Destiny of the Light: Shadow Through Time 1 (44 page)

T
alis roused himself from slumber and opened heavy eyelids, his first thought for Khatrene, who to his profound relief lay slumbering in his arms. At her side lay her brother whose chest rose and fell with the gentle breaths of sleep.

Beyond the three of them lay whiteness, as though mist blanketed everything, yet the ground beneath them was also of thick mist and Talis knew then that they must truly be in Atheyre. Peace and rest seemed tangible in the air and he felt no hunger, no tiredness or thirst.

Talis looked again to his beloved and stroked her cheek. Found it wet. Indeed, the dampness of a great many tears had soaked the fabric of her sleeve where her cheek rested. Though some would be in happiness that her brother now lived, there would also be profound grief at the loss of her child. She was so newly made a mother and now so cruelly robbed of the precious burden she had briefly held.

The destiny that had smiled on their love and kept them together had taken Khatrene from her child. Forever. Those accepted into Atheyre did not leave and therefore the fate of the child, Glimmer, rested solely with those left behind. Though Pagan, Lae and even Kert would try to keep the babe alive, Talis felt only fear when he thought of Glimmer’s future. And indeed, that of the Four Worlds.

M
ooraz woke to a silent and empty encampment which he quickly left, searching for his Lady Lae. The light of Atheyre, rising to the clouds, led him to the Royal Shrine which he entered cautiously, creeping down the dark stairwell. The sounds of battle which he had heard at a distance were now silent.

Mooraz would no longer serve the man who had killed their King. For he knew without a doubt that this life had not been taken to ensure The Balance, but to facilitate The Dark’s possession of his child. A king murdered for selfish gain. When he found his wayward charge he must convince her of his change of heart or she would fear he was her father’s agent come to claim her. First, however, he must find her, and as he stepped onto the floor of the crypt, scattered with bodies of Raiders and Sh’hale guardsmen, he feared he had come too late.

Morning light illuminated the crypt dimly and to avoid that, Mooraz slipped quietly into the darkness beside him and edged along the wall, gazing out through the cracks between the tall stone tombs in search of his Lady. She was not among the bodies he saw, and he hoped then that if she was here, she had hidden. Quickly he padded to the back of the crypt, then eased his head around to look along the back wall.

Mooraz eased back and swallowed, resting his head against the cool stones as he tried to decide what to do.

The body of his Lady, dead or alive, lay fallen at the side of Kert Sh’hale who sat against the wall, gazing blindly into the crypt.

For long moments Mooraz wondered what he should do. He was not afraid to battle Sh’hale for the life of his Lady, yet what if Sh’hale put a knife to her throat? No. Stealth would be a better approach. He would wait until Sh’hale made a move to leave with her, then Mooraz would come behind him and —

‘Sh’hale!’ a voice across the crypt called and Mooraz heard the sound of scrabbling as Kert rose and took up his sword. ‘If you live, come out and die,’ the voice challenged.

Mooraz poised himself to take this opportunity to rescue his Lady. Again, he eased his head around the corner and saw Sh’hale step out onto the crypt floor.

‘Who is that?’ Kert called. ‘Roeg? I thought I killed you. Why do you fight me? I know you did not kill your King. It was The Dark.’

‘Liar!’

Mooraz cared nothing about the quarrel apart from the fact that it might cover his flight with Lae. He eased along the back wall towards her.

‘You wish to destroy all who help the Throne,’ the voice shouted back at Kert. ‘I slit your father’s throat. I will kill you.’ This last was said on a shout which heralded the sounds of battle Mooraz knew would cloak his retreat from the crypt.

He reached Lae and crouched beside her, touching a finger to her throat to feel the pumping of her blood and find relief that she lived. Yet just when he was about to lift her she stirred and began to open her eyes, all of which frightened Mooraz, for he knew they must keep silent if he was to save her from Sh’hale.

Quickly he clamped a hand over her mouth and shook his head when her wide eyes met his, full of fear as he had dreaded. Yet with no soundless way to convince her of his intentions, Mooraz had no course but use the force of his body against her, trusting that when he had her in a safer place she would forgive him.

Holding her tight against himself and with a hand still firmly over her mouth, he began to back quietly along the wall. The morning sun grew in strength and the crypt was lighter by the moment. The darkness of the wall Mooraz edged along was now punctured by faint light from between the stone tombs. If Sh’hale saw movement in this light he would be alerted, yet Mooraz could think of no other way to reach the crypt stairs and beyond to where he might find safety for his Lady.

