A Blackbird In Darkness (Book 2) Page 11

  ‘I know not how much damage this powder could do to you or to your Regions,’ he said. ‘Will you take the chance, or will you let us go?’

  ‘Aha, a challenge!’ cried the demon, while Limir took off and circled menacingly over their heads. ‘I will take a chance. Let us fight, Prince of Gorethria!’

  Swiftly Ashurek drew the stopper from the phial and cast a pinch of the powder into the air. It formed a glittering gold curtain around Silvren, Calorn and himself, dazzling in the darkness. A feeling of protective warmth came from it, though it also seemed insubstantial, for it was formed only of soft motes of light. Moving forward with the light-curtain around him like a shield, Ashurek bent – like a man turning into a gale – to face the demon’s power.

  Grinning, Ahag-Ga began to raise its arms and silver fire crackled to meet the gold. Ashurek felt Silvren mustering what little sorcery she could to help him, although that feeling was suffocated as he began to sense the mounting of distant powers.

  It was suddenly as if he were standing below a dark, forbidding mountain range whose sides were scarred by ancient battles and whose desolate peaks were haunted by birds like Limir, forlornly screeching. And on the highest peak, as if from a domain of evil gods, a dread power was accumulating. All the ancient anger of the Serpent, all the jealousy and vile power of demons, the bloodlust of Gorethria, the leering insanity of those who bargained with demons – all was swirling into a thunderous sphere of power.

  Ashurek was alone below the dark thunder of the mountain range, laughing with hunger – waiting for that dark, dread sphere to roll heavily down towards him. And now the cumulus of power was approaching, gathering wisps of evil as it rolled, growing ever larger and more terrible, like all the thunder and violence the world had ever known. And part of him desired that power, lusted for its terrible might to enter and overtake him. It was the fire that had driven his ancestors to conquer their Empire. It was the malevolent fever of the Egg-Stone and the gross, infinite energy of the Serpent. It was the calling of the dark blood within him.

  And it was everything he had given up for Silvren’s sake.

  Beside him, Calorn was struggling in a different way. Ahag-Ga was on the point of possessing her.

  ‘It is a most simple bargain,’ the demon was saying. ‘I can grant your freedom instantly: you will find yourself back on Earth, relieved of this pain. All I require is that you summon me from time to time, give me some small assistance...’

  The silver aura was swimming in front of Calorn’s eyes, filling her with an unbearable sensation of pressure. Ashurek and Silvren had, for her, ceased to exist. All she knew was that if she only surrendered to the darkness, to the distant thrumming of a membrane stretched like an eardrum across the universe, her pain would be relieved. The membrane would burst. She could go to sleep.

  ‘Help me,’ she whispered.

  The demon grinned. It knew she was appealing not to Ashurek, but to itself for help. It held her balanced on one hand, the Gorethrian on the other, and both were about to break. The curtain was weakening. It only needed Ashurek to say yes to the dark and terrible power he so obviously desired. Say yes, yes! Say yes –

  Ashurek saw his father upon the dark mountain, and the old Emperor was speaking. Ashurek, would you fail me again? Take your power! It is your birthright.

  Father! he cried as the thunderous sphere rolled inexorably towards him. Let the power be mine – so that I can set right all the harm Meshurek did. He stretched his arms wide, laughing exultantly as he welcomed the evil cumulus of power as his own. No conflict, no bitter torment within him now. Why had he not known before that this was his appointed destiny?

  Suddenly there was a woman between him and the power, standing in its path. She was slender with eyes, skin and long hair each a different shade of deep gold.

  ‘I don’t care,’ she was saying. ‘The truth is – I cannot stand to be alone any longer. I can’t stand it. Can you?’

  ‘Silvren!’ he screamed as the dark sphere swallowed her. ‘No! No!’

  Calorn did not hear Ashurek’s cries, for she too was shouting in protest. From some unstoppable source within her, logic came forth to fight the demon’s illogic.

  ‘What Earth?’ she cried. ‘My Earth is not yours – so which would you send me to?’ And thinking of her own world, she then remembered H’tebhmella. A red fire ignited in all her muscles – the fire of who she was, what she believed in. It gave her the strength to thrash away from the demon’s evil. Wrenching herself backwards, she collided with Ashurek, then half-fell to the ground.

