Embers at Galdrilene (19 page)

As the sun began its slow descent on the evening of the third day out from Yari, they topped a tall hill. Below, a lake of crystal clear water lay in a large circle. The smooth sand of the beach ran straight into the water that remained shallow only a few yards out before dropping off sharply into deep indigo depths.

Kirynn stared at the water, an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. In her mind, the hum turned to a disturbed rumble. She didn’t know why, but the idea of touching the water made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

Serena let out a sigh. “That looks lovely.”

Emallya shot a stern look at her. “You will not touch the water. You will not even go near the banks.”

Serena looked down at the lake, her brow furrowed. “But why? It would be wonderful to wash some of the travel grime off.”

Emallya looked at each of them in turn, her violet eyes sharp. “Look closely, Foundlings, and tell me what is not right about this lake.”

Vaddoc was the first to answer, “The lake is perfectly round. There is no variation in the shore line.”

Kellinar frowned. “The sand of the shore stays the same. It never gets narrow, never gives way to grass or brush.”

Kirynn studied the surface of the lake a moment. “There is a breeze today, but there isn’t a ripple on the water; it’s as smooth as glass. There is no reflection of the sky in it either.”

Emallya nodded. “Nor will you find any plant or fish life in its waters. Not even waterfowl land here.” She dismounted and picked up a fist sized rock. She strode closer to the shore and tossed it out over the water. It soared in a smooth arc before landing without a sound in the glassy surface and sinking. No ripples disturbed the surface. The lake lay clear and still.

“There’s something really wrong with that water,” Loki said, eyeing the water like it might bite.

Emallya walked back up the hill and mounted her horse. “There is a small spring by those trees.” she said, pointing to a group of trees growing about a quarter of the way around the lake from where they stood. “We will camp there.”

“How did the lake come to be this way?” Vaddoc asked.

Emallya stared at the lake with a faraway look and said softly, “Long ago a group of people who lived to keep peace and protect were betrayed here with disastrous results. They were caught by surprise and the battle that ensued devastated their ranks.

“Cities have fallen and risen since then, generations come and gone. Almost all have forgotten those that fought and died here, but the lake remembers.” She looked around at them. “Your powers are not yet strong enough to handle touching the water. Even when you have gained that strength the waters are treacherous. Your spirit can be pulled in if you are not careful. The veil between the planes of life and death is thin within the waters of the lake. In the aftermath of the battle, it became a portal to Maiadar–
t
he realm of the dead.”

Kirynn looked down at the lake, her every instinct screaming to stay away from it. “Why would we ever want to touch the water?”

The older woman glanced at her. “If you touch it at the right time, things can be seen within it.”

Kirynn shot the older woman a sharp look. “Cryptic as ever. Do you always answer questions so vaguely or is that just to drive us flaming crazy?”

Emallya sighed. “When night has passed and the sun has not yet risen if you feed your power into the lake and can resist its pull on your soul, the past, the present, and the future may be revealed. It is treacherous beyond the pull. Only the past and present are set in stone. The future it shows you may never come to pass. A single decision can completely alter what you have seen. Too many forget it is only a suggestion of what may happen.”

“I thought you said no one comes to this lake.” Kirynn said, feeling as if the woman left something important out.

“They don’t…anymore.”

Kirynn threw her hands up in disgust. “I give up trying to pry things out of you.”

“I will tell you more when–” Emallya began, but Kirynn cut her off.

“When the time is right...yes you keep telling us that. Since you aren’t going to tell us, why don’t you lead the way to this spring?”

Emallya smiled and kicked her horse into a trot. They followed her to the spring. The water bubbled up from the ground in a small pool before it flowed in a little stream away from the lake. A small rise hid the still and silent lake from view. They unpacked the horses and after letting them drink from the stream, tethered them out to graze before gathering wood for a fire.

Kirynn looked down at the small pile of wood and prepared to set the fire, feeling power building inside. She only meant to allow a trickle to build, just enough to start the evening’s fire as she had done for so many nights, but in the time it took her to gasp it built beyond control and flames burst all around her. It only took her a moment to regain control and put them out.

Everyone was staring at her. She glanced down. Although her skin and hair were untouched, her clothing hadn’t been so lucky. She stood next to the piled wood without a stitch on. Kirynn rolled her eyes. “That’s not exactly what I planned.”

