The Scourge of Muirwood
Page 29
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Using the orb for light, she entered the cave and found a spot of dry sand where she stretched out after removing her rucksack and bow and settled down with her cloak as a blanket. She set the orb in the sand and summoned fire into it, using its glowing surface to warm her hands and body. Weariness engulfed her and she lay her head down, banishing the light from the orb with a thought and felt the darkness shroud her. She could not see, not even her hands before her face, but she could hear the murmur of the sea foam. In the darkness, she thought of Colvin.
Her memories flitted this way and that, like little butterflies scattering over a well-known patch of sunny grass. The first journey was through the mist to the cave where Maderos lived, a spot where the boulders floated in the air, suspended by the Medium’s power, where she had helped him find shelter from the sheriff of Mendenhall. She remembered next crouching over his body as Almaguer’s men had kicked him and abused him. In her mind, she saw Colvin as she walked away from the fire consuming a stand of oak trees after summoning it to destroy the evil men. He had caught her and carried her to a safe place where she slept. She remembered the promise of meeting again at Whitsunday, a whispered promise that he had not fulfilled because of his duty to find and protect Ellowyn Demont. She sighed deeply, jealous of the year the two had spent together, and jealous now of the time they were together in Dahomey.
Colvin had returned at last, surprising her one night in the kitchen. She squirmed at the memory of shouting at him, itching and healing from a poisonous sap that had stained her. Another memory – despite the dirt, the tattered hunters garb, the spots of mud and grime, he had let her hold his hands to warm and comfort him in a cave beneath the Muirwood grounds. She savored the memory, the intimacy of the moment. But not as much as she savored another cave, made of ash and charred wood – high in the mountains of Pry-Ree. She would never forget that dark frigid night, huddled together in the husk of a fallen tree so huge its roots had forged a cave. It was a moment she would always remember – the night he had finally confessed his love.
Closing her eyes, she reached out to him with her thoughts. Colvin?
He was so far away, in another country, in an Abbey that could no longer be reached by the Apse Veil. If the Medium could connect worlds, could it not bridge such a distance?
There was nothing in reply. No flicker of thought or awareness other than her own. Her heart twisted with pain at being away from him. She would have given all she possessed to find a way to be with him at that moment. It was a desperate yearning, a craving so strong it stung her eyes with tears. In the quiet of the cave, it felt as if she were all alone in the world.
Lia shifted in the sand, sitting up and feeling her emotions swell inside her. The weight of it came crashing down on her. What if they failed? What if she failed? What was she supposed to do at Dochte Abbey? Warn them that the Blight was coming? But would they listen to her as a wretched and not Ellowyn, who had the appearance of a lady of rank? In her mind, she had clung to a secret wish that after rescuing Colvin and Ellowyn, they would return to Muirwood and ask the Aldermaston to marry them and bind that marriage with an irrevocare sigil before the end came. The binding would last forever and Colvin would be hers. That is what she wanted, even more than learning to read and engrave.
The doubts began to play with her then. The sneaking doubts that poked at her, jabbed her with icy fingers.
What if Colvin changed his mind? What if Pareigis won and managed to turn over Muirwood to the Aldermaston of Augustin before she returned? What if there were no Abbeys left by the time she and Colvin met?
Her heart raced. Her blood pounded in her ears. She had not known who she truly was when he had left her. He had been in love with her for most of his life – at least in love with the idea of her. She would be sixteen. He was twenty. In her mind, she had imagined there being time to marry. If not Muirwood, then Tintern surely. The Aldermaston in Pry-Ree knew her true identity. Would he perform the binding ceremony? But what if the Queen Dowager learned of Tintern’s existence? What if there were no Abbeys left in the world?
Lia squeezed her hands together, pushing another thought into the aether. Colvin, can you hear me? Colvin, my love, can you hear my thoughts? I am Ellowyn Demont. Please hear me – I am she. I am coming, my love. I am coming for you.
She paused, holding her breath – listening to her thoughts, her insights, her connection and strength with the Medium.
She heard nothing save the crashing of the waves.
