Son of Corse (The Raven Chronicles Book 2) (8 page)

              “How big was it?”  Joss asked.

              Y’Dürkie answered.  “Judgink from the hole left in the throne, it vould have been about the same size as Tiren.”

              Arwenna’s face paled slightly, enough to worry Joss.  “Did she tell you anything, Y’Dürkie?”  There was a pleading quality to Arwenna’s voice, one that told him she feared the answer.

              “Nothink, Arvenna.  Tiren did not like somethink about the other gem, but vill not tell me.”  Y’Dürkie glanced down at the giant emerald.  “She is silent, Arvenna.  This is not a good think.”

              Joss resisted the urge to go to Arwenna.  Much as he wanted to reassure her, he knew she’d resist it until they were alone.  Her mind would be dwelling on possibilities and ways to counter them.

              “Mialee, did you find any supplies or a place for us to sleep?”  Joss kept his voice soft.  Perhaps, if he got everyone else thinking back on that which they needed to deal with now, Arwenna wouldn’t get lost in a sea of possibilities.

              “Not much, but enough to keep us from starving. We’ll have to let the horses forage, though.  The grain and hay bins were torched.”  She moved towards the archway.  “There’s a tower room up this way.  It’s been ransacked, but it won’t take much to secure.”

              Barek cleared his throat.  “We do watches in pairs.  One down here, one up near the room.  Though I think the biggest threat tonight will be looters.”

              Joss mirrored the others in nodding his understanding.  They’d done this often enough that it was second nature.  He and Arwenna would take the last watch.  With Lexi’s help, maybe Arwenna could find some answers while they slept.

Chapter Ten

T
he first rays of light crept over the horizon.  A small copse of trees kept it from blinding Arwenna as she sat watch.  The night had been quiet. 

              Glancing through one of the few unbroken windows, she saw Joss make another circle of the courtyard below. Outside of finishing some of repair work on his arrows, his night seemed as quiet as hers. 

              The sound of one of her companions shifting in their sleep made Arwenna turn her attention back to the room. 

              Anthones froze momentarily as her gaze fell on him.  She said nothing, only watched him while he eased out from his blanket.  She knew her gaze made him uncomfortable. Try as she might, she couldn’t keep some things off her face.

              She continued to watch him as he slowly moved towards the window where she sat.  He was afraid of her.  Arwenna didn’t blame him at all.  Her first instinct when she saw him pinned to the wall was to obliterate him.

              “You hate him, don’t you? My father?”  Anthones kept his voice low.

              Glancing down to the courtyard, Arwenna watched Joss’ slow walk for a moment before answering.  “I slept easier when I thought he was dead.”  She couldn’t say the word hate.  It wasn’t adequate to express her feelings.

              “What do you plan on doing with me when you find him?”

              She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.  She met his gaze.  He may look like Bohrs, but he wasn’t the same.  “I don’t hold hostages, Anthones.  As long as you don’t come between me, my daughter, and those who took her, I have no problem with you.  But I won’t hesitate to hurt you if you do get in the way.”

              He nodded.  “I can accept that.”

              “You are not your father.  I don’t hold his actions against you.  But I can’t say any of us trust you, either.”

              Barek stirred, breaking the silence.  “Where to today, Arwenna?” he grunted as he rose from his makeshift bed.

              “We start towards Serenity.  That’s where Senyan – Lu’Thare – ended up when he left here.  That’s where I met him.  If there’s anyone or anything left at the temple, we might find out more.”  Arwenna seriously doubted they’d find anything beyond a charred set of buildings, but she had to look.

              Two days later, they crested one of the many hills surrounding Serenity. The early afternoon sun danced across the surface of the lake, small pinpoints shining bright as stars before fading into the rocky shore.

              Arwenna pulled herself away from the mesmerizing shimmer.  She turned her gaze to the collection of buildings surmounting the hill to the east.  The painted walls of her old chapter house seemed subdued somehow. The many cloisters running between the various buildings no longer called to her.  She had often sought refuge from the blistering heat under those passages.  Those days, the faith she once held, no longer sheltered her.

