Blazing Earth (20 page)

Trapped.

He was trapped as surely as the stones were in the ground.

If Tolan opened the gateway, he saved his son but humanity lost its battle. If he sealed it, the fate of his son was sealed by that act.

The problem was, he'd known enough noblemen, even those without power like that of the one holding his son. Noblemen who saw to their own needs and wants and plans without any regard for anyone else. And this one, bolstered by the power in his blood, was so much worse.

Tolan knew that there was a great chance Kirwyn would die and that hardly anything Tolan did would influence this Hugh de Gifford. He believed everything the others had told him. He did.

So, once he merged with the earth, he traveled back to them. They rode as fast as they could toward
Durrington, but Tolan knew that the others would arrive first. The only thing he could do was take his time uncovering the stones until the Warriors arrived and rescued his son.

He rose from the ground before them and waited for the warblood to approach. As Tolan watched, William leaped from his horse and became that being with every stride he took toward him. By the time they faced each other, the blue-skinned creature of war was taller than any man Tolan had ever seen and more fearsome than any wild animal. His sides heaved as he stood between Tolan and the others, glaring through his red eyes with hands that were now a sword no man could carry and a battle-ax.

“You cannot do this, Earthblood,” the warrior growled.

“I will not sacrifice my son,” Tolan answered in a voice that came from the earth beneath him. “I will not.”

The warblood rose and towered over him. Tolan did not respond in kind, but he waited for attack.

“Will,” a soft voice said from behind the warblood. Brienne crept around and tugged on his arm. “Withdraw,” she whispered. The warrior slid back into the man before Tolan, only the glowing eyes of the warblood remaining now.

“We understand, Tolan. We do. But you must know that my father will kill your son whether or not you open the gateway. He does not have mercy within him. Even for a child,” she explained.

“I cannot take that chance, Brienne,” Tolan said.
His voice shook as he became a man once more. “I will not.”

Tolan wanted to be the one to defeat this evil one, to seal the door of her prison once more. He'd heard her there, felt her attempts to escape. He'd sensed the madness, not reconciliation that lived within her, and knew what it would mean to free her. He met the gazes of those who had brought this fight to his lands and then looked at the warrior.

“No matter which side I choose, I must uncover the circle. I go there now to begin.” He raised his hand when they began to argue. “You have until I finish to rescue my son.”

Silence met his words.

“When he is safe, then we will seal the gateway and end this.”

Roger, William's second, was the first one to act. He walked to William and began to lay out a plan, a strange combination of strategies to deal with both their human and more powerful adversaries. They had done this before and Tolan knew it was Kirwyn's best chance at survival.

“Soren has shown us the lay of the land there,” Roger said. “The only way to approach is from the hillside to the west. If he”—Roger nodded at Tolan—“can keep the embankment high there, my men can move into place.” Humans without power were difficult to sense.

The others among the group with battle experience offered their own suggestions, but Tolan did not need
to be here for this. He needed to check on his son and then do the thing only he could do. . . .

And he needed to speak with Elethea.

Tolan saw the guilt on her face when they realized the demand made of them and he understood that she blamed herself. She defended him to Soren and Ran out of that guilt.

If the worst happened to Kirwyn, he would never have another child. Never be able to pass his bloodline and power down to a new generation to face whatever would come of this.

Unthinkable, but true.

But this was not her guilt to carry, 'twas his for not protecting his son more carefully. For not making a decision sooner. For failing.

“I know that you are linked,” Tolan said to William and Aislinn. “I can hear what is said from within the soil. Tell me what you need of me and when you need it. I will do what I can.”

Tolan walked to William and took the man by the arm. “I must save my son,” Tolan swore. “But I do not want the being in that prison released and will do everything in my power not to allow it.”

“Except seal it now.”

The stark words sat there for a moment between them before Tolan spoke. “You will understand when you have a child.” Then he walked away and returned to the earth.

He would not sacrifice his son.

He crossed the miles back to the circle, passing by Hugh's men. Tolan could see Kirwyn riding behind
Hugh, looking unharmed, though scared. His cousin Farold fared as well farther back in the group of riders. As Tolan moved by them, Hugh called out to him, startling him.

“You are there, Earthblood,” Hugh shouted. “Your son and I will meet you at the circle.”

Tolan rolled under the surface, causing the earth to quake and shudder. Hugh's horse and many others reacted skittishly. Some reared up and others cried out in terror. The last thing Hugh said unnerved him.

“You see, Kirwyn,” Hugh said to his passenger, “I told you your father was powerful. He can become the earth and move through it.”

