Dark One Rising (20 page)

Jaron took a deep calming breath, his eyes resuming their normal color. He would have to wait; it was not time yet. He would have to endure taking orders from this man until his real master told him it was time. For now, he would do what was asked. Fallon was right on one thing; they did need the woman to complete the link. She would indeed need to bare a son, and then Fallon, like the woman, would no longer be needed. Jaron would wait, just as his master expected.

“Yes, My Lord. I will find her.” He bowed to Fallon and swept out of the room, a frigid breeze blowing passed Fallon as he left in a swirl of cape.

Fallon shivered in the cold, a small twinge of death shrouding him, almost as a warning. He should not test Jaron so, he knew, but he wanted Melenthia and his lust and power hungry soul was in charge most of the time. He must try harder to control his anger and his demands on the creature. Beings such as Jaron were unpredictable and if pushed too far could turn on him. He swallowed back the fear and remembered that it was him that brought Jaron up from the depths in the first place. He was the master, Jaron merely a puppet. His fear went away as he rubbed his chin in contemplation of what was to come.

Getting rid of King Randor would be easy. He was old and his resolve was weak. Kevaan, on the other hand, would prove more difficult. So far, he had not been able to push him, and he was afraid it might prove difficult for Jaron as well. A wraith works on fear and doubt, and Kevaan seemed to have neither. But, he also had a weakness. Melenthia. He loved his sister like no one else, cared about her more than anything. He would do anything for her. That might prove useful later. For now he would concentrate on keeping Randor under his thumb.

He also thought about Dainard on the other side of the kingdom. He knew that he wasn’t the greatest king, but he was empathetic to his people, and he was young and strong. His army was larger than Randor’s, and that may prove more of a challenge if Dainard chose to stand against him. He seethed. He would stand against him, that he knew. Taking over his realm would be harder than taking over Randors. It was bigger, but it was also guarded better. Dainard had bigger coffers than Randor and had more border patrol and guardsmen than Randor. He had eyes everywhere. He kicked a chair across the room, his fists balled up, scowl marking his dark face.

“I will have this kingdom for myself, and I will have Melenthia for my own!”

A servant heard the commotion and entered the room. “Is there something I can do for you, My Lord?”

Fallon swung around and glared at the servant. The servant trembled and wrung his hands.

“There’s nothing I require except my fiancé!” Fallon seethed.

“Yes, Your Grace. There’s still no word of Her Highness. They are still searching as we speak.”

“Yes. I have sent out my advisor again to help aid them. We’ll find her.”

The servant swallowed. “Yes, My Lord.” He backed out of the room in a bow, leaving Fallon dark.

Fallon went to the window and looked at the stars, the moon lightly lighting the landscape below. Everything the light touched would soon belong to him, and the thought brought satisfaction. He turned from the window now and decided he’d better practice his incantation as Jaron suggested. The moment of truth was nearing.

***

Sol sat cross legged on the floor, his old but still strong bare chest had markings painted on it and on his arms and legs as well. He had his eyes closed, listening to the traditional chanting of the Elvin Elders, feeling the calm wash over him and the insight in his mind became stronger. He would look into the Mirror of Souls with the highest members of the Elvin clan. They would ask the Mirror to show them what they needed to know, ask it to tell them what they needed to do. Sol remembered back to the last time he sat here, cross legged on the floor, listening to the melodic sounds of the elves in their ritual chant. He had learned then that the Chosen One, the baby of the Tanith Prophecy had been born, and they would keep watch over that child until the time came for that child to fight the creatures of darkness and rid the world of them. What they didn’t tell him then was who the child was. He remembered having doubts later when the Mirror of Souls told them that the child was a girl, but the Mirror of Souls did not lie, and Tomaz’s return, with news that she had indeed been born, rid him of those doubts. He was surprised to learn it was the princess but then chided himself for being so. The Elvin sword sang only to the one that was meant to have it, and there was no doubt it had sung for her. Over the years her oddity confused him, and he started to doubt again. Now he knew that his doubts were unfounded. She was indeed the one.

But there were other things that they didn’t know, things that he hoped the Mirror would tell them today. Was Fallon indeed the pawn for the Dark One to use to bring them out of the depths, to bring darkness to the land? Did he know that Melenthia was the one who would destroy him?

The chanting stopped, and he opened his eyes, looking toward the oldest member of the Elders. Pyramus poured a bowl full of water, with essence of rose and the powder from the crushed bones of the prairie mull rat, into the pool in the center of the room. The pool was so still it looked like a mirror, reflecting the image of everyone around it back at them. For a few moments after he poured the contents of the bowl, the water in the pool rippled, making rings a hundred wide. Then the ripples stopped, and the pool was still again, turning a darker color, grayish silver, and the reflection of the men no longer could be seen. Instead, there were images there of things that had already transpired, and images of things that were still to come.

Pyramus gazed into the reflective pool, and watched the images that came and went. The other elders, and Sol, sat still and quiet, watching the flashes of images come and go. They could not determine what they were looking at, because although they were privileged and could be present, the Mirror of Souls only revealed its secrets to the most holy, the most privileged one, and Pyramus was that one. He stared into the pool with the rest of them, never looking away, never even blinking. Sol sat still, knowing that Pyramus was memorizing everything he had to know, everything the Mirror told him so that he could enlist his most trusted to carry out the role they had. It seemed like a long time before the flashes stopped and the pool once again became clear. Pyramus looked around the hut, taking in all the faces that were present, all Elvin Elders, and Sol.

Sol was not an elf, nor did he have any Elvin blood within him at all, but being the only remaining sorcerer in the world, he was trusted as much as Pyramus’s own tribal members. Sol had been around for more years than anyone knew, and Theron Eadoin, the king of the elves, trusted him. He had worked with the elves in many conflicts over many years of strife and war. He had seen it all, and he knew Aelethia better than any living being, besides the elves themselves. He had been initiated into the Elder tribe more years ago than Sol wanted to recall, and he was the only outsider to ever have been invited to do so.

