty mud-stained rags which hung in pieces around her. Sister Amelia Constance would fall into an apoplectic fury if she returned looking like that.

    ¡°Well, you¡¯re a long way from home,¡± said Aldwyn, ¡°and it¡¯s gettingte now. You¡¯d better stay the night here with us, then we¡¯ll sort out what to do with you in the morning.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, sir,¡± said Kira.

    Ellisughed.

    ¡°Just call him ¡®Aldwyn¡¯, not ¡®sir¡¯.¡±

    ¡°Sit there and rest for a while,¡± said Aldwyn, ¡°then when you¡¯re ready, Ellis will show you where you can get cleaned. But I must continue my work now.¡± He turned back to his desk.

    Kira wriggled her toes and rolled her ankles - her legs were still stiff, but a walk would cure that. She touched her forehead - her fever had gone; her arms were heavy and tired, but her body was calm and rxed.

    She sank into the depths of the chair and surveyed her new surroundings. A set ofdders lead up to a mezzanine floor across the rafters at one end of the room; beside her, a rough door opened through into another small chamber; the hearth glinted and med, and tucked away in the corner, by a small window, two willing chairs nestled up to a contented breakfast table.

    Ellis offered her his arm.

    ¡°The tarn is just out this way, if you feel up to a short walk now,¡± he said. ¡°And I¡¯ve got you some of my old clothes - they¡¯re clean and dry, and they¡¯ll be warmer than what you¡¯ve got on.¡±

    Kira¡¯s legs wobbled apprehensively as she stood; she lent her weight on him. They hobbled towards the door. Ellis picked up a pair of tattered boots.

    ¡°These old things still have some good walking left in them,¡± he said. ¡°They might fit too. We were saving them to give to the poor - but it looks like you could use them.¡±

    The warm blood rushed to Kira¡¯s cheeks.

    But her fatigued body did not feel up to an argument and the words she waited for did not arrive.

    Besides, she was in no position to refuse such a kind act of charity.

    She epted the gift meekly.

    Perhaps the nuns would even approve of this humility?

    #######

    Ellis left her by the edge of arge pool of fresh, clear water, secluded by the thick surrounding trees and bushes.

    The weak autumn sun had already departed behind the epassing hills; a mild chill fell across the dimndscape.

    A bracing shock of intense goosebumps told Kira not to linger too long in the water; she shivered - but the brief wash was refreshing and much needed for all that, and the walk to get there seemed to have cured the remaining stiffness in her limbs.

    Her jaw trembled as she dried herself - but she could not remember feeling so contented - not since she had eaten honeyed pikelets with Amber.

    Yes. Amber - and the convent, and the nuns.

    Did she really want to go back there?

    To return to that daily drudgery? The strictness? The scoldings? The maths lessons?

    Her fluctuating mind wavered and fragmented.

    It was the first time since she had set out in the carriage that she had even allowed herself the luxury of thinking about returning.N?velDrama.Org exclusive content.

    It did not seem very adventurous.

    Hadn¡¯t she always wanted to get away?

    To be unhampered by sets of regtions and chiming bells in the outer-world?

    But if she did not return, what else could she do?

    She had no other training or skill but to be a nun - and the Surrounder knew she was poor enough at that!

    And her experiences with the vers had taught her a great deal about the perils of the outside world.

    No matter how boring and uneventful cloistered life had seemed, at least it was safe and simple, with three square meals a day - and sometimes even with honeyed pikelets for breakfast.

    Perhaps such a tedious dullness was something to be grateful for?

    Her legs and body struggled in the awkward strangeness of the boy¡¯s trousers and tunic - but he was right - they were much warmer than her old rags.

    Obviously, wearing boy¡¯s clothing would take a little getting used to - everything seemed a bit loose and baggy, but a belt or rope around her waist would cure that.

    The ck boots were not a good fit either - perhaps she could stuff them with rags? But it was a kind gesture - and at least they would protect the soles of her tender feet against the worst extremes of the road.

    #######

    Back inside, Kira sat on the warmth of the floor rug and hugged her knees in front of the lively glow of theforting hearth; she allowed her eyes to wander around the room as her hosts continued their busy work preparing a variety of sks and potions.

    The deep aromas shifted and swirled.

    Aldwyn brushed past her to stir and agitate some of the pots which simmered above the fire. His thick robe had probably once been blue or green, but now was an indistinguishable old brown and smelt of lost scrolls and hazy smoke.

    ¡°We¡¯re just finishing now,¡± he smiled down at her. ¡°These are for our rounds tomorrow.¡±

    Arge vial of bright blue liquid bubbled subtly.

    ¡°What¡¯s that one for?¡± Kira asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s a salve for Mr Petterson,¡± Aldwyn replied.

    A thick glow of red gloop rippled and brooded.

    ¡°And this?¡± said Kira.

    ¡°This is an ointment for Mrs Tanby¡¯s children.¡±

    Arge dubious-looking pot frothed and blipped near the centre of the hearth. ckened with age, it gave off a doubtful beige smell which Kira couldn¡¯t quite ce. The nuns were fond of informing her that the best and most effective medicines often smelt and tasted the most foul - so surely this rancid old vessel must contain a very impressive remedy for some truly terrible disease?

    ¡°And what will this one cure?¡± she pointed doubtfully.

    ¡°Ah yes!¡± said Aldwyn. ¡°That is my secret and special cure for hunger.¡±

    ¡°Hunger?¡± Kira blurted out in disbelief and wonderment.

    ¡°Yes!¡± said Aldwyn, his grey eyes twinkled down at her. ¡°It¡¯s rabbit andtle stew - and we are just about to eat it for supper!¡±

    Kira politely chewed her way through the broth - it really wasn¡¯t <i>so</i> bad - especially if she held her breath while eating it - and her stomach received it gratefully.

    The evening¡¯s talk drifted toward her adventures and how exactly she had ended up with the vers.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Aldwyn concluded, ¡°we had heard the rumours that the witch attacks had intensified in the Northern Territories - but I hadn¡¯t realised things had be quite so bad as to require an intervention from the Harmonist - and we certainly knew nothing of his demise - but then, we are a little out of the way here, and news travels slowly to these parts.¡±

    ¡°And you were chosen out of all the novicee to assist at the ceremony?¡± said Ellis. ¡°That must have been a great honour. They would only take the very best students to lend their harmonies for such an important task.¡±

    The warm blood flushed through Kira¡¯s cheeks.

    ¡°Erm¡­well¡­I¡¯m not really <i>that</i> good¡­¡± Kira began.

    ¡°There¡¯s no need to be so modest,¡± said Aldwyn.

    ¡°Well, no,¡± Kira said, ¡°it¡¯s just that they were a bit short of numbers so they took me¡­ to be honest, I¡¯m not sure the Prima Sister would wee my return - she always said she¡¯d be d to see the back of me - but I don¡¯t know what else I can do, except go back to them - at least it¡¯s safe there.¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Ellis said, ¡°I was just thinking Aldwyn - what with all these vers and witches about - shouldn¡¯t we escort Kira back to the convent?¡±

    Aldwyn shifted his position and rubbed his chin.

    ¡°Well, unfortunately, our rounds tomorrow are in the opposite direction to the road for Corborough.¡±

    ¡°But look at what happened to Kira with the vers,¡± Ellis persisted. ¡°I think we have a duty to help her get home - the nuns will be worried about her.¡±

    Kira¡¯s thoughts stung and cascaded; she was quite certain that the nuns would not miss her in the least - but she kept her own counsel.

    ¡°These Church types are seldom so kind or pious as they may seem,¡± said Aldwyn. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t allow yourself to be fooled by outward appearances. Have I taught you nothing over all these years?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I know¡­ but I just thought¡­¡± Ellis started.

    ¡°I am well aware of what you just thought,¡± Aldwyn cut him off abruptly. ¡°But the Church can itself be a far more dangerous ce than out here in themon world.¡±

    A keen prickle of embarrassed silence descended across the room.

    ¡°Besides,¡± Aldwyn continued in a far softer tone, ¡°we have an appointment with the widow Johnstone¡¯s bunions, which lies in quite the opposite direction - and you know how she gets if we arete.¡±

    ¡°Please,¡± said Kira, ¡°I really don¡¯t want to be any trouble.¡±

    ¡°Well perhaps Kira could stay and recover here a few days until our rounds do take us in the right direction?¡± Ellis said.

    Aldwyn let out a deep sigh.

    ¡°Well, we¡¯ll have to see - but these matters won¡¯t resolve themselves now. Things usually seem clearer in the morning. Let us retire to our beds. Ellis, show our guest to her ce - but now, my tired old bones really must get some sleep.¡±

    Aldwyn shuffled through the door and disappeared into the small side chamber.

    Ellisid a thin straw mattress down in afortable spot near the warmth of the radiating hearth. He tended the fire, then blew out the rushlights; his pattering footsteps climbed thedder to the mezzanine; his bedding rustled and settled.

    Kira nestled into the snug wee of a nket for the first time she could remember; her eyes drooped in the cid darkness; her thoughts drifted - the convent, and Amber, and her return; the cosy caress of sleep lulled over her.

 25. The Lone Calf Inn

    Borwick mmed his fist down on the tavern table; the dazed jugs of ale bounced up in shock.

    ¡°A pox on your simple-oaf-mind! You worthless dolt!¡± he scowled at Pocket.

    His disparaging tones were almost lost against the heady background din of the other revellers who crammed onto the low hewn stools and benches of The Lone Calf Inn.

    Around him, the wooden floor creaked and groaned in a futile protest under the weight of its jovial customers; they chattered andughed with an irritating volume, about the sess of their busy day in the market.

    The tantalising smell of hog - roasting over the well-salted fire - rejoiced in every corner the room; but its sulent bubbling juices and moist seasoned meat had tasted nd and insipid in his irate mouth.

    Even the tavern¡¯s fine ales, which usually danced merrily on the tongue and were renowned throughout all the southern counties, seemed stale and bitter.

    His nerves grated further as the rosy-cheeked fiddle yer in the corner struck out a lively tune. The merry revellers around him squealed with delight as they linked arms and jigged to its discordant, screeching melody.

    Even the lively fire which danced in the hearth seemed intent on joining in with the fun. But its hearty wee did little to invigorate or warm away the dank gloom of autumn.

    It had not been an encouraging day¡¯s work - and this tavern had definitely gone down-hill sincest he was there.

    ¡°I should skin you for your worthless efforts!¡± continued Borwick.

    Pocket whitened and looked away, suitably cowed and quiet.

    Borwick stared and waited, daring the fool to answer back.

    But if Pocket was useless, he still knew who was in charge.

    He had doled out plenty of bruises across his ugly, stupid, grinning face before now - and was more than ready to do so again.

    ves, women and dogs were not the only things which needed to be kept in line with a good beating.

    Shame the simpleton only had the one nose to break.

    ¡°That dammed girl!¡± Borwick barked. ¡°She¡¯s cost us dear! If I ever get my hands on her again - the Surrounder himself wouldn¡¯t be able to put the pieces back together.¡±

    Hispanions all seemed determined to avoid his eye; they stared down hard at the table and the floor.

    Cowards!

    He gulped down another tasteless swig of ale.

    ¡°At least we managed to get most of the others back, boss,¡± Dak said.

    ¡°And the horses - don¡¯t forget about them,¡± Pocket added.

    ¡°The ones we recaptured were all so weak and worthless, even you two dolts couldn¡¯t mess that up!¡± Borwick glowered.

    He drained thest of his jug and mmed it down on the table.

    ¡°And they¡¯ll hardly bring in any profit at the port - this whole trip has been a wasted journey!¡±

    Why had he been cursed to work with such ipetent fools?

    Even the ale could not blind him to their worthless failings.

    This had not been an encouraging day.

    Perhaps another drink would help ease his troubles?

    And far better to drink at the bar than sit here with these useless idiots and be constantly reminded of their miserable bungling.

    He rose abruptly and forced a path through the bothersome crowd to the bar.

    All this jollity was giving him a headache.

    He stood next to a snub-nosed little man with balding grey hair.

    The stranger smiled up at him; his bleary eyes twinkled above podgy, rosy cheeks.

    The stranger swayed gently and held onto the bar for support, getting as close to it as his rotund belly would allow.

    ¡°I see your luck be not so good today, master ver,¡± he said.

    ¡°Luck be damned¡­¡± Borwick replied.Content provided by N?velDrama.Org.

    ¡°Yes! I see¡¯d your fun and games in the market-square this afternoon. Tis the talk of the town! Ho ho! We all didugh!¡±

    ¡°There ain¡¯t a-nothing to be aughing at - and if I ever catch them that did this to me, I¡¯ll y them alive and then boil them in salted tar, as a lesson to any others who may think of interfering in my business.¡±

    ¡°Easy now, master ver,¡± said the stranger, ¡°no offence intended. It¡¯s just my little bit of fun.¡±

    He took a swig from his jar and smiled back up.

    ¡°So you¡¯d be keen to find those that set your ves all a-loose then, master ver?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d be keen alright, may the Surrounder help them¡­¡±

    ¡°So d¡¯you think there might be something a-like a reward, for those who could be of help to you, master ver?¡± the podgy stranger asked.

    He stared down longingly at the hollow dregs of his ale and rolled them lovingly around his jug.

    ¡°I means, perhaps a coin or two maye their way - if they was to help you with directions and such like?¡±

    Borwick knew this game.

    He felt for a coin in his purse and pped it down on the bar halfway between himself and his newpanion.

    ¡°Did you see who it was? The boy who helped the girl get away?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Yes, I did see the whole thing clearly,¡± the pot-bellied man replied, barely lifting his eyes from the glint of the silver next to him. ¡°I see¡¯d who did it - but now, let me see - what exactly was his name now? Hmmm, just let me think a minute¡­¡±

    Borwick felt in his purse for a second coin and ced it next to the first.

    ¡°Where have I seen him before again?¡± the stranger continued. ¡°Hmm, it¡¯s so hard remembering all these details on a dry throat, friend - you understand how it can be, don¡¯t you?¡±

    A bubbling welt of anger began to bruise across Borwick¡¯s desire for revenge.

    But this was at least something to bite on - a chance perhaps to find that wretched girl.

    He needed this information; he had better keep his temper in check - for now, at least.

    But if it should turn out that this small-town drunkard should dare to y him for a fool¡­

    He pped another coin down on the bar next to the others.

    ¡°Yes, I seem to recall now,¡± said the stranger, ¡°wasn¡¯t it the Healer¡¯s youngd? Yes, that was him, surely as I¡¯m here before you.¡±

    The Healer¡¯sd?

    That seemed to marry up with the story that Pocket had given him - clearly things were moving in the right direction.

    ¡°And where will I find this ¡­ Healer?¡±

    ¡°Hmm well now, let me see.¡± The stranger stared down at his empty jar. ¡°Was it the one way, or was it t¡¯other? This throat of mine feels so parched. How can a man think of things like a road with such a cursed throat as this, master ver?¡±

    Borwick tried to stop the furious blood from reddening his face.

    The prize was almost in his grasp.

    He would teach that girl a lesson all right¡­

    He could not give up now.

    Surely things were about to be much more encouraging.

    If he could just stand thepany of this sodden fool a little longer¡­

    He snorted and flexed his shoulders in an effort to rx them.

    He produced a fourth coin and added it to the pile.

    ¡°Ah yes, I remembers the way now,¡± the stranger smiled. ¡°Back through the market-square and out along the north road - a ways along there should see you get to where you need to be - a small white stone cottage yon side of the tarn, I seem to recall.¡±

    The stranger¡¯s eyes had scarcely blinked away from the gleam of the coins. He licked his thick lips and stretched out a podgy hand to take them.

    Borwick banged his palm down hard and fast over the pile of money.

    The stranger jerked his hand back in shocked surprise.

    ¡°Your information had better be right,¡± Borwick growled, ¡°or I¡¯ll be back to pay you another visit, my fat friend.¡±

    He released the money and jostled back through the drinkers towards hispanions.

 26. A Restless Night

    Aldwyn¡¯s restless thoughts swirled and frayed and refused thefort of his bed; they churned and tumbled ceaselessly through his mind and ignored the sce of his warm nkets, and the softness of the mattress, and the stillness, and the quiet of his room at the back of the cottage.

    A troubled image red up and lodged itself somewhere deep within the recesses of his solicitous intellect; it would not make way for sleep to enter, but he could not bring it out into the light; he could not grasp it as it wriggled, a slippery fish in the turbulent waters of his memory.

    Long ago, his mind had been sharp and focused, but the stic infallibility of youth had dimmed and be rigid, and the years of wielding the magik had taken their toll.

    He was no longer the proud young man of those far-off days: but much had changed since then - much had changed indeed - many lessons had been learnt, and then trampled and forgotten once again.

    Besides, he had been working with powdered bane-root all day, and its pungent aroma always left him feeling befuddled and light-headed.

    Now he would need time to assemble his jumbled thoughts.

    But what was the use of pretending this?

    Even to himself?

    He felt it advancing - the curse he had dreaded all these years - the true cost of living in the flux of the magik; and, as Summer had passed into Autumn, his acute mind had noticed it even more keenly.

    Themon folk called it ¡°star-taint¡±.

    He had scoffed at such things in his indestructible youth - but now the sands had shifted, and he was no longer certain.

    How could he tell the boy?

    A kindly soul - a caring young man.

    His powers were increasing.

    If his life had been different - if it had granted him a son¡­

    Perhaps the boy already suspected?

    He had be less obedient and more inclined to argue these days.

    Perhaps he was just growing up and realising his independence?

    Or had he noticed his master¡¯s trembling fingers?

    The spiges of powders?

    How his temper sometimes snapped and was less sanguine than before?

    He would lose all respect for his old master.

    And if word got around of the star-taint, he might even lose his lively-hood.

    How then would he feed himself?

    And then the girl.

    He had seen the way his votary looked at her.

    If he left to go with her, what then?

    How would he manage on his own?All content ? N/.?vel/Dr/ama.Org.

    Left senile and withered, without a means to support himself?

    But did he really want to deprive the boy of his chance at life - at true happiness?

    A happiness which had eluded him all these years?

    Didn¡¯t true friendship and love deserve to be repaid with kindness?

    The boy had learned so much and had made such great strides - he would still need further lessons - but his talent was undeniable.

    Yes, the girl.

    The image.

    A strange configuration of symbols which nagged and gnawed at him.

    But it was lost now - lost within the sadness of the furrows which age had etched across his brow.

    If only he could think of it.

    If only he could remember.

    A sour and bitter taste.

    Perhaps ¡°The Canon of Rune and Emblem¡± might contain a helpful reference?

    He could get up and look - research while the others slept?

    But the nights were getting chilly again, and the warmth of his nkets clung to him, reluctant to let him leave.

    His mind raced and wrestled with his irritated thoughts.

    No - there was little prospect of sleep tonight.

    He sighed, and got up, and resigned himself to a watchful fate.

    No need to waste a good rush-light - besides, he always thought better in the dark.

    His feet padded and paced across the stone floor of his chamber, but his thoughts refused to gather in one useful ce.

    Against the softness of the night, a sharp snap disturbed him from just outside the cottage.

    A restless wind which, like him, could not sleep and was ying with the trees?

    But there was none tonight.

    A fox on the prowl?

    Or a deer hiding from a wolf?

    No, it was too heavy for that.

    His ears strained above the rushing stillness of the dark.

    There it was again - and the muffle of hushed voices.

    His patients were unlikely to be creeping about at this time of the night - and in any case, they would have simplye directly to his front door and knocked.

    His ageing bones creaked as he eased himself through to the main room of the cottage.

    No need to wake his youngpanions and spoil their rest with his foolish suspicions.

    The soft orange glow of the hearth flickered across the room and illuminated his path.

    He crept towards the front door and peered through the small side-window, out into the depths of Autumn¡¯s ckness.

 27. Unwelcome Guests

    Aldwyn strained and adjusted his bleary eyes to the darkness through the window; he really must get the boy to clean them properly - it was almost impossible to make anything out through the grimy ss.

    Probably the noises were nothing - just the careless fancy of his elderly imagination.N?velDrama.Org exclusive content.

    He rubbed at the pane with his sleeve and lent his nose in close.

    A huge splintering crash shattered the calm night silence; the cottage shook to its foundations; Aldwyn jumped back in startled terror; the front door smashed into the room, clear off its hinges, narrowly missing his shoulder; it mmed to the floor, scattering debris and noise across the darkened space.

    His shocked breath jolted; his tired thoughts scrambled and whirled; arge burly man stormed into the cottage and shoved him violently in the chest; he was propelled across the room and pinned to the far wall, next to the mezzaninedders; a rough pressure on his chest held him fast; the steel of a long dagger glinted cold and menacing in the pale glow of the hearth¡¯s embers; its ugly aggression pressed deep into the vulnerable folds of his throat.

    A second man ttered in through the vacant doorway; a nightmp dazzled out from his hand; he was shorter and thinner than the first, but his hostile attitude was just as vicious and threatening.

    He scoured themp around the room and dashed over to the girl; he sped a sturdy hand tightly around her throat and wrestled her to her feet; she choked and gargled and fought to breathe.

    She was his guest - he must help her.

    He tried to push back against his assant; the shrill point of the knife paralysed his resistance.

    The man leant in closer; his breath stank of cheap ale; a red scar twitched down the side of his face.

    ¡°This girl is mine, see?¡± he snarled. ¡°And I¡¯m a-taking her back, understand?¡±

    The adrenaline thudded through Aldwyn¡¯s ears; the abrasive weight of his attacker¡¯s strength wedged his drowsy, confused, terrified senses hard to the wall; the vivid gleaming de taunted his pounding flesh.

    The burly intruder scanned the room.

    ¡°Now - where¡¯s that young boy of yours? There¡¯s a lesson I need to be a-teaching him too!¡±

    Aldwyn forced his traumatised eyes to stare nkly ahead; he must not nce up; he must not betray his young votary¡¯s sleeping ce. Surely all this racket had woken the boy by now? But then sometimes thed could sleep on through the loudest cock-crow.

    A pottery water jug hurtled down and smashed into his attacker¡¯s head. Fragments of yware scattered in all directions; the burly man slumped to his knees and copsed unconscious to the floor without even the chance to utter a surprised cry.

    The second man spun round and red up at the boy.

    ¡°You again, you worthless little runt!¡± he shouted.

    The sharp threat of the de was gone from his throat; this was his chance to help the girl; he started towards the thin intruder.

    The girl wriggled and grasped arge earthenware pot from the worktable; she swung it hard at the man¡¯s head. Aldwyn winced and tried to look away; the jug thudded squarely against the intruder¡¯s skull; he crumpled to an ungainly heap, across the empty doorway; the dark blood trickled and pooled next to him.

    Hismp crashed to the floor and rolled under the table; the room suddenly plunged into the dim ckness of night.

    Were his friends unharmed?

    Did they need treatment?

    Should they run?

    Aldwyn opened his mouth, but before the words hade, a third huge bulking mass of muscle charged into the cottage.

    ¡°Boss! Boss! What¡¯s going¡­¡± he shouted, as he careered into the dark confusion of the room.

    Aldwyn span around; his palpitating senses urged him to confront this new danger; therge man tripped and stumbled over his thin colleague; his weight and momentum dragged him forward; he tumbled to a juddering halt and thumped his forehead off the edge of the table.

    The huge man groaned and staggered back to his feet; he clutched at his head.

    Aldwyn dashed at him and kicked the intruder¡¯s hindquarters as hard as his old bones would allow; the muscled man lurched across the room and tripped on the hearthstone; he thudded down, face first, into the glowing embers of the fire.

    His howling screams rent the air in two; the cottage filled with the acrid stench of his melting beard. He stood bolt upright and wed desperately at his cheeks; he stumbled and charged back out through the gap where the front door had been.

    Aldwyn dashed to the doorway.

    Perhaps there were more ruffians out there?

    His eyes strained in the darkness; they traced therge man staggering in the direction of the tarn, but he could see no sign of any others.

    The busy adrenaline still thudded through his ears.

    ¡°Is that thest of them?¡± he asked the girl.

    ¡°Yes - there were just the three of them,¡± she replied.

    Ellis climbed down from his bed.

    ¡°Quickly then!¡± Aldwyn urged. ¡°Get dressed and grab some food! These two won¡¯t be out for long. We can¡¯t stay here now - they know where we live - best make ourselves scarce for a while.¡±

    He rushed to dress himself; his shocked, anxious fingers trembled and struggled with the fastenings.

    The youngsters bustled around the room.

    ¡°Ready then?¡± Ellis asked.

    They hurried out through the gap which had once been the front door.

    The damp chill of the autumn night wrapped itself around his weary bones; he should not be flitting in the dark at his age.

    He shuddered and turned to look at his cottage.

    It had been a good home to him.

    A nagging regretful doubt gnawed deep in his belly - would he ever see its cosy interior again?

    He had just got the room how he liked it.

    Bah! The advancing years had made a sentimental fool of him.

    ¡°Quickly!¡± he urged in a low voice. ¡°We¡¯ll head up through the woods - there¡¯s no path that way, so they won¡¯t be able to track us so easily.¡±

    His reluctant feet trudged north.

    The dismal uncertainties of the cold, muddy night nipped at his thoughts.

    Hadn¡¯t he got out of bed to do something?

    Wasn¡¯t there a book he wanted to read?

    All this unwee excitement - how was he expected to remember anything?

    No doubt it woulde back to his mind again, if it was really that important.

 28. The Unbounded, Undying Compassionate Sympathy of Sister Amelia Constance

    The determined echoes of Sister Amelia Constance¡¯s footsteps bounded along the dim corridors of the convent.

    They beat in time to the sombre tones of the great Passing Bell, which had been ringing out its mournful code all morning.

    The news about the witch attack couldn¡¯t havee at a more inconvenient time - didn¡¯t she already have enough to do without chasing afterzy young novice lying ill in their beds?This belongs to N?velDrama.Org: ?.

    At least she had managed a brief breakfast.

    But honestly! Why should it be the responsibility of the Prima Sister?

    Couldn¡¯t one of the other nuns perform this duty?

    What was this worlding to when a humble and uining Sister Superior, like her, couldn¡¯t go about with her own business without such unwee distractions?

    And how typical of that girl Kira to go missing!

    Only ever thinking of herself, that one.

    Leaving the rest of them with no peace - not knowing what to think - if the girl were alive or dead - the selfish little madam - giving them all such a scare.

    She had always been such an inconsiderate child!

    Hadn¡¯t she always known that such a wretched nuisance woulde to no good?

    And the Surrounder had given her enough good sense to always be right about these things.

    At least the other novicee had the decency to be properly dead.

    They would cause no further worries - everyone knew for certain that they were now safely reposing in the arms of the Great Surrounder.

    But not that girl Kira!

    She had insisted on going missing - probably in order to deliberately cause as much fuss and difficulty as possible.

    Hadn¡¯t she had her marked down from a very early age as a problematic troublemaker?

    It was a shame that honest sisters, like herself, had to endure the likes of such a girl, in order to prove themselves all the more worthy of the Surrounder¡¯s great blessings.

    Her tongue tutted a constant barrage of scorn as her boots cked impatiently along the cloister.

    She approached Amber¡¯s door, pushed it open, and bustled into the gloomy room.

    ¡°I have some bad news,¡± she announced abruptly, ¡°there was an attack on the Ceremony at the Grove, and ¡­¡±

    She red at the bed.

    The sick novice did not appear to be there.

    Her sharpened eyes scanned the rest of the small chamber - but it was also unupied.

    Her full bulk bristled as she advanced towards the bed and threw back the covers.

    No, the child was definitely not where she ought to have been.

    Her gimlet eyes shed around the room again.

    But if the girl was not there, then where, in the Surrounder¡¯s good name, could she be?

    Perhaps the girl was feeling better and had snuck off to try and pilfer some food from the refectory?

    Well, there would be no stealing taking ce while<i> she</i> was in charge.

    That was the trouble with young girls these days - they simply could not be relied upon to remain in their rightful ces.

    And if it were truly part of the Surrounder¡¯s divine n to go shifting ungrateful novicee about the ce, surely the least he could do would be to consult her, his most humble and obedient servant, on the matter first.

    What was needed was to instil more disciple into these selfish wretches - and she had more than a few good ideas about how to set about that task.

    That would stop these little miscreants from thinking that the world revolved around them.

    ¡°Woe betide that girl when I catch up with her!¡± Sister Amelia snorted to herself, and she stomped off to locate the errant postnt.

 29. The Fragrant Taste of Roasted Goat

    Ilgar chewed on the fragrant saffron-roasted goat. The tender meat dissolved to an unctuous voursome mouthful.

    The soft cushions of the throne supported his weight regally - far better than the hard saddle of a camel or a horse.

    He swallowed and reached for the dark wine.

    He could certainly be ustomed to such a life.

    No more bitter half-rations, stolen on the march; no more bothersomeints of weary troops questioning when the next mouthful of water woulde.

    Just give the orders and it is done.

    ¡°But are you sure this is wise, Lord?¡± Eram asked. ¡°We were told to keep him alive, and you yourself pointed out how useful he may yet prove to be.¡±All content ? N/.?vel/Dr/ama.Org.

    ¡°I am the King of thisnd now - the right is mine by conquest - I will rule as I see fit, I will not be dictated to by a mere outsider.¡±

    The soft sweet wine warmed his throat; he flexed the cated muscles of his arms and chest.

    ¡°His death could prove troublesome to us,¡± Eram continued doubtfully. ¡°It would look suspicious and could still be used to spark a rebellion by the tribes in the west - some of them still hold deep grievances against you.¡±

    ¡°I am aware of my great poprity across our most blessed and favourednd, my old friend!¡± Ilgarughed. ¡°I am no fool! We will not do it openly - make contact with the Fraternity of Assassins - tell them to send their best - and make sure that it cannot be traced back to us.¡±

    The warm evening air wafted the heady, drowsy curls of incense across the tent - even the gods whomanded the movement of the great dunes seemed to smile on his decision.

    ¡°If need be, we can me the Diderio tribes. Everyone knows of their hatred for the Izani. But see that the assassin removes his headpletely.¡±

    ¡°You believe the tales of the magikants, lord?¡±

    ¡°I do not fear the night-stories of frightened children - but it would be unwise if we did not make sure the job was done properly - and with his head removed, even a magikant can not rise to trouble us again. Besides, the whimpering puppy does not deserve the glory of a true Izani death - our steel would be wasted on his scrawny flesh.¡±

    ¡°And his remains, my lord?¡±

    ¡°Lose them somewhere in the desert - let the hungry jackals feed on thest of his blood-line and the scorpions pick his bones white.¡±

    ¡°And if the outsider makes enquiries about him?¡±

    ¡°Tell them he is travelling to visit his cousin in the oasis at Pharmud: tell them he is dead: it matters little - they are too far away to ever bother us - and besides, thest of the gold was delivered this morning - the outsiders and the young prince have already outlived their purpose.¡±

    Ilgar lent back into the billowing cushions; the servants carried in an ornate trayden with rich spiced meats and dried golden fruits.

    His powerful frame rxed, contented.

    The conquest wasplete.

    His troubles were over.

    ¡°More wine!¡± he shouted.

 30. The Ironway Pass

    Kira¡¯s legs ached as she scrambled up the rough uneven slope of the mountainside; the bright chilly air tickled through her lungs. It had been hard going thesest two days, but they could not be certain how determined the vers would be in their vengeful desire to re-capture her - especially after the injuries they had sustained. Her nose wrinkled with the acrid memory of Dak¡¯s melting beard; his painful cries still echoed through her ears; she shuddered and mbered upwards.

    Ellis¡¯s old boots pped and rubbed at her ankles; she could have done with a bit more padding - but at least they protected her feet; his tunic too had started to feel steadily morefortable.

    The dense woond trees of the lower foothills had thinned out and now only an asional isted shrub or bush poked out on the exposed rocky surface. Just ahead of her, even this sparse vegetation disappeared, as the ground was littered with a thick grey slithering of loose shale which tumbled and cascaded down the incline of the mountain and formed a barren strip of shifting terrain.

    Beyond this, two weather-rounded pirs of sturdy rock marked the entrance to the Ironway Pass - a narrow-looking shelf of stone which clung precariously to the sheer side of the tallest mountain of an imposing range.

    An impatient East Wind battered their sparkling fractured peaks, swirling and dashing the snowden clouds hard into their bleak summits.

    Aldwyn had informed her that the Pass would lead them directly over the mountains, back towards her convent - but snow covered these daunting peaks even through the summer, so they would skirt around instead.

    Kira rubbed her arms; her shivering goosebumps were d that they weren¡¯t about to face such an intimidating challenge.

    A small depression nestled into the mountain incline, halfway up the barren strip of shale; its cradling hollow offered shelter from the thin wind.

    ¡°We should stop here and rest for a while,¡± said Aldwyn.

    ¡°We might as well eat while we¡¯re here,¡± Ellis suggested.

    ¡°Very well - but once we¡¯ve got our bearings and recovered, we must push on before night - this is no ce to be caught by the vers or the weather - there¡¯s no natural cover or trees to hide in.¡±

    Kira¡¯s grateful limbs savoured the relief of sitting. The brittle t kes of grey shale rattled and crunched beneath her weight, but made afortable enough seat. She rubbed her calves and flexed her toes deep inside her boots.

    ¡°Are you sure we couldn¡¯t risk just going straight on over the Pass?¡± Ellis asked. ¡°I mean, it would be much quicker than skirting around the mountain - we could get to Kira¡¯s convent in a few days.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Aldwyn replied. ¡°We must avoid the mountains at this time of year - the winter storms will soon be upon us and we must not get caught exposed on those treacherous cliffs in bad weather. As you know, the widow Johnstone¡¯s bunions have been ying up recently, which is a sure sign that we¡¯re in for some turbulent conditions. Besides, over the years, I¡¯ve heard many strange rumours concerning those mountains, and my old bones are in no mood to take risks.¡±

    Kira¡¯s curiosity shifted and bubbled.

    ¡°Oh? What sort of rumours?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Probably nothing. Tavern gossip about unexined disappearances - you know how these people like to exaggerate to make themselves seem brave and well-travelled. But it¡¯s probably best not to put such stories to the test. We will turn west from here and skirt around the mountains - the way is a little longer, but that will be our safest and easiest option - and then, once we¡¯re around the range, it will be all downhill towards Burisdon - from there we can take the road for Corborough.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps we could risk a fire to warm ourselves and cook?¡± said Ellis. ¡°There¡¯s been no sign of the vers following ustely - they must have given up by now.¡±

    ¡°Oh yes!¡± said Kira. ¡°It would be so nice to thaw out a little - I¡¯m sure the vers have given up by now.¡±

    ¡°Very well - but just a small one,¡± said Aldwyn, ¡°and make sure the wood is dry to keep the smoke to a minimum. If they are following us, we don¡¯t want to give our position away.¡±N?velDrama.Org exclusive content.

    Ellis busied himself with a few sparse scattered twigs, and soon Kira¡¯s fingers stretched and delighted in the dancing warmth of a fire.

    The rest was certainly a wee one - her legs had noticed the steady uphill exertion. She had hoped all this walking would end when she escaped the vers - but this was altogether different - true, it was tiring, but she had food and was in goodpany - some of the views had been dramatic and memorable - much more the type of thing she had imagined stuck back in the boredom of the dim cloisters.

    She gazed back down at the view of the valley they had just ascended: the forested slopes tumbled away below them; the trees stood resplendent in the finery of their autumn colours - dazzling shades of red and orange and yellow; the prominent deep greens of the firs and pines in stark contrast to the bright glory of their neighbours.

    A weak golden sun illuminated thendscape - its purity had already gently warmed the loose torrents of grey shale that she sat on - and the glorious scene was all the more satisfying with the warming knowledge that she had conquered it.

    Her rxed shoulders fell back into ce; she breathed deeply; a serene sense of profound joy dissolved through her. And then a muted ripple of disturbance - until that very moment, she had not really known what it was to simply be alive. To sit and have time for reflection.

    How could she have guessed - even in the vivid depths of her imagination - that such scenes and emotions as this had awaited her beyond the high convent walls?

    Yes, those walls.

    The daily routines and lessons - they had surrounded and enfolded her; they had kept her safe from any harm, but had cut her off from the exhration of the outer-world - and perhaps cut her off from exploring her own true self.

    Perhaps that was even what the exacting regime was designed to do?

    To suppress and inhibit self-reflection, not just to prevent the demons of idleness from visiting?

    An itching irritation had briefly rinsed through her when Aldwyn mentioned Corborough.

    Was she certain she wanted to return to there?

    And if she did, what then?

    A strict, regted life of chores and lessons and the dictatorship of the daily bells?

    To live out all her days behind those restricting boundaries?

    To feel herself age and transform into something she was not?

    To lose the joys of her imagination and be grey and wrinkled like Sister Ioria?

    Or even worse - to be like Sister Amelia Constance?

    It was cold there on the exposed mountainside - but it was an honest cold - not the damp insidious lonely chill trapped inside the stone walls of her chamber.

    But outside the convent, how could she earn a living and get food?

    She had no trade - perhaps reading a little - but the outer-world was filled with such uncertainty, dangers seemed to lurk behind its boundless beauty and intrigue.

    Perhaps there was something to be said for prayers and lessons and three meals a day?

    Her annoying contradictory doubts swirled and resonated and anguished.

    The loose shale rattled as Aldwyn shuffled and stood.

    ¡°Well, we can¡¯t stay here all day - we need to press on now and find somewhere less exposed to spend the night.¡±

    Kira levered her weary limbs up and dusted herself; the brittle fragments of stone crunched and gave way unevenly beneath her wobbling feet.

    Ellis peered back down the slope towards the shrubs which straggled out beyond the shale-line.

    ¡°Wait! What was that?¡± he said. ¡°There it is again. Just over by that bush.¡±

    Kira strained her eyes in the direction Ellis had indicated.

    The vegetation shook and rustled faintly.

    Perhaps it was just a yful wind? Especially this high up.

    A low growling sound apanied the movement.

    Kira¡¯s stomach gripped with a nervous unease.

    Could the vers have tracked them with dogs?

    A ck nose and grey muzzle poked out through the leaves, above a pair of piercing eyes.

    Arge wolf emerged from its hiding ce; it sniffed the air and eyed them; a pink tongue hung from its powerful jaws.

    A surge of anxious goosebumps prickled along Kira¡¯s skin.

    The wolf lifted its head and howled a intive visceral cry, splintering the peaceful stillness of the mountainside. Several more snarling shadowy outlines revealed themselves from the bushes below.

    Kira held her breath; dissonant fingers of dread crept and wriggled across her body.

    ¡°Quickly!¡± said Aldwyn. ¡°Along the mountain path! It¡¯s our only chance!¡±

    The shale rippled and ttered down in the wake of Aldwyn¡¯s scrambling feet.

    Ellis sprung up and kicked the fire in the direction of the wolves, scattering a semi-circr barrier of ash and ember and smoke.

    Kira¡¯s fearful heart thudded as she scrabbled up the ridge behind Aldwyn; the rivulets of grey stone crumbled and cascaded away beneath her pounding terrified steps.

    She nced back; the wolves had broken their cover and were bounding up the incline after them; their powerful hardened paws seemed better adapted to sprinting up the unstable currents of gravel than her own legs; they howled a menacing pursuit; a sinister terror red through her shivering body; she faced forward and ran for her very life.

    The pulse and rattle of Ellis¡¯s steps was rapidly catching up with her; her anxious eyes turned back to check for him. Several of the smaller wolves had paused nervously at the glowing fire embers, but therger and hungrier ones simply leapt over the smouldering deterrent and were already devouring the ground between them and their prey; thick plumes of vapour billowed out from their panting, ravenous mouths.

    But she must focus - she must run and not be tempted to look back.

    Aldwyn was clear of the sliding, cascading shale; he charged past the two pirs and dashed along the narrow mountainside pathway.

    Kira had no time to wonder at his surprising mobility; her own legs thumped deeper into the slope and drove her up towards the steep slender route.

    She shed past the pirs; the ground to her right fell away to an empty gaping ravine; its perilous deathly gravity drew the focus of her curious eyes; her stomach churned; her fraught dizzy mind reeled; She must not look down - she dare not; she forced her sprinting feet as far to the left of the path as they would go; she must focus and run - and not look back or to the side; a dark anxiety closed in over her; the cold air stung into her thick, gasping lungs; her feet clunked and jolted on the rocky path; above the roaring panic of her own heart, Ellis¡¯s boots pounded not far behind.

    A surge of terrified adrenaline pushed her onward; the chilling howl of the wolf pack loped ever closer; her haunted scrambling thoughts repulsed with images of a horrible mauling death.

    She charged on; the cold stone pathway grew narrower and steeper, its cracked grey fissures searched upward, through the craggy rocks to her left.

    Aldwyn began to slow; her own legs struggled to sustain the punishing pace; the hungry wolves snarled and yelped their terrible threats.

    The thudding pulse of Ellis¡¯s footsteps reverberated behind.

    She must focus, she must run.

    Beyond Aldwyn, the path seemed to constrict even more dramatically; severalrge rocks littered the route; a rockfall must have crashed down and carved off a further slice of the path¡¯s slender width.

    Aldwyn charged over the narrowed section; it cracked and crumbled beneath his heavy strides.

    A savage canine death pursued her from behind; she pounded onwards; the weakened path splintered and fell away beneath her; her skin erupted in nauseous terror; the copsing gravity tried to grab her; her stomach churned and convulsed; she screamed and made a desperate lunge forward; she scrabbled across the empty air and prayed that somehow her feet wouldnd on solid ground; her breath locked tight, paralysed within her; an infinite time seemed never to start; only the lonely thump of her heart told her she was still alive.

    She crashed forward into Aldwyn in a bruising tangled heap of limbs; the wind crushed out of her aching ribs in the sprawling mess.

    Her horrified mind raced and panicked.

    Was she still alive?

    Or falling to her death?

    Or already dead?

    The cold hardness of stone digging into her elbow; the scratches and scrapes to her traumatised body; Aldwyn¡¯s bony knee pressing into her back, shocked her into the realisation that she had made it to the solid rock beyond the dissolving pathway. She was still alive.

    She jerked her head around.

    The remnants of the mountain footpath thundered down and vanished into the distant valley below; a hungry gaping chasm yawned wide, just a hand-span away from her grateful shoulders, where the path had once been.

    The pounding footsteps of Ellis thudded closer; he sprinted along the desperate mountainside; the ravenous wolves snapped and growled hard on his heels, their lolling tongues demanded his blood.

    He would never make it!

    The path had gone - the gap was too wide - it was madness to try.

    He charged forward even faster; he lunged and leapt towards her; his legs kicked and swung through the empty air; his despairing arms iled and grasped at the greedy abyss.

    The terrified adrenaline thumped through her ears; she tried to move from the jumbled knot on the ground beyond the ruptured fissure.

    Ellis was jumping to his death.

    He would never make the broad distance.

    He was certain to perish!

    ¡°Ellis!¡± she shouted. ¡°No!¡±

 31. The Chasm

    Kira stretched and flung a reckless right arm back out over the gaping chasm; her body lurched closer to the crumbling edge; it cracked and splintered beneath her weight; she arched and reached for Ellis with every sinew in her battered, winded body - with every desperate, resolute hope she possessed.

    Ellis kicked and thrashed his limbs wildly; effort and terror strained across his despairing face. The terrible gravity of the ravine sucked him down into its deadly maul. The horrified blood pounded and sank through Kira¡¯s frame; the bleak caustic acid tormented her innards; she urged her fingers to extend, to grab, to w for him, the boy whose kindness had saved her from the vers.

    The trajectory of his forlorn body tumbled away from her, past the level of her eyes; down, down towards the fearful sombre distance below; a sudden rough jarring pain snatched at her skin; his hand ripped down her arm; she clenched her fingers, determined to hold on; his arm rasped through her grip; she seized at his writhing, plummeting wrist; her stubborn fingers stung andtched on; his fierce hand gripped hard.

    The jolting shock of his falling weight tore through her shoulder and arm; her joints wrenched; her body dragged closer to the perilous edge; her head and shoulders lurched and dangled down; the blood thumped to her hair; Ellis slid deeper, hauling her further into the deadly chasm; but she would not let go - she could not.

    A ravenous ck wolf bounded close behind Ellis; it leapt across the gap after its prey; its jaws snapped angrily, its salivating incisors resolved to sink into the soft meat of Ellis¡¯s legs. It kicked and twisted; its anguished paws thrashed for a ground that was no longer there; the sudden stark, brutal realisation of its fate shocked through its bulging eyes. A pitiful, despairing yelp reverberated across the valley as it thudded down the sickening side of the mountain, and the terrified creature was taken up into the Eternal arms of the Great Surrounder.

    The frayed edge of the path bit deeper into Kira¡¯s shoulders and ribs; her bruised frame scrambled and battled to support Ellis¡¯s pendulous weight; she tried to remember to breathe as more stones crumbled and splintered away from the vulnerable, fractured boundary; they spun and skipped as they crashed down into the full, horrifying depth of the chasm below.

    Ellis¡¯s swaying weight yanked and heaved at her arm; she kicked and scrabbled; her feet searched for a solid hold as she slithered and slid further over the edge; her desperate knees tried to dig in; she pressed down, determined, onto the rough uncertain pathway; her thoughts reeled and shuddered, terrified at the prospect of sharing the fate of the predatory wolf.

    Her head and arms and shoulders drooped precariously over the edge of the abyss; her panic-stricken eyes were forced to stare straight down at the dizzying vertical drop which fell away beneath her.

    The cold rushing wind stood still, silenced by the adrenaline pumping through her; an awful halting of time stretched away into a dizzying eternity; a cold sweating sickness; the fear of losing Ellis, and her own life, swept across her suspended trembling frame.

    She fought and focused; a solitary thought resonated through her body - she would not let go, she would never let him go.

    Her legs slid further and scraped cruelly along the cold rocks; her swaying shoulders were dragged further down; Ellis¡¯s weight swung and lurched; her body stretched and racked to its painful limits; his terrified grip crushed her wrist; but she saw nothing and felt nothing; she peered down at the face of the young man, the fresh, hopeful life, which dangled from her aching arm; the earnest, unconditional blue of his eyes burned back up, transfixed on hers, desperately needing her and trusting his life to her; the maic pull of his gaze drew her full focus and blocked out the giddy vertigo, the hungry, desperate battle with gravity.

    She must repay that faith, that bond.

    Her sprawling legs slid further; they slithered deeper towards a cruel and horrible fate; Aldwyn¡¯s legs writhed and tangled and wrapped beneath hers; the lurching momentum jolted to a halt.

    ¡°Alright,¡± Aldwyn panted, ¡°I¡¯ve wedged my foot into a crevasse - don¡¯t move - I think I can hold you.¡±

    The surprising sound of another person¡¯s voice shocked Kira back to the cold of the mountain, to the sudden, treacherous and vulnerable situation.

    ¡°Don¡¯t let go!¡± Ellis gasped up to her.

    ¡°I won¡¯t!¡± she yelled.

    ¡°Can you hold me?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Yes, I think so - Aldwyn has my legs - but I can¡¯t pull you - you¡¯ll have to climb up.¡±

    Ellis stared intently at her; the pressure of his grip redoubled and stung into her wrist; he grimaced with effort and swung his other arm up and grasped her just above the elbow; her skin wrenched and bruised; Ellis heaved and levered himself up; he wed and pinched and burned her flesh; her arm sagged and throbbed and numbed; she bit her lip, determined not to cry out.

    He swung up and grabbed her belt; the grateful blood pulsed back into her hand as he released the strangling hold on her wrist; he kicked and wriggled his legs; his blunt, urgent knees caught her flush in the forehead; her thoughts reeled and dazed, but held firm.

    His weight shifted further up her body; he mbered across her back; her dignity happily abandoned; a thankful relief flushed through her; he scrambled to grab Aldwyn¡¯s outstretched hand to safety; her ungainly work as a humandder had saved him.

    The angry blood pounded through her inverted head; several pebbles cracked away from the brittle edge and rattled down into the void below; the dust and grit of the falling rocks mingled with the sour taste of her own fear at the back of her mouth.

    But Ellis was safe.

    It was all worth it.

    Her numbed, cramped legs were grabbed from behind; she was pulled up and back away from the perilous gap; her trembling body copsed its relief onto the cold hardness of the solid rocks; she spread her arms and hugged the bleak barren pathway; her cold, frightened breath caught up with her and gasped back into her lungs; a ridiculous urge tough dissolved through her.

    Several wolves prowled angrily on the other side of the newly-formed chasm; they howled their frustration to the chilled mountain air. They sniffed the edge of the crumbling path and pawed at it tentatively; their tongues lolled, their stomachs sagged.

    The foremost wolf stared across hungrily, then padded away, its head slung low. The others followed.

    The stalking anxiety thinned and melted from Kira¡¯s body.

    ¡°They¡¯re going,¡± she said.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Aldwyn panted, ¡°they now know where there¡¯s an easy meal of fresh warm meat waiting - if they can find a way down to the bottom of the gorge to get it.¡±Copyright N?v/el/Dra/ma.Org.

    ¡°You mean, they¡¯ll eat one of their own kind?¡± Kira asked.

    ¡°Nothing is wasted in Nature,¡± Aldwyn puffed. ¡°The death of that she-wolf might save the lives of the rest of her pack - her sacrifice might not be in vain.¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± Ellis gasped, ¡°perhaps now we know what happened to all those travellers who¡¯ve gone missing here over the years.¡±

    ¡°Yes, we¡¯ve been most fortunate,¡± said Aldwyn, ¡°let¡¯s hope we didn¡¯t use up all our luck in one go - that was more than enough excitement for my old bones.¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± said Ellis, ¡°thanks for saving me Kira - and for your help too, Aldwyn.¡±

    An uneasy heat prickled through Kira.

    She could not remember if she had ever been thanked before; she could not be certain that she enjoyed this awkward sensation. Shey still and held onto the raw pathway.

    ¡°Well,¡± Aldwyn replied, ¡°I haven¡¯t spent all these years teaching you how best to wield the Magik that Heals just to lose you now - besides, who would fetch water and go to market for me if you were gone?¡±

    ¡°Hmmph! Typical Aldwyn!¡± Ellis said.

    ¡°However,¡± Aldwyn continued, ¡°I fear that our problems are not quite at an end.¡±

    ¡°But we¡¯re safe now,¡± said Ellis, ¡°the wolves have gone - they can¡¯t get to us anymore.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but we¡¯re also cut off,¡± Aldwyn replied, ¡°we can¡¯t get back down the pathway to the valley. Perhaps that¡¯s no bad thing knowing that the wolves are prowling around out there - but it means that we¡¯ll have to take the Pass and cross these treacherous mountains - and that will not be an easy thing - especially at this time of the year with the weather closing in - in fact, it might prove to be every bit as perilous as the danger we¡¯ve just escaped.¡±

 32. The Melancholy Stars

    The cold hard night-time stone dug into Kira¡¯s side; the shallow recessed niche, which cracked into the fissured side of the mountain, was just deep enough to shield her from the worst of the wind, but it could not calm the turbulence of her restless adrenaline. She tried to rest, to recover - tomorrow was certain to be a trying day, braving the elements and the uncertainties of the Pass - but every time she closed her eyes, she could not escape the fervent image of Ellis dangling precariously from the length of her arm; his eyes still seemed to pierce into hers and disrupt her thoughts; his life, his trust, somehow seemed so precious to her; it surged within her like the beat of her own heart.

    It was a tense, precarious uneasy feeling; it was notfortable or happy, but somehow it seemed more important to her than anything else she had ever encountered before.

    She sighed and got up; she carefully stepped across her sleepingpanions, out onto the exposed pathway.

    The wind had calmed to a cid chill. She pulled her tunic tighter and rubbed her arms as the thin, shivering air brushed against her face.

    The silvered Purity of the Moon illuminated the huge open expanse of ragged valley down below; a vast fall of fierce mountains and sheer cliffs; their stark, jagged silhouettes, determined to overwhelm and im the lives of those not well adapted to their barren secrets. But in the vibrant silence of the night, it seemed a ce not just of danger, but of a staggering and unworldly beauty.

    Aldwyn¡¯s lilting snore drifted and reassured her.

    The trembling mountain breeze softly caressed her.

    How small she was, how insignificant beneath the immense open sky and the unlimited, infinitendscapes.

    A milky spray of stars peered down, curious to know her secrets, to inspect her every thought and worthiness.This belongs to N?velDrama.Org: ?.

    She folded her arms against the coldness of the air, but she seemed to be warm inside from a hope that she dared not touch and could not name.

    She gazed up at the overwhelming sky and asked the Surrounder for His guidance and what this strange feeling could mean; this unknowing certainty; to be so bravely afraid of the future.

    Perhaps she would be better without it?

    Perhaps the Surrounder, in His kind mercy, could remove it from her?

    Or it might fall away from her once she returned to the dreary routines of the convent?

    But the mncholy stars had already worked their deepest magik.

 33. A Visitor in the Night

    The balmy depths of the stilled, dark night embraced the slumbering camp deep in the gentle folds of its arms. The tranquil, glowing fires flickered amongst the tents. The drowsy guards paced softly on their patrol.

    Not even the tender, whispering mid-night breeze, which kissed the weary sands to sleep, noticed the deep shadow gliding noiselessly between the desert awnings.

    A keen, incisive dagger was unsheathed; it caressed an opening into the back of the taut cloth; its owner slipped inside, as a promise enters a lover¡¯s willing ear.

    The shadow crept towards a small mound of embroidered cushions where Gimel slept.

    The soft, sinuous steps were muffled by the gently yielding sand.

    The silent, glowing de was raised, poised to strike - a skilled and deadly thief who could steal a life before the owner even noticed it was missing.

    The heavy nkets were yanked back to expose its helpless victim.

    But Gimel had already gone.N?velDrama.Org exclusive content.

 34. The Anger of the East Wind

    Kira¡¯s wet, tired feet stumbled on wearily, further up the crumbling ledge of mountain path. The bleak cold leached her warmth and will. The brooding, jagged drop to her right grew perilously steeper; she forced herself tight into the drenched unfeeling rocks of the mountainside.

    A marauding wind buffeted her body andshed her hair into her face.

    If she became temporarily blinded, if she faltered and lost her footing now, she would perish.

    She stopped and tore a strip from her tunic. Her raw fingers fought to tie the cloth around her forehead; their numbed, wrinkled skin blunted by the cruel, constant, spiteful weather. The rough fabricpressed her burning ears.

    Aldwyn trudged on ahead; the whistling howl of the winds made it impossible to hear how close Ellis was behind. The fragile tapering slope of the pathway made progress slow and single-file.

    The heavy grey clouds crowded down on top of them. Brittle kes of snow threatened to gather; brief patches of white formed and crystallised against the brutal barren rocks; but the malicious winds sted and scattered them, condemning them to swirl and drift endlessly without hope of rest.

    She pressed forward, through the angry squalls. A loose stone and fatigue caused her to stagger and jolt; the dark howling void beside her lurched up; a caustic terror stabbed through her.

    She steadied herself.

    She must focus - she must not hurry her clumsy feet.

    The vicious wind shed at her raw streaming eyes; she grimaced and dragged her jaded body further up the slender path, higher into the hopeless, unending, impossible clouds; her exhausted legs did not want to keep climbing but there was no way back - the wolves and the chasm had seen to that.

    Aldwyn stopped and pointed at the route ahead.

    Kira squinted through the blurring sleet - a venomous rockfall had narrowed the pathway significantly, just as it turned a sharp, oblique corner. Clearly there was only room for one careful traveller at a time - but even then, there was no way of knowing what, if anything,y beyond the blind bend.

    Aldwyn signalled that she and Ellis should wait while he edged around the corner to check if the path beyond was passable.

    She stood still and tried to nestle into the unweing rock; the slow miserable cold engulfed her; her cramped legsined that waiting was lessfortable than plodding forward.

    She shivered as Aldwyn¡¯s cautious shuffling silhouette dissolved away from her; his face pressed close to the rugged mountainside; his groping arms spread wide; his fingers and feet probing for a secure hold along the thin ledge which hung out over the sheer jagged drop below.

    The insidious cold gnawed a resentful path through her clothing. She shuddered and watched on helplessly; the sombre knowledge writhed inside her that if Aldwyn should falter in any way, it would not be possible to help him.

    Aldwyn slowly manoeuvred his way around the corner and disappeared from view.

    The harrowing wind roared and deafened her senses; pellets of icy sleet stung hard into her eyes; she pressed her face to the bitter rocks.

    A piercing st of angry East Wind crashed into the mountain somewhere around the corner, in the direction that Aldwyn had just travelled.

    Turbulent hostile doubts murmured and snarled.

    Was Aldwyn safe?

    Had the savage gale dislodged him?

    She clung to the numbing rock-face a few moments longer; waiting; hoping; expectantly squinting into the dim obscurity of railing sleet.

    But Aldwyn did not re-appear.

    She blinked back towards Ellis through the blinding convulsions of hail; the sharp wind stung the unwilling tears from her eyes.

    Ellis smiled a faint reassurance at her; through the swirling weather, she could not tell if it was sincere or just for her benefit.

    She steadied her thoughts and tried not to sound rmed.

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t Aldwyn be back by now?¡± she shouted.

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m not sure. Probably he¡¯s fine¡­¡± Ellis replied.

    Her numbed, empty core quivered and shook.

    The unforgiving mountain robbed her of the energy or spirit to know how to react.

    At least Ellis had made the effort to appear hopeful.

    And perhaps Aldwyn was safe around the corner?

    Or was he trapped somehow, and in need of her help?

    She faced into the cliff and waited; the callous wind wed at her back; her weary trembling legs did not want to continue, but her friend was missing and if she stood still like this much longer, she would freeze to death.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to check on Aldwyn,¡± she shouted.

    Ellis raised his eyes to look at her again.

    Through the swirling sleet, Kira could no longer tell if the suffering etched into his anguished face was caused by their perilous situation and the vicious weather - or his troubled thoughts of Aldwyn.

    ¡°Be careful!¡± he roared back at her.

    Kira shuffled her stiff unwilling limbs towards the blind corner.

    ¡°Courage,¡± she wanted to say to herself, but the cruel cutting elements had sapped her brightness and hope.

    She spread her arms wide and edged sideways along the flimsy shelf of rock; her dulled legs barely responded; her icy fingertips fumbled helplessly; she pressed close to the wet stone and held her breath, terrified that her moving lungs might force her away from the rough surface; the damp icy foist of the harsh rockpressed into her nose.

    She struggled towards the corner.

    The stabbing wind heaved and pulled at her.

    She must not to look down; she must not think of the consequences that one misced step would bring.

    Her body heat haemorrhaged and bled against the unfeeling mountain; she scrunched her frightened toes and tried to grip the narrow ledge through the soles of her boots.

    Her heart jabbed and thudded its disbelieving questions and anguish.

    She must keep moving; her deadened legs trembled and doubted and distressed, but they edged her slowly toward the sharp bend - she could almost reach it.

    Her cautious fingers searched and scraped around the jagged angle of the mountain; they sped andtched on; she anchored her footing and wedged her trembling body hard into the forbidding stone; her anxious lungs sagged and breathed; she had made it to the corner - but she must not rx her focus or grip - she still had a job to do.

    She cautiously stretched her neck and eased her head around the tight bend. A stinging white swirl of sleet burned into her face. She grimaced and peered ahead intently.

    The path continued around the corner, distinct and steady across the

    bleak greyndscape - it seemed to widen out a little and would be easily passable - but there was no sign of Aldwyn.