Tolan felt his heart breaking then, knowing that Hugh had revealed the story of their family to his son. Not him. He would not be the one to speak of the power and their duty to the lands here. Their secret had been shared with him by one not of their bloodline. He roared out his sadness and fury then, and it made the ground around him and throughout the plain quake and rattle.

He moved faster back to Durrington and found her there. Shining like the midday sun, she faced him as he left the soil and stood before her. This time, she opened her arms and welcomed him.

“This is not your fault, Thea,” he whispered against her mouth. Stroking her face and pushing her loosened hair away, he kissed her again and again. “I see it there, just as I did when Jasper did his worst to you,” he said. She shuddered in his embrace now, but he shook his head. “That was never your fault and neither is this.”

“But if something happens to Kirwyn—” she began.

He pressed his lips to hers to stop her. “If something happens to my son, that is not your guilt to bear.”

“Tolan, I cannot—”

Tolan took her mouth in a fierce kiss then, stealing her breath and making her stop her words. “I think that these gods have some plan in place. If Kirwyn dies or survives, if we do, there is some purpose to this.” She nodded in agreement. “We need a plan of our own. Neither of us can do this alone. It is either both of us together, in accord, or neither. So what say you?”

She pulled away from him just as the din of the riders began. Glancing over to the large heavily armed group growing nearer and then back at him, Thea spoke. “We must do what we can to defeat this evil one and those who serve her, Tolan. But I cannot do that at the cost of Kirwyn's life.”

“The Warriors will try to rescue him. We will do whatever we can. But if it all fails and the only choice is to . . . open it? What say you?”

“Save Kirwyn,” she said.

He changed before her and sank into the earth, seeking the stones buried there. First, he raised the height of the embankment all around the perimeter, pushing the stones now seen up higher until they appeared like a huge fence around the site. It would not stop Hugh, but it would slow them and make his men more vulnerable by thinning their lines for the Warriors.

As it turned out, uncovering the stones was not an
easy task. They were buried deep and anchored there by some sort of powerful, binding spell. Pieces of memories floated through Tolan's mind then of his grandfather walking this area and singing or chanting words Tolan could not remember now.

Like with a web woven tightly from many directions, Tolan needed to cut the ties on each one before the earth would move away from them. He lost track of time. He lost track of everything going on above him. He concentrated on each stone, one at a time, until they were free and ready to move.

Tolan climbed from the earth and faced the circle.

Hugh's men were spread around, inside the embankment, but not near this. Tolan heard the approach of the Warriors and felt the stormblood above and the waterblood trying to seek a path through to the stones herself. Then he saw Hugh and Kirwyn, standing together between the raised stones watching him.

He turned away from them and commanded the earth to move.

Every sound ceased as the first stone rose through the ground and took its place there. Even the mad whispering from the abyss stopped as though the evil within wanted nothing to interfere with his task.

Thea had told him of eight stones, but there was an altar stone there near the center of the arrangement, too. By the time he'd brought the second one to the surface and stood it in its place, he was sweating. His breathing grew labored by the third and he had to pause after the fourth one was in place.

For the first time in his life, it seemed that the earth
was working against him in a task. Always, when he asked of it, it delivered, whether life to barren fields or a bountiful harvest or anything asked. Now, as though it knew this was wrong, the earth fought him. Thea joined him there, outside the stones, but not even her presence or the strength of the sun she bore within her helped.

“Tolan,” Hugh called out to him. “I would speak to you now.”

More to give himself a chance to consider this challenge and to give the Warriors time to ready their plan, Tolan nodded and walked, as a man, to where the fireblood held his son. He tried to remain calm. He must think quickly in order to save his son.

“Kirwyn? Are you well?” he asked, stepping closer to his son.

Hugh stood with his arm draped over Kirwyn's shoulder, holding him before him as both a prize and a hostage. Kirwyn gave a nervous shake of his head rather than speaking.

“We spoke so plainly before, Tolan, and I found it refreshing. So I wanted you to know what choice you face in this moment,” Hugh said.

“I know what my choices are, de Gifford,” he said bitterly.

“Ah, but I think you do not.”

Tolan met the fireblood's gaze and then followed it to his son. Studying Kirwyn for a minute, Tolan gasped as he recognized it—his son carried the earth's bloodline within him. He would have the same gift, the same power, over the earth as Tolan did.

“More, I think,” Hugh said. “Such great potential within him.”

“Have you told him?” Tolan asked Hugh. How much had the fireblood revealed to his son?

“Much of it,” Hugh admitted. “I was so pleased to find that he carried the bloodline that I spoke of it. But, Tolan, we can train him together. There is still so much you do not understand about your own powers.” Hugh leaned in, whispering his words so only the three of them were privy to them.