Slowly then he edged along the wall, listening to the direction of the fight, darting through the beams of light when it sounded fiercest and then moving on. Mooraz was two tombs from the end of the row and then only a short distance to the stairs when he heard a gurgling cry.

‘Fool,’ Sh’hale cried, the exertion of their battle wearying his voice. ‘You find an ally and call him traitor. You deserve to die.’

The sound of the final blow urged Mooraz on and he darted forward to the end of the row, hoping to find ten steps to freedom and finding instead Sh’hale by the stairs.

‘Do you think to steal my prize?’ he said and stepped forward.

Mooraz took his hand from Lae’s mouth and reached for his sword. ‘You will not take her from me,’ he said.

‘I will not return to my father,’ Lae said, struggling again. ‘Release me, Mooraz. I order it.’

‘I will not take you to your father.’ Mooraz fought to hold her with one arm. ‘Name any sanctuary and I will deliver you to it. I serve The Dark no more.’

‘How noble,’ Kert said as Lae’s struggles slowed. ‘Yet that will not save you.’ He stepped towards them then and Mooraz knew he would have to release his Lady to fight, yet he feared she would run from him.

‘Sh’hale saved me from the Raider’s blow,’ she said. ‘I saw it before I succumbed. He saved my life.’

Sh’hale opened a palm, smiled at Mooraz. ‘And what have you done this day?’ he asked, ‘save killing the Guardian Laroque and standing by while my King was
slain?
’ This last word was said on a lunge as his sword darted forward and Mooraz had no choice but to push Lae to safety while he countered the blow.

Just as he had feared, she ran behind the stone tomb towards the stairs. Yet her voice rebuked them both. ‘Stop,’ she cried. ‘We are all against my father and for Ennae. Let us work together …’

Yet Sh’hale was not listening and Mooraz could do little but struggle against the onslaught of his attack. Blow after jarring blow rang out as Mooraz. tried to fight back, yet even in the centre of the crypt with room to manoeuvre, he was outclassed.

He would die here, and having failed his parents so long ago it should come as no surprise that he would fail the one other person he loved, on whose life his actions depended.

Kert smashed away his blade and it spun from his hand while Mooraz stood helpless before him. The last thing the Be’uccdha Guard Captain saw before he closed his eyes was the fearful face of his Lady, cowering at the base of the stairs, her eyes wide in apprehension and her hair tangled around her face. She had never looked more beautiful.

Lae looked on in horror and screamed, ‘Stop!’ but it was too late. Kert’s blade fell and a horrific blow severed Mooraz’s arm. He collapsed to the ground.

Not waiting to see if he lived or died, Kert turned towards her and though she raced up the stairs he caught her by the arm.

‘Do not think you can escape me, hostage,’ he said, and pushed her against the wall to tie her hands behind her back.

Lae thought to struggle too late, so shocking was this latest betrayal. ‘Hostage?’ she cried. ‘I was for your cause. Why do you need —’

He swung her back to face him, and Lae saw again the swirling in his aura that spoke of obsession and violence. ‘When I find Ghett of Be’uccdha, I will take her to the Volcastle to protect the child of my King which grows within her. And should The Dark try to stop me,’ he said, his eyes gazing down into Lae’s with blind hatred, ‘you will forfeit your life.’

Lae could only stare back, horror compounded by sick remorse. Mooraz, who had never harmed her and had sought to protect her from her father, now lay dead or dying while Sh’hale, whom she thought had been her saviour, would kill her at the first misstep.

Yet just at the moment when Lae thought her woes were at their most grievous, a shadow passed over the crypt entrance, blocking the sunlight from above. Kert dragged her up the last few steps to the Royal Shrine entrance where they both stood, side by side as the scythe of death engulfed their land, blanketing it in a blackness so deep and cold that despite what Khatrene had told her, Lae feared she would never see the sun again.

S
arah McGuire switched off her whipper-snipper and pushed up her goggles. The crashing sound she’d heard was fading but as she turned from the grave-edges she’d been trimming, she saw a bright flash of light over the
Billabong Lawn Cemetery’s
namesake pond.

She frowned and looked up to where puffy white clouds floated in a perfect summer-blue sky. Dry lightning?

