Storm Holt (The Prophecies of Zanufey Book 3) (14 page)

‘We don’t need to listen to this nonsense do we, Socks,’ Coronos said to his mount, and began trotting up the dusty road.
 

Asaph frowned at her. She laughed. ‘He’s called Socks because it looks like he’s got socks on.’ She pointed at the horses long white legs that abruptly turned into dappled grey over the rest of his body. She nudged Duskar to follow Socks, and he did so but kept his distance. A moment later Asaph went shooting past them at a canter he could barely control. He pulled up short a few yards ahead, cursing loudly. It was going to be a fun ride, Issa grinned to herself.

They left the city from the North Gate, and took the long dusty road leading north. She was very used to riding horses, and it turned out Coronos was well-ridden too. Together they helped Asaph learn the different gaits of his horse. He struggled at first, cursing all the while, but eventually he picked it up. She cheered when he got it right, pleased to see he was a fast learner, it meant the journey would move swiftly.
 

Inch by inch she managed to move Duskar closer to Socks, until they walked side by side but a good two yards apart. After an hour of riding, they’d settled into a shared pace. Duskar was slowly getting used to the other horses now they had learned not to get too close to him. The horses seemed quite content to trot up rolling hills and canter down the other side. Asaph was either in front or behind, but always just close enough to join in the conversation. Coronos took out the map he’d sketched from the huge map hanging in the hall of Corsolon Castle.
 

‘As planned, we’re on the Old North Road. This wide dusty road can be seen for miles around, and it leads north-west all the way to Carvon,’ Coronos said.

‘It’s a busy road,’ Issa said, noting the increasing number of soldiers, merchants, couriers and everything in between moving along it. All on their errands between the two busy cities.
 

‘Yes, which makes it safer, thankfully. I’ve not travelled this road for a long time, but I think it will take three days of non-stop riding to get there, or four with rest,’ he judged.
 

‘A long journey, given the message we deliver,’ Issa said, feeling the haste of impending attack hanging over them.

‘They may attack now or in a month, but attack they will,’ Coronos said, putting the map away in his shirt pocket.

‘Do you think they will attack the Uncharted Lands?’ Asaph asked, worry creasing his brow.

Coronos nodded. ‘They will attack everything and anything, and take over the whole of Maioria if they are not stopped. Perhaps they are attacking the Uncharted Lands as we speak. If they are not then they will. Our freedom is all but a matter of time.’

‘If every man, woman and child fought we could drive them from Maioria,’ Issa growled.

Coronos shook his head. ‘Even then I don’t think it would be enough. The simple fact of the matter is we don’t have enough people or power to stand against the Maphraxies.’

‘We don’t if they are scattered all over Maioria,’ Asaph said.

‘Perhaps,’ Coronos shrugged. ‘Maybe if the elves returned. Maybe with all the tribes of the Uncharted Lands. Maybe with the goddess on our side.’

Issa chewed her lip. ‘We have to fight, we have to try. We have to mean something, why else would Zanufey speak to me? Why else would Feygriene speak to and guide the last Dragon Lord alive? It cannot be for nothing, and I don’t believe in coincidences.’
 

‘There’s much to be done, but first things first,’ Coronos said. ‘We must get to Carvon and speak to King Navarr. We can do no more and no less. An army must be formed on the western coast, but only the king has the power to command soldiers in his land. At least the mayor was right about something.’

Issa nodded. She felt frustrated and impotent. If the Maphraxies attacked now they would not be able to stop it.

‘CAN one sleep in the astral planes?’ Freydel’s own voice echoed around him. He was meditative, almost in a trance.

‘I guess one must if one has a physical body,’ he mused. His answer to his own question seemed to come from further away, as if he were two people talking amongst themselves. When he was trying to work out something complex he would often talk to himself this way, questioning his higher self for answers. It worked so effectively here beyond the physical world that he began to feel that he was indeed two people.

‘But to separate mind from body, must the mind go higher than the astral planes to sleep?’

‘Higher than the astral planes are the ethereal planes. Maybe that is where the mind must go whilst the body sleeps,’ he replied to himself.

‘Am I asleep?’

‘Yes,’ his own voice replied, but from further away.
 

‘Ah, then it is not so dangerous,’ he breathed and relaxed, feeling himself drift.

‘The body cannot survive, especially not without the mind,’ he spoke to himself aloud, the sound of his own voice brought him back again. ‘It will soon disperse into pure energy and become part of the astral planes.’

He came awake fully then as his voice of reason faded. He blinked in the growing light that finally gave him a visual reference. He was walking, or more like floating weightlessly, across a vast sea of pinkish-white clouds of energy. All around moved nothing but pure energy just like when he stepped into the Flow, only this was far stronger and far purer. To his consciousness everything was dreamlike and surreal.

‘Have I died? Maybe I’m still dreaming. Or am I moving in the ethereal planes?’

He went to reach into his pocket, but only when he looked down did his physical body materialise, as if thinking he had a physical body made his body appear.

‘Thought precedes creation,’ he murmured. He hoped to the Great Goddess that he would remember all this when he got home.
When I get home…
I’m trapped here. My body is probably already dead.
The thought made him sad, briefly. The peace and infinite knowing of this place flowed through him and everything else was insignificant, even his physical body. Here he was unfettered by the chains of his cumbersome mortal self.
If I die here it would be a welcome thing.
 

