Chapter Eighteen - The Girls
THE BURIAL WAS, supposedly, a very touching and beautiful affair, I didn't know, I had hardly moved from my bed in days. Apart from the first night home when a distraught Rosamaylind came to dress the wounds on my shoulders with a Banshee ointment or the occasional trip to the bathroom to vomit, or to the bedroom door to pick up the plates of food Merl left there for me. I didn't eat, I couldn't, I just pushed the food around the plate aimlessly. I'd moved back into the town house and Merl had offered me the comfort of my observatory room again but I didn't want it any longer. It smelt of Elba even just to walk by. I couldn't stand the smell of her anymore.
Jestin had called numerous times over the past few nights but I wasn't ready to face anyone at the moment, not even him.
On the way to the toilet, I overheard a rushed conversation between Merl and Balthus that started out about my transformation the night on the beach.
I wasn't sure what happened myself so I don't know why Merl and Balthus felt they would be able to work out what was going on inside me. Honestly, it was the last thing on my mind anyway.
When I tuned back from the catatonic trance I had fleetingly plunged into, they were discussing how Madge was staying put in the cabin despite her terrible experience there. Jestin also remained in the same room as the portal, that was now safe because it had been sealed, and Bugul had moved in to the main room with Madge and Herborg for Madge's piece of mind. Balthus was staying with Bettery, helping to look after Crone and Delpha whilst she recovered.
I hadn't seen her injury yet but it must be bad because I'd heard she hadn't attended Dahlia's funeral either and that wasn't like her. I wanted to go and see her, I did, I even got to the front door of Merl's crooked townhouse, but as I took in a breath in preparation of facing the world again, I crumbled, Merl found me sobbing in the doorway a short time later, half-asleep, I'd exhausted myself with crying. He levitated me back to my room and I hadn't been out since.
TAP, TAP,TAP,
"Violet deary, it's me it is, can I come in?" Bettery! I'd wanted to see her for days and now I felt horrible that, despite her injury, she had come to me instead. I felt like an awful person. She must have thought I didn't care. I will myself to answer but no words come out of my mouth, instead, a sound that was something between a sigh and a 'huh' escaped from between my cracked lips. "Oh deary, I know the pain your feeling, believe me I do, but you can't just lock yourself in and hope the world will go away you can't." The doorknob creaks and Bettery tentatively steps inside.
At first, I notice nothing distinctly different about her, all her limbs are intact, her curled hair is bouncing around on the nape of her neck, her head adorned with her usual string of daisies'. The scent of spring wafts into my dry nostrils, Bettery always smells of spring. She still has the same optimistic bounce to her movements as she pulls the door to a close behind her.
"Merl will be up soon he will." She said turning to face me, her usual cheery smile on her face only this time it was marred by the slightest touch of sadness. She was grieving, just like me only she hid it much better than I ever could. Now I notice her injury, the reason for that awful scream I heard as I bobbed around in the ocean. Covering her left eye, was a white cotton daisy-shaped patch. Much like the flower, it had a circular yellow middle, matching the band of daisies she usually wore to pull up her hair, and strangely suited to her face. She noticed my line of sight directed at the patch. I looked away ashamed that she had seen me gawping at her. "I won't show you the wound deary but let's just say I'm not as complete as I used to be I'm not."
"She took your eye." I was stating the obvious rather unhelpfully and unclearly, my voice was raspy. I hadn't talked in days.
"That she did, but she took something much more important than that from us deary so let's not dwell on an eye." Bettery shook her head dismissively. I was in awe of the woman who stood before me, her calm composure, and her refusal to give up. She was so small in stature but so large in spirit, she put me to shame.
"I'm sorry. I should have just gone with her at the beginning." My eyes found the floor.
"What an ingenious solution. Let us empower the bloodthirsty witch further with a nice, ripe magical heart. Sometimes my girl you really are a nincompoop." Merrydian had slipped in unnoticed. I raised my gaze to see Jestin follow him through the door.
"I cant.." I began to speak.
"None of that any longer my girl, you have had your time for sorrow, it does the soul no good to sit and dwell upon the things that can break it." Merl interrupted.
