Revenge (36 page)

Gidyon nodded, not trusting his voice. He looked over at Figgis and was surprised to see that his father’s big, golden-haired companion was carrying the smaller man in his arms.

Tor cleared his throat. ‘But first, there are introductions necessary. Gidyon, this is Saxon Fox. He is a Kloek and Sixth of the Paladin. He is bonded to your mother.’

Tor watched the boy’s eyes spark at the mention of his mother before they darted to the Kloek, who strode over, still carrying the Rock Dweller.

Saxon bowed with a reverence Tor had not seen in the Kloek previously. ‘Gidyon, I am honoured to meet you again.’

Gidyon felt lightheaded at the Kloek’s graciousness. He responded in kind as best he could, and then hurried to make his own introductions.

‘Er, Saxon…Father…’ It felt both strange and lovely to address his father out loud. ‘This is my Paladin. He is Figgis, the Rock Dweller and courageous Ninth.’

Figgis smiled at Gidyon’s kind words through his pain. He feared he would not be able to hang onto consciousness much longer but he knew he was safe in the Heartwood and in the arms of his old friend, Saxon.

‘Saxon,’ he said, struggling to speak, ‘it is about time you took some of the weight off my feet.’

The jest, relating to their battle with Orlac, was not lost on Saxon and he enjoyed it loudly.

‘Come, my friend, let us get you rested and well again.’

Cloot, overjoyed at being reunited with the Ninth, flew down to Tor’s shoulder.

Tor took the opportunity to speak before the Heartwood reclaimed its precious charge back.
‘Figgis, I am privileged to meet again with you. I owe you my deepest thanks for your help in Cipres.’

Figgis chuckled, despite the pain. ‘It was clear you were otherwise engaged,’ he said and liked it that Tor broke into a wide, bright smile.

‘Indeed I was,’ he said. ‘Locklyn Gylbyt is safely returned to his family. We are in your debt.’ He bowed then added, ‘Before you enjoy the ministrations of the Heartwood, let me reunite you with another old friend.’ Tor touched his falcon at his shoulder. ‘This is Cloot of the Rork’yel. He is a shapechanger.’

‘Cloot…?’ Figgis whispered with awe, then winced at a sharp wave of pain.

A chiming sound, which had been building during their conversation, now reached an insistent pitch.

‘Come,’ Saxon said, ‘let us allow this miraculous place to work its magics.’

Saxon carried Figgis to where the Flames of the Firmament danced and weaved their shimmering, chiming colours. He placed the little man on the mossy ground beneath one of the huge oaks. Immediately vines appeared, tendrils snaking out from the undergrowth. Creaking with the effort, branches leaned down to cradle one of their own. To Gidyon’s astonishment, he witnessed the trees of the Heartwood effortlessly lift Figgis into their tallest branches, to where they could no longer see him.

‘Where has he gone?’ he asked, shock plainly evident in his voice.

‘To be healed,’ Saxon said reverently.

Tor put his arm around his son’s shoulder. ‘The Heartwood protects its own. He is safe.’

Gidyon looked with wonder at his father and nodded. It was all too much to take in.

‘Hungry?’ Tor said, grinning.

‘Ravenous,’ Gidyon replied.

Well now, there’s a chip off the old block,
Cloot murmured to himself.

I heard that, bird,
Tor answered and enjoyed hearing Cloot laugh again inside his head.

It was tricky for Gidyon to eat and converse at the same time but he managed to consume a vast amount of food whilst the words continued to tumble out. Tor and Saxon became silent as they listened with increasing dismay to Gidyon’s tale of his journey since his arrival in Tallinor.

Tor stood and began to pace. When Gidyon had finished, his father continued pacing.

‘All of them…dead?’

Gidyon nodded. ‘I…I had no control. I didn’t even know what I was doing. They were about to roast Figgis and murder Yseul. It just burst out of me.’ He looked shattered as he admitted his handiwork.

Saxon grunted. ‘We never used to visit Duntaryn when I was with the circus. It has always possessed a dark reputation. Good riddance to them.’

Tor grimaced. This was not the right message for Gidyon to hear.

‘Killing is so final. It should never be the solution. Never!’

Gidyon threw up his hands. He had been feeling terrible about his deed for the past two days, and now he felt sick. He had barely had time to look at his father properly and already he had let him down. ‘I didn’t know I possessed the power to do this.’ He ran his hand through his straight hair.

