Chapter Twenty-Six

 

The path abruptly skirted a wall of rock rising from the forest floor, a low spine of the mountain range. He emerged on the southern side. An opening in the stony barricade loomed there, narrow, black and silent. Chiseled patterns around the archway indicated it was man made. Inside, common darkness changed to something impenetrable and fathomless just beyond the doorway. Eirion stood only a step away, face to face with the ink-black void.

“I thought surely this is why these gifts were given to me.” His voice carried the heaviness of despair as he stared into the mouth of the tomb. “I was wrong.”

“Eirion—” Mithrais found it almost difficult to speak aloud in this atmosphere. “Come away, my friend. You shouldn’t try to do this alone. Come with me, and we’ll make a plan together.”

Eirion did not take his eyes from the darkness waiting inside the mouth of the tomb. His breath smoked on the unnaturally frigid air. “You’ve seen it.”

“You know I have.”

“It’s speaking to me, Mithrais.” Eirion’s gaunt face broke into a thin smile. “It’s trying to tempt me with oblivion.”

“Don’t allow it.” The pressure changed in this murky hollow, painful in his ears. “It wants a body to inhabit. If it takes you, the knowledge of how to use your magic comes with you.”

“Oblivion sounds refreshing.” He laughed without mirth. “All I know is death. The very food I eat rots in my sight. Mortar crumbles from the city gates. My body decays while I watch, and no one can understand this is not a gift for me. If I could give it up, I would.”

It was all Mithrais could do not to turn and flee back to the trailhead. Every instinct he possessed urged him to retreat. “You don’t want to give the creature access to that kind of knowledge. Let me help if I can.”

“No one can.” Eirion’s hollow eyes turned to regard him. “I thought I could learn something to tell me how to defeat it, but there’s nothing there except the choice to embrace the darkness. I no longer know what to believe in my senses.”

“You feel this heaviness in the air? The cold biting your skin? Those things are real. The elemental is doing this. It disrupts the flow of magic and resonance.” He moved closer and offered his hand. “Perhaps together we can see a way to fight it. Please let me try to help you. Come away, and show me what you see.”

“You don’t want to see it. It will change the way you see everything.”

“I would rather take that chance than let this despair and darkness consume a friend.”

He waited as Eirion’s internal conflict played across his comrade’s face in a rictus of pain. At last, his hand reached for Mithrais, and he did not hesitate. He grasped Eirion’s wrist. The other man’s hand grabbed his forearm with desperation.

“It’s getting more difficult to resist the temptation to be done with it. Help me!”

Eirion’s mental shields dissolved. Mithrais staggered under the weight of his friend’s crushing despair and loathing of the knowledge the Gwaith’orn had bestowed upon him. But something else clouded Eirion’s mind. Threads of darkness had already taken root there, finding cracks and crevices in which to insinuate itself in his psyche. It sapped his already failing will to fight and pulled him closer to the doorway.

Show me what the darkness looks like to your sense of magic.

Eirion shuddered and called his knowledge into play. His perception of the world overwhelmed Mithrais with the scope of it. Eirion knew exactly how long each thing around them would take to disintegrate into dust, and how to accelerate the process. Plants, stone, and flesh were all things in a constant state of change, leading to an inevitable end of death or decay. To Eirion, it was unstoppable, inevitable, horrifying. He had lost sight of how to control this sense of his magic and pull back from a lens meant to be a tool, not a consuming study. Mithrais had to disengage from the intensity of his friend’s emotions and step back from the precipice before he lost his concentration. He replaced some of the barriers in his mind.

Focus! He allowed his new heartspeaking sense to ensnare Eirion’s gift, and the sharpness of command rang in his own thoughts. He tightened his grip on the other man’s arm. You are stronger than this. Don’t let this small facet of your gift control you. You were chosen to master it, but instead you are allowing it to destroy you. Show me the darkness.

There’s nothing... Eirion’s defeat clouded his mind and would not let him see anything beyond the surface. Mithrais forced his comrade’s gift to open and expose what they faced...and for the first time he could hear it too.

Oily whispers reached into his mind, tugging, seducing. Responsibilities too weighty to bear, self-doubt, and reluctance; it promised release from all of these things. Underneath, Mithrais caught an echo of rage from a creature unlike anything he knew, without shape of its own, hungry for death, lust, and chaos.

He experienced a moment of clarity why the Old Ones had so long relied upon the Tauron to prevent wanton violence within the Wood. It wasn’t just defense, but to counter the very acts that might wake this elemental from its slumber. The spell cast in the Circle had unraveled all the precautionary work in one moment.