    Her nauseous heart sank; a sickening panic growled and shuddered through her, its queasy acid burned deep in the pit of her stomach.

    She screwed her eyes shut; perhaps they had deceived her?

    Perhaps the cruel vagaries of the weather had fooled her?

    She breathed deeply and tried to force the sleet and horror from her pulsing thoughts.

    Her eyes winced through the misty eddies of hail and ice and checked again - ahead and upwards - through the swirling currents of sleet; but her gaze confirmed what she already knew - Aldwyn was gone.

    Calling out for him would be useless against the power of the wind, and

    there were no ledges or crags below the path on the steep jagged cliff where he could have fallen and survived.

    She sank her forehead against the freezing mountainside; a crashing wave of harsh bewilderment gave way to the dreadful truth, the terrible fate that had befallen her kind and gentle guide - the cruel wind must have taken him for its own.

    A painful spike pierced through her own dulling grief - how would she tell Ellis?

    Perhaps he had already guessed?

    Perhaps his face had already betrayed his true thoughts?

    How could they go on without him?

    A squalling gust of freezing air sted and buffeted her sorrowful body.

    She was trapped on a hateful mountain, tiny and insignificant, the weather and the wet and the stone determined to destroy her.

    Perhaps it would be better if she did not pull her head back around the corner?

    Ellis would surely read the awful truth in her face.

    She paused topose her tumbling, racing thoughts and squeezed

    her body tight against the cliff, desperate to shield herself from the vagaries of the cruel weather and the cruel coldness of the world.

    Back behind her, a fierce explosion of savage wind battered into the mountain, loud above the roaring din of the sleet. She pressed her face hard into the cold wet rock and grasped at it with frozen fingers, moulding her body to its stark, barren form.

    She must turn back and tell Ellis - it was cruel to leave him in worried suspense, no matter how dreadful the news.

    She pulled her head back from around the tight corner and turned to face him.

    She squinted through the urgent whirling sleet and opened her mouth to shout; her eyes struggled to re-focus through the bitter weather; she scanned and scoured the pathway behind her; her frantic thoughts reeled and stung.

    Where was he?

    Where was Ellis?

    She clung tighter to the freezing rock and fought to control her despairing mind; the driving sleet bit into her; a turbulent horror erupted within.

    He was gone.

    Ellis was gone.

    And she was alone - utterly and overwhelmingly alone.

    How could this have happened?

    He was there - safe on the path behind her - just a few moments ago - the selfish roaring wind had imed him too.

    And now she would die - alone and unnoticed - wretched, on the edge of a bleak mountain.

    She shuddered, deep and cold and afraid; her shocked fingers dug into the bitter isting rock; a seeping icy despair squeezed her and sowed its dark heavy doubts in her lonely mind.

    How could they both have gone?All content ? N/.?vel/Dr/ama.Org.

    Why had they left her there alone?

    The nuns had been right - that she would perish in a wicked miserable deserving end.

    A cold st of fierce wind stung through her.

    If she remained where she was, a cruel, perishing death would take her, and herpanions would have died in vain.

    She must fight through the panic and terror and grief.

    Perhaps she should press on, forward and around the corner - there might still be a chance she could survive?

    She must learn to face the world alone and somehow get back to the convent.

    But how could she just walk off and abandon them?

    Leave her friends there - alone and un-mourned, lost and taken by the deep ravines of the mountain?

    Above her, the angry East Wind hurled itself down and pummelled into her thoughts. A sharp searing pain raked across her shoulders; she felt herself moving, drifting, falling. Her feet could no longer sense the solidity of the ground beneath them; her fingers could no longer touch the raw rough stone; the biting air roared through her ears and mind; her eyes would not open.

    Her numbed will was too cold and too exhausted to care any more.

    Perhaps a swift and painless death would be a wee friend - the chance to join her kindpanions in the eternal embrace of the Great Surrounder.

    A dark grief floated endlessly; she swirled and was lost in a dense ck fog; falling, falling; no longer aware of her focus or the importance of her own being; the icy depths of a forbidding darkness overtook her and a crushing emptiness extinguished all sensation.

 35. The Silence of an Empty Tent

    Ilgar banged his goblet down hard on the low table.

    ¡°More wine!¡± he ordered.

    The servant bowed and left the tent.

    The rich aroma of the roasted goat drifted and mingled with the heavy scent of the smouldering incense.

    The food was good - this was definitely the life Ilgar had imagined a king should enjoy.

    But he must be careful not to enjoy it too much - he must not allow himself to be soft - he knew only too well what would happen to a

    Ruler who allowed himself to indulge incency - most likely the very same fate that had just befallen his predecessor.

    He shook the thought of the sulent spiced meat from his mind and looked instead at the map of his empire.

    Already his ns to unite the tribes and wage war on the cursed Somartans to the south were well advanced - those pestilential upstarts had been getting too big for their boots recently - it was time they were taught a lesson before their hostility could gather any momentum.

    Of course, there was still some resistance to his rule among the tribes in the west - but that was to be expected - they were still unhappy that their cousin, the old king¡¯s rule, hade to such a sudden and unforeseen ending.

    But soon that would all be forgotten, and his steel would taste the dark blood of the Somartans.

    His heart-rate quickened; his muscles flexed and rippled in the evening warmth.All content ? N/.?vel/Dr/ama.Org.

    There was no greater feeling - not the food or the wine - not the soft cushions or the dancing girls - all were as dust inparison.

    And after the Somartans?

    His eyes wandered daringly across the map.

    Wasn¡¯t there an entire desert to conquer?

    Filled with further riches - glory and gold?

    Why be content with just one kingdom?

    Yes, he would not grow soft and content like the young fool before him.

    The delicious scent of the goat-meat wafted up to him again.

    The fine spread of food, groaning on the low table, gleamed up and beckoned to him.

    Yes, the ancestors had been right - a cooling breeze by running water, the richly spiced food and wine from Xylim, the despairing death of an enemy and the bright clear stars to look upon at night - there could be nothing finer, or more pleasing in this life.

    His mouth salivated.

    The goat had been spit-roasted in its own juices over a deep pit of charcoal and herbs - just how he liked it best.

    He dug the fat de of his knife deep into the carcass of the beast and lifted a sulent leg clean up away from the table and brought the moist flesh to his mouth.

    In the polished steel of his de, a brief reflected shadow glided noiselessly behind him.

    It could not be Eram - he had been dispatched to make sure that thest of the old king¡¯s loyal retainers had been fed to the scorpions

    And none of the servants would dare to sneak about behind him like that - they would present themselves before him and bow their obedience before his throne.

    Behind him, themp flickered and gutted momentarily - but there was no breeze to cause such wavering that evening.

    Ilgar turned and looked behind himself to the right.

    ¡°Assassin, is that you?¡± he called out.

    ¡°Yes, my king, I am here,¡± a voice whispered from somewhere in front of him, to the left.

    Ilgar¡¯s fingers tightened around his knife.

    It was not possible to trust those from the Fraternity of Assassins - they were not an enemy who would stand and fight in honestbat, where skill and strength and experience with sharp steel would always win the day - they clung to the shadows and did not look into the eyes of their foe as they took his life; they did not stop to smell the warm wet rust of his blood as it flowed out, or hear his gurgling cries - they were little better than the mere magikants - although at least they used close steel for their kills.

    ¡°Well?¡± asked Ilgar. He listened hard against the muffled interior of the tent, not certain if he should trust his senses and face forward again.

    ¡°The task has not beenpleted, my lord. The boy was not there.¡±

    The silent ghostly voice drifted through the stilled air from the shadowy depths of the tent. Perhaps its owner was standing in the far distant dunes, or leaning directly into his ear beside him; perhaps the voice belonged to one who was alive, or perhaps to one who had already joined the ancestors.

    Ilgar snapped his head back around.

    The pride of the Izani bristled within him.

    He knew the value of an honest murder, not this skulking trickery.

    He would not be caught cowering over his shoulder like a timid woman.

    These were not the values of a true warrior.

    ¡°Then why have you returned to me?¡± he said to the empty tent. ¡°I want his head! And also find out those who have helped him escape, and bring me their heads too! Do not bring yourself before me again until you havepleted your obligation.¡±

    The covering at the front of the tent rustled and moved.

    Ilgar gripped the knife; the muscles in his arms flexed in readiness.

    The servant entered carrying arge amphora of wine.

    The servant bowed, then approached the throne and began to fill Ilgar¡¯s golden chalice to the brim.

    The rich wine glugged.

    Ilgar nced around the interior.

    A p at the side of the tent rippled slightly - but it might have been a night breeze seeking shelter from the heat of the dunes.

    His puzzled eyes stabbed into the deep corners of the tent; they scoured the ornate tapestries and coverings - but the silent tent was empty.

 36. The Cell

    Kira woke with a startled jolt and gasped down a lungful of air.

    A thick, dark dream of endless falling still pressed in on her, clouding her thoughts and groggy body; a nervous anxiety of perpetual drifting tried to suffocate her, but the unyielding solidity of a cold hard floor dug into her ribs and assured her she was no longer tumbling into a ck void.

    Perhaps she had died and this was some sort of painful afterlife?

    She roused her stuporous body and rolled over to her back to relieve the pressure on her side.

    She forced her bleary eyes open; they blurred and swirled; a dim, ufortable cave came into focus; the grey, barren rock was bleak and austere - but at least it was dry and warm and out of the horror of the savage, biting wind.

    Her ears strained against the hushed stillness; a faint, dull rustle echoed distantly; perhaps it was the angry rushing weather attacking the mountain outside?

    She groaned and reached a lethargic arm to rub her slow, heavy head; her drowsy body seemed to have been sleeping motionless for days.

    Dark, sluggish fragments of memory drifted back uncertainly.

    Ellis!

    Aldwyn!

    Gone!

    The loneliness of the cruel mountain.

    Falling!

    A sudden pulse of panic rushed through her thoughts.

    But the stone ground of the cave held her firm; she was not plummeting to her death; the freezing air was not rushing past her terrified mind.

    Her clumsy fingers rubbed her head and neck again.

    Evidently she was warm and breathing and still alive somehow.

    Her shoulders throbbed with a stiff, aching pain.

    Perhaps she had been lying awkwardly on them?

    She stretched to touch them; they were gashed and wounded somehow; the tunic near them was torn and matted with dried blood.

    She must try to wake up properly; she must work out where she was and what had happened.

    She flexed and extended her reluctant limbs; her eyes adjusted and ustomed themselves to the vague light.

    Two lumpy shadowsy dark on the floor not far from her, near the wall of the cave.T¨ºxt ? N?velDrama.Org.

    She forced herself up onto wobbling knees and crawled towards them; she squinted through the gloom; the ck, shapeless silhouettes strained into focus - two bodiesy slumped on the floor.

    Her mind raced and churned.

    A hopeful pulse of adrenaline rushed through her; she must find out, she must know.

    Her knees scraped and stabbed on the rough surface as she moved closer.

    Yes!

    She recognised those boots and clothes.

    It was Ellis!

    His sagging bodyy twisted and face down.

    Her heart convulsed with relief and happiness; she gasped down a grateful breath; her thoughts wanted to jump up and run and dance, but her faltering limbs would not permit such a celebration.

    But had he survived like her?

    Was he still alive?

    She reached to rouse him, but noticed a strange bloodied gash, torn into the shoulder of his tunic. The skin beneath was badly cut with a deep wound. Her own shoulders stung and prickled in sympathy.

    A worrying unease gnawed at her.

    She rolled him over onto his back.

    His unresponsive body flopped worryingly, lifelessly.

    His eyes were closed, his skin pallid and ghostly.

    More cuts shredded the shoulders at the front of his tunic.

    There was no sign of breathing.

    She shook him, but he did not wake.

    She leant in closer and pressed an anxious her ear to his chest - but she could hear nothing other than the worried murmurings of her own heart.

    Her nervous thoughts sank and reeled.

    Perhaps he had not survived?

    Perhaps he was dead and had been left there to taunt her cruelly?

    She held her breath and listened closer still; her fraught mind washed with fractured torments.

    ¡°Breathe!¡± she willed him. ¡°Please, just breathe!¡±

    She strained every fibre of her being into his silent ribs; his body was still warm; perhaps there was hope?

    A slow, shallow murmur reminisced through his chest, weak and uneven.

    Kira gasped down her own grateful breath - he was alive - but only just.

    She tried to rouse him again, but his limp, colourless body seemed to be lost - trapped somewhere beyond her touch, his eyes locked shut in a deep, unnatural slumber.

    She looked over at the other shadow; the lifeless outline of Aldwyny t on his back.

    She crawled over and shook him - but he too was oblivious to the world; scarcely breathing; unreachable; barely clinging to the edge of life.

    His thin breath was so shallow that he wasn¡¯t even snoring like he usually did when he slept - so clearly something serious must be affecting him.

    His gentle snoring had annoyed and perplexed her on the first few nights of their journey, but she had soon be ustomed to it - and even began to appreciate it - its lilting rise and fall had soothed her with its rumbling rhythm; it told her that she was not alone in the vast open wilderness and the un-seeing dark of the night; sometimes she even matched her own breathing to his slumbering luby, and this harmony had helped her find the release of sleep.

    But in his current stupefied state, Aldwyn could no longer provide her with such slenderforts.

    His clothes were also ripped and blood-stained across his shoulders; she shook him again, but realised it would be a hopeless task to try and rouse him.

    She would just have to wait, and hope that he and Ellis were both unharmed and would wake in time, like her - although Patience had never been one of her virtues - as the nuns had always been so very keen to point out.

    She should explore the cave.

    Her throat was rough and dry.

    Perhaps there was water nearby?

    Or someone who could help herpanions?

    Or a clue as to how they had all arrived there?

    She crawled towards the furthest dark wall.

    The stony surface bit painfully into her knees and palms; she wanted to stand but could not trust her weakened legs; she pressed on stubbornly, following the dingy outlines of the cave; she must do what she could to help her friends.

    The rounded, bulbous cave didn¡¯t seem to be that big, but the open neck-end had been barred and blocked by attice of heavy wooden beams.

    Her curious fingers ran along the smooth worked timber; she grabbed the frame and pushed and pulled, but the hefty wooden grille would not budge.

    Her anxious thoughts stalked and brooded.

    They seemed to be held captive in some sort of cage or prison.

    She peered out into the gloom beyond the heavyttice; her cell seemed to be one section of a muchrger cavern; there was no obvious guard on duty, no-one to ask for help.

    A feeble glow of light and a cool draught drifted in from the far corner of the dark cavernous hall.

    Perhaps this was an opening or exit of some sort?

    Her drowsy mind puzzled and deliberated.

    What it could all mean?

    How did she get there?

    How could she get out and help herpanions?

    Were they safe, or being held prisoner for some malicious purpose?

    A distant rhythmic scraping echoed somewhere off around the corner, where the light and the breeze wereing from - a sharp abrasive noise with a regr pulse; tap-scratch, tap-scratch.

    Perhaps it was the brittle hail outside?

    Or the steady pattering drip of water bouncing off the cave floor?

    She strained her ears against the whispering hush.

    The sound grew steadily louder, its beating cadence moved closer; tap-scratch, tap-scratch.

    Kira¡¯s anxious skin prickled; her thoughts tumbled and scattered - someone - or something - wasing towards her.

 37. An Unexpected Jailor

    Kira¡¯s anxious heart pounded faster; the steps got louder, closer; her skin rippled with an ominous expectancy; a prowling tension of excitement and dread.

    She nced around at the small cell - clearly there was nowhere she could hide - it would be best to try and face her captor head on and find out who they were and what they wanted.

    She gripped her nervous fingers into her palms.T¨ºxt ? N?velDrama.Org.

    ¡°Courage!¡± she whispered to herself.

    A bulky shadow emerged from around the corner, silhouetted against the faint light, a little shorter than her own height, but much thicker and stockier in build.

    Kira¡¯s curious eyes strained into therge dim space of the cave beyond her cell, determined to discover who her prisoner - or saviour - might be; the dark figure moved towards her with the familiar tapping-scrapping sound.

    Against the dull gloom, the face of a most beautiful woman, with high, proud cheekbones, emerged; but Kira¡¯s astonished breath unravelled, perplexed, as a dazzling set of deep and incisive green eyes shone out above a sharp, hooked, yellow beak. The woman¡¯s entire body was covered in a lustrous sheen of brown feathers, and her thin, yellow calves ended with a pair of long, sharp talons.

    The figure drew closer; her keen ws scratched at the cave floor; she folded arge set of wings behind her body rather than arms; she blinked in through the rough wooden bars, then tilted her head and fixed an intent stare at Kira.

    Kira¡¯s reeling senses staggered and startled; her numbed thoughts refused to gather in one useful ce; she could do little but return a stupefied gaze back at the strange bird-woman; the tense adrenaline banished from her neck and shoulders with a flood of bubbling questions and wonder.

    ¡°I am surprised to see that you have awakened,¡± the bird-woman said in a warm, calm tone. ¡°Normally, the humans do not break the great Gift of Skirnam.¡±

    Kira¡¯s mouth floundered open.

    A bird that could talk?

    She had never dreamed of seeing such a creature.

    Perhaps it was a dream?

    With an almost human voice?

    And with the figure of a woman?

    What could this mean?

    The nuns and the dusty scrolls had never mentioned this before!

    The creature blinked at her again and pressed a little closer to the wooden bars.

    ¡°Perhaps it is because you are a female, yes? The hunters and travellers we have caught before have all been the men of your kind.¡±

    Could this really be happening?

    Had she died somehow on the mountains and was now trapped in some sort of bizarre afterlife where the animals could talk?

    Back at the convent, some of the more fanciful illustrations in her prayer books had shown demons in a variety of terrifying guises; but thisrge brown bird seemed almost human and did not appear to be evil or pose a threat.

    Her startled jumble of thoughts would not settle; she was not sure whether to be fascinated or afraid.

    ¡°Well girl? Do you speak, yes?¡± the bird-woman demanded.

    Kira felt the colour rush to her cheeks as her voice caught up with her amazed breath.

    ¡°Oh! I¡¯m sorry if I was staring,¡± she said: ¡°but¡­ it¡¯s just¡­ I¡¯ve never seen anyone like¡­er... you, before.¡±

    The creature blinked at her again and tilted its head to the other side.

    Kira¡¯s stunned shoulders rxed; her pulse and focus returned.

    Nothing in her captor¡¯s demeanour suggested aggression or violence - indeed, her face and voice had seemed open, sympathetic and intelligent - not at all like the devils and monsters in the scrolls.

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m awake,¡± Kira continued: ¡°but my friends are still asleep - they seem to be drugged in some way.¡±

    ¡°Yes, that is the Gift of Skirnam,¡± the bird replied. She raised one of her legs a little.

    ¡°You see here, yes? Long ago, the great God of the Air gave us this talon at the back of our w.¡±

    The bird-woman indicated a sharp spur protruding from the back of her foot.

    ¡°It holds a piercing point with an instant dulling poison; we inject our prey with it to prevent them from struggling too much when we capture and fly with them, yes?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I see - yes, that would exin it,¡± Kira replied politely. ¡°So, when will my friends wake up again?¡±

    ¡°Not until the Great Observance of Graath. Your capture has brought much joy to my people, for now they will be able to choose another to be queen - just as I myself was once chosen.¡±

    ¡°Oh! You¡¯re ¡­ the queen then?¡± asked Kira.

    ¡°Yes! I am Harath, queen of the Akkipter,¡± said the bird-woman as she drew herself up to her full height and puffed out her chest feathers grandly.

    ¡°I have been queen here for many seasons now, yes?¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡¯ve never met a queen before. But did you say you were chosen - I thought queens were usually born?¡±

    ¡°That is not our custom. Our queens are chosen at the Great Observance - and all those moons ago, I was the chick chosen from all the others - the most blessed chick, chosen to feast on the sacred flesh of the humans.¡±

    ¡°The flesh of humans?¡± said Kira. Her eyes narrowed with doubt; her stomach prickled with nervous caution - perhaps this calm and elegant bird-woman was not as friendly as she seemed.

    ¡°Yes! That is how I became queen,¡± the creature blinked. ¡°And now that you have been caught, the Observance can be held once again, and a new queen can be chosen. It will be a great honour for you, yes? Your flesh will feed and create a new strong and mighty warrior, a protector of the Akkipter - just as I have been. You will die knowing that your life has been of much value to our aerie.¡±

    Kira¡¯s nails dug into her troubled hands; the slender spikes of panic began to crawl through her disturbed core.

    ¡°It is unfortunate that you have awoken,¡± the bird-woman continued, ¡°perhaps it might even be painful for you when our great king rips the flesh from your bones to feed the new blessed chick - but the Observance must take ce soon - it is an auspicious time - just before the winter spirits have settled on the sloping cliffs - so in a few nights, when the life-bringing sun descends directly behind Gruneath, the great mountain, you will be eaten.¡±

 38. A Meeting with the Queen

    The calm, warm stillness of the cave cradled Kira in its dry surround. She sipped a little of the water that Harath had brought her; its cooling fresh contact washed away the thick dryness of her throat, as it tickled a wandering pathway down to the bottom of her stomach.

    But her distracted thoughts still spun and lurched; their anxious whirl stabbed and prickled an unsettled mise through her apprehensive body.

    She and her friends were destined to be eaten as food at some sort of ceremony.

    Meat for a hatchling chick.

    Wasn¡¯t there something she could do?

    To escape somehow, or wake the others up?

    But she had tried everything, and looked everywhere.

    Had they avoided the wolves and the vers, only to be eaten by these bizarre eagle-like things?

    The two lumpy shadows of Ellis and Aldwyny motionless on the cell floor behind her, barely breathing.

    It wasn¡¯t fair that she had brought them into this trouble - they had been so kind to her.

    Why hadn¡¯t she just stayed in the convent?

    Why had the Surrounder chosen to punish her in this way?

    Was it something she had done?

    Perhaps the nuns had been right toin and admonish her?

    ¡°I have never met a female of your kind before,¡± said Harath, ¡°and there is much I would want to learn before the glory of the Observance, yes?¡±

    How could she bring herself to converse with such a creature?

    A monster who intended to eat her and her friends?

    And yet, the bird-woman seemed pleasant enough - quite friendly even - not strict or distant like the nuns, or spiteful and mean as some of her own ssmates had been towards her.

    Could it really hurt that much to pass some time talking to her?

    Perhaps it would stop her anxious mind from worrying about her fate at the Observance?

    And she might even find out some useful information - perhaps even a means of escape?

    And besides, wouldn¡¯t it just be rude not to say anything?

    ¡°An old myth still runs amongst us,¡± Harath continued, ¡°that the humans feed their fledglings with milk - like the cattle who graze the hills. Surely this cannot be true, yes? How could such a thing even be possible?¡±

    The warm blood rose in Kira¡¯s cheeks as Harath blinked at her with a deep scrutiny.

    Couldn¡¯t her jailer have started with an easier, less intrusive question?This belongs to N?velDrama.Org: ?.

    ¡°Erm, well¡­ why do you want to know about us - humans, I mean - why is it that you want to learn?¡±

    ¡°I sense that my destiny is bound to that of the humans, yes? As a chick, I was fed on the flesh of a human merchant who was caught on our mountains. Perhaps he had a stronger soul than most, for I feel that his heart still lives on inside of me. I often think that the Observance changed me more than I can understand - the blessed flesh did not just alter my physical form, but it also affected my spirit and even my way of thinking, yes? I sometimes feel more kinship to the humans than I feel towards my own kind - so I have been curious ever since then to learn all I could.¡±

    The bird-woman blinked in at her and scratched her talonszily across the cave floor.

    ¡°But the humans whoe to our mountains have be less and less - and even if we did catch one, the Gift of Skirnam meant they were unconscious, so I could learn nothing from them - until you arrived, yes?¡±

    Kira gently wriggled her shoulders; they itched and stung at the mention of the poisonous spike.

    Her friends were still slowly oozing blood from their cuts.

    Would they heal soon?

    Or would they bleed to death?

    Did that really matter if they couldn¡¯t escape before they were to be eaten?

    The two static silhouettes, in the far corner of the cell floor,y cold and senseless behind her.

    It was disturbing to see the dark outline of Aldwyn asleep, without the familiar lilting rhythm of his snoring.

    Was he still alive?

    Was Ellis?

    Should she even try to rouse them now?

    Perhaps it would be kinder just to let them sleep without waking and alerting them to the horrors of the Observance?

    ¡°The young one,¡± said Harath, ¡°I see the way you look over at him - he is your mate, yes?¡±

    The hot blood flooded through Kira¡¯s cheeks.

    Her embarrassed head refused to turn around and face her captor.

    ¡°Tell me, please, about your mating rituals - these two are your chosen coupling-partners, yes?

    Kira scrunched her toes down into her boots; her mortified eyes looked determinedly the other way.

    Perhaps Harath hadn¡¯t noticed her fluster in this dim light?

    But it would be just her luck if the bird-woman¡¯s piercing green eyes were capable of perfect vision in the dark, or seeing clear through stone - with even more biting uracy than Sister Amelia Constance.

    ¡°Or is the old one your father? He hunts and provides food for you, yes?¡±

    ¡°No!¡± said Kira, as she turned in exasperation. ¡°It¡¯s nothing like¡­¡±

    ¡°Wait!¡± Harath interrupted. ¡°The sentries are approaching,¡± she hissed in a low, agitated tone. ¡°Do you hear this, yes?¡±

    Kira¡¯s ears strained against the low, hollow murmur of the caves; the faint echo of tapping scratches rippled in from the entrance behind Harath.

    ¡°Tell me these thingster,¡± Harath said in a hushed voice, as she moved back a little from the sturdyttice of cell bars and lowered her eyes down to the cave floor.

    Kira¡¯s inquisitive thoughts pulsed with curiosity.

    Didn¡¯t Harath say that she was the queen of the Akkipter?

    But why would the queen be so timid and diffident at the approach of her own subjects?

    The shadowy outlines of three birds emerged from around the corner: they were shorter than Harath, and less bulky, but their frames seemed sturdier and more strongly defined by muscle.

    They giggled amongst themselves in the dim gloom of the cave; from their voices, they all seemed to be bird-women like Harath, but as they drew nearer, it became apparent that their faces more closely resembled that of a goat, withrger, wider eyes than Harath, and longer upright ears - they even had short horns protruding up from their heads - but their beaks seemed sharper and more powerful.

    They strolled up very close to their queen and encircled her. Harath looked vacantly down at the floor of the cave, clearly intent on avoiding their eyes.

    Kira¡¯s puzzlement grew - the scrolls had never informed her about any queen behaving this way before.

    ¡°Well, well, what do we have here?¡± said the bulkiest of the three, whose horns were the most prominent.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t this nice and cosy? The old queen weing in the new food! What a pretty picture!¡±

    The other two giggled and exchanged nces.

    ¡°We had heard it was so,¡± thergest goat-bird continued, ¡°but decided to see for ourselves.¡±

    She moved closer to the bars; her yellow eyes blinked and red in at Kira.

    ¡°Look! The flesh of Graath is awake - and the queen has brought it water!¡± she said. ¡°Well, I¡¯ve never seen the meat awake before - it will squirm and tickle as the blessed chick swallows it! This will be a new and interesting treat at the Observance.¡±

    The other goat-birds stared at Harath and sniggered.

    ¡°Do not worry, human,¡± therge one continued, ¡°the time is very near - perhaps only two or three more sunsets - then you will have the honour of serving the aerie.¡±

    Therge one turned and moved back towards her friends and her queen.

    ¡°But I wonder if you¡¯ll evenst long enough to see it, Harath? Your days fade fast now - time does not halt - not even for a queen. They tell me your wings are no longer favoured by Skrinam, and are all but useless now?¡±

    The two others giggled and stared openly at Harath.

    ¡°Still, that doesn¡¯t concern us,¡± thergest one sneered, ¡°soon your new friend will give us another queen to rece you. Soon your feathers will lose their lustre and turn to dust. You will be forgotten, remembered by none and honoured no longer, food only for the mange-ridden wolves.¡±

    Thergest goat-bird held her beak high and barged rudely past Harath, who was caught off bnce and stumbled to the floor.

    The other two giggled and strutted past their queen, without bothering to notice her, as their merry chatter disappeared around the corner, into the darkness of the cave.

    Kira moved back closer to the bars.

    How could the guards treat their own queen like that?

    Were the customs of these bird-creatures so very strange and different to everything else she had known or read of?

    Why did Harath allow them to push her over like that?

    Especially when she seemed taller and bulkier than the others?

    She was too far away to offer a helping hand, but a wriggling thread of sympathy stung through Kira¡¯s curiosity.

    ¡°Are you all right, Harath?¡± she asked.

    Harath returned a swift embarrassed nce and scrambled to her undignified feet, then walked hastily away into the shadows, without a word.

 39. An Awkward Conversation

    ¡°And now that I¡¯ve answered some of your questions, perhaps you¡¯ll answer some of mine?¡± said Kira.

    She shifted her sitting weight on the uneasy cave floor; its hard chill dug into her, but it was morefortable than just standing all the time.

    ¡°This seems fair,¡± Harath replied, ¡°and there is often as much to be learnt from the questions of others as the answers they give, yes?¡±

    The lumpy surface of the wall pressed into Kira¡¯s back as she leant against it and rested her elbow on the bars of her cell.

    The low dry murmur from the corridor outside was disturbed by a turbulent rushing st of wind.

    Perhaps there was an exit of some kind nearby?

    ¡°Some of the others whoe to look at me have a very different appearance from you,¡± she said.

    ¡°Yes, they have not eaten the flesh of Graath.¡± Harath plumped her feathers up to their full size. ¡°They are not queens, as I am.¡±

    ¡°But aren¡¯t you all the same? The Akkipter I mean? Why do you all look so different?¡±

    ¡°The first meat we are given when we hatch decides who we will be, yes? Our outward size, the keenness of our eyes, the strength of our ws - as Skirnam, great God of the Winds, has wished it, when he pulled the lightning down from the skies to make our mountains, yes? And provide shelter and food for us, his most blessed children.¡±

    She blinked in at Kira and scratched her talons softly along the floor.

    ¡°Some first taste the mountain hare, yes?¡± Harath continued. ¡°Their wings are not blessed with grace and air, but they are good workers, yes? They build and clean the aerie. Others are fed the flesh of the hawks and other birds - they are smallest in size, but their eyes are keenest and their talons so sharp - they are swift, fearless hunters. The flesh of the wolves is reserved for our great King, Aquil - only he can digest its rich, dark meat - he sits at the heart of our nest, and will preside over the Observance of Graath.¡±

    Kira¡¯s uneasy innards rippled in nervous apprehension.

    Talking was meant to take her mind off the subject of the dreaded ceremony.

    Harath tilted her head to one side and peered in at her.

    ¡°The wolves are strong and powerful creatures - cunning and ruthless in the hunt, yes? But not even one of the great she-wolves that prowl the foothills below us have ever broken the Gift of Skirnam and awoken before their flesh is eaten. You are the first, Kira - your force of life must be a strong spirit. Perhaps you are a great queen, like me, yes?¡±

    A faint heat rushed to Kira¡¯s cheeks

    No-one had ever thought of her as being strong before - and certainly never a queen!

    What would Sister Amelia Constance say about such a thing?

    But what use would such fanciful nonsense be anyway - if she and her friends were to be eaten in the Observance in a few days¡¯ time?

    There it was again - that nagging rm.

    That painful wriggling anticipation.

    She must do something.

    She must try and help her friends.

    Or at least try to talk about something else.

    ¡°But tell me about the ones who look like goats, please,¡± she said.

    ¡°Yes, it is true - many among us have grown into the strength and agility of the mountain goat. Their stamina and nimbleness makes them excellent sentries to endlessly patrol the rushing winds around our nest. There used to be so many goats - the steep slopes were white from their fur, yes? But your hunters came - they did not kill just for their own food, and often took more than they could carry, until the leaping goats became less and less, and your hunters had to climb higher and higher into our mountains.¡±

    ¡°And that¡¯s where you caught them?¡± asked Kira.

    ¡°The hunters, yes, and the merchants who crossed on the mountain path. At first, we took only those humans we needed for the ceremony of Graath - but as the rabbits and goats became less, and the humans became more, some among us hungered for their own chicks to be queens, and so we also began to take more than our need, until slowly, the human hunters too, stoppeding.¡±

    Harath traced her ws slowly across the floor.

    ¡°Our aerie once held three or four queens - but no humans have arrived for these past few seasons, and I was thest - until you and your friends arrived - now there can be a new queen again.¡±

    Hadn¡¯t Aldwyn mentioned something about missing travellers on the mountains?

    Could Harath¡¯s strange tale be rted to that?

    Perhaps these fantastical eagle-creatures were the real reason that so many travellers had disappeared, rather than the wolves?

    Wasn¡¯t it strange how much more could be learnt from the real world and from listening to others, rather than the drudgery of lessons?

    The stories of Harath and Aldwyn and Ellis were so much more interesting and absorbing than anything the scrolls could teach.T¨ºxt ? N?velDrama.Org.

    Yes - Aldwyn and Ellis.

    She must try to help them somehow.

    Her thoughts rushed over to her friends.

    Their two shadowsy motionless in the dark corner near the back of the cell. Their soft breath was stronger now, more definite and regr.

    Perhaps the effects of the drug were wearing off?

    The puncture wounds across their shoulders had begun to heal; the blood had matted and congealed into their tunics; it didn¡¯t look nice, but her concerns no longer prickled with the fear that they might bleed to death - but the stabbing dread of being eaten at the looming Observance still consumed her anxious mind.

    ¡°So, the ones whose faces resemble goats - they¡¯re the guards for your nest?¡±

    ¡°Yes, they are the guardians of the aerie - their wings are not as fast as others, but they have the endurance to patrol and protect us.¡±

    ¡°But if they are meant to guard you, why are they so rude to you? I mean, a group of them knocked you over and giggled thest time you were here.¡±

    Harath shuffled a timid step back from the cell bars and looked at the ground.

    ¡°And aren¡¯t you their queen? Shouldn¡¯t they bow down to you, or be more respectful or something?¡±

    Harath darted up an awkward nce, then studied the floor again.

    ¡°And you look much bigger than them, so why didn¡¯t you at least fight back?¡± Kira persisted.

    ¡°I¡­, I do not remember such an incident,¡± Harath huffed as she turned and walked off into the gloomy whisper of the shadows, around the corner and out of the cave.

 40. A Queen Confesses

    Kira strained her eyes out to the dim shadows around the corner at the exit of the cave; the stout bars held her in ce, but the buffeting sts of air teased her with their noisy freedom.

    ¡°Yes, I hear them too,¡± Harath blinked in at her, ¡°the spirit-souls of Winter will arrive soon and settle on our mountain - it is an auspicious time for a new queen, and the Observance¡­¡±

    ¡°Do you have to keep mentioning that?¡± said Kira.

    ¡°Yes, sorry¡­ I had always thought it would be a great honour to be the flesh of Graath¡­ but now that I have spoken with you - now that we have talked so much - I see that you have a life of your own, a destiny, a future - something you must feel is more important than Graath and the aerie¡­ Perhaps they all did¡­ but how was I to know? None have ever broken the Gift before, none have awakened and spoken - you are the first, your soul carries a great strength.¡±

    ¡°But tomorrow evening I¡¯ll be eaten, so what use will my spirit or soul be to me then? Or my friends?¡±

    She nodded back towards the two lumpy outlines lying in the dark hush of the cell, their slow steady breathing counted out a soothing luby; Aldwyn asionally snorted and snored, but he did not move.

    ¡°Yes, I shall miss you after the Observance; I feel you are a friend - you certainly seem to appreciate me more than the other Akkipter; I have never experienced this feeling - being a queen can be lonely at times - I have never really had a friend before.¡±

    Kira¡¯s mind swirled with agitated fragments - it had never urred to her that a queen could ever be unhappy or lonely.

    True, the rest of her subjects did intend to eat her flesh, but that wasn¡¯t really Harath¡¯s fault.

    How had she managed all this time without even one friend to talk to?

    What would her own miserable life have been without Amber?

    ¡°You¡¯ve never had a friend?¡±

    Harath looked down and scratched her ws on the cave floor.

    ¡°No, not really - at first they were all so frightened of me that they acted out of deference - they were courteous but never friendly, they never respected me, just my role as Queen. I did my duty proudly, but as I grew older, I saw their attitude change;tely some have sniggered at me when they thought I could not hear them, and when they realised that I was too weak to punish them, they became outwardly rude - especially when they were in groups together¡­ well, you saw this some days ago, it is no use pretending, when Fyrttu, the captain of the aerie¡¯s guardians, knocked me over.¡±

    ¡°But why did they start acting like this to you? You seem a very nice queen.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s because of my wings,¡± Harathmented.

    ¡°Your wings?¡± said Kira. ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±

    ¡°When I was younger, my wings enjoyed the careless favours of the Winds - I was swift and daring, the mountain draughts were my yground - not even the fleet-footed mountain hare could escape the deadly embrace of my talons. But gradually, I felt my wings were not as subtle as they once were, they did not caress the currents, Skirnam no longer favoured me with grace and speed.¡±

    Harath extended her long wings and gazed intently at them.

    Kira had never expected them to be sorge - much longer and broader than Harath¡¯s own height - a huge span which nearly touched the rough sides of the cave.

    ¡°But not long ago, one of myndings was difficult and clumsy, not smooth and effortless as a queen¡¯s should be, yes? News of this spread quickly through the aerie, and all now watch me, waiting to see if I can still fly or if I fail and humiliate myself, so that recently I have be too afraid even to try, and I have not left the nest for many days.¡±

    Harath shook her head and folded her wings back into ce.

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry to hear that,¡± Kira responded, ¡°but you know it¡¯s quite natural to grow older - my friend Aldwyn is old, but he is still a great healer.¡±

    She pointed to his outline, resting in the slumbering shadows.

    ¡°No, it is not age that has stolen the sheen from my feathers - I have eaten the flesh of Graath, and it has transformed me more than I could know - I have be too human and not enough Akkipter, and you humans cannot fly¡­Perhaps that is why I find suchfort in yourpany, yes? And why I understand and sympathise with you so much - it is the spirit of the merchant within me, calling for his own kind.¡±

    Harath hopped slowly from one leg to the other and ruffled her forlorn wings.

    Her kind voice and actions were certainly more considerate and human than many others who did not have feathers.

    Particrly some of those who wore the outward robes of a nun.

    Her eyes blinked in the dull light; her head drooped.

    ¡°But I will not have to put up with the torments of the others for much longer, for when the new queen is confirmed, I shall be forced out of the aerie and abandoned to my own resources - without the warmth of the nest to sustain me against the winds, without the blessing of flight to hunt for food, death will swiftly hunt me down. Our cruel cliffs carry no waste and offer no warmth to the needy; they only provide for the strong - they are lean, and their spirits hunger for the souls of the dead. No, my fate has delivered me a lonely and cold ending - my one constion is that I will not need to endure it for long.¡±

    Harath scraped at the ground with her talon; her wings sagged limply by her sides.

    A swirl of sympathetic fragments rushed through Kira¡¯s thoughts.

    Could it really be that a queen was so lonely, so badly treated by her own people?Copyright N?v/el/Dra/ma.Org.

    Made to feel so worthless, even in her own nest?

    And then, after such misery, just left to die?

    Her mind prickled with anguished memories of the convent and the other girls.

    Hadn¡¯t they also teased and been cruel to her in that way?

    Especially, as Harath had said, when they were in groups together?

    Sometimes even Amber had not been able to drag her thoughts up from the deep, dark despond.

    She was on one side of the cell bars, and Harath was on the other - but were they really so very different?

    Weren¡¯t they both alone and helpless and powerless?

    ¡°Courage!¡± said Kira, through the bars to her new friend.

    ¡°Courage?¡± Harath¡¯s puzzled eyes blinked back.

    ¡°Yes - why let the others push you around? You said yourself they don¡¯t even really know who you are - so why let them bully and define you like this? And aren¡¯t you their queen? You are still a strong leader with much to give - you have gathered much wisdom and experience - you shouldn¡¯t just let them push you around. Your talons are still powerful and sharp - find your courage and be a queen to them again.¡±

    ¡°But what has made you think like this?¡± asked Harath. ¡°Where have you found such inspiring words?¡±

    ¡°I¡­I don¡¯t know really - it¡¯s what my friend Amber used to say to me when I was in the convent¡­ in my nest, I mean, and I was bullied by the others.¡±

    ¡°You? You were also treated like this? Isted and helpless?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I felt so alone sometimes - even my friend couldn¡¯t cheer me up. I was clumsy - perhaps like your wings are now - nothing I did ever seemed to go right, and all my lessons went wrong - and it was all so unfair - and even if I tried toin, the nuns, always took the other girls¡¯ side in everything.¡±

    ¡°But how can this be?¡± asked Harath. ¡°That one as strong as you could be intimidated by others? The great Gift of Skirnam does not lie - you have broken its power for a reason - you have shown me a new current of air to explore, one that has lifted me into the great, grey, careless skies again. And I sense it in you - I am sure that you are a strong queen, a warrior like me - even if your wings are hidden - your soul is a powerful one - I sense it in you - and I should know, for I myself am still a great queen, swift in flight and strong in w.¡±

    Harath pulled herself up to her full height and puffed out her chest feathers; they seemed to shine with a fresh and deeper lustre, even in the dim half-light.

    Kira strained her eyes to follow Harath¡¯s bold decisive strides as she disappeared around the corner into the darkness of the corridor.

    The scratching footsteps faded into the murmuring silence of the unfeeling cave, and left her alone again, with only the dark shadows forpany.

    Her anxious mind tumbled and flushed with new doubts.

    It was nice that she had been able to help someone - and Harath¡¯s words were kind and well intentioned - but no-one else would ever think of her like that.

    Certainly not the nuns or the other novicee.

    A powerful queen?

    She was just a clumsy girl, who had brought trouble and danger to the only two people who had ever shown any kindness to her.

    More likely, the drug just hadn¡¯t been injected into her shoulders properly.

    Aldwyn snored gently in the corner and twitched a restless foot in his dreams.

    Even her new friends wouldugh at Harath¡¯s assessment.

    And besides, what difference would it make?

    Queen or no queen; powerful or not.

    Tomorrow was the Observance.

    Tomorrow she would die.

 41. The Corridor

    The forlorn gloom of the cell stifled Kira¡¯s thoughts.

    It was hopeless - there was no way out, and the Observance would be this evening.

    Her friends were doomed.

    And it was all her fault - if they hadn¡¯t helped her escape from the vers, they would never have been in this horrible situation.

    Perhaps they should have just left her to perish in the crushing, burning shackles?

    The familiar scratching-tapping sound of Harath¡¯s talons approached through the dim light.

    But her steps seemed more hurried, more jittery than usual.

    ¡°Harath, is everything all right?¡± Kira asked.

    Harath scuttled closer to the bars of the cell and lent her beak in.

    ¡°Be quiet!¡± she hushed. ¡°Do not let the guards hear us. You are a good friend to me - I like this feeling - I have decided, I do not want you to die in the Observance tonight - I have thought of how you can escape - I will help you, but we must go now, yes?¡±

    A nervous excitement pulsed through Kira¡¯s body; her bewildered, grateful fingers gripped the cell bars.

    Did Harath really mean it?

    Was there truly a glimmering hope of getting out?

    ¡°You¡¯ll help me?¡± she whispered.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Harath replied. ¡°You were right - I can not let the others rule my destiny for me - it is time to do something for myself. Besides, am I not still queen? Wait while I unlock the door.¡±

    Harath disappeared into the deep shadows of the cave.

    Kira rubbed her happy, reeling thumbs into the bars.

    Could she truly escape?

    Was it some sort of hopeful dream?

    Or even a trick?

    What about the guards?

    How would they get down from the mountain?

    The door clicked lightly and Harath returned.

    ¡°Quickly Kira, my friend! Come now! We must go if you want to live!¡±

    Harath hissed through the dim light.

    Kira held her tense breath and nced towards the corridor as she pushed at the heavy woodenttice of the cell door. The slightest sound might alert the eagle-keen ears of the guards - but it swung open silently and invited her out.

    ¡°Quickly now!¡± Harath urged her, as she turned towards the corridor at the far side of the cave.

    Kira dashed back to the dark shadows of her cell.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Harath hissed in an rmed tone. ¡°There is no time! We must leave now!¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t just leave my friends here,¡± Kira said. ¡°We¡¯ve got to get them out too, somehow.¡±

    She knelt and shook Aldwyn¡¯s limp frame violently.

    ¡°Aldwyn! Aldwyn! You must wake up!¡±

    The rushing adrenaline thudded through her body - the guards could return at any moment - this was her one chance, the chance she had hoped for - but she could not leave her friends - not after they had been so kind to her.

    Her anxious eyes flicked across the cave to the corridor - an approaching silhouette of a guard would mean disaster, and the cruel cell door would m shut again before she even had the chance to get out through it - but she couldn¡¯t just leave the others - she had to save them.

    ¡°Aldwyn! Aldwyn!¡± she hissed into his ear as she rocked him forcefully.

    ¡°If you can hear me, we need to move - we need to get out!¡±

    Aldwyn¡¯s arm twitched; he tried to swat her away feebly, but his eyes remained closed.

    ¡°But¡­but the escape,¡± Harath protested, ¡°I think it will only work with one of you, yes? I want to help you escape, Kira - you are my friend - and the aerie will need the others for the Observance. I cannot save them all.¡±

    ¡°No!¡± Kira replied. ¡°We are friends - but these are my friends too - I can¡¯t possibly leave them like this.¡±

    ¡°But I don¡¯t think this is a good idea,¡± Harath hopped from leg to leg. ¡°Only one of you cane.¡±

    Aldwyn groaned quietly; his restless eyes wavered behind their lids, but did not open.

    She moved over to Ellis.

    Even in the dim light, his skin looked pallid; his slumbering breath stumbled and faltered through dry, cracked lips.

    She shook his frail body, but her fretful judgement knew it was useless.

    ¡°Please, there is no time!¡± Harath urged from the gloom of the cave. ¡°We must go now, before the guardse!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll have to help me, Harath. Please! Is the exit far?¡±

    ¡°No, not far, just out of this cave and along the corridor a little way - but we must go now! Quickly!¡±

    ¡°Then we¡¯ll have to carry them or drag them somehow,¡± Kira exhorted. ¡°You¡¯ll have to help me, Harath, I¡¯m not leaving them here - but I can¡¯t move them both on my own.¡±

    ¡°But this will make too much noise and slow us down - the aerie will hear us - the guards will be alerted - my escape is only for you - we must run!¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t just leave them here - we have to try.¡±

    She grabbed Ellis¡¯s arm and wrestled his weight around to face towards the door. He was far heavier than she remembered, but she pressed her toes down hard into her boots and heaved him across the cell.

    Harath darted in and pulled one of Aldwyn¡¯s arms with her sturdy beak. The sharp powerful edges of her bill sliced through the sleeve of his tunic; he groaned fitfully as she hauled his rustling body across the floor - but they must get out, and this was their only hope - if Aldwyn was hurt, he could always heal himselfter.

    She smuggled Ellis out of the cell, then waited for Aldwyn to be pulled clear.

    She pushed the heavy door silently shut again - at least if the patrolling guards came past, they wouldn¡¯t be alerted by the gaping exit.

    She grasped Ellis¡¯s arm again and strained with her slumbering burden through the gloomy shadows, across the whispering friction of the cave floor. Her anxious ears prickled for any sign of the guards; her legs toiled and tired - she had not eaten properly in the cramped cell - but the terrible fear of recapture drove her on. This was their chance - there would not be another - and heratose friends were relying on her to get them out.

    Ellis¡¯s unconscious weight rasped across the rough cave; her shoulders and calves ached against his burden; she twisted around to check Harath was still dragging Aldwyn ahead of her and followed the scraping slither of their escape toward the far corner of the cave and the murmuring corridor beyond.

    A billowing draught of air caressed her face through the darkness and dropped the temperature around her; the low grumble of the passageway grew louder.

    It couldn¡¯t be too far now - she must be nearly at the corner.

    The faint scratching of Harath¡¯s talons halted.

    She nced around. Harath released Aldwyn¡¯s arm and stood bolt upright.

    ¡°Wait! I hear something!¡± she said.

    The acid in Kira¡¯s tense stomach lurched; she froze rigid to the spot; if they were caught now, they were certain to be killed - there would be no time or chance to escape before the ceremony tonight.

    Her alert senses trembled and scanned the dim whispers and dark outlines of the cave; but the only sound she could hear through the sombre gloom was the race of adrenaline thumping through her own nervous ears.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s all clear,¡± said Harath. ¡°But we must move quickly - the exit is up this corridor.¡±

    She heaved at her strenuous load again; her fingers throbbed with pain as their grip cramped and sweated; her calves stretched taut and strained; a cooling surge of breeze wafted from the corridor, but could not quell the hot blood which flushed through her face as she gulped down a heavy breath.

    She struggled and twisted and lugged Ellis around the corner.

    She had made it this far - the exit could not be too much further.

    A brief ripple of pride and happiness surged through her as she dug her stubborn toes down and strained again.

    The surface of the corridor was worn and a little smoother than the cave; the friction and noise of Ellis¡¯s insensible weight lessened as he slid and slithered more easily; but the passageway inclined quite steeply, and she was forced to lean back and haul even harder against the sloping resistance.

    The murky gloom of the cave shifted and lightened - it was afort to see Ellis more clearly, to see the shallow rise and fall of his chest - but her apprehensive eyes warned her that the light would also make their escape all the more easy to detect.

    The bustling noise of the mountain wind outside grew louder; the asional st of air covered the slithering sound of Ellis¡¯s body and Aldwyn¡¯s fractured bleary moans.

    The close, musty temperature of the corridor dropped, but the strenuous effort of her work burned through her tiring body.

    She twisted to check the way ahead - it couldn¡¯t be too much further.

    Harath had said it was close.

    What would she have done without her new friend?

    It was very brave of Harath to help her like this - to risk her own life for a new friend - but her bravery would be wasted if they didn¡¯t get to the exit and escape with their lives.

    Her weakened, hungry legs wobbled under their strain; her resentful shoulders and arms trembled and ached andined.

    She leant back and heaved.

    It couldn¡¯t be far now.

    She turned her head again.

    Just up beyond Harath, a bright patch of light reflected on the wall and betrayed the turning to the way out.

    She was almost there!

    It wasn¡¯t too far.

    As long as the guards didn¡¯t disturb them, they would reach the exit.

    She gulped down the grateful air and redoubled her exertions.

    They would be out soon - out on the open mountain.

    Her body shuddered; the stabbing memories of the fierce winds that bit and gouged at her thest time she had been out there convulsed through her thoughts.

    And if it had been this difficult just to move Ellis to the exit, how could she possibly hope to haul him all the way down the mountain to safety?

    Would the pathway be smooth and wide enough?

    Wouldn¡¯t it be too easy for the other Akkiper to see them, exposed, out on the mountainside?

    If it was stormy outside, that might offer them some cover - but it might also blow them over the precipitous edge.

    But she could not leave her friends there now - she could not allow her doubts and concerns to hold back their escape to safety.

    She would just have to face those dangers and hardships when they confronted her.

    Their lives - all of their lives - depended on her.

    ¡°Courage!¡± she panted beneath her staggering breath.

    Her wrists and forearms pulsed with spasming pain.

    Her drained, overworked body gasped for relief.

    Her burning legs buckled; she stumbled and fell.

    Shey silent for a brief life-long instant, holding her heaving breath, terrified her fall might have alerted any passing guards; but the roar of a blustery wind muffled her cumbersome mistake.

    The flushed and uncaring beads of sweat tricked past her concerned temples.

    Her hands and legs stung from the fall, but she struggled back to her feet - they must keep moving - she must get Ellis and Aldwyn to safety - a few bumps and scrapes were nothingpared to the horrors that awaited them at the Observance.

    She hauled again at Ellis¡¯s tiring weight.

    Every sinew in her taut bodyboured and shivered and trembled as she climbed the steep unforgiving corridor, whether from fear of being recaptured and eaten, or from sheer determined effort, she could no longer be certain.

    Why did boys have to be so heavy?

    Her weary arms sagged loose in their sockets; her breath came in sharp gulps; her exhausted dizzy legs wobbled; her light head swam; the slow beads of sweat trickled down her heated neck and back.

    Her cramped fingers released the burning weight of Ellis as she bent forward and copsed them onto her knees.

    ¡°Stop!¡± she panted. ¡°I¡¯ve got to rest here.¡±

    ¡°But we are here now,¡± Harath protested, ¡°it¡¯s just around this corner. You will be free, yes? Don¡¯t stop now - the guards will patrol this way. We must get out before they arrive.¡±

    Kira turned; her eyes blinked and adjusted to the light reflecting on the wall behind; her grateful lungs swallowed the fresher, cooler air; the loud sound of the buffeting wind allowed her daring hopes to rise and flicker; her thudding heart swirled with a brief tion.

    She had almost made it.

    She had rescued her friends!

    But they were not out yet.All content ? N/.?vel/Dr/ama.Org.

    They must not get caught and eaten now.

    But her swaying, staggering legs refused to move.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s no use,¡± Kira gasped. ¡°I just need a moment to catch my breath.¡±

    ¡°Quickly then, yes?¡± Harath urged. ¡°Let me just check and make sure the exit is clear.¡±

    Harath extended her neck and poked her head around the corner of the rough cave wall, into the light of the turning - then swiftly jerked it back.

    ¡°What¡­ what is it?¡± Kira asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s Fyrttu,¡± Harath whispered back. ¡°She¡¯s standing by the exit - she must have just returned from patrol.¡±

    The worried acid lurched in the pit of Kira¡¯s distressed stomach.

    ¡°Did she see you?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think so - she was busy preening her feathers - but there¡¯s no way past her - we¡¯ll have to turn around and try another exit. Quickly! Before shees!¡±

    Harath grasped Aldwyn¡¯s arm once more and spun him around to face back down the corridor.

    Kira¡¯s desperate body thumped with exhaustion and anguish - they¡¯de all that way, they were so nearly free, now she would have to drag Ellis all the way back again.

    Her uncertain legs ached and did not know if they could carry them both that far.

    She grabbed his arms and wrestled to turn his weight around. Her hesitant feet stumbled and tripped on Ellis¡¯s body.

    She jerked out a desperate hand to the wall of the cave, determined not to fall or make a noise that Fyrttu might hear.

    Her fast, clumsy fingers brushed against a loose rock. It scraped free from the wall and ttered to the ground; its sharp rattling echo bounced painfully along the corridor.

    A spear of terrified shock stabbed through Kira as she froze and winced in horror at her unwieldy slip; she clung to her agonised breath; her hollow heart thudded in panic.

    But there might still be a chance.

    Perhaps a loud st of mountain air had covered her cumbersome noise?

    Perhaps Fyrttu had not heard her dreadful mistake?

    The guilty blood pounded through her ears, across an agonising lifetime of silence.

    ¡°So, the flesh of Graath thinks it can escape?¡± said Fyrttu, as her head loomed menacingly into the corridor.

    ¡°Then I had better kill you now myself, as a worthy sacrifice to the greatness of Skirnam.¡±

 42. The Weight of a Rock

    The narrow corridor trapped Kira in its rough tapered confines; the dark silhouette of Fyrttu blocked the bright corner to the exit; Kira¡¯s panicking thoughts scrambled and rushed, but were pinned down and paralysed; she edged back into the cold protection of the sloping stone, but kept her trembling body between the steely hostility of the guard and the slumbering form of Ellis.

    Fyrttu had been gigglingst time Kira had seen her - but now herbatant stocky contours lurched forward threateningly; her caprine features hardened into a cruel, determined sneer; her horns lowered, poised for an attack.

    A shuddering intimidated rm pulsed through Kira¡¯s startled ears and body.

    But she couldn¡¯t run; she couldn¡¯t leave Ellis.

    A sudden squalling bruise of shrieking feathers and talonsunched past her as Harath crashed into the guard with a tenacious force.

    Her powerful, undaunted aggression sent them both screeching and reeling around the corner towards the exit.

    Kira dashed forward and followed the tempestuous, bitter fury into a small, smooth chamber which opened onto the rugged cliffs outside.

    She squinted as its fresh brightness stung at her eyes; the raw, overwhelming chill of crisp air rushed in from the barren slopes and bit at her nose.

    The strident rumble of plumage and beaks shed discordantly; Harath had made her size and the shocking surprise of her attack count. Her hefty weight trapped Fyrrtu to the ground; her fierce beak and talons ripped at her opponent¡¯s chest and wing feathers, in a furious storm of pale billowing plumage and grim anger.

    Fyrttu squawked and screeched in shrill pain as she twisted and writhed beneath the agony and fighting menace of her queen; the wiry, agile strength of her supple flight muscles heaved her contorting body out from under Harath¡¯s determined attacks; she wriggled free and sprung up to face her foe in resolute and deadly earnest.

    Kira¡¯s anxious blood pounded with urgent caustic torment as Fyrttu tore at her rival and unleashed a savage deluge of squalling talons and ripping jabs with her ruthless hooked beak.

    Harath hopped and swerved from side to side, desperate to avoid and fend off the vicious attacks; her great wings thumped and pped to shield her vulnerability, but her weary body could not withstand the ferocious intensity of the cruel onught.

    A venomous swipe from Fyrttu scuttled Harath and sent her scrambling, helpless to the ground.

    Kira¡¯s shocked adrenaline thumped a relentless convulsing rhythm.

    Harath had put herself in mortal danger to help her escape - she must repay that kindness; she must do something to help; she must defend Harath - or all of her selfless bravery would have been in vain.

    She dodged back into the dimness of the corridor and scrabbled to pick up the hefty rock she had just dislodged.

    Its firm weight sagged in her wearied arms; its dry abrasive edges roughed at her fingers as she dragged it up and carried it back around the corner to the exit chamber.

    In the deadly scrambling melee, Fyrttu had twisted around and now had her back to the corridor, astride the helpless, pinioned Harath, tearing at her exposed, defenceless chest feathers.

    Harath rolled and dodged, pping her great wings to try and dislodge her opponent and buffet away the cruel ripping attacks, but the raw, sinewy power of the guard overwhelmed her with a vicious brutality of strength.

    Kira had to act.

    Her new friend¡¯s life depended on her.

    She wrestled the weight of the rock up to her chest; her arms burned and trembled with exhaustion and fear.

    She must focus; she would have to time it carefully; she wouldn¡¯t be able to hoist the rock up like this again; she would have to be urate; she would have to concentrate.

    Harath wrenched to the side and swiped a great clubbing wing at Fyrttu, thumping her opponent back towards the corridor.

    The dry anxiety rattled at the back of Kira¡¯s throat.

    This was her chance - now, while Fyrttu was unbnced and stumbling.

    ¡°Courage!¡± her heart drummed to her.

    She pounced forward across the short distance and fought to lift the rock above her head.

    She could not hold it there for long.

    It was now or never.

    She swung the rock; its momentous gravity ripped from her aching fingers, as it thudded down into the crumpling softness at the back of Fyrttu¡¯s head.

    A shuddering st of wind roared in through the exit as the rock crashed to the ground and sent its rumbling echo crackling around the small chamber.

    Kira¡¯s shocked senses could not remember how to breathe; her dismayed blood prickled and stung at the lining of her silenced stomach; her appalled eyes stared down nkly at the motionless Fyrttu, uncertain if the guard was alive or dead.

    Her turbulent thoughts reeled and fragmented, haunted by a dark conspiracy of doubts and anguish.

    She could not remember ever hurting anyone before.

    But the upright Harath beamed as she hopped from leg to leg.

