Athina turned from the window to watch his unsteady progress. ‘Thank you, Dael,’ she said in her beautiful low voice. ‘But why must you always be carrying such heavy loads? One of these days, you’ll hurt yourself.’
‘I just want to make sure we’re going to be comfortable for the night,’ he protested. ‘We’ll need a good fire, with that storm raging outside.’
She let him dump his basket with a thud beside the hearth, looking at him shrewdly. ‘You don’t have to prove anything to me, Dael. You’re not a slave any more, and you don’t have to work like one. This is your home, here with me, and no one can take that away. You’ve been here half a year now, and we’ve become a family, you and I.’
Dael shook his head. ‘You know, I still can’t believe how lucky I am. I lived my whole life as a slave, I never had a mother - she was sold not long after I was born - and I never knew what it was to have a proper home. To belong.’
Athina smiled. ‘I think we’re both lucky,’ she said. ‘Before you came, I never realised that I was so lonely. Come along: we’ll sit by the fire and mull some wine. On such a dreadful night as this, we may as well be cosy.’
They sat beside the glowing fire, sipping mulled wine, toasting bread on the end of a long, metal toasting fork and passing a crock of honey back and forth between them. When the loaf ran out, they settled back in comfortable silence, looking into the heart of the fire. What a difference Dael has made to my life, the Cailleach thought. Before his coming, I never realised how lonely my existence was.
Dael seemed to share her pleasure in this extraordinary partnership. They would spend hours in conversation about all sorts of inconsequential things. He was delighted to find someone at last who was happy to listen, and she found great pleasure in sharing the outlook of a new, young mind. He delighted in doing things such as fetching wood and water, performing small repairs around the tower, or simply making her a cup of tea. When he told her about his upbringing in a fishing settlement by the sea, she used magic to create a little rowing boat for him, and he loved going out on the lake and fishing with a line. Though she could have done these little tasks much more easily using her powers, she soon came to realise that he enjoyed helping her, and that it was important to his newly burgeoning sense of pride to feel that he was doing his part.
The Cailleach enjoyed Dael’s company more and more. At first she had looked on him as merely an amusing pet, but as the months went by, he grew increasingly close to her heart, until finally she began to understand why the natives of the mundane world set so much store by their offspring. She, who had given birth to worlds, was now discovering the joys of having a son of her own.
To her relief, he had never questioned the magic that brought them so many necessities and comforts in the tower. Since she was clearly not one of the Phaerie, he simply made the assumption that Athina - she had no idea why she had told him her true name, but somehow it had happened - must be a solitary Wizard. And though he was very much puzzled by her disinclination to treat him as a slave, he was too thankful for his own good fortune to place it at risk by questioning the (to him) eccentric behaviour that was making his life so happy.
Though she remained a mystery to him, the Cailleach soon discovered the details of Dael’s miserable short life. He had grown up in Bourne, one of the settlements on the western coast, where the human slaves supported the Wizard community by going out on the ocean to fish. His mother had been sold inland somewhere to pay off her master’s debts while he was still a babe in arms. Dael’s Wizard owner had worked his slaves hard, and Dael had hated him for selling his mother. The greatest tormentor in the young man’s life, however, had been his bullying father, who had finally led the escape of a number of slaves and forced Dael to go with him.
It was clear that the Cailleach’s new companion had never been used to kindness, for it had taken a long time for his suspicion and wariness to recede. Finally, she had managed to half-convince him that this new, happier life would not be taken away from him, but even then he had been pathetically anxious to please her; terrified that he would accidentally say or do something to make her change her mind. As time went on, however, and she neither hurt him nor sent him away, Dael’s confidence began to grow, and these two oddly matched companions became increasingly close.
‘Athina?’ Dael’s sleepy voice broke into the Cailleach’s thoughts. ‘Will you show me some pictures in the fire?’
‘Why not?’ Athina agreed. This was a pastime she had started some months before, when Dael had not been with her for long. The entire point of her coming to this world had been to find the young women of her vision, and warn them, somehow, of the momentous events that were about to be set in motion. That way, there was a fragile hope that some of the damage, at least, might be averted. Unfortunately, Athina had not taken into account that, because she had brought herself into the mundane world, she had become subject to certain of its constraints. She had found it impossible to identify the women she sought, no matter whether she scried by fire, water, mirror or crystal, because the events that would reveal their true identities and destinies had not yet taken place. Her only option had been to keep searching through a multitude of images of the world outside her secret vale, until the people she sought should reveal themselves - and her task was made much more difficult by the growing suspicion and hostility between the cities of Eliorand and Tyrineld, both of which were now protected by magical shields of concealment and illusion against prying, spying eyes.
When Dael had first arrived, his presence had interfered with these activities. Though he was well aware that she had magical powers, how could she explain her constant scrying in search of a small group of strangers? Rather than becoming enmeshed in a web of explanations and lies, Athina had invented the ‘pictures in the fire’ game, a form of scrying that let her search through a multitude of images for those three special women. It had been a simple matter to let him share her visions. He thought he was viewing them with his own eyes, and did not realise that she was slipping them into his mind.