He pulled out the orb. It was still black but much less solid. The energy around him responded and began to pool around the orb in swirls. He watched entranced. Was the energy of the orb communicating to the energy of the ethereal planes? He felt tired and laid himself down upon the flowing energy, still watching the orb. ‘I shall stay here, where it is calm and peaceful.’

A voice came from far away, a rich female voice that he could not quite make out.

‘Leave me, I’m tired,’ Freydel breathed, and felt himself drifting.

‘Freydel.’ The voice was right beside him. He sat up and stared up at the woman that had appeared before him. She was a little like the beings he’d seen in the pyramids, only her skin was pale pink and she had hair. She was not as tall as the other beings, but still she moved with grace.
 

‘You are an Ancient,’ Freydel whispered in wonder. ‘The orb has shown me the Ancients of long ago.’ He held it up to her but she moved away from it. He did not quite believe she was real. All of this could be just one long strange dream.

‘How can it be? How can you be here? How can the orb be here physically?’ Her eyes were wide, making them seem even larger than normal.

‘I
am
here physically. I am dying,’ Freydel said, but he wasn’t sad and instead he smiled. ‘Baelthrom trapped me in the astral planes and I cannot return. The orb is protecting itself, it has a will of its own.’ He spoke openly, still only half believing the woman before him was real.

‘Hush, never say that name here,’ the woman looked about herself and shifted. ‘He must never discover the planes beyond the astral.’

‘Ah,’ Freydel breathed as understanding dawned upon him. He
was
beyond the astral planes. It was the pure energy of the place combined with the power and memory of the orb that helped him to make sense of everything he had seen and experienced. ‘I have seen him, Bael…’

‘Shhh,’ the woman warned again.

‘I saw him in another time, another place, long ago,’ Freydel continued, feeling himself lucid and dreamlike, and yet understanding many things. The woman’s face was a mask of fear and wonder. ‘The orb took me to a place where it could be safe, before the creation of Bael… Before he fell.’ A different thought occurred to Freydel. ‘How do you know my name?’

‘I too am trapped here,’ she said. ‘But I’m cursed by
him
. A powerful curse that I can’t break because I cannot set foot upon the physical world for long. I am Yisufalni.’

Freydel frowned - he knew the name, it was important, but he could not bring it to mind. ‘I think my body has already died, Yisufalni.’ Her face wavered before him, and he felt himself drifting away again.

‘Freydel.’ The word brought him back. ‘You have not died, you could not be here if you had. There’s still time. Return to the physical world, return now.’

He laughed. ‘But I don’t know how, and perhaps it is better if I stay here. You know he was not called Bael… He was called Ayeth.’

He learned then the power of calling aloud a name, and like waking from a dream into another dream he felt himself falling fast and darkness engulfed him.

‘I know you are there, hiding in the shadows. Show yourself to me,’ a man’s voice demanded.

Freydel did not understand the language, but he understood the words that formed in his aching mind, and that voice he’d heard before.

‘Where are you? Do you really think I - or any of us - cannot see you? Why are you here?’

Freydel blinked in the dimly lit place, feeling so utterly lost and confused as to where he was and what was going on that he began to think his soul was trapped. He was a ghost forever trapped in a time and place he did not belong. He found himself in a blue crystal cavern, deep cobalt crystals covered the walls and ceiling of what seemed to be some sort of natural cave. The crystals glowed and gave off a soft light. There was one crystal unlike the rest and set apart from them. It was twelve feet tall and as thick as an ancient tree trunk. This crystal was translucent white and it did not glow.

‘There you are,’ said the being standing beside the crystal.
 

Freydel recognised Ayeth. His blue stone amulet shone like the crystals and his eyes were dark as they watched him. Another figure stood beside him. Delicate and slender, smaller than Ayeth, and stunningly beautiful. Her face was smooth and silver, and her lips were soft pearlescent. When Freydel saw her eyes he caught his breath and shivered. They were all black and made her look soulless.
 

They were both staring right at him, and he backed away. The Flow moved in great swathes around the beings, and his own magical powers felt minuscule compared to the magic they could command. The woman smiled, but the smile did not reach her eyes. Freydel distinctly felt immense sorrow and anger flow from her.
Feelings are energy, energy is felt stronger in the astral planes,
his reasoning voice reminded him
.

‘You do not speak our tongue. Where are you from and how are you here?’ Ayeth demanded.

Freydel felt his heart pounding, making his head ache even more. He was positively feeling ill now, his body could take no more. He couldn’t deny any longer that they could see him and so he spoke, wondering how they would hear him.

‘I’m trapped here, I’m trying to return,’ he said and swallowed.

‘A ghost, trapped. That is a punishment we have on our world,’ the woman said. Her voice was smooth and high pitched. Freydel didn’t understand what she meant, but she made him very nervous.

‘Not a punishment. I was fleeing danger. Now my time is short.’ Could they help him with their power and technology? Hope sparked within him.

‘Where are you from?’ Ayeth asked, coming a step closer. His alien form and the power that emanated from him were incredibly intimidating. Freydel felt weak and ignorant - the feelings were so strong he wondered if Ayeth and the female were somehow making him feel them.