    ¡°Yes!¡± she said. ¡°You are a great warrior! Have I not told you this? I knew I sensed the spirit-soul of a great hunter-queen in you! This one had ruffled my feathers for too long - now I am most happy again! But we will celebrate this victoryter - now we must get your friends to the exit, yes? Quickly, before more sentries arrive!¡±

    This spiky, thorny guilt was not a pleasant sensation.

    She couldn¡¯t be a warrior-queen - not if it felt like this.

    But her friends needed her - what else could she do?

    And they were not safe yet.

    There wasn¡¯t time now to stop and dwell on such things.

    Harath was right.

    The noise from the fight was almost certain to have alerted other guards.

    They must move.

    The pathway down must just be outside.This belongs to N?velDrama.Org: ?.

    They must escape.

    Ellis and Aldwyn were still relying on her.

    She must focus on the here and now - on what needed to be done.

    She darted back around the corner and grasped Ellis¡¯s limp arms; she dragged and twisted and squeezed him around the tight bend into the freshness and dazzle of the open-mouthed cave, while Harath brought Aldwyn.

    The path back down the mountain must just be out of that exit.

    They would be free soon.

    She must stay focused and get her friends to safety.

    She told her eyes not to look at the static form and scattered miserable feathers of Fyrttu, as she heaved Ellis across the short floor towards the blustery exit of the cave.

    Was she some sort of monster for what she had done?

    But her friends had needed her.

    What choice did she really have?

    An angry swirl of wind sted through her thoughts and stripped away the close warmth of the nest.

    A brief flurry of snowkes melted on her nose and cheeks; she shuddered at the memory of the fierceshing sleet which had stabbed at her face thest time she had been out there; but she could see clear across a wide gaping valley to another cliff face, so the weather couldn¡¯t be too bad just now.

    No, there was nothing to fear.

    The path back down to safety must just be outside - it would be downhill all the way from here.

    She could manage.

    She would have to - Ellis¡¯s life depended on her.

    She released his gging limbs and moved towards the bright edge of the cave.

    She blinked into the new dazzlingndscape; a huge craggy, grey mass of rocks formed a steep jagged ravine, filled with an eddying, ireful wind and billowing drifts of mist and snow.

    The bitter air buffeted and forced its way into her face and lungs, and pushed her gasping back into the chamber, then relented and died.

    She would have to brave the weather - she would have to get Ellis and Aldwyn down - the real dangery back inside the caves and corridors behind her - the path must be just down outside the lip of the cave.

    She forced her tired body back to the opening and ced a careful supporting hand on the wall; she leaned her cautious head out over the abrupt precipitous exit to examine the pathway and assess how best to drag Ellis down.

    The rough cliff face veered sharply away below her trembling feet into a dizzying sheer wall of impossible, vertical, wind-hewn rock.

    She pulled her nervous head back in.

    Perhaps she hadn¡¯t looked closely enough?

    Or perhaps the pathway started a little further down the cliff?

    She edged out again; her worried eyes squinted and strained down through the drifting mountain fret; down through the perpendicr dizzying distance below; the deadly serrated scars of fractured stone; the awful empty, barren jaws of unforgiving, unrelenting rock.

    Her nervous stomach lurched; her faint knees wobbled and weakened; she clutched tighter to the supportive wall.

    But there was nothing - no path, and no way down.

 43. A Doubtful Pair of Wings

    Kira shrank back, away from the dizzying exit.

    A confusion of puzzling turbulent doubts bubbled within her.

    ¡°But there isn¡¯t a path here, Harath! There¡¯s no way down!¡± sheined.

    Harath drew herself up to her full, majestic height.

    ¡°Of course there are no paths,¡± she said, ¡°Skirnam has blessed us with wings - the wind and yful air is our pathway - we do not need the dirt and stone of the goats and the hares.¡±

    ¡°But I haven¡¯t got wings!¡± said Kira. ¡°How can me and my friends get down?¡±

    Harath puffed her chest feathers out.

    ¡°I will carry you,¡± she said proudly. ¡°I will fly you to safety.¡±

    An anguished conspiracy of stubborn doubts and concerns unravelled across Kira¡¯s mind.

    Harath hadn¡¯t mentioned this part of her escape n.

    And hadn¡¯t she confessed that her wings were faltering and uncertain now?

    Would it even be safe?

    But Harath had been kind and very brave to help them escape - she fought fiercely against Fyrttu, and risked her life - it didn¡¯t feel right to doubt her friend¡¯s kindness now.

    And yet¡­

    The perilous danger of the grey, jagged cliffs still reeled in her thoughts.

    ¡°You can fly us to safety? You¡¯re¡­ you¡¯re sure?¡± she asked. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­I mean¡­ didn¡¯t you mention that you had struggled to fly recently?¡±

    ¡°But your words have inspired me - I must believe in myself and trust that the divine favour of Skirnam has not deserted me. I am still a great queen, yes? You have shown a great kindness to me, my friend - now I will return the favour to you, yes?¡±

    It was true - she had instructed Harath to have courage and take control of her own destiny.

    Should she now doubt her own advice?T¨ºxt ? N?velDrama.Org.

    Or the ability and kindness of her new friend?

    And besides, what choice did she have?

    They couldn¡¯t just stay there by the exit - the guards were sure to arrive - and she owed it to Ellis and Aldwyn to get them to safety.

    But the deadly, rushing, unforgiving, vertical drop still haunted her.

    ¡°And you¡¯ll manage to take all three of us?¡±

    Harath shifted her weight and hopped from leg to leg.

    ¡°Well¡­no¡­ I will only have the strength to carry one of you - the safety of the valley below is a long journey - I can glide down with one of you - but the currents press hard against the cliff and make it difficult to climb back up to the aerie - I will not be able to manage this three times. I tried to tell you it would be best to escape with only one of you, yes?¡±

    ¡°But Harath, I can¡¯t just leave my friends here - they¡¯re relying on me - they have been so kind - you understand how it feels, what it means to trust a friend.¡±

    ¡°Yes, now, thanks to you, I do - and that is why I wanted to help you. But it is not toote for you, Kira - I can fly you down and get you safe - but you must leave the others here - the guards will be along soon, they will find them and when the life-giving sun lowers behind Gruneath, the great mountain, the aerie will use them in the Observance.¡±

    ¡°No Harath! I won¡¯t leave them like that - it¡¯s all of us or none. There must be another way - some other exit with a path, or some other way out to safety? I can¡¯t just leave my friends here.¡±

    ¡°There are no pathways at all to the aerie - the Akkipter do not need them - and your hunters would use them to climb up and kill us.¡±

    ¡°So we¡¯re trapped here? We will be the flesh of Graath as Fyrttu wanted?¡±

    A bitter spike of hope stung through her dismayed body.

    They were so close; they had worked so hard to get to the exit; but now - now that she could taste the fresh, open, mountain breezes, now that she could touch the possibility of escape and see the vast promise of freedom, the callous realisation came that it had all been for nothing.

    Harath gazed at the ground.

    The guards would find them soon.

    Was the Surrounder truly so cruel - to offer up the joyful opportunity of life, then snatch it away and leave her and her friends there to die so miserably?

    A Blustering wind broke the empty silence.

    Harath looked up.

    ¡°Well, there is perhaps one other chance...¡±

    ¡°Anything Harath! If there¡¯s any hope at all¡­¡±

    ¡°Even with your human eyes, you can see that waterfall on the other side of the ravine, yes?¡±

    The cold piercing wind, irritated Kira¡¯s eyes as she peered out across to the far side of the wide, ragged valley. She blinked through the fretful mists and swirls of snow - a little to the left, and just below the height of their blustery wind-swept exit, a distant roaring curtain of water plunged over the lip of a fierce, vertical escarpment, then thundered off and disappeared down through a tormented vortex of hazy fog, into the gaping jaws of the chasm below.

    It was close enough to see, but far enough away to be a frightening prospect - especially if she was to be carried by one who was no longer quite certain of her wings.

    ¡°Behind the waterfall is a cave,¡± Harath continued. ¡°The stories tell that our king once lived there, long ago - but the cave is forgotten now and no longer used. When I was younger, I remembered the old tales and sometimes hid there when life in the aerie was not kind to me and I wished to be alone. The cave goes back deep into the cliff. I never explored the darkness, so I do not know whether there is an exit behind it or not - but it is a chance - your only one, I think.¡±

    A faint slither of hope shone out and warmed Kira¡¯s despair; but she was not sure if she dared rest her faith on it.

    ¡°The journey is not as far and tiring as going all the way down and back up the cliff,¡± said Harath. ¡°Perhaps I can even glide across, if the currents favour me - so I will be able to take all of you - but it will still need three crossings, and this will take time - the guards are certain toe soon, and there is a danger they might arrive before I have time to fly all of you across - so we must go quickly, yes?¡±

    The nervous, doubtful blood drained from Kira¡¯s hollow body; she tried not to stare at Harath¡¯s uncertain wings.

    But the guards would be there soon.

    Her guilty eyes blinked down at Fyrttu - she did not want the pain and remorse of that again.

    She needed to act.

    ¡°And you¡¯re quite sure you can carry us? I mean, you weren¡¯t injured in the fight or anything?¡±

    ¡°I am fine - let¡¯s go now, yes?¡± Harath replied.

    ¡°But I won¡¯t be strong enough to hold on to your legs - and my friends are still sleeping - so how will you carry us? On your back?¡±

    ¡°No, of course not! How could I move my wings with you on there? I must grip you with my talons, yes?¡±

    Harath lifted her leg and admired her fierce armaments proudly.

    Her keen, incisive ws glinted in the open light.

    ¡°By the great blessing of Skirnam, I am a strong hunter - I do not drop my prey - when I catch a hare, it is as good as eaten, yes?¡±

    Kira shuddered at the thought of being pierced by those sharp, snatching hooks again.

    But perhaps Aldwyn might be able to heal the wounds - once he was fully awake?

    If they managed to get across the ravine and escape¡­

    ¡°But, do not worry,¡± Harath continued, ¡°I will not use the Gift of Skrinam - you will not be put to sleep, yes?¡±

    ¡°But won¡¯t it¡­hurt?¡±

    ¡°Your shoulders will be cut, of course - my talons are fine and sharp - you will have much pain - but you will have a chance to be free. But quickly! We must go now! Or you will stay here and be the flesh of Graath.¡±

    Harath was right.

    She must focus on what needed to be done - there simply was not time to worry about being hurt - or being dropped.

    There was only one possible means of escape - and Harath¡¯s dubious wings were it.

    If this meant badly cut, bleeding and painful shoulders, then that was surely a price worth paying?

    She owed it to the others to at least try.

    ¡°Well, you¡¯d better take Ellis first - get him to safety, thene back for Aldwyn, and I¡¯ll gost - I¡¯m awake - so if the guards arrive while you¡¯re gone, at least I can defend myself - I still have that rock, so I might be able to hold them back for a little while.¡±

    She told her unruly eyes not to look at the guilty body of Fyrttu slumped on the cave floor. But they could not resist the torment of another brief flickering nce.

    ¡°Yes! A fine n!¡± Harath beamed excitedly. ¡°You are a great queen, with the soul of a true warrior! I knew it! The Gift of Skirnam does not lie! You are a queen like me - ready to defend and protect your loyal friends! And you protect your young mate first, yes? The Great God of the Wind will bless you with many fine hatchlings!¡±

    Kira turned her burning cheeks away and busied herself dragging Ellis to the edge of the exit.

    There was no time to be embarrassed - there was still work to do, their lives were still in danger.

    The driving fear of being recaptured pulsed through her veins.

    Ellis and Aldwyn were relying on her now.

    She must repay their kindness.

    She must not to let them down.

    It was up to her now - and they must all trust in the faltering strength of Harath¡¯s wings - whether they liked it or not.

    She manoeuvred Ellis into ce and dangled his limp feet over the cliff edge. She sat his teetering body up, so that Harath could grab his slumped shoulders.

    ¡°Brace yourself, Ellis,¡± she said to his bleary sleeping form, ¡°this will hurt! Harath is going to carry you across to safety. Don¡¯t struggle or you¡¯ll make it more difficult for her.¡±

    Harath hopped excitedly from leg to leg and flexed her shoulders.

    ¡°Please be careful, Harath - don¡¯t just drop him in the cave - he¡¯s still not awake yet.¡±

    ¡°Yes, the Gift is very strong - he will not awake. But I will fly as I did in my youth - swift and strong - then I will return for you my friend - do not fear it, yes? Now stand back - give me a little space for my wings.¡±

    Kira moved away as Harath positioned herself behind Ellis and unfurled her great wings.

    They shimmered in the brightness of the day; their magnificent wingspan glorious with regal lustre. She stretched and fluttered and beat them - even with the noisy blustery wind buffeting in from the mountains, their great powerful sweeping ps filled the cave with huge pulsing swirling eddying currents.

    Kira thrilled to see her new friend so proud, so potent. Her wings seemed so strong and able - surely she could fly; surely she would get them all to safety.

    Harath hopped up onto Ellis¡¯s back.

    Kira winced in prickling sympathy as her talons gripped and ripped into his shoulders

    She told her inquisitive eyes not to look as his reluctant blood began to ooze out; her body shivered and crawled with the uneasy knowledge that it would be her turn soon.

    Unless the guards arrived before Harath could return for her?

    But at least this way, one of them would be safe - Harath would get him to safety - Ellis, who had been so kind and brave to help her against the vers - whose blue eyes had shone out at her on the crumbling path - he deserved a chance to live.

    Her nervous heart thumped in anxious rhythm to Harath¡¯s great wings - ¡°please fly; please be strong: please fly; please be safe.¡±

    Harath heaved and forced a mighty swooshing down-draught as she leant forward and propelled herself, and her precious cargo, out of the bright mouth of the cave.

    This was it!

    Harath must seed; she must fly; she must get them all to safety.

    Her huge wings pped and fought; the mountain winds bashed and blustered; Kira¡¯s staring eyes were shocked with a painful, harrowing anguish as her friends plummeted immediately, uselessly, over the edge of the exit, straight down out of sight, down towards the deadly rocks of the ravine.

    She dashed to the precipitous mouth of the cave to witness their terrible fate; her staring, disbelieving senses could find no trace of them through the misty swirl of the hungry, fatal, empty chasm below.

    She pressed her distraught hands to her mouth, but her strained nerves erupted in a terrified cry.

    ¡°No!¡± they screamed. ¡°Ellis! No!¡±

 44. The Pain of Hope

    The rough wind surged into Kira¡¯s eyes as she urgently scanned down the dizzying jagged grey cliffs for any sign, any hope of Harath or Ellis.

    Her fretful fingers clutched at the coarse cave wall and held her distraught body upright, away from the perilous edge of the chamber.

    Her leaning head teetered and spun with nausea; the terrible precipitous drop wavered and rose up to meet her quivering trembling feet.

    Billowing kes of snow stung into her eyes, but she refused to close them - they must be there, they must be safe - Harath was a great queen - Harath would never let her new friends down.

    She strained her hopeful ears for any clues, but the suffocating wind swallowed her barren hopes.

    They can¡¯t just have fallen and died like that.

    They must be safe.

    They must be somewhere.

    The forlorn acid in her stomach sunk and stabbed through her dismayed core.

    Her pulsing, numbing fears punctured and counted out a few miserable hollow lifetimes, and brought with them the caustic realisation that her friends were gone.

    They hadn¡¯t deserved to die that way, so cruelly, so needlessly, so close to escape and freedom.

    Her despairing eyes gazed out at the deadly rocks of the ravine.

    The world beyond the convent walls seemed so cruel and so random - stripped of any certainty orfort.

    A dark shadow pulsed and flickered through the swirling, tumbling mist.

    Her stubborn eyes blinked and strained and refused to focus as the thin snow stung into them.

    But her heart thudded with an uncertain, needful hope.

    She wiped the melting kes away and stared intently, desperately.

    The shadow pounded and pped its huge brown fog-burdened wings and climbed up out of the swirl of obscuring mountain fret.

    It was Harath!

    And Ellis dangling below her!

    They were alive!

    They were safe!

    Harath beat her magnificent, life-saving wings with strong confident sweeps; she regained a swooping lofty altitude and powered a steady channel through the light drifting swirls of snow, across the valley, towards the roaring water of the far cliff.

    Her flight seemed staggered and slightly ungainly - perhaps Ellis¡¯s suspended weight swung and jerked at her progress?

    Perhaps she was still not quite sure of her wings?

    But they were alive and moving swiftly towards their destination.

    Kira¡¯s tense, apprehensive body rxed and rippled with grateful relief.

    Her expectant eyes watched happily as the rushing water was disturbed and parted by a brief sh of foaming white as Harath crashed through the booming watery curtain.

    They had made it!

    Ellis would be safe, at least.

    Harath shed back out through the torrent of surging water and sped back towards the nest exit.

    The flecks of water sparkled and glinted in the rare mountain light as they bounced and fell from her fine plumage.

    Kira¡¯s nervous pulse told her that she should get Aldwyn into position.

    The guards could stille at any moment.

    They were not safe yet.

    She must focus and do what she could to speed up the escape.

    She dashed over to Aldwyn¡¯s slumbering form and wrestled to manoeuvre his bleary weight closer to the bright, chilly exit of the chamber.

    He murmured dully through his sleep, but the blustering wind stole his words.

    A great shadow flickered and briefly blocked the light from the cliffs; a fierce rushing current of air blustered through the chamber apanied by an abrasive scratch and scuffle of sharp talons on the rugged cave floor.

    ¡°Harath! You got Ellis across! I knew you could do it! I¡¯m so happy!¡± Kira said.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Harath panted, ¡°He was heavy - heavier than the mightiest goat - but I am still blessed with the mighty favour of Skirnam!¡±

    Harath hung her head as she gasped for tired breath.

    Kira dragged Aldwyn into position and dangled his calves over the perilous exit, then pulled him up into a seated posture.

    His woozy frame flopped backwards; his grey head bumped on the hard cave floor.

    ¡°Oh! My poor old bones!¡± his quiet lips murmured; his limbs gently twitched and spasmed.

    ¡°Aldwyn!¡± Kira said. ¡°You¡¯ve got to sit up! We¡¯ve got to escape from here. Don¡¯t worry - my friend will carry you - but please sit up and don¡¯t wriggle!¡±

    Harath twisted her head to one side and blinked down at Aldwyn.

    ¡°This is most strange - another one has broken the Gift. He is old, but his spirit must be strong too, yes?¡±

    ¡°Well, he is old - but he is a great healer,¡± said Kira as she pulled him back up. ¡°Perhaps that¡¯s helped him somehow?¡±

    Harath drew down several more deep breaths, then extended her fine wings.

    ¡°Move back and I will carry him across - then I will return for you, before the guards arrive, yes?¡±

    Kira squinted through the heavy swirling currents which filled the chamber, as Harath beat her wings and hopped up on Aldwyn¡¯s shoulders.

    He gave out a brief slurred groan as her talons grasped at him, before Harath pushed forward and propelled them both over the gaping edge, out of the cave, into the jaws of the ravine.

    They plummeted straight down, below the level of the cave floor, out of Kira¡¯s sight.

    But she knew what to expect; Harath was tired but capable; her concerns no longer doubted her new friend as she ran to the edge and waited faithfully to see them both rise up through the obscure clouds and swoop towards the waterfall.

    It would be her turn next.

    Her apprehensive stomach prickled.

    Her wayward eyes tried not to look down at the deadly drop below.

    It would be fine.

    She would be fine.

    Perhaps her shoulders would hurt, but she would be safe with her friends, away from the dangers of the aerie.

    In the trapped gloomy confines of the convent, the very idea of flying - of even seeing the Surrounder¡¯s vast and glorious sky - had seemed an exciting and impossible dream.

    But now, faced with the sudden awful dizzying reality, and the terrible prospect of certain death if Harath should falter or drop her, flying did not seem such a happy or desirable option.

    Harath darted back out from the waterfall. She was clearly tiring - her wings beat a little slower than before and she tried to glide on the swirling currents; her frame tilted and angled a little more lopsidedly.

    Kira stepped back from the cave opening as the great shadow of her friend filled the mouth of the exit again and obscured the vagrant daylight.

    Harath¡¯s approach seemed ungainly and more awkward than her first return; her silhouette chased into the cave much faster and with less control.

    She stretched her legs down tond; her talons skidded and scraped along the unyielding floor; her juddering legs wobbled and copsed beneath her as she tumbled clumsily into the cave rolled over in a tired ungracious ball of feathers.

    Kira¡¯s worried thoughts jostled and brooded as she moved towards her friend.

    Harathy still and gasped for air.

    She did not seem to be injured - but perhaps it had been too much to expect her to carry all three of them to safety?

    It was only recently she felt she could no longer fly at all.

    But perhaps it would be rude to mention her exhausted condition?

    Or perhaps it would be even ruder still not to show her concern?

    ¡°Harath, are you all right?¡± she asked.

    ¡°I¡­will be¡­fine¡­¡± Harath replied. ¡°The old one¡­was heavier¡­ than he looked.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re doing really well, Harath! I¡¯m so pleased you¡¯re helping us! I hope I won¡¯t be so much of a burden to you.¡±

    Harath drew a deep, rasping breath.

    ¡°You will be the lightest,¡± she gasped, ¡°and yet the most precious.¡±

    Kira smiled faintly.

    The churning wind did not seem quite as cold as before.

    But a nagging sensation of dread continued to prickle at her skin.

    She was not safe yet.

    The guards could arrive at any moment.

    And every wheezing lungful of breath that Harath sucked in was time wasted, time they did not have.

    But her friend was almost immobile from exhaustion - there was no choice but to allow her some respite.

    Kira¡¯s anxious mind resisted the prospect of having to wait through a slow, awkward silence.

    It might embarrass Harath - and would also give her own thoughts the unwee chance to worry about her turn, her chance to escape, her cutting painful shoulders and the deadly drop down the fatal unforgiving cliffs.

    ¡°I was thinking, Harath, will youe with us and escape too? Your own kind have been so rude and mean to you, and don¡¯t even seem to want you here. And you said yourself that you¡¯ve always wanted to see the world of humans.¡±

    ¡°I can not go with you, my young friend,¡± Harath replied, ¡°although all of me wishes it could be so. If your hunters see me, they would know of our nest here in the cliffs, and that will endanger all the Akkipter.¡±

    Harath paused and gulped down some air.

    ¡°And no matter how undeserving they have been, they are my people, and my husband is their king. I often feel human, but I can never forget this.¡±

    ¡°But you can¡¯t just stay here - the others will be furious with you if they find out you helped us escape.¡±

    Harath lent forward and preened a wing feather back into ce.

    ¡°You have been a blessing to me in thesest days - surely the greatest gift from Skirnam - I wish you had been here in my younger times - I am d to feel so proud again and to feel the swift currents beneath my feathers once more.¡±

    Harath wobbled up to her feet.

    Kira¡¯s uneasy eyes tried not to gaze down at Harath¡¯s sharp, piercing talons.

    ¡°And you have been a good friend to me - to all of us - Harath.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I feel the bonds between us. Surely you are a great queen, just as I am. And I cannot deny the truth of what you say - if I stay, they will kill me - but I will die soon anyway - it is my time, it is the way of things.¡±

    Kira¡¯s apprehensive limbs rxed as her fond heart forgot its own anxieties and reflected on the sad truth of her friend¡¯s words.

    It would have been wonderful to have such apanion on her journey back to the convent.

    Perhaps Harath would even have joined her inside?

    She would meet Amber.

    They would all be happy together.

    But perhaps that would be cruel - for Harath never to see her beloved sky again?

    And what would the disapproving nuns say about it?

    Her bitter-sweet thoughts searched for some words of constion.

    Harath jerked her agitated head up.

    ¡°Quiet now! I hear steps approaching. It is the guards! Quickly! Get to the exit!¡±

    The soft,forting spell of Kira¡¯s reverie shattered as she dashed to the open mouth of the cave and threw herself down near the edge.

    She dangled her knees down over the sharp, sheer, precipitous rocks and told her eyes not to look down.

    The billowing wind pushed and pulled at her face and hair and clothes.

    She sucked down a deep breath and braced herself for the pain of Harath¡¯s grip.

    Was Harath ready?

    Had she recovered from the exhaustion of her previous trips?

    Behind her, the eddying currents of Harath¡¯s mighty wings swooshed and buffeted and ripped at the air.

    The fierce, swirling surges forced themselves into Kira¡¯s ears and up her nose.

    But the beating pulse of their rhythm seemed slower and less certain than before.

    A searing invasive pain tore across her tender, vulnerable shoulders.This belongs to N?velDrama.Org: ?.

    She fought to control a painful scream as Harath¡¯s piercing weight pressed down on her back.

    The battering, whirring confusion forced her eyes to close.

    Behind her, the keen squawking screech of a guard echoed from the corridor.

    Harath¡¯s thrusting momentum pushed her forward, over the deadly gaping drop.

    The slow blood cried out from her tormented wounds.

    The floor of the cave rasped away from under her.

    She fell - helpless and panic-stricken against a deep, relentless fearful gravity.

    The jagged, cold mountain air screamed up past her terrified face and deafened her ears.

    She tried to swallow her lurching stomach as it raced up to meet her frantic throat.

    Harath struggled and pped and squawked above her.

    The incisive talons clutched and tore at her agonised shoulders.

    What was wrong?

    Why weren¡¯t they flying?

    Down, down.

    Hurtling down.

    A terrifying, weightless momentum.

    A fragile, merciless gravity.

    Sucking them down past the rushing jaws of the ravine; down to the hungry rocks below.

    How deep was this valley?

    It couldn¡¯t be long now until the ground raced up to meet her; to im her helpless life.

    But perhaps it was better to die this way - a swift and merciful ending - than be torn apart and eaten as the flesh of Graath?

 45. The Fatal Ravine

    Kira¡¯s shoulders wrenched and erupted in agony; she fought back a torturous scream as Harath¡¯s fierce talons tore into her shocked flesh and dragged her forlorn weight upwards.

    Her eyes had been determined not to watch the deadly ground rush up and crush her miserable life, but the sudden excruciating pain forced them open in appalling horror.

    The bitter, unforgiving air stung into them; the delicate unsuspecting kes of snow crashed and bounced into them.

    She blinked and squinted through the unyielding torment; her ears roaring and red; Harath¡¯s powerful,pelling wing-beats pounded a rushing swirl of currents and eddies around her.

    The vast engulfing sky swallowed her deep into the wonderful mysteries of the Surrounder.

    She was flying!

    But her restless shoulders assured her that the clean, swift finality of death would have been far less traumatic.

    They swooped away from the solid mass of cliff and climbed into the open, airless void of the ravine.

    Kira told her wayward eyes not to look down at the prowling danger which waited below; she tried to force them to peer ahead for the safety of the far cliff and the waterfall.

    But they insisted on flickering towards the terrifying swirl of vivid rock and cloud and death in the gaping jaws of the valley below.

    The searing pain and deadly terror overwhelmed her mind.

    Her shoulders jerked and sang out in anguish with every beat of Harath¡¯s wings - they understood how it might feel to be the shredded and tormented flesh of Graath - but her shuddering thoughts also knew that each distressing, pping pulse pulled her closer to safety, closer to the blessed relief of the waterfall, closer to her friends.

    If she could just withstand this bitter agony, if Harath had recovered enough energy and strength to propel them across the open dizzying sky, they would make it, she would be safe.

    Above her, the breathless howl of the wind was pierced by a shrieking cry of rm.

    The smaller, more agile guards from the corridor had caught up to them.

    Kira tried to twist her head to see, but the distress of her shoulders pinned her in ce.

    Was Harath safe?

    Was she?

    Harath screeched in torment; the rhythmic tugging down-draught of her wings faltered and lurched and checked.

    Kira¡¯s anxious thoughts convulsed at the angry, violent sound of the guard¡¯s pping, battering attack - but her bubbling frustration knew she was useless in this situation - there was nothing she could do to help her friend now.

    Her turbulent stomach retched and shuddered as a sudden lunging drop juddered and bounced across her shoulders; her face crumpled in a terror of shrieking pain.

    They veered and swooped from side to side to deflect the angry hacking blows; Harath¡¯s fierce talons flinched deeper into her bloodied shoulders; biting in hard to grasp and secure her dangling body; Kira¡¯s forlorn weight wrenched at the seeping wounds; her damp clinging tunic shredded and soaked with dark blood.

    A second sinister silhouette shed threateningly through the swirling mist at her side and tore towards Kira¡¯s terrified legs.

    The angry guard twisted and contorted its muscr body as it sped in; its fierce talons glinted menacingly in the pale, thin altitude.

    Kira braced herself and tried to dodge the swooping attack, but the guard¡¯s sharp ws hooked and ripped at her vulnerable flesh; the raging curve of the guard¡¯s powerful beak shed and stabbed and snapped.

    Kira cried out through hercerating pain; she reached up in tormented defiance of her shoulders and grasped at Harath¡¯s legs, desperate to secure her trembling, tumbling weight.

    Sheshed and kicked at the huge bird as hard as she dare; her body swung in agonising jolts; her shoulders wept through their harrowing agony.All content ? N/.?vel/Dr/ama.Org.

    Her boot thumped a heavy, bruising blow at the guard, who wheeled away with a shrill embittered screech, leaving a deep oozing wound gashed across Kira¡¯s opened thigh.

    She tried to adjust her painful weight; her fingers grasped at the leathery skin of Harath¡¯s legs, but slipped and slithered in the thick unexpected blood that dripped down on them.

    Harath was wounded too.

    Kira¡¯s bleak, caustic thoughts reeled and unravelled.

    Was Harath badly hurt?

    Would they still make it across the valley?

    Harath was already exhausted from her previous journeys - would she have enough energy left to prevent them from plummeting down to their horrifying deaths?

    In mid-air, Harath couldn¡¯t make her bigger size and fighting strength count - especially burdened with the extra weight of a human passenger.

    Kira¡¯s anxious eyes nced towards the far cliff - they were more than half-way there - but out-numbered and out-manoeuvred, they would never be able to reach the rumbling safety of the waterfall.

    Her empty stomach sank with the raw, stark realisation.

    They could not continue like this - they would be picked off as easy prey for the vicious aggression of the two belligerent guards.

    ¡°I can¡¯t hold them off!¡± Harath shouted down. ¡°I need my talons. We won¡¯t make it.¡±

    ¡°Fight them, Harath!¡± Kira bellowed back up through the impossible wind. ¡°Do whatever you need to do! Don¡¯t worry about me!¡±

    ¡°Yes, my queen, I obey!¡± Harath replied.

    The two swift, dark menacing forms wheeled off and swooped in again.

    One plunged down from above, while the second marauded in from a lower trajectory.

    The imminent vulnerability of her legs flooded through Kira¡¯s startled body.

    Her skin bristled with expectant danger; she winced and braced herself for the onught.

    Kira¡¯s right shoulder was suddenly impaled in an intense, numbing crush. Harath¡¯s talons tightened their determined grip; the sharp ws closed and met in the middle of Kira¡¯s wilting limb; they rasped at her fragile bones; her entire skeleton jarred with every powerful beating pulse of Harath¡¯s great wings.

    Her left shoulder raked in wriggling, oozing pain as Harath¡¯s thick tapered talons slithered out of the seeping wounds and released their tortuous grip.

    Her limp, dangling body jolted and sank to the right; the excruciating burden on her tormented shoulder doubled.

    The deadly gravity of the fierce rocks beneath reached up, determined to drag her down to her death.

    Perhaps this was it?

    Surely she would be dropped and die?

    But at least Harath would have a chance.

    The unrelenting rush of windshed at her face; the roar of the waterfall grew louder.

    The highest guard darted down and closed in.

    Kira prepared to be weed into the arms of the Surrounder; her entire wretched frame spasmed and jarred with a terrifying and excruciating yank; her world reversed suddenly and sickeningly; Harath rolled over and aimed her hefty talon up in a powerful, well-timed strike.

    Kira¡¯s rmed core spun round to join the rest of her churning body; her nauseous eyes witnessed a flurry of feathers ripped from the guard¡¯s leading wing; the pitiful horror that extended across her caprine face.

    The guard screeched hideously and pped her despairing wings as she spiralled down helplessly and disappeared into the jagged mists and swirling rocks below.

    The second guard whistled past Kira¡¯s rotating tumbling legs with an angry screech which echoed across the ravine; the sharp, roaring draught of her failed attack sted into Kira¡¯s face.

    She tried hard to catch her startled breath as the guard hissed past and circled off to attack from a different angle.

    Her queasy innards lurched again as Harath whirred back over upright and pulled hard for the far cliff.

    The booming force of the waterfall grew louder; the stinging air bit harder into her face; a frantic surging effort of speed under the straining canopy of Harath¡¯s majestic wingspan brought her closer to the far cliff, closer to safety.

    Hercerated shoulder jarred and crunched; her aching, miserable bones and sinews cried out with every dragging throb of Harath¡¯s wings.

    Her desperate heart lunged with frustrating hope.

    They were close.

    They might get there.

    The guard swooped and darted back towards them, low and hard and fast.

    The grey cliff face loomed before them.

    The booming water tumbled and thundered over a toothed rocky outcrop.

    Harath¡¯s blood seeped down through Kira¡¯s fingers and onto her head; her body trembled and pulsed with straining effort.

    The upromising guard shed in through the swirling mist andunched herself at them for a lethal strike.

    Harath gave out a painful, frustrated shriek which rent the valley air in two.

    Kira¡¯s lurching, wrenching weight suddenly swung high and backwards; the talons ripped from her shredded shoulder as she was tossed violently forward. She screamed as she soared high and helplessly over the jagged rocks, towards the furious water, with only the vacuous air holding her aloft.

    Behind her, a squalling sickening thud echoed as the guard cannoned mercilessly into her despairing friend.

    Her hollow heart jabbed in fear.

    The fatal ravine drifted beneath her; its ravenous gravity growled.

    Surely she would die.

    The fierce, drenching spray rushed up at her; she closed her eyes tight in terror.

    Her distressed dis-oriented senses crashed into the icy, thundering wall of water.

    The angry foaming, shifting sheet of liquid tried its best to drag her down the cliff to her dismal death, but the violence of her momentum drove her through the heavy, unwanted water; it choked at her throat and dashed its way up her nose as she careered through into the echoing darkness of the cave beyond.

    She pressed her blind feet outwards, hoping to break her fall.

    A sharp, jarring pain tore up through her leg as her ankle struck a solid surface and snapped beneath her tumbling weight; the fractured agony shattered up through her shocked body.

    For a brief tormented instant her elbows and body collided with something softer that smelt of Aldwyn, before the ugly waves of pain convulsed through her traumatised frame and engulfed her howling mind in writhing agony.

    A cold shuddering darkness overtook her as the world fell away - distant and faint and ck.

 46. The One-Eyed Walrus

    Gimel¡¯s fingers rubbed reluctantly into the cold coin as he handed it over.

    It was hisst one - the hastily arranged escape had not given him enough time to bring luggage or wealth with him, and the merchant sailors had taken what little he carried to keep their eyes closed and their mouths shut.

    But desperation and hunger will drive a man to spend, however unwisely - the same hunger and desperation which had driven him into a ragged dock-side hovel like this.

    ¡°A gold florin?¡± said the bartender as he inspected the coin suspiciously. ¡°Hmm, don¡¯t get to see many of them these days. I see you¡¯re not from around here, mister.¡±

    ¡°My money is as good as anyone¡¯s,¡± Gimel replied.

    ¡°True enough,¡± the bartender said, as he pocketed the money and put a tray of food down on the rough wooden table.

    Gimel cautiously took in his fellow patrons of ¡°The One-eyed Walrus¡±: the dim interior harboured a few shady old mariners who sat sucking their pipes at the bar, filling the air with rich blue plumes of smoke - but they seemed either too drunk, or too sensible, to pry into other peoples¡¯ business.

    No-one would recognise him here - he was far enough away from home for that.

    He unwrapped the drab muffling scarf tied up around his head that had sheltered his face from unwee eyes and protected his ears from the bitter winds which blustered across this new, northerlynd.

    The feeble crackle of logs from the firece did little to reassure him that they could ward off the autumn chill; but the smell of the wood smoke mingled with the sea-air, and the muddy tobo, and the heavy acrid scent of tar which had been used to waterproof what was left of the ramshackle roof, and disguised the stale aroma of his food.

    From the little he had seen, this was a strange country - where trees grew and wood was plentiful - but such precious a material would never be used so wastefully in his homnd.

    And here the ground was brown and solid - it did not shift at the will of the wind gods. Yet its solidity was surrounded by water - a water which did not wash it away.

    Moreover, the water seemed angry and rushed white and foaming at thend, only to crash into it and fall back, defeated.

    Surely, this could only be a bad omen.

    He picked up the greasy meat and stuffed a handful into his mouth.

    His tongue convulsed and his eyes watered at the rancid, bitter taste.

    Another bad omen.

    He coughed and nearly spat it back out, but he had paid for it with hisst coin and needed the nourishment.

    Probably the meat was more than a few days old; he hoped not all the food in thisnd would taste so foul.

    The rough wooden stool felt awkward beneath him; his legs still ached after the long journey, fromck of use and the cramped hiding ce beneath the deck; it had felt good to stretch and hear the sound of his boots striking thending-jetty firmly.

    But after several days of boat-travel, even the dry ground beneath him still seemed to rock and sway with the motion of the merchant¡¯s vessel. And the swill they had tried to feed him on board would have killed a healthy goat.

    But, no matter how unpleasant the tavern food, his weakened body craved a meal, and his throat was in sore need of a drink to remove the worst of the salt-air that had burned a thirst down deep into his lungs.

    He chewed at the meat and pulled his coat a little closer around him.

    And now his final coin was gone.

    He would have to earn a living if he was to survive.

    It was a novel idea to one from his elevated status - but perhaps it would be a wee experience - a test of his nature and resolve.

    And if its surface was unweing cold and strange, thend of Evrue was still a good choice - travellers had told that magikants were respected here, and of course, the Great Library was here too.

    He could travel there.

    Perhaps the people of the Library would respect his abilities and knowledge?

    And while he was waiting for news, and his chance to strike revenge at the treacherous snake Ilgar, he might even learn something new from their renowned collection of scrolls.

    He might even find work there, or earn his living as a healer or some-such?

    But wielding the magik should be kept as quiet as possible for now, to avoid raising suspicions as to his true identity; no one should recognise him there, or get word to the assassins that Ilgar was sure to send.

    He was not naive enough to think he was safe - he was a threat while he was still alive.

    His jaws did their best to chew and digest the badly prepared food; his mind kept running over the events of thest few weeks - the same questions that had been troubling him on his enforced journey kept resurfacing.

    Ilgar, for all his prowess as a warrior, did not have the intelligence or cunning to mount such a daring takeover; someone else had to be behind it.

    But who?

    And where did they get the gold from to bribe their way to the throne? It would have been an expensive business, and no easy feat toe by such an amount of ready coin. He had heard of no recent raiding parties who had managed to steal as much gold as this, and the pirates who tormented the trading ships had no interest in securing an empire onnd.

    Further, who would prosper by putting Ilgar on the throne?

    Ilgar himself certainly, in the short term; but someone else must be pulling such well-constructed strings, someone who understood the value of subtlety and patience, someone with more brain than brawn. Perhaps his cousin, Dis?

    Or one of the warlords in the west who had been discontented to share their tribute with his brother?

    But this had always been the custom of his people and had gone on begrudgingly for as long as memory could hold - so why challenge it now?

    Such a puzzle had kept him from being bored through the long cramped days, and kept his mind from dwelling on the one thing he did not want to keep at the foremost of his thoughts, the sight which had kept him awake at night and burned itself into his deepest dreams and his darkest thoughts of vengeance - his brother¡¯s bloodied head staring back nkly at him from the troubled ground.

    ¡°Do you mind if I join you here?¡±

    The voice of a lean man, with afortable gait and a well-cut coat, who stood next to his table, interrupted his musings.

    He had allowed his contemtions to overtake his reality - he had disregarded the teachings of Hornuz.

    Perhaps the voyage had taken more out of him than he had realised?

    Perhaps the simple physical effort required to swallow and digest his awful food had distracted him?

    Other chairs in the dpidated tavern were empty.

    Why would the stranger want to sit there, with him?

    The stranger at least gave the outward appearance of being friendly - perhaps too friendly - but from the few steps he had taken around the table to the vacant chair, it did not seem that he was strong, or skilful enough, to be a real threat in a fight.

    Gimel kept chewing.

    Beneath his ck close-fitting overcoat, the stranger wore some sort of religious uniform, and carried a symbol of the Church of Evrue around his neck.

    Back in the warmth and luxury of his tent, the passing travellers had told him of such signs, and such men.

    ¡°Forgive me friend,¡± said the stranger as he pulled out the chair and positioned himself down at the table, ¡°but I couldn¡¯t help overhearing the tavern owner say that you might be from Pharit? It¡¯s a ce that had long fascinated me - I even travelled there myself once, briefly, on official Church business; but the people there did not take to our religion - the only god they trusted was their knife.¡±

    Gimel continued to attack his food.

    The stranger was a garrulous fool and could wait - the food was needed now.

    ¡°It seems there has been some most unfortunate business there recently,¡± the man continued. ¡°I do hope that you were not caught up in it?¡±

    Did the stranger know more than he was letting on?

    Perhaps even his true identity?

    ¡°News travels fast in these parts, I see,¡± said Gimel nkly between mouthfuls.

    ¡°Such momentous events as a new king ascending the throne are difficult to keep quiet - and we in the Church do like to keep abreast of thetest developments in the world. Oh, but do forgive me! I have not introduced myself - my name is brother Theodus - I¡¯m a cleric in the port here.¡±

    The stranger removed a tight-fitting glove; it was leather, but would offer no protection in battle; a mere useless ornament that would not stop the steel of Urdon, much less a knife from Pawsh.

    The man held out a limp hand across the table.

    Gimel looked at it briefly, then reached to his te for what he hoped was some sort of leg or drumstick. The meat, it seemed, was probably some sort of sea-bird or gull that the cook had managed to catch and strangle a few days ago on the jetty outside.

    As he reached out for his food, the gold ring on his index finger caught the glimmer of the sooty ckmps and glinted in the pale light.

    The cleric withdrew his hand.

    ¡°Oh! What a charming piece of jewellery you have!¡± he said. ¡°I noticed one just like it on my travels in your country. I seem to remember it had something to do with the ruling royal family? Could that be right? Or does my memory deceive me?¡±

    The colour drained from Gimel¡¯s cheeks; anxious pins prickled across his skin.

    How could he have been so stupid or so careless?

    Had his hunger made him such a simpleton?

    ¡°You have a sharp eye, my friend,¡± replied Gimel through a full mouth. He pulled his hand back and buried it in the folds of his ragged sleeves.

    He slowed his breathing and eased his stool silently away from the table to give himself more room; his muscles tensed in preparation for an attack.

    But the cleric¡¯s easy and rxed smile was mirrored by his body; he did not flinch or alter his posture in readiness for a fight.

    ¡°Oh, forgive me! I did not mean to offend or intrude!¡± he said with a reassuring smile. ¡°It¡¯s just that I remember so fondly a little of your ways and customs from my time in your country.¡±

    ¡°Then you will know it is our custom not to put our noses into ces they have not been invited,¡± Gimel replied as he darted a stern look back across the table.

    ¡°Yes, yes, just so!¡± the cheery cleric continued. ¡°It¡¯s just that I wanted to help and assist you.¡±

    Gimel swallowed some of the dark wine.This belongs to N?velDrama.Org: ?.

    Its rough, bitter tannins offended his tongue, but it was liquid, and his raw throat weed it.

    He returned to the unappetising food, but his wary eyes flickered to the stranger.

    ¡°If you don¡¯t mind me asking,¡± the cleric continued, ¡°I wondered where you might be travelling to - for you surely can¡¯t mean to stay in such a horror-forsaken dump as this.¡±

    The stranger indicated the decrepit, rotten shack around them.

    ¡°It can be a difficult ce for foreigners here,¡± he continued. ¡°Perhaps you already have someone to stay with here? It can be a very expensive ce for those without friends, as you will find out.¡±

    The insipid oily food had congealed around the edges of Gimel¡¯s te. But he had paid for it, and he could not guarantee when he might eat again.

    ¡°I have many contacts across this country,¡± the cleric said. ¡°I would be d to offer you amodation with one of them as a gesture of hospitality and a wee to my country.¡±

    ¡°Most generous I¡¯m sure,¡± said Gimel.

    Could the stranger be trusted?

    Should he give away his ns?

    Free amodation would be difficult to turn down in such a harsh, coldnd, especially to one with no coins of his own.

    ¡°I intend to travel to the Library at Burisdon,¡± he said. ¡°I have heard of its many wonders, and wish to see it for myself.¡±

    Gimel finished thest scraps from his te and licked the grease from his thumb.

    ¡°Really?¡± said the cleric. ¡°Well then, our meeting here really is most fortuitous, for I happen to have a very good friend there, and I¡¯m sure he would be happy to offer you amodation. You should seek him out when you arrive and you will be made most wee. He is a very worthy and most learned man, who is always keen to help refugees and those less fortunate than himself - to learn from them, and understand new and different cultures to our own. Please, ept this letter of introduction from me.¡±

    The cleric passed a small envelope across the table.

    ¡°This will guide you to my learned friend, and grant you passage to his quarters.¡±

    ¡°And what is your friend called?¡± asked Gimel.

    ¡°His name is Senior Brother Caldor,¡± said the cleric.

 47. Headache

    ¡°Oh! My poor old bones!¡± Aldwyn groaned.

    A dull throb gripped him tightly behind his eyes and told him he had been concussed. A stinging pain rang out from the back of his head.

    He stretched up a tentative hand to assess any damage to his skull.

    Arge, bruising lump meant there had obviously been an impact of some sort, but no apparent fracture.

    His probing fingers searched further across his tender scalp. A patch at the side, above his left temple, felt wet and slimy. Some of the thick, oozy substance had dried and matted into his hair.

    Surely, it must be blood?

    He touched his lips and tasted - but did not encounter the dry metallic sourness he expected.

    He forced his regretful eyes open and tried to look at his hand.

    An unending dark prevented him from seeing anything.

    Perhaps the impact had detached his optic nerve?

    No - he was not blind - he could sense dim shadows and outlines.

    A rounded, musty smell of damp pervaded.

    He tried to focus and assess the ckness of his surroundings - the cold hardness of a rock floor beneath him; the close nk craggy walls; the shallow echo of his own breath - clearly he was in a cave of some sort.

    He inhaled deeply and took his time to gather his scattered senses and be sure of the rest of his aching body and limbs.

    He studied the damp on his fingertips once more. Against the dark light-less background, a blur of glowing purple-blue slowly came into focus.

    Yes, a cave; the memory wriggled at the back of his mind; a cave and a waterfall; the girl flung towards him; a giant eagle of some sort; he had been thrown backwards to the wall and must have hit his head.

    He propped himself up doubtfully against the hard, damp surface behind him and examined his fingers again, his eyes now more certain of themselves and their surroundings.

    Yes, a pale phosphorescent glow of purple and blue; smooth and slippery between his inquisitive fingers. Most likely a luminescent algae of some sort, living in the damp of the cave. He had read of such things before, but had never encountered such a phenomenon.

    His scrambled senses eased into lucidity and ustomed themselves to the dim interior. Most of the cave seemed to be coated in the strange algae, so that the dark hollow of rock radiated with a faint blue light; vague and shadowy - but just enough to see by; its soft, calmingpany assured and mellowed his troubled memories and allowed him to gather his scattered thoughts

    Had he been flying?

    A giant bird of some fantastical dream?

    He touched the shuddering pain in his shoulders. His clothes were shredded and bloodied, but the trauma was bearable.

    w marks of some description?

    Yes, flying, that was it.

    A great bird was carrying the girl.

    It crashed heavily into the cliff above them.

    A dreadful, terrifying, living rumble of shrieking feathers and thunderous boulders rained down; his life was certain to end, crushed by the fierce anger of the crumbling mountain; the foundations of the dark ground shook and trembled; the crashing rocks had sealed the cave.

    The waterfall foaming and tumbling, the girl falling through it.

    Yes, the girl.

    What was it he must remember?

    How could he ever be positive it was true?

    The uncertain darkness of his mind gnawed uneasily at him.

    A dull, roaring rush filled his ears and head.

    Perhaps it was the result of the concussion?

    No - more likely it was the waterfall, shut out by the fearful avnche of rocks, but still thundering on its turbulent course as it had done for undisturbed eons.

    But the others?

    Ellis?

    The girl?

    His bleary eyes scanned through the gloom; the dim purple outline of the girly crumpled in an ungainly heap not far from his legs, partially buried under dozens of small rocks and fragments which piled up and littered the cave floor.

    Her left foot was twisted round at an awkward, unnatural angle. Clearly, the ankle or lower tibia must be broken.

    The pebbles ttered under him as he forced his aching body to crawl towards her; their dry ripple echoed and bounced shallowly against the inside of the cave.

    He reached the girl and cleared away some of the debris to better appraise the situation.

    He felt for a pulse - it was regr but weak - the patient was alive.

    She was breathing steadily, but unconscious.

    It would be best to heal her now before the agony of her injury woke her.

    His fingers examined for other problems.

    Her thigh was gashed; her clothes were bloodied and ripped at the shoulders - no doubt as a result of the eagle holding her - the cuts would also require his attention - if his own pain was anything to go by - but they were not urgent.

    Perhaps Ellis had been injured in the crushing maelstrom of rocks?

    His needs may be more pressing and vital?

    He peered through the vague light, across to the other side of the rubble-strewn floor. The boy seemed unharmed, and the steady rhythm of his breathing demonstrated he was not in immediate danger.

    He reached down for the girl¡¯s legs; her heartbeat was slow and subdued. The break was an ugly one, surrounded by a growing welt of swollen bruising, but it was not apound fracture. She would make a full recovery, but he must work now for the best results.

    He pulled the tattered sleeves up on the remnants of his robe, and exposed his forearms to the dimness of the cave.

    He settled and slowed his mind into a deep and focused immersion; he murmured the ageless incantation; no need to move his mouth above a faint, arcane whisper.

    The living markings, dormant beneath the skin of his limbs, flickered and throbbed with a familiar blue glow.

    He felt for a deeper focus and increased the fervour of his words, drawing out the beauty and intensity of the colourful dance. The shimmering symbols became dazzling and wondrous against the near darkness of the cave, throwing stretched and elongated shadows across the flickering walls and his patient.

    He grasped the girl¡¯s damaged leg in one confident hand and ced the other softly over her foot.

    He emptied his eyes of the meaningless illusions of this world and reached down deeper, slower, into reality and the writhing focus of his magik.

    He sensed the living glyphs swirl and snake their way along the length of his arms towards his fingertips; the two pulsing bundles of light joined to form a single ball of dancing blue; his oldest and most intimatepanion breathed and contorted in time to his urgent incantation; it hovered above the wretched ankle of the girl.

    The fragile bones of his young patient began to stir beneath his fingers, the talus, the navicr, melding and moving; the shattered shards of the fib searching for each other, knitting and fusing into one.

    With their knowing guidance, he gently grasped the girl¡¯s foot and manipted it around to face its natural direction; it clicked into position; the girl murmured and stirred uneasily in her sleep, but did not rouse.

    Her skin, too, required his attention; he sank deeper into a fierce concentration; the effort and exertion pulled at him and stretched his thoughts down further into the origin of his magik; a light sheen of sweat seeped and trickled across his forehead.

    The soft flesh of the girl¡¯s dermis wriggled and regenerated; it squirmed and twisted in a gentle rippling flux, covering her wounds and scratches, healing the deep bruises and contusions that infected her body.

    A series of pale purple-blue markings seemed to glow and throb around her legs, deep in the vulnerable flesh of her shins.

    Presumably some of the luminous algae had rubbed off onto her when shended in the cave and had formed into curious patterns of streaks and smudges.

    Aldwyn persisted and absorbed himself into the profound intensity of his thoughts; the girl¡¯s torn skin reformed and stretched and healed; the smeared, blurred blue markings on her legs seemed to respond to his ancient words with a puzzling increase in lucidity and colour, until they too seemed to swirl and throb as if beating in resonance to the calling of his incantations.

    Perhaps the vital living algae could sense the wisdom of his words?

    A troubling image, profound with intricate pulsing patterns and symbols, seemed to sing out to the depths of his focus; it carried the shadow of a distant memory - but one whose cut was still fresh.

    But he must concentrate; he must heal the patient

    He changed his attention to the torn flesh of the patient¡¯s shoulders; her damaged skin rippled and fluctuated. One of the girl¡¯s sleeves had ridden up; her bare forearm glowed and shifted in hues of pale blue and purple; no doubt the blotches and stains of the algae again

    But steadily, through the smudges and smears, a deeper, more insistent shade stabbed and pierced into the depths of his thoughts; a twisted, writhing design of markings and symbols, pulsing in a living sympathy of vibrations, animated by the call of his words; incandescent; etched somewhere beyond his waking memory; ring; dissonant; resonating deep behind his disquieted mind - just as it had done that day back in his cottage.

    Yes, his old cottage.

    His quiet life, away from the problems of the world.

    Must it all be lost?

    That pattern; that image; it had refused to settle before, but now it seemed ready to make itself seen; to finally fall out into the light where his mind could grasp it and make sense of it; that puzzling sifting dream.

    He fought hard to keep his focus.

    His mind seemed so distant and clouded.

    Perhaps it was the after-effects of his concussion?

    Or perhaps somehow the result of flying with that eagle?

    Or the weariness of his ageing body as it began to lose its lonely fight against the star-blight?

    He was an old fool; going senile; all those years of grinding herbs and wielding the Healing Magik had taken their toll on his addled, ancient mind; once so sharp and keen and flexible.

    And yet - that pattern of symbols, vibrating behind his tired eyes - it seemed so familiar; buried down and lost somewhere, deep inside the creases of his folded memory.

    If only he could think.

    If only he could remember.

    But the patient muste first - there would be timeter to worry about these visions and hallucinations and his own befuddled infirmities.All content ? N/.?vel/Dr/ama.Org.

    The girl kicked out in her troubled sleep and murmured to herself, but remained oblivious to the cave and the world; her skin closed and repaired; he finished his curative touches and stilled his words.

    The boy too needed his attention - his shoulders were cut just like the others, no doubt from that eagle¡¯s talons. A sedative of some description coursed through his system; but otherwise, his skin soon healed, and he seemed unharmed and untouched by the ordeal.

    Aldwyn breathed heavily and sank back against the wall of the cave. His patients were out of any danger; they would heal nicely. He may be old, but he still knew his business.

    His stomach growled; he wiped the trickles of sweat from his brow. He was hungry and needed a drink of water; he peered around the dim interior - but could see nothing that might serve.

    The world was a cold andfort-less ce - but he knew that already - he had learnt it the hard way.

    It would not shield him or offer him the soothing ease of his cottage - it was savage and cruel, and it took without ever giving.

    Only the boy; the constion of the boy; of knowing he could help and pass on his knowledge, his craft, not all would be lost of him to this world.

    His heavy eyes closed; but his weary mind was haunted by the patterns projected by the girl - swirling, writhing, so alive, they still seemed to light up the dark of the cave

    What was it he needed to remember?

    His stubborn old brain would need time to think; he must give it his sternest consideration.

    But for now, after all the exertions of healing, an irresistible burden of sleep called out to him.

 48. A Burial

    Kira¡¯s body shuddered and ached as she forced her reluctant eyes to open. Cold, wet rocks surrounded her and seemed determined to poke and prod at every ufortable ce and angle in her tender frame they could find - back, ribs and legs - it didn¡¯t seem to matter to them how sore or bruised she was.

    Her woozy head didn¡¯t seem to be properly attached to the rest of her fragile body, and a damp, musty smell of mould forced itself into her unwilling nostrils; its old sourness even lingered on her numbed lips.

    An all enfolding bleak darkness slowly gave way to a faint purple glow as her eyes ustomed themselves to her surroundings and began to focus. She tried to sit up, but her body refused to obey her; her legs kicked out and must have dislodged several loose stones, which ttered away from her with a dry rippling echo. The bracing sound bounced around the cave and broke through the dull rushing, roaring noise which filled her ears.

    ¡°Oh! You¡¯re awake!¡±

    She recognised Ellis¡¯s voice but couldn¡¯t lift her head to see him.Copyright N?v/el/Dra/ma.Org.

    ¡°Good! You¡¯ve been out for quite a while - I was getting worried - I mean we both were - I mean Aldwyn and me.¡±

    The friendly sound of his concern almost coaxed a smile from her sore face, but the throbbing pain across her jaws prevented it.

    Clearly, he had survived the ordeal of the poison and the perilous flight into the cave. Her breathing rxed and came a little easier with the knowledge he was safe.

    She rubbed her head to check it was still in its rightful ce and, encouraged by her findings, tried again to sit up, with more sess than previously.

    The shifting pebbles rattled and reverberated away from her as she propped herself up and looked around.

    Through the dim eerie glow, the low, tight hollow of the cave revealed itself. She was positioned amidst a bed of rubble and debris which sprayed out and covered almost the entire floor. Behind her, a huge mound of boulders had piled up and blocked off what she guessed must have been the entrance under the waterfall, leaving no obvious way out and blocking any clear source of light into the rocky chamber - and yet, across the gloomy, squat interior, her keen eyes were still able to pick out the shadowy outlines of herpanions.

    ¡°What¡¯s this strange purple stuff?¡± she asked, her voice bounced back at her in a sharp, shallow echo.

    ¡°It appears to be some form of bio-luminescent algae,¡± Aldwyn informed her. ¡°Perhaps of the genus scintinllen,¡± he suggested. ¡°The spray from the waterfall must have provided enough moisture for it to thrive in here - there are very few ces in the world where Nature will not inhabit and bloom if it is only given the chance.¡±

    It was pleasant to hear Aldwyn¡¯s exacting tones too, above the muffled thunder of the angry water outside. If he had already studied and analysed the natural environment around him, there was clearly nothing wrong with him either.

    ¡°So we all made it to the cave, then? Is anyone hurt?¡± she asked into the eerie purple glow.

    ¡°Well, I feel like I¡¯ve been run over by old master Pilton¡¯s heaviest wagon,¡± said Ellis, ¡°but I¡¯ll survive.¡±

    ¡°Yes, your shoulders were cut from being carried, and you were infected by some sort of poison, but you¡¯ll be fine.¡± Aldwyn assured him. ¡°And how are you, young Kira?¡± he continued. ¡°Is your ankle functioning properly?¡±

    ¡°It seems fine - still a little tender. I hardly remember how it happened. I just remember being thrown into the cave through the waterfall - I think I saw you Aldwyn, and then my leg¡­¡±

    ¡°Yes, it looked quite a nasty one,¡± said Aldwyn. ¡°It will be sore for a while, but it mended in a satisfactory manner.¡±

    ¡°Oh, thank you. But did you see what happened to my friend, Harath? The one who carried us here to the cave?¡±

    ¡°Well, when Inded in here, I went back to the entrance to see if I could assist you - from what I could see, through the water, one of the other birds rammed into her, just above the waterfall ledge. They both mmed hard into the mountainside - there was an almighty thud and then it felt like the entire cliff-face came crashing down. Probably the rock structure had been weakened by centuries of water erosion. The whole mountain began to rumble and vibrate - I feared we would all be killed - crushed beneath the tumbling rocks - then younded almost on top of me, I fell backward and seem to have hit my head, and that was thest I remember. So I wasn¡¯t able to see what happened to your friend, but judging from the boulders and rubble thatnded in this ce, it was very lucky that any of us survived at all.¡±

    Kira rubbed and stretched her cramped limbs back to life; her eyes slowly ustomed themselves to the unusual purple-blue glow; her ears hummed with the whistling roar of the waterfall trapped beyond the rocks outside.