"Violet, please." Jestin spoke now. He didn't look like his usual composed self. Dark circles underneath his eyes indicated a severe lack of sleep, his hair, ruffled and wild looking as he ran his finger through it the way he always did. The desperation in his eyes shocked me. "Please Violet, let us in. Let us help you heal." His voice broke with worry. Seeing Jestin this way was horrible, it served as the pin that popped the balloon of sadness and pressure I had allowed to inflate within me, words began to flood from my mouth
"She was my friend and she didn't deserve that, she shouldn't have been here. She should have been at home, living an ordinary life, with ordinary people. She should have lived to be an old woman." I sobbed. "She would never have been here if it wasn't for me. She would never have been in the water that night, scared half to death for her baby, if I hadn't jumped through the portal. She would be safe, at home with her father where she should be now." Everything I had kept locked away over the last few days came flooding out with my salty tears.
"You must stop carrying the weight of all of Falinn Galdur on your shoulders you must deary." Bettery urged softly.
"But if I hadn't.."
"If you hadn't passed through the gate it is true that Dahlia, on the balance of probability, would never have come here." Merl interrupted me again. "She would not have made the rash decision to couple with Idris, she might not have lost her father so soon in life, or her mother. She most likely, would not have been in the water that fateful night. As you say Dahlia would probably have lived an ordinary life and died an ordinary death." He continued. "Yet Dahlia was not an ordinary girl. When she travelled here, to the island of Falinn Galdur, Dahlia discovered who she truly was, and let me tell you she was more than a little thrilled upon learning her royal heritage. She would not have realised her power, neither would she have ever met her mother, ruled over a people as a gracious monarch, even for a short while as it turned out. She would not have fallen in love, however misplaced that love may have been in our eyes. What you must take comfort in above all else Violet my girl is that, in Airmid, Dahlia had something worth sacrificing her own life for and that is a thing of great significance when considering the very sad way in which she died."
He walked over to where I sat on the bed. His footsteps stirred the dust that had settled on the wooden floor below creating tiny grey clouds beneath his feet. He put a fatherly arm on my shoulder. "Now, it is time for us to ensure she did not die in vain. Now, we must make this island safe once and for all. Now we must avenge the beings both dead and alive who have suffered because of one woman's petty pursuit of power."
Merl's words stirred something within me. Was it her? Was it my inner-beast, the new side of me that I had unleashed so ferociously the night on the beach and sparked fear in the heart of Agrona. I'm not sure but I felt reckless all of a sudden. Merl was right. I shouldn't be wasting time, precious moments of my life that I would never be able to recall. Dahlia wouldn't have wanted that. I pulled myself from the bed, feeling the grief within me lighten and change as I moved upwards. It would always be there, of that, I was certain, but now it felt different, less like pain and more like purpose. I dusted off my dress, my hands shook because of the adrenaline that pulsed through my body like a drug. My heart beat violently against my chest. I was about to address Merl, who had taken a backward step, but my eyes met Jestin's. I saw hope, I saw loyalty, I saw love and it made me brave. I drew in a calming bre
ath before I spoke.
"Merl do you still have the sword of Cali?" I asked.
"Of course." I sensed his head move in an optimistic nodding motion.
"Good, because we've got a dragon to fight."
Jestin brightened at my words, he sensed the change in me as if we are connected, each soul entwined with the other. I wonder why I ever thought I could hide from him. There, I realised that there was no hiding, he saw me and I saw him too.
"Your eyes, they are amber." He breathed.
I was getting ready for the trip. Unsure of what I would need, I was just throwing the most random items into my leather sack. It wasn't like there was some kind of magical kit for fighting dragons, so I just made it up as I went along. I had already placed a bottle of shimmering green liquid Madge brewed me to help me sleep and a small letter knife in there, I was just about to put in some pebbles that I had collected with Crone when I heard Merl calling from downstairs.
I followed his voice to the sitting room. When I entered, Merl, Balthus and Jestin were gathered. They all looked up at me in unison, which I found rather unsettling. The smell of ale, a smell that accompanied Balthus everywhere recently, filled my nostrils.
"Sit down Violet." Balthus gestured to the place on the cushioned bench in-between himself and Jestin. I knew he was only trying to be polite but there was something about being told what to do that really got my back up.
"I'll stand thanks." I tried to sound polite, after-all the man had just witnessed his only daughter become the living embodiment of death, the look of horror in his eyes that night when he saw Elba that way was unforgettable. He seemed a little annoyed at my defiance but nodded his nonetheless.
"You are aware that the other night on Blossomdown beach, we all witnessed a rather, shall we say, dramatic change in you." I nodded. "I suppose you are aware by now that you appear to have gained some rather impressive and distinctly Worlen characteristics?"
"I'm guessing that, when Idris bit my lip during my stay at Thistlewick castle last summer all this started then?" My suspicions seem to have caused Jestin some offence, although I was confused as to why. Balthus too looked a little unsettled at my comment.
