Chapter Twenty-Three
28th November
The following morning Stalker was woken early by Shadow's Step to begin their preparations. Fortune wished her luck before heading out for the day and Shadow cooked her a big breakfast.
'You'll be fasting for the rest of the day, so eat plenty now,' he told her, placing a plate full of bacon, toast and eggs in front of her. She tucked in eagerly and tried to focus her attention on the upcoming events, and away from Rhys.
'Talk me through the day,' she requested between mouthfuls.
'We're meeting Ragged Edge this afternoon to begin the rituals. He will test your stamina and discipline and perform a purification ritual,' he said, sitting down opposite her with his own breakfast.
'Why Ragged Edge and not Red Scythe? Isn't he the ritualist?' Stalker asked, her curiosity piqued.
'They both are. It's required for the elders of Odin's Warriors to be well versed in rituals. Ragged Edge used to be the leader, but his prime fighting days are behind him and now he's the chief advisor.'
Stalker nodded, she had been exactly right and felt pleased that her ability to read people was developing well.
'Is that unusual?' she asked. 'For one of our kind to get so old they can't fight any more?'
'Yes. But it's also considered taboo to say such things out loud, Stalker. Mind who you voice that to.' He smiled knowingly at her and she felt embarrassed even though it was just the two of them present. 'Ragged Edge certainly can fight, don't let his advanced years or appearance fool you. That walking staff of his is all for show, he can walk just fine without it and it's a lethal weapon in his hands when the need arises. But he's past the point of going out looking for a fight. It would be a huge dishonour to suggest that he couldn't defend himself well if required to.'
Stalker listened, captivated.
'Generally speaking, shifters live hard and die young, though I'm sure you've noticed we do age more slowly than humans so in theory we could live comparatively long lives if we kept out of trouble. It's rare for anyone to touch a hundred years though, I can think of only a handful in Caerton who are older than Fortune, Ragged Edge is by far the eldest.'
'How has he managed to live so long? Was he just that awesome in his youth?' she asked.
Shadow chuckled.
'He was, and still is, a force to be reckoned with.' His smile lingered and he seemed lost in thought for a moment. Stalker watched him carefully but kept a respectful silence. She felt there was so much more to tell but somehow knew she wouldn't hear it.
'How long have you been one of Odin's Warriors, Shadow?' She spoke softly, breaking gently into his reverie.
'Hmm. A long time, it must be coming up on thirty years. I wasn't anything like as newly changed as you are, it took me a while to find my calling. You've taken to this life so easily and found your place so naturally. I envy you.' He smiled at her and she felt all warm inside. She had her moments of fear and doubt, but she did feel born to this life and as though the world finally made sense to her. She was glad that her perception wasn't wildly inaccurate and was thankful for the reassurances of her mentor.
'Can I tell you something?' she asked him tentatively. She wanted to know that her doubts weren't going to be a problem for her or anyone else and that they would fade with time.
'Of course.' He leaned across the table and listened attentively.
'Both times I've participated in killing now I've felt something afterwards, kind of sad, like remorse or something.' She didn't want to look at him. 'I love the fight, it's amazing. I love what my body can do and I love the feeling of power, but I can't help feeling guilty. Is that normal?'
'Completely. It's normal to feel that way at first,' he smiled softly and patted her hand. 'We're not stone cold killers, in fact killing humans or our own kind is strictly forbidden, unless its self defence.'
'Oh.' Stalker was surprised, though with a moment's reflection she realised she shouldn't be, what he said felt right in her gut.
'We kill demons, elementals and whatever else poses a danger to us or the human world because we have to. Protecting the world from the harm they can do is our responsibility and our sole reason for being. We are predators and they are our prey, just as the fox kills the rabbit, and in time you will learn to feel that way. But it is important that we respect and honour the lives we take.' He stood and cleared away the breakfast things while Stalker considered what he had said. She knew he was right and decided there was no hurry to cast aside her feelings.
'So, what will these stamina and discipline trials involve?' she asked, changing the subject.
'I don't know. There are a selection of options and Ragged Edge could choose any of them for you. Typically they involve physical and mental tests, you might have to walk across hot coals. Once he had an initiate swim across the estuary with weights tied to him.'
Stalker's jaw dropped.
'You're kidding, right?' She knew he wasn't.
'No. But I know that your initiation will take place on Watch territory in Old Town and then at the warehouse in Barrow Market this evening, no where near the coast.' He winked at her and she felt some relief, though the prospect of walking on hot coals didn't thrill her either.
'Who was it who had to do the swimming?' she asked out of curiosity.
'Fire Talon,' Shadow replied. 'The young father you met the other night. He is a member of the Storm Riders, the pack that holds the territory on the coast north of St. Catherine's. They're, well they're all very heavily influenced by the sea and the weather, so it was fitting for him.'
Stalker noticed some hesitation in his voice, some barely concealed negativity. And she called him on it.
'What? What was that about?'
'The Storm Riders keep to themselves mostly. Fire Talon is one of us and he's a fine warrior and good man, I like him. But his pack are... well they're a little odd.'
'Right,' she said mockingly. 'Because Flames-First-Guardian and Wind Talker are so normal.'
