The Lord Of Lightning (Book 3) Page 7

  There was only the Other.

  "Greetingsss," a voice in the darkness hissed.

  "Who- who-" was all Frea could get out.

  "You are in a dreeeeam brought on by the Aaaaar," the great black creature softly said in a gentle voice. "Aaand I thought too ssssee who heeeeld my stooone."

  The thing was far away, and Frea could just make it out as it swam closer through the empty blackness. As it kept coming, with the only sickly glow of light in all this universe, it kept getting larger. Frea wasn't sure if it was a dragon, or a lizard, but it was definitely nothing of earth.

  "Noooo boassstssss?" The black thing said. "Noooo proclaaaamtions of my dessstruction?"

  "What are you?" Frea managed to get out.

  "I ammm the ennnnd of all thingssss," the creature said as it got closer, growing in size with its proximity.

  Frea could see that it was larger than a city, possibly larger than all of Wealdland. How could a creature be that large?

  "I ammm the queeen of the vyyyyyreeeoten," the creature softly hissed. "I ammmm veryyyy far awayyy. But myyy lover Deiiiifol Hrrroth will briiing meeee tooo youuuu. Annnnd thennn weee willl desssstroy heavvven." The creature's voice went up in pitch with the last, and it burst into vile, shuddering laughter.

  Frea closed her eyes and clenched her fists.

  "No, no, no," Frea said.

  "NO!" Frea screamed as she sat up, awake, grasping the leather wrapped Ar.

  Wynnfrith roused and gently took the Ar from Frea.

  "Bad dream?" Wynnfrith sleepily said as she settled down again.

  "I saw the thing in the darkness," Frea quietly said.

  "I see her all the time," Wynnfrith said with an obvious pain that holding the Ar brought. "She says she will destroy heaven and laughs."

  "Yes," Frea said.

  "She says that every time," Wynnfrith said as a sweat broke on her brow.

  "Is she real?" Wynnfrith said with fear.

  "Yes," was all Wynnfrith said, as she tried to drift off to a fitful sleep.

  A rustling in the far-reaching grass all about them roused Frea. The unmistakable sounds of feet shuffling through the grass carried on the wind.

  "Someone's coming," Frea whispered to Wynnfrith, shaking her.

  Wynnfrith carefully got to her knees, and pressed their newfound sword into Frea's hands.

  "Garonds?" Wynnfrith asked in a whisper, as she hefted Frea's long dagger.

  "Yes," Frea whispered back.

  "Can you tell how many?" Wynnfrith asked.

  "They're moving differently," Frea said as she tried to scan the horizon without revealing herself.

  Wynnfrith felt the Ar increase in vibrations in her hands. She felt the spark of life in all things, and, like a vision of blue shadows, saw the garonds not far away.

  Wynnfrith stood up.

  "We're over here!" Wynnfrith called in garondish, waving.

  "What are you doing?" Frea cried as she pulled Wynnfrith down.

  Wynnfrith struggled back to her feet.

  "Over here!" Wynnfrith cried again in the garond tongue. "It's Dond!" Wynnfrith said to Frea, pulling her to her feet. The Ar gave Wynnfrith and Frea the ability to speak and understand the garond language.

  Four, wild looking garonds loped over to Wynnfrith and Frea.

  "Thank the Great Parent, I found you!" Dond exclaimed. Dond and the other garonds were more natural, less martial than the garonds who served the Dark One.

  These garonds had long hair, platted with seashells and bones. They bore painted marks of earth ores on their faces and arms, and wore naturally treated leathers and skins. They looked gentle and kind, the way a garond should appear.

  "We have been tracking you for days," Dond said. "There are many coming for you. We must take you to a safe place."

  "The Far Grasslands are flat," Frea said. "There is nowhere to hide."

  Dond looked at his three other companions as if he needed their approval.

  "We are taking you to the Cave of Animal Spirits," Dond said to Frea. "You will be safe there."

  "We need to get back to Wealdland," Frea protested.

  "Frea," Wynnfrith said, "we must go with them. You know it's the right thing to do."

  Frea didn't argue. Perhaps it was the closeness to the Ar the past three moonths, but the intuitive world was clearer than ever to both the women.

