The stick met wood and clicked against spokes. Ah, they’ve got a coach ready. Arviû went a little farther and was surprised to find a total of eight vehicles apparently made ready for an expedition. That’s quite a wagon train, but Païcalor didn’t mention the Inextinguishables were going on a journey.
In the distance he heard the clink of metal on metal, the creak of leather, the sound of voices.
The sounds were getting closer and he decided on an impulse that he should hide. Perhaps I can find out what they’re planning? Arviû only had a rough idea of the layout of the stables, but he managed to locate a bale of straw to hide behind.
“. . . the sighted guards will leave today,” said a female älf voice. “It’s essential nobody finds out what is happening in the Bone Tower. Load up the extra cart with the Siblings’ most valuable belongings and make sure everything is properly covered by the tarpaulins so no one can see what is being transported. Nobody must know the rulers are leaving. The wagon train must look as if it is supplies for Tark Draan, like the earlier transports.”
“Of course. We’ll take care of that.” Arviû thought the other voice sounded like a warrior. “I’m assuming the destination is the crater?”
“Yes. They want to visit the troops and make an appearance at the very spot the Creating Spirit’s tear fell to earth.”
The warrior gave a short laugh. “Anyone would think the Inextinguishables were not just visiting Tark Draan. It sounds like they want to move there for good.”
“What makes you say that?” The female voice sounded suspicious.
“My people have been taking wagon train after wagon train to Tark Draan ever since the campaign started. We were never allowed to tell anyone. I know it was supposed to be a surprise for our troops, but . . . Ergàta, there’ve been around fifty carts so far. And this train has eight more. What am I supposed to think?”
“It’s for a visit. That’s all it is,” she answered curtly.
The warrior sighed. “Is it to do with the dorón ashont?”
Ergàta laughed. “No, certainly not, Sajùtor! Our army will soon have eliminated them.”
The names were new to Arviû, but apparently they were both in the service of the Inextinguishables. Strange. Very strange.
“Why are the rulers leaving Dsôn Faïmon?” Sajùtor demanded to know. “Please tell me. If there’s trouble on its way I want to warn my family.”
“Are you completely insane? They are not abandoning the homeland. They are going to give their blessing to the foundation of a second älfar realm. Nothing further has been decided.”
“So, what’s with all the secrecy?”
“The population here will think exactly as you obviously do,” Ergàta snapped. “Their visit has been planned for ages. It’s unfortunate it comes at such a turbulent time.” She turned. “Ah, Païcalor.”
“I heard you talking and wondered if I could be of any assistance?”
“No,” she said. “Sajùtor was about to go and brief his soldiers. He has always given excellent service and is likely to receive praise from the Inextinguishables once he has escorted the last consignment to Tark Draan.”
“I was just going, was I?” Sajùtor sounded annoyed at her presumption.
“Yes. And be careful, as always.”
Someone left and it went quiet.
Did Païcalor go, too? Arviû could not hear the others anymore and was about to emerge from his hiding place when he heard Païcalor say, “A good thing no one else has been told.”
“The excuse about a royal visit is a bit thin.” Ergàta sounded concerned. “There’ll be rumors.”
“They should have fled a long time ago to be sure of avoiding the sickness. These parasites are more dangerous than we originally thought. Even Bolcatòn has died, and he was so convinced he was safe.” Païcalor knocked on wood. “I’m as glad as you are to be permitted to leave Dsôn, but the people won’t understand.”
“It’s essential for the future of our race! What use is it if we hang on here in Dsôn Faïmon and all die?” Ergàta was pacing up and down. “I support this move wholeheartedly, even though it brings me pain. The Inextinguishables and the älfar who accompany them will be safe from the parasites and they can found a new city. They’ll only make contact with Dsôn Faïmon once the plague is over.”
“All the älfar will want to follow them.”
