Halfstone: A Tale of the Narathlands (19 page)

They exited from the main entrance guardedly. The body of the
ka-zchen lay in a heap where Jon had slain it. Black blood oozed from its head
and crept between cobblestones down the slope of the street. Thankfully, it
appeared that no more of the beasts had been drawn to its scent.

The city was silent. Even fewer windows were lit than before.
Midnight had come and gone. Jon could hear himself breathing as they made their
way along the dim and deserted streets.

Soon they had passed through the gateway to Akimr Gully. It would
offer them a sheltered passage between the sharp roots of the mountains to the
very doors of Delthendra. The lelylan trees which grew on either side of the
path stood much taller than Jon recalled. Hundreds of dazzling yellow fireflies
danced around their clumps of strap leaves as the wielders stole beneath.

Before one final corner which hid the lyceum from view, Jon
signalled to halt and turned to his companions.

“Well, this is it,” he said. “We must tread as half-moon shadows.
If we are outnumbered, which is likely the case, catching the enemy unprepared
is our sole advantage. We can only pray that no aeras sense us approaching.”

They continued on. The great courtyard came into view. It was cold
and still. Upon the ground, dark shapes lay scattered in the pale light—bodies,
many of them. With aching hearts the trio meandered between them. They were the
lyceum’s aera staff, but also, a number of young wielders lay amongst them,
dressed in their novice robes. Jon fought to stow his fury. Devéna’s hand
covered her mouth. She looked close to losing her balance.

“I cannot believe it,” uttered Frade in a broken voice.

Jon fixed his attention upon the entrance way. The door was ajar.
Monsters lurked within the walls beyond, those willing to take the life of
their own young. There was no pity to be felt for any of them.

He seized Devéna’s arm and held her steady. “Are you ready?”

She nodded.

“All right, we do this as one.”

They stood in a line, staffs raised in front of them, and marched
forth. A powerful warding enchantment attempted to restrict passage but it
would not withstand them. The vigour of their storm in unison overcame it. They
proceeded into the vestibule, which was a mess. Parchment and scrolls scattered
the floor. Blood was spattered on the flame-lit walls. The smell of death tainted
the air.

Out of nowhere a streak of flame collided with their warding wall,
enveloping it for a second before burning out. Devéna whirled her staff and
stone roofing collapsed down upon the attacker—a burly wielder in an ill-lit
corner. The life was crushed from him.

From inner passages the sounds of alarm broke out—shouting,
scuffling.

“Come on!” called Jon. There was no longer any call for
discretion.

They emerged into the main hallway. About ten opponents stood in
their path.

“Conflagration!” he bellowed.

Together, they wielded a rampant flame and sent it flooding forward.
It engulfed the hallway like a broken wave. There were cries as it smothered
bodies. Not all were overcome. Counter attacks came as ice, fire and arrows.
The trio’s line was broken as they fought to evade. To his right, Jon saw Frade’s
staff split apart and his robes catch alight. He made to help but suddenly
found his own staff torn from his grasp. An overwhelming power knocked him off
his feet. He was flung through the air and collapsed at the foot of the stairs
at the far end of the hallway. Devéna and Frade landed by him. Gravity held
their bodies against the ground. Jon peered up. At the top of the stairs stood
a figure clad in leather boots and deep purple robes. As it began to trudge
down toward Jon, the man’s odious face came into view. It was Malath Jayther. Jon
urgently tried to find his feet but was incapable of doing so.

Malath watched him with a pretentious smirk.

“Give in, old fool,” he demanded. “Before me your head belongs
against the ground. I am your lord, returned to power and glory.”

Jon snorted. “Glory? You know nothing of it, Malath. Look around you,
do you see any glory here?”

Malath’s gaze skimmed the hall then set on him again.

“Do I know you, wielder?” he asked, frowning. “Yes, I recall now—you
were a member of the Synod.”

“Indeed I was,” professed Jon.

“And were you not at Darkna the day…” Malath’s words trailed away.

“The day you lost your storm?” Jon inserted viciously. “The day
your futile attempt to gain the Shard of Heart’s Storm failed? Yes, yes I was.”

Two more figures appeared behind Malath. One Jon recognised as
Selayna, young as ever. The other was a stout wielder with a rough and dark
look who was only vaguely familiar.

“What is happening?” asked Selayna, staring down at them with wild
eyes.

“Defiant ones,” Malath replied over his shoulder.

The stout wielder was glaring at Jon.

“You… I know you!” he cried. “You killed me!” He made toward Jon
but Malath raised a hand.

“Now, now, Dron. These timeworn wielders, I yet hope, will see
reason and submit. They will bear witness to the cleansing tomorrow. If, then,
they still refuse to bow before me, you may have reprisal.”

Dron stepped back. He was visibly enraged but would not dare
challenge his master. Jon recognised him now. He had been at Darkna all those
years ago. The witless swine had fallen at his very own hand.

“You know we will never surrender, Jayther,” cried Devéna from
where she lay.