              A bell echoed across the small valley, calling the faithful of the church to services.  Taking a deep breath, she resolutely guided her horse towards the small mining community.  The person she needed to see wouldn’t be available for a little bit.

              They dismounted outside the small inn.  The weathered sign hovered in the stagnant air.  Years of sun and dust had dulled the paint, making it almost illegible.  It hung dejectedly from chains that refused to move and disrupt the years of dust that had settled into the links.

              Arwenna shaded her eyes with a hand, taking in what remained of the village she’d known so many years ago.  The smithy was still across the way from the inn, but there was no ring of hammer on metal.  A small shop, once a jeweler who traded raw minerals for finished pieces, stood without windows.  The roof was gone.  Blackened timbers jutted out at odd angles, left where they fell as the fire consumed the rest of the building.

              Her eyes caught sight of the well.  It stood halfway between the town and the monastery, and was the closest she was allowed to town without others from the church with her.  Mining men could be mean, especially when it came to pretty young girls.  Through the shimmering air, a figure materialized near the well.  The figure could’ve been her in her youth, and Arwenna stood mesmerized trying to decide if the girl she saw was real or a memory of herself.  A bit of hair slipped from underneath the figure’s hat, a golden honey color.  With amazement, Arwenna started towards her.  The closer she got, the more she recognized the woman.  She was older, that much was certain.  But the face was familiar.

              “I see you finally figured out how to keep your skirts out of the mud, Myra” Arwenna teased.

              The woman raised her face to meet Arwenna’s gaze. Her eyes widened in shock.  Before Arwenna could stop her, Myra dropped the pail of water she was holding and bolted towards the sanctuary of the monastery.

              “Myra, wait!”  Arwenna called out, hoping to stop her.  But the woman kept running.

              She stood there, unsure of what to think.  She could hear her friends coming up behind her.  Her eyes remained fixed on Myra.

              “Who was that?”  Joss asked.

              “Her name’s Myra.  She was a ward of the Church while I was here.  I’m surprised she’s still here, actually.”  Arwenna turned back towards the yellow walls of the monastery.  “She was the one who gave Senyan his name.” 

              Drawing a deep breath, she shook off the sudden chill that had settled over her.  “If she was here, drawing water, then the bells signaled the end of services.  We should be able to go now and find out who is in charge these days.” Arwenna was surprised at the trepidation she now felt.  This was home for a while, and not a horrible one.  Resolutely, she began to walk up the short incline.

              The closer she got the more evidence of disrepair she saw.  Buildings that used to be full of people stood empty.  The footsteps of her and her companions echoed across the cobblestones.  They passed the infirmary, and Arwenna couldn’t help herself.  She put her hand to the latch, only to find it locked.

              A weary voice spoke softly, but loud enough to startle Arwenna. “We locked the ward some time ago, my friends.  There was no longer a need for so much space.” 

              Turning around, she looked at the man who spoke.  His hair was gray now, but she knew the face.  “Hello, Brother Rey” she said.  Arwenna could see Myra as she cautiously peeked out from behind a pillar.

              The man blinked, obviously startled.  “Arwenna Shalian.  Silas be praised, Myra was right.”  His face split into a smile, and he reached out to take her hands in greeting.

              Y’Dürkie and Barek moved in front of her, blocking the priest from her.  He appeared to be puzzled at first, then a wave of understanding crossed his face.  “Ah, yes. My apologies, Arwenna.  It seems your companions have more sense than I do.  There is much we need to say to each other.  The kitchen is the coolest place in the compound.  We can go there and talk.”  He motioned for them to walk with him, but did not try to reach for Arwenna again.

              They walked in silence.  Barek and the others had formed a protective circle around her.  Normally, this would’ve chafed at her.  Until she knew where Brother Rey’s allegiances lay, however, she was glad for the overprotective nature of her friends.  It was highly possible Bohrs had people watching for her, too.  Seeing her not fight the formation might lead him to believe she still wasn’t sure of herself. 