“No. Nagsor and Nagsar Inàste will issue an edict to the effect that no one may follow them. It’s as simple as that.” She fastened a strap. “No one would dare disobey an order from the Inextinguishables. And if anyone did, our archers will pick them off at the Stone Gateway and ensure they meet endingness.” It sounded as if she had taken Païcalor by the arm. “You have to understand: they are doing all this for our sake, for our future, for the survival of the race! If things go well there’ll be two prosperous and successful älfar realms.”
“You’re quite right. The Siblings will have considered the options carefully. They have insight and vision.” Païcalor sighed. “It is hard to leave so much behind.”
“Count yourself fortunate that we’re allowed to tag along.” The female älf was moving away, Arviû could tell. “We will form the foundation of a new empire, my friend. Who knows what splendid children you and I will have together.”
But Païcalor won’t be able to see that. Arviû had to think about what he had just learned. The sickness the dorón ashont had brought them was out of control and the Sibling Rulers were leaving the homeland in secret so as not to become its next victims.
Arviû had to agree with what Ergàta had said: Nagsor and Nagsar Inàste were demonstrating their far-sightedness. It was a perfectly legitimate way of proceeding. But there will be panic when it becomes known that they have left.
He could imagine what would happen: as the numbers of plague deaths rose in the radial arms, the inhabitants would become extremely frightened. And the more frightened they were, the more they would try to find safety. They would want to go to their rulers. But the älfar of Dsôn Faïmon would find their emigration ending abruptly at the Stone Gateway. They would either be forced to turn back or they would be shot.
Arviû let his breath out. In the name of all infamy!
“I can hear you breathing!”
Arviû ducked and dodged as a pitchfork pierced the hay bale next to him.
“You’ll never learn, will you?” The fabric of Païcalor’s robe rustled as he surged forward.
He will want to kill me because I know their secret. Arviû dropped to the floor, holding his cane upright where he expected the attack. The sharp end of the stick went through the guard’s foot as he jumped. Païcalor uttered a cry of pain.
Height, location, distance! Arviû retrieved the needle-dagger from his belt and hurled it, his aim deadly accurate.
The scream turned abruptly to a death rattle as Païcalor slumped to the straw-strewn floor. Silence.
Now Arviû was left to decide how to best use his newly acquired forbidden knowledge.
Tark Draan (Girdlegard), south of the Gray Mountains, Enchanted Land of Hiannorum,
4371st division of unendingness (5199th solar cycle),
winter.
As soon as he rode into the Valley of Grace, Simin realized that the place name no longer held true.
The trees had withered and their dead foliage lay scattered on a layer of snow. Statues crumbled with every gust of wind. The spell Hianna the Flawless and her pupils had sustained no longer existed. Now, for the first time, the valley had to bend to the laws of nature. The oasis of happiness had gone.
It’s that pact she made with the älfar. Simin did not try to hide; he galloped toward the three towers.
The buildings had aged by whole cycles in the past few days. The wood of the bridges was rotten and shingles were missing. Carrion crows and ravens flocked, screeching, above the broken roofs. The birds of death had taken over the dovecotes.
The crows are everywhere. Simin reached the towe
rs and saw the reason the birds had sought out this valley: corpses.
The bodies of the young famuli lay in the snow at the foot of one tower. He glanced up and saw they must have been pushed through the glass windows. Although sharp beaks had already hacked away at the tender flesh, he could see that blades had also been used; in some cases whole limbs were missing, cut off cleanly.
Did Hianna kill her own students? “Hello?” he called, his voice echoing up and down the little valley. Crows hopped out of his path, flapping their wings and squawking at him. “Is anybody there?”
A door banged in the wind, and the snow whirled about him. One of the roof tiles crashed down onto the frozen ground and made his horse startle.
Bringing the animal swiftly under control, he dismounted to inspect one of the bodies more closely.
The young woman could not have been dead long because her body was not frozen. She had died through a stab to the heart and her eyes had been neatly removed with a knife. It looked like a surgeon’s work.
The poor girl! He got back up to his feet and began to explore the empty buildings.
