Wandering Lark (60 page)

Hobbler sighed, but he consented to letting Fenelon and Gareth lift him to the ledge. Fenelon made a stirrup of his hands and helped Gareth to get up there. Then Fenelon agilely clambered up onto the ledge himself. With Hobbler leading, they followed it up to the higher entrance. There were indeed stairs inside the opening that spiraled down and spat them out at the lower opening and the stairs in the cave wall.

From there, they climbed to the floor of the huge cavern. The path ambled among monoliths of stone and broken boulders. Here and there, the phosphorescent glow of stones cast eerie green and yellow lights. Gareth watched Fenelon lean down to examine one patch of glow. He poked it with a finger then looked at the tip. A bit of the glow had rubbed off. Fenelon rolled the glow between his fingers until it faded.

At length, they reached the edge of the Stone Forest. Fenelon stopped and looked at the trees.

“They’re made of stone,” he said.

“Stands to reason they would be,” Hobbler said. “Why else call it the
Stone Forest?”

“But I thought they might be real trees...” Fenelon said.

“They were once,” Hobbler said. “But the story my people tell is that just before the age of the Shadow Lords, there was a great battle fought in the mountains above us between the Lord of Stone and one of the Dark Kin, and that during that battle, one of the Lord of Stone turned all these trees into stone and dropped them down in here as a reminder of what happens when you make the gods angry.”

“And what happened to the Dark Kin?” Fenelon asked.

“Some say he is buried under this forest. Others say his spirit roams here now and that when the Dvergar brought the Haxons through these caves, he ate a few of them for sport...”

“Never knew spirits to have appetites,” Fenelon said.

Gareth was about to agree when he saw a blue glow moving among the yellow and green. He blinked, thinking at first that his eyes had betrayed him. No, it flitted again, and then disappeared in among the branches of one of the stone trees.

“Tell me, Hobbler...this Dark Kin...what did he look like?”

“Can’t say as I have seen one,” the Dvergar said. “Why?”

They had stepped into the first of the trees. Gareth gestured for them to stop. He pointed towards the point at which he had seen the movement.

Blue flashed again, this time twirling around and flitting back and forth before it disappeared behind yet another tree.

“What do you suppose that was?” Fenelon asked.

“I’m not sure,” Gareth said. “But I don’t think we should follow it to find out. We’ll stay on the main path.”

Fenelon frowned. “Sort of makes one think of the marsh lights one sees in Mallow...”

“Then we definitely don’t want to follow it,” Gareth said. “Those things are said to lead travelers off the dry roads and into the swamps where the travelers either get mired in or eaten by Darklings...”

“Or the demon...”

“Right. Stay on the path, Hobbler.”

The Dvergar nodded and continued into the depths of the trees.

“I want to see Talena,” Alaric said
as he dismounted from the horse in the courtyard.

King Culann smiled. “Is it custom in your land to make demands of the King?” he asked.

Alaric hesitated. “I meant no disrespect, but I feel as though I must see her.”

“She is well,” King Culann said. “She is with my wife.”

“With your wife?” Alaric stared at the king who barely came up to his own chin. Culann was capable of looking tall and majestic when he chose, but at the moment, he looked like a mischievous boy.

“My wife once had a lady in her chamber who was Talena’s mother,” the king said in a matter of fact way. “I suspect my queen is curious as to what happened to that lady after she went away to wed Talena’s father.”

Alaric frowned. “So that explains it.”

“Explains what?” King Culann asked.

“Well, when I was trying to find my way here, Talena insisted on coming along. I thought it strange that she would want to enter the land of her people’s sworn enemy...”

“They are our kin,” King Culann said. “But they have forgotten themselves.”

“Forgotten themselves?” Alaric said, suddenly intrigued. “In what way?”

“To understand that, you must understand what has transpired in the passing of time,” King Culann said. “Come, we will refresh ourselves in my chambers and I will explain...”

Culann started for the stairs. Alaric hesitated then followed.

“The conflict is as old as time,” Culann said as he entered the palace, tossing off his riding gloves. “In the age of the Shadow Lords, my ancestors gathered an army at the bidding of the White One. We had a Champion of Light and the Hammer Maid as well. And with the help of the White One’s Avatar, we slew the Champion of Shadows and his consorts.”

“The Champion of Shadows?” Alaric frowned. “Who was that?”

“A great warrior king from the realms of the Dokkalfar,” Culann explained. “He had great power, this Champion of Shadows, and it was said that the Dark Mother counted him her favorite, for he swore to bring darkness to the world and set her free.”

They had reached a long corridor where servants and guards stood in waiting. All eyes stayed forward as Alaric followed Culann down that path.

“Of course, we could not allow that. But for a time, the Champion of Shadows and the Shadow Lords looked as though they would win...indeed, they spread their darkness far and wide, and shadows covered much of the known lands. But light triumphed over darkness, just as day always triumphs over night...”

And what happens when night falls again?
Alaric thought to himself.

Culann looked at him and smiled.

“Then a new Champion of Light will be born, and the Balance will be preserved again,” he said. “For that is what it all comes down to, Magister Alaric. There can be no darkness without light, no day without night. The Balance is all that matters. But the Dark Mother would see it sundered, and spends even her sleeping time trying to best our White One.”

