Wandering Lark (63 page)

Alaric frowned. “You’ve seen the White One?”

“I guess,” Talena said. “This really tall white-skinned woman with a dragon torc visited me last night and told me that my cousin Desura was, well, she died.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Alaric said.

Talena shrugged. “It seems a waste. She tried to do what you told me all heretics did to draw power...”

“How did she know about that?” Alaric asked.

Talena looked sheepish. “I told her. That night we were in the tower of the Raveners, I told her what you said... I thought it would help her to live longer... But she apparently did not understand—or maybe I did not explain it as well. But she tried to do what all these people and your own knew to do when it came to using power...and she died.”

Her face tensed with bridled grief. Alaric wanted to take her in his arms and offer comfort, but before he could put the thought to use, the matronly-mannered woman cleared her throat.

“Come,” the woman said strongly. “It is time for you to return to your tower.”

To Alaric’s surprise, Talena nodded and even allowed herself to be herded away by the woman. That left him standing in the middle of the Queen’s chambers, wondering if it was safe to turn around. Cautiously, he glanced over his shoulder. The king and his queen had moved out of sight. There were only women in armor—warriors by their stance—remaining. And some of the serving women who did not leave with Talena and the other woman.

“Well,” he muttered. “What now?”

Unsure of what else to do, he wandered out of the queen’s quarters, following the path he vaguely remembered being led on by Culann. That took him out on a bridge between the towers. He stood there, taking in the view when he saw a shadow pass overhead. Looking up, he spied Vagner. The demon circled just outside the towers.

“Can you come down here?” Alaric asked.

Vagner paused in mid air and hovered like a hummingbird, as demons were apparently able to do with little more and a few light down strokes of his massive chiropteran wings.

“The wards are only on the towers themselves, it would seem,” Vagner replied, and he fluttered down to land on the bridge at Alaric’s side. The demon sniffed. “You smell like fruit.”

Alaric laughed. “I had a royal bath,” he said. “The water was scented with something like fruit.”

“Rather starting to enjoy this life, are you?” Vagner asked.

“Not really,” Alaric said. “Though I will admit that it’s been rather peaceful since Ronan doesn’t seem to want to talk to me, but I am rather at a loss of what to do. I came here to find an Elder so we could both be set free, and so far all I have done is eaten and ridden and entertained a king who looks like a child...”

“Terrible life,” the demon said and smiled.

“I just wish I knew what to do next,” Alaric said.

“Perhaps you should ask the king where an Elder can be found,” Vagner said. “Then we could break our bond and I could go back to my home in the Demon Void and you could go back to that stodgy mage school and...”

Vagner paused and glanced over the rail. His motion was so sudden, Alaric felt impelled to do so. Far below on another walkway was the Dvergar Fion, and at his side, the tall ethereal demon now wearing female form... Sedar looked up, and even from such a height, Alaric could see that the white demon was curling lips back in anger.

“I don’t think that one much likes either of us,” Alaric said.

“The feeling is mutual,” Vagner said and whipped his tail in agitation like a cat. “I would rend it, but I suspect it is more powerful than it appears. Though I will admit, I have never seen a white demon before.”

“Talena said she had seen the White One,” Alaric said. “But before she could tell me more, she was taken back to her tower. You don’t suppose that creature is the one she saw.”

Vagner shrugged. “There is much white to this place,” the demons said. “And little food for a hungry demon.”

There was something almost hopeful in the way the demon said that. “Go on,” Alaric said and smiled. “Go feed. Just don’t eat any of our host’s kind, all right? And leave the sheep and cattle alone as well.”

“Understood,” Vagner said. “And you?”

“I think I will go find Halathor and see if I can get him to tell me anything useful.”

“Such as?”

“Where will I find an Elder?”

Vagner nodded and leapt off the bridge, soaring across the wide expanse and heading for the distant green of trees. Alaric looked down at the couple below. Fion waved. Sedar frowned.

With a sigh, Alaric pulled back and went to look for the Forester.

Vagner soared over the forest,
searching for living flesh. Nothing human, he reminded himself, or even remotely human in appearance. A nice herd of deer would be welcome, but so far, all he could see were coneys. Took too many of them to feed a grown demon because they were relatively small compared to the ones in Ard-Taebh. In fact, it occurred to the demon that everyone and everything in this world was smaller.

He saw a farm off to one side, and a herd of cattle. The sight whetted his appetite, but Alaric had said no cattle or sheep, so he resisted and searched farther out. Maybe towards the mountains. As a demon, he could get there quicker than a thought...

But as he was about to head that way, there was a streak of white that dashed ahead of him almost playfully. Vagner stopped and stared, hovering as the white thing spun about and took form. It was Sedar. This time, the white demon had grown wings. Vagner sensed both male and female essence. He had heard of some demons being dual gendered, and apparently this Sedar was one. Oddly enough, at this moment, Sedar was putting off more female than male essence. Indeed, the creatures stared at Vagner in such an unabashed manner, he got the impression it was trying to seduce him.

“You seek food,” Sedar said, using a female voice and smiling. “And maybe more?”