Threads of magic pulsed in the lines chiseled around the stone arch of the entrance. It was barely there when viewed through Eirion’s senses, but Mithrais recognized it in his own skills. This was a confinement spell, set into the rock. He wanted to move closer but was wary of standing too near the archway. It’s failing.

The null effect on magic here is the creature’s only weapon. It isn’t strong enough yet to let it escape, but it’s growing fast. Eirion’s interest began to engage as he followed Mithrais’ direction of the magical sense. I think the initial pulse of magic restored the spell for a short time, but the null continues to erode it.

How do we reverse the null? We can’t use magic if there’s nothing available to tap.

Eirion began to sound more alive. If I can determine how the magic is decaying, we may be able to shore it up.

I don’t think we should go closer—

But Eirion had already broken the physical connection between them and placed his hand on the doorway.

“It’s channeling magic into the stones. It goes all the way inside. Mithrais...the chamber was prepared for the sole purpose of containing this thing.”

“Spells set into stone seem to be Andai and Tal’s area of expertise at the moment. They’re in Ilparien. We should have them come before we attempt anything.” Mithrais glanced at the sky, where the sun faded behind a grey wall of cloud. The cold in the hollow seemed to intensify with the new shadows, and the hair stood up on the back of his neck. “We need to leave.”

“Mithrais!” Panic laced Eirion’s voice, and he turned back to his fellow Magian in haste.

Where Eirion’s hand lay against the stone, black tendrils had wrapped about his arm. The things tightened and pulled him toward the doorway. Mithrais seized his free hand and hooked his arm through Eirion’s. He set his boots in the stony earth and resisted the forward motion with all his strength. Eirion’s teeth were bared in a growl of effort. Tentacles of blackness snaked across his chest and down the arm Mithrais grasped, sending out new threads. Where it touched Mithrais, his flesh grew numb and cold, and it began to wrap itself around his arm as well. They were both dragged toward the opening in the rocks, skidding across the earth despite their desperate fight for purchase.

“No, let me go! Don’t let it take you!” Eirion shouted, his eyes ablaze. “I’ll fight it as long as I can. Restore the spell!”

The sun vanished behind the clouds. In that moment of transient gloom, a dark and formless shape advanced out of the blackness of the chamber and enveloped him. Eirion vanished, his arm wrested from Mithrais’ grip.

He stumbled back with the sudden release and hit the ground. Inside the chamber, a shout of defiance became a scream. Mithrais fumbled for the beacon Andai had given him and reached with his heartspeaking senses into the spell set in the crystal. He triggered it. A new resonance rang out through the northern Wood in a clarion call for help.

Mithrais leapt to his feet. Magical interventions assembled in his mind. He dropped the crystal on the ground and reached for the inner doorway to the fount of magic. His effort released not a torrent, but a trickle under the null effect of the entity that now held his comrade. There wasn’t enough power to change anything, but enough for one spell.

Blinding light crackled between his palms, not the gentle moonlight he’d created before but the hot, white light of the sun. Holding it out before him like a blade, Mithrais swept aside the fear the entity used as a shield and strode into the dark mouth of the tomb.

The harsh light illuminated the small passageway, shadows fleeing before it. Six feet inside, the passage became a rectangular room chiseled out of the mountain’s heart, tall enough to stand in. No sign of Eirion or the creature were evident, but what did become visible in the light, Mithrais did not expect.

It was not a tomb—not entirely, at least. It appeared someone had once lived, and died, in this place.

Remnants of a wooden table and chair lay where they crumbled, broken earthenware atop the pile. A low bier of stone against the wall contained textiles rotted and fallen to shreds with age. A skull rested on what remained of a pillow. The bones of the man or woman lay visible through breaks in the fragile cloth of a blanket that would have fallen apart at a breath. Another dark doorway led further into the mountain. He followed the passage in search of Eirion.

It opened up into a vast cavern. The rush of an underground stream threw echoes back from the roof and walls, stalactites glistening above. The sound of rapid breathing came from in front of him—no, behind him. He turned in a circle, unable to locate the direction. Darkness pressed in from all sides and sought to extinguish the narrow circle of light around him.

“Eirion?” His own voice returned from the rocks, calling his friend’s name in mocking repetition.

“I’m here.”

I’m here. I’m here. Echoes made it impossible to determine where the voice came from. Nothing but thick, black shadow existed beyond the light of his spell. “I can’t see you.”

“You shouldn’t have followed me.” Eirion’s voice, anguished, sounded from everywhere at once.

“We’re Tauron. We don’t leave our comrades to fight alone.”