"No Violet, it is simply a human myth that a Worlen bite can turn a human into a wolf-like creature."
"Even under the light of a full moon would you believe?" Jestin said with a more playful tone to his voice now. I guess it wasn't my blatant ignorance of his culture that had offended him.
"No human has ever just become a Worlen, it is pure fantasy and folklore. No, I believe that when I bound Jestin to you, some of the spell must have rebounded and caused this change. It seems it did not manifest itself initially but now, for reasons beyond my comprehension it has come to the fore. A little like having a cold that goes on to become a virus if you will." Merl's last comment was characteristically untactful as ever.
"We do not bite, other than in battle. You might want to take account of that now you're going to be one of us." Balthus offered. Merl's eyebrows touched the top of his head in surprise and I could tell he was biting his tongue. One of them? His words threw me a little. I wasn't one of them, not that there was anything wrong with being a Worlen but I certainly wasn't one myself. I shook my head.
"I understand you have just offered me a great compliment but I'm sorry Balthus, I am not a Worlen." I felt strange, as if somehow Balthus was inadvertently robbing me of my own identity with his words.
"Nonsense girl, the Worlen are a pack." He boomed.
"Have you told that to Elba?" I asked feeling defensive. It was a cheap shot and I regretted it instantly but the wolf side of me seemed to be a little harder to reign-in than the normal me. "I'm sorry." I said, embarrassed by my comment. It was as if there really was a completely new side to me. I understood now, the bursts of uncontrollable anger I'd felt recently were all part of the change. Balthus looked to me stony-faced although anger burned in his eyes,
"She is dead now." His tone was equally as cold as his expression. He took a huge gulp of ale and then wiped is mouth with the back of his massive arm.
"So this, this change, is it why I have been feeling differently lately?"
"Indeed." Merl begun. "I believe we have found the reason for your unexpected surges of rage." My mouth partly slightly, betraying my surprise. "You thought I hadn't noticed?" I shrugged in response, supposing that it didn't make much difference if he had noticed or not and then a new thought occurred to me.
"Is this why I have been leaking uncontrollable magic?" I asked.
"I believe so. I admit it has been rather unfortunate at times, other times it seems to have served you well, yet the important thing is that you learn to yield it correctly." Merl answered.
I should've been more surprised by the revelation but the awful reality of accepting that I was never going to see Dahlia again somewhat dwarfed the blow of accepting that, the night Jestin had so bravely bound himself to protect me, I had begun to change irreversibly.
"She will not need magic any longer. We should focus on harnessing the beast within to fight the witch." Balthus interjected.
"Balthus, whilst I admire your sudden enthusiasm and interest in Violet's training, let us be realistic, even if she was full Worlen, which she is not, that would not be enough in battle against a foe as formidable as Agrona. Remember, Agrona currently holds a large part of your army prisoner in Forge Gate and with the Scythe in hand there in no predicting what she might be capable of doing. In any case, the unspoken magic within Violet is not something she chooses to unleash, it is linked to her emotions and if we encourage what is essentially a wild-beast within her that could have disastrous consequences when coupled with the magic." Merl spoke with authority but that did not deter Balthus from opening his mouth to reply.
"She should be trained in Worlen combat, she is a Worlen." Balthus bellowed.
"She is my heir and of my blood-line, her magic must be harnessed." Merl shot back.
"Stop!" I shouted, holding my hands out for emphasis as they begun to spark with electric blue light. "Stop this please. I am human, I was born human, and I am human. Just with a few extra's I suppose. I can't forget that, not ever, because if I do, I forget everything that came before this, I forget my parents, my family and friends, I forget me. I'm grateful for your help, I really am, but let me decide what I am and who I am or I'll never grow into whoever I am supposed to be." I put my hands back to my sides as the magic settled after that cathartic release. Jestin smiled as he walked over to where I stood and put his arm around my shoulder.
"I know you." He whispered into my ear softly before looking into my eyes. "I see you." I smiled back, melting on the inside at his words. I would never isolate myself from him again. I doubt I ever could.
Balthus stumbled out of the room after swilling a whole bottle of Merl's spiced ale followed by Jestin who promised to be back as soon as he had been to check in on his brothers at Balthus's cabin. I was about to follow them out of the room to finish my rudimentary packing when Merl gestured with his hand for me to sit.