Shadow laughed and nodded emphatically.
'You're absolutely right. We really can't judge.'
They laughed together and conversation turned back to her initiation. Shadow's Step explained that when they got to the warehouse there would be a purification ritual involving all of Odin's Warriors, followed by a ritual combat for Stalker.
'Who will I have to fight?' she asked nervously.
'A volunteer,' he replied. 'It could be anyone. Well, almost anyone, myself, Ragged Edge and Red Scythe are prohibited from stepping up. Them because they are the group's elders, and me because I'm your mentor and your petitioner for entry and have a conflict of interests.' He grinned at her. 'Don't worry, you'll be fine. You're ready for this and it's not a fight to the death or anything.'
'What happens if I lose?' She didn't want to go through all of the rituals and tests only to be bested at the last hurdle and refused entry on the basis of one bad fight.
'It doesn't automatically exclude you from joining. A decision will be made based on your overall performance.' He watched her for a moment as she struggled with the idea of failing. 'Don't worry. I'm sure you will do well. It won't be easy, they wouldn't be trials if they were easy, but I know you and I know you can do this. Though discipline may be an area that lets you down.' He scowled mockingly.
Stalker sulked but knew he was right, she was undisciplined at times despite all of her martial arts training; she was wilful and spontaneous. But she was dedicated to improving herself and was extremely competitive. She had applied herself to martial arts training since she was a young girl and risen to be one of the best in the country, so she knew she could accomplish anything if she set her mind to it. So it was with that determination that the two of them set out to meet Ragged Edge in Old Town at midday.
Shadow led her to a secluded old house away from the hubbub of the lunchtime rush, it had Tudor accents but had clearly been renovated at some point, and was surrounded by a well tended garden with high walls, afford
ing it a great degree of privacy.
Ragged Edge met them at the door and greeted them warmly.
'How are you?' he asked, placing an arm around her shoulders and leading her into the dim, narrow hallway.
'I'm nervous, but excited,' she replied and Ragged Edge released his arm from her shoulders and gave her a gentle pat on the back.
'That sounds appropriate,' he smiled. She felt strongly that she was going to grow to be very fond of this grizzled old dog, who already felt much like a father or grandfather to her. 'We're going to cross the veil.'
Shadow squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.
Ragged Edge picked up his staff from behind the door. He pounded the floor with it twice and then disappeared in a twist as he stepped across the veil.
'Where are we anyway? Is this his house?' Stalker whispered to Shadow.
'Stalker, we may be on vaguely friendly terms with some members of the Watch but we certainly don't lead each other right into our places of power or personal abodes, that would be beyond foolish,' he chastised her. 'Come on, he'll be waiting for us.'
With a huff of resignation, Stalker closed her eyes and calmed herself. She took a deep breath and focussed on feeling the delicate veil that separated the human world from Hepethia. She could sense it ripple around her at her will and with an edge of excitement she stepped eagerly. She felt the world twist at her navel and her foot landed awkwardly, her eyes flew open and she found herself in Hepethia, swaying slightly with the dizziness that often accompanied crossing the veil. Ragged Edge stood before her and offered a hand to steady her, which she took gratefully. He was smiling warmly, no trace of derision or disapproval.
'Thank you,' she whispered and suddenly Shadow was at her side.
She looked around and saw that the house looked almost exactly the same, just a little darker. Ragged Edge led them immediately outside into the garden, which was equally well cared for on this side and almost identical to its human world counterpart. The light was different and the shadows seemed to twitch and shimmer, but otherwise it seemed normal. Before them was a coffin-sized wooden box and a very deep hole in the ground. Stalker felt a wave of nausea and panic rise hard and fast in her chest as she realised what was going to happen. Shadow took her hand and squeezed it.
'You'll be fine,' he whispered at her ear.
'Your stamina and discipline trials have been combined. You will be entombed for six hours, or until you give in to the beast and claw your way out,' Ragged Edge spoke in a commanding tone. 'You may call upon whatever reserves, powers or affinities that you feel may help you.' His voice softened and he gave her a reassuring nod as he held his hand out to indicate that she should step into the box.
'Six hours? What about oxygen?' she asked, the alarm evident in her shrill voice.
'The box is enhanced to provide unlimited air to breathe,' Ragged Edge explained.
Stalker swallowed hard and looked imploringly at Shadow. She didn't want to do this. Every fibre of her being screamed against it and she seriously considered making a run for it. Over Shadow's shoulder the light shifted and caught her attention, a flicker of darkness where there shouldn't have been any and she recognised Pursuit-of-Midnight-Solitude. The panic abated and she felt comforted, she knew that she would not be alone in the black.
With a slightly more confident smile she walked to the box and climbed inside.
'Good luck,' Shadow said softly. He watched her from the edge of the pit, the worry clear on his face and it was her turn to give him some reassurance with a nod and small smile.
Ragged Edge closed the lid and hammering began as he and Shadow nailed the coffin shut. Stalker took some deep breaths and closed her eyes to listen to the rhythmic knocking of metal on nail and wood. When she opened her eyes there was just a tiny hint of light creeping in through the crack around the rim of the box and she allowed her eyes to adjust. Moments later, however, the whole box moved and she felt herself being lifted and then lowered into the pit.