“And with Chaela's presence, our own powers will increase, for she is not a bloodline but a goddess, able to grant her favor to those who serve or friend her.”

“So, if I do as you wish, you will spare my son?”

“Spare him? More than that, Tolan. I will teach him how to use the power within him. I will place him, and you and your sunblood, at my side as the only goddess comes back into the world.”

Tolan asked the final question, one to which he already knew the answer. He would not look at Kirwyn as he did so. “And if we do not?”

Hugh laughed aloud then. “I think we all know the answer to that, Tolan. Though, after meeting your son, I think I will regret his loss.” Kirwyn trembled then but did not cry out. Brave even at his age. Tolan was proud.

Hugh nodded to someone nearby and Lord Geoffrey pulled Farold out into the open space between the stones above and the plain behind them. Before Tolan could speak, Hugh lifted his hand and pointed at their cousin.

“This is what you can expect if you do not open the gateway.”

Nothing else warned of the man's terrible intention but the act itself—Farold began to burn. Flames crept up from his feet and, within seconds, had engulfed him in fire. The screams of the dying man and the smell of his burning flesh surrounded them, and Tolan could not stop it.

“Do not, Ran Waterblood,” Hugh called out to the unseen woman. “He will be dead before you can stop me.” He returned his hand to Kirwyn's other shoulder.

Minutes that seemed like hours passed until Tolan's cousin actually died. With a last scream, his body disintegrated into ash.

“I think you have something to do?” Hugh said, nodding to the stones behind them.

“But we have no priest to pray the ritual,” Tolan argued.

“Worry not, Earthblood. I have things well in hand,” he said, squeezing Kirwyn's shoulders.

Tolan met Kirwyn's gaze then and smiled at his son. As he walked away, he hoped that William and the others had a plan, for he was out of ways to keep the worst from happening.

Thea stood at his side as he strained to raise the stones.

Tolan had worked silently ever since he watched his cousin die. Her power might heal, but she could not bring back the dead, so there was nothing Thea could do. She hated this helplessness and watched and waited for her opportunity to do . . . something.

Though the sun had risen into a watery sky earlier, she shone her light at Tolan to give him strength. But, try as he might, he seemed to be fighting the earth itself. Or mayhap he had used so much power that he had less to use now? Raising the embankment, uncovering the outer ring of hundreds of stones—she could not imagine the amount of power that all took. When the eighth one stood in its place, Thea held her breath.

“There is another,” he said as he pointed near the center of it.

A flat, tablelike stone seemed to float through the
ground and in the air there. Two shorter ones positioned themselves under it and it stood there. An altar. This was different from what she'd seen there, but it mattered not.

Tolan turned to face her then and nodded. “It is done.”

For a moment everything and everyone around them stood still in utter silence.

For a moment.

Then a battle cry rang out and mayhem broke free all around them. The men who fought under William's command swarmed over the embankment, which Tolan seemed to be controlling, lowering it level before their path. While she watched, Roger led them in spreading lines across the wide-open space where they would fight with Hugh's soldiers.

Thea thought that Hugh's men looked ill-prepared for the onslaught, but not a one gave ground or ran. The battle on the ground was not the only fight, for she saw William in a form that her human mind could not comprehend—growing taller each second as he strode across the field searching for Hugh.

Though she'd heard about each of their forms, nothing prepared her for the sight of this berserker or his mate, Brienne, who changed into living fire. Though shaped like her human body, she burned like the brightest flames Thea had ever seen. Hotter than even the blacksmith's hearth, she moved across the area toward her father as well.

Bolts of lightning struck the ground around them as Soren began his attack from the sky above. Winds buffeted the soldiers, too, as he moved like a storm
through the fighting, knocking down Hugh's men as his wife doused fires that Hugh began throwing at their own men.

In the midst of the chaos, Thea saw Aislinn making her way, with the large guard at her side, toward the circle. Once they got Kirwyn to safety, she would enter the stones with them and pray the words that would seal it forever.

Then all it took was a boy's cry to bring everything to a standstill.

Kirwyn screamed in agony as Hugh took hold of his hand and turned his own to flame. Their hands melted together and Thea felt her stomach seize and roll at the sight and sound of it. She began rushing there, for now there was something for her to do. She could heal this. She knew it.

“Go to the stones, Sunblood,” Hugh called out, meeting her gaze across the distance. “Come one more step and it will move up to his arm.” As though to prove it, Hugh inched the fire past the boy's wrist, sending him into agony. “When the gate is opened, you can see to him with your healing touch. If you or your mate continues any closer, there will only be a lump of melted flesh left when I finish with him.”

