Heritage Of The Xandim

31

THE GATHERING

The feral leader scrutinised Kelon with those serious, cool eyes. ‘Hemifae, he called you.’

Kelon nodded, though from her tone she had stated a fact, not asked a question. ‘I have human blood in my veins, the same as you.’

She spat. ‘You also have cursed Phaerie blood in your veins, so you’ll never be the same as us. But you killed that snake, so you get to live - at least till we’ve talked.’ Never taking those appraising eyes off him, she jerked her head in an ‘over there’ gesture. ‘Move away from that scheming bastard.’

‘I like your way with words,’ Kelon said. He kept his voice light, but he was not sorry to put some distance between himself and Ferimon. Before today, he had never killed anyone. Inwardly, he was quaking and his heart was thundering, but he held himself together by sheer force of will so as not to betray any weakness to the ferals. Nonetheless, he could not help but flinch as the girl marched over to the Phaerie’s corpse and gave it a number of vicious kicks, the last of which was full in the face. He wondered at the venom in her expression; the hatred and anger betrayed by her violence and her tense, jerky movements.

That was personal, he thought. It was more than a gut reaction to a dead oppressor. So how did this grim-faced crew know Ferimon?

Given the feral leader’s current mood, he decided this was not the time to ask her. With a final kick, she turned away from Ferimon’s body. ‘Loot that carrion, Sim,’ she said. ‘Make sure you get everything - we’ve a use for it all, that’s for sure. We’ll leave now and go somewhere safer, so we can talk with this stranger.’

‘How do we know we can trust him?’ someone asked.

She gave a wry, one shouldered shrug. ‘Who says I trust him?’ Her eyes went to the glowing sphere that still hovered just beyond him. ‘And what the bloody blazes is that thing?’

‘I wish I knew,’ Kelon admitted. ‘Some sort of magic, I think. It attached itself to me in the forest, and it was leading me somewhere when I stumbled across Ferimon.’

‘Maybe it was his spell. He seemed to hate you enough. Maybe he used that thing to lure you.’

Kelon shook his head. ‘Spells don’t normally last long after the caster’s death - apart from the magic that makes the horses fly. If that failed immediately, then—’ He noticed her foot tapping impatiently. ‘Never mind,’ he went on quickly. ‘That spell is no Phaerie magic. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen.’

She cast her eyes to the heavens. ‘Then why in the name of thunder were you stupid enough to follow it, instead of heading off as quick as you could in the opposite direction? I may not have any fancy Phaerie blood in my veins, but I’ve got enough sense to know you shouldn’t mess with strange magic.’

‘You should be grateful you’ve a choice.’ Kelon glared at her. ‘It seems to have attached itself to me in some way. It sticks with me wherever I go, but really it appears to want me to follow it. I decided that the only way to shake it off was to find the caster.’

The feral girl’s eyes grew round as moons. ‘My friend, I salute you. You must have balls of iron.’

‘Balls of fire, more like,’ jested some wit from among the bowmen, gesturing to the glowing sphere. ‘Still,’ the wisecracker added, ‘this wants some thinking about, Danel. Seems to me we don’t want nought to do with no strange magic. And if we take him with us, the thing’s latched on to us, too. Seems to me that we have but two choices. Either leave him to go on his way, and take that bloody unnatural thing out of our territory - or kill him, and get rid of it that way.’

Kelon thought fast. ‘If you kill me, what’s to stop the spell attaching itself to one of you instead?’

Danel - as her name had turned out to be - hesitated a moment, gnawing on a grubby, bitten fingernail. ‘Let him go,’ she decided. ‘It’s not worth the risk, and I’m certainly not taking him to any of our hideouts with that thing following him.’

‘We could take his horses, at least,’ a woman said hopefully. ‘There’s enough meat there to feed everyone twice over.’

Kelon’s hand tightened possessively on Alil’s bridle as he surveyed the ring of ferals. Though they looked like a murderous crew, with their bows trained on him and their grim, uncompromising eyes, a closer look betrayed gaunt, shivering flesh beneath the threadbare tatters of clothing that hung from their bony frames. Their hollow, pinched faces spoke of hunger and privation far beyond his own understanding. For the first time, he realised that the Phaerie view with which he had been raised - that humans were little more than useful animals - was wrong.