  In unison they shouted, ‘No!’

  The last of the gold light and the last of the argent lightning crackled away to nothing. Ashurek and Calorn slowly returned to the grim reality of the Dark Regions. The remainder of the powder in the phial was as dead as salt. Ahag-Ga had neutralized its energy, but the Shanin’s own power was also spent, and it had failed to overcome Ashurek or Calorn. They stood in stalemate.

  ‘I maintained the power as long as I could,’ Silvren said softly into the silence. ‘I’m sorry.’

  Ashurek looked at her, relief flooding him as he realised that her destruction by the dark sphere had been an illusion – a figment of his own tortured imagination.

  ‘You saved us,’ he said. ‘We could not have resisted without your help.’

  ‘The powder is useless now,’ Ahag-Ga’s voice tore the atmosphere like a saw. It folded its arms, stretched its mouth into a red sneer. ‘So is she, though that is nothing new. Saved, but to undergo your trial and accept your sentence!’

  ‘You are bluffing, Ahag-Ga,’ said Ashurek. ‘You have exhausted your strength fighting us. You have no more power now than we do.’

  ‘That is hardly important,’ replied the demon gleefully, ‘when I have so much help at hand...’ It extended an arm, and Ashurek was aware of an awful silver glow on the periphery of his vision. He and Calorn looked round and saw, encircling the mound, some thirty demons. All were hissing and laughing with anticipation, awaiting the next move in the scene being enacted above them.

  ‘Oh, but don’t you think one or two would have been enough, Ahag-Ga?’ exclaimed Limir. ‘This argument is so entertaining, I would hate them to be too frightened to continue it!’

  Ahag-Ga nodded and laughed maliciously.

  ‘Now, back to business. Limir, bring Exhal forward.’ The malign bird flapped the few yards along the narrow walkway to where Exhal was standing, and began to peck and worry at him in a way that made Calorn shudder. Exhal reluctantly ambled forward. His red eyes rolled wildly as he came, and his tongue lolled over his wolfish teeth.

  ‘The prime witness to your appalling act,’ said Ahag-Ga to Ashurek and Calorn. ‘Exhal, tell all of us assembled here the violence you saw perpetrated upon poor Limir.’

  The huge ox-creature hesitated for several seconds, breathing heavily as if about to explode with rage.

  ‘They – Limir tried–’ he stammered gutturally. He appeared torn. Limir had tried to kill him; the two humans had tried to save him. But now Limir was still alive – so the humans failed him, the betrayers. ‘They did indeed try to murder Limir!’ he roared. ‘They deserve their fate!’

  Ahag-Ga turned a sinister red smile upon the huge beast. ‘Exhal, my friend,’ it said solemnly. ‘Is that all you have to say?’ The herdsman gave a nod. ‘Perhaps you should think again. A confession at this stage might help your case.’

  Exhal’s great frame visibly rocked with fury and sudden fear.

  ‘Case?’ he managed to growl.

  ‘Your long-standing dissatisfaction with your lot and insubordination to your superiors is well known. You have frequently insulted Limir – your dislike of that noble bird is no secret. And we know that you actually gave help to the two humans.’ There were mocking murmurs of ‘Shame!’ from the Shana below. ‘It is becoming obvious that you are as guilty as they. What say you, Limir?’

  ‘I have to state that Exhal did in fact play an active part in my
attempted murder,’ said the hell-bird with a leer that chilled Calorn’s blood. ‘He stuck a hoof in my stomach while Prince Ashurek broke my neck. My neck still hurts,’ Limir added peevishly.

  ‘So, fellow Shana,’ Ahag-Ga roared, ‘do you find the herdsman Exhal guilty?’

  ‘Oh, yes, yes indeed,’ the assembled demons muttered, looking at each other and laughing as if at some fascinating and amusing stage scene.

  ‘Carry out the sentence, Limir,’ said Ahag-Ga.

  As Limir rose into the air, screeching metallically, Exhal began to roar, ‘Traitors! Betrayers, all of you! I was your herdsman – where will you find another? And you – humans of the round Earth – you pretended to help me – you accepted my help when all the time you were betraying and mocking me – your bargains are more hollow and worthless than the Shana’s! Betrayers!’

  Limir circled him, allowing the outburst to continue, enjoying the herdsman’s pain.

