Exiled (26 page)

“I think ‘had’ would be more appropriate,” said Luno.

“What are the transporting laws of this place?” Kilani asked.

“One must have physically been there in order to transport there,” James translated. “They’re just like our laws of transporting.”

“What the bleedin‘ ’ell is happenin?” said Roger, looking over the side rail at the island.

The island was shaking in the water. James had heard stories of how earthquakes appeared from the water, but he had never witnessed one first hand. It was an eerie sight. Several large chunks of rock slid from the side of the nearby cliffs into the water, sending waves that rocked the
Queen Mary
from side to side. Monstrous roars erupted from the jungle, causing the hairs on the back of James’s neck to stand. He wondered now whether the legend Peroc’s ancestors told him about the tampere were true, and if they were, what monstrosity had the island unleashed this time.

“I would fight a thousand tampere to have my brother back,” Peroc said as if he could read James’s thoughts.

The island settled and everything was still.

“Capitan, you ’ave a plan, no?” William asked.

James and Luno exchanged glances, neither sure who he was addressing because he’d referred to both of them as captain at some point during the trip. James nodded at Luno.

“We shall return to Harbor Town, regroup, and depart from there, well rested and fully supplied. Are there any who disagree?” asked Luno. To the silence that followed he said, “Very well. Harbor Town it is. At first light we shall set sail and leave this cursed place behind.”

“And what of Peroc?” asked James.

“I believe we should offer him a choice. We could learn much from him, and he is no threat to us. He may return to his home at any time,” said Luno nodding at the crate of transporting powder, “but he is welcome to join us on our journey. I’m not sure he would get such a warm welcome if he decides to return home.”

James translated. Peroc looked at the moonlit island with a stern expression. It was clear that he was not in a hurry to give an answer immediately, so James told him they would depart at sunrise. The group went about preparing their bedrolls on deck. Kilani saw to the unconscious man while James took his position on the crow’s nest for first watch.

James noticed Kilani constantly looking over her shoulder at the barrel of transporting powder. He grew increasingly worried she would try something rash.
What was it that drives her to want to leave this place so desperately?
he wondered. Akil had told James the dangers of attempting to transport somewhere you’d never physically been. Neither was sure it could be done and both had seen people try and fail. Some simply vanished and never returned. Others ended up going nowhere.

James saw Peroc finally turn away from his long gaze at his home and make his way across the deck to beneath the mast. He looked up at James.

“I shall join you on your journey if you will have me,” he said.

“We will be honored, warrior Peroc,” replied James.

James found the subtle sway of the crow’s nest relaxing as he looked out over the island. In his pocket he fingered the cold steel of the key and could hear the black castle’s call. He turned to the southeast, imagining he could see its curved spires on the horizon. He imagined himself standing on top of the keep, his colors flying in the wind. The need for it steadily grew inside him, becoming most apparent when he had time to reflect upon it as he did now.

James thought of Akil, his mentor, his father for all intents and purposes during their years together. The vision he’d had after falling in the cave came back to James. Akil had been here, James was sure of that now. That meant he’d found a way out and James was certain the way out was somewhere inside the black castle. A shadow quickly passed in front of the moon. James turned to see what it was but saw only empty sky and the brilliant orange moon. For an instant, a sense of foreboding washed over him. Before he could determine its source, the feeling was gone and James quickly forgot it had been there at all. Tomorrow he would see that all preparations were made for the journey to the black castle. There would be no more delays. He would have his absolution.

Akil Karanis turned before reaching Belfast and took the western path along Lough Neah, he then headed west once more toward the Sperrin Mountains. His quest for answers had taken him many places. Of all those, where he was heading was the destination he feared most. It also may be the most important. The seer who’d foretold of the Anointed One so many generations ago had a specific message, which over time had been distorted. Akil was bent upon unraveling the vagaries so he could find this person himself.

He traveled on horseback along a narrow road that hadn’t seen use in decades. The rain fell hard and heavy despite sunshine in the distance. As the terrain turned up and the rolling hills along the road grew steeper, Akil stopped and dismounted his horse. To his right was a gap in the cliffs not much wider than his shoulders. He felt a compulsion to enter, yet he also wanted to reach his destination, Sawel Mountain, by sundown. Despite his haste, he tethered his horse to a small shrub and stepped into the gap.

The instant he set foot inside, the rain ceased. The path turned a sharp corner revealing a perfectly hewn set of stairs. The stairs twisted left and right with no discernable rhyme or reason until they reached their terminus. A natural archway opened onto a plateau that overlooked the green countryside to his left. Directly across were sheer cliffs that rose another hundred feet. The wind was strong. As Akil steadied himself for fear of being blown over the edge, he heard a sound in the wind. It had a musical quality like chimes in a breeze. He searched for the source of the sound but saw nothing.

Akil had a sudden compulsion to sit. Having not stopped moving since the day before last, he was weary. He deserved a break, he thought, and so he sat, resting his back against the stone arch, hoping it would shield the wind. The chime-like music continued. His mind, always thinking of his next step, his next destination, went idle, taking in the beauty of the music. Thinking of no better occasion to light his pipe, Akil reached into his pocket and fished it out along with some tobacco he’d managed to procure from the last civilized village on his route.