Tor felt dreadful for his son. He wanted to comfort him, tell him it was all right, but he could not find the right words. The boy had murdered a dozen or more people. His powers were obviously strong but he needed to learn to control them, rather than the other way around. He watched Gidyon run his hand through his hair again and recalled how Eryn had teased him about the same nervous habit.

Tor’s voice softened. ‘And this Yseul? What of her?’

Gidyon spoke shyly. ‘She has gone back to her village. She will be safe now. I…I hope to see her again.’

Tor experienced a rush of emotion and affection such as he had never felt before. He did not want this precious child to leave the Heartwood ever again. This was a place of sanctuary; he was safe here. And his powers were dormant because there was no need to use them.

Outside the Heartwood’s protection, Orlac loomed. They were still no closer to forming the Trinity and it frightened Tor that Lys said their time
was running out. Themesius would fall soon. Orlac would be free. Tor’s private conversations with Cloot had revealed no further illumination. Between them, they had considered that the Trinity might be the three mysterious Stones of Ordolt. Or, as Cloot had suggested, it may well be the powerful combined presence of Father, Son and Daughter.

When Tor had mentioned this to Saxon, the Kloek had agreed but then had questioned Alyssa’s role in the Trinity. Why would she have Paladin to protect her if she was not important? Tor was turning these thoughts over in his mind when Arabella called to them in alarm.

‘Quick, Tor! Kythay approaches. He brings Lauryn. She is in trouble!’

Gidyon was first on his feet, but Tor held him back as the donkey plodded slowly into view. A young woman was sprawled heavily across its back, her head lolling against the creature’s neck.

‘Lauryn!’ Gidyon yelled.

The three of them rushed towards Kythay, who stopped and allowed Tor to gently lift the girl into his arms. He was shocked to see there were flecks of blood on her stained clothes and she was covered with dried mud; he could not see her face beneath the crust of dirt and the lank hair which stuck to it.

He tried to pull the hair away from her face but it held. He looked around alarmed, not sure of what to do, only that she needed help.

Solyana commanded him:
Give her to the trees now.

Tor laid the girl on the forest floor and the trees wasted no time in picking her up and then swooping her gently from branch to branch, tree to tree.

Tor soon guessed where they were taking her and began to run, to follow them to the pool. Solyana overtook him and ran ahead; Gidyon kept pace with him whilst the others followed.

Cloot and Solyana were already at the pool when the others arrived, breathing hard.

Gidyon asked aloud what most were wondering. ‘Is she dead?’ His voice broke as he said it.

Tor watched the trees lowering his daughter into the water. The Flames of the Firmament burst into a blaze of chimes and Darmud Coril shimmered into view. Tor felt more confident now that the god was present.

It was Darmud Coril who answered Gidyon. ‘No, son of the Heartwood, our daughter breathes still.’

Solyana spoke gently to Tor.
Leave her with us. The Heartwood’s pool will rejuvenate her. Please, Tor, trust me.

Tor nodded. ‘Saxon, Gidyon…we must wait.’

Reluctantly, the three men returned to the clearing.

They sat close together and murmured anxiously about Lauryn’s state. Saxon could see that both father and brother were distraught and so tried making conversation.

‘Gidyon, it sounds as though you and Lauryn hardly know one another. Did you not grow up together?’

Gidyon considered the question and Saxon noted how like his father he was, to pause like that.

He answered the Kloek. ‘Well, I suppose I must have known her all my life, but I can’t really remember. It’s so maddening. Sorrel told us that our memories of our former lives would begin to cloud; the truth is, mine has disappeared altogether. Perhaps Lauryn may recall better than I. But I feel in my heart that we were not together until recently. How did you guess?’

Tor nodded. ‘I was thinking the same, Gidyon. Perhaps Sorrel deliberately kept you apart for safety. I have no idea myself, but I am sure she will tell us when she arrives.’

Gidyon looked at his father and Saxon, more worry spreading across his face. ‘Of course…you, er…you don’t know.’

‘Don’t know what?’ Saxon asked.

Gidyon took a big breath. ‘Part of the reason why Lauryn is in such a bad way is because she and Sorrel were set upon by thieves…’

This was not easy. He summarised Lauryn’s story as best as he could.