    Ellis and Aldwyn were safe enough in the damp, ufortable cave - but Harath?

    What had be of her brave friend?

    A friend who had risked her own safety to save them.

    Without the burden of a human to carry, did she manage to get away from the guards?

    And how would she survive on her own, away from the aerie?

    Her keen eyes scoured the cave interior for any clues as to Harath¡¯s whereabouts or fate.

    Across on the other side of the entrance, her curiosity was provoked by some softer, rounded silhouettes, poking out through the sharp angles of the heavy pile of dislodged boulders.

    She turned onto her front and crawled towards the unusual mound; the rough stones, strewn across the cave floor, bit into her knees as they shifted and ttered beneath her. She winced and thought about standing up to avoid the crunching, irritating pain, but the stinging memory of her snapped ankle, and the low, stooping height of the grotto¡¯s ceiling, extinguished this option.

    Her mind flooded with troubled thoughts of Harath - how brave she had been; her concerns forced her forward, but an overwhelming anxious dread also tried to hold her back.

    Kira scrunched closer; the strange shadows of the dim purple glow fragmented and illuminated as she moved. A proud, defiant contour stuck out from under the terrible weight of rock. She sped her hand to her mouth - a shuddering recognition of the twisted and mangled curves, the sheen, the shapes and colours stabbed at her - it was Harath¡¯s wing - and her brave friend must be crushed and entombed beneath the immovable, unfeeling mass of stone and rubble.

    Her distraught mind reeled and stung; it convulsed with vivid horror, and shock, and grief.

    She had met the unpleasant face of Death before - but her heart had not shattered at the demise of her schoolmates - she knew that her days would not be empty without them - she would not miss their selfish and uncaring thoughtlessness.

    But Harath - a brave protective friend who had risked her own life to save the humans she hardly knew - who had spoken to her so wisely and with such warmth in her lonely prison - how could she bear such a burden of unhappiness? How could her loss be measured or understood?

    She reached out a gentle hand and stroked the plumage of her friend; her feathers at once soft and strong; so proud, and now so sorrowful.

    Perhaps she had still hoped to find a living pulse beating through them?

    Her dissonant mind still clutched at sce andfort - the precious memories of her vibrant friend - but it sunk and dismayed and knew that Harath could not possibly have survived under such a catastrophe of fractious rock.

    Several smaller feathers had been ripped out by the crushingndslide, andy twisted and useless on the damp cave floor.

    Kira picked one up and fondled it across her mourning cheek; she pressed it to her lips, then slipped it silently inside the breast of her tunic - the courage of her dear friend would stay close to her forever.

    Outside, only the lonely roar of the waterfall broke the silence of her sorrow.

    She did not know what to do or how to proceed; her legs no longer noticed the pain of kneeling. It didn¡¯t seem right just to leave Harath lying there like that - unattended, unloved, her wing protruding at a cruel, unfeeling angle.

    She gently folded and patted her dear friend¡¯s limb back into a more natural andfortable resting position. She picked up some of the smaller, more manageable rocks, and tenderly mounded them up, covering her departed friend with a makeshift cairn.

    ¡°I¡¯m very sorry for your friend,¡± said Ellis.

    The closeness of his voice shocked her back to the dim, sorrowful cave.

    ¡°From what Aldwyn has told me, she gave her life to save us. I¡¯m sure she didn¡¯t deserve to die like this.¡±

    ¡°No. She didn¡¯t.¡± Kira replied softly. ¡°But at least she didn¡¯t die alone and afraid on the mountainside. The others in her nest were going to abandon her and leave her to starve; but, instead of following their customs and traditions, she chose to sacrifice her own life to help her friends - as a true queen should. Of course, you didn¡¯t know her properly - you were still drugged - but in many ways she was the most human of anyone I¡¯ve met since I left the convent - she was probably a good deal more human than some of those inside the convent walls too! Perhaps she would have been happy and proud to be described like that. That¡¯s how I shall remember her, anyway.¡±

    Kira picked up another stone and ced it carefully on the mound. Ellis lifted a nearby rock and moved towards the cairn.

    ¡°No - please let me do it,¡± said Kira quietly. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s just something I feel I need to do alone - it¡¯s something I owe her - to try and pay back the debt of her care to us.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± said Ellis. He put the rock back down and moved away a respectful distance.

    The barren rocks seemed so heartless and cold as they covered the soft lustre of Harath¡¯s feathers - but what else could she do?

    Should she say something?

    A prayer she had learnt in the convent, perhaps?

    But that didn¡¯t seem to do - and she couldn¡¯t really think of any just at that moment.

    She knelt in the damp, solemn stillness of the cave; her thoughts wandered and lost themselves in the strange, eerie glow and the closeness of its reflecting echoes.

    From his seated position, propped up against the back wall, Aldwyn eventually broke the silence.

    ¡°Well, I too am very sorry about your friend - especially one who had helped us so kindly. But perhaps now is the time to remind you both that our own fate is still far from certain and we may simply have exchanged one danger for another.¡±

    Kira shuffled around to look at him through the bereaved darkness.

    ¡°We must hope that there is another way out of this cave,¡± he continued, ¡°or your friend¡¯s sacrifice may have been in vain - and we might even suffer the same fate as her - to be trapped and entombed here, without food or hope, forever.¡±

 49. Into the Darkness

    ¡°Well,¡± said Ellis, ¡°there¡¯s no point in trying to dig our way back out through the entrance - we could never shift those boulders.¡±

    ¡°And in any case,¡± Aldwyn added, ¡°that would just leave us stuck at the top of a huge cliff, behind a waterfall, with no obvious way down to safety.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯d better explore and start looking for another way out, then,¡± said Kira. ¡°Harath wouldn¡¯t have wanted us to get this far, only to fail now.¡±

    ¡°Then we should start moving,¡± Aldwyn suggested. ¡°My old bones will seize up if we stay here much longer. The cave seems to be much darker over in this direction - perhaps there¡¯s a way out further back here?¡±

    Kira stared softly at the mound of stones covering her friend; her sorrowful heart knew there was no more to be done here - as cruel as it seemed, it was time to move.

    She closed her eyes and lightly rested her hand on the damp rocks. She had not had many friends in her life - and understood their true value.

    The loss of Harath was a bitter blow, but she must summon the will to continue living - even without her brave friend alongside her.

    ¡°Courage!¡± she whispered to herself and turned to crawl back over towards Aldwyn.

    The roof of the cave was a bit higher near the far wall, and the cramped pain of the stones digging into her vulnerable kneespelled her to risk standing and trusting her weight to her sore ankle.

    She levered herself up; the grateful blood rushed down into her numbed legs. Although the shortest of the group, she still had to stoop her head and crane her neck at an ufortable angle. She paused to allow her body to recover and adjust.

    Her limbs and clothes, like those of the other two, glowed with smeared blotches of the luminescent algae.

    The curious mottled stains floated and moved and betrayed her friends¡¯ positions.

    She cautiously felt her way with uncertain feet towards the darker area near the back of the cave; the loose rocks wobbled and rattled beneath her weight, their echoes rippled sharply around the tight cavern.

    ¡°Well, at least there is some cave here to explore,¡± said Aldwyn from just in front of her. ¡°It doesn¡¯t juste to an abrupt end.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but it¡¯s much darker back here,¡± said Ellis.

    ¡°Mmm, away from the spray of the waterfall, the rock probably isn¡¯t moist enough for the algae to thrive, so we¡¯ll have to do without its guiding luminescence from now on,¡± said Aldwyn.

    Kira scraped slowly forward into the empty ckness. Her thoughts wrestled and writhed - they did not want to leave the paleforting glow of the algae - or the final resting ce of Harath.

    But Aldwyn was right - she couldn¡¯t allow Harath¡¯s sacrifice to be for nothing - they must press on and hope to find a way out.

    A little further into the murky dimness, the cave floor cleared of debris, and became tter and smoother; she could stand upright and began to trust her feet, but was still cautious not to be over-confident.

    She shuffled into the prowling gloom.

    The rumble of the waterfall died away; only the anxiety of her own breath, and the blood pumping through her watchful ears, disturbed the cold empty silence which clung tightly to her.

    ¡°The rest of the cave just seems to be an endless wall of ck,¡± Ellis whispered.

    Her tense shoulders were relieved to hear another human sound in the thick depths of the void.

    ¡°Let¡¯s just be grateful that there is a ¡¯rest of the cave¡¯ and keep moving carefully,¡± Aldwyn replied.Copyright N?v/el/Dra/ma.Org.

    Kira crept forward with meagre, nervous half-steps; the overwhelming gloom swallowed up the shifting, animated, purple-blue patches of her friends. She spread her hands out in front and tried to concentrate on the sound and direction of their footsteps.

    ¡°Kira? Are you still there?¡± Ellis asked in a hushed whisper from somewhere off to her left.

    ¡°Yes,¡± she whispered back.

    ¡°Aldwyn, are you keeping up?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Yes, of course - I¡¯m fine,¡± Aldwyn replied with an annoyed tone.

    ¡°Why are we whispering?¡± Kira asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know - it just seems the right thing to do,¡± Ellis said. ¡°Besides, we don¡¯t know what¡¯s out there in front of us - we don¡¯t want to startle or alert anything, or wake it up any beast who had been settling down to hibernate for the winter,¡± he concluded.

    ¡°I would have thought that the huge, shattering copse of the cliff-face would have achieved that by now,¡± said Aldwyn.

    ¡°Well - no point in taking any extra risks,¡± replied Ellis. ¡°But listen - our footsteps seem to be making a much longer echo now - so we must be in a muchrger cavern than before.¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± said Aldwyn, ¡°even my old ears had noticed that.¡±

    Kira advanced a little way further; the echo of her steps bounced back faster and closer than before. She stretched out her arms further into the un-see-able darkness and moved slowly. Her startled fingers brushed an unexpected surface; she yanked them back, rmed at the contact; her wary senses told her it was just the nk side of the cave. She flexed her hands back out and touched the smooth stone surface.

    ¡°I¡¯m near a wall,¡± she said to the others.

    Aldwyn¡¯s steps shuffled close beside her.

    ¡°Yes,¡± he said, ¡°I¡¯m there now too. From the smoothness of its surface, it seems that the cave might have caused by ava flow long ago - or it might even have been the original route of the waterfall that we have just passed through. In either case, there¡¯s a chance that time and Nature might have worn away an exit downhill for us somewhere - in any case, we have little choice but to press on.¡±

    An expectant pulse rippled through the nervous whispering gloom.

    Perhaps there was hope?

    Perhaps there truly was a way down from the mountain, and they would be saved?

    Kira fought to steady her rising emotions - they were not out of this yet, and a false hope can be worse than none at all - like the times she had hoped it would be pikelets for breakfast - only to discover it was gruel.

    She shuffled forward; her inquisitive fingers and feet explored and probed along the wall for a way forward, a hope, a chance to escape from the all-epassing ck of the cave and the trapped endless silence. The steady, rhythmical breath of Aldwyn hummed just behind her; Ellis¡¯s footsteps tapped next to him. Her cautious ears scanned and strained against the unseen darkness; her acute eyes struggled and searched through the bleak, airless hollow of the cavern.

    She tried to concentrate on the task before her - her own life, and that of herpanions, may well depend on it - but the smoothed rock tickled the soft pads of her fingertips; it called and reminisced with her, bringing images of the worn, old walls of the convent corridors; the routes and cloistered passageways, the chapel and the dormitories she had memorised and travelled through ever since she could remember being able to walk.

    Deft glimpses of her of her old life shed and circled through the unceasing dark - the dim yellow tallow lights, the high perfume of the incense, the nging echo of the Great Bell.

    Her fractured thoughts questioned if she really wanted to return to that.

    The strict rules; the hard stares from the nuns she had inadvertently annoyed?

    But at least the Venerated Convent of the Sinless Moon provided a rhythm and a certainty - as well as regr meal times - not to mention the asional breakfast of good honeyed pikelets.

    Her hollow stomach rumbled and reminded her that she had not eaten for several days.

    The others must have heard it.

    Her guilty cheeks flushed with warm embarrassment.

    She turned to apologise to herpanions, but her fingers slid off a sharp unexpected edge of the wall; she stumbled and lurched around a corner, shocked out of her daydreams.

    ¡°Stop!¡± she said as she turned to Aldwyn. ¡°There¡¯s something here. Or rather, there¡¯s something not here - it¡¯s a gap of some sort - perhaps it¡¯s the way out?¡±

    Aldwyn¡¯s rough hands reached past her and rasped at the stone.

    ¡°Yes,¡± he said, ¡°the wall ends abruptly here and turns a corner. If my estimates are correct, this cavern is shaped rather like one of my old funnels. We¡¯re now in a wide anti-chamber, and I¡¯ll bet my old bones this is the entrance to a narrower tunnel and perhaps our way out.¡±

    ¡°Then we should follow this new passage?¡± asked Kira.

    ¡°Yes, I think we should take that chance,¡± Aldwyn replied. ¡°Stay close to the wall as we¡¯ve just done, and if it turns out to be a dead end, we can always turn around and find our way back.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t say ¡¯dead end¡¯!¡± Ellisined.

    ¡°No - let¡¯s hope it¡¯s a living end,¡± Kira agreed.

    Her fingertips followed the corner - it was slightly rougher and more pitted than before - but perhaps this change in texture might be a sign that they were making progress towards the hope of an exit?

    She cautiously felt for each step through the empty ckness; the echoes of her movements closed in on her from either side; the floor began to lower in a steep descent, drawing her down into a much narrower, morepressed passageway.

    The sound of herpanions¡¯ footsteps and whispers no longer bounced overhead, but came straight back to her, t and immediate; her other arm stretched out into the darkness and brushed against the cold stones.

    ¡°I can touch both walls here,¡± she whispered. ¡°We can only continue in single file from now on.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d better go first then,¡± said Ellis, ¡°just in case¡­¡±.

    His steps scuffled towards her and his hand touched her shoulder.

    ¡°No.¡± said Kira. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    She shrugged him away, but the ring of her own words, stark and clear in the blinding gloom, seemed to reverberate with a confidence she was not certain she possessed.

    Perhaps Harath had been right?

    Perhaps she truly was a strong queen?

    Or perhaps her friend¡¯s feather, tucked into her tunic, had lent her its courage?

    She moved off before herpanions had the chance to argue or push past - and before her own self-assurance had the opportunity dither, and change its mind, and be self-doubt.

    The dark stones reached out and lightly caressed her fingers and told their gentle stories to her ustomed judgement; she carefully read their mute clues for twists and inclines in the tunnel. The familiar reassurance of being enclosed within the cradling stone walls rxed through her.

    And there were no nuns to bump into, no lessons to bete for, and no need to be afraid of falling up into the Greatness of the vast Sky.

    Ellis¡¯s footsteps echoed close behind, while Aldwyn¡¯s now brought up the rear. The soft rocks refused to threaten her - warmed by the knowledge of her friends were near.

    She allowed a pleasant and novel sensation of responsibility to ruffle through her.

    Perhaps she could finally prove her worth to herpanions, after all the kindness they had already shown to her?

    Perhaps she had finally discovered the Surrounder¡¯s Great n for her? The true purpose in her life?

    The exasperated nuns and the dusty scrolls had always predicted that each of us would have their own special part to y.

    She would lead them to safety - she would protect them from whatever dangers the tight, sinister darkness might bring.

    Not just the twisting, falling rocks, but perhaps a glowing pair of hungry eyes, belonging to some ravenous and fiendish demon, might loom up ahead of them.

    Hadn¡¯t she already faced the full fury of an angry nun when she had been caughtte for her lessons?

    What could be more daunting or dangerous than that?

    ¡°Slow down!¡± Ellis whispered behind her. ¡°It¡¯s not a race!¡±

    The closeness of his voice jolted her out of her drifting thoughts.

    ¡°Oh yes! Sorry!¡± she replied and stretched her hands out again to walk cautiously into the unknowing darkness of the tunnel.

 50. The Treasurers Request

    Father Steadman rubbed his thumbs deep into the arms of his chair and shifted his weight uneasily.

    He nced up at the sleek, ck robes of Caldor and then back down at the paperwork on his desk.

    ¡°Is it really so much more?¡± he asked. ¡°This is a far greater sum than we had originally budgeted for - and now, what with this business of the witches and the Grand Harmonist, your request couldn¡¯t havee at a worse time.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid so Patrex,¡± Caldor replied. ¡°Unfortunately, it seems the witches may even be part of the problem - ourtest delivery of stone never arrived - we suspect it was attacked by the witches somewhere in transit. Also, all of the masons are reluctant to travel to our region for fear of the attacks - they say it isn¡¯t safe, and we are having to pay them extra in order to persuade them toe and work for us here.¡±

    Steadman gripped his fingers into the smoothed wood.

    These were not the type of frustrating discussions he had envisaged when he agreed to be Patrex.

    The bureaucratic concerns of the Church weighed heavily, but seemed so pointless these days - especially since the disaster of the Ceremony.

    And what had he really done about it?

    What practical steps had his role allowed him to implement?

    Had he dug a defensive ditch?

    Had he readied an army, or prepared for a siege?

    Little wonder that sleep had proved harder toe by ofte.

    And now, here he was sitting in thefort of his office, signing documents, while his flock was out there - unprotected, unsheltered - many left without homes against the chilly damp of autumn - and the harshness of winter would soon be upon them all.

    Should he really be wasting money on this nonsense?

    Surely it could be put to better use?

    To fill the bellies of the needy?

    Or to pay for more soldiers and weapons?

    True, the witch attacks seemed to have dampened down - for the time being - but surely this was not the time for such extravagances?

    ¡°But very little progress seems to have been made with the gold that has already been paid,¡± he said.

    ¡°Was it not ever thus with builders, Patrex?¡± Caldor shrugged. ¡°Most of the work so far has been structural supports and strengthening the foundations - it is all very necessary, butrgely unseen. I¡¯m afraid these old buildings don¡¯t take care of themselves - there is always some problematical subsidence, and then the centuries of wear and tear - the walls may look solid, but they are only stone and mortar - and no matter how skilled the mason, or how tough the stone, weather is always stronger - although of course, neither are as strong as our own blessed faith.¡±

    Steadman watched his opponent cautiously.

    His rich, ck robes swayed as he paced before the desk; a dark glint shone out from his eyes. The Senior Brother had never been a particrly wee visitor to his office - had always been too fond of the sound of his own voice and never failed to take the opportunity to lecture - and as far as he could make out, the Church finances seemed to be getting worse.

    But Caldor was the Treasurer after all - and he was only trying to do his job.

    But it couldn¡¯t be right to spend such a fortune now - not when it could be used to feed the poor or equip an army.

    ¡°Still, brother, I¡¯m not sure we can afford to continue with such a grand project at this moment¡­¡±

    ¡°But we must preserve the Library and its scrolls, Patrex,¡± Caldor interjected. ¡°After all, what is it we are fighting the witches for, if not to preserve our culture, our way of life? The cumtion of all our precious knowledge, spanning back through all the generations? All of this is held within the crumbling walls of our renowned Library - we must act now to preserve it.¡±

    ¡°But the money could be used¡­¡±

    ¡°We must give the people a symbol of hope, Patrex,¡± Caldor continued, ¡°the great glory of the Church - of our faith in the Surrounder - to abandon the works now would give the impression that we are surrendering, that we ept defeat, that we will not resist the pestilence of these witches. Now is precisely the time to build - to inspire the masses.¡±

    Steadman shifted in his chair again and rubbed his chin.

    Perhaps Caldor was right?

    Perhaps what the people needed was a signal of some sort - encouragement, a sign that the Church would fight and continue - a defiant g to rally around?

    But then again, if the findings of brother Lanqvist were right¡­

    Wasn¡¯t it all just meaningless anyway?

    Was there no way for them to fight back?

    No hope?

    Caldor coughed lightly into his fist.

    ¡°I remind you again, Patrex, we really need to make the payment by this evening to stay on course.¡±

    Steadman¡¯s tired head buzzed with uncertainty.

    Dealing with finances always brought about this confusion.

    Surely the Treasurer knew his own job best?

    He lent his reluctant weight forward to the desk and the document.All content ? N/.?vel/Dr/ama.Org.

    ¡°Very well then,¡± he said.

 51. The Cruel Darkness

    Kira¡¯s miserable knees sang out andined of their pain and raw grazes. Her back and neck ached from the unending time spent crawling through the cramped inscrutable darkness. Her stiff, bruised arms and shoulders joined in with the objection, but the roof and walls of the tunnel squeezed in on her from all around; the taut, dense weight bore down on her almost as heavily as the impossible nocturnal ckness which squashed and crushed her slender hopes and frame.This belongs to N?velDrama.Org: ?.

    ¡°We should rest for a little while now,¡± said Ellis from behind her. ¡°Just to give our knees a chance to recover and let Aldwyn catch up.¡±

    She had been aware of Ellis scrabbling along - his asional groans of difort resonated close to her heels - but it was still a relief to hear his voice again through the disconste, imprable gloom which entombed them.

    She turned over and stretched out t on her back. The hard, unfeeling chill of the tunnel floor shivered up through the tattered rags of her tunic - but at least she could rest - at least her strangled limbs could flex and extend and gather some relief from the pressure of supporting her drooping head.

    The sound of her shallow, stifled breath bounced back close into her face. Her empty stomach growled; a bleak thirst burned though her; a malevolent urge brooded - a deep desire to escape the binding clutches of the tunnel; she fought it back - there was no prospect of finding any respite soon.

    And the darkness.

    Everywhere the ruinous, menacing darkness.

    The relentless, suffocating corruption that engulfed them had seeped its way into every pore of her being; its musty smell, its thick hopelessness; even the dirt that worked its way into her unwilling mouth, tasted of the gritty, crushing, unending ckness.

    A scrabbling groan from the depths beyond Ellis informed her that Aldwyn had caught up.

    Ellis was right about him.

    Aldwyn had been gging further and further behind the other two - and when he did catch up to them, he said very little and seemed distracted, lost in his own thoughts somewhere - even more so than usual.

    Perhaps it was just tiredness, or his age?

    Perhaps the cruel stress and incessant futility of the situation was preying on him?

    The long cramped twisting days spent wedged down the ravenous gullet of a mountain had sapped his energy and enthusiasm?

    Just as it had done to her.

    And then besides, why shouldn¡¯t he be quiet?

    What was there really to say?

    A little while back, Ellis had asked him about it, but simply received the usual reply that his ¡°old bones¡± were fatigued and weary of crawling.

    But Ellis knew his master better than she did, and if he was concerned, then perhaps there was something more sinister to worry about?

    But what could they do about it?

    There was no food or water here.

    They could rest more frequently - but this only dyed any hope of eventually escaping the dismal, ominous dark.

    No - they must press on while they still had any strength left at all - or risknguishing and being entombed there forever.

    She reached into her tunic and touched Harath¡¯s feather.

    There was no way her friend had intended to punish her in this endless, ustrophobic way.

    But at least Ellis and Aldwyn were still with her.

    When they had still been able to stand, Ellis had sometimes touched her shoulder to indicate they should rest or wait for Aldwyn - the kindness of hispanionship had pressed into her through the warmth of his hand; a ripple of hope had ebbed through her.

    But thest time they had been able to walk upright seemed such a long time ago now - and the pinching, stooping crush of the tunnel had deprived her even of that slender constion andfort.

    If she ever got out of this wretched, unfathomable, tortuous maze of unforgiving rock, she would neverin about having to walk anywhere again - it was far morefortable than crawling.

    ¡°Well, we should probably start moving again,¡± said Ellis wearily.

    Kira grimaced and turned over to crawl into the blinding depths of the darkness. Her scratched knees and bruised palms jabbed and throbbed with pain - but they must press forward - there could be no hope of turning around and heading back to the cave and the waterfall now.

    And if she gave up, the other two would be imprisoned behind her, unable to squeeze past in the constricting cruelty of stone - she could not afford to let them down.

    The brutal roof curved and squashed down even tighter into her back.

    She crept on, low,pressed to the cold ground.

    She scrabbled forward; her head collided with the steep, sloping hardness of the roof; her nose was forced down; her face scraped along the dark, ancient fissures; the sour fragmented odour of the bitter rock bruised into her.

    Her desperate fingers groped dimly in front; they rasped against a rough barrier of stone; a tremor of hopeless fear shocked through her; she caught her breath and pushed and fumbled and searched - but the narrow, tapering way forward was blocked.

    ¡°Ellis!¡± she said as loudly as she could without being able to turn her head around.

    ¡°It¡¯s a dead end! I think we¡¯re trapped!¡±

 52. The Tumbling Darkness

    ¡°Is itpletely solid in front of you?¡± Ellis called. ¡°Isn¡¯t there any sort of gap at all?¡±

    Kira sank her forehead to the cold stone; the coils of ruinous panic shuddered in her core; she breathed deeply and pushed her arms out; her raw fingers scrabbled down the obstinate rock; searching; probing; urgently hoping for a crack, a crevice, a way out - anything but the crushing despair of being trapped in the silent darkness of a dead end.

    A loose stone wobbled at the base of the obstruction; an anxious thump of adrenaline and hope pulsed through her; she scratched and wed at the shifting rubble; her grinding nails dug and splintered; she scraped and raked; arge pebble shifted and came free; she yanked it out and grubbed a fist of gravel and debris from the fissure she had made.

    ¡°There¡¯s a small gap here,¡± she shouted through her legs to Ellis. ¡°I¡¯ll see if I can widen it a bit.¡±

    She groped her tender fingers further into the rough darkness and grazed back the harsh fragments of rock; her hand and arm scuffled through the opening and probed into a dense, dark, empty void.

    She grasped at the nk air - but there was no way of knowing if the crevice lead anywhere, or stopped just beyond her desperate reach.

    She wanted to turn and tell Ellis, but the constricting tunnel mped her head in ce.

    ¡°I¡¯ve made a narrow opening,¡± she shouted. Her breath and the volume of her voice reverberated thickly in her own ears. ¡°But if I manage to get in, I¡¯m not sure there¡¯ll be enough room to wriggle back out again.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll stay here and keep hold of your ankles,¡± Ellis called back. ¡°If you get stuck, I¡¯ll pull you out.¡±

    Kira paused and inhaled; the silent doubts gnawed and brooded within her. The gap was not as wide as the grated-hatch at the Refectory - she and Amber had managed to silently smuggle food out through that opening - but pilfering for pikelets just needed her arms and shoulders to reach and pass through, not her entire body.

    There was every chance the slender fissure might lead nowhere; the sinister rocks might crush or entomb her forever.

    But what choice did she have?

    This was the only real chance of escape - it would be hopeless to turn around now and try to crawl all the way back up to the cave behind the waterfall.

    And what would that even achieve?

    There was no food, or water, or way out there either.

    She scrunched her nervous palms together and pressed her fraught toes down into her boots.

    ¡°Courage!¡± she whispered to herself.

    Her sensitive fingers wormed their way along the ground into the narrow opening; she gripped and wriggled with her knees and squirmed forward into the constricting crevice.

    The warmth of Ellis¡¯s hands sped her legs.

    She turned her head to the side; her cheek scraped along the abrasive floor; the low roof squashed down; the stale, congealed odour of rock encased her; the damp of her ustrophobic breath condensed back into her own face.

    She groped and wrestled forward, her eyes screwed shut against the dust and grit and her own ominous fears. The inscrutable stone dug into her belly and knees; it squeezed and grasped and pulled at her; her bruised elbows fought against the friction; she slithered further; her lungs struggled to inte against the dense, incessant pressure;

    Her tense hands squirmed forward and probed for a pathway through the ck tomb.

    There must be a way out; she must help her friends - they were relying on her.

    Her body stretched -id out taut in the shivering darkness. The foreboding, unwee rock crunched and squeezed. She would have to grip and kick with the side of her boots to get any further in - Ellis would have to let go - there would be little hope of ever returning without his help - but there was still a gap in front of her to explore - there was still a hope - she had to try, she had to help her friends.This belongs to N?velDrama.Org: ?.

    ¡°Courage!¡± she thought in the dark, uncertain silence.

    ¡°It¡¯s all right Ellis - you can let go!¡± she said as loudly as she could. Her muffled voice bounced straight back into her face.

    Perhaps he wouldn¡¯t be able to hear her properly?

    Perhaps her strangled voice would remain buried in the mute rock which entombed her?

    She kicked and wriggled forward; the warm security of Ellis¡¯s grip slipped away from her ankles; she was alone; she would have to get through the fissure now - somehow - or perish trying.

    She squirmed and twisted her frame; her fingers scratched and rummaged at the bruising rock; her toes strained and dug hard inside her boots; her tender knees and elbows cut and bloodied by her efforts; exhaustion and istion and terror began to exert themselves along the length of her vulnerable body.

    Was this the Surrounder¡¯s true n for her?

    To be trapped forever in an inescapable tomb?

    To feel the harsh rock caress her lonely cheeks and legs for all Eternity as it sped her in a final deadly embrace?

    She must not give up - she must not surrender to the solitary ckness.

    Her fingers scrabbled forward and ripped along a rough edge; she fumbled and groped and rotated her wrists - but there was no more floor.

    Perhaps there was arger gap just beyond her extended arms?

    The hopeful adrenaline kindled her fractured body and mind; a pulsing desire for escape, and food, and survival flooded through her.

    Her bruised, weary fingers grasped the abrupt edge; she heaved and strained and dragged herself forward; she dug and pushed with her knees, her toes, her body, her will, and hauled herself towards the lip of the abrasive floor.

    Her panting breath rebounded hard through her head, threatening to drown out the wounding rasp of her boots on the coarse rock.

    The clenched stone walls squeezed tighter, grasping at her clothing and hair; crushing her; refusing to relinquish their morbid grip.

    The cold rock edge bit and stung into her palms; she twisted and writhed and levered herself forward; her arms and elbows slid out over the sudden rim of the floor and dangled free - away from the pressure and rubbing soreness of the cracked fissure.

    Her arms were free!

    There must be arger, open space just beyond this pinch-point?

    Perhaps even a way out!

    Just a little more effort and her shoulders and head would escape too.

    She paused and sucked the shallow breath back into her exhausted lungs; the anxious adrenaline would not allow her to rest for long; she braced her hands down against the angle of the rock verge and pushed back against the frigid surface; she kicked and wrestled her squirming body; she slithered and rasped through the callous, narrow fissure; her cheeks and chin scoured the crushing stone; the grit and gravel coughed into her throat and mind.

    Her torso wedged in the solid, unyielding fangs of the tunnel; a frustrated panic of fear convulsed through her; she kicked and heaved and thrashed and grunted; her frantic head scraped and wormed and lunged free; it dangled out over the lip of the ground.

    Her head was through!

    She was still alive!

    She could breathe!

    She gasped and panted her grateful relief and listened for the echoes of her breath, but could not discern any.

    She opened her tentative eyes, but encountered nothing except the same intense, stalking darkness that had haunted her since she had first entered the tunnel.

    A sombre disappointment blunted her hopes.

    But just how big was the gap her head was now in?

    Was she in mid-air or near the ground?

    Was there another way out, an exit to the waiting world perhaps?

    Her eyes gave her no clues; but at least her head and arms were free -

    she would not die in the crushing rock sepulchre.

    Her arms heaved again and dragged her straining shoulders and body out to the waist; several small fragments of rock caught and pulled beneath her. The loose debris rattled down the side of the opening and ttered to a halt not far below.

    A sharp, thin echo bounced through the ckness - the distant reverberation suggested she was entering arge, spacious cavern.

    She lent the top half of her body out into the void and walked her cautious hands down the rough wall beneath her; she searched and probed for some solid ground tond on.

    Her aching limbs stretched and flexed; she bent down as far as her back would allow - but her fingers could not find any trace of floor in the groping darkness below them.

    She wriggled out a little further and reached her extended arms down as far as she dared - but still there was nothing - no floor to touch in the echoing, sightless void.

    She squirmed her hips forward and strained down again - the ground must be there somewhere - she was certain the pebbles had hit it.

    Her impulsive fingers elongated and hunted for the cave floor; the giddy blood rushed down into her head and flushed through her cheeks; the weight of her hair tumbled and pulled across her face; she stretched and forced her arms down; her legs rasped and slithered out of the tunnel behind her; she frantically tried to lock them in ce, to grasp at the abrasive rock with her boots, but she slid and slipped away from the solidity of the crevice.

    The fast air rushed past her face.

    She iled her panicking arms out and plunged helplessly into the head-long darkness.

 53. The Other Side

    Kira¡¯s body thumped down on a hard, uneven surface before her whirring, scrambled mind had time to react.

    Her raw hands stung and absorbed the jolting impact; her knees throbbed and stabbed from their raking slide down the cavern wall.

    She unwound her tangled limbs from the ungainly heap andy motionless; her grateful lungs gasped down the happy air.

    Well, at least she had found the floor!

    Hernding had not exactly been graceful, but she had made it through thecerating jaws of that crevice and was still alive.

    She flexed her torn and weary arms and legs and reassured herself that she hadn¡¯t been seriously injured.

    She fought back an irresistible urge tough.

    She was free!

    Her legs and arms and body might be sore, but she could move them in any direction she wanted without the intimidating, restrictive rock to shackle and bind her into position.

    She rolled her neck - her head and cheeks were unhampered by the insidious pressure - the sound of her own breath no longer hammered back into her oppressed face.

    A flurry of hope rippled through her.

    This cavern could be a way out?

    Perhaps the long, cramped days of despairing dark would soon be over?

    Her nostrils delighted in their new freedom; she breathed deeply again.

    The air was not fresh - but it was not the stale, immovable atmosphere of the tunnel either. In subtle moments, her nose caught a faint glimpse of odour - something high and thin and unpleasant - but after the endless, trapped dejection of the tunnel, even this veiled, musty scent was a wee break from the dark monotony.

    She strained her ears against the thud of her own heart - a shadowy rustling sound seemed to crinkle asionally in the far distance - but after the tired days, snared by the echoes of the mountainous rock, she could no longer be sure if this was the dim sound of wind or water - or just the desperate, rushing noise of her own hope.

    Her jaded body wanted to remain on the stubborn stone floor - to rest and breath and recover - but herpanions were certain to be worried about her - she should at least let them know she was alive.

    Her bleary legs did not feel trustworthy; she leant on the cavern wall and wobbled up to her feet; the thankful blood flowed down into her limbs; she stretched her back and shoulders and felt for the crack that she had just slid out from.

    She stooped to shoulder height and called hoarsely into the dark gap.

    ¡°Ellis! Ellis! Can you hear me?¡±

    A muffled, muted noise came back to her - she could not distinguish any words, but from the tone and timbre, it was definitely theforting voice of herpanion.

    Her shoulders rxed; she smiled; she was not alone.

    ¡°I¡¯m alive! I¡¯m safe!¡± she said. ¡°And I think there¡¯s a muchrger cave back here.¡±

    Some dulled, strangled words strained back to her.

    ¡°Can I get through?¡± they seemed to say.

    Her bruised body still held to the resentful, squashed trauma of the numbing rock.

    Would herpanions be able to get through such a tight squeeze?

    But her unwilling frame had dragged and scooped out a quantity of loose debris - she had hollowed out the gap and widened it.

    ¡°It was a bit of a squeeze,¡± she shouted, ¡°but you might make it.¡±

    She pressed her ear into the crevice.

    ¡°All right - I¡¯ll try - wait for me there!¡± Ellis called.

    Kira¡¯s jittery excitement told her to stand patiently for Ellis to emerge through the narrow fissure, but her aching legs forced her to sit back down.

    Ellis would be here soon - she would not be alone in the unfeeling dark - Aldwyn would get through next - they would explore the cavern together - there was certain to be an exit somewhere.

    She stood and leant against the wall by the opening; faint scrabbling sounds grew closer and reassured her.

    ¡°I¡¯m just through here, Ellis!¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯re nearly there - just keep going!¡±

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m fine,¡± he called back.

    His voice was nearer now and the words were clearly distinguishable.

    She sat down and stretched her legs out before her; she revelled in the cheerful sensation of movement and freedom; she rotated her shoulders; her neck clicked gratefully into position.

    The scrabbling sounds above her got closer - Ellis would be through soon. She stood to help him.

    ¡°I¡¯m here, Ellis!¡± she said - there was no need to raise her voice now.

    She reached her arms back into the fissure and groped along the floor.

    Her wandering fingers happily stumbled into something warm and human in the dark, abrasive loneliness; shetched on to Ellis¡¯s hands and felt the pressure of her grip returned.

    ¡°I think I¡¯m stuck!¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯ll have to pull!¡±

    Kira leaned back slowly and took a step away from the crevice; her arms and shoulders stretched and strained.

    She sensed his body shift in the tunnel and stepped back cautiously again - determined to haul her friend out of the crushing rock, but concerned her clumsy actions might hurt him.

    Her weary arms heaved.

    ¡°Ow!¡± Ellis shouted. ¡°Stop! Stop!¡±

    She paused but still sped his hands. His weight moved and agitated in the narrow fissure.

    ¡°All right - try again,¡± he said.

    Kira stepped back; the floor behind her was uneven and littered with loose stones; she took steady care not to stumble or trip and hurt Ellis.

    Another step; her taut, heaving hands slid back over the rough lip of the crevice, into the cavern.

    Ellis was nearly through!

    His tense body wriggled and squirmed; she hauled and walked resolutely backwards.

    ¡°My elbows are out!¡± he said. ¡°Keep going!¡±

    Kira heaved and strained against his weight; his arms twisted and shook as he wrestled through the opening.

    ¡°Wait! Stop!¡± he said. ¡°My shoulders are stuck!¡±

    Kira paused and reflected - she had noticed how much broader men¡¯s shoulders were than her own, and had often thought this bulky strength must be an advantage - she had never considered that it might also prove a hindrance - perhaps Ellis would not have been able to stretch through into the Refectory hatchway either?

    ¡°Just let me rest here a little before one final push,¡± said Ellis.

    ¡°Yes - thatst bit is definitely the tightest and worst,¡± said Kira. ¡°But don¡¯t worry - you¡¯re nearly through.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think I can get out straight on,¡± Ellis said. ¡°I¡¯ll need to try and get one shoulder through at a time - just pull my right arm first.¡±

    Kira released his left hand and gripped his right firmly in both of hers.

    ¡°Ready?¡± she said.

    ¡°Let¡¯s try,¡± Ellis replied.

    Kira leant back and heaved on Ellis¡¯s arm.

    He groaned in the nk darkness; his body twisted and writhed; her tired fingers sped and strained. His body shifted and eased towards her.

    ¡°Keep pulling! It¡¯s working!¡± he gasped at her.

    She dug in with determined feet and tilted all her weight back. His arm slid out further.

    ¡°That¡¯s it!¡± Ellis panted. ¡°Now the other arm.¡±

    Kira groped for his other hand and grasped it tightly. She pulled it towards her; his body scraped through the dense rock in response to her efforts.

    ¡°Just a little more!¡± Ellis encouraged.

    Kira stepped back and hauled again.

    ¡°That¡¯s it! My head¡¯s out now!¡± said Ellis. ¡°I think I can lever myself out from here.¡±

    Kira sank to the floor and rested her hands on her knees; her body trembled from its exertions; her lungs gasped down the restoring air.

    Ellis¡¯s boots rasped and scraped clear of the crevice; he groaned as he rumbled down the rocky wall; the echo of hisnding thud bounced around the imprable darkness.

    A relieved contentment eased through her - Ellis was out, and she was no longer forced to bare the relentless, menacing gloom alone.

    She sensed thefort of his meagre body-warmth as he sat down near to her.

    ¡°Oh, my neck!¡± he coughed. ¡°I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d get through thatst little section - but at least we can stretch out a bit here.¡±

    ¡°Yes, isn¡¯t it wonderful - after so long in that tunnel.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d better let Aldwyn know I¡¯m through, and it¡¯s safe for him to follow.¡±

    His boots crunched on the debris as he struggled to his feet.

    ¡°Aldwyn! I¡¯m through! You can start now!¡± he shouted.

    Dull, distant fragments of Aldwyn¡¯s voice broke the thick silence of the cavern.

    Ellis ttered back down beside her.

    ¡°Careful!¡± she said. ¡°You nearly stood on me then!¡±

    She drew her knees up and rested her chin on them; her fatigued muscles trembled in their dark exhaustion.

    Surely this cavern must lead somewhere?

    Surely there must be an exit not too far from here?

    It certainly felt as if they had been descending all this time in the tunnel.

    Perhaps they were already down from the mountains?

    Perhaps there was a house and food nearby?

    ¡°Is it me,¡± Ellis asked, ¡°or did you just hear that too?¡±

    ¡°That sort of rustling sound?¡± she replied. ¡°Yes, I keep thinking I could hear it since I got here - but ites and goes, so I don¡¯t think it¡¯s a waterfall - it¡¯s not steady enough for that - I keep hoping it¡¯s a blustery wind outside and we might be somewhere near an exit.¡±

    ¡°Yes, let¡¯s hope so.¡± He sniffed the air loudly. ¡°But what¡¯s that smell?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know - but if there¡¯s a new and different smell in here then that¡¯s another reason to hope we might be near an exit of some sort - but, to be honest, anything would be better than another day spent on our hands and knees crawling through that awful tunnel - at least from here, we should be able to stand up and talk to each other.¡±

    The scrabbling scrape of boots on rough stone, apanied by Aldwyn¡¯s grumpy baritone, filtered through from the crevice.

    Ellis stood and spoke to encourage him.

    Kira shivered as she hugged her knees - it had not been easy for her to slither through the unnerving, grasping darkness - it would be so much more difficult for someone of Aldwyn¡¯s size.

    But at least he had the luxury of knowing that there was an exit of some sort - that there was hope at the end of the unrelenting pinch-point.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got your hands,¡± Ellis said. ¡°Hold on - I¡¯m going to pull you.¡±

    The gritty echoes of Ellis¡¯s footsteps scratched around the cavern.

    His thick, straining breath gasped out and bounced to the far, dark walls.

    ¡°Well, thank goodness for that!¡± said Aldwyn¡¯s familiar voice from the wall behind her. ¡°I didn¡¯t think my head would ever get through there! At least I can breathe and hear you properly now.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re heavier than you look, Aldwyn!¡± said Ellis.

    ¡°Perhaps,¡± Aldwyn replied. ¡°But it isn¡¯t my weight that¡¯s the problem - it¡¯s my size against the friction of these rocks - it¡¯s going to be a mighty squeeze to get all of me through this little gap.¡±

    ¡°Let me just rest a little,¡± Ellis said, ¡°then we¡¯ll try again. Kira, I¡¯m not sure I can manage this on my own - I think you¡¯ll have to help.¡±

    The weary soreness in Kira¡¯s legs did not want her to stand.

    ¡°Well, you had to get your shoulders through one arm at a time - have you tried that yet?¡± she asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s not my shoulders that are stuck - it¡¯s ¡­ all the rest of me,¡± Aldwyn replied.

    Kira forced herself to her reluctant feet and fumbled for Aldwyn¡¯s arm.

    ¡°Ready?¡± Ellis said. ¡°Pull!¡±

    Kira leant back and strained; she tried to stride away from the wall, but Aldwyn¡¯s arm refuse to budge and held her in ce.

    Ellis grunted and heaved next to her.

    ¡°Try kicking your legs more, Aldwyn,¡± he panted.

    ¡°What is it you think I¡¯m doing here?¡± Aldwyn replied.

    ¡°Then it seems you¡¯repletely stuck,¡± Ellis said.

    ¡°What about your tunic?¡± Kira suggested. ¡°It is quite thick - perhaps if we could get that off, you might have more room to wriggle through?¡±Copyright N?v/el/Dra/ma.Org.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Ellis agreed, ¡°it is rather a thick garment.¡±

    ¡°Well of course,¡± said Aldwyn, ¡°it¡¯s autumn - obviously I¡¯m going to wear a thick tunic at this time of year!¡±

    ¡°And you can put it straight back on as soon as you¡¯re through,¡± said Kira.

    ¡°And it¡¯s not as if we¡¯ll be able to see anything in this dark,¡± Ellis added.

    ¡°Very well then,¡± Aldwyn agreed. ¡°If you each pull at a sleeve, you should be able to get it off and over my head.¡±

    Kira grasped at the rough cloth and tugged. The coarse material stretched, then slid up Aldwyn¡¯s arm. She pulled, slowly, steadily, and gathered the garment to her.

    Aldwyn wriggled and shifted his weight to release thepressed folds.

    A piercing rip rang out next to her.

    ¡°Oops! Sorry, Aldwyn!¡± said Ellis.

    Kira paused, then pulled the garment once more. The tunic jerked and slid suddenly as it slipped clear of the crevice; she gathered up its full weight as it cleared Aldwyn¡¯s head.

    ¡°Right,¡± said Ellis, ¡°let¡¯s try again - grab a hand each and pull.¡±

    Kira braced her feet into the ground; she heaved at Aldwyn¡¯s arm. Ellis gasped and strained beside her.

    Aldwyn¡¯s body twisted and writhed; he groaned and puffed.

    ¡°Ow! No! No! Stop!¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s no use - I¡¯m stuck - you¡¯ll have to leave me here - I can¡¯t get through!¡±

 54. The Brittle Floor

    ¡°We can¡¯t just leave you here!¡± Kira said.

    ¡°No,¡± said Ellis, ¡°we just need to rest a short while and try to think - my arms are still aching from all that crawling anyway - we just need a moment.¡±

    Kira flopped back down to the dejected cavern floor and gasped into the miserable dark. Ellis scrunched down near her.

    ¡°Mmmh,¡± Aldwynined, ¡°I had hoped with all the meals we¡¯ve missed recently, I would have been slim enough to get through.¡±

    ¡°Well, your diet hasn¡¯t worked,¡± Ellis said, ¡°so we¡¯ll have to think of something else.¡±

    ¡°Yes, we¡¯re in no hurry,¡± Kira added. ¡°We¡¯ve got plenty of time.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s easy for you to say!¡± Aldwyn replied. ¡°Your old bones are not the ones wedged fast in here!¡±

    Kira drew her legs up and rested her chin on her knees.

    Surely there was some way to help Aldwyn?

    It didn¡¯t seem fair to havee all that way just for him to be stuck now.

    She flexed her ankle.

    Her foot wobbled and dislodged the shadowy weight of a loose stone; a gritty rumble echoed around the cavern.

    ¡°Wait!¡± she said. ¡°There¡¯s a rock just down here by my feet - perhaps we could use it to chip away at the gap and make it a bit bigger for you, Aldwyn?¡±

    ¡°Good thinking!¡± said Ellis. ¡°There are plenty near me too - I¡¯ll hack away from this side and you try the other.¡±

    Kira stood and groped for the rock; she lifted it with both hands. Her body seemed refreshed from its recent ordeals, her energy somehow renewed - perhaps the brief respite of sitting down had helped her - or perhaps the kind words of Ellis had spurred her on.

    She had never managed to have a good idea before - all of her ideas until then had been thoroughly bad ones - as the ever-watchful nuns had been keen to assure her - and the dark of the cave seemed slightly brighter beneath the glow of thisplement.

    ¡°You¡¯d better try to protect your eyes, Aldwyn,¡± she said. ¡°Cover them with your hands if you can.¡±

    She lifted the stone to her head, and brought it down sharply on the lip of the crevice, as close to Aldwyn as she dared. A loud echoing boom shuddered out and filled the cavern; a dry, ttering skitter tumbled near her feet.

    The noise suggested that several smaller kes of stone had been removed.

    Her wary fingers rubbed along the edge of the rock opening - the sharp stone rim was smoother and wider than before.

    ¡°It¡¯s working Aldwyn!¡± she said. ¡°A bit broke off!¡±

    Ellis thudded and hammered on the other side of the fissure; the reverberations of his efforts thundered through the cold darkness.

    ¡°Yes,¡± he agreed, ¡°we¡¯ll soon have you out of there now!¡±

    Kira bashed at the rock again; her fragile hands vibrated from the jolting blows; her arms burned and ached in their exhaustion; the resilient stone thumped and fractured and echoed.

    She toiled through the determined darkness. Aldwyn was depending on her; she battled through the weary fatigue - she would not abandon her friend - not now - not when there was a possibility, a hope, of exit from the gloomy prison that had snared and stifled them for so long.

    The shattered fragments of rock crumpled and bounced to the rattling ground; the thick darkness seemed alive with the percussive pounding.

    ¡°Wait!¡± said Aldwyn. ¡°I felt the rock shift just then - it seems a bit looser around me now - try pulling me out again.¡±

    Kira¡¯s grateful hands dropped the hefty rock; it thudded to the ground; the stabbing echo recoiled across the darkness, then the ominous silence stalked the cavern once more.

    She felt for Aldwyn¡¯s wrinkled hand.

    ¡°Pull!¡± said Ellis.

    She leant backwards; Aldwyn¡¯s weight writhed and shook in her straining fingers; she pulled and stepped away from the cavern wall; Aldwyn¡¯s arm travelled with her; Ellis gasped, his boots crunched.

    ¡°It¡¯s working!¡± said Aldwyn. ¡°Keep pulling!¡±

    Kira drove her resolute feet down and heaved again; she manoeuvred away from the crevice opening.

    A sudden rasping rattle of Aldwyn¡¯s boots surprised her; his weight thudded into her startled body and knocked her to the hard, unforgiving ground; his heavy frame thumped down on top of her and pinned her to the cold, lumpy floor.

    ¡°Ow!¡± grumbled Aldwyn. ¡°My poor old bones can¡¯t take much more of this type of treatment!¡±

    ¡°Now you know how it feels to be a cork in a gon of old Mr Mulwort¡¯s cyder!¡± Ellisughed.

    ¡°Well,¡± Aldwyn replied, ¡°it¡¯s one way to get out, I suppose. And I¡¯m still alive, at least.¡±

    The frigid stones jabbed and dug into Kira¡¯s ufortable body; Aldwyn¡¯s oppressive weight trapped her legs. The peculiar sound ofughter in such bleak surroundings jarred and shed and pleased her. An alleviating calm eased through her; shey still and gulped down the air, d that they were all together, and of the chance for a rest.

    Aldwyn¡¯s bulk moved and lifted up from her.

    ¡°Thank you for catching me Kira,¡± he said. ¡°I wasn¡¯t sure I¡¯d ever squeeze through that gap.¡±

    ¡°Well, we could hardly just leave you there!¡± said Ellis.

    ¡°Oh! My legs and shoulders!¡± Aldwyn continued. ¡°I never thought I would appreciate just being able to stand up straight!¡±

    ¡°Yes, it feels strange to begin with,¡± Kira agreed. ¡°I can just about feel the blood returning to my legs now!¡±

    ¡°Is it just me,¡± Aldwyn asked, ¡°or has anyone else noticed that smell?¡±

    ¡°Yes, we both keep catching a sniff of it,¡± said Kira. ¡°It might be faint, but it¡¯s still unpleasant, whatever it is.¡±

    ¡°And that rustling noise,¡± Aldwyn said, ¡°can you both hear that too? Or are my old ears ying tricks on me?¡±

    ¡°We hear it too,¡± said Ellis.

    ¡°Perhaps it¡¯s the wind outside,¡± Kira suggested, ¡°or water or something - but we could be very near an exit.¡±

    ¡°Well, for the sake of my old bones, I hope you¡¯re right about that,¡± said Aldwyn. ¡°But for now, we should still proceed with caution - it¡¯s stillpletely ck in here, so we don¡¯t know what hazards may yet await us. I¡¯ll get my tunic back on, then we should keep moving - but take our time and try not to take any risks.¡±

    Kira levered herself up and patted the debris from her clothes.

    The dirt and grit, which had caked onto her eyelids from grubbing along the tunnel floor, stung and irritated.

    Her weary legs were not keen to walk - but the sound of herpanions¡¯ shallow footsteps encouraged her forward. She pushed her arms out, towards the immense, unquenchable darkness, and staggered and wobbled across the unwieldy, uneven ground.

    Her feet refused to move with any rity or precision; they scraped and scratched across a shifting carpet of lumps and bumps.

    The shuffling echoes and disturbances of Aldwyn and Ellis moved alongside her; she was pleased to havepany - and to be able to walk upright - but was not certain if she regretted the loss of her responsibility for leading the way.

    The thick, musty odour gathered more strongly in her nostrils; the whispering, buzzing rattle grew hazily louder and more frequent.

    Perhaps it was another waterfall after all?

    Perhaps the rumbling echo of the cavern had deceived her ears?

    If so, they could be near an exit - they could be nearly safe!

    Her clumsy foot slipped; she staggered heavily to the side; something on the floor shattered beneath her lurching weight. A garish crack echoed and fractured across the dark stillness; she froze to the spot; her heart raced and recovered.

    The fierce reverberation died away to the ck, motionless hush.

    ¡°Are you all right Kira?¡± Ellis whispered.

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m fine - I think,¡± she replied.

    ¡°What happened?¡± Aldwyn asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Kira said. ¡°Something snapped under me.¡±

    She bent down into the inscrutable ckness. Her fingers scrabbled about on the floor by her wayward foot; they brushed across a long, smooth object, perhaps the length of her own arm, with shallow, curving grooves at either end.

    ¡°I think it might be some sort of bone,¡± she said tentatively.

    Aldwyn¡¯s shuffling gait moved nearer to her. She picked the object up and handed it to where she hoped he might be.

    ¡°Here, what do you think, Aldwyn?¡± she asked.Copyright N?v/el/Dra/ma.Org.

    ¡°Yes, definitely a bone of some sort,¡± he confirmed. ¡°Perhaps the femur of a horse or even arge ox, in my estimation.¡±

    ¡°So these things were walking over - they¡¯re bones, you think?¡± said Ellis.

    A rummaging, scratching sound came from around Aldwyn¡¯s feet.

    ¡°It seems a reasonable assumption,¡± he said.

    ¡°But how did they all get here?¡± Kira asked. Her rushing pulse already seemed to fear the answer.

    ¡°Well,¡± Aldwyn replied in hushed tones, ¡°evidently this was the cave of some sort of animal, and these are the remains of its meals.¡±

    ¡°Do you think it¡¯s still in here?¡± asked Ellis.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± Aldwyn replied. ¡°We should move cautiously and make as little noise as possible - but we also need to get out of here as quickly as we can - just in case.¡±

    An anxious shiver ran through Kira; the ominous, lurking ckness gathered more closely about her; she peered out into its thick, forbidding depths with more urgency - they must escape before their remains could be added to the covering of bones beneath her feet. The vague rustling noise had ceased and refused to break the painful silence.

    Aldwyn and Ellis shuffled and scratched their way forward.

    ¡°Wait!¡± she whispered - the menacing, hungry darkness stole the volume from her voice.

    ¡°It¡¯s difficult to tell after so long in these tunnels, but can you see - it seems to be a little lighter just up ahead there - over to our left?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t see anything,¡± said Ellis.

    ¡°My old eyes are much too weak to see in this gloom,¡± Aldwyn added. ¡°But if you can see something, then I think we should head towards it.¡±

    Kira shuffled forward; her arms and feet groped through the dense, obscure atmosphere.

    She must not to make a sound.

    She must not reveal their presence to some dreadful, unknown predator.

    The foul smell grew stronger and curdled about her; the voiceless, restless hum started again and echoed out to her - more constant and insistent than before.

    Her eyes squinted deeper into the sombre, stalking darkness; they seemed to trace the silhouetted edges of a cavern wall.

    Perhaps it was a corner - a steep bend in the cave, faintly illuminated from behind by a distant source of light - an exit?

    Her thoughts reeled and rushed - the warmth of a fire - food and water and freedom from the sinister, crushing rock.

    Or perhaps the cramped, weary days in the tunnel had tricked her eyes into the folly of hope?

    The brittle bones crunched and fractured beneath her slow, cautious feet.

    Taut anxiety prickled across her skin.

    Perhaps it was still there?

    The killer - the bone-maker?

    Waiting for her in the cowering ckness?

    Did every step take her closer to an exit - or closer to its deadly, unseen jaws?

    The nuns had often warned about her over-active imagination.

    Perhaps they had been right?

    She must fight through these fears and this smothering darkness.

    She must keep walking and get out.

    She must lead the others to safety.

    The distant, rustling drone bubbled louder; the rank, putrid odour clotted and deepened about her.

    Her tired arms and feet shuffled forward and struggled through her trembling apprehension; the quivering, rushing blood pulsed through her ears.

    A sudden, piercing stab stung the back of her right hand. The sharp, cutting shock jolted along her arm. She jerked it back to her chest and tried to stifle her cry, but a painful yelp escaped through her panicked lips.

    She wrung her hand and pressed it to her mouth; her tongue tasted the salty blood.

    ¡°What is it? What¡¯s wrong?¡± asked Ellis.

    ¡°Something just bit my hand,¡± she said.

 55. Around the Bend

    ¡°What was it?¡± Ellis asked. ¡°Did you manage to see it? Is it still there?¡±

    ¡°No - I think it flew off,¡± Kira replied.

    ¡°It flew?¡± Ellis whispered.

    ¡°We need to keep moving,¡± Aldwyn urged. ¡°Even I can see the patch of light ahead of us now, so we must be close to some sort of exit. We must press on. What ever it was, obviously has the advantage here in the dark - keep heading towards the light.¡±

    Kira pulled the sleeves of her tunic down to cover her arms; she trudged forward reluctantly, ready to retract her nervous, groping hands at any moment.

    But Aldwyn was right - they had to get out.

    Her feet crunched and stumbled a clumsy pathway; the mass of bones thickened and made it impossible to move quietly or easily; her alert adrenaline insisted she quicken her pace.

    She had to keep moving.Copyright N?v/el/Dra/ma.Org.

    She had to escape.

    The rattling, whirring drone grew louder and more agitated; the cloying, repellent smell tried to push her back - but the light - the dim, glowing, powdery patch of semi-gloom - grew brighter and more hopeful with every step.

    Her hair twitched and jerked by her ear.

    Her jittery goosebumps prickled.

    She ducked and swatted - but her iling hand did not connect with anything.

    Perhaps it had just been a draught?

    Perhaps it was the fresh breeze of an exit?

    But the stale air around her was perfectly still and grew heavier and more rank with the foul stench of decay.

    Perhaps her taut, over-anxious nerves had deceived her?

    She scoured the darkness; for the first time in days, her straining eyes could vaguely distinguish the faint, shadowy movements of herpanions.

    She must not give up hope.

    She must keep moving - an exit could not be far away now.

    ¡°Ow!¡± Aldwyn eximed. ¡°I¡¯ve just been bitten too.¡±

    ¡°Did you see what did it?¡± Ellis whispered.

    ¡°No,¡± Aldwyn replied, ¡°but I have my suspicions. We must keep moving - quickly now if we can - once we get round this bend in the cave we should be able to see the exit. Keep going!¡±

    Kira shuffled forward.

    The rugged cave walls which twisted into a sharp curve were clearly visible now - illuminated from a white fluorescence somewhere beyond them.

    Her pulse quickened and hoped; the brave patches of light drew her onward.

    Surely they were nearly out?

    The exit must be just around this corner.

    An expectant optimism pounded in her chest and rippled through her exhausted body.

    She scuffled around the bend and blinked into the shallow, dazzling glow of daylight.

    She grimaced and narrowed her eyes against the stinging re.

    A vast cavern stretched away before her, arching darkly overhead; its craggy, fractured walls eroded into intricate structures and formations; the bright promise of an exit zed at the far end.