She had also not told him that she had been watching the Wild Hunt. After hearing about the massacre of his brethren, and discovering what Dael himself had been through at the hands of the Phaerie hunters, she had not wanted to distress him further by letting him see them in action again. So she had watched alone, in the depths of the night when he was fast asleep, and when she saw for herself the savage bloodlust and the merciless slaughter of the Hunt, she wondered what had happened to the shining, perfect world that she and her brethren had created so long ago.
Then she had seen Tiolani, and had immediately known that this was one of the Three she sought. Following that recognition had come the dreadful knowledge that this was not the saviour of the world for whom she had hoped. Horror had sheeted like ice across her skin as she became aware of the aura of darkness, cruelty and hatred that shrouded the girl. The death of her beloved brother had twisted the girl’s mind. The incapacity of her father had removed the only member of her family who remained to comfort her, while leaving her with plenty of freedom to seek vengeance and the power with which to accomplish it. To make matters worse, she was being misled by those who pretended to be her friends.
But the worst thing of all about the situation - the one that kept the Cailleach from her sleep each night - was that Tiolani’s intense and abiding hatred of humans knew no bounds. Having embarked on the comprehensive slaughter of the ferals, and executing the human slaves in her realm on the slightest pretext, she was now turning her attention towards the Hemifae. How long would it be before the whole of the Phaerie civilisation collapsed completely? Tiolani was hurtling headlong towards evil, and the Cailleach knew, with a sinking feeling of certainty, that it was already too late to stop her.
One hope lost, then. But what of the others?
For a little while following her dreadful discovery, Athina had no more heart for searching. Instead, she had immersed herself in the pleasure of Dael’s company, and
had occupied her days in pottering around the tower and its environs with this human she had so serendipitously found. Tonight, though she didn’t think much would happen in such foul weather, the Cailleach realised with a pang of guilt that she had been neglecting her search through cowardice, and that this was hardly meet behaviour for one of the Guardians of the world. To salve her conscience, she was more than happy to go along with Dael’s suggestion. Once he had built up the fire, she held her hands out to the smoke and flames that streamed up the chimney and put forth all her powers, casting out from the tower in ever-widening circles to find the ones she sought.
The flames blurred in the fireplace, and were hidden by a glowing golden haze that darkened rapidly into an impenetrable pool of blackness. No vision could pierce that rain and wind, and the cloud-shrouded darkness beneath the trees. Only in the brief lightning flashes could a disjointed series of images be seen. The slanting silver curtain of the downpour. Branches writhing wildly in the gale. A flooded river; a savage, surging mass of foam that swept great chunks of its banks away and tore up trees and bushes that lay in its path. A mighty sycamore split apart by a searing bolt from the churning cloud above.
The Cailleach shuddered at such violence. In her sojourn here she had come to love the forest, and it pained her deeply to see the fallen giants, the broken branches, the leaves torn from the boughs and the rivers and streams overflowing and wreaking such havoc in their path.
For a time, Athina scanned the area around the tower. She didn’t mind keeping up this vigil for hours: roaming around the shadowy glades of the wildwood, widening her circle to take in the busy frontier town of Nexis, trying to penetrate the walls of chimera and enchantment that protected the cities of Eliorand and Tyrineld. Tonight, however, with nothing to see but darkness, downpour and desolation, she rapidly grew weary. ‘Dael, I don’t think there’s any point in going on with this—’
The words died on her lips. In the captured instant of a lightning flash, she saw a skein of brightly clad figures among the clouds: the Phaerie Hunt rode, as she had seen them ride before - but this time, the elements were the hunters, and the Phaerie were the prey. Though they were beyond the leading edge of the storm, Athina knew just how fast those clouds could move. ‘Fools,’ she muttered under her breath. From what she had seen of the Wild Hunt in her months of watching, she viewed its members with anger and contempt. However, she had also seen, with great astonishment and unutterable joy, that their mounts were Xandim - the lost race that she herself had created in the far-distant past, when she and her brethren had spun the world from their imaginations, for nothing more than the sheer joy and fulfilment of practising their art.
Though she had believed, at first, that the Xandim must have some kind of alliance with the Forest Lord, Dael had soon made her think otherwise. On hearing his version of the situation between the Phaerie and their mounts, she realised that the race could only have been enslaved by Hellorin. Enraged as she was, however, the Cailleach knew that she had not come here to right every injustice of this world: that would have been unpardonable interference, and the more she meddled, the more likely her brethren were to find out what she was doing, and move to prevent her. Her only mission was to locate the three from her vision, and do what she could do set them on the right path. So Athina was forced to leave the Xandim to their fate. But it was hard to watch them tonight, being heedlessly ridden into peril by their Phaerie conquerors, for they were innocent, and beautiful and brave, and did not deserve to die.
Suddenly there was a commotion in the ranks of the Phaerie. One of the horses seemed to go mad . . .