"If you will Violet? I would like to speak with you." He smiled awkwardly. It was an unnatural facial expression for him. I went over to bench and sat but not at the spot where Merl had pointed. It was silly, petty really, but I'd had enough of being ordered around. Merl raised his eyebrows, I was certain I heard the word 'nincompoop' escape from under his breath.
"So what do you want to talk about?" I asked.
"Do you remember Violet, the night on the beach, you asked me to begin to trust you a little more?" My interest sparked, I nodded in acknowledgement. "Well there is something I feel it is important that you know and although it pains me greatly to discuss, I feel you must understand the truly psychopathic nature of our enemy."
"Okay." I agreed, feeling uncertain about the look that had swept across Merl's features like a wave that carried pain and grief. He took a bracing breath and then begun,
"As you know Gweniveev was my eldest daughter, Ben
evoly was my second child, but what you do not know, because I have never mentioned her, is that I had a third daughter." He paused and took a deep, bracing breath. "Her name was Pearlip and she died very young for one with magical blood. Although the years she lived spanned centauries, when she died, she had not yet reached adolescence." I drew my own deep breath. How terrible for Merl, he had suffered loss far greater than I could ever begin to understand.
"I'm so sorry Merl." I said softly.
"It is not you that should be sorry, it is me." He said guiltily looking toward the floor.
"You didn't?" I daren't finish the sentence.
"No, it was not by my hand that she died rather it was because of my foolish actions. You see, the curse that was part of the bargain in saving the unborn Merryweather has not only distorted Madge, it has also rippled through the generations of our family and blighted us to this very day. It is the reason Agrona walks amongst us now and before we endeavour to procure a Dragon's scale, I want you to be fully aware of the possible repercussions of the spell." He looked back into my eyes, his gaze now deadly serious.
"Okay, I'm ready." I nodded.
"Very well, when Merryweather was very near the end of her third pregnancy she received an alarming visitor. It was the Washerwoman, the very same woman who had told Madge of the spell all those years before. I was not there during the visit, I had been out to council the tribe leaders on the mainland, but Merryweather was very distressed upon my return.
Merryweather said the Washerwoman had warned her that the curse was not satiated with Madge's transformation and that she had foreseen a vision of a child, born during a bloodied moon, when the sea met the sky and the morning came in crimson. She foretold that the child would embody the curse. She would become a queen of darkness and reign suffering on man and magical-being alike.
Now you have to understand Violet that, although what a Washerwoman predicts is not an exact science and errors can be made, the things she says will always come to pass one way or the other. When that Washerwoman came to our home, I treated what she her words with the upmost respect, perhaps more so than what I should have.
Pearlip was born during a red moon, the very same night a wave crashed into the island that was mightier than any before and in the morning the sun rose in a sky that was as red as blood. Merryweather was terrified that the baby in her arms might become something so abhorrent, so selfish and evil, but being the person she was she could do nothing other than love the babe. I, on the other hand, well I said some things at the time that I am not proud of. I treated Pearlip as an outsider to our family, building her the cabin in the garden when she was old enough to live there alone and warned her sisters against becoming too close to her." Merl paused again and stared into space with a melancholic look on his face.
I tried to imagine him being so cruel to his own blood but I just couldn't, that wasn't the Merl I knew, the Merl who would give anything to be with his family again, who protected me time after time. I caught his eye as he snapped out of his musings and he continued.
"Given the chance I would change everything about the way I treated Pearlip, she must have been so alone, so sad. As Pearlip was not permitted past the boundaries of our home Merryweather would invite the few Bobbin children that lived in the village to play, none of them accepted." He sighed.
"I didn't know Bobbins lived on Fallin Galdur before the gate." I said surprised.
"Yes, many magical beings resided on the island before the gate. It was after the war that they were no longer free to come and go between our worlds as they pleased. There wasn't many but there were some." Merl explained.
"So what happened to Pearlip?"
"She lived a life of loneliness until one fateful day many years later, when a mortal princess was born under the very same circumstances as our own daughter. Her father, the king of the Id tribe had heard of Pearlip's curse. I doubt there was a being magical or human alike that had not, and he sailed to the island with the infant princess, worried that she was bound to the same fate as Pearlip. He begged me to help, to perform a spell or look into the future to see which one of our daughters the curse would befall but that kind of magic is beyond my capabilities. For the king, it was terrible concern, for me it was a horrible revelation but for Merryweather it was a blessed relief. She had always insisted that the prophecy was too vague, that it could be concerning another child altogether."
"So the infant, that was Agrona?"
"Yes." Merl nodded.
"But why was she chosen? Why would the curse touch her rather than the grandchild of the woman who performed the spell." I was confused.
