The Well of Wyrding (Revenant Wyrd Book 3) (3 page)

Outside the Mirror of the Moon the large, snowy white owl and a pony-sized black wolf looked at one another. The wolf seemed to shrug and then it lay down in a bed of fallen leaves as if to sleep. Though she was an experienced shape-shifter, she couldn’t stop the sounds of breaking bones as they reformed themselves from her wolf form to her human one. But still, she
was
experienced, and that made the transition happen faster. In the blink of an eye, where the black wolf had laid down there was a woman, curled up, her deep auburn hair creating a pool around her tanned face. She stood, brushed the leaves from her skin, and looked to the owl, which fluttered its wings slightly, hooted, and then gave another great ruffle of feathers.

Within the ruffle of feathers and snapping of bones as they rebuilt themselves another woman took shape, as if the fluttering of feathers and wings had shed the owl’s form from her. The black-haired woman stood. They were both clad very similarly to the animals they had portrayed. The black-haired woman wore a dress which seemed to be made of downy white feathers, while the other woman wore a robe that looked much like thick black fur.

On bare feet they made their way from the edge of the Mirror of the Moon’s lawn and back to a secluded clearing. The fallen leaves crunched heavily under their feet. They had seen Porillon leave the temple, and so they were guarded against possible attack.

“When do you think they will let us in? This is urgent,” Annbell asked.

“I’m not sure, but what they are trying to do will take time,” Sara said.

“Does she know? Does she know that he is—?”

“Shh,” Sara said, looking around them quickly as if the very trees were spying on them. “I think it would be wise not to say much yet.”

“But they have been ignoring your Message Orbs,” the other argued. “Are we to just wait?”

“Annbell, I have never been into the Well of Wyrding, I don’t know how to even get there, so I think it would be best to wait. What we have to tell Grace could change everything. It’s best that we wait until she is done with what she has to do before we drop this on her.”

“What about the telfetch? Has anything new arrived recently?” They hadn’t checked it in some time, so it was very possible that something new had come in, especially given the current state of things. With a sigh Sara reached within the folds of her white gown and produced a thin, silver-embossed box. The telfetch glowed red in color, indicating a new message inside.

Eagerly Sara opened it and looked at the stack of notes and letters inside. She sifted through them quickly. “Mostly letters from the other Realm Guardians,” she told Annbell as she pushed away from the rock and came to stand beside her sister, reading over her shoulder in the light of the glowing telfetch, which gave all the notes an ominous red cast. “They are telling me of the disturbance in wyrd, as if we had not noticed, and also of some of the other problems they are having. It seems that since this problem with wyrd has started, more and more of the indigenous creatures within their realms are hesitant to help humans, as if they don’t trust them.”

“Or they fear them,” Annbell said, tucking a lock of auburn hair behind her ear. “It’s not that much of a stretch of the imagination.”

“Yes, but it poses another threat to us,” Sara said. “We have been having problems with the chaos dwarves for some years now, and we know how quickly fear can coerce one. It would be awful if some of our creatures turned to their side.” Annbell shuddered.

“Oh look, something from Cianna,” Annbell said. Sara eagerly opened it up.

“Be on your guard and hurry home, the chaos dwarves are gathering for an attack. Research a black stone called the Wyrders' Bane; they have it with them, and claim that it can nullify the effects of wyrd. They used it on me and it made me feel as though something was very much amiss within me, as if my very life force was being drawn out. I’m on my way to the Necromancers’ Mosque, not sure when I will return, but the dreams finally became too much to bear, and I decided to start my pilgrimage. As always, love Cianna.”

“I thought Wyrder’s Bane was a myth!” Sara said.

“What are we going to do, Sara?”

“You know what you have to do.” Sara pointed to the nearest tree. “Get to that boy and train him before his wyrd starts to act out. You know what it’s like for younger druids when they first come into their own. I will go back to the keep and see if we still hold sway over the creatures within our realm.”

Annbell was already moving by the time Sara stopped speaking. She turned to her sister, the night breeze eddying the leaves and fog about them, the scent of death and rain in the air. Overhead lightning flashed wildly in the sky, which seemed to be punctuated by heavier gales of wind that showered them with fresh leaves.

“Be careful,” Sara warned her, and Annbell nodded. Annbell clasped her arms around her and stepped back into the tree. As if answering her, the tree moved with more than the wind. Its branches curled down, elongated, and wrapped around her, pinning her to the trunk. There came a green glowing from behind the branches, which spread down the trunk, through the roots, and into the earth. Sara knew that light was Annbell, and when the tree released its grip once more Annbell was nowhere in sight.

Tucking the telfetch back into her gown with promises to read the other letters later, she closed her eyes and felt herself melding with the earth.

Maeven opened his mouth to speak, but before he got the chance Jovian cut him off.

“We know, Maeven; we’re being followed,” he informed the other man as they all settled around the camp in various states of unease. “It’s getting a little old if you ask me,” Jovian’s sentiment had been repeated so often in the past months that it was beginning to lose its effectiveness.

“Well, given who you three are. . . .” Maeven didn’t need to say anything more. Being the children of one of Goddess’s chosen angels was bound to make them a target for more than one or two people.