Pyramus looked around and then finally spoke. “As everyone here knows, twenty-one years ago a child was born into this world, a special child, the child of the Tanith Prophecy, the Chosen One. This child has been watched over, and without knowledgeable interference, has been taught many things that will prove helpful in the coming months. We have secretly watched over her, and now we feel it is time that our outside influence ends and our diligence in her full training begins. The Mirror of Souls has also revealed to me that Fallon is indeed the one who is bringing forth dark creatures from the depths. He has learned that Melenthia is the one who will destroy him. He has learned that bearing him a son is the final act to seal the pact he has with the Dark One. He will not rest until she has been overtaken, and he will not stop until she bears his child. We have been enlisted by the souls of our ancestors to stop him. We have to keep him from obtaining his goal. The Dark One is rising. The time has come. Her training time has arrived.” He looked over at Sol. “What news do you have in this matter?”

“I know that Melenthia has slipped out of Lachlan Castle and is being tracked by Bounty Hunter and King’s Counselor, Alekzand’r Morgan. He will find her and bring her to Drydon Keep for protection. King Dainard will look after her, but he doesn’t know why Fallon wants her. He will do everything in his power to find out though, that is in his nature.”

“Is she safe there?”

“For now. Fallon will eventually figure it out, his wraith will make sure of that.” He paused. “If I might venture an opinion.”

“Of course, you have the trust of this council.”

“I believe that this wraith is the real master of this game Fallon is playing. I believe he will be the one to carry out the Dark One’s plans. Fallon is only the pawn. The Dark One needs a human body to produce the child of his heir. Melenthia would be the host for his heir and once that happens, Fallon will no longer be useful.”

Pyramus stared at Sol for a moment, frowning.

“Perhaps you are right. It is he who will be telling Fallon how to bring forth his minions from the dark.” He looked to Tomaz. “You will go with Sol to Drydon Keep. It is time that all the players in this plan are given their roles and time for Melenthia to become what she was born to be. You must train her.”

“She will resist, Pyramus. She is fiery and stubborn. She will not want to believe what we tell her. It will take some convincing.”

“That is why I am sending you both, to make her believe and train her. She must be willing to fight for her world and do so out of love for it, or she will not be able to overcome the evil that will try to possess her. She must be ready in time, or she will fail.”

Tomaz and Sol bowed to their leader and then bowed to each other. They would go to Drydon Keep. The time for their role had come.

“There’s one other thing.”

They looked at Pyramus again.

“The Mirror of Souls has told me that she has not yet fallen in love.”

“That’s correct. She has refused every man that her father has suggested. She has refused every noble that has even shown the slightest interest. That is why Fallon was able to coerce her father into giving her hand over to him.”

“The mirror tells me that unless she finds the one that is true, she cannot expect to win over the darkness. She must not be alone in this fight. The one true love will make her stronger and make the bond Fallon has on her weak. He will present himself in time, and we can only hope it will not be too late.”

They both nodded to him again and left the hut.

CHAPTER 12

W
hen light came, Alekzand’r had already made it all the way through town and had found out nothing. He had already hit all the businesses in town and questioned many people whom he found around town, in the marketplace, and in the streets. Either everyone had actually seen no one, or they were all being very tight lipped about it. He feared if someone did know something, when Fallon came through, they would not be able to be so silent about what they knew. If anyone knew anything, Fallon would find a way to make them tell him. Alekzand’r had to find someone who would risk trusting him, or he feared Melenthia wouldn’t be able to slip away for long. He growled. He was frustrated at himself for not being able to find her as quickly as he thought. He was a Bounty Hunter trained and skilled at tracking, and he was having trouble finding her, a woman who had never been out beyond her castle walls overnight in her life. If the people in town were really hiding her, they were doing a good job. If she was out there somewhere and he had missed her, he would have to pat Kevaan on the back for the thoroughness of his instruction. Of course, if she were too good, he would fail, then where would they be?

He made his way down the dirty city streets, the thick wet clay sticking to his boots and making a sucking sound every time he lifted his foot. He followed the waterway, past the church and the public market, and turned the corner to the seedier part of town. It was a few hours after sunrise now, and the morning gloom and dark skies made him sulk. The clouds were building up over the mountains in the distance, and he feared rain would arrive shortly after mid-afternoon tomorrow, which would make tracking her down more difficult. He hated being in the wilderness in the rain, sleeping on soggy ground and fighting off the damp chill that went all the way to his bones. Not to mention not being able to keep warm by a fire that couldn’t be lit with damp wood. He grumbled to himself. Maybe he was getting old, soft in his advancing years. Maybe he was starting to prefer a cozy goose down bed over a life of freedom in the wild. He sighed. If his mission wasn’t so important, he would pack it all up, get on his horse and go back to Drydon Keep to curl up until spring. This side of the kingdom was already being taken over by an ever present darkness and cold that chilled his soul as much as his body. He dreaded the thought of it reaching Azlyn, which right now, was starting to show the signs of spring. Warm air and fresh smells.

He pulled his cloak tighter around himself and his hood closer to his skull and huddled up inside it as much as he could. He was weary, of that there was no doubt, and although he had hardly slept in the last twenty-four hours, he knew it was just the dreariness of the weather and the growing fear that was taking over the country that tired him. He knew he had to get rest soon; he wouldn’t be able to go on without some kind of rejuvenation, but he didn’t want to fall more behind. He assumed that Fallon and his cortege arrived at the castle last night and probably already discovered Melenthia’s disappearance. He had to find her before they did.