He sat and enjoyed the music, which grew less chimelike and more voice-like as time passed. Despite the raging wind, Akil felt warm as he puffed on his pipe and studied the striations in the stone archway above his head. It was when his vision started to blur that a warning sounded in the recesses of his mind. He was tired and would have liked little less than to take a nap right there, but the nagging warning poked at his brain. His eyelids grew heavy. It took all of his strength to fight off the sleep that was trying to take him.

The warning inside sounded again, louder this time, and Akil stirred from his stupor. He shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts. A woman stood no more than two armlengths away. He wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing there watching him. Akil quickly got to his feet. The woman was stunningly beautiful. Akil felt an overwhelming compulsion to touch her. He had to feel her dark hair in his fingers. The smooth skin on her face, to feel her lips against his. Again the warning sounded.

Akil shook his head once more. The woman stepped toward him. Akil stepped back. He felt drawn to her like he’d never felt drawn to a woman before. Yet somewhere within his desire there was a sense of caution. He stepped back, again passing through the protection of the archway and onto the windy plateau. It didn’t feel right. He knew this and still his internal struggle to keep himself from running to her, pulling her close, kissing her, raged on.

With each step forward she took, Akil stepped back. His clothes rippled in the wind as he and the mysterious woman continued their dance atop the mountain. Akil shivered from the cold. He wondered how this woman could possibly stay warm dressed as she was in nothing more than her intimates. He began to take off his traveling cloak so he could offer it to her when he stopped. The raging wind appeared to be missing her completely. She stood there staring into his eyes, and her hair hung perfectly straight at her shoulders while his cloak blew out like a kite behind him.

Suddenly, she wasn’t so beautiful. Her face grew older before his eyes. Her skin grew dark and scaled. The music she had been singing became a shriek of anger. Akil’s hands went to his ears immediately. What was left of his clouded mind cleared, and for the first time he knew he had reached his destination. He had found the Siren.

Akil quickly recited an incantation that blocked all sound except speech from reaching his ears. The siren’s expression turned fouler as she moved closer to him.

“You are not like the others,” she said.

“I should hope not. I intend to leave with what I have come for.”

“So do all men. And all of them fall under my spell and do my will until I destroy them.”

“I am not under your spell, dear Siren, and have no intention of doing your bidding. I am however willing to go peacefully if you give me what I seek.”

Akil’s words were far braver than he felt. He’d studied the legend of the Sirens. He cursed himself for allowing her to surprise him as she had.

“And what is it you’ve come for, Akil Karanis?”

“I want the lineage of the Anointed One spoken by the Seer. It was written in the book,” said Akil “the bloodline of the Anointed One.”

“And what makes you think I have the book?”

“I have followed its path for many years and many miles and evidence of its existence stopped with you.”

“Most men come because I have called them. Few come for my treasure. None have come for the book. You are indeed different than the others, Akil Karanis.”

“Give it to me, and I shall go in peace and leave you to your foul deeds.”

“No man can defeat me. Not even one so unique as you. I shall make you an offer. Turn, walk back the way you came, and never return. Do this and you shall live. Do it not, and you will serve me until your death.”

Not bothering to reply, Akil sent a massive blast of energy at the Siren. She flew up into the air, her body spinning like a top. The wind immediately ceased. The roughly hewn cliffs that lined the far side of the plateau transformed into a beautiful castle carved into the marble. With one strike, the Siren’s powers of illusion were shattered. She landed nimbly just short of the edge.

“You are powerful, Akil Karanis, but your arrogance will be your undoing,” said the Siren.

Despite her distance, Akil heard her voice as if she were standing next to him. He did not wait for her counterattack. Akil raised his arms. Several large boulders rose from the ground and flew toward her. She did not flinch or try a defensive incantation. She simply continued walking toward him. The stones crashed into her with destructive force. The impact sounded like thunder. Bits of stone and dust flew into the air, engulfing her in the rubble.

Akil lifted slabs of stone straight out of the ground, encircling the Siren and surrounding the rubble pile with a curtain of rock. He then sent a fireball into the air. It came down like a wave and crashed into the center of his stone cage and began to swirl until the entire area within his newly constructed walls was engulfed in flame.

Satisfied that the Siren was either dead or seriously injured, Akil made his way to the castle entrance. The steps leading up to the main doors were cut from a deep red marble that contrasted with the walls of the castle, which were a mottled white.
This creature had an impressive gift with stonework
, he thought as he inspected the entry.

“
Ireki
,” he said, raising his arms and facing his palms at the doors. The doors did not respond. He said several other incantations, each more obscure than the last, before he finally resolved to use force. The castle was a masterpiece and he hated to destroy any part of it. He stepped away from the entry and said, “
Suntsitu
.” The doors shuddered slightly but did not open.