Inside the towers there was no sign of disorder, plundering or arson. Occasionally he noted the scorch marks caused by failed spells. There must have been a chase, a hunt. He pictured Hianna chasing her charges through the buildings, driving the girls on with magic spells and laughing as she cut them down, one by one.
No. That’s not the way she would work. It makes no sense at all. Simin avoided stepping on the rotten bridges between the dilapidated towers. Instead, although it would take much longer, he used the external staircases. Why would Hianna do such a thing? Wouldn’t she try to get her famuli on her side rather than killing them? And she would surely not have condemned her Valley of Grace to decay.
He continued to look around in the buildings—and found Hianna herself lying in front of an open window. There was snow on her back and a raven perched on her shoulder, pecking away at her earring.
Is it her? Simin could see she was surrounded by tiny triangles of sharp wire. There was a pool of blood around her face. None of his theories about events in Hiannorum fit this picture. He approached the body cautiously, sweeping the barbs aside with the toe of his boot.
The raven squawked, almost as if to stop the magus, then flew out of the window, complaining loudly about being deprived of its booty.
Simin observed the dead woman. “Was that the reward for your treachery? Did the älfar not trust you?” he said, speaking low. “What happened here in the valley?”
He heard a quiet whimpering.
It took him some time to realize that the sound was coming from Hianna. “Ye gods! Still alive?” Simin hesitated, not knowing what to do. Is it safe to heal her or not? The whole region was saturated with magic: he was powerful enough to tackle her if need be. I have to know what happened. And what you have done. When I’ve learned that, I will let you die as you deserve.
He lifted her up and carried her to the nearest bedchamber, then lay her down on a velvet couch. He placed two fingers on her brow.
His first spell was to diagnose the extent of her injuries. It told him she had been the victim of a strong poison that was destroying her inner organs. I don’t know this toxin. She had also been exposed to the cold; she had frostbite on her face and on her fingers. She was severely dehydrated.
Simin brought up a series of spells to neutralize the poison, stop the destruction and repair the damage to her organs. Then he dealt with the frozen extremities. To warm her he lit a fire in the grate.
Finally he sat down opposite her in an armchair to wait. From time to time he made a spell to check her progress and increased the healing power where necessary.
This poison is a tough one, he said to himself. As it was a toxin he had never met before, this strengthened his assumption that it had been älfar who had wreaked this destruction on the Valley of Grace. The question of why they might have done this would have to wait for Hianna to wake.
Simin was reluctant to leave her alone, but hunger drove him down to the kitchens. He returned with bread, cheese and a jug of wine. There was no need to carry water upstairs. He brushed some snow from the windowsill rather than going to the well. And, of course, the well might be poisoned.
A whole day passed without the maga opening her eyes, but her breathing was becoming stronger and Simin could tell the healing process was working steadily. Still, many spells would be needed to restore the health of her inner organs. The toxin clearly had terrible effects on humans.
It was not until the third day that Hianna coughed herself awake.
Simin shot up out of his doze. Getting to his feet, he gathered his concentration in order to be able to fend off a potential magic attack. “At last!”
“Where—?” She struggled to sit up, supporting herself on the upholstered armrest. Then she put her hands to her temples. Her face was covered in tiny cuts left by the wire barbs. The poison had left small black spots on her skin: a souvenir of the death she had so narrowly escaped. “I—” She moaned. “It all hurts. Everything hurts.”
“Your organs have still got to heal completely. You were poisoned with something that has been destroying you from the inside,” he explained, but he was impatient to find out the truth. “Did you kill your students? Or was it the älfar you had a pact with, wanting to have all the magic lands—”
Hianna sobbed and hid her face in her hands. “How could I ever have believed I would be able to deceive those evil beings?” she said, her voice thick with tears. “I brought about the deaths of all of my famuli! I should have died too, so that they would not have to go to the other side without me!”
“Did you—?”