  "The cave is close," Dond said. "I think you have been circling it for many days."

  "Maybe the Ar was trying to help us find it," Wynnfrith said.

  "You still have the Heart of the Earth," Dond said with sudden brightness.

  "Would you hold it for a while?" Wynnfrith wearily asked.

  "It is not permitted," Dond said with reverence that Wynnfrith didn't understand.

  "Let us go to your cave," Frea interjected. "I don't like being out in the open like this."

  Wynnfrith and Frea followed Dond and his three garond friends through the tall grass of the prairie. The garonds stooped low with their animal-like gait. The furs and skins that the unconverted garonds wore made them look more akin to loping animals, than cousins to humanity.

  Dond led them to a large, orange and white stone. Two of the garonds heaved at the rock and it slid aside to reveal a hole in the ground. Dond climbed down and before his head disappeared, he motioned for Wynnfrith and Frea to follow.

  Wynnfrith eased herself into the hole behind Dond. As Frea put her feet into the hole, the other three garonds began to excitedly jabber to each other.

  "What is it?" Frea said with alarm. The three garonds pointed to the nearby rise. A platoon of Deifol Hroth's garonds could be seen marching towards them. They stopped and Frea could see them conversing with animation. Then, the military platoon broke into a sprint in their direction.

  One of the gentle garonds pushed Frea down into the hole, despite her protests.

  "I can fight with you!" Frea cried as the large rock was pushed over the hole. Frea pushed at the rock, but it was too heavy for her to move by herself. She had no choice but to climb down into the blackness.

  "The bad garonds have found us!" Frea cried into the darkness. "Wynnfrith come and help me move this stone! We must help the others fight."

  "They will be safe," Dond's gentle voice rose up to Frea. "They will run, and the others will not chase them."

  "But they'll move the stone and come down after us!" Frea exclaimed.

  "No," Dond said. "They will not dare profane this sacred place."

  Frea felt an assurance in Dond's voice and followed it down into the dark.

  The passage was tight, and the rocks were jagged and sharp. It was difficult to crawl holding the uncovered, black sword, and Frea thought of leaving it behind. She saw a glow deep down in the passage and followed it. She knocked her head against a pointed rock and winced. The angle was steep in the passage, and with effort Frea turned her body around. She leaned back and climbed down, feet first, on her hands and feet, with her black sword balanced on her belly.

  As Frea reached the bottom of the passage, Dond was there to help her out of the tight squeeze of the narrow tunnel. The floor of the cave was flat and sandy. The cavern was expansive, and Dond's small candle barely lit the walls and roof of the dark recess.

  Wynnfrith sat cross-legged in the center of the cave. She held the Ar in her lap. She seemed to be in a deep trance.

  Dond pulled Frea closer to the wall of the cave, and lifted his small candle high to show her the paintings rendered on the smooth white surface. The cave was so much larger than Frea ever supposed. She could see stalactites twinkling in the candlelight far, far away.

  On the cave wall, Frea saw red horses; black, hairy doderns; a lone regal bull stauer raised its mighty rack in the center of the paintings of animals, and to the side, there was a red ochre painting of a large hairy animal with a long nose and jutting tusks that Frea had never seen before. The paintings stretched along the walls away into the dark. Then, Frea noticed that there were even painti
ngs of animals on the high roof of the cave.

  Dond led Frea to a depiction of a herd of aurochs, their long horns glinting in the faint light. It seemed as if the numerous beasts actually were running in the flickering light of Dond's candle.

  "Wynnfrith," Frea softly said, "have you seen this?"

  "She's walks in the Sleep," Dond said with a kind smile.

  Frea shook her head. "I don't..."

  "She moves in the Ocean of Souls," Dond lightly shook his head as if Frea should have understood him. "See." Dond pointed at Wynnfrith. "No pain."

  Frea noticed that the weight and struggle of holding the Ar was gone from Wynnfrith. Then, Frea saw that Wynnfrith held the Ar without its leather wrapping. Frea rushed to Wynnfrith's side. But, Dond caught her. He held up a hairy finger.