A second crash came from the pond and Sarah snapped her gaze back to find a long-haired man now emerging with a bundle of rags clutched to his chest. He was bleeding from the shoulder.

‘Shit!’ Sarah tossed her goggles aside and started the whipper-snipper again, thrust it out in front of her defensively. She glanced around behind her at the chapel. Tuesday morning. No funerals due. No staff present. No one to rescue her.

She turned back towards the man and hiccupped a breath. He’d fallen to the ground, face down. The bundle beside him wriggled.

‘Holy shit.’ Sarah switched off the whipper-snipper and immediately the sound of a baby crying reached her ears. She dropped the edger and ran in to snatch up the baby then darted back, putting a good twenty feet between herself and the man before she unwrapped the bundle.

‘Jes-us.’ Sarah had been trying to stop blaspheming. It was frowned on in her line of work. But this baby was a newborn. Though it was clean as a whistle, the cord was tied in a knot and was still very fresh.

First things first. Its swaddling blanket was sodden so she pulled off her sweater and wrapped it in that, then placed the baby carefully on a patch of dry grass.

She straightened and approached the man. Slowly.

‘Hello? Wake up?’ Nothing. Was he unconscious? Bleeding fugitives always looked unconscious in the movies, but when you touched them they grabbed you. Sarah stretched her foot forward and nudged him. Nothing.

‘Shit. Shit. Shit.’ She looked at him for all of ten seconds, trying to decide if he was dangerous, before dropping to her knees and grabbing his arm. ‘Just do it,’ she told herself, and gritting her teeth, she counted down, ‘Three. Two. One,’ and wrenched on his arm, flopping him over onto his back.

He groaned then and Sarah could see why. The arm she’d just reefed had a dirty big slash in it and for a bad couple of seconds she thought she was going to faint. Something was reacting with his blood, turning it a rust colour and that didn’t help her stomach either. ‘What happened to you?’ she said, looking him over for more wounds but thankfully finding none. His jacket and pants were odd, though, thickly quilted of some coarse fibre. And wet, which wasn’t helpful.

She needed a dry compress. Looked around. Nothing handy, of course. Oh, to hell with modesty. At least she had a bra on. She pulled her T-shirt off over her head and wadded it into a ball which she carefully pressed onto the wound. The shock of that pain brought his eyes open, and for the first time Sarah looked up at his face. Then looked again.

‘Who …?’ Was he an actor? Handsome didn’t begin to describe. He was dangerous all right. Dangerously good looking. She watched his gaze take in her face, then travel across to the sky, the trees, his eyes opening wider with each item he inspected. ‘Your little girl is all right,’ Sarah said, risking a quick glance over her shoulder to where the baby lay whimpering softly.

She looked back as his big brown eyes wavered and slid across to meet hers. ‘Girl?’

Sarah felt her stomach wobble again, but this time for quite a different reason. His voice was the soundtrack of her dreams and it suddenly occurred to her that she was leaning half-naked over a man who was so beautiful he made her teeth hurt. It could have felt like something out of a romance novel, only that he was bleeding so much.

Wounded, she had to remind herself. He’s wounded. ‘It is your baby, right?’ she asked.

He simply repeated, ‘A girl?’

‘I’ve done a first aid course. I can tell the difference.’ Well, that was a partial lie. Her stomach had been too weak to finish, but she had completed the neonatal section. ‘
She
is most definitely a girl,’ Sarah declared.

The man didn’t say another thing. Sarah watched his eyes roll back in his head and then the extravagant eyelashes closed. The shoulder under her hands went limp and that was it. Lights out and no-one home.

Sarah glanced at the baby then looked back to the man, shook her head. ‘What? You were hoping for a boy?’

My profound thanks to my family who were proud of me even before I was published.

Agent extraordinaire Selwa Anthony for her endless encouragement and wise counsel.

Jody Lee from Simon & Schuster, the Fairy Godmother of books. Fellow author and friend Kim Wilkins for the ‘magic’ and for keeping me on track. My childhood friend Ali Weston for feeding my soul and my imagination, and my friends and associates Helen Lacey, Lesley Millar, Lisa Blainey, Helen Bianchin, Sandy Curtis and Catherine Cockburn, who’ve fed me coffee and encouragement for the ten years it’s taken me to get here.

I finally made it guys. Thanks.