She would heal him, but for now she obeyed the fireblood and backed her way toward the circle, never turning away from the horrifying sight.

“Halt!” Hugh called out, his gaze on the ground in front of him. “You see, I can control this, Tolan. I can make it go quickly.” The flames burst out of Kirwyn's skin now and the boy's howls made her skin crawl.
“Or slowly to prolong it.” And he did just that, pulling the flames back now and making their joined hands glow like hot metal instead.

“Take Geoffrey to the stones now,” Hugh ordered.

“Why Geoffrey?” Tolan asked as he rose before his son and his tormentor and stared at Hugh. He reached out toward Kirwyn, and Hugh smiled as he nodded.

“Geoffrey carries a mark of his own,” Hugh explained. He nodded at his cousin, who pulled back his sleeve to reveal his arm to one and all.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” Thea turned and saw the epithet had been uttered by Father Ander. The Catholic priest was closest to her then, one of those trying to get Aislinn into the circle.

As they'd told her, once the three—the two of the bloodlines and the one marked as priest—entered the circle, it would seal them inside it until the ritual was completed . . . or failed. For if the ceremony, which was different at each circle, began and a mistake was made, the circle and everyone inside it would be destroyed.

“Tolan, take him to the circle and begin the ritual,” Hugh said loudly. “Once the gate is opened, you can have your son back. As I promised.”

Kirwyn had fainted, a blessing, Thea thought, but Hugh did not release him or his hand.

It took Tolan only a moment to nod and walk toward Geoffrey, their lord. How had he been marked as a priest of the Old Ones? If he was related to Hugh, should he not be a fireblood? It made no sense until she thought about Father Ander. He'd had no
connection to the other priests until his mark had risen. And he had no knowledge of the ritual needed.

But Soren had. His grandfather had, unknowing to him, taught him the words in the songs of his childhood.

Since she had no inkling of her own power or connection to the Old Ones, Thea had no idea of what words would be needed within the circle. Tolan had been raised by believers. Mayhap he knew?

As she watched, his body turned to soil and wrapped itself around Geoffrey, before sinking into the ground beneath them. The earth swallowed up Geoffrey's cries of fear, though Thea could feel their approach where she stood. Soon, Tolan thrust up from the ground and dropped a coughing, wheezing lord at her feet.

“Tolan! Thea!” William called out to them. “Do not do this.”

“I have no choice,” Tolan said quietly and with a sad tone of resignation. Truly, what else could they do?

“One to open, one to close,” Soren called out. “There is always a choice, Tolan!”

The other bloodlines approached from all directions, but Tolan did not give them a chance to stop the three of them. With a tilt of his chin, he forced the earth beneath their feet into a wave that spread out from the circle and knocked everyone to the ground. Grabbing her hand, he pulled Thea with him as he shoved Geoffrey into the stones. With one last glance back, she stepped with him between the stones.

*   *   *

A white flash of light surrounded the circle now, swirling around it, preventing them from seeing out and the others from seeing in. It stopped them from passing through the stones as well. Tolan released Geoffrey and walked around the inside of the circle, looking and listening for some sign of what they must do. When he tried to get a glimpse of what was happening without, he could see only shadows, some moving, some still. Pressing his hand between the stones did no good. The light was some kind of barrier of its own now.

The altar stone gleamed sheer white now in the light and caught his attention. Tolan walked to it and beckoned Thea over. Lord Geoffrey stood where Tolan left him, with shock and fear covering his face. He tried to speak several times, pointing at Tolan and murmuring unintelligible sounds.

Tolan guessed that the journey through the ground might have upset the lord's sensitivities somewhat. He could feel the man as he tunneled through the ground, holding on to enough of his own form to protect Geoffrey as they moved through the soil there. It was a strange and yet terrifying moment, being in the ground, part of it, for Tolan, too.

“Tolan?” Thea asked as she walked inside the circle. “This was not here when I saw this place. The sacrifice was laid there.” She pointed across the clearing to a different spot.

“Sacrifice?” Geoffrey stuttered out. “Another sacrifice?”

Tolan strode over to him and grabbed him by his tunic, pulling him up close. “Have there been others?”

“Aye,” he said, shaking his head several times.

“When?” Tolan asked, tossing him back onto the ground.

“All his life, he has worshipped the goddess. Sacrifices were part of that,” Geoffrey admitted.

“Like my cousin?” Tolan asked, remembering the terrible sight.

“Aye, though it was worse for any woman chosen.”