“No. It was an älf. Before he slaughtered my girls he told each of them that their death came bearing the name Virssagòn.” Hianna became hysterical. “And I thought I was such a good actress!”
Simin started to relax somewhat. He was convinced now that Hianna was not pretending. The loss of her students was affecting her deeply. However, he resolved to continue to exercise caution. “I was in the Gray Mountains and I saw you talking to the älfar. Explain yourself.”
Raising her head, she looked at him with reddened eyes. “Famenia came here and told me everything. She told me that Ortina had been killed by the älfar. We decided it would be best if I pretended to offer my services as an ally so that I could find out more about them and also about the demon. A female älf, Morana, appeared here in my valley and offered me a pact. I was sure I had been able to fool her. I wanted to write to the others about what I had learned about the älfar, but then this—” Her lip quivered and she wrung her hands as a cascade of tears set in once more.
Simin relinquished all caution and sat down next to her, putting his arms around her shoulder. “You have been braver than I have,” he murmured. “And you have paid a high price for your courage.”
“He killed them,” she whimpered. “O, ye gods! I lay there helpless! I heard their screams and the terrible sounds of his weapons as he cut up their bodies . . . and then . . . it all went so horribly quiet!” Hianna clung to him.
Simin sat by, silent, holding her tight; she could not stop crying. He did not doubt her words. There would come a time when he could ask for a more detailed report of events.
The sun went down behind the hills, turning the sky dark red.
Suddenly Hianna shuddered. “I have lost so much. No one else in Girdlegard must ever suffer what I have gone through,” she said, her voice stronger now. “But that’s exactly what the älfar and their hideous allies intend. I have learned a great deal about their plans.” She lifted her face and wiped away her tears.
“And I have information about the demon,” Simin said. “I can cast a banning spell to stop him spreading his undead power over our homeland. If we can stop him we will have made enormous progress. We can do this together!” He embraced her once more. “I am so sorry about what you have gone through . . . and I am sorry that I thought you h
ad abandoned us for the enemy.”
“I understand.” Hianna freed herself from his embrace. “I know you came here in order to kill me.”
“Yes. I could not let the älfar take one of us as an ally alongside the demon.”
“I sent messengers to warn the others, Grok-Tmai and Fensa. Virssagòn won’t score any more successes.” Hianna got up and took a piece of bread from Simin’s plate. “I must eat to get my strength up again, then I’ll come back with you. Us four and Famenia will confront the demon and the älfar—Girdlegard must never fall into their clutches.”
“On my way here I heard one of the monarchs and a few nobles have gone over to the älfar. Our task will be anything but easy. The black-eyes are ingenious and malicious in their planning.”
“Believe me, Simin. In me they have an adversary to be reckoned with. They will come to fear me more than the elves or the human warriors.” She paused and then whispered, “But first I must bury my girls. My valley is falling apart.” She swallowed and put out a hand for support. “But I can’t bring myself to look out of the window, let alone go outside.”
“Let me do it. Rest now until you are properly recovered.”
“No!” She took a deep breath and stared into the flames in the fireplace. “No! I must do it myself, though it will tear my heart to pieces.” The warm light made her appear distant, the black spots on her skin recalled the fury lines on an älfar face. In that moment she could have been taken for an älf. The hatred in her eyes added to the resemblance.
“I swear, Simin: I will never teach again. No pupil of mine shall ever meet her death because she was in my service. I’ll put the pupils I sent out to distribute the warnings in your hands, or transfer them to Grok-Tmai or Fensa to look after. And when I die, the enchanted land of Hiannorum shall fall to whoever chooses to take it.”
Simin was silent. That makes two of us who have lost our magic names. I am no longer the Underrated and she is no longer the Flawless. He looked forward to meeting up again with Grok-Tmai, Fensa and particularly Famenia. Girdlegard already had so much to be grateful to her for. Combining their magic powers they would repel any attack. We shall hold off the armies! We shall keep the enemy hordes at bay!