"Nature works in mysterious ways, why one and not the other? I do not know. My best theory is that the village that Madge originated from was the same village in which Agrona was born, perhaps Id royalty are distant relations of Absollon, Merryweather's father. That is merely a theory however. I simply have no way to know for sure, especially as Madge's recollection of her life before the spell grows cloudier with each year."
"It would make sense though, both participants in the spell paying a price. Absollon couldn't pay in the same way as Madge because he never made it back so his family paid instead." I could see Merl's reasoning.
"So what happened, I mean obviously it was Agrona who the curse chose but what happened to Pealip?" I asked.
"After the visit from the Id king I did the best I could to keep a close eye on the Princess Agrona. I promised the king I would visit them regularly until a firm conclusion could be reached with regards to the identity of the cursed child. I created the bookshelf portal from the cabin and on occasion, because she asked and because I felt too guilty to say no, Pearlip accompanied me to the mainland. As the princess grew in human years and Pearlip grew in magical years. They were both young girls at the same time and during our visits, they gradually formed a strong friendship. I should have put an end to it, Merryweather was decidedly uneasy with their alliance. I should never have allowed that friendship to develop but Pearlip found a certain comfort in Agrona that I had robbed from her for so many years before. I thought perhaps if their friendship was strong enough then when the time came that the curse manifested itself within one it was possible that the other might tame the stormy waters within. How wrong I was. The friendship between the two was more detrimental than I could have ever imagined. Pearlip was teaching Agrona things about magic that I did not know she was aware of herself. She was schooling Agrona in the art of potion brewing. I only became aware of this when I went to visit Pearl's cabin and found them in the keepsake under her bed, some very dangerous and harmful potions. Together they were reading books that Pearlip had pilfered from my personal library. The kind of books that contained tremendously dark spells, spells passed down from the very first magical creatures, books that I had acquired to hide rather than read. I believe this is how Agrona acquired the knowledge she needed to become what she is today. " Merl seemed to check his words suddenly and then looked to me for my reaction.
"Understand Voilet, that Pearlip was not a bad girl, reserved, shy and highly introvert but never bad. She was also easily influenced by the young Agrona but Merryweather was the only one with open eyes to what was happening between the two girls. I thought I might have a few more years before the darkness descended upon one of the girls but when the evil arose within Agrona, it was whilst she was still but a child. I suppose her presence within Pearlip's life filled the lonely void that I'd created. I can see now that there were warning signs within Agrona's behaviour, the evil had always been there, I had simply been too stubborn to acknowledge it. I often think back and wonder if I hadn't overlooked the signs, if I had noticed sooner, then maybe just maybe?" Merl trailed off. Putting his head in his hands, the emotional toll of his words was evident.
"You know there's a saying in my world, that you can't fight fate. It means that if something is meant to happen, then it will happen regardless of anything you might do." It wasn't much, I didn't know if I even be
lieved in fate but it was the best wisdom I could offer.
"Perhaps," Merl raised his aged head again, his eyes slightly damper than they usually appeared.
"Agrona made her move a short while after an elderly Bugul Noz was found murdered on the boundaries of Blossomdown. I know now she was using the blood to give her just enough magic to perform the first spell. If she had attempted it as a mortal without the Bugul blood, then she would not have survived the first incision. I will not go into detail but I found Pearlip at the entrance of the portal, her heart had been taken along with some of her possessions. She was still so very young." A tear ran down Merls cheek. It was the first I'd ever seen him cry. He brushed it away with his elongated sleeve and cleared his throat. "One particular possession was a torque. A torque that had been gifted to her by her grandmother Madge, whenever Pearlip wore it she could slow down the events around her. She often used it to venture out into the village without anyone realising she was there. I thought it a frivolous thing, not a jot of use but Merryweather saw its danger. She wanted to take it for safekeeping but Pearlip insisted she would never use it for anything she shouldn't. She'd never asked for anything before then, never questioned us as parents or any of the decisions we made-not even the day we moved her into the cabin. Even I didn't have the heart to deny her something so important to her."
"So Agrona used the torque to slow down time whilst she performed the spell that merged her heart with Pearlips? That's why you took the torque from Agrona on the night at the grave, because you thought that without it she wouldn't be able to complete the spell but she has it now, why didn't you just destroy it?" I realised it was a silly question as soon as the words left my lips, but the frustration I felt was overwhelming.
"Do not be such a nincompoop Violet. If it were that simple I would have destroyed it a very long time ago."