Through their entire journey Maeven had been able to read the trails they were on, or ones they might take. Though he could only read them with ambiguity, he was still able to divine more about the way ahead or behind than the rest of them were able to do. More often than not he had informed him of this very thing: someone was behind them, following them. Disturbing as it was, they all had to admit it was very handy to know.

Maybe Jovian’s words were harsher than he intended them, or maybe Maeven was just tired, but the older boy shut his mouth and continued to watch the way behind, though through the wall of fog there was little he could see. Jovian was sure, upon entering the Sacred Forest some weeks before, that they would all be dead or out of the forest before Fog Month ended. Now that there were only a couple weeks left to Fog Month, Jovian wasn’t so sure they would make it out of the forest alive. They had been hunted since they left the Mirror of the Moon, and there was no doubt who was hunting them.

“I assume that we’ve been followed since we left the Mirror of the Moon a week ago,” Joya said.

“Two guesses who it is?” Angelica peered through the ever-thickening fog, which showed no sign of breaking, lifting, or anything else that meant it was going to leave them be. She growled, wishing that it could be as clear here as it had been at Lake Mirror, or even the Mirror of the Moon. However, thoughts of the temple stirred a strange feeling in her stomach that she didn’t like. She thought of the battle that had been waged there, the words that had been said, and her unity with Jovian’s that night. Never before had Angelica had control of her wyrd. But that night the entity she felt slide into place within her, forging her and Jovian as one entity, had controlled her wyrd better than she had ever thought possible.

“I only need one,” Joya confirmed. The twitching in Joya’s face from the touch of the verax-acis had lessened the past few days, even if the bruising and swelling had done little to abate.

“The forest is awfully still.” Joya came to stand beside her sister and peer out into the gloomy morning fog. She rubbed her arms as if cold and worried her lip, wondering precisely how close Porillon was. She wouldn’t say anything about the Well of Wyrding or the effect she knew it was having on them. But at times, when she had nothing in particular in her mind, her gaze would venture toward the horizon, toward the diseased well. Joya had touched her wyrd a lot in the past few days, and it was she more than any other who was feeling the effects of the corrupt wyrd.

“The creatures sense something more powerful.” Jovian tossed a clump of damp grass onto the fire he and Maeven had just spent the better part of the morning making. The grass smelled sweet as it burned and let off a lot of smoke from the damp. He knew the sweet grass would not only keep the bugs at bay, but also dalua, as the smoke permeated around their camp, mingling with the fog. At least that little bit of protective wyrd was still working properly within the Great Realms. Previously Joya had tried to create protective wards around them, which failed tremendously, and had instead attracted all manner of lesser dalua to them. Watch that night had been a testy event, during which none of them got much sleep.

“What do you mean?” Joya asked, looking back at him.

“In normal forests, smaller creatures grow still and silent when they sense a predator around. I assume it would be the same here. Only here, it would have to be a greater malice than what was previously here, right?” He raised an eyebrow askance.

Joya did not answer, only looked into the fire as she continued worrying the corner of her mouth.

“The boy is right.” Tegaris’s voice was like the tinkling of bells as he fluttered down beside Angelica. The light he emanated was weaker than normal due to the onset of morning. “However, the threat is some way off right now and confused as to the path.” His silver light pulsed slower and less vibrant as the moon which gave him life set and he went into suspended animation, barely finding his new home in a muslin pouch at Angelica’s waist before he froze up for the day.

“Easy for him to say,” Joya commented, going to rest on the ground beside Jovian. “I don’t think I would be able to rest now, not knowing what is after us … what she is capable of.”

“I told you before that we will not let anything happen to you,” Jovian said.

“I know what Father charged you with is important to you, Jovian, and that you take it very seriously. However, you were watching over me before and I still got abducted. I’m not trying to be mean — I’m only stating that there are things out there which you can’t foresee, and forces that you cannot fight. I fully appreciate the immensity of what we face now, more than ever before. I no longer hold you to any vows Father made you take.”

“All the same, I still won’t let anything harm you,” Jovian said.

Joya smiled. “Thank you.” She sighed heavily and plastered a pleasant look on her face despite the emotions running through her. The act made the muscles in her cheek and eye spasm erratically from the touch of the one who had held her captive. Joya whimpered and held her hands to her face so that the others would not see the loss of control over her muscles. The constant mind raping from the verax-acis and the horrible visions he planted in her mind had bad side effects.

“So,” Joya proclaimed after a few moments of warring with her spasmodic muscles to bring them in accord. “I think we should not go home as Grace suggested, and instead finish our original quest. We have the medallion, which was only part of the quest; we still need to find Amber.”

“This is true,” Maeven spoke up from where the horses were tied. They had found the beasts some ways from the Mirror of the Moon, lost and confused without their masters. Maeven looked out to where the threat came from. The hair on his head had grown out more now, and was more than the stubble it had once been. It now stood on end in odd angles held there by days on the road. Jovian noticed, not unpleasantly, that Maeven also had quite a bit of facial hair.

“So where do we think she’s headed?” Joya asked, her words distorted by a large yawn.

“Home,” Angelica and Jovian spoke at the same time.

“How can we be sure though?” Joya asked.

“Where else does she have to go?” Jovian replied.

“True, but Jovian, you know Amber — there is untold chaos hunting for her even as we speak, hunting all of us, and do you think she would lead that home?” Joya asked watching the two of them.

“I’m not sure. We have chaos hunting us as well and we’re headed home.” Angelica stated.