“Uh...yes,” Vagner said. And sniffed. Sedar smelled like a female demon in heat. The scent was distracting Vagner more than he liked.

“Come,” she said and gestured with one of her long fingers. “I will show you, Youngerkin... I will show you many things.”

Sedar turned and flicked her tail in a gesture of come hither and she sped towards the nearest copse of trees. Vagner followed, still unsure which urge was more powerful now. To feed? To fornicate? He wanted both at the moment. Sedar sped into the thick treetops and became sinuous as a snake. Vagner shifted to accommodate the narrow spaces between branches and leaves as he followed. He dropped into a broad clearing where deer were drinking at a pond.

Hunger took hold. He rushed at the deer, but to his surprise, they did not flee. They stood trustingly, waiting for him to seize several of them in his claws. He tore off heads, drained their blood, devoured their flesh quickly and looked around.

Sedar was sitting on a rock on the far side of the water, delicately licking blood from slender claws. The female smell was overpowering now. The white demon’s eyes caught Vagner, and Sedar arched the female form as an invitation.

There was no stopping now. With a howl of delight, Vagner sprang on Sedar. The white demon did not resist. Indeed, the creature wrapped itself about Vagner, and in moments, he was giving in to the natural urges of his kind.

So maybe it was just Alaric that Sedar did not like after all.

Alaric found Halathor down in
the stables attending to Talena’s flighty mare. The Forester looked up and smiled.

“She is quite a beauty,” he said. “I would have been proud to ride one like her in the days when I was a cavalry rider.”

“You were a cavalry rider?” Alaric said, leaning on the stall door and looking in. Kessa seemed to be enjoying the attention she was getting from this total stranger. He wondered what Talena would think if she knew.

“Oh, yes,” Halathor said. “At the last Darkening, I was in the King’s cavalry.”

“Which king?”

“Tane Aldus bho Fylor, the Champion of Light,” Halathor said.

“You were at the Darkening?” Alaric started trying to figure out in his head how old this Forester was. “But that would mean...how old are you?”

“I was born before the time of the Shadow Lords,” Halathor said and smiled. “This surprises you?”

“It’s taking some getting used to,” Alaric said.

Halathor nodded. “All we do must seem strange to you, coming from so far away.”

“It does,” Alaric said. He reached out and brushed Kessa’s nose. She curled her lips back as horses sometimes did when a favorite ticklish spot had been found. “Tell me Halathor, where would I find an Elder?”

The Forester ceased to brush the mare and narrowed his eyes. “Why would you seek an Elder?” he asked. “When the time is right, an Elder will find you.”

Alaric frowned. That sounded like another riddle.

“But I need an Elder now,” Alaric insisted. “I need to rid myself of the demon’s mark so I can return to my own land and rescue my friends...”

Assuming they were not already dead?
It occurred to Alaric that his time here might well have cost them their lives. Not something he wanted to consider.

Halathor shook his head again. “When the time comes, the Elder will come to you. But the time is not right.”

“How would you know that?”

A faint smile spread Halathor’s lips. “You will understand soon enough.”

“I want to understand now,” Alaric said. “No offense, but your king just keeps leading me around like a visiting dignitary and Talena is a prisoner being visited by a White One...”

“
The
White One,” Halathor corrected. “The White One has visited your friend?”

“What is the difference?”

“She who visits your friend is She Who Sits at the Center of All Things.”

Alaric frowned.

“Truly, you must be patient,” Halathor said. “The time is drawing near when you will be told all you must know.” He put a hand to Alaric’s chest, touching his breastbone. “Nearer than you think.”

Alaric felt just a little uncomfortable, so he backed away out of touch range. Where Halathor’s hand had touched him, he felt cold. He reached up and rubbed the spot and it felt knotty and unnatural. And his thoughts flitted back to his strange dream last night when he had crawled up walls and...

A slight headache suddenly burned him. Alaric closed his eyes and pressed fingers to his temple. It took but a moment to abate. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, noticing Halathor had gone back to grooming Kessa as though nothing were amiss.
But I just...
Alaric froze. What had he been thinking the moment before?

That I wanted to find an Elder.
That was it. Frowning, Alaric turned on his heels and left the stables at a furious pace.

This farce has to end,
he told himself, looking at the mark on his right hand.

He would get an answer from someone.

Somehow.

The afternoon shadows started to
fill the tower. Talena sat on the pallet, concentrating on the walls. There had to be a way to remember. There had to be a way to draw on her own blood. If she could but do as Desura had done, summoned power from inside her.

But Desura is dead because she did so.

In a way, Talena thought she should have blamed Alaric for that. He had been the key to that knowledge, and he must have failed to explain it well enough, in Talena’s head. Elsewise, Desura might still be alive.

Or would she?

In truth, Talena found it hard to blame Alaric now. Not when she had been given the one thing she thought she would never have again.

A reason to remember who she was. Who her mother was. And her father.

And why she so hated the Temple of the Triad.

They stole my family.
They stole my sense of worth.
They killed my cousin in the name of their false beliefs...