"I know, I know? I'm sorry that was stupid." I conceited.
"Perhaps I should have hidden it better." He sighed, "I admit I had other, more troubling things on my mind."
"Like me." I said. Merl nodded slightly without making eye contact and then he rose, crossed the room and produced his bottle of spiced ale from his drinks cabinet. "So now Agrona has the Moonstone Scythe and the torque, what does that mean? If she attacks again can she take my heart and complete her spell?" An icy fear touched the very depths of my soul. She was ready, her plan had all fallen into place perfectly and now all she needed was the final piece of the puzzle, me. The witch was about to triumph. I ran my fingers through my hair.
Merl began to chuckle, quietly at first and then somewhat erratically. It was a deep, hearty belly laugh; the kind of laugh that I would never have expected from him. I couldn't believe it, we had just spent the best part of a year devising a plan to try and defeat her and now that was all about to fall apart and yet Merl was resting against his drinks cabinet laughing hysterically!
"Merl, this isn't funny." I was beginning to feel a spark of irritation at my amused ancestor. In the dimly lit living room, the shadows cast across his face by the light of the narrow window made him appear maniacal. "We need to go find that dragon before she comes for me." I pointed out in exasperation. "Merl, are you listening? Merl, she will come for me." I could barely hear my own voice over the sound of his laughter.
"No Violet, not you." He calmed a little as he began to speak. "You my child are no longer of any use to her. Not you." He laughed again softly. "Me."
Epilogue
Forge Gate
THE GNARLS GATHERED beneath the balcony of the formidable manor house, tussling with their Worlen prisoners as they attempted to gain a prize spot on the small courtyard below. A ruined statue of King Alphus, the centrepiece to a once well maintained granite rockery, the skeletal remains of the real Alphus hung around the neck of his effigy like a macabre necklace. No one challenged Agrona's authority in Forge Gate, Alphus served as a reminder of that. The disappointed Gnarls who couldn't fit in the courtyard lined the muddied paths that wound down the mountain side. A fight broke out between two of the smaller Gnarls that only came to a conclusion when the smallest Gnarl lost an eye. Their peers, who had stood around cheering during the battle now hissed and spat at the loser before returning their attentions to the captured Worlens.
Forge Gate, the once proud city. A keep built into the mountain by the industrious Worlen people, was now nothing more than a decimated glorified barracks, a place for Agrona to hold her army until she was ready to make her move. Now she had the Moonstone Scythe in her grasp and the torque sat proudly around her neck she should be ready, but she was not. The heir, she had been such an easy target, a blossomed cherry ripe for the picking but now she was ruined. She had been soured with Worlen blood and more powerful for it.
Situated in the Manor house above, Agrona could hear the clanking of the Worlens manacled feet as they struggled to keep pace with their Gnarl captors. Their work-worn leather boots stuck in the mud and sewage of the street. The sound of the manacles gave her peace; chimes of possession- it signalled that they belonged to her, worked for her and soon they would fight for her. Yet, it had been a disappointment that the weak and the young were taken to Blossomdown; if she'd had them here she could have put them to work instead of the strong.
Her army was tired; she had put them to work in the forges and mines of the mountain. They would need time to rest before an attack on the borders of Blossomdown or they would be no good to her. They were stronger than her Gnarls and better fighters certainly, but they were not loyal. They worked out of fear not devotion. They would never love her, not like her wretched Gnarls but she did not want their love. What she wanted was their compliance, their respect and most of all their fear. Love was an unfamiliar thing to her. She despised the idea of love. If she could rid the world of it then she would rip out each and every bleeding heart with a smile on her face.
Long spindly legs scratched at the scarlet, silk-lined wall and broke the witch's musings. Of course, Agrona had seen to it that the Gnarls had broken most of the legs, six to be exact but Sansha Queen of the spinners refused to sit silent.
"Stop that. I cannot abide it." Agrona commanded. The huge brown stinger struck the floor in a gesture of frustration. Another hole was added to a floorboard now speckled with tiny punctures. Sansha's pincers clicked rapidly together, she was cursing in spinnerish. The detained arachnid could speak in the humanoid tongue if she wished but she hadn't uttered a word in it since her capture nor did she intend to.
"Now, now Queen Sansha." Agrona chuckled maleficently as she pushed open the thick wooden doors that led out to the balcony. "Your time will come my dear, your time will come."
The air was cool and damp, as the sweet summer nights gave way to the cool autumn breeze. Thesp's eyes still had not adjusted to the light although his sense of smell was as good as ever.
