Chapter Twenty-Five

 

The tallest of the standing stones in Ilparien was a twelve-foot high pillar of granite in the center of the outside arc. Tal and Andai declared it perfect for marking the northern compass point. They collaborated to work the change while Mithrais observed from within their heartspeaking link, his hand clasped around Tal’s wrist.

Tal’s deep awareness of earth and stone was far stranger than the shared perception of the Wood that Mithrais had once experienced with the Gwaith’orn. Each rock, tree, and living thing bore its own signature within the resonant vibrations of the tree folk, but the thick, visceral thrum of earth drowned out these lesser things. He became fascinated by Tal’s new perceptions. A strange overlay of vision revealed the entire valley was a caldera. The sheer cliffs of basalt columns to the north had once been the inner throat of a great mountain of fire. Leagues beneath their feet, the earth was still hot and moved at a slow, molten pace. So entranced by this new sight, he didn’t notice Tal and Andai had stopped.

Ah...Mithrais? Tal’s inner voice interrupted his fascination, amused but uncertain. Do you realize what you’re doing?

He shook himself and eased out of the link. “I’m sorry. What happened?”

“I think you just discovered something new about your gifts.” Tal raised an eyebrow. “You were directing my earth senses.”

“Was I?” Startled, Mithrais offered an apology. “I had no idea I was using magic at all.”

“You weren’t using magic. It was just you.”

“A new heartspeaking gift? What a time for it to show up.” Andai clapped Mithrais on the shoulder. “Elder Heartspeaker will be thrilled to have something he can study this winter.”

“He won’t get to, I’m afraid. I have to make a visit to court.”

“You going to come back all velvet-clad and mannerly? Afraid to sleep in the dirt?” Tal eyed him through squinting lids.

Mithrais snorted. “If Marithiel didn’t manage it in twenty years, a few weeks at court won’t either.”

“Well, I’d like to get this done before you leave.” With mock reproach, Tal offered his hand to Mithrais once more. “Let’s try it again, but please let me work. It’s difficult to shift crystals and get them to resonate at the right tone if you’re making me watch rock melt.”

A shout from outside the circle of stones made them all turn to regard the figure stumping toward them. Mithrais recognized Kendric and raised his hand in greeting. “I think I’ll let you go ahead without me.”

His comrades reestablished the link between them, and he met Kendric on the edge of the stones.

“I’ve seen more Tauron in one place today than I’ve seen in years.” Kendric peered at the two Magians who stood on either side of the granite pillar. “Something interesting about that rock?”

“There will be in a few minutes. They’re setting it as the northern compass point so it can be used to take bearings. We created the western and southern compass points yesterday. We believe once we have them all set we may even be able to use them to communicate, or at least alert each other to threats in some way.”

“I thought I heard something new start yesterday. Almost like music.”

“It was Colm’s idea, with a little input from a certain bard you might remember meeting. The tones together will create a chord and help determine the heading.”

“Suppose I’ll get used to it. The new pulse from the Circle has saved me the trouble of finding a grove more than once now and keeps me from going too far south.”

“How have the nights been?”

“The same. Folk keep close to the village after dark. Everyone’s in with the shutters closed and lamps burning.” Kendric shifted and cleared his throat. “I appreciate your looking into it. I don’t like being afraid in my Wood.”

“We haven’t found out much of value. I only had my wits frightened out of me without any real answers from the Gwaith’orn. They told me it was best left alone for now.”

“Well, none of the village folk will go near it, I’ll tell you that.” Kendric motioned to the south. “The one you sent to investigate said its best if no one came with him. Being daylight, I didn’t have a problem with it, but I hope he can get back before dark.”

“The one we—” Mithrais stopped in mid-question. “Kendric, this Magian... What does he look like?”

“Thin fellow. Looks as though he’s been ill. I offered him a horse, but he refused.”

Mithrais cursed under his breath. Eirion had left the guild house on horseback, assigned to meet Kevan and scout locations for the eastern navigation point. So caught up in the work to be done, and his intent to meet the King, he hadn’t checked to be certain his comrade settled down after the events of the council.

“Thank you, Kendric. I should meet him there.” He excused himself and went back to Tal and Andai. Concern rose in a mixture of anger and genuine fear for Eirion—and for the Wood, should this malevolent creature be released. He re-entered their link briefly to tell them of Kendric’s news. Tal was at a critical point in his work, unable to stop.

Here. Andai reached into a pouch at his waist with his free hand, and dropped a chunk of crystal into Mithrais’ palm. It’s one of the beacons I’ve been working on. If there is trouble, activate it. We’ll come as quickly as we can.

Beseech the Fates I won’t need it. Mithrais secured the stone and reached out to the currents of magic. He projected his physical self upon the cresting wave. Quicker than the eye could see, the wave bore him up, and he tuned his mind to the resonance in order to navigate his path.

The river below him glinted in cloud-broken sunlight. He followed it south in search of the bend Kendric told him about at their first meeting. The grove where he encountered the darkness was just one of many sources of resonance. But a week later, the signature was indistinct, dampened by something unseen. New trouble presented itself the closer he came to the cairn. It became difficult to lock in to the specific signature of resonance. The pulse of magic slowed. Buffeted with turbulence, the waves were disrupted by something he could not sense. Mithrais nearly dropped from the treetops until he was able to reach out and snare another wave of power. He was no longer confident they would bear him up and descended to the eastern bank of the river. He had no choice but to continue closer to the ground. It was still faster than walking, but difficult to thread the trees.

The river bent at the foot of a rocky hillside and made a sharp turn to the west. He found the grove where he and Telyn spent the night and stopped. The sprite was there, as if it waited for him, the track of someone’s recent passage still evident in the grass.

“Old one, where is Eirion?”

“He is there.” The sprite pointed in the direction of the hillside. “We tried to reason with him, but despair clouds his thoughts. You must prevent him from entering a place of darkness, Mithrais, or we fear he will be lost.”

“The tomb?”

“We speak of the darkness within himself. It has been complicated by the skills we gave him. It makes him vulnerable to the elemental, which seeks to enter flesh. But...” the sprite paused.

“What is it?”

The sprite met his eyes, no playfulness in its demeanor today. “It can do no real harm until it enters flesh, but neither can it be harmed once it enters a vessel. Its only true enemies are the light of the sun and the fortitude of the one it chooses to inhabit. The Magian has the knowledge but lacks the strength of will to fight this entity. We fear he will attempt to defeat it and fail.”

Mithrais plunged ahead into the trees. It was too thick now to attempt to travel other than by foot, but he emerged from the brush onto a path worn by time and the feet of many Tauron. He spotted the cairn, perhaps fifty yards down this track to his right, and darted to the conical mound of stones. His fellow Magian was nowhere to be seen.

“Eirion?” His voice was oddly muffled to his own ears, as if it were not carried on the air.

Beyond the mound, the path continued into the trees. The patchy sunlight, broken by grey-bellied clouds that threatened rain, did not seem to reach this place. A creeping unease began to take hold when Mithrais stood at the head of the shadowed trail. It followed a downward slope toward the hillside. Through the leaves, he glimpsed rocky outcroppings above that hinted at a bluff or cliff face hidden among the trees. He took a few steps in, and the feeling grew more intense. The hair at the back of his neck prickled. Something was there. Waiting.

He knelt to search the earth for signs of Eirion’s passage and found them. There was nothing to do but go forward, reluctant as he might be.

The temperature dropped almost at once with the slope of the broken path. Shade became gloom, dank and damp with the scent of leaf mold and rotting wood. A pressure built in his head and against his ears. It further dampened the sensations of resonance, and fear began to worm its way back into his mind.