Wide-eyed, Athina saw Tiolani’s fall, the ambush of her rescuers and her capture. She saw the horse attack the Huntsman, watched him plummet into the forest below. The hounds, uncontrolled now, scattered to the winds, their instincts telling them to flee the lethal wind and lightning. She saw Ferimon vanish into the clouds in pursuit of the girl’s runaway mount - and there was something about the horse itself, something that drew her attention and set warning bells ringing in her mind . . . But too much was happening all at once; there was no time to look closely before the creature was gone, deliberately hurling itself into the maw of the storm.
Athina cursed loudly, causing Dael to stare at her in mute astonishment. Concentrating, she redirected all her focus towards the missing horse, hoping against hope that it would survive the storm and the wrathful Phaerie; scanning the shadowy depths beneath the trees in the certainty that it would not be able to remain airborne for very long in the face of the violent elements.
After a time of fruitless searching, she was positive she saw something: a glimpse of colour that was surely not a natural part of the forest. Dael had seen it too. He leant forward to peer into the vision in the fireplace as they waited for the next flash and what it would reveal. ‘Was that an animal?’ he said.
In the next dazzle of lightning, Athina saw clearly. Two miserable-looking horses, one a light bay, the other a prettily marked roan that had caught her eye in the first flash. She bit her lip, disappointed. They were Xandim, for a certainty, but they were not the one she sought. They were standing dripping under the outspread boughs of a large pine, and with them, scarcely visible in the shadows near the trunk, was a huddled figure.
They had only time for the briefest of glances before the lightning died away, plunging the image into darkness once more. Athina frowned. ‘Was that one of the Phaerie?’
‘Maybe.’ Dael kept his eyes fixed on the darkness in the fireplace.
‘And were those two beautiful horses the legendary Phaerie steeds I’ve heard about?’
‘Looked like it.’
Athina shot him a searching look. ‘You don’t need to worry, you know. You’re safe with me. They might have had you once, but I’ll never let them take you back.’
Dael managed a smile, but she could see that the sight of the Phaerie had unnerved him. ‘I don’t want to look any more,’ he said. ‘I’m going to bed.’
When he had gone, the Cailleach sighed. Poor Dael, she thought. I hope that in time he’ll come to trust me to keep him safe from his former masters. In the meantime, let me see if I can find out what a lone Phaerie and two Xandim horses are doing in the forest on a night like this. I didn’t notice him leaving the Hunt. I wonder if he has any friends nearby?
It didn’t take her long to find the second stranger. Another Phaerie - a woman this time - with a superb black stallion. The Cailleach frowned. What were they doing out in the forest on such a foul night? They certainly weren’t acting as though they belonged to the Wild Hunt. She scanned further. There - what was that? Amid the trees?
When she looked closer, she saw the faint radiance that had caught her attention: a phantom glimmer of magelight, shining through the walls of one of three tents clustered together in a clearing. A jolt of excitement shot through her. She had finally found one of the three! She used her scrying powers to penetrate the walls of the tent, and saw the young Wizard with the long, dark-red hair talking with a strange young man, in whose features both Wizard and Phaerie were mingled.
Relief flooded through Athina. She had found another of those she sought. And she was absolutely certain that the third woman, the mysterious, unidentified member of the trio, would not be far away.
As she moved her vision away from the tents to scan the surrounding area, the Cailleach finally blundered into the one she was seeking, who was sheltering beneath the overhanging branches of an enormous hawthorn on the edge of the clearing. But wait - surely she must be mistaken? Those weren’t people beneath the tree, but horses. Yet the tingle of recognition was so strong, how could she have made a mistake? She looked again, sending her vision beneath the branches of the tree. Several patient animals stood there, but one of them, the dappled grey . . .
Athina gasped. ‘That’s the one!’
Suddenly everything became clear. ‘That’s why I could never identify her before,’ she muttered. ‘The last thing I looked for wa
s a horse.’ A radiant smile spread across her face. It seemed that the Fates had been hard at work and had managed quite well, for once, without her assistance. But her task was not done yet. The Xandim had been imprisoned in their equine forms for time out of mind, so how could this one possibly influence the future of the world? And what about the other two Phaerie she had seen sheltering, in their separate misery, beneath the trees? She could sense that, in some way, they would be important to the grey mare.
Before she could see what happened, however, the images in the fire became dim and hazy. Athina blinked. ‘It can’t be getting misty out there,’ she muttered. Then, with a jolt, she realised that the haze was not within the Seeing, but was coming from the fireplace itself. Before her eyes, it began to pour out into the room, rising and spinning in the air to form a tall, columnar shape that began to glow with a coruscating radiance, sparkling with a multitude of iridescent hues.
The Cailleach gasped. ‘Uriel!’
‘My sister.’ The voice echoed, deep and resonant, in the vaults of her mind. It was not filled with censure, but with a deep regret.
‘You’ve come to tell me that you and the others want me to go back.’ Athina sighed.
‘Beloved one, you must. When we gave birth to these worlds of ours, we gifted them with self-determination and free will. They are our children, but they must learn and evolve of their own accord. It is not fitting for us to return here, tampering with fate. You know in your heart that this is true.’