The Inner Circle: The Knowing

  *

  They’d been riding for a long time and Seteal’s lower back hadn’t waited long to start complaining. The fact that it had drizzled all night didn’t help either. She rubbed her hands vigorously. The landscape to the west remained shrouded in darkness, but Seteal knew the area well enough to determine that Elmsville was only a few miles away. Her father would ordinarily be up reading the Holy Tome over breakfast.

  Few people read the Tome anymore and even fewer placed any real value in its writings, but Gifn had always believed--or, perhaps, chosen to believe--that the ancient texts were the true word of Maker. Seteal gazed at the woodlands to the east where a gentle morning glow filtered through the branches of hundreds of naked trees.

  Exhaustion would’ve long ago driven Seteal to beg for respite, had she not been so determined to show no weakness. The three of them had walked and then ridden many miles throughout the night. Surely that was a great enough feat for anybody. Seteal glanced at El-i-miir and was pleased to find that she too looked weary.

  As the sun peeked sleepily over the horizon, Seteal recalled a nursery rhyme her mother had used to sing. It was such vague memories of her mother that led to wondering why her father hadn’t told Seteal the truth . . . if indeed it was the truth. The memories faded and her thoughts became indistinct. Seteal was overwhelmed by emptiness and knew nothing, was nothing . . . and then knew something else. The elf owl was following them.

  The knowing fled as abruptly as it occurred. Seteal regained awareness of her surroundings.

  ‘Far-a-mael,’ she called out to the stooped figure seated atop the leading horse. ‘Or Gil’rei, or Gil, or whatever it is.’

  ‘Yes?’ He glanced over his shoulder but didn’t slow down.

  Seteal had to raise her voice over the wind. ‘We’re being followed by the seeol.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ The Gil’rei ceased abruptly and spun his horse to face her. ‘Is this a knowing?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Seteal shrugged. ‘You’re the ones who call it that, not me. It is what it is. I know it’s following us and that’s all there is to it.’

  ‘She’s right.’ El-i-miir nodded confirmation, stopping her horse beside Darra. ‘Something is wrong, but it could be anything. How can you tell that it’s the seeol?’

  ‘I thought you couldn’t sense it?’ Seteal said questioningly.

  ‘Knowing something is wrong in the Ways and seeing a being’s soul are two very different things.’ Far-a-mael snorted, shaking his head at her ignorance. ‘We cannot know it’s the creature, but we can tell that the Ways have been disturbed. If the seeol is tracking us, as you say, we must make greater haste.’

  ‘We’re east of Elmsville,’ Seteal reminded the old man of his promise. ‘I have to see my father before we continue.’

  Far-a-mael grunted dismissively and turned his horse northward. ‘Perhaps.’

  ‘You promised,’ Seteal demanded, only to be ignored. ‘Old fool,’ she grumbled and turned her horse westward.

  ‘Have you no idea what I could teach you if only you’d show a little respect?’ Far-a-mael fixed her beneath his stony expression and set his horse at a trot beside hers. ‘Perhaps I should demonstrate.’

  ‘Look, I get it,’ Seteal crumbled beneath his glare. ‘You’re in charge and I’m sorry, but I cannot let this rest. I have to see my--’ She gasped as the deepest sorrow wracked her body. She spiralled into a world of darkness. She drifted in the very bowels of torrid, where she burned for all eternity in fiery torment. She mourned as her mother’s death became new, the whisp’s cold hands embracing her. She screamed as her soul shuddered and rippled before snapping into the cruel company of death. Death. The agony bored into Seteal’s heart, ceasing only when she was a quivering mass of tears, her face buried in Darra’s mane.

  ‘That, I can teach you,’ Far-a-mael stated. ‘Your lessons begin tomorrow.’

  ‘But my father,’ Seteal rasped, lacking the strength to do much more than hold onto her horse.

  ‘There’s no time,’ Far-a-mael said with finality.

  ‘But . . . ’ Seteal whimpered, weakened by his assault.

  ‘There’s no time,’ Far-a-mael repeated. ‘You simply don’t understand the gravity of your situation. You’re too weak. Invading your aura was far too easy. You’re much further along than I realised. We cannot allow for any more delay. We must return to the Frozen Lands immediately.’

  ‘But you promised,’ Seteal pleaded. ‘Father will be worried.’ She sounded like a snivelling child, but unable to withstand the weight of sorrow Far-a-mael had injected into her aura, Seteal found herself quite unable to muster up a steadier voice.

  ‘As I’ve told you before, you’ll be able to reach him by letter once we’ve reached the Frozen Lands,’ Far-a-mael insisted with a condescending shake of his finger. ‘With Mister Eltari’s knowledge of the Elglair, I’m sure he’ll appreciate the urgency of your situation and look forward to seeing you on your return.’

  Seteal opened her mouth only to discover that she was too exhausted to speak. Cold and numb, she rested her head and became lost in the rocking motion of her horse.