              The kitchen was much as Arwenna remembered it.  The far wall was still decorated with herbs drying on hooks that hung from the ceiling.  No fire burned in the fireplace, though it was ready to light.  A scattering of fruits in bowls sat on the table in the center of the room.  Myra slid past them, rummaging in cupboards for earthenware cups.  Once she placed them on the table, she pulled out a sealed pitcher from a niche in the wall.  Arwenna watched her go about her tasks in silence.  There was something unsettling about how she didn’t utter a sound.  She knew Brother Rey was watching her as closely as she was watching Myra.

              “She can no longer speak, Arwenna” he said once Myra left the room.  “When the Corrupted stopped hiding within our Order, many things were done to those who stayed true to Silas.  They felt she had seen too much, and silenced her from speaking of what she knew.”

              “Yet, you still have your voice” Arwenna kept her voice steady, but the implication was obvious.

              Brother Rey waved towards the table, inviting the group to sit.  He sat as well, making a point at sitting at one end where Y’Dürkie and Barek could easily flank him.  Arwenna sat opposite her old teacher, waiting to hear his story.

              Unsealing the pitcher, Brother Rey poured water into one of the cups.  “It is only by the grace of Silas I still speak.  They beat me severely, left me for dead.  Myra found me a day or two later and managed to keep me alive.  Silas told me you would return and I would need to aid you in whatever you required.  He feels the need to make amends with Hauk for the years you spent here.”             

              “Do you remember the elf that came to us for healing?  The one Myra named Senyan?”  Arwenna kept her voice calm.  She wasn’t ready to trust Brother Rey yet.

              The older man took a sip of the water in his cup before answering.  “Yes, I do. Though Father Morgyn kept much of what Senyan was, where he was found, and such from me.  I did not know they used you as part of the binding spell until after the fact.  Or that he had sent you both into the mine with the group of adventurers.  I protested a great deal about putting you in such danger.  I knew your potential, Arwenna.  But I wasn’t convinced you were ready for the outside world yet. I could feel the evil magic that was starting to stir, much like…” His voice broke off as bells began to peal.

              Arwenna felt the air change, an undercurrent of magic raising the hair on her arms, as a gust of wind blew open the shuttered windows.  She was on her feet before Myra came running back into the room. Her eyes were wide with terror as she gestured wildly towards the doorway.

              They ran outside as the magic Arwenna was feeling changed. A grittiness infused the electricity in the air.  It was dark magic, bent on destruction.  A bellow of rage came from Y’Dürkie, echoed within seconds by Barek. Arwenna’s eyes narrowed as she recognized the robed figure hovering above the town.  Joss’ hand restrained her from following Barek, Y’Dürkie, and Hugh as they charged across the open ground towards Senyan’s suspended form.  Anthones hesitated for only a moment before following them.

              “Arwenna!  The lake!”  Joss screamed at her over the roar as the tranquil water of Lake Brahl lifted itself from the deep bed and crashed in a giant wave over them.

Chapter Eleven

T
he water pummeled Arwenna against the stone floor.  She willed a protective shield around herself.  She was still soaked to the bone, but at least she could breathe.  The swirling green bubble engulfing her bounced against the rubble. She caught sight of a similar sphere of blue before the waves moved her and Joss apart again.  At least he was safe.

              The tempest scoured the ground, erasing every pebble that marked a town once stood here.  Corpses intermingled with stone. Arwenna struggled to find some kind of footing where she could climb up the hill and come out of the maelstrom. Straining, she fought against the crushing waves. A dry patch of land appeared ahead of her, and she dug in for one final push forward.  She slumped, exhausted, on the rock strewn hillside.

              Arwenna took a moment to catch her breath before dropping the protective shield.  Joss’ prone body wasn’t far from her.  Her heart constricted as she crawled over to him.  The steady rise and fall of his chest calmed her fears.  Blood trickled from his forehead.  Arwenna brushed her fingers across the wound, closing it. Anthones sat a few feet away, drenched and battered but alive.