Akil looked over his shoulder. The blaze still swirled within the walls and there was no evidence that she had managed to escape. Returning his attention to the entry, he sent several horse-sized pieces of rock hurtling toward the doors. Each broke upon the doors like waves upon the shore. Everything he had read and heard about Sirens indicated they had little power outside their abilities to ensnare their enemy’s minds. The magic the Siren had used on the doors, however, was extremely advanced and highly foreboding.

After trying several dozen incantations, Akil finally turned away and headed toward the swirling fire inside the stone curtain. He lifted his hands, and the fire immediately extinguished. He then commanded the stone curtain to fall back into the earth from whence it had risen. A charred ring of debris was all that remained. The heat from the fire had been so intense that it had melted the smaller pieces of stone. He saw no evidence of the Siren.

Akil could feel his heart beating faster. A noise from behind made him jump. He quickly turned. The doors to the castle stood open. Cautiously, he approached. Darkness black as sackcloth consumed the interior. Akil stepped to the entry, extended his hands, and sent several light orbs inside. Immediately upon crossing the threshold the orbs disappeared, swallowed by the darkness.

He took a deep breath, readied his mind for whatever lay inside, and stepped into the darkness. As he crossed the threshold, the ink-black air faded until he could see once more. To his surprise, Akil found himself standing in a cave. There was nothing ornate about the interior. Bones, mostly human, were piled on one side. Opposite the bones was a large pile of gold and silver. At the far end of the cave a trunk bound by leather straps sat alone against the wall.

“
Jasoketa deitu
,” Akil said, summoning the trunk. It did not move. He stepped farther into the cave, ever mindful that his enemy could be lurking nearby. He quickly covered the distance between himself and the trunk, checking over his shoulder every several steps.

When he was within arm’s length of the trunk, the lid opened. Akil looked around, expecting to see the Siren rushing toward him, but he was alone. He took a step closer and peered inside. On a bed of purple satin sat an ornate pocket watch and single book.. It was the book he had been looking for, the book men of his generation did not believe was still in existence. The book that the Seer had written, detailing the events leading up to the Epoch Terminus and the lineage of the one who could stop it. Again he looked over his shoulder. He saw no sign of the Siren. Slowly, he reached his hand inside the trunk and grasped the leather binding.

Akil felt as if the blood and warmth were draining from his body. His head began to spin, and he fell to his knees. The Siren was correct, he thought, his arrogance would be his undoing. He released the book and turned as he fell to the floor. The Siren, once again perfectly beautiful, walked toward him, her bare feet padding silently on the cave floor. She stood over him with an expression of pity on her face.

“I gave you too much credit, Akil Karanis. In the end, you turned out to be just as greedy as your predecessors. While your treasure may come in a different form, your lust for it is the same. Now you will become my slave.”

The Siren crouched and placed her pale hand on Akil’s forehead. Akil could feel the Siren breaking into his mind. She extracted his thoughts and his memories. One by one, he could feel her sorting through them as if they were socks in a drawer. She appeared to relish the memories that caused Akil the most hurt. The process caused Akil to relive his past as if it were happening over again. The speed at which the emotions passed over his mind was unbearable. He cried out from the loss, laughed from the joy and screamed from the pain practically simultaneously. He felt the memories of his childhood slipping through his mind. When she reached the first memory of his love, everything stopped. Akil refused to let her have this. This belonged to him and him alone. Akil would not share it—even if it killed him.

“Well, it appears as if I’ve found something of value,” the Siren said, sneering.

She redoubled her efforts, but Akil was steadfast in his defense. Frustrated, she pulled her hand away and let out a cry. Too weak to do anything, Akil simply lay there and watched as she paced across the cave floor, her face changing from beautiful to horrible and back to beautiful as she muttered to herself. She stopped and turned, facing Akil. The Siren stepped forward and again placed her hand on his forehead. Again, Akil could feel her digging into his mind. This time she hurriedly passed every memory not taking the time to absorb them until she found the one she was looking for. He felt her pry, trying to unlock the door he had put up to keep her out.

Akil felt a surge of strength from her failure and frustration. He could see her body shaking as she tried and failed to break through the door. In an effort that would either sap the last remaining strength from his body or set him free, Akil sent a burst of energy at the Siren. Not nearly as powerful as the first, she was simply pushed back into the large pile of treasure on the far side of the cave. Seizing the mere seconds of opportunity Akil thrust his hand into the small satchel on his belt and removed a pinch of transporting powder. He threw himself on top of the trunk and tossed the powder into the air over his head. Nothing happened.

A low guttural laugh rose from deep within the Siren as she rose to her feet. “You have promise, Akil Karanis,” she said taking a step forward. “You cannot transport to or from my kingdom. Always has it been. Now, what is it you hide so fervently? Is it more important than this book you’ve sought for much of your life?”

Akil released his grip on the trunk and fell to the ground.

“Do you know who I am?” the Siren asked.

Akil remained supine, looking up at the Siren as she spoke. His body so weak he couldn’t find the strength to lift his head.

“I am Okon ak aintzinako.”

“Impossible,” Akil replied in barley a whisper.

“I was there, Akil. I was there when your so-called Seer made his prediction.”

“Okon ak aintzinako is long dead. You are a deceiver, nothing more.”