  At midday the travellers stopped to eat some dried mammoth meat, something Seteal had never tried before and was in no hurry to do so again. El-i-miir sat beside her, perhaps hoping to make conversation, but tired and confused as to whether she was a prisoner or a guest of honour, Seteal looked away and stewed on her suspicions.

  Warmth tickled the back of Seteal’s neck and slithered along her spine. She remembered the scent of summer and her mother smiling. Her eyes . . . her eyes. Her perfume. Seteal raced through the fields outside with her father. She heard herself giggling and smiled. The sun touched her cheek and with it she felt an eruption of laughter escape her chest. Everything was going to be fine after all. Her father would understand.

  Seteal gasped and turned aggressively to face El-i-miir. ‘Cut it out,’ she said through clenched teeth. The cold wind bore into the back of Seteal’s neck and her spine ached against the tree on which she leaned. Her hands were frozen solid. And she was angry.

  ‘I was just trying to help,’ El-i-miir muttered apologetically as the remaining traces of soothing emotion fled Seteal’s consciousness. ‘You seemed sad.’

  ‘I am sad,’ Seteal replied irritably. ‘I’m sad because it’s appropriate that I be so. Don’t . . . don’t do that again. You have no right. Stay out of my head.’

  ‘Fine.’ El-i-miir got to her feet. ‘I was just trying to make you a little more comfortable, but go ahead and feel miserable if that’s what you really want,’ she muttered over her shoulder and walked away.

  ‘Get up.’ Far-a-mael’s voice shattered Seteal’s dream and her eyes popped open. She’d fallen asleep. ‘It’s coming. We have to go,’ he said urgently.

  Seteal hurried over to Darra and hefted herself into the saddle. She had no desire to reencounter the creature they’d met the night before. If that meant riding beyond the point of exhaustion, so be it.

  In the hours that followed, Seteal passed the time by looking from Far-a-mael to El-i-miir and back again. The longer the Elglair rode, the grimmer their expressions became. The seeol was closing in.

  It was late afternoon when El-i-miir broke the silence. ‘Look,’ she said softly as they approached the halfway point across an open field. Seteal glanced back in the direction from which they’d come and sure enough, there it was.

  The elf owl stared at them from its perch atop a tree stump protruding from the long grass. Seteal didn’t have any great knowledge of avian behaviour, but as far as she could tell, the little bird was tired. It was scarcely able to keep its eyes open and had puffed out its feathers in an attempt to keep warm.

  ‘It’ll need to rest eventually,’ Far-a-mael muttered more to himself than to anyone else. ‘We’ll travel until sunset. It doesn’t look as though it can handle much more.’

  Seteal moaned inwardly, identifying with the bird, doubting that she could ha
ndle much more either.

  Hoping that keeping her mind occupied might help in taking it off the chilled air, Seteal moved her horse next to El-i-miir’s and made an attempt at conversation. ‘So what is it with you?’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘You seem so . . . hostile.’ Seteal shrugged. ‘I mean, except for before when you were doing whatever it was you were doing to make me feel better.’

  ‘It’s not you, Seteal. It’s where you come from and how you came to be here. I was expecting a monster.’ El-i-miir shrugged her shoulders. ‘You’re the child of an illegitimate marriage.’

  ‘Excuse me?’ Seteal tilted her head defensively. ‘My parents had as much right to marriage as anyone else.’

  ‘Look, I’m sorry.’ El-i-miir sighed. ‘It’s just wrong. Elglair should be with Elglair and that’s all there is to it.’

  Seteal frowned. ‘What a stupid thing to say.’

  ‘Perhaps you’re right,’ El-i-miir murmured without conviction. ‘I suppose I’m a little biased against you. The way Far-a-mael has been obsessing over you lately, he’s neglected my lessons and I’m falling behind.’

  ‘Far-a-mael has been obsessing over me?’ Seteal asked.

  ‘Oh, you have no idea the kind of favours he had to pull to come out here.’ El-i-miir nodded at Far-a-mael’s back.

  ‘But I’ll die if I’m not trained properly.’ Seteal pulled back in disgust. ‘Your superiors had no objection to that?’

  El-i-miir inhaled sharply and cast her eyes toward the earth. ‘Seteal,’ she said after a long pause, ‘you shouldn’t judge people before you get to know them.’

  ‘I’m sorry?’ Seteal sniffed. ‘You were the one judging me.’

  ‘Conserve your energy and stop that mindless blathering!’ Far-a-mael shouted back from a little way ahead.

  ‘Look, just forget I said anything,’ El-i-miir mumbled, moving her horse away from Seteal’s.

  At dusk, a road appeared in the distance that Seteal recognised as the one leading from Gor to Beldin. Deciding that the roadside was as good a place as any to make camp, Far-a-mael called for them to stop and Seteal slid gratefully from her saddle. She was cold and hungry. She was miles from home, fearful for her life, and not sure who she could trust. Seteal had never felt more alone and had absolutely no idea of what to do about it.

  CHAPTER THREE

  SEEOL