Malath sighed. “Many of your friends have already, Devéna. I see
no reason why you need be more foolish than them. After all, you are a wise
member of the Synod, are you not?”

“Wisdom—another thing you know nothing of,” Jon said through
gritted teeth.

The corner of Malath’s mouth twitched. “Bold words uttered from
such a demeaning stature,” he sneered, then opened his arms. “But come, you may
stand if you will.”

Jon found he was now free to find his feet. He helped Devéna up,
then Frade. Frade staggered a little. He sported burn wounds from the battle.

“Let me heal you, my friend,” Jon said, holding him steady.

“No,” Frade replied stubbornly. “I am capable.”

Jon returned his attention to Malath, who watched them with a
condescending smile still smeared across his face. The heartless wretch knew
not of the haunting sorrows he had sown.

“You are going to pay for this!” Jon yelled. “For everything!” He
fought back tears of grief.

Malath sighed again. “Please don’t think to try anything more. You
will find yourself confined.” He drew a staff from his belt and tapped the
moonstone tip.

Jon put out a hand and felt a steadfast warding wall. “So you plan
to keep us ensnared here like pests, do you?”

“Oh, not right here. I’m sure I can find a more suitable side room
in which to secure you.” Malath took a step toward Jon. “Know that I regret
having to do this, but I must. You brought it upon yourselves.”

Though he sounded sympathetic, Jon knew Malath’s words were as
hollow as his soul. He made no response. There was little to be said now. They
were defeated. Malath was more powerful than ever before. Truly, he hoped Aldrick
would not come, that he was on his way south with the others. Any steps he took
toward Malath were steps toward his doom.

Before taking the three to a small, disorganised study, Malath
revived a number of his fallen followers using his unearthly ability to flout
death. The wielder’s ghostly souls materialised above their bodies before
eagerly reclaiming them. Their hearts rekindled promptly. They rose, bewildered
for a brief time, then fell to the floor again—kneeling before their lord and
saviour. Jon watched, feeling both wonder and anguish. Nothing was achieved in
coming here. This had been his decision and it failed dismally. He had failed
everyone he ever cared for. Had he travelled directly to Darkna, he could have
at least warned the Shard’s guardian of Malath’s forthcoming arrival. But no,
instead he was here—paying the price for his foolishness.

14

THE CAVE

The last of the fire’s embers glowed softly at the centre of its
ashen bed. Kaal was snoring quietly against one of the nearby trees. Aldrick
stood with his back to her, staring beyond their lofty trunks into the sleepy,
moon-kissed surroundings. He seemed ill at ease. His fists were clenched.

It was admirable that he was here, that he had not abandoned this
quest. She liked that he cared, that he had burdened his shoulders with a
heaviness he needn’t have taken on. He was one who sought to deal justice where
it was deserved. He was one who could be relied upon, trusted. Being in his
presence was calming. In past days, he had looked out for her and aided her
equally as much as she had him. Of course, it was no secret that he had certain
feelings for her. The funny thing was that it was no longer a well-kept secret
that these feelings were shared. She had allowed him close to her, even sought
comfort in him. She could not call these feelings familiar, however. Romance
was not something a novice aera was advised to dabble in, let alone fall into.
It wasn’t meant to happen, especially with one’s own wielder! She was to remain
a loyal bodyguard and a watchful companion, nothing more. Now though, she desired
to be with Aldrick in other, more intimate ways.

She stood, keeping her travel blanket close to her shoulders, and
went to his side.

“Hello Télia.” He greeted her warmly, hiding his qualms.

“Hi,” she replied.

For a while the two of them just stood there, finding peace in
each other’s presence.

“I’m sorry. I never realised,” he began, but didn’t finish his
sentence. He was looking upon her with those sincere eyes.

It was the death of her parents he spoke of. No more had been said
since she told him of their early passing at Fort Blackbed yesterday. She
wanted to reply, but words felt an effort to utter. Instead she rested her head
against his shoulder and closed her eyes, then smiled to herself, pleased that
thoughts of her occupied his mind, among all else.

“What do you think will become of us?” he asked after a moment of
stillness.

She didn’t want to think about it now.

“Whatever is meant to,” she whispered.

“I guess so.”

When no more words came, they settled themselves down beside one
another to rest until dawn. Tomorrow they would continue the search for a
halfstone.

The morning songs of many birds woke them. Flocks were congregated
in the shelter of the canopy high above their camp. The air was cool and smelt
of strawberry plants. Wild ones crept through the tangles of grass, some still
bearing pink and white berries.

They had arrived in the area at the fall of dusk yesterday and, so
far, only managed a brief scout of the immediate surroundings in search of the
cave. It was surely close by, though so too were numerous gullies and crevasses
that could be hiding its entrance. So long as they were thorough, it was only a
matter of time before they found it.

“Perhaps we ought to split up,” Kaal suggested after a lean
breakfast.

This was a reasonable idea, she thought. “Yes, but do not stray
further than your voice can reach. We haven’t the time to lose anyone.” Based
on Sinin’s words, she estimated that today was the day Malath Jayther would
make an attempt for the Shard of Heart’s Storm. From here, Darkna was at least
a full day’s ride away. They could only pray that Malath would not be hasty to
carry out his murderous ambitions.