    The droning, restive whirr screeched out in a painful din, then died back to near silence. The foetid, reeking stench choked her throat.

    The high, ck arch of the cave ceiling writhed and pulsed. A huge dark cloud broke free and swooped down, silhouetted against the far light of the exit. The shrieking mour erupted again, piercing and urgent.

    Kira squinted up at the spectacle; the blotch of dark mist twisted and turned, filtering through the ring brightness; her struggling eyes distinguished a swarming mass of small, ck, scaly creatures - their seething myriad bodies clicked and squealed in unison; the dry rattle of their wings menaced and reverberated across the cavern. The swirling confusion abruptly changed direction and darted back up again, melting into the shadowy depths of the dim rock ceiling.

    ¡°Haemagiles!¡± Aldwyn whispered. ¡°I feared as much. Fierce, flesh-eating nocturnal hunters. They¡¯re just waking up from their roost - but it must still be too light for them to venture outside.¡±

    ¡°What do we do?¡± Ellis asked. ¡°Should we just move slowly and hope they don¡¯t hear us?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Aldwyn replied, ¡°they would detect our body heat before we could get past them and strip the meat from our bones where we stood - our only hope is to rush through to the exit before they wake fully - they won¡¯t follow us if we can get close enough to the light.¡±

    Kira¡¯s skin shuddered; her apprehensive stomach lurched and jabbed. She blinked out towards the beckoning brightness - so warm and weing - but still such a daunting distance away.

    Perhaps Aldwyn was right - it might just be close enough to sprint to?

    She coughed against the heavy, foul miasma.

    Her subdued vision adjusted and assessed; the way to the exit was not clear - the floor of the cave was coated in a thick, oozingyer of guano, its piercing, acrid stench attacked her nose and throat; she wiped the tears away as it stung into the back of her eyes. In ces, the noxious sludge had piled up into conical mounds and hillocks - some even taller than Kira herself - and formed a rotting maze of stinking, glutinous obstacles, which blocked her hopes of escape.

    Her doubtful legs ached and measured the dubious distance - but the light streaming in from the exit would shield and protect them - if they could get close enough to it - they wouldn¡¯t have to get all the way out.

    And what choice did she have?

    She would have to risk it.

    They all would.

    She clenched her nervous fists; her stomach trembled in queasy adrenaline spasms. Her weary body did not want to run; her cramped legs were not ready to risk everything.

    The restless, fluctuating haemagiles shimmered and clicked.

    ¡°Courage!¡± she willed to her jaded limbs.

    ¡°Now!¡± Aldwyn urged, ¡°Run!¡±

 56. Towards the Light

    Kira charged forward as fast as her stiff, exhausted body could propel her. Her first bold strides carried her onto the crust of soft, sticky floor; the oozing guano gave way and sped at her ankles; the heavy, acrid ammonia gripped her throat and made every breath a painful, rasping spasm.

    She drove her determined legs onward; she must find a pathway through the foetid, stinking swamp; she must keep moving; the distant glimmering light was her only hope of survival.

    Several ck silhouettes swooped low; their rough wings ttered and skittered around her terrified ears; their sharp mouths gouged and ripped at the skin of her forehead and face.

    She fought back the urge to scream; she forced her head down and thrashed at the air above her, desperate to keep the insidious creatures away from her eyes and mouth; the bitter, cutting bites stung deep into the vulnerable, exposed flesh of her hands and arms.

    Her pounding feet sank deeper into the reeking mire; she struggled to drive through the cloying, boggy morass; the vicious swirl of piercing, puncturing wounds increased.

    She battled through the traumatic pain and dug her weary legs in harder, faster; she must ignore the blistering, causterations and focus only on her escape - the protective shielding light flooding in from the mouth of the cave was her only hope of salvation.

    The thick, squelching strides of Ellis and Aldwyn sshed out above the thump of her own turbulent heart. The bleak, obscuring gloom brightened with every painful footfall - but still the shadows of the cave persisted - the deadly distance still remained.

    A shrill, shattering shriek crashed down from the dark ceiling above. The hopeful light of the exit flickered and wavered, confused by the deafening swarm of predators. Kira did not dare look up; she must focus, she must keep running - it was her only chance.

    An intense, collective screech sted through the echoing rocks; her ears stabbed and spiked in pain; the slimy floor darkened with rapid darting shadows.

    A blizzard of voracious ck swooped and engulfed her; the insatiable stinging bites blotted out the light from the exit. Ellis cried out beside her; the hostile swarm scavenged at his neck and shoulders and face. Through the dizzying, aggressive swirl she caught a momentary glimpse of Aldwyn - his cheeks and forehead gashed open, his face spattered with blood and creased in pain, his arms dripping with a writhing mass of the rapacious creatures.

    A huge devouring cloud surged at her head; she drove her straining body forward and tried to shield her face with her arms; a gue of sharp, savage bites ripped and tore at her flesh; an unforgiving torrent of tiny piercing, stabbing mouths burrowed through her tunic and punctured her stinging shoulders; her helpless, obscured senses were blinded by the painful, incessant thronging drone of their wings and shrill cry of their menacing squeals.

    The insidious, seething weight pressed down on her; the wretched ooze grasped tighter at her weary legs.

    But she must keep running - she must keep moving; the dark of the cave would grow lighter with every heaving step she could wrench out of her beleaguered body.

    She thrust forward and forced herself to squint out through her arms and the buzzing, swirling vortex.

    She was well over half-way.

    Surely she could make it?

    Surely the Surrounder could not be so cruel - to bring her all this way just to fail now, so miserably and in such pain?

    The churning wall of living, biting ckness swarmed at her body; she screwed her eyes tight shut, and tried to shield her face under her arms. She crashed through the whirring maelstrom of hungry, stabbing mouths, unable to see, or hear, or think properly - she only knew that she must keep forcing her wilting body towards the light, or suffer the terrifying consequences of failure.

    The ravenous weight of haemagiles sunk into her shoulders and hair; she staggered on blindly; her clumsy foot stumbled and sank into a deep pit of the thick, sludgy excrement, almost to her knee.

    She floundered and toppled to her left, and thrust out a desperate hand to prevent herself from falling face-first into the evil stench of the guano.

    Her palm pped hard on the sticky, slimy surface.

    She tried to push herself up, out of the wretched, filthy gunge; her fingers sank in deeper - lost below the surface of the foul sludge - and snared her hand in ce.

    Her face was exposed; she thrashed frantically with her one free arm, but could not fight off the vicious, incessant attacks; a myriad of piercing bites stung and gouged at her flesh.

    The strident, unending predatory screech overwhelmed her reeling mind.

    She squeezed her eyes and mouth even tighter shut; she twisted and wriggled her trapped leg, determined to free herself and keep moving; the seeping quagmire squelched and swallowed her further down into its foetid foulness.

    A cold weakness of fear shivered across her drained body.

    She must move.

    She must get out or die where she was.

    She leant her weight forward and tried to lever herself out with her free leg and arm.

    The heaving storm of voracious haemagiles redoubled their angry onught.

    She pushed and kicked; the tenacious stench sped her; the deep ammonia fumes burnt acrid tears from her eyes.

    The thin surface crust of the guano cracked and swallowed her other leg and arm.

    The marauding haemagiles tore at her from all directions - her back, her legs, her arms and head; she kicked and wrestled her captive, useless limbs; she exhorted her enfeebled frame to fight, to push, to escape - but the iling panic of her efforts only squashed her down deeper into the stinking, sludgy quagmire.

    Her weary body faltered and sagged; her energy and hope drained and bled; the heaving cyclone tore and raked at her doomed flesh.

    She could not hold out much longer.

    She forced herself to nce forward - perhaps to use her eyes for one final time - to blink through the terrible dark blizzard at the light which flooded in from the cave entrance, still a cruel and impossible distance away.

    The bold outlines of Aldwyn and Ellis hobbled clear, into the shining depths of the waiting sunlight.

    They had made it!

    They were both safe!

    A shattering wave of relief and sadness fragmented across her.

    Herpanions did not deserve to die so cruelly, so wretchedly after all the kindness and help they had given her.

    It was her fault they were there at all.

    But now they would live.

    Ellis would live.

    He would live - but without her.

    Her dark consciousness came in fits and starts; it drifted beyond her control.

    Blood oozed down across her creased face and split from her tormented forehead.

    A torrential weight of the tiny pulsating creatures seethed and pressed on her; their ferocious frenzy stung and carved into her flesh.All content ? N/.?vel/Dr/ama.Org.

    Her ears blocked with wriggling, barbed teeth; her hair buried under a crawling, burrowing mass of jabbing, bitter mouths.

    The writhing, unceasing pestilence forced its way mercilessly into her nostrils; she held her thudding breath and knew her final despairing moments were close; the irresistible, feasting burden crushed her weakened body down into the suffocating, putrid faeces; her hope of reaching the daylight extinguished forever with every fresh, piercing bite.

    Her lungs stretched taut; her will sapped; she wanted to scream and gasp for breath; she opened her mouth, but the remorseless invaders stormed and wriggled between her choking lips; they tore at her tongue and the inside of her cheeks; they suffocated her as they gorged on the fleshy parts at the back of her vulnerable throat.

    She knew her next strangled breath would be herst - she would soon be making her own personal contribution to the pile of bones she had so recently been walking over.

    It would not be a pleasant way to be called into the arms of the Surrounder - but the nuns had taught that none of us can ever choose how, or when, that meeting would take ce.

    A dark weakness overtook her like none she had ever felt or known and drained her of all thought and energy.

    Her head swam in dizzying, ck waters.

    She could no longer sense the millions of tiny cuts to her flesh, only the rapid beating of her own distant heart; she clung on desperately for a final few vital moments of her life.

    She could no longer breathe or think or feel.

    A sudden spasm of tightness gripped at her shoulder; a vast engulfing ckness dissolved and overwhelmed her.

 57. From a Hillside

    Ellis slumped from Aldwyn¡¯s shoulder and copsed onto the turf outside the cave. He shielded his eyes against the overwhelming weight of light; the wet blood oozed down across his torn face and dripped from his stinging arms; his breath came in thick, spasming gasps; his body, his thoughts, his mind was so weak, so drained - he could not remember ever feeling so hopelessly exhausted.

    The dazzling softness of the grass unsettled his limbs; the bewildering re of colour; the purity and freshness of the air; the strange, empty silence of this new world assaulted his dimmed senses.

    His heart thudded furiously.

    Aldwyn chanted a low, guttural intonation; his dazed ears could not make out the words - perhaps the confusion of his blinded, jaded thoughts - perhaps the strangeness of thenguage - perhaps the shrill, chilling screech of the haemagiles still drowned and stung into his battered consciousness.

    Aldwyn turned away and ran back to the gaping darkness of the cave.

    What was he doing?

    It was nothing but madness to return to that carnage!

    The star-taint had taken his mind!

    Ellis squinted into the harsh light whichshed down at him.

    Where was Kira?

    Why wasn¡¯t she out here too?

    A shivering horror stunned through his enfeebled frame.

    Kira!

    He must save her!

    He must get up and help Aldwyn.

    His drained, debilitated body floundered and failed.

    If she died because of his weakness, his helplessness?

    No!

    He could never allow it.

    He staggered to his feet and wobbled towards the cave. His legs crumbled beneath his tottering frame; he mmed into the craggy rock entrance and clung to its abrasive support; his limbs convulsed in searing pain from the gouges and bites to his flesh; he grimaced and fought - his wounds were nothingpared to the piercing trauma of letting Kira down.

    He coughed the breath back into his anguished lungs and strained his eyes into the dim shadows of the cave.

    The seething blizzard of tiny ck creatures obscured his disjointed glimpses; Aldwyn was kneeling over Kira¡¯s body, gripping at her shoulders.All content ? N/.?vel/Dr/ama.Org.

    She was face-down, partly hidden behind a mound of dung; his terrified vision could not tell him if she was still alive.

    His master¡¯s words echoed and rumbled louder; the squealing mour of the haemagiles punctured the fractured air; angrier, more ferocious; malevolent and dismal. A sudden shocking sh of blue light arced up from where Aldwyn sped Kira¡¯s body; it crashed towards the ceiling; a fierce, crackling cone of violent, unrefined energy sted a pathway up through the swirling fog of haemagiles.

    The blinding, sparking pulse rolled and smashed into the walls of the cavern with a savage, thundering current. Ellis screwed his eyes shut and dug his fingers deep into the rugged stone; the st roared out past him, tugging at his clothes and hair; the tearful, grasping stench of guano was swept away - disrupted by the rich primacy of the vehement blue discharge.

    His confused mind reeled; his stinging arms seemed to tingle with a dark, twisting strangeness; he shuddered, and the explosion died back to silence.

    He squinted into the depths of the cave; scouring, searching. The oppressive, screeching din had ceased; the marauding cloud of predators were held for a brief uncertain instant - suspended in the shocked, silent air - then they crashed to the stunned floor in a devastating, copsing wave.

    What had happened?

    What was that spell?

    Where were Kira and his master?

    Perhaps the convulsive st had killed them both?

    Perhaps they were both trapped in there and needed his help?

    The dark blood oozed out from his shoulders and arms - but he could heal himselfter - the patient alwayses first - Aldwyn had taught him that much - he must reserve his strength to help his friends.

    He levered himself along the wall and stared into the silent gloom. Aldwyn emerged through the dark shadows, from behind a foetid, lumpy mound; Kira was draped across his arms, pale and lifeless.

    Sinister, forbidding doubts stabbed at him.

    He tried to run to them - but his legs refused to carry him to where his thoughts had already flown.

    Was she alive?

    Her fragile body dangled limply.

    She obviously wasn¡¯t conscious.

    His heart thudded distantly, sweating coldly within his chest.

    Had Aldwyn got to her in time?

    Was he even trying to save her?

    Perhaps the st from his spell had killed Kira as well as the swarming gue of haemagiles?

    But when had his master ever tried to harm anyone?

    But that spell?

    What was that tone and hue?

    Not the purity of sky blue that the Magik that Heals usually produced - but something deeper - a strange violet taint, tinged with yellows and greens around its burning edges.

    Surely she would survive?

    She could not die - not now - not when there was a chance of happiness, a future.

    Aldwyn had not brought him up to pray to the Surrounder - ¡®a verbose superstition¡¯ he called it - but Kira seemed to put great store in it.

    Perhaps he could try, if only for her sake?

    His exhausted mind scrambled for some suitable words - something to help her, to make her safe - but his panicked head did not know how or where to begin.

    Aldwyn¡¯s heavy footsteps staggered out; heid Kira on the grass a little way from him.

    Ellis squinted back into the daylight; he fought to focus at the brightness of their arrival.

    He crawled to her limp body; his taut ears strained for the reassurance of her breathing.

    Aldwyn flopped down nearby.

    Perhaps this was a sign of hope?

    If Kira¡¯s life had been in any peril, the old man would already be acting to heal her - it was not his custom to leave patients alone if they were still in danger - he had known Aldwyn sit up through the night and refuse to eat if his patient required it.

    But perhaps he was still fatigued from the haemagiles and the tunnel? Or perhaps the star-taint had made him forgetful of his duties?

    Or perhaps he knew it was already toote?

    An insipid, shallow breath rose and fell within her.

    A relieved pulse spiked through him.

    She was alive!

    Aldwyn had saved her - somehow.

    Perhaps she was still in danger or pain?

    Aldwyn might be too exhausted to heal her properly?

    It would be best if he made sure for himself.

    He examined her frail body for signs of injury, as his master had diligently taught him.

    The exposed skin of her face and arms and legs seemedpletely unharmed - there were no cuts or bite marks, or any other apparent blemish.

    Her hands and feet were filthy from the grime of the haemagiles - but surely she must have sustained countless stinging lesions - together with some heavy bruises from crawling in the tunnels?

    He nced across to Aldwyn - his master¡¯s face was also free from cuts and damage and blood.

    Presumably it was something to do with that spell?

    But in all his years, the old master had never produced an effect like that before.

    And what were those strange guttural words that Aldwyn had chanted as he ran back into the cave?

    They did not appear in any of the scrolls that he had read.

    True, there were still several tomes on the shelves that he had not yet perused all the way through - but there had already been a number of asions when it was all too clear that Aldwyn had far more reading in him than the select few books he stored in his cottage.

    He kept meaning to ask, but the time just never seemed right. He did not want to pester the old man - he had been nothing but kind since taking him in as his votary - and Aldwyn would tell him if he really wanted him to know.

    There was that time on the road back from alderman ke¡¯s house - but Aldwyn had made it clear that he was in no mood to discuss his past, so things were left at that.

    But what was that spell?

    Not one that Aldwyn had ever taught him - it was something far deeper and more powerful than he had ever witnessed before - something that touched at the very edges of the Magik that Healed.

    Kira¡¯s breathing steadied and strengthened.

    The colour tinted slowly back into her face.

    She must be safe - or at least out of any immediate danger.

    Ellis copsed back on the soft, green turf and gasped the clean, fresh air into his weary lungs.

    An exhaustive relief flooded across his body.

    Thete afternoon birds had just begun their tender songs - there was still time yet before the sun would disappear.

    He should heal himself now - the others were safe and they would need to move before night allowed any surviving haemagiles to emerge for their nocturnal hunt.

    He reached deep down into his consciousness and chanted the familiar words. shes and fleeting visions of the strange spell kept threatening to interrupt his thoughts; he calmed his mind and pushed them aside while hepleted his task.

    He opened his eyes and blinked about him; his dazzled senses ustomed themselves to the light. The soft, soothing turf beneath his body was peculiar and spongy after the days spent cramped in a tunnel of unseeing, unfeeling rock; it was unsteady and unreliable and weing.

    His disjointed thoughts missed theck of air and space - the dense echoing sound, the deep, blinding darkness - trapped by the suffocating fear of being crushed and entombed forever.

    The turbulent, rushing sensation of relief flooded across his grateful body.

    And Kira was safe.

    They were all safe.

    Nearby, a faint beck gurgled down through the grass and mosses; its gentle, life-giving rhythm wove its way into the calmness of his breath.

    He crawled over to the stream and drank a little of the refreshing, cool liquid.

    Aldwyn was sitting up. He gazed off across the sloping valley below them, toward the far hills.

    He looked tired - and small wonder - the master had practically carried both him and then Kira out of the cave.

    And all the while, having to deal with the withering attack of the biting haemagiles himself!

    The old man must be stronger than he had appeared - perhaps the depth of his magik had sustained him somehow?

    Ellis moved back, closer to Kira.

    Hey on his side and absorbed thenguid golden glow of daylight and the calm of the open air.

    The gentle valley rolled away below them; its slowly curled ferns leading down through the rich russet-orange and deciduous reds of the woonds, to the edged browning-yellow strips of farnd which carpeted the far side of the dale. From the distant, white farmhouse, held snugly in the wide, rolling folds, a careless plume of smoke drifted up and caressed the slow evening sky.

    On the far slopes, a solitary shepherd brought down his bleating flocks from the high mountain pastures to the meandering safety of the lond fields.

    From the edge of the woond, a ckbird sang out its deep praise for the golden evening skies.

    When the dense, ck rocks had crushed in on him, he had never thought to experience such wonders again.

    Aldwyn was still sitting, staring at the scene.

    He looked pallid and drawn. Still exhausted no doubt. Perhaps the weary days in the tunnel had taken more out of the master than he and Kira had realised - perhaps it had taken it out of all of them?

    But there was something else - he had seen that expression hang across his master¡¯s face before. Sometimes,te in the evenings, when an illness seemed to have him beaten, when a patient was facing danger - he would tug at the books and scrolls on his shelves, searching, scouring for a solution - until he was certain he could perform a cure.

    ¡°I saw what you did,¡± Ellis said. ¡°You risked your life - going back in there for Kira like that. But what was that sh of light? How did you do it? Can you teach me?¡±

    Aldwyn slowly rubbed his hand over his chin; he stared out nkly across to the far hills

    The beck sshed and gurgled down into the soft dale below, encouraged by thest warmth of the sun.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been looking at the shape of this valley,¡± Ellis continued, ¡°I¡¯m sure we once passed here on the way to Mrs Doffle¡¯s - you remember, she had problems with her arthritis two summers ago. If I¡¯m right, it seems we¡¯ve somehow managed to cross over the mountains ande down on the other side of the forest - probably somewhere near Higgsby.¡±

    Aldwyn¡¯s eyes gazed along the length of the valley, but did not seem to focus on the distant fields.

    The ckbird teased out the warm charm of its melody against the vibrancy of the glowing autumn.

    ¡°Aldwyn?¡± Ellis inquired.

    Aldwyn sighed and rubbed his hand across his cheek and neck, then scratched at his chin again. His gaze left the far horizon and settled reluctantly on the quiet turf just in front of him.

    ¡°A storm ising,¡± he said.

 58. An Overturned Cart

    Kira strolledfortably along the verdantne.

    The low autumn sun winked down at her through the thinning canopy of trees; it glinted off the muddy puddles left fromst night¡¯s rain and bathed the track in soft cadences of mild, yellow warmth.

    The faint, mottled birdsong orchestrated a rich score below the chatter of herpanions; she inhaled the sweet freshness of the air and the fragrant subtleties of the moist earth.

    A shallow ditch ran alongside the path; in the lush of its damp fertility, the purple-jewelled brambles shone against the flushing brilliance of autumn¡¯s ruddy hues; discrete clusters of mushrooms peeped out at intervals through the fallen leaf litter and the slowly bronzing bracken.

    Her happy shoulders rxed. Her imagination had told her that this was exactly how the outside world should be - a pleasant, well-worn pathway, leading through the rolling beauty of the countryside, with trusted friends forpany and fellowship.

    asionally, her thoughts ruffled and flickered; they insisted on reminding her of the boredom and frustration of the Convent - the life she was now sauntering back towards.

    She was keen to see Amber again - but she could not be certain that she was quite ready to say goodbye to Aldwyn - or to Ellis.

    Around a tree-lined bend, an open-topped wagon floundered with its wheels lodged in the ditch.

    A plump woman in a crimson-patterned head-scarf waved frantically and called out as she moved towards them, clutching a bundled infant to her chest.

    ¡°Oh sirs, please help! It¡¯s my husband! His leg! He fell out of the cart when our horse took a fright andnded us in the ditch, and his leg is all broken! And then my poor boy! He fell out after his father and hurt his arm! Oh sirs, what am I to do? Help us, please! Have mercy on us in the Surrounder¡¯s good name!¡±

    Kira¡¯s body prickled with caution; fraught memories of being captured by the vers prodded and shed.

    Aldwyn stepped forward.

    ¡°I am a healer,¡± he said. ¡°I will see what can be done.¡±

    ¡°Oh! Say that you can save him, master healer!¡± the woman eximed. ¡°Say that you can! For I am dying with the worry of it all here, master healer, I am just dying from it all!¡±

    The wagon was burdened with severalrge, rough sacks.

    A muscr brown horse with a tawny mane stood nearby, munching on the thick vegetation of the ditch. It snorted in their direction as they approached, then continued with its meal.

    Aldwyn walked round the wagon to the far side; a slight-looking farmer sat wincing on the verge.

    ¡°It¡¯s my leg, master healer - I was throwed clear of the wagon butnded awkwardly. And my son is hurt too - see to him first, if you please - he put his arms out to stop his fall - it seems his shoulder is in a bad way.¡±

    A young boy of four or five was huddled on the ground next to his father, clutching at his arm, shivering and grimacing.

    The rotund woman bustled her way through and stood over the group.

    ¡°He was a fool to harness old Snowy,¡± she said, pointing towards the horse, ¡°when he knewed all about his temper. I told him not to do it master healer, but would he listen to me? No! Not one bit of it! And off he goes and harnesses old Snowy without so much as a second thought - and now look at us! I ask you - just look at us now!¡±

    Aldwyn crouched and ran his fingers gently down the man¡¯s leg, then examined the boy¡¯s arm and shoulder.

    Kira sat nearby; her curious thoughts bubbled and intrigued.

    Aldwyn was a magikant - he had even healed her own legs back in his cottage - but she had never actually seen him practice his profession and wield the magik.

    An expectant fascination pulled at her attention. She lent in closer.

    Ellis moved round, near to his master.

    Kira¡¯s pulse quickened.

    Would he also be involved?

    ¡°And here¡¯s me so upset with it all,¡± thergedy announced. Her cheeks quivered with emotion as she wiped them dry with her kerchief.

    ¡°Why, I hardly knewed how to breathe, let alone talk, what with the fright of it all.¡±

    Kira¡¯s puzzled thoughts could not help but notice that, despite her protestations to the contrary, the good woman was still clearly very much able to talk.

    ¡°I will see to this man¡¯s leg,¡± Aldwyn said to Ellis. ¡°Your learning is more than enough to deal with the boy¡¯s dislocated arm.¡±

    A warming glow ran through Kira.

    Ellis would assist with the healing.

    ¡°Oh, say that you can save him, sir! Say that you can!¡± the woman continued. ¡°He is a worthless fool of a husband, but he¡¯s the only one I¡¯ve got. And, despite all his faults, I does love him dearly! Although he doesn¡¯t deserve one such as me, he truly doesn¡¯t.¡±

    Aldwyn did not appear to pay the gooddy any heed; he muttered a low, rhythmical chant below his breath and closed his eyes to the world.

    His voice grew louder and more insistent; he pulled back the tattered rags of his robe from his forearms. A series of strange, swirling blue symbols began to glow from beneath his pallid skin; they shone out even against the warmth of the morning sun; his face rxed into a peaceful repose; he seemed younger, more serene than normal.

    Kira shuddered. Her mind red back to the Grand Harmonist and the Ceremony; the shocking panic; the attack; her ssmates; the awful smell; it all seemed so real, so close - would the rushing, gnawing anxiety ever leave her alone?

    The horse snorted uneasily and shook the tassels of its mane; its head dipped back down again, and it resumed munching nonchntly.

    Kira¡¯s thoughts calmed and cleared.

    There was no danger here.

    It was only Aldwyn - he was healing an injured man.

    Ellis knelt by the boy and muttered some words.

    Kira¡¯s curiositypelled her to stand; she moved around the cart a little, so as to get a better view.

    The stern look of concentration on Ellis¡¯s face made him seem older than before and more serious. His eyes brightened to a deeper, more sincere blue, which almost shone in their rich lustre. Her thoughts meandered and drifted back to the wolves and the chasm on the mountain - the first time she had really noticed his gaze, as he dangled below her helplessly.

    He closed his eyes as his deep chant intensified.

    The child¡¯s face was already ruddy and tear-stained from his injury; he cried out andined to his mother that he did not like what was happening.

    ¡°Oh young miss,¡± said therge woman, ¡°will you take the babbie from me while Ifort little Willum?¡±

    She pressed the infant into Kira¡¯s arms and moved off without waiting for a reply.

    The warm, wriggling bundle kicked and squirmed next to Kira¡¯s body. She looked down at the helpless child: had she also once been such a tiny dependant thing?

    Of course, she had seen babies before - several infants had been left at the foundling-wheel during her time at the Venerated Convent of the Sinless Moon. Perhaps their parents were too ill, or too poor, to look after the children themselves, so the unfortunate babies had been left with the nuns - abandoned, just as Kira herself had been - to the strict whims of religious life.

    But as a novice, she had never been allowed to actually touch the mewling youngsters, much less to pick one of them up or hold them so close. Partly this was because it was not her role to perform such duties; and partly because the nuns did not want the infants to be spoilt by too much unnecessary attention from the younger girls.

    An uneasy weight of responsibility pressed down on her. The strange, new experience concerned and troubled her - perhaps she was not doing it correctly?

    Perhaps her clumsy hands might drop such a precious bundle?

    Perhaps she should tighten her grip to make sure?

    But there again, if she held it too tightly, she may identally squash the child, or hurt it.

    She stared at the dark pink wrinkles of its creased little face. She had thought that only the older nuns had such lines etched into their brows and around their draw-string mouths - but the baby seemed healthy and contented enough.

    Aldwyn stretched out his arms behind his head and sighed as hey back on the grassy verge. Ellis was already rxing on the turf by the wagon.

    A frustrated annoyance jabbed across Kira¡¯s mind - her musings about the baby had distracted her from watching the healing magik she had been so curious about and had so wanted to see.All content ? N/.?vel/Dr/ama.Org.

    The infant¡¯s mother was already back; she cooed over her child.

    ¡°There now! Mummy¡¯s here again! Oh miss, he seems so snug and happy in your arms - I can see he¡¯s taken to you right away miss, and only look on this as being good omen for when you have children of your own.¡±

    Kira gathered her flustered thoughts.

    ¡°Oh, but I¡¯m a novice,¡± she exined. ¡°We¡¯re on our way back to my convent now - so I don¡¯t expect I will have a family.¡±

    ¡°Oh, but bless you, young miss,¡± thedy continued, ¡°and don¡¯t I have eyes in my own head? I¡¯ve seen the way young master healer does look at you - and you don¡¯t seem to mind it so much, or I¡¯m no judge of character!¡±

    An ufortable prickle of heat crept across Kira¡¯s body. She stared down intently at the baby.

    ¡°Why I¡¯d be blowed down to think the two of you won¡¯t be married off by the turn of next summer!¡± thedymented.

    The spiky heat rose up from Kira¡¯s toes and flushed across her cheeks.

    Hopefully, if she kept looking down and avoiding eye contact, the woman would go away.

    ¡°By the Surrounder¡¯s good ears, how you do blush, young miss!¡± the woman continued to chirrup. ¡°And doesn¡¯t that colour tell its own story? I should say so!¡± sheughed.

    The injured man stood up doubtfully and rubbed his leg. He hobbled for a short time and held the wagon for support until he was able to walk unaided.

    ¡°There, master healer, good as new - thanks to your skill and kindness,¡± he said.

    ¡°Yes,¡± his gooddy wife added, ¡°but no thanks to you and your harnessing of old Snowy.¡± She shot him a disapproving nce. ¡°How many times must I tell you before you finally start listening to me?¡±

    The man rubbed his chin; he opened his mouth as if he was about to risk making a reply to his beloved wife - but then clearly thought better of it and set about working with the horse to pull the cart back onto the pathway.

    The woman grabbed the baby and moved away.

    Kira¡¯s shoulders rxed back into their ce; her empty arms missed the warmth of the child, but her relieved blood returned to its natural course, now that she was no longer the subject of the good woman¡¯s kindly attentions.

    ¡°Well!¡± therge woman continued at Aldwyn. ¡°We might still make it to Tunville by sundown - despite my fool of a husband¡¯s adventures, master healer. May the Surrounder smile upon you for your kindness. We have no coin to pay you, but only these few old ends and rags we were taking to market - but you are wee to help yourself to any that may take your fancy,¡± she said and motioned toward the sacks in the back of the wagon.

    ¡°Thank you mistress,¡± Aldwyn replied. ¡°My robe, as you can see, is now little more than a collection of shreds, so I will take that - if I may?¡± he said as he reached for a thick, brown cloak.

    His eyes wandered across the other sacks and rested on some dull-coloured woollen items.

    ¡°Oh, and <i>these</i> may alsoe in useful, if you can spare them,¡± he said.

 59. An Unexpected Visitor

    Father Steadman turned to warm his back before the crackle of the fire. Perhaps if his legs could enjoy a little heat, he would be better able to think of a solution?

    Or at least it would buy him some time in front of the others while he thought.

    He gripped his fingers behind his back and inhaled the brief fragrant respite of rich beeswax polish which clung to his chambers.

    The other members of the Pleiad muttered amongst themselves as they sat around the room - thefort of his chairs had not been matched by the pleasantness of the conversation, and they remained locked in stubborn congress, unable to agree a way forward.

    The hard frustration bit into him - surely it would be easier just to sh their heads together, or force them to ept the rule of his rank?

    But the Church did not function like the militia of his younger days, and he had often been forced intopromise against his better judgement. Such was the price of leadership.

    The politics of the Church were vexatious enough - but then these infuriating witches!

    But at least reports of their attacks seemed to have eased off recently, following the death of the Grand Harmonist.

    What were they nning?

    Was this some cunning feint?

    It was difficult to discern any tactic or strategy in their movements.

    And how could he convince Caldor and his clique to ept his decisions, when he could not even be certain of them himself?

    At least the people still ced their faith in him - he saw it in their greetings and expressions every day.

    He must not to let them down.

    But how could he give them the protection they deserved against these attacks - or worse, against the threat yet toe?

    And without the help of the Harmonist?

    Were his abilities really so rare that no-one had been discovered who was strong enough to seed him?

    A Church without a Grand Harmonist was a weak church - and a weak Church was vulnerable to attacks from outside - and from within.

    His eyes flickered toward Caldor.

    The dark-robed priest caught his gaze and shuffled in his chair.

    Yes, he must take control of the situation and wrest the initiative away from his second inmand.

    Now was not the time to betray any sign of weakness.

    Steadman opened his mouth; a flurry of hurried footsteps approached his study door and disrupted his chance to speak.

    Brother Simeon knocked and entered.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry to disturb you, your eminence,¡± he bowed, ¡°but Talmadge has just arrived at the gates, and insists on seeing you.¡±

    A disturbing ripple of unease hushed across the others in the room.

    ¡°Talmadge? Here?¡± Steadman replied. The furrows spread and deepened across his brow.

    ¡°But we have not heard word back that any of our messengers seeded in finding him.¡±

    The awkward legs of Odal¡¯s chair scraped on the floor.

    ¡°No matter,¡± Steadman continued, ¡°it seems one of them must have got through. Show him in at once - and please bring him directly to me.¡±

    The apostle bowed again and retreated.

    Lanqvist pressed his staff to the floor and sat up in his chair.

    Caldor shivered and took a sip of wine.

    Perhaps the fire and luxury of the panelled apartment were not enough to protect against the advances of winter?

    ¡°Well gentlemen,¡± Steadman announced, ¡°perhaps our luck is changing - evidently one of the messengers we sent has finallypleted their task and brought our old friend to us.¡±

    ¡°Or perhaps he¡¯s here on other business?¡± ventured Fencliffe.

    ¡°It¡¯s too much of a co-incidence for that,¡± said Lanqvist.

    ¡°The Great Surrounder has brought him to us,¡± said Rowe.

    ¡°Or He has decided to curse us with this interfering presence,¡± Caldor added.

    ¡°In any case,¡± said Steadman, as he stepped toward the centre of the room once more, ¡°events have conspired to bring him to us in our hour of need - we should not waste this opportunity.¡±

    Only the bright snap and sputter of the fire broke the tense apprehension which silenced the room again.

    ¡°You know,¡± said Fencliffe, ¡°I think I <i>will</i> have that drink after all. Mind if I help myself?¡±

    ¡°It must be ten years since Ist saw him,¡± said Byram.Material ? of N?velDrama.Org.

    ¡°More than that - nearer to fifteen, if I¡¯m any kind of judge,¡± said Odal.

    ¡°We always got on well - but obviously we parted on ¡­ less amicable terms,¡± Lanqvist pondered.

    ¡°He always was a queer fish,¡± Fencliffe said. ¡°Going off in his own directions - who ever knows what these magikants are really up to? You weren¡¯t the only one he fell out with.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I am often d that we have the strength of our faith to guide us,¡± said Rowe, ¡°rather than be left to deal with the magik.¡±

    ¡°For all their apparent power, it is never clear to me whether they wield the magik, or it wields them,¡± said Odal.

    ¡°We should not be so naive as to trust their loyalty or true motives,¡± Caldor nodded.

    Steadman paced the woven rug between his desk and the firece and observed his colleagues.

    His memories prickled uneasily across his tense shoulders.

    It was true that there were some unfortunate events surrounding Talmadge¡¯s departure from the Church.

    Perhaps he could have handled it better?

    But it was his first task as newly-elected Patrex - he was in a weak position, and had to demonstrate his authority.

    Surely all that was forgotten now?

    So many years had passed.

    Why else would the old man have agreed to return?

    And yet - there was something in what the others were saying.

    The stifling silence gripped the room again.

    Rowe coughed and sipped at his wine.

    ¡°We should handle this very carefully,¡± Caldor began, ¡°and only let him know what he needs to.¡±

    ¡°No, I disagree,¡± said Byram. ¡°We must be open and honest and tell him everything, so that he has a full understanding of what is at stake and how best to help us.¡±

    ¡°He should certainly be made aware of the dangers of our situation,¡± said Rowe.

    ¡°If he hasn¡¯t already discovered it for himself,¡± Lanqivst added.

    ¡°Gentlemen, we must tell him <i>all</i>,¡± Steadman dered decisively, ¡°so that he can best decide for himself how to proceed in these matters. As you have already pointed out, this stuff of witches and magik are beyond our own knowledge and understanding - we are men of faith. Besides, he deserves to know everything, especially after what happened¡­¡±

    The sharp echo of footsteps in the corridor reverberated into the study.

    Steadman clenched his fingers and took a steadying breath as a crisp knock rattled the door.

 60. Talmadge

    Brother Simeon entered the study and bowed.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry Patrex, but Talmadge insisted on being apanied by his votaries, and refused to leave them at the gates, as I asked.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fine, Brother Simeon,¡± Steadman replied, ¡°show them all in - and then deal with that other errand, please.¡±

    A rough tter of boots on the polished floor echoed into the chamber -the vaulted ceiling of the corridor amplified the sound. A slightly stooped, elderly man, dressed almost entirely in torn and dirty rags, entered. His dishevelled smell and worn appearance contrasted sharply against the cleanfort of the room.

    Steadman peered at him and searched deep into his memories; the man¡¯s head and face were partially covered by a woollen cowl, which made it difficult to determine too many of his features - a rough, grey stubble blurred across his jaw - but it could not disguise such a distinctive chin.

    The crumpled clothing was draped across a wiry frame - he seemed smaller - and certainly much thinner - than the picture in Steadman¡¯s mind; and yet, somehow, his presence in the room had be more tangible, more powerful and intense than previously, as if the magikant had shrunk in size, but grown in authority.

    But beneath the collection of filthy, tattered cloth, those same alert inquisitive eyes pierced out; rich with an ufortable knowledge; prating and usatory.

    Steadman shifted his weight; his fingers tried to grip for thefort of a sword that was no longer by his side - at least in the carnage of battle you knew how to face your foe - but this meeting, like the old man standing before him, could be as unpredictable as the blustering autumn winds.

    Perhaps he too should have had some of the wine.

    The ragged man was nked by two acolytes - callow youths, untested inbat, who had obviously yet to taste the bitter disappointments that life had to offer.

    They stood in silent obedience behind him. Like their master, their faces were also partly obscured by heavy hoods.

    All themon folk knew that such garments should be removed within the sanctity of the Cathedral - more especially so in the presence of the Patrex himself.

    No doubt Talmadge had instructed them to do this.

    To provoke him, perhaps?

    No - his ways were much more subtle than that.

    They stared down intently at the polished floor, clearly determined to avoid eye contact.

    It was difficult to be sure beneath their mud-spattered coverings, but the one on the left almost certainly had a feminine jaw-line and the round-shouldered frame of a girl.

    But why would Talmadge have a female follower?

    What possible use could a votaress be?

    He could not pass on his knowledge or his craft to her - everyone knew a woman¡¯s blood could not wield the magik.

    Perhaps she cooked and washed his potion bottles?

    But then, why dress her in male clothing?

    The others were right - sometimes there was just no knowing what those imbued with the power of magik were up to - their ways were just too erratic and unpredictable.All content ? N/.?vel/Dr/ama.Org.

    Or perhaps the ¡°star-taint¡± had finally caught up with the old man¡¯s intellect?

    Steadman¡¯s experienced eyes analysed his opponent with a cursory nce as he approached to greet his guest.

    ¡°Wee Talmadge,¡± he said.

    ¡°Patrex Steadman,¡± said Talmadge, nodding in his direction. ¡°It has been several years, and they all seem to have been kind to you.¡±

    ¡°But you¡¯ve lost weight,¡± Steadman replied.

    ¡°Oh! A recent enforced diet - I will soon regain my true size - if the kitchens here are as good as I remember them.¡±

    ¡°Please ept some water,¡± Steadman insisted as he passed a cup to each of them. ¡°You must be thirsty after your journey.¡±

    The three guests took the cups but did not tilt their heads back to drink. Steadman could still not get a direct look at their faces.

    Perhaps the old man had remembered his ploy and had warned them?

    ¡°I¡¯m d you¡¯re here,¡± Steadman continued. ¡°There will be time to eatter, but what we need to discuss with you, Talmadge, is a very ¡­ sensitive matter¡­ we cannot allow it to be public knowledge.¡±

    He directed a nce toward the two young followers.

    Talmadge bristled and stared directly back.

    ¡°Anything you wish to say to me can certainly be said in front of these two,¡± he replied.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯d rather...¡±

    ¡°Speak Patrex,¡± Talmadge demanded. ¡°Let us know what is on your mind.¡±

    ¡°As direct as ever, I see! Very well. As you may know, we have had problems recently with witch attacks. We sent for the Harmonist, and he was confident that a Cleansing Spell would deal with them. However, something seemed to go wrong - the ceremony was attacked and regrettably, the Harmonist, along with many others, were killed.¡±

    The acolyte on the left shuffled uneasily; their cup ttered to the ground. Their fingers seemed far too clumsy to be those of a pot washer.

    ¡°Yes, I have heard this news,¡± said Talmadge.

    ¡°This ¡­ unfortunate set of circumstances has put us in quite some trouble. The Harmonist was one of the few magikants with the ability to perform such a powerful ceremony and defend us against the witches - without him, we are left almost defenceless against these abominable attacks. We need someone of great power and wisdom, someone with experience in such powerful spells. So, of course, I thought of you, my old friend - you were always amongst the strongest of your generation, and with your background, you have all the experience necessary to perform such a spell.¡±

    ¡°Forgive me Patrex,¡± Talmadge replied, ¡°my memory is not perhaps what it once was - but I do not ever recall us being friends. I only seem to recall being expelled from this ce - and from the Church forever - by you, and this¡­ collection.¡± He nodded toward the rest of the Pleiad.

    Steadman shuffled on the rug.

    It seemed his guest still felt the old wounds and bore a grudge - but who could me him?

    ¡°I assumed that our messengers had informed you of our sincere pardon and amnesty - and also of our dire situation, and that¡¯s what brought you here?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Talmadge replied. ¡°I have encountered no messengers. My journey here has been ¡­ somewhat less direct.¡±

    ¡°Well anyway,¡± Steadman continued, ¡°you see our situation - not just the situation of the Church, but, it seems, of all humanity - for these creatures appear determined to destroy us all. You are our only hope, the only one who can save us. We ask you please, for all our sakes, to help us.¡±

    The old man red out around the room. Clearly, he wasn¡¯t going to make this easy.

    ¡°I know we did not part on the best of terms, Talmadge, but you know I personally never med you for what happened; and I hope you will not let our past blind us to what must be done now - for the sake of all humanity.¡±

    Talmadge¡¯s frame stiffened; he drew himself up to his full height.

    Rowe gulped at his wine; Odal¡¯s chair legs scratched on the floor.

    There must be some way of getting through to him - some way to make the stubborn old goat understand the severity of the situation.

    ¡°I remember of course, that you have vowed only ever to use your skills to heal,¡± Steadman tried again, ¡°but under the circumstances, we had hoped¡­¡±

    ¡°And really, this is in itself a form of healing,¡± ventured Lanqvist, ¡°because you would be healing our entiremunity by cutting out this terrible infection; saving not just an individual patient, but our entire Church and way of life - restoring a bnce of health to the whole world.¡±

    ¡°Witches have never harmed me,¡± Talmadge replied. ¡°It seems that the bnce, as you put it, has only been upset by human intervention and foolishness, not by them. Was it not the axes of men that felled the trees in the great forests?¡±

    ¡°This is clearly a discussion for another time,¡± Steadman intervened, ¡°time that we simply do not have - we must act, and do so quickly, if we are to survive. You were always the strongest, most powerful magikant of your generation - that is why you were the Harmonist - you are now our only real hope, you must help us, or we shall soon be over-run.¡±

    The acolyte on the right twitched out a nce towards the old man. Some of the water from his cup spilled over onto the floor. They certainly seemed a fumbling and cumbersome pair to choose as followers.

    ¡°Enough of this snivelling and grovelling,¡± Caldor erupted. ¡°Why waste your time mixing potion bottles and ointments for old women¡¯s haemorrhoids when you could do something of use to the entire world?¡±

    ¡°Please,¡± Steadman continued, ¡°at least stay and rest here for a few days while you consider our request - you look as if a hearty meal and good night¡¯s rest would do you good - and a storm is pulling in tonight.¡±

    ¡°Very well,¡± Talmadge replied. ¡°I will consider your words - but know this - if I am to help you in any way, I will require the use of the entire Library - I will need to research the problem and assess the situation more fully.¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Steadman said. ¡°I had anticipated as much - I remembered your ways of old - your keen fondness for books and scrolls - you were always a great one for study and learning. Brother Simeon should be bringing the Librarian to us as we speak - this sounds like her now.¡±

    The light footsteps of a small, grey-haired woman tapped into the room. Her silver key-pendant caught the fire-light and glinted softly around her neck as she approached. She had always seemed shy and reticent in his presence - although she was alert and thorough and clearly intelligent.

    Her cheeks flushed as she nced about the room and realised that she was now the sole focus of attention.

    ¡°This is our guest - Talmadge,¡± said Steadman. ¡°He is here to help us with our witch problem.¡±

    The Librarian turned to face the magikant.

    ¡°Then, of course, you will want ess to the Apotropaic Section,¡± she said.

    ¡°Perhaps,¡± Talmadge replied. ¡°But my request was to use<i> all</i> of the Library - including ess to the section which deals with the Lore of Presage.¡±

    The Librarian¡¯s faced blushed a slightly deeper red.

    ¡°Unfortunately sir, Library rules forbid this - only elected members of the Pleiad can have ess to this section.¡±

    ¡°Our current situation is far too critical to stand on such ceremonies,¡± Steadman interrupted. ¡°I grant our guest ess under the power of my authority.¡±

    ¡°But Patrex,¡± the Librarian continued, ¡°you are aware that some of the manuscripts in that section are our most ancient and often the most difficult to understand fully - only the most spiritually qualified would be capable of interpreting them properly - without the danger ofpsing into heresy.¡±

    ¡°The pages in that section do touch on <i>other</i> matters,¡± Lanqvist said, ¡°matters that I have been forced to bring to your attention.¡±

    ¡°No! No!¡± Caldor interjected. ¡°This is strictly forbidden! Only members of the Pleiad can read the archaic documents - only we are strong enough to interpret them without the taint of corruption - only our faith is strong enough to shield us.¡±

    ¡°Really, Brother Caldor, would you have the whole Church fall about our ears rather than grant this ess?¡± asked Steadman. ¡°Can you not see that soon there will be no Church left at all? No men left to preach to, if we do not stop the witches from annihting us all. And do I need to remind you once again of the terrible discovery of Brother Lanqvist¡¯s work?¡±

    ¡°But if these primitive stories were to fall into the wrong hands,¡± Caldor persisted, ¡°they could cause a mass panic amongst our beloved flock - the dread of hysteria would engulf and kill them just as surely as any witch attack.¡±

    ¡°We have no choice,¡± said Steadman. ¡°We must fight with all the weapons the Surrounder has granted to us. I give full ess to you Talmadge, on the strict condition that you do not remove any of the books from the Library, or allow anyone else to read them.¡±

    He red out around the room; the others sat in silence - clearly, none dared challenge his authority.

    ¡°There is a room for you here in the Cathedral building, Talmadge,¡± he continued. ¡°I am sure you will befortable and able to study. We can show your two¡­votaries¡­ to some suitable quarters in the pilgrimage hostel.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Talmadge replied. ¡°That will not be eptable - I must have them both with me - here within the Vallum boundary.¡±

    ¡°What!¡± Odal said. ¡°But they are not priests - they have no right to be housed within our sacred enclosure!¡±

    ¡°You over-reach yourself, Talmadge!¡± Caldor erupted. ¡°You have indeed grown self-important in your dotage!¡±

    ¡°My self-worth has noting to do with it!¡± Talmadge shed, ¡°we will<i> all</i> stay within the sanctuary of the Vallum, or I will not be able to help you - those are my terms, gentlemen.¡±

    Steadman gazed intently at his guest.

    It was difficult to piece together the old man¡¯s strategy.

    Clearly, he intended to house his acolytes here.

    A girl would never be allowed to sleep within the Cathedral walls - even the Patrex could not overturn that Law - and that would ount for her disguise.

    But why seek the shelter of the Vallum?

    What possible use could this magikal shield be to him?

    Surely his own spells would be strong enough to offer protection outside its sheltering dome?

    And its ancient properties would prevent him from being able to wield the magik from within its boundaries.

    Did even one as powerful as he fear the witch attacks?

    But the situation did not allow the luxury of choice - he would have to ede to this request - he must y out the game to see where it led.

    ¡°Well, as luck would have it,¡± Steadman said, ¡°your old chambers in the west quadrant have recently be avable - perhaps it is all part of the Surrounder¡¯s good providence. I trust they will be sufficient for your needs?¡±

    ¡°Perhaps the Surrounder¡¯s providence, as you put it, has indeed led us all down this same path,¡± Talmadge replied. ¡°Although I do not believe that any of us will enjoy what lies at the end of this particr journey.¡±

 61. A Curious Tale

    Kira¡¯s echoing footsteps bounced down the Cathedral corridors; the smooth solidity of the stone floor vibrated up through her feet with a familiar sense of purpose; the evocative smell of the Church incense greeted her as an old friend; even the dancing light from the oilmps which lined the walls induced a sad and urgent nostalgia.

    She kept her face down, tucked beneath the shade of her cowl, and followed the knowledgeable strides of Brother Simeon towards Aldwyn¡¯s chambers.

    It would be strange to sleep without the stars whirling above her, or the damp scents of the forest to lull her towards slumber.

    But the nights had grown so cold now.

    What a luxury it would be!

    Warm bedding and perhaps even a firece to sleep by.

    And food!

    Her hollow stomach rumbled in expectant appreciation.

    Brother Simeon unlocked an ornate door and motioned for them to enter.

    Kira shuffled behind Aldwyn and Ellis into a room that was much grander than she had expected - far more luxurious than her empty white chamber in the convent - it had its own table and chairs; the walls were adorned with several richly appointed tapestries; two more doors seemed to lead off into other separate spaces.

    A recessed hearth sat waiting to chase off the deep autumn chill.

    There was even a window!

    The nuns had always described such things as openings onto the gateways of Sin, and an expensive and unnecessary luxury.

    Even now, with all of the world that she had already seen, it still seemed a peculiar idea - to be safely ensconced inside the dryness of a room, and yet still be able to see the burnished colours of a wet autumn evening,id out below the vastness of the darkening skies.

    Her inquisitive questions burned and wriggled - but she bit her tongue and resisted the urge to say anything, just as Aldwyn had instructed.

    Maintaining the intense, suffocating silence had not been an easy experience - especially when the Patrex had mentioned the witch attack. True, she had identally dropped her cup of water at the memory of the unnerving horror - but she had still managed to keep her mouth tightly shut.

    She tried to force her eyes down low, but they stubbornly gazed about and absorbed the exuberant curiosities of the room.

    Another priest entered and deposited a tray of food on the table.

    Her nose inhaled the enticing disy with keen interest.

    Brother Simeon finished lighting the fire and left the room.

    Ellis opened his mouth. ¡°But why¡­¡±

    Aldwyn held out a warning finger; he crossed the room and tested that the door was firmly shut.

    The urgent, stabbing questions bubbled up from deep within Kira and tried to force their way out of her mouth.

    The continued frustration of silence gnawed and corrupted her insides. But even in her own vexation, she could sense that Ellis was more desperate and impatient to speak. Even back in the Patrex¡¯s study, with all those other men watching on, he had twitched and strained - and after all, he had known Aldwyn for much longer than her.

    Aldwyn returned and warmed himself by the flourishing fire. He lowered his finger.

    ¡°But why did they call you Talmadge?¡± Ellis demanded.

    Aldwyn winced and raised his finger once more; he motioned at Ellis to keep his voice down.

    ¡°I am an old man,¡± said Aldwyn in a muted tone, ¡°and I have been known by many names in my past lives. A man¡¯s name should change, from time to time, to suit his situation in life - the man we call ¡®king¡¯ today, was once called ¡®prince¡¯ when he was born, and then ¡®heir¡¯ when he grew older - taking the various names that the phases and stages of his life present to him.¡±

    ¡°Oh! And now I suppose you¡¯re going to tell us you¡¯re royalty too!?¡± said Ellis.

    The dense wool of Kira¡¯s cowl scratched and itched at her scalp.

    Surely Aldwyn couldn¡¯t expect her to wear it <i>all</i> the time?

    She pulled the restrictive hood off and shook her relieved hair out.

    The food and water waited patiently on the table; it looked up invitingly at her.

    It seemed that Ellis and Aldwyn¡¯s conversation would be a long one - best make herselffortable.

    She pulled out a chair and sat in the cosy nook of the room; her mouth munched and delighted in a deliciously savoury cold meat pie.

    ¡°No,¡± Aldwyn continued, ¡°I am no king - but I have changed my name to suit my circumstances. As you may have gathered from that conversation, long ago I worked for the Church - in fact, I was the Grand Harmonist.¡±

    Kira coughed; the appetizing crust of pie was surprised by these words and refused to go down properly.

    Had she really been in the presence of such a high-ranking official all this time?

    A man of such power and importance?

    Even if his grubby robes did not reflect this?

    And she had even met the Patrex too - the head of the whole Church - and been in his very room!

    How jealous Amber would be when she got back to the convent and told her all about it!

    And just what would the nuns make of it?

    ¡°I thought that¡¯s what they said!¡± Ellis eximed. ¡°But how? Why you? I mean, everyone knows that the Harmonist must be a poly-born - but you only wield the Magik of Healing.¡±

    Aldwyn held up his finger again.

    Kira stopped chewing and sat motionless.

    The warming crackle of the fire spat out across the hushed room.

    From the corridor, a series of faint footsteps reverberated into the distance.

    ¡°And you left all this luxury to go and live in a backwater hamlet like Thinisby?¡± Ellis continued.

    ¡°Backwaters are often the best and most interesting ces to be,¡± Aldwyn replied. ¡°And if I hadn¡¯t been there, I would never have met you - or Kira either, for that matter.¡±

    ¡°You still haven¡¯t answered,¡± Ellis persisted. ¡°Why did you leave?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a long and painful story¡­¡± Aldwyn said.

    Ellis leant forward. ¡°Well, I need to hear it,¡± he said.

    Kira reached for some of the aromatic freshly baked bread and helped herself to butter and cheese. Despite the fierce urgings of her stomach, she found that her ears also burned to hear the tale.

    ¡°Very well,¡± Aldwyn began, ¡°some years ago, while I was the Harmonist, it seems that the old Patrex was somehow seduced and fell in love with a witch.¡±

    ¡°A witch?¡± said Ellis. ¡°But I¡¯ve heard that they are monstrous, ugly creatures. How could anyone love something like that?¡±

    Kira shuddered; her mind bruised back to the horror of the grotesque flying silhouettes and the deadly havoc they caused.

    ¡°Witches can take on a number of forms,¡± Aldwyn said. ¡°It seems they can, on asion, even take the guise of a human - and it is also possible that she somehow used her magik to deceive him. Witches, as you know, are bound to the spirits of the trees - the old Patrex was fond of walking through the woods - he used to say it helped him rx and think - so that must have been where they met.¡±

    Kira¡¯s memories jabbed and convulsed; she had not been taught about the connection to the trees - but it was true that when she first noticed the insidious fiends she had believed the forest hade to life.

    ¡°As you know,¡± Aldwyn continued, ¡°Love binds together the hearts of those involved - but when a human falls in love with a witch, it can be a very messy business - for not just their hearts and minds be entwined, but their very souls be bound together in a deep and unnatural union. After some time, the witch, the seductress, became gravely ill - but because of her deep connection to the Patrex - these ¡®soul-bonds¡¯ which joined them together - just as the witch withered under her affliction, so too did the Patrex.¡±

    The salted seasoning of the pie dried at the back of Kira¡¯s throat. She reached for the water, but did not let her eyes wander from Aldwyn.

    ¡°Naturally,¡± he said, ¡°the rest of the Pleiad summoned me to heal him. But I immediately sensed that this was no ordinary illness. The old Patrex and I had been the closest of friends, so there was little he could keep hidden from me, and I soon learned the truth of what had befallen him. When the witch died, I was unable to save the Patrex - but there are worse things in this world than death - and if I had allowed his body to remain intact, the soul of the witch would have inhabited his corpse and used his corrupted flesh to roam this world forever. Therefore, I was left with no choice but to wield my magik to ensure that my old friend did not rise again and spend the rest of eternity as the ghoulish ve of the creature who had so besotted him.¡±

    Aldwyn shuffled in front of the fire.

    Perhaps it was too hot for him?

    Perhaps he was tired?

    But he seemed distracted.

    ¡°It was a necessary task,¡± he continued, ¡°an act of kindness in many ways - but nheless a grisly and unpleasant affair - I had never thought to use the magik to destroy my good friend in such a way, and I vowed after that, never again to wield any magik but that which Heals. The twisted ties of necromancy are a foul and debased form of magik -but a very powerful one, and the power of the spell itself, threatened to drag me down into the tainted pit of despair and horror.¡±

    Kira¡¯s fingers stopped as they gripped at the pot of honey.

    Poor Aldwyn!

    How terrible it must have been for him.

    What if it had been Amber, or even Ellis, in that situation?

    What would she have done?

    How would she have reacted?

    Despite the glowing warmth of the fire, a cold, queasy shiver rippled down the length of her body.

    Aldwyn cleared his throat and continued.

    ¡°Because I had been forced to obliterate my friend¡¯s body in this way, the rest of the fools in the Pleiad believed that I had killed him - that I was responsible for murdering the old Patrex. His death brought the current incumbent, Steadman, into power. He was not universally liked - he had been a soldier in his youth, which was an unusual route into the Church - and those who had been priests all their lives - those who had studied, and trained, and plotted, and waited for their chance to seize the power of leadership - were sorely disappointed by this. They could not oust Steadman from his position, so they vented their bile on me, and openly used me of ying the old leader in order to help Steadman usurp his ce.¡±Copyright N?v/el/Dra/ma.Org.

    Kira bit into the soft bread and honey; the sweet vour tried to drag her back to the convent - but her ears and interest pinned her in the room with Aldwyn.

    ¡°Steadman himself was too new, with not enough allies to protect me - perhaps he did not want to begin his leadership by ruffling too many feathers - or perhaps he felt that by helping me, he would give credence to the lies of the others - so he chose to ignore my unjust treatment and acted on these false usations. I was expelled from the Church - chased out and left homeless, without a single coin in my purse to call my own - after all my years of loyal service and sacrifice; my reputation in tatters. It was a bitter and chastening experience, but I resolved then to use my gift of magik to put some good back into this world - to heal the sick and wounded, and bringfort where I could. I changed my name - and was given others - and, after some time spent wandering, I set up in a ¡®backwater¡¯ as you call it, to live out my years in a quiet life of service.¡±

    ¡°But if you are a poly-born,¡± Ellis blurted out, ¡°you could have saved us from the wolf attack - or the vers even!¡±

    Aldwyn shook his head.

    ¡°You, more than most, should know that, even if I had been prepared to break my vow, there was simply not enough time to focus and summon a spell - the wolves would have torn me apart before I could have reached the right level of concentration.¡±

    A set of footsteps echoed in the distant corridor; an oppressed stillness filled the room. Aldwyn shifted his weight and spoke again.