"Quicken your footsstepsss dog." The ugly little Gnarl who pulled at the iron choker around his neck commanded. Thesp slowed in reaction, the Gnarl might flog him or report him to his commander the one they called Kazimir, the one who's deadly reputation for torture had even the strongest Worlens terrified but they had already done their worst to Thesp. They had separated him from his partner Alsta.
They had put her to work in the deepest part of the mountain mines all hours of the day until she had become but a shadow of her former self. He only caught glances of her now, mere glimpses when they past one another at the mouth of the mine, but they were enough to tell that she was broken. Her raven hair fading to grey despite her moderate years, her deep brown eyes were now black and barren, her sun-kissed skin had become blue and blotched. The woman he knew, the wife he loved, the mother to children Crone and Delpha no longer inhabited the emancipated body of the woman he saw now. She was a spectre, a ghost that had not been permitted to pass beyond for the peace she craved. They could do anything to Thesp now and it wouldn't compare to the torture of those few moments a day as he passed Alsta.
Thesp dragged his feet between the
chains holding them as he rounded the gates of the courtyard.
"Two at a time." A large Gnarl guarding a blue stone archway that served as an entrance to the courtyard barked at the smaller one.
"Come dog, time for a treat." The small Gnarl laughed, tripping as he did so into an auburn-cloaked Gnarl.
"Watch your sstep you weasssel dropping." The Gnarl is the auburn cloak threatened.
"Ssshut your mouth ssslime." The small Gnarl replied grunting with annoyance as they passed into the courtyard. Thesp saw his chance and if he didn't take it now, he might not get another one. He slowed his pace to a near halt. His Gnarl captor reacted by giving a sharp tug on the rope. Thesp felt a sense of relief and excitement wash over him, what he had in mind might just work. He quickened his pace for a couple of steps, spreading his feet as far as the manacles would allow him and then coming to a halt again. The small Gnarl gave a more rigorous tug but this time Thesp moved with the motion causing the small Gnarl to slam into the back of the auburn-cloaked Gnarl. As the auburn cloaked Gnarl pushed back, it caused the smaller Gnarl to lose his footing and his grasp on the chain he was holding. He fell backward with a thump and hit the ground with more force than his tiny stature would have suggested. Thesp fell into the dirt-covered pathway, deliberately taking a few extra steps back as he did so to gain extra space between himself and the small Gnarl.
The stench was vile. Thesp's stomach lurched from the filth and grime that covered his skin and he felt a small amount of bile rise into his mouth. He swallowed it hard and slithered into an offshoot alleyway as a gruesome fight broke out between the small and auburn cloaked Gnarls. Thesp's plan had worked better than he'd thought, the other Gnarls were so distracted by the violence of the conflict before them that not one had noticed the filth-covered, manacled Worlen slip between what had been a bakery and an alehouse. His heart beat with fear and anticipation. Every nerve ending in his body fizzed, this was his chance, and he had to move. Grabbing some of the damp, green moss that meandered up the wall of the alehouse he rubbed it into his reddening wrists, working it under the thick chains until his hand slipped free of them.
There was no way Thesp could escape Forge Gate by following the path down the mountain to the heavily guarded gate, he would have to go up.
Thesp's great grandfather was one of the architects of a tunnel network that carried water down from a high mountain spring. If he hadn't been, if he hadn't shown his grandson his plans night after night as the tunnels were carved into the thick mountain rock then Thesp would run to the south cliff now and jump from the mountain hoping to find his freedom in a different manner. As it was, the entrance to a service tunnel for the network, covered in a thick blanket of ivy, was merely an alleyway from where Thesp now stood. If a Worlen wasn't aware of its presence they would never even know it was there, most didn't but Thesp knew. He'd taken Crone and Delpha into that tunnel to cleanse their sore feet after a hard day's work in the mines once. It would take him just moments to reach the tunnel from his current position even with the manacles that were still attached to his reddened ankles. All he had to do was avoid Gnarl detection and he stood a chance at freedom, at finding his children.
He wondered if they missed him, they must be alive, it was Balthus that came for them, and Balthus would protect them. He was a good Worlen despite of his brother.
Daring a quick glance into the street he had just escaped from, he could see the crowd had grown thicker as the auburn-cloaked Gnarl loomed over the much smaller Gnarl that had been his imprisoner. Instantly, he wished he hadn't as he gazed upon the rows of Worlens who had been chained to various posts and points around the pathway like common household dogs whilst their captors cheered on the fight. There was a brief moment, as Thesp observed his oppressed people that he considered the possibility of staying in Forge Gate. If he hid out in the tunnel network, then he could build a resistance. One by one, he could free his race and they could fight back.