“And what has all this to do with Talena’s people
forgetting
themselves, as you say?” Alaric asked.

“You are not a patient one,” Culann said. “Why she would choose you...”

Alaric frowned, trying to figure out what that meant.
Choose me?
For what?

“When the final battle between the Champion of Light and the Champion of Shadows was fought, the Champion of Light won and the Balance was restored. And there is where it must remain. To push the Balance so that light rules all would be no better than being under the constant rule of shadow.”

Culann held out his hands as he spoke, and Alaric felt a tingle of magic as the king invoked a globe of light in one hand and a globe of shadow in the other.

“For the world to be whole,” Culann said, “the Balance between shadow and light must remain even. And this means that all the White One can do is hold back the shadow and put it back in its place.”

He brought the two globes together and let them float unaided. A gesture of his hand started them seesawing side by side at equal distances from one another. And Alaric was suddenly reminded of the globes dangling from the scales that he saw in the hands of the statue of the beautiful woman in Shadow Vale.

“When the Dark Mother is sundered, when her physical body is demolished, she cannot threaten the balance, but must remain in her Shadow Realm,” Culann said. “But the destruction she wrought on the world before her physical demise was terrible. Whole villages were wiped out. Tens of thousands died. The land was in such turmoil, both here and in Garrowye. But where we began to rebuild on our own, our kin in Garrowye became bitter. They thought that the White One should rebuild for them. But that is not Her way. She maintains the Balance, but she does nothing to upset it. And so the folk of Garrowye hardened their hearts to Her. They put aside their belief in Her and looked for comfort in the bond of family, for it was through the bond of family that they found a way to restore their world. Hard labor was at the heart of it.

“Alas, because of this, they turned their backs on the magic that was their heritage. They refused to allow magic to survive in their world. Sadly, they did not realized that their refusal to use what magic they have had turned them mortal. And it kills their land as well. For the magic that is in everything has fallen asleep in the land of Garrowye.”

Alaric took a deep breath. “They are all mageborn as you are here?” he said.

King Culann nodded. “But they have wasted the power, and by doing so, they have shortened their own lives. Sad, is it not. For when the next Darkening comes, their land and people will perish because they refuse to remember what they are.”

Alaric stopped. “Wait, the next Darkening? Did you say,
the next Darkening?”

Culann laughed. “Of course. There is a Balance in all things, Magister, and even Darkness will play its part. You have seen to it that the Dark Mother’s body cannot be brought back to life before its time, but there is still a matter of demons, is there not?”

“Demons?” Alaric frowned and looked back. It occurred to him that Vagner had not followed him here.

“He is Youngerkin and cannot pass the wards,” Culann said. “And I have told you more than I have authority to share. What else you learn must come from the White One Herself...”

Alaric frowned. He was getting tired of being told that. Still. “Can you at least tell me why it is that if the magic has been forgotten in Garrowye, you and your people have not invaded their land?”

“Invade Garrowye? Why should I wish to do such a thing?”

“For the sake of magic,” Alaric said. “And for the sake of those who possess it and are persecuted for it.”

Culann cocked an eyebrow. “Because to do so would sunder the Balance of All Things,” he said. “Better to leave the world as it is than to destroy the forces of nature and the Balance through meddling. We cannot make the magic come back. It must return on its own.”

Alaric glanced aside. What was it he remembered Fenelon saying about the Great Cataclysm? How the Old Ones had meddled with nature, and the world had suffered for it?

“So how can the magic return on its own if you cannot assist it?” Alaric asked. “Where I come from, we are taught about the Great Cataclysm caused by the Old Ones. Having seen what I have seen in the Shadow Vale, I know now that part of their meddling turned much of the northern world into ice.”

“And upset the Balance of All Things,” Culann said. “But from this, I see that you do not know the whole story. When your Old Ones turned the Shadow Vale into ice, they were trying to keep the Dark Ones from finding the last remaining piece of the Dark Mother. Their actions were but a part of a great war between dark and light. The upheavals they caused threatened the Balance of the world again. So the winter had to come to all the northern lands to keep the Circle of Time from being broken so soon.”

“I’m afraid all this is sounding rather confusing to me,” Alaric said. “Yet it does explain some things that have never been understood in my world before.” He looked thoughtful. “Does this mean that the fate of the Old Ones...”

“Was necessary to keep the Balance intact,” Culann said. “And they knew it, so they made the sacrifice willingly. However, they were clever enough to realize that the magic had to live on.”

“And so they made the First Born,” Alaric said.

“And passed the legacy on to a select few of the mortalborn to create those you call mageborn. But they gave up their physical selves to keep the power of magic in your land. And you should not believe for a moment that all your Old Ones are gone. Some still live. You just don’t always have the eyes to see them. Remember, your Old Ones, the Hidden Folk, the Stone Folk, the Jotun, the Ettin, the Trowkin...even the Elderkin and the Yougerkin, the Dark Ones, the Shadow Lords and the Dokkalfar. They were all kin of a sort who existed long before the birth of mortal man. And not all of them have an appearance that would be familiar to the humans.”

Alaric glanced off at the visible line of the horizon that he could see through the tall windows of the king’s chambers. All his life, he had heard stories of giants who became mountains, Old Ones who became stone circles or trees...and of Keltoran bogie folk and demons in Mallow. Now to know that all those stories might well be true...