“There was no fight.”

Pain exploded at the base of his skull, and he found himself on the floor of the cavern. The magelight began to fade with his consciousness. Eirion squatted beside him, a half grin on his face, the stone that had felled Mithrais in his hand.

“He was already mine by the time you arrived.”

 

* * * *

 

The second day ebbed toward dusk when Telyn and the guards reached the end of the Eastern Road. A smaller version of the Tauron guild house, rather than the rustic outposts she had seen in other parts of the Wood, bustled with activity. Campsites for weary travelers dotted each side of the road. The guards who accompanied Prince Keir’s party occupied one, and they rose to greet their fellows. Two initiates came and directed the new arrivals to where their horses could be watered. Telyn’s concern for Emrys pulled her toward the barracks first.

“Has Cormac arrived?” she asked one of the young wardens.

“The Magians got here two hours ago.”

Only two hours? Telyn’s heart sank. It had taken much longer for her message to be carried than she’d hoped.

“I’ll be back to take care of my mare, if you’d be so kind to unharness and water her. One of the injured men is my cousin, and I need to see him first.”

“I will.” The initiate peered at the insignia clasped at the throat of her Tauron jerkin and straightened to attention. “I will, Commander.”

Inside the barracks, she spotted Colm and Deirdre, the Eastwarden. “How is Emrys?” she asked before either of them could greet her.

“Cormac is with him now,” Colm reassured her. “He’s doing all he can.”

“Did you see the injury? Can it be healed?”

“I saw it, Lady Bard.” Deirdre spoke gently. “A sword slash to the bone on his upper right arm, severing muscle. My healer did everything he could to stop the bleeding and prevent infection, but we had to cauterize it.”

Telyn’s breath caught. With the wound cauterized, Cormac’s attempt to heal it would be more difficult, if not impossible. She closed her eyes against burning tears. “Can I go in?”

Colm’s eyes were compassionate. “The King is already in the room. Let Cormac work without any more distractions.”

She took deep breaths to trigger her disciplines, but the tension in her shoulders did not relax. They had more to discuss, for the guard had said one of the thieves used magic.

“Do you know anything about the men who attacked them?” she asked Deirdre.

The Eastwarden crossed her arms. “It sounds like a band of highwaymen who have been marauding the plains road for some time, but they’ve become incredibly bold. Lately they seem to have been increasing in number, and their attacks are more frequent.”

“The guard who alerted us said one of them threw bolts of fire.”

Colm sneered. “Yes. One of them appears to have discovered some new talents, and it may be he’s the reason other brigands are flocking to them.”

“Are they attacking everyone?”

“Merchant trains, for the most part. Small parties have been more fortunate. They’ve never attacked anyone this close to the Wood before.”

“And Searlas? Has he been found?”

“Not in the Wood,” Deirdre said. “I understand he was a prisoner, and I would wager he’s long gone. I haven’t a tracker to spare at the moment since the Gwaith’orn aren’t helping us in that respect.”

Colm noted Telyn’s dismay. “Do you think he’s a danger?”

“Not to anyone else, I’d think.” His career at court destroyed by his confessions under Truthsong, she had no doubts the grudge Searlas held against her now went even deeper.

“The King asked for an escort of wardens to accompany him to Belenus’ stronghold.” Deirdre’s brow creased. “I can send no more than three, myself included. But if something happens, there isn’t any reliable way to send for help outside the trees.” She snorted. “Nor inside the trees, at the moment, without any guarantee the message will be repeated.”

“Where is Mithrais?” Colm asked. “We thought he would be here. The northern compass point began to resonate this morning. It appears to be working like we planned, but he didn’t arrive. When word came we were needed, we thought it might have been at his request.” Colm hesitated. “Could he have gone to the manor?”

“It’s possible.” Telyn fought down a sense of unease. “He may just be running late.”

“It appears they were testing one of the alert beacons as well,” Deirdre told them. “My initiates reported a new signal within the resonance about midday, but it was intermittent and difficult to hear. If you’ll excuse me, I need to make assignments to cover the wardens who will accompany the King for the next few days.”

Telyn spoke in a low voice after the Eastwarden left them. “I’m not certain what it is, but I’m worried about Mithrais. He promised to meet the King here.”

“I don’t know if there is anything that would prevent him from keeping his word. That being said, Kevan told us Eirion never met him to scout locations for the eastern compass point, either.” Colm motioned her to follow him out the door. “I have a nagging feeling the two are related. There’s a grove about a hundred yards behind the barracks. Let’s hope the sprites are in a cooperative mood.”