  "Best to wait for her to wake on her own."

  Wynnfrith felt a peacefulness she had never felt before. She had been frightened when the animals began to move throughout the cave. She instantly thought she was in the middle of a stampede. But, she stilled herself and realized that couldn't be possible down here in this sealed cave.

  The animals gently moved through the air of the cave, running, fighting, playing, living. Their souls a delicate lace of light and energy moving with all the beauty they possessed in the flesh. Easy ribbons of light extended to each spirit in a beautiful web. Wynnfrith could see that, truly, everything was connected.

  Wynnfrith felt a joyful bond to all life. Every living thing was so beautiful. She felt herself crying, and she reached up to touch her tears, but her face was dry.

  She turned, and saw her body sitting in the center of the cave holding the unwrapped Ar. For a moment, Wynnfrith was confused.

  An auroch gave her a friendly nudge. She knew she was walking in the spirit, and it freed her, unlike any other time in her life. Wynnfrith felt a lightness of being, as if every care that ever could be would never trouble her again. The Ar, which had been such a trial to carry, suddenly was a shining point of light that illuminated any spark of life, living or dead. She could follow that spark right down to the center of the earth on a brilliant, silver cord.

  Wynnfrith thought of Kellabald and wished he was there to see what she saw. Then, Kellabald stood before her. It wasn't Kellabald, but it was his spirit. Her beautiful husband was just as handsome and appealing in the shining light of his spirit as if he stood before her in life. Wynnfrith opened her arms to hold him, and when they embraced, Wynnfrith felt such a glow of love, she thought she might give up her spirit at that moment and be with Kellabald for eternity.

  "No," Kellabald said. "You still have much to do. Find Ronenth. You must deliver Frea. Much depends on her."

  Then Kellabald faded, and Wynnfrith was left with the animals all suspended in a slow, ghostly mass of many beasts running with a slow motion.

  He had said to find Ronenth, Wynnfrith thought. Then she imagined the dark haired boy, and she felt her spirit lifted up and moved through the foundations of the earth. Dark spheres were illuminated simply as she willed it to be. The edges of the earth uncurled before her, and she could see, or be, anywhere.

  Wynnfrith felt as though she were moving through sand, the very foundation of all creation, and then water, the elemental base of all the universe, and then the rain of a storm touched her face. She stood on the rocking surface of the ocean.

  Ronenth struggled with his small ship in the storm. Dark shapes moved under the water.

  "No," Wynnfrith said, and the vyreeoten, just under the waves, scattered in fear, as though they had been shocked. Wynnfrith raised up both hands and breathed a deep, calming breath. The winds of the storm abated.

  "Ronenth," Wynnfrith called.

  Ronenth looked up.

  "Wynnfrith," Ronenth said with fear.

  "Don't be afraid," Wynnfrith said. "Follow me."

  Ronenth understood, and brought his boat about to follow the image of Wynnfrith hovering above the waves. A gentle breeze pushed Ronenth's boat forward.

  Wynnfrith suddenly stood in the center of the cave, startling Frea.

  "We need to get down to the beach," Wynnfrith peacefully said.

  "There are garond soldiers out there," Frea said with unveiled fear. "Why leave the safety of this cave?"

  "Ronenth is coming to bring us home," Wynnfrith said with a smile.

  From the narrow passage into the cave, came the sound of the covering rock being moved.

  "Come out," the voice of Mudsang echoed down.

  Chapter Four

  The New Sea

  Derragen, the Archer from Kipleth, sat on a large, tan colored rock, looking out at the featureless expanse of water that was the New Sea. He wore his old green, hooded tunic to match the green of spring. But, the foliage of Wealdland was stunted and late, and so he had no advantage against the blasted and brown landscape. An unceasing, gentle, cold wind whispered off of the flat, unending body of water.

  The Archer stared out at the slowly moving mass of gray salt water stretching out before him.

  The Great Lake of Ettonne was gone with the shattering of the land bridge Byland. Somewhere in the depths of this unfathomable body of water was the elvish crystal, the Lhalii.

  The day was overcast with roiling dark clouds, holding back their life giving rain. The whole scene made the Archer feel as if nature itself was gathering up to challenge him.