As the first few thuds of earth hit the lid of the box she felt her pulse quicken and dust rained in on her. She just about had enough room to lift her hands to her face to cover it from the falling dirt and she coughed hard against it.
The tiny slither of light disappeared and the sounds of earth being shovelled in on top of her grew more distant. The panic took hold of her and she started to shake. She was being buried alive. A scream rose in her throat and threatened to break out through her clenched teeth but it became a strangled throaty sound as she battled the fear with her will.
She closed her eyes and drew some shaking breaths, willing her muscles to unclench. Her jaw remained resolutely locked even though her body was starting to relax and she let her breath out through her lips with a soft “whoosh” sound. A few more breaths and relaxing humming sounds finally released the tension from her face and she lay quietly in the dark.
After a while she couldn't tell if her eyes were open or not and the silence was deafening. She had no sense of time or place and she drifted in and out of awareness. She could feel the darkness around her, it should have been oppressive but she felt at one with it and knew that Pursuit-of-Midnight-Solitude was protecting her.
'They aren't going to dig you out, you know,' a silky voice whispered at her ear. Her eyes popped open and she twisted towards the voice. It was pitch black but she knew a demon was with her, probably a fear demon.
'Go away,' she hissed.
'You will lie here forever, you will suffocate soon and then you will rot here,' the voice went on. Stalker began to shudder. 'Do you know what the fae of earth and demons of decay do to fleshlings who die in Hepethia?'
Her heart thumped hard in her chest as the voice taunted her. She started to give in to the doubts and her body trembled with fear. Stalker lifted a hand and touched the wood above her face, pressing her palm against it. It was warm, it was real wood, cut from a living tree, it was part of the earth, part of where she was now and so was she. That word the demon used was meant to be derogatory, but “fleshlings” was the word she clung to. She was a flesh being, he was a demon. She was a part of the world and could interact fully with it. He could not. He was trapped here in Hepethia, forbidden to cross over into the world of flesh and any attempt to do so would be met with deadly, shifter force.
She smiled, hoping he could see then closed her eyes and returned to her meditative state.
As the time passed, Stalker began to feel cramping sensations in her legs and arms that shook her from her peaceful meditation. Her right leg jerked reflexively and thumped against the side of the box, the sound completely broke her focus and she was brought crashing into the present. Her leg twitched again, this time her foot slammed against the end of the box and she felt it splinter.
'No!' she yelled and tried to get control of her limbs. She knew that if she broke out of the box it was over and she would not ruin this test because of stupid muscle spasms. Her leg betrayed her and broke into a full cramp and she screamed in agony and frustration. Her knee jerked up towards her chest and the box shuddered, spilling dirt in through the narrow cracks. There wasn't room for her to double up the way her body was reflexively trying to and it took all of her self control to force her leg to stay straight. She pushed back against the end of the box, trying to simulate standing on her cramping leg, the way she would relieve the cramp if she were free to move.
It wasn't working and she groaned with the stress of the situation. She stamped her foot hard, knowing it might splinter the box further, but hoping that she could stamp out the cramp without inadvertently breaking out of the box and bringing the test to an end.
With a few hard stomps and some ominous cracking noises the cramp abated and the box remained intact. Stalker's calm was shattered though and she felt increasingly claustrophobic. She shifted her body around uncomfortably and tried to focus her breathing again, but the damage was done and the discomfort only continued to mount.
Stalker exclaimed in frustration, growling
, snarling and thumping on the lid of the box. She refused to give in, she refused to tear her way out, though she knew full well that she could do so at any time if she shifted into her Agrius form.
With a great effort she reined in her frustration, breathed deeply and concentrated on embracing the darkness, eventually she was able to grow still on the outside, even if her mind continued to race and her pulse remained elevated.
Those last minutes or hours, she had no idea how long, took an age to pass but pass they did. She heard the sounds of earth moving above and muffled voices began to break through. She fought the urge to cry out for help, she knew that she had to hold it together for those last few moments and as the lid was ripped up from above her and fresh air rushed over her it was all she could do not leap from the pit.
She grasped Shadow's extended hand and he pulled her up, she scrambled hurriedly from the pit and into his arms without so much as a whimper, though she shook all over. It was dark, night had fallen and thick purple clouds rolled overhead, obscuring the nearly full moon from view. The eerie sounds of Hepethia could be heard quietly in the distance and yet everything seemed loud and bright to her.
'It's okay. It's over. You did so well,' Shadow whispered in her ear.
'Is she all right?' Ragged Edge spoke softly somewhere nearby, Stalker couldn't move her head but she heard the genuine concern in his voice.
'I'm fine,' she murmured, trying to find her normal voice and failing. She cringed at the crack and waiver that she heard in it. 'Just give me a minute,' she managed to say in a more controlled tone.
Shadow stroked her hair and she breathed deeply. It was over. She had survived and she had kept control over the beast. She couldn't know for sure how her performance would be judged, but as far as she was concerned, she had passed the first test.