Danel interrupted his thoughts. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Not that it isn’t tempting, but I don’t want to risk causing any trouble with that cursed spell thing. If whoever cast it is leading him towards them, then they want him for something, and I’m not going to get in their way.’

She nodded brusquely to Kelon. ‘On your way, stranger, and our thanks for killing that whoreson filth, though we could have done it ourselves anyway,’ she ended on a note of pride. ‘Go on - what are you waiting for? Get you gone, and your strange spells with you.’

‘Wait.’ Kelon did not want to push his luck - every instinct was screaming at him to get out of there as fast as possible - but he had to know. ‘Why do you hate Ferimon so much, Danel? How do you know him?’

‘Don’t tell him,’ someone cried, but the feral leader ignored the interruption.

‘I don’t see the harm in telling him. Not at this point. And someone ought to tell the Phaerie the truth, before any more of us get slaughtered by her bloody Hunt.’

She turned back to Kelon. ‘It’s like this. A few months ago, when the winter was at its coldest and we were having a real struggle to survive, that one turned up.’ She gave Ferimon’s body another vicious kick. ‘Brought us food and blankets, didn’t he? Warm clothing and healing herbs and stuff. Said he sympathized with our plight. My father was leader . . .’ She paused, closed her eyes and swallowed hard. ‘He trusted the lying weasel. Ferimon had a plan, he said. If Hellorin was out of the picture, the human slaves in Eliorand could be freed. He gave us weapons, these good bows, and set up an ambush—’

‘That was Ferimon?’ Kelon gasped.

‘None other. I never liked his scheme, but my father thought the risk worthwhile, and so we walked into the trap like a lot of innocent babes. Since Hellorin fell, his accursed daughter has hunted us down like rabid dogs, along with all the other ferals in the forest. Who naturally blame us for their troubles, and now we’re beset by enemies on all sides.’

‘While Ferimon seduced Tiolani and gained power in Eliorand,’ Kelon said.

‘And my father was killed by the Hunt.’ Though her voice was steady enough, she could not keep the telltale tremor of emotion from her voice.

‘I’m sorry,’ Kelon said softly. ‘I wish I could help you. My deepest thanks for saving my life from Ferimon’s creature and its minions. Go well, all of you: especially you, Danel.’

‘Go well - what’s your name, stranger, anyway?’

‘Kelon.’

‘Go well then, Kelon. Good luck to you.’ And with that, she and her companions melted back into the forest, leaving him alone with the cooling body of his foe - and the mysterious glowing sphere that waited to lead him on his way.

Hidden, helpless in the undergrowth, a deadly blade at her throat in the hands of a desperate human, Tiolani was forced to listen as her life was smashed into jagged shards. The only way she could ever have believed that Ferimon would betray her was if she heard it from his own lips - and now she had. Much as her mind twisted and turned to try to evade and deny, there was no escape. Thoughts and memories cascaded through her mind with lightning speed, as all her actions of the past months came crashing down on her. Her unquestioning trust in Ferimon, the way he had persuaded her to dismiss her father’s old counsellors and surrounded her with his private guards. The way he had been always at her side, enfolding her, as she had thought, with love and security, even though he had never shown the slightest interest in her through all the years she had worshipped him as a young girl, before she had lost her father and brother. Why had she not suspected? How could she not have seen? Through advising her, helping her, influencing her decisions and her thoughts, he ruled the Phaerie just as effectively as if he had been Forest Lord himself. And she had let him. Her face was hot with shame.

She had loved him with all her heart, and he had made a fool of her. It had all been a lie - an evil, calculated lie. For cutting him down like a dog, Kelon deserved any reward she had in her power to give.

A chill ran through Tiolani as she thought of her father. Was it not strange that he was taking so long to recover? Ferimon had always been so very quick to lull her fears and concerns, encouraging her to enjoy this chance to rule. Had he bribed the physicians somehow? If she had thought to investigate more closely, would she have had Hellorin back with her by now, as healthy and powerful as ever?

Oh, how she wished he was back!