A small smile turned up the edges of Emallya’s mouth. “This is what I mean about a lack of control. Sometimes it will do exactly as you wish and other times it has a mind of its own. I do have to thank you though for maintaining enough control to keep from burning the entire campsite down.”

“You’re welcome, I guess.” Kirynn began building the power again. Her nakedness didn’t bother her. She’d spent too long on the battlefield, bathing with everyone else when they got the chance, dealing with wounds and everything else under the sun. Even the appreciative looks Kellinar sent her way didn’t bother her. Her body was worth looking at. She set a small flame and released her power, watching the fire grow as it happily licked the wood. With the fire burning well, she went to her horse and pulled clothing from her packs, thankful she had extra.

While she dressed Vaddoc made tea. When it finished brewing, Kirynn drew the heat out of the fire and allowed it to dissipate. They sat next to the cold charred wood and ate a small meal of cheese, traveling cakes, dried meat and winter withered apples.

Emallya sat quietly on the rise looking out over the lake. The sun finished its descent and in the full dark of night the still waters were an obsidian circle, spreading out beneath her resting spot. A full moon hung in the sky, though its silvery light didn’t touch the surface of the water and the lake lay as a deeper black against the night.

She remained perfectly still in the shadows, listening to the quiet conversations between the Foundlings behind her as they settled down for the night. They expected her to wake them for their turn to watch, but she had every intention of keeping the night watch herself. Something wasn’t quite right. She could feel it on the air and knew they were going to need their rest come morning.

She reached out for the Foundling. He was there somewhere in the darkness. He wasn’t far. She could see almost as well at night as she could during the day. He had to be on the other side of one of the hills to her right and she caught a faint trace of…another? Was that what pulled at him? It made her uneasy and she waited for dawn, knowing it would bring more than the last Foundling.

A
s the sun slipped beneath the horizon, Maleena and Mckale found themselves overlooking a round lake, its waters dark and unreflective in the falling light. Maleena stared at the water. The presence in her mind stirred, a sad note to its hum.

“We shouldn’t camp here, at least not near the water,” she said, her eyes never leaving the lake.

Mckale looked at her, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Why? It would be a good place to water the horses and we need to stop, you’re exhausted.”

She shook her head. “I can’t explain it, but we shouldn’t stay near the water. Nor should we allow the horses to drink it.”

“They are thirsty. We have traveled far today and they deserve a good drink.”

Maleena felt small threads of fear winding their way through the animals. “If you can get the horses to drink from the lake, then we will camp where you wish. If not then we camp away from the water.”

“Agreed.” He signaled his horse forward.

He rode down the slope toward the lake. The closer they got, the more his mount protested. Within a few feet of the smooth, sandy shore, his horse stopped and refused to go farther. Mckale tried to urge the stallion forward several times, finally giving up when the horse half-reared in protest.

“Alright Blain, if you must agree with her, then you must.” Mckale sighed and turned the horse away from the shore and directed him around the lake a short way to a level area between two hills. The horse complied, but kept his head cocked toward the lake, nervously snorting at it every few steps. As Maleena followed behind, her mount also kept a wary eye on the lake.

Maleena slid off her mare. She slipped the bridle off, clipped the tether on the halter and staked her out. She pulled the packs and saddle from her back. The old mare was tired, Maleena could feel it. The poor, sweet thing wasn’t used to such travel and the past several weeks had been hard on her. She gave Arella an affectionate pat and left her to graze.

They settled down to a meal of more traveling cakes, washed down with water from their bags. Maleena thought wistfully of hot tea, but said nothing. Mckale insisted on not having a fire for safety.

The Kojen were closing in on them. Maleena felt it all around her as if they made the air ahead of them oily. The lake kept invading her mind, too. Something wasn’t right; the water didn’t lap at the shore. The lake lay in eerie silence, yet she sensed things within its depths and heard whispers of another time.

It made her edgy. When Maleena finally settled down in her sleeping roll, she lay staring up at the bright moon. The light didn’t shine off the lake. Perhaps it wasn’t made of real water. She rolled over and stared at the black smudge in the night. The essence in her mind rumbled as if the lake disturbed it, too. She closed her eyes, but could still hear the whispers.