Tolan did not even wish to think of the depravity that could be involved, but he did see Thea shudder at the words.

“So, what do we do here, my lord?” Tolan asked, infusing the title with sarcasm. “If you are marked, if he sent you in here, you must know.”

Tolan did not take his gaze from the man who'd ruled his life, but he did walk to Thea and pull her close, entwining their fingers.

“He said we must spill our blood on the altar stone. And we must break the altar so that our mixed blood flows . . .” Geoffrey stopped and looked around the area, searching for a place. “He said the barrier is in the center there.”

“And then?” Thea asked.

“Then she will be freed from that place.”

“Come,” Tolan said, approaching the center of the circle with Thea at his side. Geoffrey remained next to the altar as though afraid to move near the center.

“Is this the area you could feel but not penetrate, Tolan?” Thea asked.

Tolan looked into the ground and nodded. Even now he could feel the outline of it. It ran deep into the earth, so deep he could not reach the bottom of it. “It is surrounded by stone or something so hard that I cannot even sense through it.”

“Hugh said Cernunnos created it with a thought,” said Geoffrey.

Tolan and Thea turned back to the nobleman. His ancestor was so powerful that he could carve this immeasurable abyss with a thought?

“What more do you know of it? Of what we are supposed to do?” Tolan asked, stalking back toward Geoffrey.

He threw his hands up before Tolan, ready to fend off any blows. Used to having guards to protect him had turned the lord soft, so all Tolan would need was one well-placed punch to take him down. But if they were to open this barrier and Tolan was to save his son, he needed this man.

“You must know more!” Tolan shouted. “He is burning my son inch by inch. What must we do?” He ran his hands through his hair, trying to figure out the rest of it.

“If a priest is needed, there must be prayers? A ritual of a sort?” Thea asked softly. “My lord, do you know these prayers? Or are they here somewhere to be found?”

Geoffrey pointed to the altar stone, and Tolan realized the man had been searching it the whole while.

“Is it there?” Tolan asked.

“I cannot see anything now, but Hugh said to mark it with blood and the words will show.”

“Then do it!” Tolan yelled.

He and Thea watched as the man pulled a small dagger from his belt and tugged back his sleeve. Holding his hand out, Geoffrey made a quick slash, deep enough to make the blood flow freely. As it dripped, he spread it over the surface of the altar. The pristine white stone seemed to reject the blood at first, but then the droplets filled in channels cut into it.

These were not words in their language, for Tolan could read and write and recognized none of them. These slashes and cuts were not familiar to him. Another language?

“Do you recognize these? Are these Norman or Breton? Latin?” he asked Geoffrey. Tolan's skills at letters was basic and he knew nothing other than the language of this area. Geoffrey shrugged and shook his head.

“We are missing something,” Thea said. “It must be a combination of things. These words, the blood, and something else.” Tolan thought on her words. “Your family passed down a great power to you, Tolan. And the stories of the ancient past. Is there anything they told you that referred to this place or this ritual?”

Tolan could remember bits of his grandfather's old stories and prayers and those, too, from his father, but what he remembered most clearly was the songs. As they worked the fields, his grandfather would sing songs of the earth and the plants and the . . . stones!

“Thea, I think you are right!” he said, pacing around the altar stone trying to pull those memories. “There were prayers I heard as a child. And chanting, hours of chanting as we worked the fields.” He rubbed his face. “I thought they were like the waulking songs used by the women to keep up their pace in their work, but now I wonder.”

He began to hum one of the tunes he did remember. Memories of warm summer days in the fields grew stronger, as did the sound of it. His grandfather would begin it, his father would add his voice, and then Tolan would wait and join in when they told him. The melody and words woven together helped the lands, his grandfather explained.

One song to open the furrows and one to close them.

As the sound of the song echoed around them, a vibration began under their feet. Then, coming from the center of the circle, a stronger motion started and it felt as though something was beginning to shudder inside the earth.

“Wait, Tolan.” Thea grabbed his arm and tugged. “Do not sing it!” She pointed at Geoffrey and the altar. “If it begins, it must end correctly or we are all destroyed, along with the circle. Be certain before you begin.”

As though a last warning, a scratching noise followed by something that sounded like a large animal panting emanated from within the barrier. Tolan swallowed deeply, his throat dry with fear now as he, as they, contemplated releasing
that
.

“He will kill the boy,” Geoffrey said. “And everyone else out there if you do not do this.” The nobleman lost the color in his face then, telling Tolan that worse was coming. “He will raze the village and burn the fields, too. No one will survive and nothing will grow here for generations, Tolan. His fire cannot be withstood.”