‘They saw an overturned cart in the road and a young lad beside a man who seemed to have been thrown from it and hurt badly. But when they tried to help, the man sat up and others from his gang cornered them. Sorrel screamed for Lauryn to try and escape. The last Lauryn saw of Sorrel was when one of the men punched her and she fell to the ground. Then the gang bundled Lauryn off into the woods.
The leader joined them within a few minutes and when she asked after Sorrel, he said she was dead. Lauryn apparently flew into a rage and, when they tried to tie her to a tree, she loosed her powers at them.’

Tor held his head. ‘Not more killing?’

Gidyon shrugged apologetically. ‘I’m sorry, Father. She knows she threw one against a tree and he did look as if he might be dead. She managed to run and the others gave chase. The boy gained on her and she believes she just wounded him. She was upset when she told me all of this, of course. I think she was probably in shock. Like me, she had no idea she had such power within her.

‘Her story goes that some King’s man, an Under Prime or something…’

Tor looked at Saxon, who shrugged and said, ‘Herek is Prime. I had no idea there was an Under Prime.’

‘Go on,’ Tor said to his son.

Gidyon shook his head. ‘Well, whoever this man was, he was a soldier who introduced himself as the Under Prime. He happened along, gave chase to the men following her and got rid of them.’

‘And?’ Saxon prompted.

‘Well, that’s it. She went on towards Axon using the hills route, which is probably why she’s half dead. She said that the Under Prime returned to his men, although he was unhappy about leaving her alone.’

‘No, we mean, what of Sorrel?’ Tor asked gently.

‘Oh, I see,’ Gidyon said. ‘Well, this soldier told her that he saw Sorrel’s body at the roadside and she was dead.’

Tor stood and began his pacing again. He was clearly upset.

‘No, no. This is not right,’ he said. ‘This should not have happened. I had so much to ask her.’

‘It is all I know,’ Gidyon said, looking from his father to Saxon.

Cloot’s arrival broke the tension.
Tor, meet your beautiful daughter,
he said across the link.

Saxon and Gidyon were surprised when Tor swung around. ‘She comes,’ he said.

At first Gidyon thought Tor meant Sorrel, but when he turned he found himself looking at a lovely young woman, who resembled Lauryn. This woman’s hair was wet but neatly combed and the water clinging to it made it appear darker than it was. She looked gaunt; her arms were thin and her shoulders angular beneath the soft green shift she wore. Could this be the Lauryn he knew? Her eyes were as he remembered them, he thought, digging back into the blur. Then she broke into a smile; it was tentative but there was no mistaking her now. That unforgettable smile lit her pretty, now angular face into a rare beauty. She looked gorgeous standing there.

‘Lauryn!’ he yelled for the second time that day and left his father trailing as he ran towards her. He picked her up and hugged her, twirling her around and thinking how fragile she seemed.

She used the link.
I thought I had died and found Paradise when I woke up to all those chiming flames. You could have waited for me!

Hush, we’re together now,
he said gently into her head.

He placed her back on the ground and she smoothed down the simple garment which Arabella had given her. She was ready to meet her father. She looked over at the man who was standing very still, not far behind Gidyon. He wore a look of shock; or was it anguish…or both? He did not say anything; he simply stared.

There was no doubting he was Gidyon’s father; they were almost identical, though his features were more chiselled. Why had she expected someone much older? There was not a grey hair on his full dark head. So tall, so strong, so good-looking. Her heart flipped for a moment—yes, Yargo was right: he was as beautiful as you would expect a god to be. Was this truly her father?

The Heartwood was still.

Lauryn took a slow, silent breath. She must be brave. ‘Greetings,’ was all she trusted herself to say, however.

The man she knew was Torkyn Gynt stared back with a wounded look in his eyes.

The golden-haired man standing behind her father touched his arm and whispered something to him.

‘This must come as a shock, Tor, I know. This is exactly how Alyssa looked when I first met her. Be brave, now. This girl needs your strength.’

Tor stared at the young woman in front of him; he knew she was not Alyssa—could not possibly be, of course—but his mind was playing tricks on him. She looked so much like Alyssa and he did not know whether to weep over her loss or at the gain of his daughter. He felt Saxon gently prodding him towards the girl.

Lauryn begged her legs to hold her steady as she let go of Gidyon’s hand and stepped forward to meet her father. Now that they were this close, she noticed how impossibly blue his eyes were, even though they were filled with tears.