    ¡°That is why I asked you both to be silent and cover your faces when we arrived - for this is not the pure and simple ce of faith it may appear, but rather, a scheming bed of ambitious vipers, more treacherous and deadly than any royal court. Some here do have a true spiritual calling - but others simply lust for power - and sadly, all too often, they are the ones who gain promotion and then use their new authority for their own aggrandisement. We cannot trust the people here - those with the deepest faith also harbour the deepest desires - we must be cautious and wary of them all.¡±

    Kira shuddered.

    It seemed so unfair that Aldwyn was treated like that - but her own experience with the nuns had taught her that he was right - those who professed the most religious zeal could also be the cruellest and leastpassionate.

    ¡°Well,¡± Aldwyn concluded, ¡°such was my tale. But the world turns itself in strange circles - just as the hot season follows the cold - and now, as you have just seen, some of the same vultures who chased me out, need my help.¡±

    ¡°But, you¡¯re not going to do it though?¡± said Kira. ¡°Not after how they treated you?¡±

    ¡°If I do decide to act, it will be for the benefit of all humans - and not just these self-centred snakes. But I¡¯ve done discussing them. You two eat and rest here, you should be safe enough - but keep this door locked and speak to no-one. I must go to the Library - I have much work to do, and my mind is too restless for the answers - I know it would be no use trying to sleep this evening, as tired as the journey here has made me.¡±

    ¡°Well! What an awful story!¡± Kira said, as the old man closed the door behind him. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen him angry before - not like he was back with the Patrex - and no wonder!¡±

    Ellis sat opposite her and picked at the loaf of bread.

    ¡°And then having to destroy his own friend like that,¡± she added. ¡°How awful it must have been for him. I could never do anything like that.¡±

    Ellis pulled off a chunk of bread and tore it into smaller pieces.

    ¡°And then it was so strange when they called him ¡®Talmadge¡¯,¡± Kira continued. ¡°I don¡¯t think I could ever get used to calling him that.¡±

    ¡°But he lied to me about his magik,¡± Ellis said. ¡°Or at least, he hasn¡¯t been truthful with me all these years.¡±

    ¡°But he was just upset and didn¡¯t want to talk about his past life in this ce - and no wonder after what they did to him! Surely you can understand why he didn¡¯t want to go into all about being a poly-born, or what-ever it is?¡±

    Ellis crumbled the bread into a pile on his te.

    ¡°I mean, he¡¯s taken care of you,¡± Kira said, ¡°and taught you well, so does it even really matter?¡±

    ¡°Yes it does matter!¡± Ellis said. ¡°Which hue of magik you wield is the single most important thing about any magikant - and if he hasn¡¯t been honest about <i>that</i> - then who knows what other secrets he¡¯s been keeping from us.¡±

 62. The Strategy of Risk

    Father Steadman rubbed his fingers into the polished wood of his chair; it creaked uneasily beneath him, as the other members of the Pleiad shuffled into his chambers and filled the room with their bustling chatter.

    Waiting was always the most difficult time; thinking, attempting to predict the moves of an opponent, or the random twists of Fate; a nervous calm before the storm.

    Trying tomand without offending; to counter objections subtly, instead of giving direct orders.

    Perhaps he had been wrong all those years ago when he answered the call of the Surrounder and entered a life in the Church?

    But even in the militia, the most ingenious of battle-strategies often came unstuck against the fury of an enemy.

    Talmadge - or did he call himself by another name these days? - must have something important to tell them - why else would he have asked them to assemble?

    But what?

    And how would Caldor find a way to disagree with it?

    A formal hush pushed out to the edges of the room as the old magikant moved to the centre of the study and spoke.

    ¡°As you know, we have now entered a most perilous time - the world, as we know it, is in grave danger - and if we do nothing, it is certain to end - for I must confirm the findings of Brother Lanqvist.¡±

    An anxious, buzzing ripple spread through the members of the Pleiad; the grey-hired Librarian, tucked away behind Rowe, shuffled and nched.

    Several sets of eyes turned to Lanqvist; he sat passively supporting his cane between his knees.

    But those assembled already knew this terrible news - surely the old man had some new information to impart?

    ¡°Since my arrival here,¡± Talmadge continued, ¡°I have worked tirelessly and poured over all the known scrolls in search of hope - some kind of solution - to avert this disaster. I can¡¯t say I¡¯m pleased with what I have discovered, but at least a clear n of action has opened up before us, and that is what I must discuss with you now.¡±

    Steadman¡¯s thumbs gripped deeper into the smooth arms of his chair - finally, some sort of strategy to work with; a chance to do something, instead of sitting and waiting.

    ¡°Even with all my powers,¡± Talmadge said, ¡°I fear I could not summon a spell deep enough to protect the entire world from the jeopardy it now faces. I would need to amplify my abilities greatly in order to perform such a profound casting.¡±

    ¡°I thought that was the purpose of the Sacred Grove?¡± said Steadman. ¡°But from the pale gravity of your manner, I assume it will not be quite as simple as that?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Talmadge replied, ¡°it will not. Unfortunately, despite all my research, the only way I can find to enhance my powers sufficiently, would be through the use of the Quillon of Hekubate.¡±

    An unsettled murmur vibrated through the room.

    Steadman¡¯s brows furrowed deeper.

    The Quillon of Hekubate?

    The jewelled dagger from the demon realms?

    This was the stuff of drunken tavern tales!

    A fable to scare naughty children!

    And yet Talmadge seemed serious enough - his face and demeanour did not betray any sign of humour - he even raised his voice to hold back the swelling tide of dis-belief and assert his sincerity.

    What was the old man up to now?

    ¡°And even then, it will not be a simple operation - I would need to wield the Quillon in the Sacred Grove during the shadow eclipse of the Long Moon in order to achieve its full power.¡±

    ¡°But even if this mythical relic really exists,¡± said Fencliffe, ¡°that doesn¡¯t give us much time.¡±

    ¡°A mere fifteen days, to be precise,¡± said Lanqvist.

    ¡°It will not be easy,¡± Talmadge continued, ¡°I can not pretend otherwise - and I can offer no guarantee of its sess - but it seems to be our only hope; I can see no other means of ending the shadow of peril, which now covers us all.¡±

    ¡°But this is pure folly!¡± Caldor interjected. ¡°The degenerate ravings of a madman! We could never hope to achieve such a thing!¡±

    ¡°And wasn¡¯t the Quillon supposed to be sacred to the Reevers?¡± Odal added. ¡°They would never allow us to use it or take it from them.¡±

    ¡°Besides,¡± said Lanqvist, ¡°entering their territory would vite the ancient truce between us - it would risk another war.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I remember my histories,¡± said Fencliffe. ¡°Much blood was spilt -many brave priests and warriors met their deaths to save us from the Reevers¡¯ rapacious thirst for our blood. Such sacrifice should be honoured and not forgotten - we should gather our wisdom from their doom.¡±

    ¡°Yes, we must learn from our history,¡± Odal agreed. ¡°We cannot risk such bloodshed for the sake of a relic - and a relic which we cannot even be certain will even do what we hope!¡±

    ¡°We could try asking for it?¡± Byram said. ¡°If we exined the seriousness of the situation - the ferocity of the witch attacks - and soon the witches may threaten the Reever¡¯s territory too.¡±

    Rowe sipped his wine.

    ¡°Even your famous powers of diplomacy could not achieve such a prize,¡± he said.

    ¡°But they were once humans like us,¡± Byram continued. ¡°Perhaps if we exin our need - the danger to the whole world - the Auguries of Father Martin - they might agree to help us.¡±

    ¡°Silence!¡± Caldor erupted. ¡°What is this heresy? What have we be that we openly defy the purity of the Great Surrounder - here - in this most sacred of ces? The Auguries! What rubbish! And now you dare to talk of negotiating with these revenants, these foul outcasts, who sought a short-cut to the forbidden, divine knowledge that no human should ever obtain?¡±

    He pummelled a fist into his hand.

    ¡°Never!¡± he shouted. ¡°We should have no dealings with these foul demons, these hollow, worthless corpses!¡±

    ¡°They would never agree to help us,¡± said Odal. ¡°The fiendish beast which dwells within them would never allow it to ur,¡±Copyright N?v/el/Dra/ma.Org.

    ¡°They do not feelpassion or brotherhood any more,¡± Fencliffe added. ¡°They are no longer human - and what do their demon masters care for our world?¡±

    ¡°For all we know, the Reevers are in league with the witches, and are plotting to kill us all at this very moment!¡± Odal cried.

    ¡°And the Quillon is the artefact which creates their link to the demon soul which inhabits them - they know it could also be used to destroy that connection - no, they would never agree to such a request,¡± Lanqvist concluded.

    ¡°And if we did ask,¡± said Rowe, ¡°the Reevers would be alerted to our need for the Quillon - they would certainly double or triple their guard on it - which would make an already exceptionally difficult task, absolutely impossible.¡±

    Steadman¡¯s chair became increasingly ufortable as he absorbed the discussion around him.

    Finally, Talmadge was holding out a chance - a slim one perhaps - but the only opportunity for real action since the Harmonist had offered to help.

    And yet, the whole thing seemed so frustratingly distant, so impossible - it was almost worse than having no hope at all.

    The other members of the Pleiad were clearly losing patience; he had felt such tense divisions before - on the eve of a decisive battle - their fear was almost palpable - and understandable at that - but they would tear the Church apart if this continued - just when they needed to be at their strongest and most united.

    His fingers pressed deeper into the distressed wood, but the sweat of his palms could not squeeze out the answers he needed - there seemed to be no way forward.

    ¡°And if not by diplomacy,¡± he said, ¡°an all-out attack is also out of the question - it would be far too costly. We have no real idea of the Reevers¡¯ exact numbers; and if the old stories are to be believed, they moved with such rapidity that even our most skilful warriors struggled tobat them.¡±

    His impatient legs shifted their weight on the chair.

    He was meant to be helping.

    He was meant to be taking action and uniting.

    But his thoughts only encountered more obstacles.

    ¡°And on top of that,¡± he said, ¡°we only have fifteen days to get there and back - there would simply not be enough time to assemble an army - our soldiers are scattered across ournds defending the towns and viges against the witches.¡±

    ¡°And if all our soldiers journey into Reever territory to fight,¡± Odal added, ¡°who will remain here to protect us from the witches? We would be leftpletely defenceless.¡±

    ¡°We would simply be surrendering ourselves to a fate even worse than that predicted in the Auguries,¡± said Fencliffe.

    ¡°This is nothing but a fool¡¯s errand!¡± Caldor shouted at Talmadge. ¡°Your so-called ¡®n¡¯ is a nonsense of impossible daydreams. Have you dragged us all here to force us to listen to such gibberish? I, for one, will hear no more.¡±

    His chair scraped loudly on the floor as he stood and marched across the room towards the door.

    ¡°Brother Caldor!¡± said Steadman. ¡°Must I remind you who is Patrex here?¡±

    Father Steadman rose to his feet. His fingers twitched for theforting memory of his sword, as he bristled to his full height.

    Caldor¡¯s dark robes stopped and wilted under the intense re of the muted assembly.

    ¡°I decide when a meeting of the Pleiad has concluded, and when we may all be dismissed. Please return to your seat.¡±

    Caldor¡¯s dark eyes shed back; his face glowered a deep crimson beneath the jet of his hair.

    He returned to his position and the heavy silence of the room pushed him back down into his chair.

    An invigorating adrenaline flowed through Steadman¡¯s grateful limbs and washed away his years and doubts.

    It was surprisingly satisfying to put Caldor in his ce - to assert his authority clearly and directly once again.

    No doubt Caldor would try to make him pay for itter- although it was difficult to envisage how the Second-in-Command could make himself any more disagreeable than he already was.

    ¡°Must I remind you all of the work of Brother Lanqvist?¡± Steadman continued. ¡°Of the Auguries of Father Martin? If Talmadge tells us that we require the Quillon, then we have no choice but to try - for without it we will all certainly perish.¡±

    The cushioned seat epted his weight morefortably as he rxed back down into it.

    Talmadge had stood quietly, almost passively, in the centre of the room, throughout this episode. He had not seemed surprised by these developments and such a show of emotions.

    Did he know something else?

    It certainly had not been like him to arrive without a sound and feasible n - but perhaps old age had softened him?

    ¡°It would appear from our discussions,¡± said the old magikant, ¡°that we are left with only one option - we must steal the Quillon from under the Reevers¡¯ noses - use it, and then return it before they even realise it has gone. And we must do all this before the first edges of the shadow eclipse touch the Sacred Grove in fifteen nights¡¯ time.¡±

    And there it was - the Talmadge of old - calm and certain of his words.

    No doubt the scheming old magikant had known all along that the Pleiad would reach this conclusion.

    He had even nned this oue and deliberately led us along its path.

    Steadman tapped his casual palms lightly on the arms of his chair.

    ¡°What! Go there without an army!¡± Caldor scoffed. ¡°Who would be so stupid? So reckless? Who would be so careless of their own life?¡±

    Talmadge stood perfectly still in the centre of the room.

    ¡°I will go,¡± he said in a cid tone. ¡°I am the only one who has studied the Quillon - and, if the legends are correct, I may be the only one who can resist and harness its dark powers.¡±

    The old man was brave - if a little foolhardy - there was no doubting that.

    And he clearly believed in his own n - even to the extent of risking his own life for it.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you getting a little old-in-the-tooth for that type of excitement?¡± Steadman asked.

    ¡°My bones may be old,¡± Talmadge replied, ¡°but I still wield the magik more powerfully than most. I will be needed. Besides, I came through worse than the Reevers just to get here.¡±

    ¡°Worse than a ferocious army of demon-inspired warriors?¡± said Steadman. ¡°I am curious to hear about it.¡±

    The old man steadied himself.

    ¡°I was forced to confront a cave of swarming haemagiles.¡±

    ¡°Haemagiles?¡± said Steadman. ¡°Nasty! Very nasty! I hear they are especially drawn to the blood of those who wield the magik - they must have been teeming all over one as powerful as you.¡±

    Talmadge paused and cleared his throat.

    ¡°I cannot pretend it was an easy experience - you saw my dishevelled appearance when I first arrived - and yet I survived, and I am ready for further ¡®excitement¡¯ - as you call it - for the scrolls have confirmed my suspicions, that the time of the Auguries has descended upon our world, and if there is anything I can do to prevent such a disaster, I will.¡±

    ¡°Then I will go with you,¡± said Steadman. The ground seemed buoyant and certain beneath him as he stood again.

    ¡°My military background might help us tactically - and I am still young enough to use a sword in a tight spot.¡±

    ¡°No Patrex, you must not leave!¡± said Byram. ¡°We need your calming guidance here amongst us at this most unsettled and precarious of times.¡±

    ¡°And if you were lost,¡± said Rowe, ¡°the morale of themon people would plummet.¡±

    ¡°Agreed,¡± Lanqvist added. ¡°We need your leadership and stability here, where you can be most effective.¡±

    There was much wisdom in their words - and also a degree of fear.

    But was it the witches, or Brother Caldor, that they were truly afraid of?

    The blood coursed through his body and urged him to go.

    His fingers itched for the warm hilt of a sword.

    But he was no longer a free man - he had duties and responsibilities - others relied on him - his flock, his priests - he felt the pull of their ties and sat back down.

    ¡°Then let me at least offer some of my most trusted and worthy bodyguards. They are seasoned men, skilled in their jobs - they will not fail if called upon.¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± said Talmadge, ¡°I would prefer not to go alone - a small party would be best.¡±

    ¡°But tell me,¡± said Steadman, ¡°how do you intend to locate the Quillon? I remember from my histories that the Reevers¡¯ home is a veritable warren of tunnels - inside an old volcano, I believe. You can¡¯t just knock on their front door and ask for directions.¡±

    Talmadge shifted his weight and turned to face him fully.

    ¡°The volcano itself will be easy enough to find, because it is surrounded by t, filthy swampnds, so it will be clearly visible. As you know, the Reevers themselves will not emerge during the day because it would be fatal to the demons who are bound to their souls, so I will take care to travel during daylight. At night, if I remain still and focus properly, I should be able to hide our group beneath a protective spell - like a smaller, temporary version of the Vallum which surrounds this Cathedral - so they will not be able to detect our presence.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but once you get near their nest?¡± Steadman persisted. ¡°How will you get in and locate the chamber which houses the Quillon?¡±

    ¡°Hmmm¡­¡± Talmadge paused. ¡°I¡¯m not sure about that just yet - I had hoped it might be possible to sense its power, once I was close enough.¡±

    The Librarian shuffled forward.

    ¡°My gracious Lords, if I may be permitted to speak?¡±

    She had sat quietly until now, but her alert eyes and ears had obviously been taking everything in.

    She would have made a useful Captain and did not normally speak unless she had something sensible to offer.

    Steadman nodded his approval to her.

    ¡°I have studied a little of the Reevers and their habits - and once came across an ancient map in the Library which may be of some service.¡±

    ¡°Any help you can offer would be wee,¡± said Talmadge.

    ¡°I cannot vouch for its uracy,¡± the Librarian added. ¡°It was drawn up centuries ago - during thest war - it seems our ancestors may also have nned such an audacious raid - but as far as we know, they never went through with it.¡±

    ¡°They had more sense!¡± Caldor barked.

    ¡°I seem to recall it shows a possible way into the heart of theirir,¡± the Librarian continued, ¡°where it is said the Quillon of Hekubate is housed - through a honeb of extinct volcanic tunnels - it might be worth a try?¡±

    ¡°Thank you Librarian,¡± said Steadman, ¡°as diligent as ever. Well, unless you have uncovered some other route, Talmadge, it¡¯s all we have to go on - we must trust that our ancestors knew what they were doing.¡±

    Caldor shook his head vigorously.

    ¡°This is folly! It is suicide!¡± he eximed. ¡°You will achieve nothing - but stir up a nest of angry hos who will retaliate and kill us all!¡±

    ¡°Perhaps that may be so,¡± said Steadman, ¡°but at least this way, we will have some say in how we die - we may reach the arms of the Surrounder with some hope of honour and dignity, instead of simply waiting to be crushed like helpless vermin - for if we do nothing, we will surely all perish - the Auguries have foretold it.¡±

    Only the sharp crackle of the fire dared disturb the ponderous silence.

    Rowe sipped at his wine; Lanqvist rolled his cane in time to his own thoughts.

    Talmadge cleared his throat and broke the distressed tension.

    ¡°Well, given that our n relies on taking the Quillon by stealth, I would ask all present not to mention our discussion to anyone outside this room.¡±

    ¡°Gentlemen,¡± said Steadman, ¡°I trust that the vow of secrecy amongst the Pleiad members will not be broken - I hold you all to it - and all others who are trusted enough to be here.¡±

    His sharp eyes scanned each face, searching for their acknowledgement and obedience.

    It seemed that they all agreed toply.

    ¡°Very well then,¡± said Talmadge, ¡°I must return to my chambers to prepare.¡±

 63. Ellis has Concerns

    Thefortable fire in Aldwyn¡¯s chambers threw out its friendly warmth against the descent of evening; it softly caressed Kira¡¯s legs as she sat staring at the patterns created by the deftly shimmering mes.

    Her grateful hands cradled a steaming mug of broth, while the crackling, glowing embers shifted and glided and curled up the ckened chimney.

    The luxury of her situation still impressed itself into her - but she was determined not to let any nagging doubts about self-indulgence prevent her from relishing the cosy surroundings as she sat on the rug, and waited for her bread to toast.

    ¡°I just don¡¯t know any more,¡± said Ellis from his chair at the table behind her, ¡°it all seems so strange. First there¡¯s this business with the Church and the old Patrex, and now he buries himself away in the Library day after day. Who knows what he¡¯s doing in there - he won¡¯t even tell me about the books he¡¯s consulting, let alone what he hopes to discover in them.¡±

    ¡°But that¡¯s hardly fair,¡± said Kira as she turned to face him, ¡°you know he can¡¯t tell us - Patrex Steadman made him promise not to.¡±

    The warm smell of browning bread drifted up and tantalised her eager nose.

    She lifted the toasting fork from the hearth and moved to sit in the candlelight of the table.

    ¡°But those sorts of rules and authority never seemed to bother him before,¡± said Ellis.

    ¡°But in his own cottage, his own rules apply,¡± Kira responded. ¡°Now he¡¯s here in the Cathedral, he must obey the Patrex, just as everyone else has to.¡±

    ¡°But I just can¡¯t feel sure who he really is any more - or whether I trust him as much as I did.¡±

    ¡°But that¡¯s just it,¡± said Kira, ¡°you did trust him and he trusts you. I saw you both working together that morning in his cottage - no-one could fake that or pretend to care about you as much as he obviously does.¡±

    Kira spread her toast with a thickyer of honey; it oozed over the hot surface; the pale, translucent drops reflected the warm candle-glow as they dribbled over the edges of the bread.

    Just how she liked it.

    True, it was anothervish indulgence - but while she was at the Cathedral, she was determined to enjoy her stay - and besides, it would have been rude to her hosts not to ept their full hospitality.

    ¡°And then he helped us both escape from the vers and the wolves,¡± she continued. ¡°And from what you¡¯ve told me, he single-handedly risked his own life to rescue me from the haemagiles. That¡¯s the Aldwyn that I know and trust - even though I¡¯ve only known him a short time.¡±

    Her mouth rejoiced as she crunched into the sweet, sticky toast. The thick honey clung lovingly to her lips and chin.

    ¡°At the moment, he¡¯s a bit pre-upied,¡± she managed to say, ¡°but it seems that everyone else is too - ever since those witches attacked the ceremony.¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m fed up with being stuck in this room,¡± said Ellis. ¡°We¡¯repletely isted from any news of what¡¯s going on out there - I mean, we¡¯re little better than prisoners in here.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s only for a few days,¡± said Kira, as she munched on her toast, ¡°and I¡¯m certainly notining!¡±

    She paused to savour the seeping flow of the honey across her tongue and throat, then washed it slowly down with a mouthful of hot milk.

    ¡°You have to try and think of all the nice things that he¡¯s done for you,¡± she said. ¡°I thought you told me that he took you in when the people in your vige threw stones at you because of the magik symbols on your arms?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I suppose that¡¯s true. Even my parents didn¡¯t seem to know how to cope with a magikant in the family - at times they were just as frightened of me as the rest of them.¡±

    ¡°So wasn¡¯t that kind of him?¡±

    ¡°Eventually, I saw it that way. But in the first few weeks with Aldwyn, I remember always feeling so alone and afraid, and wondering what I¡¯d done wrong, and why my parents didn¡¯t want me any more - it all seemed so confusing and unfair. I think that might be the reason I decided to help you that day in the marketce - when I saw how unhappy you were with the vers - I suppose it reminded me a bit of myself, and how little control we seem to have over our own fate, just because we¡®re young.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I often felt the same - even back at the convent - the nuns seemed to have my life all nned out for me - the rules and regtions, what I would do with my life, and when I would do it - there never seemed to be any room for me to be just me.¡±

    ¡°I know Aldwyn needed me as his votary - to help look after things and run errands - but I sometimes think that perhaps it was just because he was a bit lonely, stuck out there in that cottage, all on his own. I never really thought about it or questioned his motives too much until now. It was just the way of things¡­¡±

    ¡°But Aldwyn has given you a purpose in your life - he¡¯s taught you how to make the most of your gift so that you can be useful to yourself and others. They taught us at the convent, that our greatest happinesses from discovering the Surrounder¡¯s true purpose for us - hasn¡¯t Aldwyn led you to that? If any of the nuns had shown even half the kindness and interest in me that I¡¯ve seen Aldwyn give to you, I¡¯d be grateful to them forever.¡±

    ¡°And then you must have noticed his star-taint is getting worse,¡± said Ellis. ¡°Sometimes he tries to grasp at words he can no longer remember. He almost forgot my name the other day.¡±

    ¡°It might be he¡¯s unwell. But also perhaps he¡¯s just so pre-upied with researching the scrolls and so on at the moment, that he¡¯s be a little absent-mindedtely. His work must be really important - otherwise he wouldn¡¯t have stayed here - not after how they treated himst time.¡±

    ¡°I not sure I would know how to look after him properly if it gets much worse.¡±

    ¡°Well then, it would be even more cruel to give up on him now - just when he really needs the support of a true friend.¡±

    ¡°Friends don¡¯t keep such huge secrets from each other. And then you know he intends to send you back to the convent - whether you want to go there or not - he might even be arranging the whole thing now, as we speak.¡±

    Kira¡¯s anxious stomach sank and tied itself into knots; the warmth of the fire fell from the room and caused her skin to shiver.

    ¡°Yes ¡­ I¡¯ve been wondering about that,¡± she said, ¡°especially since being here, in the Cathedral - it¡¯s brought back so many memories - and not all of them pleasant ones¡­¡±

    Ellis slouched forward, but looked straight at her.

    ¡°It¡¯s just that, you know, I mean, I¡¯ve sort of got used to you being around after all this time. That is, it¡¯s been nice having someone my own age to talk to.¡±

    Kira looked down at her toast.

    The fire crackled in the hearth.

    ¡°And I¡¯ve been thinking, thesest few days,¡± Ellis continued, ¡°I¡¯m not so sure if I want to go back to live with Aldwyn in the cottage again. I mean, perhaps it¡¯s time for me to begin making my own way in the world. I already know enough spells and potions to deal with most of themon ailments and illnesses; and I could buy scrolls to learn what I don¡¯t yet know. I could find a town or vige without a healer, and set up a home of my own there.¡±

    Ellis stared across the table - his eyes seemed to search into her.

    The room offered no shelter.

    There was nowhere to hide.

    ¡°And I was thinking ¡­ it would be nice if you coulde with me - I mean, if that¡¯s what you wanted - I¡¯d like it if you would.¡±

    Kira¡¯s heart dizzied and raced.

    Her nervous stomach tumbled and tied.

    She looked back at him - full in his face - and caught the honest warmth of his eyes - the eyes that had so captivated her on the mountainside; the eyes that she had noticed herself thinking about so often since then; the eyes that now sparkled and glinted in the yful candle-glow, so near to her that she could not be certain that her thoughts were her own anymore.

    They were sincere and truthful.

    He wanted her to go with him - to be with him in the world.

    He was kind; she could trust him - and he seemed to know what he was doing - he certainly knew more about the outer-world than she did.

    How nice it might be to have a home, to experience a life together - without the impossible nuns fussing and ordering her about constantly.

    But would it be right to just abandon Aldwyn like that?

    To go away without him and repay all his kindness in that way?

    After everything he had done for her?

    After everything he had risked?

    Especially now - if he really was ill and needed their help and support?

    But then, wasn¡¯t it <i>her</i> life?

    Hadn¡¯t the Surrounder gifted it to her?

    Shouldn¡¯t she be free to choose for herself, without such a heavy burden of guilt?

    Ellis sat motionless opposite her; the blue of his eyes reached for her response; the quick, shallow thud of her heart, transfixed above the sound of her breath.

    Her eyes were drawn through the window over his shoulder.

    They should have closed the shutters by now - the dark of autumn¡¯s evening had already stolen the colourful glory of the day, and the expectant stars had gathered; they peered down on her; waiting; impatient for her answer.

    Her palms sweated in the tense, oppressive silence.

    Her eyes became uncertain of where to look.

    She tried to gather her scattered thoughts up into one ce, but her mind refused to think or focus properly.

    Why were decisions such difficult, slippery things?

    Perhaps a cloistered life where all her thoughts and choices were already made for her would be better?

    It would certainly be easier.

    In truth, it was all she had ever really known.

    It would be a huge and terrifying step to leave it all behind and invest her everything with his.

    She nced across at the blue of Ellis¡¯s eyes again; her doubts drifted and melted.

    This was her chance.

    Her chance for happiness - for a life.

    A life she had not even dared to allow herself to dream about in the cold loneliness of the convent.

    Her mouth and tongue tingled and dried.

    They knew what she must say.

    They understood the importance of her words, and saw the happy vision of her years unfolding before her.

    She parted her thrilled, anxious lips to reply.All content ? N/.?vel/Dr/ama.Org.

    The sullen echo of heavy, bustling footsteps scuffled in the corridor outside and shattered the shy warmth of the room.

    Kira leant back from the table, and the hopeful, dizzying spell fell away from around her, as the door to the chambers opened abruptly.

 64. A Decision is Made

    Kira shrank back into the timid safety of her chair. Aldwyn strode in through the door; his bustling energy broke the fragile stillness of the room and stole the dreams that Ellis had conjured before her.

    He seemed even more haggard and dishevelled than usual - in their days at the Cathedral, he had seldome back to the chambers to sleep.

    And no doubt, all that constant studying in the Library had not agreed with him.

    Kira shivered inwardly - who would a regime of constant studying ever agree with?

    ¡°Ellis,¡± he said brusquely, without really looking over, ¡°we will be leaving tomorrow. It will be a difficult journey into dangerous territory, but I may need your assistance, so gather your things, and I will bring some extra food from the kitchens to pack.¡±

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s just it Aldwyn,¡± said Ellis, his chair legs scraped awkwardly as he pulled back from the intimate table.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking thesest few days - and I don¡¯t really want to go back with you.¡±

    ¡°Go back with me?¡± said Aldwyn. ¡°We are not returning to the cottage. Weren¡¯t you listening properly? We will be travelling west for several days - to the caves of the Reevers, to be exact. It will be a hazardous journey, but my research indicates that it may be the only chance we have - the only chance that all humans have - if we are to stop the witches and save this world.¡±

    The cosy glow of the fire could not prevent a sinister shiver from rippling down Kira¡¯s spine.

    The witches?

    Those horrifying creatures?

    Was nowhere safe from them?

    Did Aldwyn really think there was a way to stop them?

    ¡°But I¡¯m not your votary any more,¡± Ellis protested, ¡°you can¡¯t just order me to go. It¡¯s time I branched out on my own¡­¡±

    Aldwyn put his bag down and stood perfectly still. His eyes softened and shone with such affection as he focused his attention on Ellis, that even Kira was caught in the beam of their tender care.

    ¡°Ellis, you have known me many years; you should know that you have been more, so much more to me, than a mere votary.¡±

    Kira¡¯s thoughts strayed back to the first morning she had seen them together, in the snug kindness of their cottage - she sensed then that she had intruded into the warm heart of a family - and Aldwyn¡¯s voice forced those impressions to bubble up again.

    ¡°I do not ask this lightly,¡± he continued, ¡°there has never been a time of greater need - and I do not ask your help for my sake, but for the sake of all humans - the very fate of our world now hangs in the bnce - and our choices, here, in this very room, may help to tip things in our favour - to give us all a glimmer of hope.¡±

    Kira turned to face Aldwyn properly as he stepped towards the table and lowered his voice.

    ¡°You must have felt it too Ellis, these past few years, a darkness growing, twisting and conspiring around the edges of the Magik; deep down in your focus; waiting, biding its time - something living and malevolent, an ending distorting its own destiny - so that at times I wonder whether we are wielding the Magik, or it is wielding us. Themon folk are wise to be wary of our powers, for I fear that those born of humans can never fully control this shadow, this knowledge - but its poison will end our world if we do not stop it - so we must fight against it, if we can.¡±

    Kira¡¯s thoughts prickled and brooded as she examined the solemn gravity of Aldwyn¡¯s features.

    There was no doubting the honest sincerity of his eyes or his words.

    But what would this mean?

    If even someone so kind as Aldwyn was afraid of the magik, then what about the evil witches who used it so callously?

    But Ellis had mentioned his concerns about ¡°star-taint¡± - could it just be that?

    The dull crackle of the fire mingled its smoke with the light draught of corridor incense which still clung to Aldwyn¡¯s tunic.

    ¡°I ask this onest thing of you,¡± he said. ¡°Do what you will after this, and go where you must - but I will need your help if we humans are to have any hope, any chance of survival against these witches - and if I fail, I fear this world will fall and will be no more.¡±

    ¡°I¡­I¡¯m still not sure,¡± said Ellis. ¡°I mean, if this journey is so dangerous - if I¡¯m going to risk my life - then I at least have the right to know what is going on. And from the way you¡¯re talking, you seem to think the world will end anyway.¡±

    Aldwyn pulled at his ear and rubbed his hand across his chin.

    ¡°I have promised not to reveal too much,¡± he said, ¡°but suffice to say that the Reevers possess a certain relic. It is a very powerful item, one of great magikal focus, and is our only real hope, our only slender chance of survival.¡±

    ¡°And we just travel there and ask them for it?¡± said Ellis.

    ¡°Not quite - we¡¯ll have to enter their nest of tunnels and steal it from them. But we desperately need it - there is no other way - this relic holds the key to our survival - to the continued existence of our entire world.¡±

    ¡°But if the old scrolls are to be believed,¡± Ellis said, ¡°the Reevers are loathsome revenants who surrendered their souls to the demon realm. If they catch us, they will surely sacrifice us to their demon masters.¡±

    ¡°As I said,¡± Aldwyn replied, ¡°our journey will be hazardous.¡±

    Kira shuddered.

    These ¡®Reevers¡¯, or whatever they were, sounded even worse than the witches - if such a thing were possible.

    The sweet residue of honey lingered carelessly in her mouth, but seemed to sour and grow bitter.

    The tormented faces of the terrified people at the Sacred Grove - her ssmates, the priests, the musicians - punctured and fragmented in vivid images across her unsettled mind.

    The shadows - those flying shapes - swooping down from all directions; the charred smells; the wailing cries; the horrible despair.

    Was Aldwyn right?

    Could he really stop that?

    Could he prevent it from happening all over again to someone else?

    Didn¡¯t she owe it to them to try?

    Didn¡¯t she owe it to Aldwyn?

    And if he was right, it might even help the whole world. Wasn¡¯t that something worth striving for?

    Wasn¡¯t that her duty?

    The very reason the Surrounder had ced them all here to begin with? To help others in their need?

    Her stomach knotted and prickled with heat and cold.T¨ºxt ? N?velDrama.Org.

    But what about Ellis?

    Wasn¡¯t she about to leave with him?

    To have a life with him, and a chance of happiness?

    It can¡¯t have been easy for him to defy Aldwyn like that - not after all those years together, not after such closeness.

    He deserved her support.

    Her nervous fingers fretted against each other.

    But if Aldwyn was right, they could always go their separate ways after this journey.

    And helping Aldwyn, this one more time, would be a fitting way to pay back all the kindness that he had shown her - that he had shown them both.

    ¡°I will go with you, Aldwyn,¡± she said.

    Kira recoiled at the bold, confident sound of her own voice breaking through the startled tension; the eyes of the other two turned towards her.

    She hardly knew where such words hade from. True, they had been rustling around in her restless thoughts - but they had somehow escaped from her inattentive mouth before she could really prevent them - and now there they were - hanging in the strained atmosphere of the room.

    ¡°If it will stop the witches, then I will go with you,¡± she repeated.

    ¡°No!¡± Aldwyn replied sharply. ¡°You must note - you could endanger us all. The Cathedral vallum will protect you - it is safe here.¡±

    The warm blood rose to Kira¡¯s cheeks.

    Was she really so clumsy and inept that he didn¡¯t want her?

    Was she really such a liability?

    Had they honestly been through everything together - the vers, the wolves, the Akkipter - just so he could leave her here now - or force her back to a dreary convent full of spiteful nuns?

    She stood and faced him fully and dug her stubborn toes down into her boots.

    ¡°You seem to forget that I was actually there,¡± she said. ¡°I saw what the witches are capable of - they murdered my ssmates, they murdered everyone - and very nearly killed me too - I only escaped by ident. They must be stopped before it¡¯s toote, and if I can help with that, then I must go - I must do what I can - can¡¯t you see that?¡±

    ¡°But¡­ it¡¯s just that it would be much safer for you here,¡± Aldwyn stuttered. ¡°The vallum¡­¡±

    ¡°I know I am just a girl and I cannot wield the magik,¡± said Kira, ¡°and perhaps my arms are not strong enough to use a sword - but you say that this relic is hidden in some tunnels? Have you already forgotten that it was me who led us down through the caves behind the waterfall? I am the smallest and narrowest - I can wriggle through gaps and cracks that you men cannot - so if we must steal something to save the world, then I would make a far better, more agile thief, than you.¡±

    ¡°But I just meant¡­¡± Aldwyn tried.

    ¡°And if I can smuggle a pikelet past the nose of Sister Amelia Constance, then I can steal anything! And I mean, it¡¯s not like we would <i>really</i> be stealing - we could give it straight back after we¡¯ve used it.¡±

    ¡°But the vallum¡­¡± said Aldwyn.

    ¡°And I¡¯ve decided - I don¡¯t want to go back to the convent - so don¡¯t try to make me. I didn¡¯t like it there, and now that I¡¯ve seen some of this world, I want to try and live my life in it. Yes, there are dangers, and I don¡¯t have all the answers, but I know that I want to be part of the world, to live my life in it, and not just be shut away behind a set of high walls.¡±

    She stepped towards the old man and saw the sad kindness glint in his eyes. The sleeve of his tunic was rough beneath her fingers as she held his arm, but beneath the coarse material was a warm and soft pulse.

    ¡°We are friends, Aldwyn, and friends help each other when they are in need. You have been so kind to me - now it¡¯s my turn to be of service to you.¡±

    She stroked his sleeve as she looked up at the thawing wrinkles of his face.

    ¡°Besides,¡± she smiled, ¡°who else will dig you out of a crack in the rocks if I¡¯m not there to excavate you?¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s a bit moreplicated than that,¡± said Aldwyn. ¡°I know you would be a great help¡­¡±

    ¡°Then I will go too,¡± Ellis interrupted.

    The wrinkles on Aldwyn¡¯s brow arched and deepened again as he raised his eyebrows.

    ¡°So, you would not follow me - but you will go if Kira is there?¡± he said softly.

    The hot, happy blood burned into Kira¡¯s cheeks.

    Her exhrated shoulders still tingled and fluttered with the buoyant adrenaline of her speech, but they knew they could rx now if they really wanted.

    Her future was settled.

    She had said what she had wanted - what she had needed to say.

    Her anxious stomach dpressed.

    She would not return to the convent.

    And Ellis would go with her.

    She knew she could trust him!

    And surely Aldwyn couldn¡¯t turn them both down?

    And she would do her bit to help the world.

    Perhaps she could even get some justice against those horrid witches after what they did.

    Could that even be her true purpose?

    Was that why the Surrounder had saved her that night?

    Aldwyn sighed deeply beside her.

    ¡°Very well then - I see how thend lies here. Pack what you need, then get some rest - we leave at first light.¡±

 65. The Troubles of Gimel

    Gimel paced the small, in quarters he had been assigned.

    The sombre tolling of the Great Cathedral Bell barely disturbed his troubled thoughts.

    For too long now, there had been no news from his trusted colleagues concerning Ilgar¡¯s revolt - no news at all.

    Perhaps they had been discovered and killed - for surely they would never betray him - no torture or gold could buy their loyalty or friendship.

    But he must continue to gather information and attempt to discover the true source of power behind his brother¡¯s murder.

    And his duties as a priest still called to him - he could not remain here indefinitely - who would guide the wandering souls of the departed ones and protect them on their journey to Jahluu?

    Would they roam forever?

    Or wait amongst the shifting dunes for his return?

    His nose still held on to the scent of the incense which smoked within his temple - but for how much longer?

    And could he even still wield the symbols of Qhul, and use his powers?

    He had been warned that the protective Vallum which shielded the Cathedralplex would prevent the use of magik - but he had not thought it would be such a powerful enchantment - to rob him entirely of their familiar,forting hum and glow during his stay there.

    The hard floor of the room was unresponsive and cold; the shallow pulsing echo of his footsteps rang in his head.

    The tight, stone space they kept him in was unnatural and strange - from inside its walls, it was not possible to feel the questions the wind was asking below its breath.

    And without thepliant goodness of the swirling sands yielding beneath his feet, how was it possible to predict theing of Sorrow, or the jealous movements of the djinn?

    His host had warned him not to venture outside the room and mix with others - he could happily live isted from thepany of men, perhaps even, given the need for his own secrecy, it was better that way - but in epting the offer of refuge, he had not considered his separation from the living world - to be sealed into a tiny existence of his own.

    Sealed in - save for the narrow, uncertain joy of the slit window - but the few times he had been brave enough to open it, the bitter winds of thisnd had not favoured him with a wee, but instead blew harshly and cold into his ears and face.

    And, at the time of his arrival, the stately trees outside had worn red leaves - golden and glowing soft; now they had given this great mantle to the wet ground. He had read of such things, but the strangeness of their patterns, and the weather, and their choices and adaptations, were confused and bewildering.

    At least inside there was a fire to warm him - and the food was ptable enough - if a little nd for his tastes. Why did the cooks here not use the spices of Khijl province to add life to their dishes?

    But their customs were not his - there was still much to learn of theirnd; he must adapt and grow into his new surroundings - but he must never allow the cold damp winds of this ce to extinguish the desire which burned within him - the desire to avenge his brother and return to the duties he owed to his homnd.

    A sharp knock at the door interrupted his pensive footsteps.

    He recognised the rhythm as brother Caldor¡¯s and turned thetch to let him in.

    ¡°I trust that everything has been to your satisfaction thesest few weeks?¡± his host asked. ¡°I regret that I have been unable to spend more time with you - but that is one of the burdens of officialdom.¡±

    His host always began their meetings with these empty, meaningless questions and excuses - but he had also learnt that his host only ever visited him if he had a specific reason to do so. He was aware of this custom and began the dance.

    ¡°I am also familiar with this burden,¡± he replied.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry about the need for keeping you here in secrecy - but not all of the members of our glorious Church share my enthusiasm for broadening our cultures, and some may object to your presence here, as you are not of our faith.¡±

    ¡°Please do not let this trouble you - you have been a most generous and amodating host.¡±

    His host picked up a scroll from the table and nced at it.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for the rather small chamber we have given you - but I see at least you have been managing to divert yourself with these documents.¡±

    ¡°The papers you have brought from your renowned Library have been most educational and informative - I am grateful to have read them - there is nofort more blessed than the knowledge found within a learned manuscript.¡±

    ¡°Yes. Quite.¡±Material ? of N?velDrama.Org.

    His host paused; a silence settled on the room.

    The dance was done; the one-who-dressed-in-ck was about to reveal the real reason for his visit.

    ¡°Just out of interest,¡± his host said, ¡°I wondered if you¡¯ve ever heard tell of the Quillon of Hekubate?¡±

    Here it was atst - the true purpose.

    But there was something new this time - he had not spent long in the presence of his host, but he knew enough of the man to discern when he was trying to keep the open truth from leaving his mouth.

    He would need to be cautious.

    ¡°Its fame and power have spread even to mynd,¡± he replied.

    ¡°Excuse my curiosity,¡± his host continued, ¡°but what do the tales in yournd say about it?¡±

    ¡°The priests say that it is a key - a key which can open up a portal to the realm of demons. Its power is dangerous and destructive - it is even rumoured to have a will of its own - born from the Demon Lord who first used it and embedded part of his immortal soul in its de.¡±

    ¡°Most interesting.¡± His host took a few silent paces around the room. ¡°But one of our advisors seems to feel it could be used in helping to cast a protective spell to repel witches - as you know we have been sorely troubled by these creatures ofte - do you think it could be used in this way - to amplify an apotropaic incantation?¡±

    ¡°I have no specialist knowledge of this artefact - only the ancient rumours of my own people - perhaps a deeper study would bring about a different answer - but nothing I have ever learnt of the Quillon would suggest it could be used in the way you suggest.¡±

    The eyes of the one-who-dressed-in-ck narrowed and lost their focus. He smoothed his palm across his chin.

    ¡°Then what dark and dangerous necromancy is the old fool scheming now?¡± his host muttered to himself.

    His host paced the room slowly, his hand rubbed at his face.

    But no more questions arrived.

    His host turned.

    ¡°Well, this has been most interesting - I will leave you to your studies.¡±

    His host left the room, his ck cloak ruffled and followed him through the door.

    A still silence of fell across the chamber.

    Gimel sat near the desk; istion could be a troubling thing, but undoubtedly it was morefortable than to be under the sour tension of his host¡¯s searching eyes.

 66. The Tightness of a Collar

    The cor of Xuil jangled on Vlicien¡¯s chest as he walked. Its dark jewel glinted as he strode between the tall, ming ceremonial bowls that purified the entrance to the Chamber of Ancestors.

    He bowed solemnly to the borately carved altar on the wall, and felt the cor¡¯s resentful grip in the flickering glow of the cavernous room.

    Perhaps its tight iron links had been meant for one whose neck muscles were not asrge and powerful as his - it always left an unpleasant smudged ring around his taut grey skin, so that for several nights afterwards, it was still possible to see he had been called to a formal asion.

    Perhaps its restricting size was a deliberate act to remind him of his father¡¯s hold over him?

    Perhaps it was there to teach him that he was not a king - and that a prince must bear the burden of his royal duties and responsibilities - that he must feel the taunting sting of his enemies - with no power to call his own.

    He flexed and stretched his neck against its ufortable constraint.

    How like his father to constantly remind him of such a lesson - to suppress his true abilities, to impose a deep humility on him.

    The thick columns of hollow skulls looked down on him from their niches in the rough stone interior.

    If only he could be Garzaan like them and earn his ce in the Chamber.

    If only he could be given a chance to prove his worth and enter the stories of the Khaldaan.

    The cor pinched and gripped again.

    He turned to the centre of the room. Ylukvas, the thick-armed warrior, bowed his respects; his ded axe caught the rolling light from the trestled bowls.

    Here at least was someone who took him seriously - someone who would listen.

    True, their earlier discussion had not gone well, but Yulkvas remained a worthy tutor along the warrior¡¯s path.

    ¡°But if my father would just trust me - even with a small army,¡± Vlicien said. ¡°We would easily overpower the puny humans at night when the Compulsion of the immortal ones is upon us. We would crush them and take back our ancestralnds. With nning and daring, in a few weeks, all would be ours - we could wipe the humans from the upper-world, and reim all that was ours and punish them for their centuries of scorn.¡±

    ¡°Patience, my young prince!¡± Yulkvas replied. ¡°You may have almostpleted the Shul¡¯ad-naz and be a full warrior, but you still have much to learn. Your father is a great king - trust his judgement - he protects his people and keeps them out of harm - he does not seek unnecessary trouble with the upper-worlders and their ways. He understands the value of peace over war.¡±

    ¡°But we could be so much more,¡± said Vlicien, ¡°with our strength and skill with the ded-axe, we could take more territory from these weakling overnders, instead of merely skulking here - we were created to rule this world not cower in its shadows.¡±

    ¡°Your years approach fullness, highness, but your words betray the strength of the demon within you - their bonding lends us great power, but be careful not to allow their hatred and blood-lust, their darkest desires to consume this world, to conquer your own senses and emotions.¡±

    Vlicien turned and paced the smoothed floor towards the turbulent pool ofva which bubbled and protected the far wall.

    Even his faithful mentor and friend did not seem to understand or trust his judgements.

    How many times could they keep repeating this same old argument?

    Walvaan, the god of theva, the giver and taker of life, rippled and boiled in the pit below his feet.

    His rolling orange shadows searched across the dark walls and paid their respects to the staring rows of skulls.

    ¡°You must be careful not to follow the anger of your heart,¡± Yulkvas continued, behind him. ¡°Your father and I have seen the results of war - we understand the true cost of battle - and do not forget the strength of the human magik - it is far greater than anything in our own understanding.¡±

    Vlicien breathed in the rich, invigorating sulphur fumes - they tasted of power, of glory, of conquest.

    But how could he ever make his father, or Yulkvas, understand their burning potency?

    His eyes strayed along the great arc of stone which bridged theva pool, past the sacred locked barriers of Joul, to the niche in the farthest wall, where the strange metal of the Great Tooth glinted and sparkled at him; beckoning him to power.

    It was close.

    If only he could reach it and wield it.

    But the barriers prevented him.

    And his father had not yet trusted him with the passing-key.

    ¡°If my father truly wishes me to learn and be a great king,¡± he said as he turned back to face Yulkvas, ¡°then why has he not yet shown me the secrets of Hekubate¡¯s Tooth? With its power, we could unite the ns and sweep away all before us.¡±

    ¡°Your father will judge when that time is best,¡± Yulkvas replied.

    ¡°No - he will never allow it - he keeps finding excuses to prevent the gift of a passing-key. It is only my father¡¯s stubbornness, his desire to cling to the old ways, that prevents our glory. His fear is greater than his shame - he does not hear the other ns mocking us, or feel the sour sting of their words. He does not trust me.¡±

    ¡°The sting of their words are as nothing to the bitter pain of losses in a great war - diplomacy and patience have always been a king¡¯s greatest weapons.¡±

    ¡°Then why do I need you to instruct me in the ways of Shul¡¯ad-naz? Why learn the zing light ofbat if I can never use it?¡±

    ¡°The martial system should only ever be ast resort - a means of self-defence and not an act of careless attack, my prince. The path of the warrior teaches self-discipline, not violence - to m and harness the powers of the immortal demon who dwells within us. If you have not yet learnt this, then I have failed you as a teacher.¡±

    ¡°But how can I be patient and show self-discipline when my father treats me like one of his servants? It is more than any true Nizul can stomach - let alone one born of royal blood. Even now he calls me here to the Chamber just to taunt and frustrate me, to parade me beneath the watchful gaze of the sacred Garzaan - without ever allowing me the opportunity to prove myself or join them in their glory - see even now how their brave skulls mock me.¡±

    The ming bowls of oil, which purified either side of the altar¡¯s intricate flowing designs from their high trestles, briefly dimmed and flickered their venerated shadows across the glistening white skulls.

    ¡°You are wrong, my prince, he bids you here in formal cor to show you¡­¡±

    Vlicien recognised the sound of his father¡¯s footsteps approaching from the corridor, even when they were mingled with the nking echoes of his two guards.

    The group entered briskly past the purifying essence of the tall ming bowls.

    The high jewels of the rich golden cor of Xal glinted around his father¡¯s neck in the rumbling orange glow ofva and torch-light.

    Clearly his father intended this to be a formal meeting - but to what purpose?

    Vlicien pped his fist to his chest and bowed his allegiance.

    ¡°Hekubate live eternally within my king!¡± he said.Copyright N?v/el/Dra/ma.Org.

    His father nodded an acknowledgement.

    ¡°Prince Vlicien, we meet here so that our ancestors, the worthy Garzaan, may witness the asion and hear our words.¡±

    ¡°Yes father, I feel the weight of their gaze upon me.¡±

    ¡°The greatest honour any Nizul can achieve is to live for all eternity here, to bask in the restless warmth of Walvaan, and reside by the power of the Great Tooth.¡±

    ¡°Yes father, I am aware of their honour - but when will I get my chance to join them? To prove myself in battle?¡±

    ¡°A king¡¯s life is one of servitude, not glory.¡±

    ¡°But a king must also lead - a king should unite the ns and gather their strength to push back against the scourge of the humans.¡±

    ¡°You may hate the humans, young prince, but we were once as them - and uniting the ns is no simple business. Stability is more important than a dearly bought expansion - especially as our numbers are now so few.¡±

    ¡°But father, we are the ruling n of kings - we should force the others to obey us - we wield the Tooth, we have the power to name the demons that are bonded to the Nizul - if all join under onemand, we will cleanse the humans from the surface and reim ournds.¡±

    The king let out a deep breath and looked around at the walls.

    ¡°Many of your noble forebears died for such an idea,¡± he said. ¡°There is the skull of Manaaz who died fighting by my side - and there Yuris, who protected me at the cost of his own life - a true and worthy Garzaan. Be mindful, young prince, of the bitterness of the wars - that we were powerful when the bright eye of day withdraws and the Compulsion surges through our bodies - but under the cursed ever-watchful eye of, Yinjus, god of light, the humans fought back, and reimed much that we had just taken - at great cost to our warriors. The humans number more than the stars at night - we cannot hope to extinguish them all - and weck the power of their magikants.¡±

    The king¡¯s fist pressed down onto his shoulder; his father¡¯s eyes stared straight into his.

    ¡°No,¡± said the king, ¡°the foolish ways of war must not be sought. And besides, we gave our word in the truce - we are only better, more noble and pure than the humans, because our words are never broken.

    The proud blood of the Nizul surged its frustrated resentment through Vlicien¡¯s chest.

    The same old stories.

    The same old excuses.

    If his father could just see - if he would just try.

    ¡°But these were the old wars, father, with your old methods and ns - I am not so bound up in the old traditions, their ways do not encumber me, if I could just¡­¡±

    ¡°No Vlicien.¡± The king¡¯s grip tightened on his shoulder. ¡°You were not born in the time of thest war - you did not see the true cost - we must not lead the ns towards the folly of death on your royal whim, warriors should not die just so you can y at war.¡±

    ¡°Forgive me father - my loyalty is to you - it¡¯s just that ¡­¡±

    ¡°Silence! Am I not the king?! Let me hear no more about your boyish dreams of conquest - we must protect the ns, not get them killed in a war we cannot win. Learn from the bitterness of our defeats and understand the value of patience and survival. You should be more like Yulkvas - that is why I presented him as your tutor- there are times I have even wished that he had been my son and not you.¡±

    ¡°Yes father, you have often made me feel the weight of your disappointment.¡±

    ¡°Extinguish the vanity of conquest from your thoughts. I had summoned you here to gift you a passing-key - but I see from your talk of war that you are not yet ready to wield the Tooth. Perhaps we will try again another time.¡±

    Vlicien flexed the muscles across his shoulders; the king¡¯s hollow footsteps rang out of the chamber; the chain of Xuil bit into his flesh.

    The resentful blood that shamed through his body knew that his words had not been those worthy of a prince - but wasn¡¯t that the very problem?

    For too long, the Nizul had stubbornly relied on the old methods - they had trusted the pathway of Shul¡¯ad-naz.

    That was why he had been forced to act.

    In time, his father would see it - they would all see it.

    And when they understood, then they would be proud of his actions; then he would truly earn a ce in the ranks of the Garzaan.

 67. A Thief Makes Her Move

    The humid sweat clung to Kira as she peered out from the dark of the tunnel, through the ornate grille, at the flickering orange shadows which lit the room beyond.

    Two huge, bowl-shaped oilmps stood on trestles directly opposite her low hiding ce, guarding either side of the chamber¡¯s entrance. Two more stood sentry just in front of her vantage point, their dancing mes glistened white across the dense rows of skulls which lined the rough interior.

    The damp, stinking mire of the surrounding swamps still infected her clothes, but the fierce, sweltering bite of nauseating sulphur that stabbed out at her from the room, threatened to overwhelm her senses.

    She winced and held her breath, desperate not to cough and betray her position, as the stench attacked the back of her throat.

    Her legs and back ached from the cramped, motionlessness nights beneath Aldwyn¡¯s spells, and her mind still raced with the fears of what the Reevers would do to them if they were caught - from the stories she had been told, it did not seem that even the three soldiers who had travelled with her, Aldwyn and Ellis, would not be enough to protect them if those horrifying-looking creatures returned unexpectedly.

    ¡°Well, at least we know the Librarian¡¯s charts were urate,¡± Aldwyn whispered. ¡°This is definitely the relic chamber.¡±

    ¡°Now¡¯s our chance, while the room is empty,¡± Beris whispered as he pushed past her. ¡°Let me just make a start on this grille.¡±

    Kira¡¯s heart churned to the rhythm of every sound as Beris¡¯s eager knife scratched at the wall around the opening.

    They had risked everything to make it this far - would his de ruin it all now with such a clumsy noise?

    They must seed, they must aplish their goal - they must defeat the witches.

    She stared out again.

    The floor before her was solid rock, but away to her left, arge, seething pool of moltenva covered the rest of the chamber and sshed and gurgled along the far wall. Its viscous churning oranges and yellows threw a confusion of shifting shadows across a narrow arc of rock which jutted up from the solid floor and curved across the blistering vapours of the angry magma, but stopped short of the far wall, blocked by tworge bs of stone from above and below.

    The intense, aggressive heat of this steaming, murmuring pit stung her skin even from the distant shelter of the tunnel - but at least its pervasive st was drying out her boots and clothes.

    ¡°But if this is the relic-room,¡± she whispered, ¡°where¡¯s the relic - where¡¯s the thing we came for?¡±

    Aldwyn leaned past her shoulder.

    ¡°You see the barriers thate down across the far end of the bridge?¡± he asked. ¡°It¡¯s protecting a recess in the wall. That¡¯s the direction the Reevers kept looking - so my guess is the Quillon will be a dagger-shaped object somewhere behind that mechanism.¡±

    ¡°So we¡¯ll have to cross theva to get to it,¡± said Kira. ¡°But how will we get past those barriers?¡±

    ¡°Look closely,¡± Aldwyn said, ¡°the top and bottom halves don¡¯t quite join in the middle - someone small and nimble enough could just about squeeze through.¡±

    Ellis pushed past from the tunnel behind them.

    ¡°Once this grille is off, I¡¯ll sneak out and get it,¡± he said.

    ¡°No,¡± said Kira, ¡°I didn¡¯t trudge through all those sludgy swamps just to hide back here - I came to help.¡±

    ¡°I think it would be better if Ellis went,¡± Aldwyn intervened. ¡°The Quillon is a very powerful object - it might try to protect itself or even weave its own destiny, if some of the more fanciful the scrolls are to be believed.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Kira replied, ¡°I thought we¡¯d been through all this - I need to know that I¡¯ve done my bit to stop those horrid witches - and besides, his shoulders would never fit through that gap.¡±

    Ellis peered out at the room.

    ¡°Well, just be careful then,¡± he said reluctantly. ¡°And I¡¯m going into the room with you - just in case.¡±

    ¡°Hmm. Be very careful,¡± Aldwyn conceded. ¡°And make sure you only hold the Quillon by its handle - never touch the de.¡±

    Even in the dark of the tunnel, his face was creased with obvious doubt.

    Was she really so useless?

    Such a liability?

    Hadn¡¯t shee all this way - just like Aldwyn, Ellis and the soldiers?

    She dug her toes down into her boots.

    She could get the Quillon.

    She would have to.

    ¡°I can do it,¡± she whispered. ¡°It won¡¯t be easy getting over that bridge - but I¡¯ll take my time, and I¡¯m sure I can squeeze through the barrier - I¡¯ll manage.¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± said Ellis, ¡°but it¡¯s not exactly an easy route.¡±

    ¡°Hmm,¡± Aldwyn agreed, ¡°but we have to hope that this might also be to our advantage - with the Quillon hidden away like that, it might be a good while before the Reevers realise it¡¯s been taken - which will give us all the more time to escape.¡±

    Beris put his knife away and turned to Aldwyn.

    ¡°Grab the other side. Don¡¯t let it drop on the floor.¡±

    Aldwyn huddled past her and helped to wrestle the weight of the grille away from the wall.

    Kira held her straining breath; her worried ears listened intently, certain that the Reevers must detect them at any moment, as the thin rumbling, grating sound scratched and scraped into the quiet of the chamber beyond.

    The soldiers¡¯ tales of soul-devouring and demon worship surged across her imagination.

    Her finger-tips grew mmy - whether from heat or fear, she could not be certain.

    Finally, the two men smuggled the detached grille silently to the ground, and only the heaving gasp of Aldwyn¡¯s breath could now betray them.

    Beris darted his head through and scanned the room.

    He crawled into the chamber, crouching low into the shadows of the trestle of one of the huge bowlmps above.

    ¡°All clear,¡± he reported.

    Ellis mbered through and reached his hand back towards her.

    Beris readied his bow and aimed toward the chamber¡¯s entrance.

    ¡°I hope you know what you¡¯re doing - trusting this to a girl,¡± he growled hoarsely to Aldwyn.