  The shore of the New Sea was littered with dead fish that had been rotting for the past three moonths. The fish of the Great Lake couldn't withstand the sudden transition from fresh water to salt water. And so the stench of rotting fish was inescapable.

  There was only one fisherman left on all of the eastern shore of Wealdland. His hut was near where Derragen sat contemplating the newly formed ocean.

  The Old Man was stubborn. Derragen had watched him row his long boat out, and return with empty nets for eight days now.

  Derragen was worried that the Old Man would encounter a vyreeoten, the unnatural sea creatures that infested the waters all around Wealdland now that Deifol Hroth had established a new citadel in the land.

  But, the Old Man would say, "I'm too chewy and gristled to be of any use to any sea monster."

  The Old Man was the sole survivor of all the humans who used to live along the coast. He had climbed the nearby high mound of rocks that all the locals had considered haunted.

  He said he heard strange sounds coming from the tall heap of massive granite boulders. He had always thought the fishing villagers stupid and superstitious, but was surprised to actually hear the groans himself.

  The Lhalii looked like a shooting star, the Old Man had said, that started far south near Byland, and then arced over the vault of the night sky. The brilliant, blinding crystal hit with a quick splash only a league from the shore. Then the swell began, the Old man had said.

  Derragen could see the Old Man rowing back in now.

  The Old Man had said he looked over to the small clutch of fishing villages that lined the shoreline like foam from a placid sea.

  The Old Man said he had no time to run down to warn his family or friends. He bent down and clung to the rocks with all his might as the towering wave washed over him. He said he thought he was going to drown, but the water receded as quickly as it rose, leaving no trace of any other human. They were all just gone, cleaned off the beach like shore debris that disappears like a magic trick, after a raging storm.

  The Archer walked down to the shore to help the Old Man pull his long, fishing boat up through the gentle surf. His nets were, as always, empty.

  "There's something big out there," the Old Man spat through the crashing waves. "I don't know if it's one of your vyree-o-thingys, but it's damn big. Scared the willies out of me."

  "I told you these waters were infested with vyreeoten now," the Archer said. "Any luck hitting the bottom?"

  "I told you how many times," the Old Man snarled as they dragged his boat up onto the sand, "my nets won't reach the bottom. If you want to get the shini
ng thing, you're going to have to get longer nets. Or learn to hold your breath a very long time."

  They turned the boat over, and the Old Man spread his nets over the hull of his boat to dry.

  The Old Man barely had any hair. His bald head was covered in spots and warts. The skin of his face and head were perpetually sunburned and red. He always had a scraggly scruff of white beard as if he shaved with a dull sword. And yet, there was something beautiful about him to the Archer. He had strength and resolution. He wasn't cruel or mean spirited, just practical and no nonsense. It was a relief to the Archer to spend time with a human in which there was not a drop of guile.

  The Old Man reminded the Archer of his father, an old warrior in the always-present wars of Wealdland. The Archer's father wasn't callous, but he was gruff and often filled with an unnamable disgust. Derragen tried to think of the one time he had seen his father smile. It was a quiet day, no chores, no errands, no quests, no missions.

  His father had just turned and inexplicably smiled at him. His father was happy in that moment, and that was enough. The Archer choked up a little with the memory.

  "Let's get up to my shack," the Old Man nervously said glancing back at the gently shifting sea.

  "You're really scared," Derragen observed.

  "Something five times as big as my boat passed under me twice," the Old Man breathlessly said. "I didn't stay to see what it was."

  "That's big for a vyreeoten," the Archer mused. "Did it look like it had a horse shaped head?"

  "All I saw was a shadow," the Old Man sniffed as they walked towards his shack at the edge of the beach. "If I snagged that thing with my nets, it would've dragged me and the boat under quicker than a frightened stauer." The Old Man kept looking back over his shoulder as if he expected a colossal monster to burst out of the ocean at any moment.

  "I have wooden arrows that will kill the beasts," Derragen said with amused reassurance.

  "And if their master comes?"

  Derragen pulled the lone, black Arrow of Yenolah from his quiver and cradled it in his hands.