She thought of Aelwen, whom Ferimon had represented as a meddlesome hag who deemed Tiolani unfit to rule. She realised how wrong she had been to distrust and resent the Horsemistress. Aelwen, whose help she had lately scorned, had taught her to ride and had been there, steadfast and stalwart, all through her life, and Tiolani had repaid her with anger and vicious threats.

Oh, how she wanted her now!

If that were not enough, there was worse, far worse, to come. She could blame Ferimon for so many things, but she, and she alone, had been responsible for all the slaughter. The image of Ambaron came back from the dead, his face contorted with fear, his eyes fierce with accusation, filling her with horror, guilt and remorse, and behind him the other Hemifae she had executed on the slightest pretext: partly because they had dared to question her actions, but chiefly because of their part-human heritage. She had carved a bloody swathe through the slaves in Eliorand, and in the Hunt she had bathed in gore, and revelled in her thoughts of retribution and revenge.

They deserved it. They killed my brother.

True. But Ferimon had arranged that deadly ambush; he had provided the weapons and used the ferals as his tools. And how many of their fathers, mothers and children had she slain? While she’d been forced to listen to the ferals talking among themselves, it had no longer been possible merely to view them as savage forest animals. The leader, in particular, had struck a chord with her - a young girl just like herself who had been thrust into the responsibilities of leadership after her father had fallen.

Tiolani’s mind was in turmoil. It was impossible to let go of so much hatred all at once, and yet . . . She was beginning to understand that she’d been wrong about so many things: she had been granted the privilege and responsibility of ruling, and she’d made an appalling mess of everything. If Hellorin ever did wake up, he would be so angry with her . . .

Don’t be ridiculous. You aren’t going to live that long.

If only there was some way to put everything right. She would do anything, anything . . .

Anything? A desperate plan began to form in her mind. But it would depend on reaching some kind of accommodation with the ferals: prohibiting the Hunt and even helping those she had previously hunted to survive and thrive in the forest. To save her life, could she bring herself to forgive the stinking humans for what they had done, or even enforce such a bargain? And even then, the discontinuation of the Wild Hunt was going to be an extremely unpopular decision, and Tiolani did not deceive herself about her current lack of popularity in Eliorand. And what of Hellorin, supposing he should ever recover? He would not only be furious with her, but would probably refuse to honour any bargains she might make.

Well, that wouldn’t be her fault.

Very slowly and carefully, she turned her head a fraction and whispered to the man with the knife. ‘I want to see Danel. I can help you. I swear, no tricks.’ If only she could get the leader’s attention while Kelon was still there . . .

But it was no good. ‘Shut up, you,’ the guard hissed, and followed the words with a vicious kick in the side. Indulged and pampered all her life, Tiolani had never been struck before. Silenced and cowed by pain and shock, she huddled into herself, despising her own cowardice as the vital moments slipped away from her until, despairing, she heard Kelon depart, and knew that she had failed.

Now she was alone indeed. There would not be a second chance. She had only her wits and her will to survive to depend on. She hoped they would be enough.

This was the moment Athina had been waiting for. It was a simple matter for a being of her power to look into the minds of these lesser creations, and while the situation between Kelon and Ferimon had been unfolding, she had been monitoring Tiolani’s thoughts and reactions very carefully. Now, while the Forest Lord’s daughter was distressed, terrified and above all contrite, Athina knew the time was ripe to act.

She cloaked her thoughts in light and watched, amused, as the jaws of the feral humans dropped open in shock when her image shimmered into existence, right in their very midst.

There was a sudden tumult of curses, yells and running feet. Athina shrugged as a fusillade of arrows passed harmlessly through her illusion. These primitive creatures were always so predictable. Danel, who had been in the clearing looting Ferimon’s body, came at a dead run and pulled up short at the sight of the ghostly figure. ‘Hold your fire,’ she shouted. ‘You’re only wasting arrows.’ Then, swallowing hard, she straightened her shoulders and stepped forward. ‘Who are you, Lady? What do you want with us?’

‘I want her.’ The Cailleach pointed a finger at the trussed-up form of Hellorin’s daughter. An explosion of light flared forth, causing the humans to scatter in terror, shielding their eyes. When they emerged, drawn back by a power they could not understand and blinking the dazzle from their vision, Tiolani was gone.