    Kira¡¯s vexation at his words was distracted by the sting of hot floor which scorched into her knees.

    Ellis¡¯s palm was already humid as he helped her stand.

    She drew her head clear of the huge trestle-burner; the violent steaming heat of theva assailed her and forced the perspiration to drip and tickle down her temples as she surveyed the room and the task before her.

    The malevolent, rotting brimstone stench bit into her recoiling senses; her eyes welled with protective tears; her nose and throat withered under the harsh, boiling fumes.

    The charnel skulls red out at her from all around - ominous and forbidding in their unwanted wee - their deathly urgency pressing in on her - reminding her that the Reevers might return at any moment.

    She shuddered, desperate not to join their macabre ranks and gaze at all eternity through their ghastly hollow sockets.

    ¡°Hurry - before theye back,¡± Beris urged.

    She would get the Quillon; she would prove him wrong.

    Ellis nodded solemnly; his eyes shone out at her with a deep care and concern.

    ¡°Quickly then - but be careful,¡± he said.

    Kira¡¯s apprehensive stomach tightened as she hurried across the nauseous harshness of the room to the narrow beam of rock at the edge of theva pool.

    The scalding heat snarled up at her legs and feet; she winced and wiped the melting tears from her eyes, as the furious st tore at the exposed skin of her face and the thick fog of sulphur fumes assaulted her nose and throat.

    This was madness!

    She would never survive such an ordeal.

    Her anxious stomach knew that even if the heat andva didn¡¯t devour her, once she was out on the arcing bridge, she would bepletely exposed - there would be nothing Ellis or the soldiers could do to help her if the Reevers returned unexpectedly - there would be nowhere to hide.

    She nced back at herpanions and tried to quieten the panic of her stricken adrenaline.

    Beris and Ellis looked back at her expectantly; Aldwyn gazed on from the shadowy opening.

    The strength of their unity calmed her pulsing thoughts.

    She touched her tunic and traced the outline of Harath¡¯s feather.

    She hadn¡¯te all this way just to give up now - not with the prize right before her, almost in sight.

    She could not let the others down.

    They were all relying on her.

    They must stop the witches.

    There must be no more scenes of merciless ughter, like the one she had lived through.

    There was no time to waste on self-pity - she must get on and do her job.

    ¡°Courage!¡± she urged her nervous feet, as they shuffled a few abbreviated steps - out, over the edge of theva, and onto the thin spear of rock.

    Her bncing arms wobbled out at either side; she must focus, she must keep looking forward, steadily at the barrier; she must not nce down at the maliciousva below, waiting for the opportunity to destroy and consume her.

    The others were relying on her.Material ? of N?velDrama.Org.

    She must y her part.

    She must trust her awkward legs to guide her across - to find a steady pathway over the slender curve of rock.

    The hissingva bubbled and rolled below; the gruesome heatshed up; the barbed pungent stench invaded every pore.

    She edged forward, her body swayed and adjusted to the narrow bow of stone, up and over the highest point of the arc.

    She was half-way there!

    She must keep going; she must be calm and stay focused.

    The worn soles of her boots slithered on the thin smoothness of the rock as she moved down towards the opening.

    Her fearful arms jerked out wider; she tilted and wobbled, but regained control before her prickling breath had time to panic.

    She shortened her steps, one toe barely in front of the other; she spread her weight evenly, as best she dared, and slowly crept down the sweeping descent of the curve.

    The barrier was there - just before her; her eyes were almost level with the slight gap between the two huge teeth of rock.

    A shy metallic glint sparkled out at her from behind the thin opening.

    Her excited heart fluttered.

    It must be the Quillon.

    She was nearly there.

    The nervous sweat tickled at the back of her knees.

    The bludgeoning heat punished her wilting frame.

    Just a few more tentative steps.

    Her relieved arms stretched out and flung themselves at the solid support of the top b of rock.

    She hugged it tightly and clung on, while her grateful lungs finally dared to rx and breath again.

    Her tense shoulders eased back into their normal position.

    The queasiness in her stomach settled.

    She had made it!

    She was over!

    She would not stumble or fall from here.

    The ravenousva would have to wait a little longer for its next victim.

    Her forearms and hands stung with sudden raw blistering pain. She twitched her wounded limbs back and jerked her cheek away from the barrier. Her worried feet wobbled but held steady. The b had singed through her clothing and scalded her skin.

    This was not the time to rx and congratte herself - the rock bs were far hotter than the rest of the noxious chamber - and she would have to worm her way through them to get the Quillon.

    Her dizzy stomach prickled and churned.

    But she did not have time to reassure it.

    It was not safe to stay there.

    She would have to work - and work quickly before the caustic heat could overwhelm her.

    She stooped and squinted along the length of the narrow aperture.

    Its intense quivering heat-waves blurred her view, but hanging from the wall, at the far end of the barrier, was a gleaming dagger-like object.

    It must be the Quillon - just as Aldwyn had described.

    The fierce heat from the rock bs seared her face.

    It was much worse than the time Sister Iona had asked her to help with the ovens.

    But the Quillon wasn¡¯t too far away - surely she could reach it?

    She pulled her head back and tried to take a deep, calming breath in the maelstrom of venomous heat and fumes that roared up at her.

    She could make it.

    They were all relying on her.

    She must make it.

    She hade this far - now was not the time to waver.

    She held her breath and wriggled her head and arms into the narrow gap.

    She screwed her eyes tight against the ferocious temperature.

    The rough stone barriers gripped and burned at her shoulders and belly, savaging her from all sides.

    Her hands stung and blistered as she dragged herself further into the unrelenting torture.

    The constricting surfaces, above and below, blocked out the constant turmoil and hiss of theva, but the trapped quiet of the slender aperture began to fill with the acrid scent of charred cloth and hair.

    She pushed with her scalded knees, twisting her body through the poisonous heat, as it slowly toasted her alive.

    If she survived, she would never be so cruel to bread again.

    The evaporating sweat did not have time to form on her brow or temples; the moisture from her mouth and tongue was stripped away as the formidable temperature burnt its dryness into her cracking lips.

    But she must keep going.

    She must reach the Quillon.

    Her eyebrows shuddered and crinkled in the intense grinding heat, but she fought on.

    She knew it could not be much further, but could not bear to open her vulnerable eyes and check.

    Her fingers scrabbled ahead and gratefully curled around the edge of the bottom b.

    They were free of the suffocating temperature, but now had to grasp at the blistering rock to drag her head and body forward.

    She squirmed her knees and kicked her feet, straining to pull her weight through.

    Her head emerged; she gasped a relieved breath, but her body was still wedged in the burning crevice.

    She pushed and dragged again, fighting the excruciating surfaces, until her shoulders broke free into the rtive coolness of the chamber beyond the barrier.

    Her apprehensive thoughts dared her to open her eyes.

    There it was - hanging from a recess in the wall, the Quillon.

    She would get it.

    She would help to defeat the witches.

    She stretched her taut, weary arm but failed to reach it.

    Just a little further - a wriggle of her burning hips and knees.

    She stretched again.

    Her fingerstched on to the smooth handle of the Quillon and yanked it free from the wall.

    A strange vibration quivered through her hand along the length of her arm.

    Perhaps it was exhaustion or cramp from the unbearable heat?

    The weight of the dagger nestled in her palm, but her hand refused to acknowledge that it was holding anything.

    Perhaps the blisters had numbed her touch, or the thick perspiration had stolen her sensation?

    Her fingers gripped tighter, and her eyes confirmed that the Quillon was definitely there.

    Its lustrous metal glinted in a beguiling sheen of blues and greens and yellows.

    A bitter smell of ckening cloth distressed her nose.

    Her stomach and legs cried out in scorching pain and jolted her back to the perilous chamber.

    This was no time to gaze at an old relic!

    She must focus, she must move - and move quickly.

    She pushed herself back into the tight boiling confines of the barrier; her battered boots rocked and scraped their wriggling way between the fiery airless surfaces.

    She pushed with her free hand and clutched the Quillon tightly with the other.

    Her arm pulsed along its length with a peculiar twisting throb.

    She must get the Quillon back to Aldwyn as soon as possible.

    Her scorched body squirmed through the burning rock.

    She must get out.

    She must not be trapped in there.

    A deep panicking fear closed in around her, but she dug her scalded legs into the caustic surface and hauled herself back.

    Her toes rasped, then fell free of the abrasive edge.

    She was nearly there.

    She must save herself, then get the Quillon to Aldwyn.

    She dragged her weight along with her knees and pushed back with her empty hand.

    Her legs kicked free and slid out.

    She paused to grasp for the solidity of the bridge with her iling boots, then finally pulled her torso and head free.

    She stood upright and gasped down a thankful breath.

    The sulphurous fumes thickened and closed in around her; she coughed and choked, but she had made it - she had retrieved the Quillon, and the foulness of the air could not dampen her proud, jubnt heart.

    She nced back across theva pool towards herpanions and held her prize aloft.

    From the shadows of the trestle, Ellis motioned for her to return.

    She steadied her triumphant feet and turned to shuffle back across the bridge.

    The Quillon seemed heavy in her grasp and dragged her arm down. She could not bnce as easily as before, and the tingling numbness had travelled to her shoulder.

    She clung to the relic even tighter - she could not risk dropping it now, or it would be lost forever in the molten pool ofva which bubbled and swirled below. Her flickering eyes assured her it was still there - but she could no longer trust the touch of her fingers or hand.

    Her cautious legs shuffled forward and reached the apex of the arc once more.

    She was halfway back.

    Just a little more time and she would be over.

    She slowed her pace, anxious not to slip again.

    She must focus and be attentive; she must return safely.

    A few more slithering steps, down over the peak of the thin bridge, and the difficult bit waspleted.

    Just a few more careful paces and she would be across and safe.

    They would all return to the Cathedral and stop the witches.

    Then she and Ellis could begin a life together.

    She would be happy.

    She would not return to the nuns and the convent.

    She dared to allow herself a luxury and nced ahead.

    Ellis looked back at her from the shadows of the far wall - even from there, loyalty and concern were etched across his apprehensive face.

    But she had done it, she had yed her part.

    Just a few more shuffling steps back over the narrow arch and she would be back on solid ground.

    The fomenting magma swirled and seethed below.

    Just to her left, a heavy glutinous bubble bloated up from the eddying murmurs; its swollen, viscous energy pushed harder at the broiling surface; its thick ferocious skin expanded and grew until the agitated molten liquid could not restrain it. The huge bubble erupted with a sting p of sloppy orangeva and shot out a steaming jet of dense scalding vapour.

    Kira tried desperately to avoid the acrid spurting discharge and jerked to the right; her doubtful feet wobbled; her body tilted and shifted, her terrified knees ckened and buckled, not certain that they could support her toppling weight.

    But her ankles knew, with horrifying certainty, that she would fall into the deathly red pit below.

    Her startled eyes shed at the Quillon.

    They hade all this way for it - Aldwyn would need it to fight the witches and save the world.

    She must not let her friends down; she must do her bit - if she could not save herself, she must at least give them what they needed to survive - a hope for their future.

    She hurled the Quillon as far as she could, over the vicious pool ofva, into the chamber beyond.

    Its metal nged and ttered as it scraped along the solid floor towards herpanions under the trestlemps.

    The writhing momentum of her throw jerked her body back over the narrow spit of the bridge, but gravity had grasped her and she recognised its fearful, deadly grip.

    In a frantic, desperate lunge, she flung her tumbling body down across the thin causeway.

    Her teeth shed hard against each other, as her soft ribs jolted into the brutal rock and crushed the breath from her lurching lungs.

    The venomous, shiftingva red up at her terrified eyes. Its sickening heat pierced up remorselessly at her dangling feet and threatened to melt her horrified toes.

    She clung on and wrapped her shocked arms around the stone arch; she scrambled her precarious legs back up onto the bridge, coughing through the acrid sulphur fumes and the melting agony of the appalling heat.

    ¡°Kira!¡± Ellis called out. ¡°Hold on! I¡¯ming!¡±

    He charged across the floor towards the bridge.

    She dared not look up at him; she must focus. She wrestled her awkward body back above the narrow slither of scalding rock. Her quivering legs refused to try and stand, but she pushed herself up onto her hands and knees.

    ¡°It¡¯s all right! I¡¯m fine! Just wait there!¡± she whispered hoarsely - there was no sense in both of them risking their lives above the prowlingva.

    She crawled her winded body gingerly back along the bridge; a sudden, ruinous stab of panic coursed through her as her startled ears bristled at the heavy echo of Reever footsteps rapidly approaching the chamber¡¯s entrance.

    1245

    - the relic causes it - as she recovers, hears footsteps - also exins why Ellis is in the room further, he dashes in to rescue her

    Then he gives his life to save her - I knew a girl would bring bad luck- dying breath - or soldier shot in back/arrow?

 68. Discovery of a Theft

    Kira¡¯s ears prickled with nervous rm; the anxious acid stung through her being.

    It was senseless for them both to die.

    ¡°They¡¯reing!¡± she hissed to Ellis. ¡°Run!¡±

    She crawled her bruised and winded body back along the slender beam of bridge; her ribs jarred and stole her breath with every tender movement.

    The Reevers wereing - there was no hope for her - she waspletely exposed on the barren strip of rock, suspended and vulnerable above the hostile pool of bubblingva.

    Ellis stretched out his hand to her.

    ¡°I won¡¯t leave you! You can make it!¡± he urged.

    The bitter rock dug into her knees and blistered palms; the forbidding heat bellowed up its venomous sulphur at her.

    Glwnn and Adden moved from the shadows. Aldwyn stooped into the room and uttered a low, mesmerising chant where he knelt.

    The footsteps hurried and grew louder.

    She hardly dared nce toward the entrance - what good would it do?

    Her tight, forlorn stomach knew they were sure to catch her; to devour her; to torture and destroy her.

    She forced herself forward; she was nearly within touching distance of the solid floor.

    Three or four heavy-set Reevers lurched into the chamber; her panicking eyes refused to stop and count their menacing outlines.

    ¡°Kill them!¡±

    The voice that echoed through her dismal fear was the Prince she had overheard before.

    A blurring arrow streaked across the room from the shadows by the grille. It thudded into the chest of the closest Reever who cried out as a twisting column of dissolving embers gushed out from his wound. He fell to the shocked ground, a crumbling a pile of tormented ash.

    The Reevers charged towards the direction of the arrow, their bodies a darting confusion of speed and anger.

    A fierce ng of metal echoed across the chamber; the swords of Glwnn and Adden shed in the orange re of themps; the Reevers¡¯ broad axes sparked and crackled in their furious clubbing contacts; Aldwyn¡¯s solemn chant deepened in fervent intensity.

    Two more thickset Reevers charged into the chamber.

    The taller one wore a heavy jewelled cor around his powerful neck.

    ¡°Stop the magikant!¡± his voice boomed as they tore towards the shing melee.

    Ellis¡¯s desperate face reached out to her, stretching over the harrowing, raucousva.

    A Reever sprinted towards him. He was out in the open, on the exposed floor of the chamber - he was sure to be killed.

    ¡°Behind you!¡± Kira shouted.

    Ellis turned to draw a hunting knife from his belt.

    The on-rushing Reever pounced and thudded into Ellis¡¯s unprepared body.

    The violent impact of the blow sent Ellis sprawling to his back; he skidded toward the scalding edge of theva pool; his knife ttered useless to the ground; his head dangled limply above the ferocious glowing magma.

    A scream rang out from the shadowy corner by the grille; another Reever clutched at a spiralling stream of distorted fiery fragments billowing up from his wounded chest.

    Aldwyn¡¯s mouth murmured in a frantic, deep focus.

    What was the spell he was preparing?

    Why was it taking so long?

    Could the soldiers protect him long enough?

    Ellis was helpless and alone.

    They would never get to him in time - she could not look to them for assistance.

    The huge Reever towered over him and grinned as he raised his gleaming axe high above his head, the thin greyness of his skin taut across his powerful build.

    The hatred and strength red deep from his eyes, and the hollow staring sockets of the charnel skulls that surrounded them.

    Kira strained out a fearful trembling hand, determined to reach Ellis - to help somehow, to do something; so close - she could smell the danger of his impending death and taste the keen, clear edge of the axe as its dazzling metal glinted in the turbulent mes.

    But there was no time.

    The pendulum de arced to strike.

    Her body screamed out to reach him, paralysed by the numbing shock that pinned her knees to the hot bridge.

    If only she could get to him, if only she could help.

    She could almost touch him, but her desperate, pliant fingers would not stretch far enough.

    Ellis stared up at his disastrous fate - trapped beneath the spell of the awful de and the terrifying song of his own death.

    The life drained from his shocked face; but she could not reach him - she could not help him, or the panicking, onrushing echo of the crowd at the Grove.

    This was not how it was meant to be.

    This was not what the Surrounder had promised - to rx back peacefully into his cradling arms.Material ? of N?velDrama.Org.

    All her hopes of happiness flickered and vanished.

    All the promises of their life together, brutally extinguished in a moment of searing pain.

    She screwed her eyes tight against the horrors of the scene; her bleak, empty hand longed and ached, straining across the boilingva, just to touch him, to help him somehow, to be of somefort.

    The waste of it all!

    The cruel agony!

    The biting descent of raging frustration, unbridled, unconstrained, burning more fiercely than the roaring magma beneath her.

    ¡°Nnoooo!¡± she screamed.

    Her sobbing head rattled with the stark effort, her trembling body shook to its breaking point at the bitter injustice.

    A pure violent pulse vibrated down the length of her arm, her shocked fingers stung in sour, dismal pain far deeper than the oppressive torture of the engulfing heat.

    She refused to open her eyes.

    How could she?

    Why would she want to gaze upon the disconste death of Ellis?

    She was determined to avoid it - never to have it etched across her sorrowful memory, to engulf her life forever.

    But the whipping sting of her throbbing arm shocked her eyes into peeling open against her will.

    The huge Reever stood over Ellis, his hands iled and clutched at a gaping hole which burned through his chest.

    A re of swirling sparks and embers spread out from the wound, absorbing his crumbling body, devouring his frame. He writhed and screamed in his torment, and staggered to the ground, consumed in a zing pile of ash and agony.

    What had happened?

    Perhaps another arrow from Beris?

    But the squalling angry sounds of sharp metal shing, roared and echoed on - he was too busy defending his own life near the grille to have helped.

    She shook her writhing arm out.

    Had she somehow caused it?

    A sensation of guilt prickled across her confused thoughts.

    Perhaps it had been something to do with holding the relic in that hand?

    She knew she could no longer trust her fingers to tell her the truth.

    Or perhaps it had been something else entirely?

    Ellis scrambled to his feet.

    The piercing sounds of angry fighting raged through the chamber and jolted her thoughts back to the perilous situation.

    Now was probably not the best time to stop and ask questions.

    ¡°Quickly! Move!¡± Ellis shouted as he stretched out a hand towards her.

    She limped towards him on all fours as quickly as she dared; her mind still jumbled with confused thoughts and unanswered puzzles, which raced and burned up at her through the stinging heat, as she grasped his grateful hand.

    Her crushed knees sagged with relief as she stood on the solid floor, safe from the swirling threat of theva; safe with Ellis - but the fierce cries of battle would not allow them to rest.

    They must get out. They must get back to the grille opening in the corner and escape.

    But Aldwyn had ceased chanting.

    Why was he no longer absorbed in his focus?

    Surely they needed his magik now more than ever?

    Why had he allowed his concentration to falter?

    Perhaps it was him who had saved Ellis?

    Therge Reever with the jewelled cor loomed over him and raised his axe to strike.

    Aldwyn¡¯s nched face stared up, his desperate hand scrabbled frantically on the floor behind him - his iling fingers stumbled and wrapped around the hilt of the Quillon.

    The Reever swung down hard; his terrible de cleaved through the flickering orange light. Adden thrust his sword across its fearful destructive arc - but the quick course of the de swerved and sliced at his outstretched arm; he cried out as it severed his exposed limb and fell to the ground in the sorrowful throws of a painful death.

    The dire Reever turned to Aldwyn and raised to strike again, but Aldwyn thrust the biting de of the Quillon up, deep into his stomach.

    The Reever screeched out his agony and reeled away; his axe ttered sharply to the ground as he grasped at his wound.

    The drifting kes of burning ember began to rise and swirl around him; he staggered back towards the entrance and copsed.

    The Prince barged Glwnn to the floor and turned, sprinting to the cored Reever, his form a streaking blur of speed.

    He knelt by the dying Reever and tried to sp his hand; the wounded body crumbled and dissolved into a myriad of glowing sparks, which caught the thermal draughts of theva and drifted, swirling away.

    ¡°Father! No!¡± the Prince cried out, as he held up a handful of smouldering dust.

    For a deafening moment, a profound silence stunned through the chamber; the Reevers stood transfixed, staring agape at the smoking, wasted cinders.

    Kira grasped her chance and hobbled back towards the opening in the wall, her legs creased in pain - the close strides of Ellis just behind.

    Aldwyn sprang to his feet with surprising swiftness and gripped the trestle of one of the huge bowlmps which med above him. He strained to pull it down.

    ¡°Themps!¡± he shouted, his knuckles white with effort.

    Ellis dashed to join him and heaved at the opposite corner.

    Kira reached the second bowl and pushed desperately; her weary, aching legs trembled with the struggling exertion; the rough trestle dug deep into her blistered hands.

    Beris flung his weight at the other corner; the bowl shifted and wobbled uneasily above her.

    She thrust with her whole body; her back tensed under the convulsing pressure; the terrified sweat forced its way down her straining spine.

    The Reevers snarled up from their stunned grief.

    The bowl tilted; the weighty mass of oil slopped unsteadily overhead.

    A Reever charged at them, baring his sharpened teeth as he swooped to attack.

    Glwnn¡¯s sword hacked at him and held him at bay.

    Every sinew in Kira¡¯s body wrestled against the huge totteringmp.

    A second Reever readied his axe and sped at Glwnn as he pulled his reeking sword clear of the first.

    Kira tried to turn her wincing eyes away as the great de tore through the whistling air and sank deep into Glwnn¡¯s flesh.

    The Reever growled his approving triumph and turned to attack Kira.

    To her left, the first greatmp swung down and crashed to the ground. The huge bowl thudded and splintered, crushing and incinerating the Reever; its smashed shards scattered in all directions; its heavy, seeping oil sprayed across the floor in oozing streaks of roaring me.

    A writhing living barrier leapt up, partly blocking off the Reevers who jerked back from the congration and howled their outrage.

    Kira heaved at her trestle - the floor at her side was still exposed without the protection of the flowing fire.

    Ellis dashed to help, his face red with effort.

    She leant her full body weight into it; she dug into the ground with determined legs; every muscle and sinew strained; the fear and heat dripped from her breathless body.

    More Reevers poured into the chamber and charged toward the grille opening.

    The giant trestle rocked and swayed; she pulled her exhausted hands away as the bowl lurched beneath its own gravity and toppled, thundering to the shaking ground. Fragments of the vessel exploded in a cascade of zing debris; the thick oil spilled across the ming partition of the first bowl and formed an imprable cross of fire, isting the grille opening from the rest of the room, segregating the furious Reevers from their prey.

    ¡°Quickly,¡± Aldwyn shouted, ¡°we must get back through the tunnels to the daylight outside - it¡¯s our only hope!¡±

    He ducked under the grille opening and the darkness of the passageway swallowed him.

    Ellis stooped to follow.

    Through the writhing walls of orange me, one of the Reevers howled and charged straight at Kira.

    A panic of fear rooted her to the spot.

    The Reever leapt into the ming barrier; his angry momentum threatened to carry him through the bellowing fire; a fierce axe raised high, ready to crash through the burning obstruction and slice through her head.

    It was toote.

    There was no time.

    She could not turn away or even scream.

    The acid in the pit of her stomach froze.

    Her heart thudded its goodbyes.

    The numbing horror paralysed her thoughts.

    Her shocked eyes stared at the pallid grey of his grizzly face, the ck of his hair; waiting; waiting for the heaving axe to swing down and tear her in half.

    His eyes burned a furious raging red, so close she could smell the hatred peel from his skin.

    Her breath would note.

    Was this how it was to be dead?

    She waited - but somehow the mes held him, suspended in the air, close to her face, just away from her vulnerable body.

    His axe fell away behind him, harmless.

    His appalled eyes sagged and hollowed; he gasped down at his chest. Kira followed his gaze, transfixed by his rageful re.

    Beris¡¯s sword protruded out in front of her and was lodged in the Reever¡¯s torso.

    He yanked his de away; the marauding Reever¡¯s body copsed back into the consuming roar of mes.

    ¡°That¡¯s for Glwnn,¡± he said solemnly, staring down at his handiwork. ¡°Now let¡¯s get moving!¡±

    His rough hands ushered Kira firmly toward the grille opening. She stooped and scrambled through, her mind still aze with the eyes of the Reever. Beris¡¯s shadow flung itself before her and blocked off the roaring mes of the chamber behind. The dark silhouettes of Ellis and Aldwyn danced and darted quickly ahead.

    The sudden sheltered stillness of the tunnel was broken by a sharp fizzing hiss which raced past her and ttered into the wall.

    The sound rebounded and rattled to the floor.

    Kira¡¯s eyes strained to adjust against the calmed, cooled darkness, but she saw the spent arrow as she caught up with it, and forced her startled limbs to hurry.

    Another acute hiss sliced into the confined stooping passageway.

    It did not spark crisply into the brittle stone, but thudded aggressively

    into something soft.

    Beris cried out behind her.

    Kira turned in a distressed panic.

    Beris fell to his knees; even in the dark of the tunnel, his shocked face clearly aghast at his fate.

    She dashed back to him, his gaunt features faded and diminished.

    ¡°I knew a girl would bring bad luck,¡± he gasped as he clutched her trembling hand.

    His vacant eyes rolled to an empty gaze; his limp body flopped to the lifeless ground.

    Kira held tightly to his strong fingers.

    This was never meant to have happened.

    Weren¡¯t they here to stop the killing?

    To help people?

    To stop the witches and save the world?

    And yet so many had died - even the Reevers.

    His eyes had seemed almost human.

    His terrified face, like that of the priest she saw, fleeing, frantic, at the Grove.

    When would the trauma of these awful memories leave her?

    When would it end?

    A hand grabbed her shoulder forcefully from behind and jolted her back to the tunnel.

    ¡°Come on! Run!¡± Ellis urged her. ¡°That oil won¡¯t burn forever!¡±

    Her faint legs seemed to sprint through the winding maze of tunnels, towards the hopeful safety of the daylight beyond, propelled by Ellis¡¯s guiding push; but her mind raced even faster - awash with a puzzlement of unhappy, unanswered thoughts.

 69. Words of Caution

    Vlicien growled his anger and frustration at the roaring wall of oily me which writhed and leapt before him. The viciousbustion pushed him back and taunted him defiantly.

    The crude bow of the humans still sang and vibrated against his hand.

    The rats had fled - but they would not survive this outrage!

    They would never escape!

    He would hunt them down, the defiant rock would drink their blood.T¨ºxt ? N?velDrama.Org.

    He threw the bow to the rattling ground.

    This was no weapon of a noble prince - it was the tool of a cowardly assassin.

    Where was the honour in killing a foe without stealing the life from his eyes, and offering his soul as a gift to Hekubate?

    He had allowed his rage and anger to rule his actions and get the better of him - the shallow burden of shame burnt across him.

    This was not a befitting way for a Royal Prince to behave.

    But he was no longer a Prince.

    The title of ¡®King¡¯ now owned him.

    On the ground behind, the jewelled cor of Xaly worthless in the sullied dust; the gems of his ancestors befouled by soot, their lustre gone, their power and symbolism hollowed and rendered meaningless.

    The Great Axe of Khal was his to wield in battle now also - but he would trade these petty trinkets to have his father back.

    The deep, corrupting anger pulsed through his frame; the burning emptiness raged through him without end.

    His rising breath intensified.

    Only one drink would ke this bitter thirst - the blood of his enemies.

    He stepped toward the mes, determined to fight through, to chase down the wretched thieves and murderers.

    The solid thickness of Yulkvas¡¯s arm swept round in front of him and grasped across his shoulder tightly. Its sinewy grip jolted his thoughts back to the Chamber of Ancestors.

    ¡°No, my King - the fire is too fierce.¡±

    The distant words fell from his tutor¡¯s lips - muffled, so far away, beyond a remote echo.

    ¡°We must find them and kill them! Kill them all!¡± the burst of words relieved the building throbbing pressure in his head.

    ¡°But the mes are too intense,¡± Yulkvas replied, ¡°and we do not know how many more of them are waiting for us in the tunnels - or what snares they have set for us in the narrow passageways - the whole manoeuvre could be a trap.¡±

    The strong, faithful arm pulled him further back from the zing obstruction.

    ¡°You are wounded, my King.¡±

    Vlicien had not noticed the cuts to his arm, or the gash across his thigh, or the roughened boils of skin where the mes had assailed him. He tried to centre himself, but his breathing seemed toe in heavy, tortured gulps.

    The sting of his numbed flesh offered a wee distraction to the waves of unrestrained anguish which rang out remorselessly through the rest of his being, and hollowed him with pain and doubt and emptiness.

    How could his father be gone?

    He was just there, alongside him, a heartbeat ago - so solid, so real.

    Who would he impress now with conquest?

    And theirst words were a quarrel - how would this sit when his father reached the Great Hall of Hekubate and took his ce at the Eternal War Council?

    Was he cursed forever?

    Was it toote to take the words back, to be a dutiful son, to agree with his father for the sake of his people?

    This was never meant to happen - it could not have been foreseen.

    Not by him, not by anyone.

    But he must be avenged, or his father¡¯s soul would wander restlessly, never finding its rightful status in the Chamber of Ancestors. It would pursue him for the rest of his days - until Hekubate called him to his Great Hall of Counsel, too.

    ¡°I must go!¡± he protested. ¡°I must have vengeance!¡±

    He pushed against the weight of his mentor¡¯s grasp, struggling to break free.

    ¡°No my King, you are wounded - do you not feel the mes around you?¡±

    A second pair of arms clutched at him and held him back. It was the grip of Zaduul, his father¡¯s advisor.

    ¡°My King, your father would not want you to follow so closely behind his spirit. Use your wisdom! And there is work to be done, for the thieves have stolen the Tooth of Hekubate - we must call the other ns and alert them to this outrage.¡±

    ¡°Rest a moment and think, my King,¡± Yulkvas urged. ¡°This could be the cause you have been searching for - a reason for all the tribes to unite behind us - a war to reim the Tooth.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Vlicien replied, ¡°the other ns would shame us. We have been humiliated - our most sacred Chamber invaded by a worthless gang of thieves and cowards - our King killed! If we cannot protect the Tooth and our own King, how then can we hope to lead the Nizul to victory against the humans?¡±

    ¡°You are right my King,¡± said Yulkvas. ¡°I am d your judgement has returned - we cannot go to them with this inglorious news.¡±

    ¡°I cannot call for a massing of all the ns - only a small band of our own, most trusted warriors, can know of this disaster. I will raid with them and recover the Tooth - this will prove my prowess and leadership, and that the Tooth has chosen me to wield it in my destiny as King. Once we have it back, then can we reveal that the humans have chosen to break the Truce - their actions were a clear deration of war against us and our entire people. The ns will rally behind the power of the Tooth - their hatred will grow at news of this outrage, and they will fight under mymand to reim thend that is rightfully ours.¡±

    ¡°Our scouts will hunt them in the shadows,¡± said Zaduul. ¡°We will find out who sent them - those who would daremit this vition against us.¡±

    Yulkvas ckened his grip.

    ¡°From their robes, they were humans from the Church - I still remember their colours and scent - an old soldier cannot forget his foes.¡±

    ¡°We need not worry with such things,¡± said Vlicien, ¡°the Tooth of Hekubate will take care of itself - and there are those in the human world who are prepared to help us - even those within this ¡®church¡¯ you speak of. Besides, I already have a good idea of where they will take it.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± said Yulkvas. ¡°It is well that you think and n a strategy, my king, - you now act like a true leader - your father would be pleased.¡±

    His father?

    Yes, he would approve such actions.

    The smouldering embers curled and smoked up from the hateful ground nearby.

    The charred kes still clung stubbornly to him as he rubbed the bitter dust in his hand.

    His sorrowed lips brushed against the bereaved harvest as it crumbled through his rueful fingers; it scattered - tugged through the wounded air by the swirling heat of theva and roaring barrier of me before him.

    How could the father, who gave life to him, now be this dispersal of smudges and smears?

    How could the reign of one so great end with such dishonour?

    His spirit tainted with defeat?

    Where was the honour?

    Where was his respected ce in the Hall?

    His eternal life within the mighty favours of Hekubate?

    And the cowards whomitted this transgression still lived, still breathed; prospered and enjoyed the fullness of their destinies?!

    He wrestled against the arms that bound him, that prevented his will, that prevented justice.

    The mes would not stop him.

    Was he not of royal blood?

    ¡°No! We cannot wait! My father¡¯s honour demands it! We must destroy them now and bring peace to his spirit! I will go myself and hunt them through the tunnels! Hekubate lend me strength to fulfil this vow!¡±

    The arms tightened around him and dragged him further away from theughing mes.

    ¡°No,¡± said Yulkvas, ¡°you must think of your people now - they have already lost one King today - it is my responsibility to see that they do not lose another so soon.¡±

    ¡°We must act with caution,¡± Zaduul agreed. ¡°When the resentful eye of the day withdraws, we can hunt them down in the marshes - but we cannot venture outside now - Yinjus, the sun god, would destroy us all in his wrathful envy.¡±

    The arms closed tighter and denied his wriggling will, his promise to his father.

    ¡°And besides,¡± Yulkvas added, ¡°I do not know if you noticed in all the confusion of the fight, or if your memory has been shaken by the death of your father - may Hekubate live in him forever - but that girl the humans had with them - she was a witch.¡±

 70. Voices from Within

    Ellis tried to rx into the familiar shape of the chair, safe in the evening sanctuary of Aldwyn¡¯s chambers. Its smooth, worn frame held himfortably at the table as before, but the cheery crackle of the fire seemed distant and cold; it receded into a vague and distant past, as the goose-bumps crawled nervously along his arms.

    Perhaps the stress and shock of the fight for the Quillon was now finally seeping out through his distraught memories into his skin?

    Or perhaps the days of hard travel and damp coldness had taken their toll?

    The unsettled seasons were changing - the grey autumn skies had already begun to look south for their winter home.

    Certainly the journey had not been an easy experience - pursued at first by the Reever scouts, and then by a guilty friction of dissonance for the deaths they had caused.

    But they had captured the Quillon sessfully - Aldwyn should be able to use it and help the world - to save it from the witches.

    But this victory did not seem to have pleased his old master - indeed, his actions had be even more peculiar and entric since they had fled the Reevers and the marsnds.

    Perhaps the burden of the Quillon was beginning to take its toll on him? Or even a worsening of his star-taint, brought on by the exertions of the journey and the fight?

    It was difficult to know these days - he had be so distant and withdrawn since their arrival at the Cathedral.

    Perhaps his old memories of expulsion still wounded him?

    Or the ndestine nature of the stones which built its sacred walls forced him to secrecy?

    The previous closeness of their friendship seemed as nothing to him now.

    Even Kira had been quiet on the way back. Through the bleak autumn daytime, her skin was pale and wan; and she kept rubbing her shoulder and hand when she thought he wasn¡¯t looking.

    But the fearful stillness of the sleepless nights had also brought dark, stalking worries about his own condition.

    That strange ringing in his ears was still there - an unwantedpanion since his head struck the ground in the fight with the Reevers. Probably it was a simple concussion - but it shouldn¡¯t havested so long - and he was almost sure, as hey helpless on the ground, counting the hollow heartbeats until his death, that the ringing buzz had called out his name, in a breathy, metallic tone.

    That cold, eerie voice still haunted his wandering, fitful dreams - a voice that had distracted him from the brutal heat of theva and the perilous reality of the fight.

    He thought about mentioning it to Aldwyn on the journey back - but the deep fingers of fear had gripped him and bound him fast - perhaps this might be the sad beginnings of his own youthful star-taint?

    Was this how it started - with strange voices in his head?

    Besides, Aldwyn had more pressing matters, and needed all his energy to shield them at nights - there was no need to bother him with such a minorint - or such a tragic one.

    And if Kira should hear them discussing it?

    What would she think?

    How would she react to such a weakness in him?

    Would she still want to be with him - knowing he had such a terrible affliction?

    Knowing his life would inevitably change and end?

    The fraught worries shivered down his back; his skin alert to the possibility of some awful new reality.

    Aldwyn took the Quillon from the depths of his robe and ced it carefully on the table.Copyright N?v/el/Dra/ma.Org.

    Kira sat on the rug and rubbed her hands into the warmth of the fire.

    Her hand strayed up to her elbow, then clutched at her shoulder.

    ¡°Aldwyn?¡± she said. ¡°There¡¯s something I¡¯ve been meaning to ask you ever since we got away from the Reevers.¡±

    Aldwyn pulled a chair out from the table and turned it to face her and the glowing invitation of the hearth.

    ¡°Yes?¡± he replied.

    The cold metal glint of the Quillon red up at Ellis through the dancing candlelight. He blinked its harshness away and tried to focus instead on the back of his master¡¯s head and the soft voice of Kira.

    ¡°It¡¯s about my arm,¡± she said, ¡°even after you healed my cuts and blisters - the arm I held the Quillon in - it still seems to throb and ache. Is that normal?¡±

    Aldwyn shuffled his weight in the chair.

    ¡°The Quillon is truly a powerful artefact,¡± he said quietly, ¡°but I don¡¯t believe that your problems stem from its qualities.¡±

    ¡°Then what is it?¡± Kira asked.

    ¡°Well,¡± said Aldwyn, ¡°do you remember the story I told you concerning the death of the old Patrex?¡±

    ¡°The one about the witch?¡± said Kira. ¡°Yes, but what¡¯s that got to do with my arm?¡±

    ¡°Well, all that I told you was true - but there was more to the tale - more that I was not ready to reveal to you at that time.¡±

    The incessant, distracting ring grew louder - deep inside Ellis¡¯s head. He squinted his eyes shut and tried to concentrate on Aldwyn¡¯s words; his ears crackled and hummed.

    There it was again - that distant whisper, calling to him from the depths of his dreams:

    ¡°<i>Ell¡­is. Ell¡­is. Listen to me, Ellis.</i>¡±

    ¡°Go on,¡± said Kira, ¡°I¡¯m listening.¡±

    Aldwyn¡¯s voice sunk to a low, cautious tone.

    ¡°It seems, as I told you, the Patrex had been seduced by a witch - but I did not mention that their union resulted in the birth of a child.

    <i>¡°Only I can help you, Ellis. You must listen to me.¡±</i>

    Ellis rubbed his fingers into the smooth grain of the table and fought to keep his concentration in the room with the others.

    ¡°Such a progeny ought never to have been brought into this world,¡± Aldwyn continued, ¡°for it was an unnatural coupling, and the strain of bringing the infant into this world must have proved too great, even for a witch, so the unfortunate creature died during the birth - and because of the entanglement of their souls, this also precipitated the death of the Patrex.¡±

    <i>¡°See how he lied to you about his name and his abilities? He is a poly-born - but he never told you. He keeps it all secret from you, Ellis.¡±</i>

    Ellis rolled and cracked his neck and tugged at his hair and ears, but the voice refused to leave him and would not be quiet.

    ¡°The ancient scrolls foretold of this event, and warned that such a child could bring with it only Sorrow. The First Sorrow was for the child¡¯s parents - for the bond which forged the child, was certain to condemn them both; but, most terrible of all, would be the Second Sorrow, when the child had attained its full powers, for this Sorrow would engulf the whole world.¡±

    <i>¡°He took you away from your family, Ellis; he has been against you from the start. He has been holding you back - to stop you from reaching your potential. He is jealous of your powers, of your youth - he wants to keep you as his servant, Ellis.¡±</i>

    Ellis¡¯s legs twitched and convulsed involuntarily; he wrapped his feet around the frame of the chair to stop his boots tapping on ground, but the irresistible, dominating voice would not depart.

    ¡°So what happened to the child? Did it survive?¡± Kira asked. ¡°And I still don¡¯t see what this has to do with my arm.¡±

    ¡°The scrolls identified certain signs and symbols which would apany this child: and one of the Church¡¯s great elders, Father Martin, produced a tome which seemed to confirm their worst, most dreaded fears. I realised something was wrong when I first diagnosed the symptoms of the Patrex¡¯s illness - but, as I have told you, Church infighting forced me out before I could finish my research and, deprived of the benefit of the Great Library here, I had to abandon my investigations.¡±

    <i>¡°He is going to take the girl away from you, Ellis. He wants you to be alone and unhappy. He will keep you for himself, to be his ve, to tend to him in his old age. He will never allow you to be a man, Ellis.¡±</i>

    Ellis dug his fingernails red into his palms; perhaps the pain would distract him from the voice. He gripped and twisted his hair, but the cold, sonorous voice burned between his ears and blocked the blurring confused world out.

    ¡°For the first few years, I kept my eyes out for signs of the child - I travelled frequently with my healing work and listened for any news that might reveal the infant¡¯s whereabouts, but to no avail. At length, I began to hope that perhaps the child itself had not survived so unnatural a birth and that our world was not caught in a grave and perilous danger.

    <i>¡°You must not abandon the girl, Ellis. She relies on you; she needs you; she loves you. You must protect her.¡±</i>

    ¡°But it seems that fate had not yet done with me, for just when I had begun to give up hope of ever finding the child - just when I had stopped looking - when I dared to believe that the child had died or must already havee of age but the danger of the Auguries remained unfulfilled or untrue - that was when a number of clues and symbols began to y across my ageing mind, tormenting and teasing me with half-filled memories and fears.¡±

    ¡°But when was this?¡± Kira asked. ¡°I mean, you¡¯ve been with me and Ellis all this time, and I certainly haven¡¯t seen any signs or symbols or noticed anything unusual.¡±

    <i>¡°You must not abandon the girl, Ellis. You must protect her. Only you can do this. You are special, you are powerful, Ellis.¡±</i>

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s what has been troubling me ever since you first arrived at my cottage.¡±

    ¡°Me?¡± asked Kira. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    The logs on the fire spat and jumped. The candles guttered and flickered in the evening draught, but red and recovered their brightness.

    ¡°I fancied I had observed certain markings on your arms and legs the first time I healed you - but I could not be sure; and, I must confess, my bones are not the only things which are growing old these days, for recently my mind, too, has not been quite what it once was.¡±

    Aldwyn paused and cleared his throat.

    ¡°But when I healed your leg again - in the cave behind the waterfall - those same symbols responded once again within you, but this time they had grown stronger and more prominent. The darkness of the tunnels proved most useful, for it meant my mind was not distracted by other things, and I was finally able to recall where I had seen those images before, and what they could mean.¡±

    <i>¡°Look at all the secrets he keeps from you, Ellis. The lies he has told you. He is stifling your power and growth, Ellis. You must not let him win. His lies must not seed.¡±</i>

    The disjointed walls began to shorten and blur; they refused to focus or remain still; they would not connect properly with the rising, swaying floor.

    But the voice - the voice remained a constant, a beacon, a purity of calmness.

    He gripped the arms of the chair and chafed his thumbs deep into its wood; determined to hold the room still; determined to stop the world turning.

    ¡°Haemagiles are inevitably drawn to the deep energy of our magiks, and their actions, in attacking you, seemed to confirm my suspicions. But I needed to be sure - to have some definite proof that my deliberations were correct - so when I ran back into the cave, to pull you out of the guano, I was able to test my theory and managed to save you with a sudden violent discharge of all of the magik which had been generated and stored within you.¡±

    ¡°Wait!¡± Kira eximed. ¡°You¡¯re saying that my arm feels a bit funny because I¡¯m that child - the one in your story - that I¡¯m a witch!?¡±

    <i>¡°He will hurt the girl, Ellis. You must not abandon her. Only you can stop him, Ellis¡±</i>

    ¡°Yes, precisely - and it seems that you are rapidly growing into your powers, for you released a bolt of energy into the chest of one of the Reevers in the room where the Quillon was kept. I sensed the sudden burst as your abilities twisted and writhed through the shielding spell I was preparing - indeed, the power and force of your magik shocked me and broke my concentration.¡±

    ¡°But I don¡¯t want to be a witch!¡± said Kira. ¡°They¡¯re evil, horrid creatures! They tried to kill me! And I can¡¯t wield magik! I can¡¯t even remember the chanting harmonies to help the magikants!¡±

    <i>¡°Come to me, Ellis. Embrace your fate. You must trust me. You must obey me. Only I can help you, Ellis.¡±</i>

    ¡°And I don¡¯t want to engulf the world or destroy it! You can¡¯t be right, you just can¡¯t be! This is all a terrible mistake!¡±

    ¡°Please calm yourself, Kira.¡± said Aldwyn. ¡°Magik is neither evil nor beneficent - only the intentions of those who wield it contain those values. And, as much as you do not wish it to be so, it does indeed seem that the time of the Second Sorrow, predicted by Father Martin, has now fallen upon us. That is why I required the Quillon - in the hope that the predictions of the scrolls can be averted, and we can all still be saved.¡±

    ¡°So what will you do?¡± Kira asked. ¡°I mean, what must I do? How do I stop this? Say that you¡¯ll help me, Aldwyn - promise that you will! Don¡¯t let me be a witch!¡±

    His buoyant legs seemed to stand.

    He did not want to obey, but he knew the pain of the ringing whispering voice would not cease.

    He wed at his ears.

    It was useless to resist.

    The voice was part of him now, eternally, remorselessly.

    <i>¡°See how he watches her? See the lies he tells?¡±</i>

    ¡°The shadow eclipse of the Long Moon will ur in four days - it is an auspicious time, when my abilities will be at their zenith. We must get to the Sacred Grove and there I hope to be able to focus my powers enough to purify you of the magik that could otherwise destroy our world.¡±

    ¡°And are you sure you can do that? Promise me I won¡¯t be a witch!¡±

    ¡°The scrolls in the Library tell of a ceremony which might be able to cleanse you - or possibly cleanse the world <i>of</i> you - it is not exactly clear which.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean: ¡®cleanse the world of me¡¯?¡±

    ¡°I mean that there is a chance that you will not survive the ritual - I can offer no guarantees - but for the sake of the world, we must at least try - and we must try before youe into your full powers, for by that point, even my magik, assisted by the power of the Quillon and the harmonies of the Grove, will not be sufficient to protect the world from whatever it is that you will unleash upon us, however unintentionally.¡±

    <i>¡°Now! Do it now, Ellis! This is your chance! Save the girl, Ellis! Only you can help her!¡±</i>

    His vision danced and dimmed; the room swam and twisted its focus.

    The only clear and bright thing he could see was the sound of the voice, ringing raw, intense through his tortured head.

    A man¡¯s sharp, howling cry woke him.

    Kira screamed; her shocked eyes bulged up at him; white, appalled.

    A cold, shining smoothness burned in his palm.

    His vision strayed down to his trembling fingers; the Quillon gleamed in the unforgiving candlelight, lodged in a gaping wound through Aldwyn¡¯s back.

    He jerked his terrified hand away as the bright burning embers raged and swirled out from the fatalceration; the charred ashes spread and devoured the distraught frame of his crumbling master.

    Aldwyn¡¯s decaying head turned sharply to face him.

    His eyes pleaded with questions his mouth could no longer speak.

    The life in them dimmed and fled.

    The Quillon rattled to the floor amidst a smouldering pile of ashes and memories.

 71. The Discovery of Murder

    The shock of her scream still vibrated in Kira¡¯s mouth.

    Her stunned eyes refused to see what they had seen.

    The reeking air filled with smoke and debris; the glowing embers sparked upwards, then fell back and died into the ckened pile of ash on the guilty chair in front of her.

    Behind it, the slow beads of sweat shivered down Ellis¡¯s pallid brow; his trembling hands tried to cover his vacant eyes.

    A sharp scuffling of feet in the corridor jolted her frozen thoughts. The grey hair of the Librarian bobbed into the room; she looked distractedly down at the parchment in her hands.

    ¡°Talmadge, I¡¯ve found that scroll you were searching for,¡± she said absently. ¡°I brought it straight to your room when I heard you had returned, as it seemed urgent¡­.¡±

    Her voice ran dry. Her mouth sagged open. The scroll rattled down from her quaking clutch, just as the final charred fragments gave up the weight of the Quillon and it ttered onto the unfeeling floor.

    ¡°What¡­ what have you done?¡± the Librarian¡¯s words stumbled from her gaping mouth.

    Kira¡¯s mind reeled to fill the burden of the cmitous, stunned pause.

    The cold, uncertain silence copsed into an agonising lifetime.

    ¡°Quick! Run!¡± Ellis shouted; the whites of his eyes still betrayed their disbelief and panic.

    He grabbed her arm; her legs lurched up from the horrified rug and stumbled beneath her in his wake, past the petrified Librarian into the chilly draughts of the evening corridor.

    Their heavy, running strides echoed along the unforgiving torch-lit passageways; every stone sat in judgement against them and their terrible crimes.

    The constant frenzied tug of Ellis on her arm gave momentum to her dazed legs; her thoughts staggered and whirled beneath the revtions of her past and her present.

    Could she really be a witch?

    Those terrible creatures that killed the other novicee?

    But didn¡¯t they almost kill her too?

    Was it really her legs that moved so urgently beneath her?

    Their movement seemed strange and disconnected.

    From behind, a distant world away, the using cries of the Librarian chased them through the cloisters:

    ¡°Murder! Murder! Stop them!¡±

    Her greying age proved no impairment to the volume of her enraged voice.

    But above the confused pounding echoes of the corridor, the remote sound of her own panting breath smothered and engulfed her stunned perceptions.

    The slow, blurred images of bright tapestries shed by her widened eyes; the jolting strides of the floor lunged up at someone else¡¯s feet while she floated serenely, untroubled above them.

    How pleasant life would be lived like this - through someone else¡¯s body - from behind their unusual eyes.

    How pleasant and how strange.

    The familiar incense which drifted through the ancient corridors sweetened someone else¡¯s nose.

    The shivering chill of the autumn draughts shocked the goosebumps onto someone else¡¯s skin.

    But what about Aldwyn?

    Should they really just leave him there?

    What would happen to him?

    Where had he gone?

    And what could she do to help him now?

    Or perhaps nothing had happened at all - she would soon wake up from the darkness of this dream?

    Running.

    That seemed a pleasant idea.

    To run away from her past and her problems and her pain; to escape it all and live happily with Ellis, far from the world.

    Surely they would escape?

    And she had done nothing wrong.

    She was not a witch.

    She was definitely not a witch.

    Wouldn¡¯t she have noticed by now?

    The bold, dark outlines of the imposing South Door loomed ahead.

    Its hefty wooden bulk was unexpected.

    How had they got there so quickly?

    How had they got there so slowly?

    Why had it taken so long?

    Without even running?

    Ellis¡¯s hand stretched out in front of them and reached for the handle. It touched the dense wrought iron, and the heavy ck stud-work which barred their way. His trembling, fragile skin pale against the gloomy oak of the door.

    Surely they were free?

    A huge expanse of possibility opened out before her - the chance to escape everything she had just heard and learnt; to run forever and not be caught; to be free of responsibility and guilt.

    His fingers brushed the cold ironwork; pressing; reaching; stretching; pleading with the door to open.

    A heavy sideways thud knocked her to the ground; the breath bashed unexpectedly from her lungs and spilled out onto the hard reality of the stone floor. The unexpected weight of bodies and Ellis on top of her shook her scrambled senses. Legs and arms tangled helplessly with hers. Somewhere Ellis was shouting, but the confused echoes of his distant voice made it difficult to distinguish any of his words.

    The burly guards wrestled and secured her in ce. The smell of their strength; the staleness of their odour; the anger in their breath.

    The chance of escape diminished and disappeared from her grasp; her freedom vanished into nothingness with the bulk of every guard who piled in on top and pinned down her dreams to the harsh, smooth floor with a resounding thud.Copyright N?v/el/Dra/ma.Org.

    Their voices slurred above her.

    But it was pleasant to rest there, her arms spread-eagled; the callous stone floor was soft and warm.

    How nice it was just to rx, not needing to move, or think, or run.

    But just to float beneath a nket of warmth - a nket that pressed down and stopped her from floating off, up into the vast sky beneath the Cathedral¡¯s ceilings.

    Her breath slowed; her eyes traced a slow path along the length of her arm, up near her wrist. A small speckle of ash nestled there, grey against the sleeve of her tunic; crisp and clear through the disorientated background. Its edges curled upwards slightly, but remained sharp and loud in their focus and intent; a tender, delicate ke that clung to her softly and refused to ever abandon her - a small ke of ash that had once been Aldwyn.

 72. The Rumours of Justice

    Father Steadman pushed his way through the murmuring crowd of priests to his presiding raised seat at the front of the Grand Arbitration Hall.

    The whispering snatches of gossip swirled and eddied around him.

    ¡°I heard there¡¯s been some sort of attack here in the Cathedral!¡±

    ¡°Impossible!¡±

    ¡°I heard it too - murdered by witches!¡±

    ¡°What! Are none of us safe?!¡±

    ¡°But the Patrex wouldn¡¯t have called a session of the Court at such ate hour for that.¡±

    ¡°I heard screaming in the corridors near the South Door - I knew something evil must have urred.¡±

    The busy grumblings of the room diminished to a strained silence as he stepped up to the tform and lowered himself into therge canopied chair.

    He never enjoyed the sparse formality of the room - the nk walls stripped back to their barest truths - except for the stark imposing symbols of the Church, high above the judge¡¯s chair. The atmosphere reminded him too much of the officious nature of his job - and the unhappy truth that he was older now, and more used to fighting with words and scrolls than with the honest grip of a sword hilt in his palm.

    And these words and scrolls could be such tricky, squirming, distrustful things.

    A crowd of expectant faces gazed up at him from the expanse of wooden benches - some anxious to learn what had brought them all there at such ate hour: others, obviously more concerned that the Arbitration had interfered with their ss of evening wine.

    ¡°Please be seated, gentlemen,¡± he said.

    A surge of feet shuffled on the floor and the aged benchesined beneath their clerical burden.

    ¡°Bring the prisoners forth.¡±

    Four uniformed guards marched two bound youngsters into the Hall. From their diminutive size, the prisoners were clearly Talmadge¡¯s acolytes - and he had been right - one of them was indeed a votaress.

    But the acuteness of his initial assessment did not bring with it the usual ripple of satisfaction.

    A girl?

    Here within the vallum and sacred boundaries of the Cathedral chambers?

    But Talmadge knew the Code of Precepts?

    True, he was a little entric - strange even - but he was no fool.

    Why would he have risked bringing a girl with him here?

    This did not bode well.

    A turbulent murmur prickled through the room and grew steadily louder as the boy and girl were led towards the front of the Hall.

    The guards shoved the pale youngsters forcefully into position - before the steps of his chair - but the girl, in particr, was of so slight of build, there could be no possible need for such rough treatment.

    The two acolytes shivered; they were unkempt and dishevelled from their obvious struggles with the guards.

    His keen eyes followed them intently, but they hardly dared to return his gaze, or look up at any of the other faces which crowded in around them.

    Perhaps this showed an understandable nervousness or shyness?

    Or perhaps it indicated a sense of guilt?

    He pursed his dry lips.

    The smooth, telling weight of the gavel filled his hand - itcked the meaty heft of a weapon - but his role now was not one ofbat - he banged it with a calm satisfaction and requested silence.

    ¡°Reverend gentleman,¡± he said, into the solemn, respectful hush, ¡°I have called you all here, at such an unusual hour, because I have some terrible news.¡±

    He paused to ensure that the assembled priests had the opportunity to digest the seriousness of the situation.

    ¡°Just moments ago, it appears that Talmadge was killed - here, in his old chambers, on the South Corridor.¡±

    His audience rumbled out a disconcerted mutter which echoed around the chamber.

    ¡°Many of you know by now that he had recently returned to our fold, and had been once again working for the benefit of our beloved Church. However, I have called you all here to witness the testimony of his two acolytes, who are used of his murder.¡±

    The tide of eyes turned away from him and swept their focus towards the youngsters.

    ¡°What is your response to this usation?¡±

    The pallid-looking boy turned and addressed the room. His quavering voice struggled to push his words out.

    ¡°Yes¡­ yes, it¡¯s true. I did¡­ I did kill him¡­ somehow.¡±

    The boy was clearly confused and frightened - not the usual qualities of an assassin.

    And why would Talmadge have taken him on as a votary if he was at all dangerous?

    He had trusted the boy enough to take him on his mission to the Reevers.

    Perhaps something there had affected him?T¨ºxt ? N?velDrama.Org.

    Something which had caused the boy to snap?

    He had seen it many times, in the cold heat of battle - even the most hardened of soldiers could relinquish their senses, their nerves frayed at the edges.

    It had been a sad oue to the operation - Beris was a very capable captain - there were not too many like him left - and the other two were both seasoned, reliable fighters - they could ill-afford to lose such valuable troops - especially now.

    ¡°But I had to,¡± the boy continued, ¡°Aldwyn had gone mad. He was going to kill Kira. I had no choice.¡±

    A low, uneasy buzz filtered through the assembled ranks.

    ¡°And Kira had nothing to do with it. She didn¡¯t know anything about it. It was all me. She is innocent in all this.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid you¡¯ll have to exin things a bit more thoroughly than that,¡± Steadman said.

    ¡°But he was mad,¡± the boy protested. ¡°Aldwyn was mad. The star-taint had descended upon him. You must have seen it - the erratic ways he had been behavingtely - he was transfixed with the idea of the Quillon and what it could do. He was going to kill her.¡±

    The words rang partly true in Steadman¡¯s ears.

    But the boy seemed to blush and fluster slightly at the mention of the Quillon.

    Perhaps there was more to this, more than the boy was telling?

    To his left, Caldor stood.

    Steadman took care topose his outward features.

    An uneasy anguish flickered across his shoulders - but Caldor¡¯s position as second in the Pleiad did give him the right to speak.

    ¡°Most reverend gentlemen,¡± the ck-robed priest began, ¡°there is undoubtedly much substance to what the boy has said - many of us have long suspected Talmadge of duplicity - which of us knows what he was truly capable of? Look at what he did to our beloved former Patrex.¡±

    A troubled murmur ruffled through the benches.

    ¡°And further,¡± Caldor continued, ¡°I have it on good authority that this magikal relic - this Quillon - could not even be used for the protective spell that we of the glorious Church have deemed necessary. Perhaps Talmadge required it for rather more sinister purposes - perhaps even, as the boy had suggested, he intended to use it in some sort of dark ritual on the girl.¡±

    Apprehensive waves of discontent spread and echoed amongst the clerics.

    ¡°We must even consider that he intended to use it for his own selfish ends, in order to finish what he had started all those years ago - hisplete usurpation of our beloved Church.¡±

    Steadman gripped the gavel tighter.

    No doubt Caldor was enjoying the sound of his own sermon - but where was all of this leading?

    Perhaps he should intervene before a general tumult erupted?

    But clearly, the ck-robed one was not intent on stopping just yet.

    ¡°<i>This</i> gentlemen,¡± Caldor proimed, ¡°<i>this</i> was the real reason for his return here all these yearster - he had grown a sour and bitter man and had spent all those years away from us busily plotting his devious revenge - a revenge on all those of us who had the rity to see through his scheme the first time he was in our midst.¡±

    The taut murmurs grew louder; an elderly provost shouted his agreement above the general unrest.

