Storm Holt (The Prophecies of Zanufey Book 3) (27 page)

Several wizards raised sceptical eyebrows now as they had when he’d last spoken to them through the orb. For a moment it seemed all the ancient prophecies swam in Freydel’s mind, and he wished he had the time to tell them and show them everything he’d witnessed. He raised his hands in placation.

‘Before you judge I would ask you to be open-minded, and try to recall all that you can of the ancient scriptures and prophecies, whether you believe in them or not. You all know the prophecies about the dark moon even though you might have forgotten them. Grenahyme was particularly versed in them, and I too became well-versed after he entrusted many of his prophetic books to me. It was a raven that led me to Issa, ship-wrecked as she was on Celenian shores. You know that the raven is the messenger of the Zanufey. But few people now remember what once our ancient ancestors knew.
 

‘That the planet, our Maioria, has cycles, just like each moon has a cycle and the sun too. We vaguely manage to track these cycles by using the term “Ages,” but our efforts are not so accurate. Nevertheless, my friends, I believe a new age is dawning upon us other than the “Last Age” that was forced upon this planet by Baelthrom. The new age is coming with the rising of the dark moon and the goddess Zanufey oversees this new age.
 

Navarr shook his head and spoke his mind. ‘I don’t believe this goddess is with us, if there ever was such a goddess.’

In the past such open denial of the goddess, in any of her guises, would have caused gasps of disbelief, but the learned men said nothing. Luren and Domenon even nodded in agreement.
 

“But the wise men will not believe…”
written translations of the Nameless One came to him then. Freydel sighed. Losing belief in the goddess, and the hopelessness that went with it, was a sickness spreading across the known world. Baelthrom’s coming had planted the seeds of doubt, and it had been growing steadily ever since as the prayers of his victims went forever unanswered and the future turned dark.
 

‘A month ago I would have agreed with you,’ Freydel began. ‘But the extraordinary events that have come to pass involving the dark moon and Issa I cannot easily ignore. I would be a fool to ignore. When the raven tapped on my window at dawn all those weeks ago, everything changed.’
 

Freydel took a deep breath and told them everything that had happened since he had found Issa and everything that he knew of the young and naive woman from the Isle of Kammy.

‘I did not want her to face Keteth, despite knowing the power she could wield,’ Freydel concluded. ‘But my hand was forced by Cirosa, the High Priestess of Celene - and next in line to the Oracle might I add. In matters of the goddess, and of course the goddess’s chosen one, the Temple has the final say.’

Averen and Haelgon looked intrigued, whilst Luren, Drumblodd and Domenon looked unmoved.

‘There are three potential Children of the Raven,’ Domenon said, and everyone looked at him in surprise, including Freydel. ‘But only one will be strong enough to become the Raven Queen. Should such a warrior exist, of course.’

Freydel gave a half smile, allowing the man a little more respect for his knowledge of the prophecies.

‘I, too, am well versed in the prophecies,
many
prophecies, not just those of Zanufey and the dark moon,’ Domenon said, his eyes lingering upon Freydel. ‘The Raven Queen of prophecy will bear a mark somewhere upon her body. A mark neither there from birth nor made by any weapon. A mark that appears when she’s coming into her power.’
 

Freydel swallowed. He did not know these prophecies, and he had not seen a mark upon Issa nor had she mentioned one. Domenon was sceptical about her, so it was unlikely he was making these prophecies up. Though the man would support anything that served his own interests, whatever they might be.
 

“The mark of the goddess, the mark of the messenger, the mark of the alter self,” Domenon recounted from scripture.

‘I’m not familiar with these scriptures. Who wrote them? Where are the texts?’ Freydel said.

Domenon smiled as if he’d scored a victory. ‘As I said, I’m well-versed in many prophecies. I have a collection of some of the most ancient books upon Maioria. That quote is from the Book of Ages. A book that compiles pre-ancient literature and fragments of history from ancient inscriptions found on long lost temples. There is only one copy of this book, and I keep it in my private library within Rebben Castle. Perhaps we can arrange for you to visit it sometime?’