After seeing to their horses’ contentment, they each set off in a
different direction. Kaal went downhill to search along the banks of a river; Aldrick
toward a nearby gorge which they had espied yesterday. Télia ventured further
up the mountain, hoping to find a vantage point to examine the area in the
light of day.

Here and there, great pillars of bedrock jutted from the ground,
many overshadowing the surrounding trees. She chose one that offered stable footholds
and climbed it to its crest. The view from the top was breathtaking. For
leagues ahead of her the countryside was lower than she. Although morning mist
blanketed much of it, the highest hilltops were left free to breathe. They
appeared as islands in a calm, white ocean. Here, the world seemed at peace—an
illusion she knew did not hold in the province of Galdrem. She returned her
gaze upon the mountainside. In the distance, she could see Aldrick making his
way into the jaws of the gorge. It looked to be a narrow and damp place. Her
eyes followed its meandering walls into the mountains. It led from the base of
a sheer limestone cliff. This was strange, for a stream trailed from the gorge’s
mouth into the river below. Where had the water come from…? Underground! Aldrick
was heading right for the cave! Excitement brewed in her. She clambered down
and hurried to catch up with him—they would find the entrance together.

Aldrick was well into the gorge when she reached him. His
attention was occupied by a lively black fantail that flitted around in the air
a short way ahead of him. He turned in alarm upon hearing her footsteps but
smiled when he saw it was her.

“It is showing me the way,” he said cheerfully, gesturing to the
bird.

“Yes, your path is true.”

He looked a little surprised. “How do you know?”

She brushed one boot through the water. “This stream comes from
nowhere.”

He nodded in understanding. “Ah… we’ll see about that.”

They followed the gorge for a further few minutes until the cliff
face loomed ahead of them. The gorge widened significantly at its base,
allowing daylight in. Green ferns claimed the ground, taking advantage of both
the light and the sediment-rich soil. Within these ferns, a number of deer and
goat skeletons lay—likely the result of misplaced steps in ill weather.
Somewhat ominously, they now adorned the opening of a vast, black void in the
mountainside. As Télia had supposed, the stream flowed from within.

“We’ve found it!” she cried delightedly.

They spontaneously hugged one another. This felt like their first
victory in a while.

“Come on.” Aldrick entered the cave, igniting a flame above his
palm to light the way. She followed. Something felt strange. Yet, it wasn’t
strange at all; it was very familiar, only more intense. A wealth of storm
dwelled within the darkness, somewhere far below them. It must be coming from
halfstones!

“Aldrick, watch your step,” she cautioned, noting that the ground
beneath them was wet stone.

The water was springing from a small crevice in one wall of the
cave. Beyond it, a wide passage trailed downward, spiralling into the
blackness. It had probably been carved by the water many years ago when it took
a different course.

Glow worms shone in the ceiling ahead of them, each one a distant
star in a midnight sky.

“I hope those aren’t the ‘stones’ my father mentioned,” Aldrick
said, gazing up at them.

She shook her head. “No. There are halfstones here. I feel them.”

“Look!” Aldrick pointed up at the worms, at something else which
glowed faintly green amongst them. It was a small fragment of halfstone.

She couldn’t help but squeal. “Yes!”

Aldrick peered around. “I see no pieces of a decent size.”

“Well, it has been twenty years since your father was here. The
obvious ones may have since been snatched by adventurers or wandering hunters.”

“We’ll have to go further in.” Aldrick stepped forward.

“Careful….”

He slipped. Télia watched in horror as his head struck stone and
his body became limp. He began to slide away from her. She launched herself
forward and grabbed his leg. Now she was being pulled with him. It was pitch
black. His flame had died. Frantically she searched for something to grab hold
of and save them both. Her arm struck a jutting boulder and she latched on to
it. In the same moment the ground beneath Aldrick’s body disappeared. Now he
was hanging, saved from falling only by her grasp.

“Aldrick, wake up,” she pleaded. “Come on, use your storm, idiot.”
He didn’t respond. “Kaal… Kaal!” Her grip was weakening. Slowly, he was pulling
away from her. “No. No, I won’t let you go! I won’t let you, Aldrick. No!!”

He fell from her.

She closed her eyes. Seconds passed. The sound of his body landing
didn’t come. She covered her mouth and screamed. This couldn’t be… this
couldn’t be his end. What had she done?!

For a long time she remained there, praying that she would
suddenly hear Aldrick shouting to tell her that he was all right. He didn’t. An
abyss was opening inside her heart.

“Aldrick…”

She was alone now.

With feeble care, she crawled back to level ground and found her
feet. She turned one last time and stared blankly back into the darkness. There
was nothing, just the indifferent sound of the water flowing by her. She left.

Kaal’s face drained the moment he saw her approaching. She must
have appeared the ruin she was.

“What has happened?” he asked nervously.

She stood in front of him, light-headed and shaking.

“Kaal…” she began. “Your brother… he fell.”