              The sound of footsteps approaching her broke the unnatural silence.  She raised her head, shielding her eyes from the bright sun.  Barek was helping Hugh up the hill towards her. Both men were soaked.  Hugh cradled one arm across his chest.  The other held Y’Dürkie’s sword.  The Gem of Tiren, lodged in the hilt, wasn’t gleaming.

              Fear gripped Arwenna.  She rose slowly, searching for some hope to cling to.  “Y’Dürkie?” was all she could say.

              Barek sighed heavily.  “We lost sight of her when the water hit.  Hugh grabbed at her sword, hoping she was attached. An anvil from the blacksmith’s shop slammed into him, broke his arm.  I thought he was going to drown, so I grabbed him by the collar and managed to haul his head above the water.”

              Hugh sat heavily on the ground, his hand still wrapped around the hilt of the sword.  “She hardly ever lets go of this, Arwenna.  Even when she sleeps, it is within arms’ reach.”  He looked up at her.  The pain in his eyes had little to do with his broken arm.

              Arwenna dared a look down the hill where Serenity once sat. The lake was once again peaceful, but there wasn’t a stone left to say a town once stood.  The ground was bare of any sign of life.  Even the well was gone, filled in with who knew what kind of debris and covered with dirt so completely that she wasn’t sure exactly where it had once stood. Everything and everyone had been swept away, carried back to the depths of the lake with the retreating wave.

              Arwenna closed her eyes, then turned her back on what had been. Quickly, she healed Hugh’s arm.  “I refuse to believe she’s gone, Hugh.  If we survived, she might have as well.  Perhaps she’s on the far shore of the lake.  We need to rest a bit, then we will go look.”

              “I’ll find her, Arwenna.” Mialee’s soft voice caught Arwenna by surprise.  She looked up sharply at her friend.

              Mialee stood there, as wet as the rest of them. Her eyes stayed focused on Y’Dürkie’s sword. “I only need her sword and to know where to find you.” The quiet determination in her voice reassured Arwenna.

              “Take Anthones with you, in case you need another sword.  There’s an abandoned mine about a league from here.  I’ll mark it so you can be certain.  Senyan and I went down there to deal with a nest of ghouls that were killing off the miners.  There’s a chamber, very deep down, that appealed to Senyan.  Most likely, that’s where Bohrs has Sera.”

              Barek coughed.  “How can you be certain, Arwenna?  He could be anywhere near the lake, or even gone someplace else by now.”

              Arwenna watched as Mialee and Anthones retreated towards the sparse brush that was high enough to survive the wave, hoping they could find Y’Dürkie. She inclined her head towards Barek.  “He’s here, Barek.  Right where I knew he’ll be.”  She paused again, her voice dropping slightly as she looked down at Joss.  His breathing was still even.  Blood no longer ran from the wound
. 
“There were markings in the chamber, ones I mistook for another creature when we were there the first time.  I know better now.  It’s one of Corse’s strongholds.  I’m certain of it. The raven spent more time flying in there than anywhere else.”

              Shaking off the eerie chill that had settled over her at the memory, she took a quick look at the area.  “It’s past the high point of heat for the day.  It’s going to be bitter cold tonight if we can’t get to some kind of shelter before sundown.”

              Barek stood up.  “I’m not seeing much we can use for shelter.  The packs are gone, including our tents.  Are there any other mines or caves we can take shelter for the night in?  Or do we camp on Corse’s doorstep?”

              Sighing, Arwenna closed her eyes and weighed their options. Joss should be okay when she woke him, but none of them were going to be up to an hour’s march. Hugh wore the look of a man that would tear something apart, given the chance.  She couldn’t blame him, either.  Waiting to find out if someone you loved was alive or dead was almost as bad as watching them die.

              “I’ll wake Joss, then we start moving.  We won’t push it if we can find something else closer.  I’d rather have a night’s rest before going down below if we can spare it. Plus, if Mialee finds Y’Dürkie…well, I’d rather they were with us.”  Quietly, she roused Joss.  She could let him know about Y’Dürkie as they walked.