Freydel grimaced then forced a nod. ‘I would like that.’ How he could have missed any book on the topic of the Raven Queen was a source of dismay. That Domenon had such priceless information at his fingertips left a bitter taste in his mouth.

‘I choose not to believe in the goddess,’ Domenon continued, adjusting the ruby ring on his finger. ‘At least not in order to enrich my life or bring me the things that I desire. It follows, then, that I am not one for prophecies. The thought of fate makes me feel… unwell. I prefer to live my life as I wish, and learn from my own mistakes and experiences regardless of there being a deity to guide me. Destiny is simply a choker on a spirit who longs for freedom. Whether or not the prophecies are true remains to be seen. Personally I’d prefer not to believe in them or waste my time with them, but it does not make them false or non-existent. I have enough of an open mind to realise that.’

‘It’s all nonsense,’ Drumblodd scoffed.
 

Luren yawned and Navarr fidgeted as if wanting to get back to his tasks.

‘Gentlemen, whether you want to believe them or not, that is up to you,’ Freydel addressed them all. ‘This young woman, barely a beginner in the arcane arts, destroyed Keteth with her abilities. This cannot be denied. In truth I did not want to believe the ramblings of mad men and women, and on this topic I had many discussions with a similarly sceptical High Priestess of Celene.’

The wizards began talking to each other all at once, so that Freydel could not make out what was said. Only Coronos remained silent. Frowns and nods, sighs and laughs of disbelief filled the air. It was Coronos’ quiet voice that stilled them to silence again.

‘It’s very clear to me and all that I’ve witnessed, that Baelthrom and Keteth both felt the power in her, and perhaps the threat or asset she might become to them. Baelthrom desires her so much that he would strain his forces this far south and risk his lands up north.’

Freydel smiled at the wise man’s words. ‘Indeed, Coronos. Baelthrom is no fool. Perhaps it is foolish old men like us who don’t want to believe there could be powerful magic moving in the world once more.’

‘There is definitely a new magic moving in the world once more,’ Averen said. ‘Or perhaps it’s an old magic rekindled with the blue moon that rises. But talk of prophecies aside, for we have talked much on them before now. Freydel, you suggest there is more to your calling the Wizards’ Circle.’

‘Yes, I digress,’ Freydel agreed. ‘After Issa arrived, much happened in such a short amount of time…’ He thought back to the time just before he called the Wizards’ Circle. It seemed so long ago now.

‘I was in my study on Celene as normal. Everything was as it should be,
everything was fine.
I used the orb to scry for her, for Issa. I knew Keteth was gone, the Flow told me that. I saw her alive, and the Wykiry were with her. Then I saw Maphraxie war ships and Dread Dragons. They were so close to Celene, it had to be an attack. I had to warn everyone. I called the Wizards’ Circle to warn you all of Celene and to ask for you assistance…’ Freydel’s voice wavered. Coronos watched him, seemed about to speak, then looked away with a frown. Freydel dropped his gaze to stare at the four orbs, hoping to seek strength from them.

‘Freydel, we are all deeply saddened by the loss of Celene,’ Averen breathed.

‘Aye, there was little we could have done,’ Drumblodd said.

‘What is done is now done,’ Freydel said and told them why the call failed. The wizards listened silently as he described how Baelthrom had chased him, and how he’d lost his staff and become trapped in the astral planes. He told them of the purer power of the orb in the astral, and how he travelled back and forward in time. Worried glances were shared when he spoke about the High Priestess of Celene, and that she may have betrayed them, and of how Yisufalni came to him when he was dying. He wouldn’t be here if Arla hadn’t reached him, and that was they were both here, and thankfully alive.
 

The one thing he did not tell them, for good or ill he would never know, was meeting the beings beyond the stars, and of Ayeth. For some reason he could not bring himself to do so, he needed more time to think about what had happened. Perhaps he also did not want them to know that travelling to another planet entirely could be done. He finally fell silent, and the other men looked at each other dumb-founded. Even impassive Domenon looked shocked as he stared at the orbs.