The image of Athina still stood unmoving and unperturbed, ignoring the cries of dismay and the scattering of arrows that came her way despite Danel’s orders. ‘Where is she?’ Danel demanded. ‘She was our prisoner, damn it. What have you done with her?’

The Cailleach smiled. ‘You were on the right track all along, Danel. There is a great deal that you and Tiolani can do to help one another - though it is as well for you that I came to you when I did. She is her father’s daughter, and would not have honoured any bargain she made with you, were I not here to hold her to her word. Go as quickly as you can to the tower by the lake. You will find Tiolani there, as well as myself and certain others who will influence your fate.’

She beckoned to the feral leader, and her voice now held a compelling note that seemed to resonate within the very depths of Danel’s mind. ‘Come now. Bring your followers. You will be fed and sheltered there, and I can protect you from any of the Phaerie Hunt who might be searching for Tiolani. Do not delay, Danel. Do not be afraid. Believe me when I say that I have your interests at heart, and represent the best chance of a safe future for your people that you are ever likely to find. Will you trust me, O leader of the free humans? Will you hasten to the tower?’

‘But - but there isn’t a tower by the lake,’ Danel protested.

‘There is now.’ Athina gave her a beatific smile, and vanished.

The dismissal of her phantasm released the rigid control under which the Cailleach had been holding herself during her encounter with the ferals. As her consciousness returned to her physical form she staggered, overcome by a wave of dizziness and weakness, and collapsed to the floor.

Dael came running. ‘Lady, what happened? Are you ill? How can I help you?’ Putting an arm around her, he helped her back to her feet, and supported her while she sank into a chair. Athina sent him off for some water that she did not need, just to give herself a moment to collect her reeling thoughts. Uriel’s warning echoed in her mind. She was shocked to discover the rate at which her powers were diminishing. She wondered if she would be able to accomplish everything she needed to achieve before the loss of her powers left her stranded. For the first time it became crystal clear to her that, much as she loved this world, the idea of being trapped here for the brief span of a limited life filled her with the utmost horror and fear. She couldn’t let it happen. The cost was simply too great. She must hurry, and make the best possible use of the little time she had left, and then must leave before it was too late, whether or not her work to secure this world had been completed.

Athina sighed, and dragged herself heavily to her feet. She had better go upstairs and deal with Tiolani, before Dael discovered her - but first, there was one more person to set on the proper path.

Aelwen was too uncomfortable to sleep. The dripping trees offered little shelter from the cold wind and driving rain, and she was forced to huddle miserably beside her wet and unhappy horse, trying to share a little of Taryn’s body heat to keep her going. She couldn’t sit or lie on the wet ground. All she could do was stare into the disquieting shadows of the forest and worry about Kelon, how long the Phaerie would search for the two of them and what they would do next if they did, against the odds, escape their pursuers and get together once more.

There was no point in trying to go on in the darkness. It would be foolhardy to risk herself and Taryn on such a wild and turbulent night. The wind was strong enough to tear off whole branches, and once, too close for comfort, she had heard a rending creak, like the last cry of a tortured spirit, followed by an earth-shaking crash as an entire tree came down.

Beneath the forest canopy, it was impossible to see the sky. After a time, however, Aelwen noticed that light had begun to filter through the surrounding woodland - but not the pale, ephemeral luminescence that preceded dawn. This was a smouldering red glow, as if the forest was burning somewhere nearby. Her heart gave a couple of uneasy thumps before her common sense told her that there was no crackle of burning wood or roar of flames, and no smoke or smell of burning. Besides, a blaze would never survive on this wet night. So if not fire, then what?

Aelwen blinked, and knuckled her sleepy eyes. A small globe of light, about the size of her head, was coming towards her - bobbing through the trees at chest height. It came to rest in mid-air about a yard away. Aelwen stretched out a hand, stopping a few inches away from the mysterious, radiant orb. She could feel no heat or cold coming from it, and a faint tingle in her fingertips hinted at some form of magical energy emanating from the thing. Very, very cautiously, she reached out with her mind, forming a telekinetic spell - and gave the sphere a push. It was like trying to move a mountain. Aelwen staggered back a step or two as her magic rebounded off the impervious orb and recoiled hard against her.