  ‘Traitors! Scum! Now you are all going to pay! Who is loyal to me but my herd?’ Exhal pulled himself up to his full height and awkwardly stretched out his front feet, brandishing the short stick. Words, slow and deep and awkward, came from his throat. Yet they were as powerful and unstoppable as a lava flow.

  If it were possible for a demon to blanch, Ahag-Ga did.

  Below them, the glow of the Shana flickered and lost strength. They were turning to one another with exclamations of astonishment and fear. Limir was screaming in rage, but could not drown Exhal’s voice.

  Along the walkway, the human herd were swaying and groaning and shaking their heads.

  ‘Limir!’ Ahag-Ga cried. ‘Silence him!’

  Just as when they had met Exhal out on the black marsh, Limir descended like a lead arrow on the ox-beast. The attack was vicious. Grey blood spurted everywhere, spattering Ashurek, Calorn and Silvren. Exhal staggered, struggling for life, still groaning out the terrible words. By the time he fell, his head was half-severed.

  His body shook the mound as it toppled, then rolled off and hit the ground below.

  Yet the words continued.

  Ahag-Ga, Limir and Calorn all looked around wildly to see who was speaking them, and saw that Ashurek was now staring at the six-legged human-creatures, standing as rigid as a tree blackened and hardened by fire. He had picked up the short stick and the words of Exhal’s spell came with strength and assurance from his mouth.

  ‘Do something! Stop him!’ Ahag-Ga appealed to the fellow demons standing below him. Half of them had already disappeared, and the others were backing away, their skin dull with fear. ‘Limir!’

  ‘It’s too late,’ said Limir, flopping onto the mound like an empty sack.

  And the human herd opened their eyes. Not all of them, for only Exhal could have opened all their eyes, but enough.

  Ashurek looked at Ahag-Ga. The rest of the demons had fled.

  ‘Now you will let us go,’ he said.

  Never had he seen such dismay on the face of a demon. The expression made it look almost human. He had no idea what harm the opening of the herd’s eyes could cause, but the extreme fear of Ahag-Ga and Limir was real enough.

  ‘Yes,’ said Ahag-Ga. ‘You had better go – but not her.’ It pointed at Silvren.

  ‘You have no choice,’ said Ashurek, angered.

  Before he could usher Silvren forward, she said, ‘I have a choice. I told you, I must stay here. Don’t make me explain again, it hurts too much.’

  ‘Silvren, come on! I told you it was all a lie of the Shana’s – you’ll see that as soon as we reach the Blue Plane!’ Ashurek cried in distress. He could see the determination in her eyes.

  ‘No,’ she said.

  ‘If you don’t leave her, I will send an emanation of darkness through to the Blue Plane after you that will taint it for all time.’ The demon spoke flatly and with no trace of its former mockery. It was evidently terrified of the punishment it would receive if Diheg-El and Meheg-Ba returned and found Silvren gone.

  ‘Can it do that?’ Ashurek asked Silvren disbelievingly.

  ‘Yes, it can. Its loss of power won’t last much longer. You’d better go.’

  ‘Ashurek, the humans are starting to close their eyes again,’ said Calorn: ‘Hurry, before it’s too late.’

  ‘Go without me, please,’ Silvren implored. ‘For the sake of the Blue Plane, if nothing else.’ She took one of his hands and kissed it, but he could not bring himself to kiss her in return; he felt too cold, destroyed. How could a kiss bring him or her any comfort?

  ‘I will continue the Quest,’ he said dully. She nodded, giving no indication that she still wanted him to – and she was the one who’d set him upon it in the first place.

  Then Ashurek started to walk up the narrow brownish bridge that curved upwards from the top of the mound. Calorn tried to give Silvren a smile of encouragement before she followed, but failed. Ahag-Ga had closed its hands on Silvren’s shoulders, and Limir was squatting possessively in front of her. Calorn was glad Ashurek had not seen that.

  They had to squeeze past each of the pale human-cattle on the walkway in turn, and their progress was slow. Most of them had their eyes shut again, and their faces were unchanged – pale and sombre death-masks. They swayed and groaned faintly, oblivious to Ashurek and Calorn, oblivious that their herdsman lay dead below.

  ‘Ashurek, how did you know the words of that incantation?’ she called to him.