‘Can it really be Yisufalni?’ Averen said.

‘She was most certainly an Ancient, such as the orbs have shown us of their makers. What do you know of her?’ Freydel asked.

‘Yisufalni was the last female to sit upon the Wizards’ Circle, although in the Ancient’s days it wasn’t called that, though I don’t remember what it was called. She was a High Priestess and a princess, daughter of King Fulucia of the Usteralax people. That’s all I know of her for that is all that’s recorded in the old records. Perhaps she watches us from afar, whether from this life or the next, who knows,’ Averen replied, his eyes shone with wonder. Everyone seemed to be considering what it meant.
 

Arla stirred and gave a small murmur, bringing Freydel back to his responsibilities.

‘The child is sick, maybe with a cold or fever. I have not the necessary herbs and potions to treat her here.’ He frowned down at the child curled up in blankets. Deep worry for the girl nagged at him. It seemed more than just a fever. ‘I don’t know the extent of it, but she communicates with this Yisufalni. Perhaps she can tell us more when she’s well again. But I must get her to a better place and soon. Maybe when we’re done here I can take her somewhere with good healers. I have no home to return to…’ he trailed off into little more than a whisper.

‘You are welcome at Castle Carvon,’ Navarr leaned forwards. ‘There is plenty of room. And since Coronos is joining us, maybe we should make of it a celebration. But for now my worry lies on what the enemy plans next. They won’t stop at Celene, that was just a warning, a show of might. I must ready Frayon’s western coast for attack immediately.’ Navarr clenched his fists and scowled.

‘I shall take you up on that, Navarr, your healers are skilled,’ Freydel said. ‘As soon as we are together we will plan how to protect Frayon. Warn the Feylint Halanoi as soon as you return.’

He wanted to set the king’s mind at ease, but could think of nothing to say. Attack was imminent, there was no ease to be found.

‘It would be good to spend some time with you, Freydel,’ Coronos said. ‘And you needn’t worry about Issa, she’s safe and well. My son looks out for her, and has taken quite a shine to her.’ There was a twinkle in Coronos’ eye.

‘Son?’ Freydel asked and the others looked at him in surprise.

‘Adopted son. It’s a long story.’ Coronos smiled and hesitated. A frown of pain or concern crossed his face, ‘but he is as dear to me as my own daughter was. It’s been so long since I have been in the Old World, and even then I never really talked to the Circle about my love life, so you may have forgotten that the Lady Eleny of Celene was my daughter.’ Coronos’ voice did not break, remarkably, but his sorrow was tangible.

Ely.
Freydel gripped the arms of his chair so tight that his knuckles cracked. He’d driven down his feelings for Celene just so he could survive up to this point. With everything that had happened, he’d not had a chance to think about anything other than his own desperate survival. Now Coronos’ words seemed about to break him. It hit him at once, and he would have fallen had he been standing. Ely was gone. It didn’t feel true. The other wizards looked at the ground, and shook their heads not knowing what to say.
 

‘I hadn’t forgotten, Coronos,’ Freydel lied, his voice barely a whisper as their eyes met. For a moment the two men shared their silent sorrow.
 

‘If there’s anything I can do, please let me know. Ely was a dear friend of mine.’ Freydel’s voice cracked. He tried to think of Ely now and found he simply couldn’t bring her face to mind. He couldn’t bear to think about the fate of the people of Celene.
I should have died with them…
 

‘Sometimes I wish I were back there, on the Uncharted Lands with the Kuapoh people,’ Coronos spoke wistfully, as if to himself. ‘It was a hard but happy twenty-five years of my life away from the scourge that eats Maioria. Now I’m back I don’t know if I can cope with witnessing those I love taken from me again. But then I knew Baelthrom would go there too, in time. There’s no safe place in the whole world.’

‘Tell us about your time with Issa,’ asked Freydel, desperately needing to break his thoughts of Ely. ‘I would like very much to know your experiences and opinions. Tell us what happened after Keteth was slain. We must know everything there is to know.’