    ¡°For, by breaking the Truce, his actions are certain to anger the Reevers. It seems that he was not simply content with the threat to us from the witches, but also intended to bring down an even stronger enemy upon us in order to ensure ourplete and utter destruction.¡±

    The mour grew; heads nodded; fingers jabbed and pointed their usations.

    ¡°And can we truly believe that the girl is innocent in all this? A girl who has openly defiled the sanctity of our most revered chambers? A girl who has lived within the sacred protection of our own vallum? You are all well aware that, of those permitted within our boundaries, only our respected Librarian can be a female - and even this is only through necessity - because of the powerful corrupting nature of some of the documents held in our precious store of knowledge, only a female, who of course, cannot wield the magik, can be trusted to maintain them. Talmadge knew all of this - yet he still chose to vite our Church with her presence. And what would the boy not say in order to save the soul of his sweetheart? Why would we believe the words of one who has just confessed to us that he is a murderer? How can we now trust anything he says?¡±

    The assembled priests shook their heads; some stood and openly shouted their anger; their arms waved and called for punishment.

    ¡°We must proceed with great caution,¡± Caldor continued, ¡°and treat them both as guilty, to make certain we do not release an assassin into our midst who would murder us all in our beds as we sleep tonight.¡±

    The infuriated crowd stood to protest; to implore their own safety; to condemn the obviously guilty - why did they need a trial to offer justice to such wanton criminals?

    Steadman shed the gavel down on the table beside him.

    He could not allow this unruly and dangerous behaviour to continue.

    No doubt Caldor was a worthy orator - but some sort of justice must be adhered to - he could not be permitted to talk up a furious mob of vigntes.

    The sharp piercing rhythm of the mallet cut through and halted the rumbling discontent.

    Talmadge was dead, it was true - and his murderers, if that¡¯s what they were - deserved to be punished - but the least he could do was offer them some sort of fair hearing, to try to uphold thews and values of the Church he had been elected to represent.

    ¡°Gentlemen!¡± he called. ¡°There will be no murder trial tonight! Not in this heated, fractious atmosphere. We must not let our emotions get the better of us in such important matters. This is not the way of our Precepts. We will retire for the night and give ourselves time to consider more carefully what we have just heard. We will resume in the morning with a formal trial - and if the acolytes are found guilty, they will pay for their crime with their lives.¡±

 73. A Private Conversation

    Caldor¡¯s thoughts ruffled and brooded - he was not ustomed to receiving guests into his apartments sote in the evening - and never in all his years at the Cathedral had the Librarian asked for admittance to his private study.

    Perhaps the recent shocking events had disturbed her in some manner?

    She was, after all, merely a woman.

    There really was no way of telling how a murder, so close to her own living quarters, might have affected her mind.

    He thumbed the pages of his leather-bound book.

    He did have some very important research to do - but the Librarian was usually a sober and level-headed woman - and clearly it must be an urgent matter if she had chosen to disturb him at such a time.

    He ced a marker in the tome and sped the book to him as he sat back into the depths of his soft chair; thefortable furnishings of the room embraced him, as was only fitting for one of his high rank.

    He studied the Librarian carefully as she entered and stood before his desk.

    Her grey shoulder-length hair was undisturbed; the wrinkles around her face betrayed no obvious signs of hysteria.

    Her silver key-ne glinted in themp-light.

    ¡°Thank you for seeing me sote in the day, my reverend lord,¡± she said, ¡°but I bring news of a most troubling matter, and one which I felt would best be discussed in the privacy of your chambers.¡±

    More news?

    On an evening already so full of bustling events?

    His interest flickered and kindled.

    ¡°Please continue, my child,¡± he said.

    ¡°As you may know, it was I who discovered the murder of Talmadge earlier this evening - he had requested some rather obscure scrolls from the Library - I had juste upon them, and was taking them to his room personally, as they seemed so urgent. As I approached, I couldn¡¯t help but overhear raised voices inside¡­¡±

    Had the woman simplye to inform him of some gossip and hearsay?

    Surely she realised he had far more important business to attend?

    ¡°...it seems that Talmadge had discovered that the girl who was with him is a witch of some sort - and he intended to use the Quillon to kill her.¡±

    Caldor sat forward.

    ¡°A witch, you say? Here in the very heart of the Church? Impossible! How could such a creature ever get through the Vallum? No, it cannot be - you have either misheard, or as the boy said in the Chamber of Arbitration, Talmadge had gone mad with the star-taint.¡±

    ¡°I agree, my lord, it does seem unlikely - but Talmadge was a very powerful magikant - perhaps he had somehow found a way to smuggle her in past the protective, shielding properties of the Vallum?¡±

    There was no denying the abilities of Talmadge - however untrustworthy his motives.

    Caldor¡¯s fingers smoothed across the skin of his book.

    He was busy, and he felt the pull of his studies again.T¨ºxt ? N?velDrama.Org.

    Besides, what could he do about such things now?

    ¡°Well, the depravity of Talmadge in bringing such a viper into our nest is truly shocking - but it is of little matter now - the girl, or witch, is undoubtedly guilty of murder - she will be sentenced to death at the trial tomorrow - I will use all my influence to make sure of it - and that will be the end of the issue.¡±

    His fingers searched for the marked page; he looked down at the book; but the Librarian did not retreat from his room.

    ¡°Perhaps, my lord, but as we heard earlier, the boy ims that the girl is innocent - we cannot be certain which way the trial may go¡­¡±

    It was possible she could be right.

    There was just no knowing what that sentimental fool Steadman might be thinking - what ways he could dream up to bungle the trial, or fly in the face of the sacred, venerated culture and traditions of the Church.

    ¡°... and in any case,¡± the Librarian continued, ¡°Talmadge seemed to believe that she was such a powerful being that only the Quillon would seed in ending her life. I¡¯m concerned that the execution will have no effect on her - it may simply make her angry and perhaps even more dangerous than before. Talmadge seemed to believe that the girl might even be connected to the recent witch attacks in some way, and could pose a threat to the entire Church, and us all, if she is not stopped.¡±

    Caldor closed his book and looked up again.

    ¡°You truly believe that one witch could be so powerful?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Well, as you may recall, Talmadge had been given permission to research in all sections of the Library - even the section on Presage - his theory would certainly seem to resonate with the scrolls he had been studying.¡±

    Yes - Steadman had insisted on giving the old magikant full ess to the Library.

    Perhaps Steadman himself was even involved in some way?

    He was known to always favour Talmadge - even after the assassination of the old Patrex.

    And there were always those persistent rumours that Steadman and Talmadge had arranged things together to help Steadman usurp the leadership of the Church.

    Did Steadman know about this witch?

    Had he be corrupted by Talmadge¡¯s influence?

    He did seem keen to halt the trial earlier.

    Perhaps this was the true price of his election as Patrex?

    An election which many believed, he, Caldor, deserved to have won.

    Caldor sat forward and put his book of Oecumenical Law down on the desk.

    ¡°Then, if this witch is truly as dangerous as you suspect - if there is even a small chance that she is behind the recent desecrations of our glorious Church and our congregations - then we have a clear duty to the Church to act. Could we not use the Quillon to stop this creature ourselves? Where is it now?¡±

    ¡°I have it here, safe in my pocket,¡± the Librarian tapped her jacket side. ¡°Luckily, despite the shock of such an awful scene, I had the sense to pick it up - it would not do to leave such a powerful artefact lying around for anyone to find - there¡¯s no knowing what chaos it could have caused.¡±

    He should not have doubted her earlier - the Librarian was undoubtedly a worthy and capable woman.

    ¡°And do you know how to use it against this foul creature?¡± he asked.

    ¡°I did briefly peruse some of the scrolls myself, my lord - they mention that only a magikant could wield the Quillon against the witch sessfully - and of course, with the death of the Harmonist and now Talmadge, we no longer have ess to a person of such power.¡±

    Caldor smoothed his hand across his chin. His eyes shed briefly about the room.

    ¡°A magikant you say? It is possible I might know of a suitable candidate,¡± he said.

    ¡°And the ritual to kill the witch must be amplified by a portal of some sort,¡± the Librarian concluded.

    A disruptive surge of disappointment rippled across his shoulders.

    This was mosttlesome.

    ¡°But the Sacred Grove is too far to travel,¡± he said, ¡°these dreadful witch attacks mean it is not safe to journey so far abroad. The only true safety is here, beneath the shielding sanctuary of the Vallum - although now I learn that even this is no longer the case.¡±

    ¡°Oh, but there is somewhere much closer, most gracious lord,¡± the Librarian suggested, ¡°the old graveyard across the pper bridge, beyond the South Door. The ancient scrolls tell that it was once a very powerful ce of magik, the equal of the Sacred Grove - that indeed is why the Cathedral itself was originally built here - but when the Grove was discovered, the portal gradually fell out of favour and came to be used as a burial site for the Harmonists because it was believed that their magik would be reabsorbed back into the hallowed ground and lend extra power to future users; and when even these old ways became lost, it was used as a resting ce for the Patrex and other members of the Pleiad.¡±

    ¡°I see, most interesting,¡± Caldor said. ¡°I had often considered it odd that the bridge had been built without any water - I assumed that perhaps there had once been a stream there which had be diverted some years ago.¡±

    ¡°No, my lord, the bridge was always built over drynd - it spans the henge ditch which separates the portal from the ordinary soil - and now separates the living from the dead.¡±

    Caldor rubbed his palm across his chin again and stood.

    ¡°Then we must act - the fate of our most glorious Church may depend on it. We wouldn¡¯t need to venture too far - the Vallum ends just at the foot of the bridge - the execution would be over and done before anyone realised the prisoners were even missing.¡±

    ¡°The prisoners, my lord? You suspect the boy as well?¡±

    ¡°He is a magikant - and he was under the tutge of Talmadge - no doubt he too has been corrupted by impure machinations. It would be expedient to end this all now, and extinguish any possible aplices, rather than risk the continued threat of such a conspiracy of dark necromancy to our Mother Church. And let us not forget that the boy himself has already confessed to murder - there can be no doubt as to his most fitting punishment.¡±

    ¡°A wise step, my lord.¡±

    ¡°And, am I right in thinking that as the Librarian, you are also the keeper of the Church¡¯s official chronicles? Perhaps it would be seemly for you to attend in person, in order to witness these momentous events for yourself, so that your written ount, which will live for all posterity, may be all the more urate.¡±

    ¡°I am honoured, my lord - and of course, I will be certain to give proper credit to those who are deserving. Do you think we should alert the Patrex to this development? I did think of going directly to him, but he seems so busy and tired these days, I did not wish to burden him further.¡±

    A sharp chill drained through Caldor¡¯s body.

    They could not risk alerting Steadman to the execution - if he was in on Talmadge¡¯s n, he would try to stop them somehow.

    And even if he was ignorant of the witch¡¯s presence, Steadmancked the rity of vision to see what must be done to protect the Church and its values; he did not possess the bold foresight, the knowledge and respect of the rightful traditions, to rid thend of this pestilence of witches and usher in a new era of glory for the Church.

    ¡°No, no,¡± he said, ¡°we need not trouble the Patrex with this matter - you have done the right thing in bringing it directly to my attention. I will act decisively to save our most glorious Church and bring an end to this devious witch.¡±

 74. The Soft Warmth of a Prison Cell

    The hard, unfeeling stone of the cell floor slowly leached the heat from Kira¡¯s body; the sparse sprinkling of straw offered nofort or relief. The meagre glow of the corridor torch, through the high grille on the door, provided just enough light to feel miserable, but no more.

    She shivered as she cradled her knees - but at least the goosebumps which ran down her arms were tangible and real - the nightmare thoughts which reeled and shuddered through her, refused to settle or confirm whether they were imaginary or telling the truth.

    The nuns had often warned her about the dangers of her over-active imagination; perhaps this ugly, startling uncertainty was proof of their words?

    The thick basement walls concealed the sounds of the dark night; a whispering silence prowled through the cell, menacing and using her: even Ellis, huddled mutely in the stunned corner where the guards had dumped him, was unable to break the burden of her tormented thoughts. They tumbled over each other ceaselessly, desperate to escape, but the damp foisty smell that surrounded her held them captive as they fought against the confused, confined space.

    Perhaps this dismal room was all she deserved?

    Hadn¡¯t they murdered Aldwyn - her and Ellis?

    And then just ran away and left him there?

    Alone, in agony, bewildered.

    And could it be true?

    The things that Aldwyn had said about her?

    Could she be a witch?

    But how?

    Wouldn¡¯t she have known somehow?

    No!

    It was just too terrible to think of.

    But Harath had always mentioned the strength of her spirit.

    Perhaps this was what she meant?

    Perhaps that was why she had broken the Gift?

    She stared through the gloom at the hopeless, barren walls.

    Just a few short moments ago, they had all been together in the happy warmth of Aldwyn¡¯s chambers. She shuddered again; the disbelieving shock in his eyes haunted her memory; her repugnant nostrils still harboured the violent scent of his disintegrating corpse.

    She clutched at her tunic and pulled it tighter; she rubbed her trembling arms and knees - but the restorative flow of warming blood would not arrive at her dazed limbs.

    The friction of her movements seemed to shake Ellis from the spell of his own silent reverie. He rustled across the straw to her and wrapped his thick outer-tunic around her shoulders. The cosy weight of his supportive arm lingered; its sympathetic warmth seeped through to her numbed skin.

    Her anxious shoulders unwound slightly.

    At least she wasn¡¯t alone with her troubles.

    At least Ellis was still there with her.

    But wasn¡¯t he some sort of monster?

    How could he have done such a thing?

    And to his own mentor - almost a father to him?

    And yet, perhaps strangely, he did it for her!

    Hadn¡¯t Aldwyn said something about ¡®cleansing the world of her¡¯?

    The ufortable nervous prickle quivered down her back.

    The words did not sound hopeful.

    What if his spell had gone wrong?

    Perhaps Ellis had been concerned by them too?

    He had to act.

    To keep her safe - so that they could be together.

    Wasn¡¯t that what they both wanted?

    Wasn¡¯t that what she wanted?

    She nestled back into his chest.

    In the close, chilled darkness, the steady beat of his heart held a thrilling

    warmth - an illumination from within - far brighter and greater than the

    illustrations she had loved in the convent scrolls.

    She knew that she was not alone with her burden.

    His heartbeat shared all her troubles and worries and uncertainties.

    The bleak adrenaline of the night faded to a sad tiredness.

    Where would it all end?

    She wanted her eyes to close and allow her mind to drift towards sleep - but Aldwyn¡¯s horrified features red up before her again.

    His eyes - so wise and full of life and knowledge - had disappeared into a void, a desperate, shocked clinging to this world - a panic and confusion that had seemed tost forever.

    She had seen that look before - the terror of death - at the Sacred Grove.

    The priests, her ssmates, the awful ringing tumult of it all.

    How could she ever forget it?

    Or Aldwyn?

    Or even begin to forgive the boy who caused it - the boy whose warmth and kindness now felt soforting to her?

    But then, hadn¡¯t his features copsed into shock too?

    A painful, appalled grimace had also seared across his face.

    That was not the look of a callous murderer - he was just as stunned as she and Aldwyn had been.

    And wasn¡¯t she also responsible, in some way, for Aldwyn¡¯s terrible tragic death?

    Hadn¡¯t Ellis done it for <i>her</i>, to protect <i>her,</i> to save <i>her</i>?

    The swirling confusion of thoughts rushed around and fragmented in contradictory, discordant directions.

    Why did life outside the Convent wall have to be soplicated, so messy?

    And what was she to make of this witch business and the Auguries?

    Could it possibly be true?

    Could she really be such a terrible threat to the world?

    How could her mother be a witch?

    Surely she would have known or felt something about it before now?

    Or was it, as Aldwyn had said, that she needed time to grow into her powers?

    Perhaps that shocking sensation she felt in the Reevers¡¯ tunnels was just the beginning?

    Would it get worse from now on?

    How much longer would she still be human?

    Would she turn into one of those hideous creatures who attacked her ssmates?

    Would she feel nothing for humans any more?

    Would she no longer care about who she hurt or destroyed?

    Would she forget everything - even about Ellis?

    The one person who would know, who she could really trust to give an honest answer, was gone.

    She had seen the terrible light depart from his eyes.

    And if he was right - if she was truly fated to somehow cast a great Sorrow over the world - then was she really any better than the boy who now shivered on the floor beside her?

    Why couldn¡¯t things just go back to how they were earlier in the evening?

    Then this dark season of pain and doubt would end - would never have even begun.

    Why had the Surrounder chosen such a difficult path for her to follow?

    Was she truly so wicked?

    Did she deserve the burden of this awful knowledge?

    Perhaps if she¡¯d only been better in ss and worked harder to please the nuns?

    Or if she¡¯d done more to make the other girls like her and be more popr, then none of this would have happened?

    But it was toote now, far toote for such innocence or happiness.

    It was all her fault.

    But how had ite to this?

    She would give anything just to go back to how it was.

    Perhaps after all, she deserved to be punished?

    Perhaps she deserved to die?

    When would this pain and confusion go away and leave her in peace?

    ¡°Do you think what Aldwyn said about me was true?¡± she said into the troubled dimness of the cell.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Ellis replied quietly. ¡°In truth, I don¡¯t really remember much about what Aldwyn said - his room all seemed so strange, so unreal.¡±

    He shuffled his position.

    ¡°My mind won¡¯t let me focus on what happened. I don¡¯t want to remember. I mean, I want to try and exin to you what happened, why I¡­, why it happened, but I¡¯m not sure if I can, and¡­ I¡¯m worried about what you might think of me, if I do tell you.¡±

    Kira stared at the bleak, barren darkness of the cell.

    A strange, confusing sensation, almost like guilt or happiness, stole across her.

    No-one had ever been afraid of her, or her opinion, before.

    ¡°Well, we only have each other now,¡± she said slowly, ¡°we need to bepletely honest - I¡¯d like to know - I¡¯d like you to tell me everything - and perhaps it might even help to talk about it?¡±

    Ellis shifted ufortably behind her again.

    ¡°Please don¡¯t think badly of me, or think I¡¯m crazy or something, but at times, ever since we got the Quillon, even back in the Reevers¡¯ chamber, I could hear ¡­ a voice, and¡­ I don¡¯t know, but it¡¯s as if the Quillon was talking to me, talking inside my head - I could hear its thoughts, and it could hear mine. I was worried it might be star-taint, but then it seemed to control me somehow¡­ I know it sounds strange, but you must believe me ¡­please¡­ I would never¡­ Aldwyn ¡­ I never meant to¡­ Does that make any sense?¡±

    ¡°Does <i>any</i> of this make sense anymore? How can it be that I¡¯m some sort of witch - one of those horrid creatures who killed my ssmates? And then the Auguries? I¡¯m not an Augury! I don¡¯t want to be an Augury. I don¡¯t want to hurt anyone - I don¡¯t even think I could ever do that.¡±

    The echo of her angry words faded in the thick, dark corners of the cell. The sure, ardent blood within her began to subside; the vague doubts forced their way to the surface of her thoughts.

    ¡°But Aldwyn seemed so sure, so certain,¡± she continued, ¡°he wouldn¡¯t lie to us - he wouldn¡¯t say those things if he didn¡¯t think it was all true.¡±

    She rubbed her weary arms as the chilled fingers of Autumn clung tighter to them.All content ? N/.?vel/Dr/ama.Org.

    ¡°And it¡¯s just not how I thought it would all be - I mean outside of the convent - I mean, I know I¡¯m not pretty or clever like the other girls, but...¡±

    ¡°Then you don¡¯t really know yourself at all,¡± said Ellis softly.

    Kira sat up and scrutinized his face in the dim light.

    Probably he was just teasing her.

    It was some sort of joke.

    How could he really think that she was pretty or clever?

    Not like Hettie, or Meg.

    But even the vague light of the cell, and the dark peril of their situation, could not disguise the truthful, unconditional blue of his eyes. Her mind rushed and filled with the images of the first time she had noticed them - really truly noticed them - dangling over the edge of the mountain path, the snowden wind whistled through the terrifying distance below, while the angry wolves snarled and snapped around them.

    His eyes gazed steadily back at hers, through the disconste cheerlessness of the bleak cell; her face hovered close to his, just a breath away; the noise of the empty room fell away into the distance, hushed and crystallised; she focused on his earnest eyes and the warmth of his kind face.

    She was certain, more certain than she had ever been, that she would find a calmness, a lifetime, a home there.

    If she just leant forward slightly, then contact could not have been avoided.

    Adrenaline prickled through her expectant body; her lips trembled in delicate anticipation of their closeness to his and the promises that were held there.

    Behind her, the cell door nged open abruptly and a brazen shaft of light from the corridor intruded rudely into their solitude.

    Kira¡¯s mind scrambled and searched for answers; she recoiled sharply from Ellis and turned to blink into the intensity of the illuminated doorway, where several silhouetted figures rushed in towards her.

 75. Taken in the Night

    An inescapable weight of rough hands wrestled Kira down onto the cold of the cell floor; her arms and elbows cried out in sharp pain as they were wrenched and pinned behind her back. Shock, tiredness and the miserablete autumn chill had drained the fight from her body; her mind scrambled in a dense fury of fear and confusion.

    What did these people want with her?

    Were they going to hurt her?

    Were they here to kill her?

    Who were they?

    Had the morning flown in so quickly?

    Was it already time for the trial?

    Was Ellis hurt too?

    The pressure of an ugly knee held her head firmly in ce and prevented her from seeing the faces of her assants; her wrists burned and chafed against the heavy rope that bonded and bit into them.

    The abrupt sounds of Ellis struggling echoed through the unyielding room; the resounding thud of several harsh blows quickly silenced the scuffling disturbance.

    ¡°Make sure those ropes are tight,¡± a voice ordered from the corridor.

    She recognised its dark baritone - it was the priest who had been so eager to condemn her in the courtroom - the priest who wore the stark ck robes with the crimson trim.

    The hefty knee released her head. She turned and blinked into the piercing focus of the doorway. A dark silhouette loomed bluntly against the brightmps outside.

    Dense shadows obscured his face, but the priest seemed to be staring directly, intently at her.

    Yes, it was definitely him.

    The one that she had heard the others call ¡®Caldor¡¯.

    Had hee to finish his work?

    To execute her and Ellis now - silently, without fuss, in the dead of the night, when no-one could prevent him?

    It made sense. Why would he risk them both being reprieved in a fair trial tomorrow morning?

    He took a few bold steps into the cell and red down at her. Even through the grim chill, his fervent disdain prickled across her nervous skin.

    Two guards hauled her to her feet and dragged her towards the door.

    Was this it?

    Was this how they were going to dispose of her?

    Without even a word of condemnation?

    Or a faint chance of mercy?

    ¡°Wait! What are you doing?¡± she demanded through her fear. ¡°Where are you taking us?¡±

    The tight eyes of the dark priest glimmered at her through the raw gloom of the cell.

    ¡°This one seems a noisy little thing,¡± he said tautly. ¡°We¡¯d better gag them both, just to be safe.¡±

    ¡°But we were promised a trial tomorrow!¡± Kira tried to shout. A coarse, foul rag was stuffed into her mouth; its sour abrasive taste scratched down onto her tongue; a second binding quickly cut across her cheeks and the corners of her lips and pinched at her hair and neck in a painful knot.T¨ºxt ? N?velDrama.Org.

    She winced and tried to cough - but it was futile to fight against the strength of the acerbic cloth and the determination of her captors.

    A bleak fear fractured through her.

    An empty hollow corruption ate at her mind and the pit of her stomach.

    Surely it couldn¡¯t end like this?

    Wasn¡¯t her life - everything she had learned and touched in this world, all of her dreams for a future - worth more than this?

    An obscure, anonymous execution, with no-one or nothing tofort or speak to her but the concealed darkness of the night?

    She squirmed and wriggled - frantic against the cutting ropes - but the stout guards bundled her through the doorway, into the blinking brightness of the corridor, without trouble or remorse. Her numb legs dragged reluctantly, powerless to do anything butply with the forceful urging which hauled her along the muted night arteries of the Cathedral.

    Ellis¡¯s footsteps slumped and struggled behind her.

    She tried to turn and see if he was badly hurt, but the guards pressed her head unceasingly forward, forcing her to make do with the slow defeated sound of his feet as they scuffled on the stone floor - which was no reassurance at all.

    But they were alive.

    They were both still alive - for now, at least.

    Her dazed limbs were hastily pushed through a series of darkened passageways - the stark bare walls were unlit and unadorned, stripped of the sweetened smell of incense which flooded the joyful brightness of the central, well-used cloisters; their dingy footsteps were muffled by thebyrinthine night, where no sentries patrolled or prying eyes could see.

    But Caldor must have lived and worked at the Cathedral for long enough to know all its winding secrets by now.

    But wasn¡¯t the priest in ck still a man of Faith?

    Was this truly what the scrolls had taught him?

    That this underhand behaviour was the correct way for a Father of the Church to act?

    Her fatigued body trembled; shocked and weakened by the evening¡¯s events.

    Her miserable senses, too cold and frightened and confused to struggle or fight, or notice their surroundings.

    It was strange - her curiosity had yearned to explore the Cathedral when Aldwyn had forbidden her to leave his chambers. But now she was here, getting a personal guided tour through its shadowy under-belly, all she longed for was to be safely back, eating honey and toast, secure in his rooms, in front of the glowing warmth of his fire.

    Yes, poor Aldwyn!

    Probably this hurried execution was all she deserved.

    She was responsible for Aldwyn¡¯s death.

    And she was some sort of terrible witch.

    Of course, the priests were frightened of her and wanted her out of the way as soon as possible.

    She had seen it in the courtroom.

    The nuns had often said she woulde to a bad end - perhaps they knew their business?

    So was this it, then?

    Was this how it felt to be dead?

    To know your destiny was already ended?

    This was the solemn, lonely fate the Surrounder had chosen for her.

    Her careless feet stumbled and tripped with the pressing speed of the guards; their unfeeling strength held her upright as her legs crumpled - they did not falter in their pace.

    Her faint limbs regained their footing; her mind calmed and cleared. Even her anxious stomach seemed to ept its fate.

    It wasn¡¯t fair that they were being smuggled out like this - without some sort of trial, or a chance to exin their side of things - but what chance did Aldwyn have?

    Life beyond the convent walls was messy and unpredictable - but Aldwyn deserved justice - and she deserved an inglorious, worthless ending, in the silent dead of the night.

    Her head was thrust down sharply under a low archway. Her eyes strained and blinked as she emerged into a bright, sweet-smelling corridor, richly decorated with vivid tapestries and carvings. Her mind rippled and reminisced - it was the ce where she and Aldwyn and Ellis had all first entered the Cathedral, just by the Great Southern Door. It was the cold floor where she had been recaptured.

    The guards shoved her forward, towards the dark looming timbers of the imposing doorway. Several other people had already gathered there - some more guards, each carrying a ming torch; the grey-haired Librarian, her sliver pendant glinting and winking in the flickering light; next to her, a young man, whose exotic clothing betrayed that he was not of thesends, perhaps not even a Believer.

    The three waiting sentries acknowledged Caldor. They silently unlocked the Great Door and pushed with soundless strength. An icy draught of night-air crept in through the widening gap and stung Kira¡¯s nose. She shivered as the wooden barrier swung open on its ornate hinges and invited in the darkness of the unknown, unseeing night.

 76. Execution

    Kira shivered through the bitter night air which wrapped itself around her as she trudged across the wet grass. The unflinching guards bruised their fingers deep into her arms as they dragged her through the thick dew. It soaked into her miserable boots and stole the meagre heat from her wrinkled toes.

    A low mist clung to the shrubs and trees nearby, disguising the sharp outlines of the ornate formal gardens as they blurred and merged into the untamed wildness of the graveyard on the far side of the bridge.

    The flickering orange of the guards¡¯ torches around her made little impact on the dense, uncaring darkness of the bleak night.

    No doubt they had brought her to such an unkempt, isted ce so that she could be buried immediately after the execution, and forgotten forever - lost in the grasses and the moss, cloaked beneath the living soil.Material ? of N?velDrama.Org.

    Ellis lumbered along just behind. The sound of his footfall was close enough to offer a murmur of sce - but also etched prickles of taunting despair through her, with the sad knowledge that he too was about to share the same wretched ending as her.

    Her steps patted across the uneven cobbles of the arched bridge.

    Overhead, the careless drifting clouds threatened to obscure the vast ckness of the sky - even the Moon had chosen to forsake her and withdraw its purity andfort, hiding behind the vagrant misty pall.

    Only the asional tiny bright specks of light still peeked and glinted down through the shrouding gloom and offered the reassurance of their steadfast presence. A tender, quivering hope ran through her - perhaps the terrible crimes of their executions would not be performed while the inquisitive stars gazed down in witness for all eternity?

    The muffled, murmuring conversations of Caldor and the others blended with the tter of their boots as they crossed the bridge further back behind her.

    To her left, one of the guards stumbled and fell to the ground. His torch guttered briefly, then failed in the rough wet undergrowth.

    Her escorts did not waver in their pace; perhaps they had not even noticed this event, but pressed forward remorselessly to the ce of her execution.

    Her curious eyes peered out into the thick, midnight air. Agitated shadows sped and flittered in the swirling gloom and mist, low between the grave-markers around the outer edges of the site - toorge to be animals or owls hunting for a feast.

    A nervous stab of fear crawled through her stomach; anxious goosebumps vibrated along her arms.

    She had seen that rapid blur of swiftness before - during the fight in the intense heat of the Reevers¡¯ chamber.

    A sudden disturbance of the dark air rushed past behind her.

    The tight grip on her left arm fell loose. A slow hiss of bloodied breath escaped from the guard¡¯s neck as he copsed to the ground by her side.

    She tried to scream, but the constrictive cloth around her face muted her voice and prevented her horror from alerting the others.

    The clenched pressure on her right arm rxed as the guard stared at his fallenpanion.

    ¡°We are attacked!¡± he cried out as he let go of her and unsheathed his sword.

    A sharp series of yells pierced the hushed stillness of the night; several more guards shouted their final, painful breath and fell; she shuddered in the sudden, breathless silence; the loudest sound was the fear pounding through her own heart.

    Her second guard vanished into the looming shadows.

    She turned sharply and scanned for Ellis. The dark outlines of his escortsy motionless in the grass. She sprinted towards him, determined that he should escape the deadly menace which surrounded the group.

    Her legs jolted on the soft turf; the ropes burned tighter into her wrists; the gag dug deeper across her face and clogged her ragged breath.

    The fast flickering outline of a Reever loomed up behind Ellis. She tried to shout, but the cloth muzzle refused her screams.

    The shadowy arms of the Reever stretched out to epass and snatch Ellis.

    She sped full pelt at the Reever and barged her shoulder hard into him; they sprawled to the wet turf and propelled Ellis forward. The friction of the thudding tussle gripped at the cloth around her face - it nipped and pinched her hair and skin and worked loose down around her neck. The grateful blood returned to her numbed cheeks as she spat out the second rag.

    ¡°Run, Ellis!¡± she shouted.

    Ellis stumbled forward, but steadied himself and dashed back towards her. He stared hard at her over the top of his gag and turned his back to her. His tied wrists extended out, his fingers stretched to touch her, but she could not reach them - he could not help her up.

    ¡°Flee!¡± shouted Caldor from the arch of the bridge. ¡°We are betrayed! Get back across the bridge to the Vallum!¡±

    A guard dashed past; his torch red with his rushing speed. He locked a sturdy arm around Ellis.

    ¡°You¡¯reing with me, sonny!¡± he said as he dragged Ellis away from her, back towards the bridge.

    She fought to get up, desperate to stay close to Ellis.

    But at least he might be safe - if the guard could just get him back inside the Vallum, there might still be hope.

    The rope bit and cut at her wrists as she wrestled herself to her knees.

    If she could only get to her feet and run to the bridge with the others.

    Run and escape this deadly terror.

    Run and be safe with Ellis.

    She must get there.

    She must help him.

    Her legs strained and wobbled; she levered her tottering body to her feet. A sudden, chilling breeze whistled down the nape of her neck; a powerful grip grasped her arm from behind; a second rough hand sped tight across her mouth.

    The overpowering odour of the sulphur swamps assaulted her - the smell that had glued itself to her clothes when they took the Quillon and had only just begun to fade from their memory.

    The unseen Reever lifted her up; her feet dangled; useless; no longer in contact with the ground; her captor held her fast and turned back towards the dark shadows of the bridge and the Cathedral.

    Her thumping heart reeled; Ellis and the guard charged through the midnight undergrowth before her.

    If they could just get there.

    If Ellis could just be safe.

    There wasn¡¯t far to go.

    Now that they had her, perhaps they wouldn¡¯t bother with Ellis?

    A swift blur of shadow moved across them. The guard who was dragging Ellis clutched his throat and fell. The arms of the shadow opened and engulfed Ellis and lifted him clear of the ground.

    No!

    There was no need to take him!

    <i>She</i> was the witch!

    <i>She</i> was the cause of all the trouble!

    Surely now they had her, they could just let Ellis go?

    Kira wriggled and kicked; her weary muscles heaved and pushed; the strong arms still bound her, unrelenting. She bit down on the calloused fingers pressed around her mouth. The bitter taste of sulphur bled onto her tongue and her lips gasped free.

    ¡°No! Don¡¯t hurt him!¡± she shouted at the night. ¡°Let me go!¡±

    The stifled groan from her captor was quickly reced with a roughened hand mped hard across her throat, choking her words and breath.

    Her stomach sank in sickened despair - they had caught her, fighting against this strength was useless - and now they had Ellis too.

    Her frightened limbs stopped twisting and squirming - there was no point in straining against such brutal force - her body sagged from a crushingck of air. The hand on her throat squeezed tighter, then eased its pressure and allowed her burning lungs to work again.

    Several more guards perished as they ran back to the bridge, extinguished by the silent, blurred shadows.

    Caldor had already reached the safety of the far side - even in the dark of night, the deep sheen of his ck outline was still distinguishable.

    The young stranger had sprinted back too - closely followed by the Librarian, who moved with a surprising turn of speed for one of such elderly status.

    Her pounding footsteps rang out as she dashed over the peak of the bridge¡¯s arch; she stumbled and ttered to the stones; she tumbled and rolled back down the other side of the bridge towards the safety of the Cathedral and the Vallum.

    She knelt and felt about her cloak frantically, then stared back at the bridge.

    ¡°The Quillon!¡± she shouted, ¡°I¡¯ve dropped it!¡±

    She started to her feet, but Caldor grabbed her arm.

    ¡°No! It¡¯s toote!¡±

    One of the bold, shadowy figures walked calmly to the peak of the bridge.

    Kira recognised his outline - it was the Prince - the one who had fought with them in the heat and magma of the chamber.

    He bent down and picked something up from the cobbles of the bridge - something whose strange metal glinted and shone, lustrous even in the depths of the night.

    It could only be the Quillon.

    The Prince pressed it to his heart then secured it carefully in the pouch on his belt.

    The chilled air suddenly rushed and ruffled past Kira¡¯s face and hair; the Reever who held her moved swiftly to the bridge.

    ¡°My King,¡± her captor said, ¡°we have the Quillon and the prisoners - the ns will now rally behind you - let us leave now before their archers are alerted.¡±

    ¡°Did you see them run before us, Yulkvas?¡± the Prince replied. ¡°Soon all the humans will know this terror - we will sweep them from the face of this world.¡±

    ¡°But they were not warriors, majesty - they are merely priests and bookworms - soldiers are harder to kill - especially as we have now lost the element of surprise. Let us leave now before the sun god awakens to punish us.¡±

    The Prince turned and red down at Kira. Her skin prickled with horror and disgust.

    ¡°Yes,¡± he said, ¡°the witch who helped assassinate my father. Your death willst an eternity of pain. This world shall know what bes of those who kill a great king of the Nizul.¡±

    He sneered and stretched out a cruel hand towards her face.

    Kira fought and wriggled, desperate to pull her head away, to escape the evil of his touch; the hand around her throat tightened and sped her, helpless, in ce.

    Urgent, shuddering waves of resentment and fear convulsed within her.

    What dreadful torture would he carry out in revenge for his father¡¯s death?

    His hand moved closer, towards her startled eyes; the foul stench of the swamps overpowered her senses.

    She wanted to shout back her defiance at him, or plead for Ellis to be set free, but the strong arms restrained her anger and denied her a voice.

    The Prince¡¯s threatening fingers wormed closer.

    She wrestled a squirming leg free; she swung, determined to kick her assant.

    Her foot thrashed, but missed its swift target; the Prince jerked back, then glowered his dark anger down at her.

    He pulled back his fist and struck a bludgeoning blow.

    A dizzying pain shattered across her jaw and cheeks; her shocked eyes closed; her ears whistled and buzzed with ckness; her world fell away into a nk, hollow nothingness.

 77. Beneath the Trembling Trees

    The bickering squirrels ceased their constant chatter and crept away from the shallow forest depression. The silence clung to every branch and twig around them; only the restless worms, slowly digesting the soft leaf litter dared to rustle, deep beneath the emerald gloom and the verdant covering of moss.

    The timeless stones, who had been foolish enough to lie there, had long ago sumbed to the stillness and the creeping green mantle; the twisted, gnarled tree-roots shimmered in the damp musty soil; their entangled misty web of autumn-stripped branches held tightly to each other, thickly encrusted with shaggy, mottled lichens of grey and green and yellow. The dense thatch defied the searching wind, and held away the dancing sky, so that even the ever-watchful stars could scarcely fathom its murky depths.T¨ºxt ? N?velDrama.Org.

    A calm, thin voice hissed out through the writhing gloom.

    ¡°We cannot afford another such mistake, my sisters. Her time draws near. We must act soon.¡±

    A second gossamer breath escaped through the lure of the haunted bracken.

    ¡°Butst time, the humans had a magikant with them. His hatred ran deep. I can still feel his words burning into me,¡± itined.

    ¡°But we overcame him and his kind,¡± said a third.

    ¡°Yes,¡± another hollow whisper searched out a pathway through the thick, stubborn mosses, ¡°but the prize we sought eluded even us.¡±

    ¡°But this time her powers have awakened,¡± the first voice slithered and twisted again. ¡°We all felt it - she will be easier to find even among the human creatures - we will feel the pull of her blood to our own.¡±

    The shadowy circle of trees trembled a faint heartbeat of agreement.

    ¡°But we must make certain this time,¡± the voice warned, ¡°and once we have her, we all know what must be done.¡±

 78. A Destiny is Revealed

    Kira¡¯s jaw throbbed with an ache which splintered across her face. The metallic taste of her own blood filled the back of her throat. Her tongue probed the ragged inside of her cheek - shredded by the edges of her teeth. She tried to reach up and touch the tender wound, but her arms refused to move. She forced her dull eyes to open and tried to make sense of her dark, bleary surroundings.

    Her back was stretched - pressed t against a hard, wooden surface; her limbs and forehead were secured by the weight of rough chains. She tried to wriggle free, but the thick irons burned and bit into her skin the more she fought against their abrasive oppression.

    Her waking senses struggled to filter and focus properly. Through the dim gloom, a huge wall of rock towered sheer above her, then curved around to form a wide expanse of encircled space.

    A wandering midnight breeze whistled gently to itself as it caressed the top edges of the outcrop; and high above, a scattering of tiny white stars scrutinized her intently from within the vast ck sky.

    She must be outside somewhere, but she was not cold.

    A thick, choking warmth of sulphur cloaked itself around her.

    Her memories stabbed and prickled at the smell - the Reevers!

    And this must be the crater of their volcano.

    Yes, the Reevers.

    They had captured her.

    The frightened pieces of her memory shocked back into ce.

    Ellis!

    Was he safe?

    Was he here too?

    What had they done to him?

    An acid panic burned through her stomach.

    She tried to force her head up, desperate to look for signs of him, but the heavy chains clung to her andpelled her to remain t.

    She squirmed her head and eyes to the side and managed to peer down along the length of her body, past the bindings on her feet.

    Her shrill anxiety jabbed, then subsided, relieved.

    He was there - a little distance away, chained t and spread-eagled on a rough wooden bench of some sort, in a simr position to her.

    They were both on some sort of low stage or tform, raised at one end of the crater, surrounded by the rumbling orange glow ofva; a scattering of fires and ring torches dispersed across the rest of the hollow expanse, piercing into the dark and the sporadic, noxious billows of hot gas.

    Ellis was next to a table; a series of skulls and daggers glinted on it in the ming light.

    He wasn¡¯t moving.

    Was he alive?

    He didn¡¯t seem to be conscious.

    Her eyes strained through the dim night for signs; her keen ears felt for sounds of a breath - but the worry of her own heart was making too much noise and disturbance to hear clearly.

    But if they had let her live, then why kill him?

    Perhaps they had just punched him and knocked him out, like they had with her?

    And it wouldn¡¯t make sense to kill him back at the Cathedral, then bring his body all the way here.

    Perhaps they wanted to torture him first, for helping to kill the King?

    Perhaps they would torture them both?

    But that would mean he must still be alive.

    Her flurry of thoughts surged with an eagerness of hope.

    Her willing earsboured again for a breath or a clink of his chains.

    From behind, a sharp series of footsteps approached the tform; the crater below began to fill with the busy echoes of voices and boots.

    A queasy, thudding pulse flooded through her body.

    There was no time to check on Ellis.Material ? of N?velDrama.Org.

    They would not have to wait long for the pain, and torture, and death that was certain to follow.

    She clenched her nervous fingers tightly and braced herself.

    The chains held her fast - there was no hope, no chance of escape.

    There was nothing she could do to help Ellis.

    If only they would spare him somehow.

    She twisted her head, but before she could see who wasing, the Reever she recognised as the Prince strode past and stood at the edge of the tform.

    His clothing was different - it seemed more formal and elegant than before. Arge golden cor glinted around his neck in the low red light; its rich jewels shed with his every movement - it was the cor she remembered from the chamber with the Quillon - the cor of his father.

    Three more Reevers apanied him, each dressed in long, flowing robes. The outlines of their hands and faces seemed older, more wrinkled than the other Reevers she had encountered. They stood behind him as he spoke to therge crowd who had now gathered on the ground in the bowl-shaped arena below.

    ¡°My people, my beloved n of Za¡¯niz, some nights ago, our greatest and most worthy king, Xeruw, my father, was cruelly assassinated just a short distance from where we now stand. I have asked you all to assemble here tonight to bear witness to my eptance of the cor of Xal.¡±

    The crowd grunted and howled up their loud approval to him. Kira¡¯s skin bristled with frightened goosebumps at their baying, guttural roar.

    ¡°But this night not only gives you a new king - it will also usher in a new era of our destiny. We will take back control of the upper world, and rid it of the gue of humans - those who have dared to push us back into these swampnds, to reduce our once-glorious borders. We will show them that we are strong - that we are worthy and the true children of Hekubate - that our soul-lords are powerful - that we are the true rulers of this world.¡±

    The crowd gave out an angry, belligerent bellow in fierce unison; it reverberated around the high volcanic walls.

    Kira shuddered and fought to struggle free, but the defiant chains held her tightly.

    ¡°Our Great Lord, Hekubate, hasmanded it, and in his name, and for our eternal glory, shall this conquest of all thends take ce! Let it begin!¡±

    The crowd stamped and thundered their loyal support and shook at the darkness of the night.

    The three elderly Reevers moved past the tableden with skulls and surrounded Ellis. One stood over his chest and held the Quillon aloft; its acute metal gleamed and pulsed in the reflection of the glowingva. The three chanted in unison and swayed from side to side. The crowd in the crater added their voices, so that the whole arena resounded and writhed with a slow rhythmical incantation:

    ¡°Hek-u-ba-te! Hek-u-ba-te!¡±

    The elder lowered the Quillon to Ellis¡¯s chest.

    Kira¡¯s horrified mind raced - she remembered Aldwyn¡¯s shocked eyes and the terrible damage the Quillon had already brought.

    Surely if they cut Ellis with it, he would disintegrate and die too?

    She fought the stubborn chains, but they refused to let her go.

    The Reever in the robes raised and lowered the Quillon again.

    The beating chant of the crowd grew louder.

    The muggy sweat of the sulphur choked at her nostrils.

    She had to break free; she had to help Ellis; she had to stop them somehow.

    The Reever brought the knife down for a third time and shed across Ellis¡¯s chest.

    No!

    He mustn¡¯t die!

    Not like this!

    The chains rattled furiously around her but refused to break or move.

    Ellis cried out; his painful voice pierced through the low repetitive rumble of the crowd.

    Kira¡¯s stabbing, overwhelming dread bristled and puzzled.

    The Quillon hadn¡¯t killed him!?

    ¡°Ellis!¡± she shouted.

    ¡°Kira! Save yourself!¡± he yelled. ¡°Don¡¯t let the demon take your soul!¡±

    The chains around him jangled and shed; he kicked and wriggled.

    His dark blood oozed out from the pulsing wound across his chest and dripped slowly down from the bench into arge bowl on the tform beneath him.

    Perhaps the three Reevers in the robes were priests of some sort?

    Perhaps they had control over how the knife cut and who it killed?

    But now he would bleed to death!

    The faint and fatal ssh of his blood into the bowl stabbed at her tormented mind.

    She had to get free and save him.

    She wrestled ferociously, but the imcable chains held her cruelly in ce.

    Ellis¡¯s kicks and convulsive struggles grew weaker and less frequent; the constant ebb of his life grew fainter and dimmer; it flowed helplessly out of his body with every drip; his energy, his warmth, his friendship spilled out before the baying Reevers, who cheered and chanted through the rhythmic tumult of the ceremony, on the ground below.

    Her ears burned with frustrated anger; a dismal, impotent shame haunted her body; she was powerless to repay the trust and kindness of the friend who had helped her, who had risked so much for her.

    But wasn¡¯t she supposed to be some sort of witch?

    Couldn¡¯t she just st them all with a spell or something and save Ellis?

    Hadn¡¯t Aldwyn told her that she could destroy the whole world?

    If only she could focus and see past this scrambled fear; if only she knew how to wield the magik.

    How she did she do itst time?

    Her arm had hurt - but did the magike from there or from her mind?

    But what if everything that Aldwyn had told her was true?

    Would she really destroy the world?

    Thest time it happened, the shock had frightened her - almost as if the magik was in control of her, rather than her controlling it - and it left her feeling weaker and more scared than before.

    If this power was really somehow connected to the Auguries, could she dare use it?

    Did she want to be anywhere near it?

    Such an almighty and uncontrolled mysterious magik?

    No - magik could not be the solution.

    She could not risk unleashing such a force and destroying everything - including Ellis.

    But then, what was the point of being so powerful if she was still so helpless and left at the mercy of such evil as the Reevers?

    The three priests strode across the tform towards her.

    A bleak panic of fear stole her breath.

    It was her turn now.

    Her turn to be sliced open and bleed to a terrible death.

    What did Ellis mean about the demon?

    The priests loomed over her and swayed; their greying skin etched and wrinkled against the dim night; their sharpened teeth glinting in cruel and evil expectation. The central priest raised the Quillon above his head, its strange metal radiant in the steamy gloom.

    The constant chant of the crowd grew louder, more insistent.

    She wriggled and squirmed, but the chains held her fast.

    The priest lowered the Quillon close to her chest; so close that it almost sliced through her; so close that its sharpness called out to her terrified skin; he pulled it back up again.

    Her heart thudded and leapt in her chest.

    Why was she so helpless?

    Why couldn¡¯t she save them both?

    Where was the courage that Amber had pressed into her?

    The strength that Harath had seen?

    The priest brought the steely de down again.

    She should have stayed in the convent, safe and well, with the asional pikelet for breakfast.

    Should she close her eyes to die?

    Or look at Ellis onest time?

    Perhaps that would give her the bravery to face her demise?

    She peered down past her feet.

    Hey still, no longer kicking, just the feeble drip of his blood.

    But if Ellis was dead, at least she would soon be with him; at least they would not be alone; they would have each other - forever, for all eternity.

    The grotesque flicker of the Quillon sparked her anger and fear and resentment as the priest raised it for the third time.

    It can¡¯t be right that they should die like this.

    A itching prickle tingled beneath her skin.

    Her forearms glowed weakly, strange against the dark night.

    No! This wasn¡¯t what she wanted!

    The lustrous metal of the Quillon shed and gleamed as its keen edge plunged down toward her vulnerable body.

    She turned her terrified eyes away; her breath stuttered and paused and waited, ready for the painful wounding slice to burn across her chest and end her miserable life.

 79. A Deadly Ending

    A piercing, vicious yellow light crackled and shook the dark night.

    Kira screwed her eyes to its startling brilliance.

    Was this death?

    The shocked priest cried out; anguished pain etched across his face; he thudded to the tform; the Quillon rattled free.

    Kira¡¯s frantic mind raced and flooded.

    Had <i>she </i>killed him somehow?

    Even when she hadn¡¯t wanted to?

    Was she truly the awful monster that Aldwyn had predicted?

    The fizzing re of another st of energy hissed into the crowd of Reevers on the crater¡¯s floor.

    That definitely wasn¡¯t her.

    A fierce storm of glowering bolts rained down through the dim unsuspecting air; they ripped through the helpless gathering; their biting odour cut through the muggy warmth of sulphur.

    She knew that smell.

    Her traumatic memories spiked back to the panic and carnage of the Sacred Grove.

    The witches!

    Was there no escape from these wretched terrors?

    She strained her eyes high up into the steep walls of the gloomy crater - a group of shadows hovered and darted, moving swiftly with a deadly menace as they speared down a torrent of brutal energy.

    The Reevers thundered out vehement howls of anger; they scattered for cover at the perimeters of the hollow arena.

    The two priests, who stood over Kira, turned and tried to run. One was struck immediately by a thudding st and crumbled to the tform at the side of her bench; the other barely got a few steps away - even with the dazzling speed of his blurred movements - before he too was destroyed by a crushing shaft of magik.

    Were the witches here to kill her?

    Had theye to finish what they had attempted at the Grove?

    A number of the Reevers charged up the steep sides of the crater and leapt out at those witches who had flown too low over the crowd; they hacked with swirling axes; the fierce barrage of magik pummelled down; its sharp, crashing deluge reverberated and blurred into the hideous screams and howling shouts of battle; the sulphurous air grew thick with the stench of charred remains.

    A dark, shimmering shadow hovered near the tform; the violence of her spells cascaded and forked down, shing and crackling against the dim night. A set of heavy footsteps charged forward past Kira; a Reever sprinted to the edge and leapt at the witch; his bulky weight dragged her down into the baying fury of the crowd; her dying screams ripped and echoed across the hollow belly of the crater.

    Kira¡¯s terrified mind scrambled; she writhed against the brutal chains; a second witchnded on the tform and slithered towards her.

    Her horrified skin recoiled; the foul creature came closer. Kira shuddered and tried to back away; the rough chains refused to allow her retreat.

    She wanted to shut her eyes - to blot out the evil apparition - but the tormented memories of her dead ssmates haunted her thoughts and forced her startled eyes wide.

    A stark fear crawled across her skin. The grotesque witch loomed over her; she was certain to die - to be killed cruelly in tormented pain like the Harmonist and the others.

    She winced; her body convulsed to be up so close to one of the repugnant things for the first time. How savage and inhuman it looked, this shimmering coiled vibration of female form - its t face so cruel and distorted; its cataract-blinded eyes, so unfeeling and lifeless, without the flickering movements of a pupil to animate them.

    No - Aldwyn was wrong!

    She could never be such a creature!

    The chaos of the battle sted and shook all around, echoing across the vast crater, but the witch remained eerily calm and still, apparently lost in its own concentration; its nked eyes stared deep into her, as if searching and uncertain for a brief moment.

    The blood pounded through Kira¡¯s ears; the harrowing, tangled images of her ssmates stabbed through her tortured mind - their agony, the twisting screams of their deaths - the cold evil that had extinguished their lives, their hopes, now glowered over her.

    She was certain to be killed in the same cruel, insidious way.

    The creature¡¯s eyes cleared and glowed a deep, menacing yellow; it reached out a slow, spindly hand towards Kira¡¯s face; the living markings within its arms shifted and circted, radiant against the dark chaos of the night.

    Kira gasped and tried to catch her sharp, frightened breath; she jerked her head back, desperate to avoid the poisonous touch of the evil predator - determined to clutch at a few more seconds of precious life.

    Thenk hand stretched further, closer, and snaked towards her eyes. An urgent thudding horror pounded through Kira¡¯s helpless body; she twisted and contorted her neck, but the burning fingers slithered closer; a dank smell of decaying forests and venomous toadstools overtook her; she could not move, she could not get away; the fingers crawled across her vulnerable face; a bleak terror convulsed through her.

    The distant noise of the battle fell away, meaningless.

    The slow breath thumped through her hollow chest.

    She waited for the Surrounder to wee her - she was ready.

    Let this unnatural monster kill her - her hopes for a future were gone anyway - she would finally be with Ellis.

    Let it just be over with.

    Let it not be such tormented agony.

    Thenguid fingers calmly stretched past her eyes and wormed into the stout chains around her head. The links snapped and rattled down to the tform; the oppressive, constricting weight around her temples disappeared. The witch¡¯s eyes glowed with a deeper, more vibrant yellow; her sinewy arms extended and touched the cruel metal bindings around Kira¡¯s arms and legs; the coiled chains cracked open and cascaded away.

    Kira¡¯s thoughts tumbled and shocked; the restricted blood tried to alleviate the numbing cramp in her legs; the firm, wiry arms of the witch wove around her and lifted her up, clear of the bench.

    Kira struggled, but floated upward, away from the tform - away from the chaos and din of the attack - away from Ellis.

    Ellis!

    She wrestled against the vine-like grip of the witch.

    She must get free.

    She must help Ellis

    The fibrous arms grasped her tighter and refused to let go; the malicious witch floated higher and dragged Kira up - clear of the tform; her vulnerable legs dangled above the furious heads of the Reevers.

    The cruel blood trickled from Ellis¡¯s wound down below her.

    Perhaps there was still time?

    Perhaps there was still something she could do?

    Something to save him - to staunch the flow of his blood - to stop his precious life from ebbing away.

    If she could just get to him.

    She kicked and struggled, but the witch continued to rise smoothly, higher above the tform.

    A Reever leapt up and clutched at one of the witch¡¯s legs in a strong, unyielding hand.

    His sudden jolting weight halted their progress.

    The Reever swung a huge battle axe with his free arm; a swift metallic sh arced terrifyingly through the night air towards Kira; she flinched and feared for her life; the keen-edged weapon thudded deep into the shimmering body of the witch; they plummeted back down to the hard, jolting surface of the tform.

    A sharp, jarring pain stabbed up from Kira¡¯s ankle as it twisted with the shock of hernding.

    The infuriated Reever crashed to the tform close by; the tangled, lifeless remains of the witch thumped down on top of him and trapped him beneath a heavy, sprawling web of coils.

    The stinging waves of pain stole Kira¡¯s heaving breath - but Ellis was just a short distance away at the other end of the tform.

    She dashed towards him, shutting out the fierce confusion and noise; the piercing stench of sulphur, and the dimmed chaos of the night.

    The howling war-cries blurred into the screams of the dying; brilliant shes of magikal energy shook and echoed across the melee and carnage of the crater - but Kira could focus on only one thing - Ellis.

    She scrambled towards him, his asional blood still dripped to the bowl below, his skin seemed grey and cold.

    She pushed past the skulls and knives of the ceremonial table; her desperate fingers stretched out to touch him; a fierce grip from behind closed around one of her arms and jerked her back roughly a short, cruel distance away from his pallid body.

    She turned and recognised the snarling anger of the Prince; his savage hands clenched brutally around her arm and dragged her back - away from Ellis.

    She fumbled for one of the ceremonial knives on the table; she grasped it and shed hard at his hateful face with all the angry strength she could find.

    The Prince howled an agonised roar; his hands flew to the bitter wound; he staggered back blindly a few paces and tumbled from the edge of the tform into the heaving swarm of fighting Reevers and witches below.

    Kira refused to hesitate - the fate of the vicious Reever was of no concern; she darted back to Ellis - her sole focus - the only thing that truly mattered in all the mouring death and confusion.

    His limbs dangled limp and motionless in their chains; his exhausted greying face was empty and wan; his lips tinged a pale blue; and his eyes - those eyes which had shone up at her with such life and promise above the sheer deadly cliffs of the mountain pass - were now closed and formed a bleak, deste barrier to his warmth and friendship.

    The slow blood oozed out and sshed down into the vessel beneath him; every drop robbed him of his life; every drop robbed her of a future, of hope, of happiness.

    She grasped his arm; his skin was still warm; perhaps there was still hope?

    She shook his motionless body but could not rouse him; she pped at his cheek.

    Why couldn¡¯t she be a healer like Aldwyn?

    What was it the old man had taught her?

    Observe, diagnose, apply a remedy?

    But her scrambled thoughts refused to gather.

    How could she focus calmly at a time like this?

    How could anyone?

    What was the use of having the power to destroy the world if she could not use it to save the ones she loved?

    And Ellis was dying there - right in front of her - and she could do nothing.

    She threw her arms around him and pressed her head to his stomach and hoped that this might somehow staunch the flow of his blood, or perhaps offer her thefort of his pulse.

    His skin was cool against her cheek; thest vestiges of warmth and spirit drained from him.

    There must be something she could do to save him?

    If only she could think, if only she could focus.

    A set of strong, vascr fingers grasped her from behind and wound themselves around her arms and body.

    She felt their urgent tugging pull, but refused to acknowledge their grip and clung desperately to Ellis.

    The arms hauled her upwards.

    She held on tighter and dug her stubborn toes down to anchor herself; to be with him, to save him, or at least be of somefort to him when the Surrounder took him.

    But the powerful, insistent force lifted her up, clear of the tform.

    Her legs dangled uselessly.

    She could not hold on.

    His wilted, unresponsive fingers slipped through hers.

    She stretched out a despairing hand, determined to remain with him; she kicked and tried to wriggle free, but the tight wiry grip sped her hard and pulled her up into the air.

    ¡°No! Let me go! I¡¯ve got to save him!¡± she shouted.

    She extended and strained every sinew; perhaps her fingers couldtch onto him; or her toes; or her eyes could hold her in ce near him, but the witch lifted her higher, further away from Ellis, further away from hope.

    She fought to wrestle free.

    They could take her if they wanted - they could kill her like they did the other novicee - it didn¡¯t matter anymore.

    But save him, save Ellis.

    Her distraught eyes gazed down at him; her ears imagined they could still pick out the feeble flutter of his heart, but the callous arms of the witch pulled her up higher into the unfeeling chill of the night sky, as Ellis receded cruelly away beneath her dangling feet.

    The ring glow of theva and the ferocious noise of the battle spiralled distantly below her. The bracing wind billowed into her face and tangled through her hair.

    A fall from here might kill her - but she was prepared to risk it, to risk it all.

    ¡°No! Go back!¡± she shouted. ¡°I¡¯ve got to help him!¡±

    She writhed and twisted.

    ¡°Stop struggling, fool,¡± the witch hissed down at her and snaked out a fibrous hand to her forehead.

    A searing coldness stung across Kira¡¯s mind and body.

    Her limbs fell useless and limp; her focus in the world slipped away and was lost in the deep swirling blur of an all-epassing darkness.

    I hope you enjoyed reading "The Fickle Winds of Autumn".

    Please let me know in thements!

    Coming Next:

    <b><i>Beneath the Mncholy Stars Book 2 : </i></b>

    <b><i>The Bitter Kiss of Winter</i></b>T¨ºxt ? N?velDrama.Org.

    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and

    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!