The moment passed as the crowd began to disperse, taking possession of their various charges once again and directing them through the archway to whatever fate the witch Agrona had in mind for them. Thesp knew it would be folly to stay here, until the witch was defeated his kind would continue to suffer. If he wanted to help free his Worlen people then he would need to make his way to Blossomdown, to the wizard Merrydian and Merrydian's heir, it was rumoured that General Jestin was there too but of that, he could not be sure. With a heavy heart and a sense of determined resignation, he turned in his manacles and shuffled off toward the tunnel he'd known since childhood.
Agrona took her place on the balcony, a prime spot above the masses. It was the only place she felt fitting of her station. The Gnarls clapped delightedly as she stepped into view. The Worlens' issued a low murmured growl in a unified show of defiance. Agrona tittered softly at their actions. It was amusing to her that their last stand would be such a pathetic one. She glanced backward into the room where her new servant sat sulking in the shadows.
"Ungrateful little thing." Agrona hissed under her breath. "She should be thanking me, I have made her immortal."
Hearing every word, Elba turned her dead eyes upward to meet Argona's gaze. They were no longer as keen as they had been before. A hideous grey glaze took the place where her emerald green pupils once were. She brought her hands to her head, intending to cover her face them and then dropped them again. She could no longer stand the rancid smell of her brittle green fingernails. Agrona glared at her, daring her to retort. Elba wished she could. She wanted to tear the witch limb from limb for what she had done to her but if she tried to defy Agrona, then the witch had already promised that she would ensure that Elba was locked away. If Elba made a stand, she would be entombed in the smallest of hovels at the end of the world and that would be the truest form of living death that Elba could imagine. She gave Agrona a respectful nod before dissipating into a whirl of black smoke, she would go to the top of the mountain to sit and brood on her monumental error somewhere that she could no longer feel the cold.
With the Moonstone Scythe clasped firmly in her left hand, Agrona strode forward with confidence and purpose. The din of claps and growls diminished to an apprehensive silence. All would hear what she had to say.
"My loyal Gnarls, my servants, I have called you here to bear witness to a new era in our book. I will not let you stand alone in the battle that is ahead of us and make no mistake there will be a battle. The heir is no longer our target, now we must hunt the wizard and this time, we will not be defeated. I will give you the very best of assistance, I will give you slaves, I will give you Worlen. Now my Gnarls take hold of their heads and directed them toward me."
Every Gnarl in the crowd grabbed their assigned Worlen roughly around the nape of the neck and underneath the chin directing them to the balcony above. The sound of snarls and snapping jaws erupted around the courtyard as the Worlens resisted the Gnarls attack. The sound did not last long. Agrona lifted the Moonstone Scythe high into the air. Drawing from the dark energies of the earth, she felt a deep surge of power push through her being and into the scythe in her hand that, in turn, amplified the spell she had cast.
A jet of black light shot into the air like a bolt of lightning, filling the grey sky with energy that then broke and rained down in the form of pointed silver droplets onto the Worlen captives. The knife-like rain made contact with the Worlen skin, piercing through the surface and then transitioning into a liquid that injected into their veins. It rushed like a virus with the Worlens own blood to attack each major organ. As the silver substance infected the Worlen they changed from human form to wolf. With their muscular bodies writhing in pain, they caught the Gnarls and other Worlens around them with their massive claws and teeth. As a grotesque orchestra of hisses, howls, snarls and moans of agony erupted from below, Agrona smiled gleefully at the results of her work. Soon the Worlen would be as submissive to her as her Gnarls. They writhed and squirmed on the ground below knocking some of the weaker Gnarls to the
ground with their sheer bulk.
Agrona waited until the very last Worlen had finished her transition before getting to her feet mechanically. The spark of amber Worlen fire that had once filled her wolf eyes now distinguished and replaced with the same silver substance that had integrated with her brain. She was void, a vessel waiting for orders functioning only on the most basic level for survival.
"My Worlen soldiers." Agrona began projecting her voice way beyond the boundaries of the courtyard. "You are cleansed of your former selves. Gloriously renewed in the name of our cause, your only aim is to fight and die for your master-me. You will kill without thought or discretion upon my command, no matter whom you are instructed to kill. Now my doggies, let me hear you howl your compliance." The sound was both deafening and terrifying as the strongest of the Worlen howled their collective battle cry out into the burgeoning night.
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