  ‘How did I know?’ he said sharply, glancing round. ‘The words were written in Exhal’s eyes!’

  Calorn shrugged and bent her mind to finding the rest of the way out of the Dark Regions. The walkway was growing steeper and it was a struggle to climb and negotiate their way past the herd. As they passed the stragglers, Calorn noticed that two still had their eyes open. The eyes were fully human, alert and intelligent, seeming not to belong in the witless, sorrowful faces. Shivering, she passed them by, but noticed that Ashurek had begun to climb much faster. Now she could barely keep up with him.

  Just ahead, the bridge vanished into darkness. She dreaded losing sight of him before she knew what lay ahead. A rank breeze began to moan around them, thick with swirling particles. Calorn strained to reach Ashurek, but she could not catch her breath. She was choking on the dense air, becoming sick and faint. He was out of sight – then, suddenly, it no longer mattered. The breeze became a roaring wind that bore them both off the bridge and away into darkness.

  They were hurtling at inestimable speed through a void. Ashurek uttered a despairing cry as his last chance of returning to Silvren was torn from him. Now he could not breathe, and unconsciousness – or death – was tugging his mind into its dark flow. He fought it desperately. Each time the darkness submerged him, he was again confronted by the horror of those eyes – the eyes of the two human-cattle, which he had recognised as those of his sister Orkesh and his brother Meshurek.

  Chapter Five. ‘I was alive here.’

  A figure drifted through Estarinel’s dreams, a girl whose silver-fair hair obscured her face as she leaned over an ancient, hand-bound volume of illuminations. His sister, Arlena. Strange that she had so loved books, when in all other ways she had been adventurous, outgoing and wild. She would have set off on the Quest brave and laughing, like Calorn... He remembered how they used to race their horses, or how she used to ride over the rim of the valley to greet him, her silver hair flying and her eyes full of laughter. Then there was Lothwyn, dark-haired and quiet, so like their father. It seemed he had hardly known them, for both had used few words and devoted themselves with quiet affection to their work; his father to the sheep and lambs, Lothwyn to her weaving. Then he dreamed of his mother, leaning on a fence outside the house and watching, with her clear amber eyes, the mares and foals she had so lovingly tended. Ah, the horses, they were gone too. Memories of love, affection and contentment drifted through his mind, as if he were saying goodbye to them.

  Yet there was no pain in the dream. The tranquillizing power of tears and exhaustion had helped him to a
ccept, for the time being, the loss. As he slowly drifted out of sleep he felt heavy as lead but calm, as if recovering from a long illness. The faint golden light of dawn was shimmering through the window. Medrian lay curled against his shoulder, her hair spread like glossy black silk across his chest. She, above all, had saved him from insanity.

  He gently wrapped his arms around her and kissed her head, trying not to wake her. Images of their journey drifted across his memory, distant and enigmatic as dreams. How he had killed a man, before he’d even had time for doubt, to save her on Hrannekh Ol. And how, after that time, and after the battle with Arlenmia’s mercenaries, she had spoken to him – reached out to him from the strange cold darkness of her soul – trying to lessen his pain. Or had she been trying to show him a way to be as callous as she was, so that she’d be sure he would have the strength to complete the Quest? It was as though she had seen straight through him from the start, seeing his growing fondness for her... and, at every opportunity, had tried to warn him away. Everything she had said and done – such as the time Arlenmia had stabbed her in the neck, and her sinister horse had died instead – should have proved her some sort of fiend, less than human, a creature of the Serpent. But no. Instead he had fallen in love with her.

  She had said she could only function by not feeling anything, and he had observed how she encased her being in ice, numbing herself against all emotion. Anything that threatened to dissolve that protective shield caused her acute distress. He knew she’d have been happier if he could have been hostile to her, or at least indifferent, but he could not. It was totally against his nature. And besides, he had always sensed that behind her coldness she was crying, crying for help... Did it hurt her even more to be offered that help, when she knew she could not accept it?

  He wished he understood her. He wished he knew why last night she had been colder than ever, then changed so suddenly, going completely against everything she’d tried to make him think she was. Something had broken within her... Oh, Medrian, Medrian, is it possible I have harmed you by caring for you? If so, forgive me. You’ve haunted me since I met you…