The glowing light suddenly began to move again, floating slowly away from her through the trees, then hovering steadily a dozen feet away as though waiting. When she had shown no sign of moving after a moment, it looped back to her, bobbing up and down impatiently in front of her nose before floating off again into the forest and stopping in the same place. There was something familiar about the pattern of its movement: it reminded Aelwen of a hound she’d once owned, which used to race off in the same way and then wait for her, crouched low, tail wagging, inviting her to follow.

It wanted her to follow? Oh, surely not. But once again, as she hesitated, it started to move, repeating exactly the same sequence: return, retreat and wait. It was magic, for sure, but not of a kind that she had ever come across. She had met Wizards of Tyrineld, come to Eliorand to trade in less suspicious times, and this did not have the feel of Wizards’ magic. Besides, the magelight they produced was not red but a silvery blue.

The light bounced up and down in the air before her, as if growing impatient, and the sight of it made Aelwen smile. She stopped dithering, deciding to trust her instincts and follow.

‘Very well,’ she told it. ‘I’m coming.’ Leading her horse, she set off through the trees. As soon as she began to move, the shining orb moved too, keeping a short distance ahead of her, and leading her on through the dark forest. At least the movement helped keep her warmer, though her legs were aching and her head buzzed with weariness. After a time, she noticed that the first dim glimmers of daylight were stealing between the crowding trees.

Maybe now she could ride again, and give her aching legs a rest. The Horsemistress swung into the saddle - and found a pair of blue eyes staring into her own. Clinging to a branch, right at her new eye level as she sat on the tall stallion’s back, lay the most extraordinary feline that Aelwen had ever seen. She had heard of the blue-eyed cats that the Wizards bred in Tyrineld, but the strange reality, with long, luxuriant fur that seemed to be created out of light and shadow and the stunning eyes in the sable mask, went far beyond the tales.

At its best, it would be magnificent. For the moment, however, the poor creature was clearly suffering. Its fur was soaked into spikes and it looked small, bedraggled and pathetic as it crouched flat to the branch, its eyes dull and glazed. Aelwen knew perfectly well that she was in no position to be taking care of sick animals, and should simply ride away and not look back - yet the sad little figure tugged at her heart. How could she leave it? She doubted very much that it would survive for very long all alone in the forest.

After a brief inner struggle, and smiling wryly at her own folly, she disengaged its claws from their stranglehold on the branch and carefully lifted it down. At least it would be company. Though she had been ready for it to erupt into a fury of clawing and biting, it lay limp and unresponsive in her arms. Aelwen ran expert hands over its body, and it did not seem to be physically hurt in any way. She suspected that it was simply in shock. Something had terrified it, probably the storm itself, and it had fled until terror and exhaustion had overcome it completely.

But this was no wild creature, and there was no way it could have come right into the darkest heart of the forest by itself. So who had brought it here? Where were its owners, and what had happened to them?

She had almost forgotten the mysterious light. When she had stopped it had paused with her, hovering in place about three feet away. Now it came closer, zooming and swerving wildly through the air, right in front of her nose. With a muttered curse, she drew her cloak over the cat so that it wouldn’t be frightened, and set off after the impatiently bobbing globe. She began to wonder if, perhaps, this strange light belonged to the owners of the feline. She knew little of Wizards’ magic - could they produce something like this?

As she rode, she couldn’t help speculating about what was happening in Eliorand following her escape. Tiolani already knew they had fled, taking three of Hellorin’s precious bloodstock with them . . . The Horsemistress shivered. The furious ruler would stop at nothing in her attempts to hunt them down. So where was the Hunt? And where was Kelon? Again she called in mindspeech, hoping against hope that he would answer this time, but there was no reply.

‘What’s that?’ Aelwen pulled up her horse. The breeze had picked up a little, blowing into her face. It carried a wonderful smell of woodsmoke and fried bacon. As if on cue, the red sphere in front of her vanished. Through the trees she heard the sound of voices.