* * *
Lia abandoned the shelter at dawn. She used the Leering at the mouth of the cave to summon water to drink and bathe in. Her hair was an impossible mess, but she held it up and let the water splash on her neck and then soak her hair. Long ago, Colvin had held up her hair while she bathed. The memory made it difficult to think. She wiped the soot from her face, cleansed the ash from her hair and brought fire to summoning, enough to make the water steam. A seagull looped in the sky above her, as if curious about the human invading its cliffs.
Her memories flitted this way and that, like little butterflies scattering over a well-known patch of sunny grass. The first journey was through the mist to the cave where Maderos lived, a spot where the boulders floated in the air, suspended by the Medium’s power, where she had helped him find shelter from the sheriff of Mendenhall. She remembered next crouching over his body as Almaguer’s men had kicked him and abused him. In her mind, she saw Colvin as she walked away from the fire consuming a stand of oak trees after summoning it to destroy the evil men. He had caught her and carried her to a safe place where she slept. She remembered the promise of meeting again at Whitsunday, a whispered promise that he had not fulfilled because of his duty to find and protect Ellowyn Demont. She sighed deeply, jealous of the year the two had spent together, and jealous now of the time they were together in Dahomey.
Colvin had returned at last, surprising her one night in the kitchen. She squirmed at the memory of shouting at him, itching and healing from a poisonous sap that had stained her. Another memory – despite the dirt, the tattered hunters garb, the spots of mud and grime, he had let her hold his hands to warm and comfort him in a cave beneath the Muirwood grounds. She savored the memory, the intimacy of the moment. But not as much as she savored another cave, made of ash and charred wood – high in the mountains of Pry-Ree. She would never forget that dark frigid night, huddled together in the husk of a fallen tree so huge its roots had forged a cave. It was a moment she would always remember – the night he had finally confessed his love.
Closing her eyes, she reached out to him with her thoughts. Colvin?
He was so far away, in another country, in an Abbey that could no longer be reached by the Apse Veil. If the Medium could connect worlds, could it not bridge such a distance?
There was nothing in reply. No flicker of thought or awareness other than her own. Her heart twisted with pain at being away from him. She would have given all she possessed to find a way to be with him at that moment. It was a desperate yearning, a craving so strong it stung her eyes with tears. In the quiet of the cave, it felt as if she were all alone in the world.
Lia shifted in the sand, sitting up and feeling her emotions swell inside her. The weight of it came crashing down on her. What if they failed? What if she failed? What was she supposed to do at Dochte Abbey? Warn them that the Blight was coming? But would they listen to her as a wretched and not Ellowyn, who had the appearance of a lady of rank? In her mind, she had clung to a secret wish that after rescuing Colvin and Ellowyn, they would return to Muirwood and ask the Aldermaston to marry them and bind that marriage with an irrevocare sigil before the end came. The binding would last forever and Colvin would be hers. That is what she wanted, even more than learning to read and engrave.
The doubts began to play with her then. The sneaking doubts that poked at her, jabbed her with icy fingers.
What if Colvin changed his mind? What if Pareigis won and managed to turn over Muirwood to the Aldermaston of Augustin before she returned? What if there were no Abbeys left by the time she and Colvin met?
Her heart raced. Her blood pounded in her ears. She had not known who she truly was when he had left her. He had been in love with her for most of his life – at least in love with the idea of her. She would be sixteen. He was twenty. In her mind, she had imagined there being time to marry. If not Muirwood, then Tintern surely. The Aldermaston in Pry-Ree knew her true identity. Would he perform the binding ceremony? But what if the Queen Dowager learned of Tintern’s existence? What if there were no Abbeys left in the world?
Lia squeezed her hands together, pushing another thought into the aether. Colvin, can you hear me? Colvin, my love, can you hear my thoughts? I am Ellowyn Demont. Please hear me – I am she. I am coming, my love. I am coming for you.
She paused, holding her breath – listening to her thoughts, her insights, her connection and strength with the Medium.
She heard nothing save the crashing of the waves.
* * *
Lia abandoned the shelter at dawn. She used the Leering at the mouth of the cave to summon water to drink and bathe in. Her hair was an impossible mess, but she held it up and let the water splash on her neck and then soak her hair. Long ago, Colvin had held up her hair while she bathed. The memory made it difficult to think. She wiped the soot from her face, cleansed the ash from her hair and brought fire to summoning, enough to make the water steam. A seagull looped in the sky above her, as if curious about the human invading its cliffs.
