33. Chapter Thirty Three Callum
Chapter Thirty Three: Callum
Just after noon, after waking Rhowyn and the others, all the preparations had been made. I’d hoped that they would get more sleep, but we needed to move on this quickly. Arryn handed out packs to us with supplies as we gathered, and I strapped on as many weapons as I dared. There was no telling what we’d run across, and I was responsible for two people that Rhowyn cared deeply for. I had to be prepared for everything.
Satisfied that we had done all we could, we had each been swept up by the Ravens to our destinations. Cyerra had been assigned to take Jonathan and me to Iria, one of the villages that seemed to be the root of the rot that was spreading throughout our land. Because of Jonathan’s knowledge of the Winter territory, we had been assigned the furthest destination. The others wouldn’t have as far to travel, but after a night of camping, we should arrive first thing in the morning.
We traveled more quickly than I had anticipated, crossing borders and through towns until we finally reached the edge of Winter territory. After finding a secluded spot near the tree line, Cyerra dropped us off, releasing us from the shadows. We set up camp for the night, along with a few sleeping rolls to rest for a couple of hours. As we gathered up firewood, Cyerra tried to strike up a conversation with us. “So, you’re from the Winter Court?”
Jonathan paused in his task of compiling wood for me to light, eying her like he was astonished that someone would speak to him. “Yes.” His answer was drawn out as if wondering if there was a trap in the question that he couldn’t find.
“What’s it like? Titania is from the Winter Court as well, right?” she rattled off as she set up our bedrolls. For my part, I was sorting through the food we had brought with us.
Jonathan’s eyes darted to me as if I would save him. I snorted at the idea. He was on his own with this one. I could have told her that she had the quietest travel partners while we’d been stuck with the chattiest. I ducked my head to hide my amusement at his discomfort as he cleared his throat. “It wasn’t so different from the other courts when I was a youngling. Already, Titania’s parents had grown power amongst themselves, pushing for their daughter to take the throne somehow. She was groomed for it from a young age. Of course, she was about a few hundred years older than me, and we didn’t run in the same circles. You forget that I was just the son of a Priest of Avalonia. He didn’t get his rise to Head Priest until after I had already begun the rebellion, so I grew up in a small village to the south.”
“Damn. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say that much,” I told him, smirking when he glared at me. I knew Titania now, but I hadn’t known much about her history or how she’d managed to win the trials, to begin with.
“Yeah, well, you haven’t spoken with me much except to tie me up and hold me captive,” he accused, still not letting that go.
I sighed, handing him his portion of the provisions. “This again? We told you why it was necessary. We couldn’t be sure that you wouldn’t lash out at Rhowyn, you know, considering you didn’t know she was your daughter at the time.”
Cyerra took her portion from me as I went to sit next to the sticks that had been stacked up. Thrusting out a hand, I started the fire, barely giving it any thought. Cyerra took a bite. “So, she’d been trained to compete in the trials?”
For once, I was thankful for the girl’s curiosity as Jonathan sighed, chewing slowly on a bite of cheese before answering her. “Yes. But knowing what I know now, those trials had seemed off, the magic wrong. I suspect that even then, she or her parents had found a way to ensure her ascension. She was ruthless, ensuring that many of her competitors didn’t finish for one reason or another. There was no concern for them as she set her sights on what she wanted above all else.”
He paused to take another bite as we ate in silence, letting that information sink in. I stared into the flames, my affinity, as I waited for him to continue. “Looking back, I can see that her selection was the beginning of the end of honor in Avalon. She encouraged backstabbing and ruthless games within the court. Because if they were too busy fighting each other, then they wouldn’t revolt against her and wouldn’t notice what she was doing. Slowly amassing power within herself. I assume it would have continued except the lower fae began to notice that the land was dying. It was the final straw for many.”
“Well, hopefully, we’ll find something when we explore these ruins. What do you think we’ll find?” Cyerra directed this question to both of us.
“Who’s to say,” I responded. This wasn’t my area of expertise, and I wouldn’t even hazard a guess. Jonathan just shrugged his shoulders, obviously done with talking for the evening.
“Whatever it is, it must be important if Titania was searching the area,” Cyerra commented to herself. I hoped she was right and that whatever we found would help us moving forward.
“Either way, we should get some rest. I suspect we’ll have a busy day tomorrow,” I told them, pulling the flames back into myself to extinguish the fire as I went to lay down in my bedroll.
It felt like I had just closed my eyes when moans of fear sounded out in the silent night. Instantly, I was alert and reached for the sword resting next to me. My hand found the hilt within the span of a heartbeat. My eyes darted around for the source until I caught sight of Jonathan tossing and turning, his moans of terror sounding out quietly, lost in the throes of a nightmare.
I debated for a minute before rising and walking over to him, nudging him with my boot. He startled awake, his eyes darting as he sought out the source of danger. After a few moments, his breathing slowed and his eyes relaxed as he realized that the only threat was the one in his mind. Looking at me, he nodded. Neither of us needed to say a word, recognizing kindred spirits, those haunted specters, in each other.
Knowing I wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep, I went back over to my bedroll and started to pack it. Jonathan followed my lead, rolling up his own sleeping pad and blankets. Then we ate more of our provisions, not once speaking aloud, as we let Cyerra recover from our long journey. We’d be pushing her powers to get there and back as quickly as possible. When light started to break over the horizon, I stood and shook her awake. She stretched with a hum, and I wondered if there was ever a time that I had been as innocent as she was now. If I ever had been, it was so far back that I couldn’t recall it. It was refreshing but also painful because I knew that by the time this war with Titania was over, she would be just as jaded. She squinted up at me, blinking to clear the sleep from her eyes. “Time to go already?”
“If you’re feeling up to it?” I asked her, needing to know that she wasn’t going to burn herself out trying to get us there quickly.
She jumped up as if offended. “No, I’m good.” Dusting off her pants, she packed her bag quickly, determination set into her face as she remained silent for once.
“Need to eat?” I asked, letting her know that she needed to care for herself and not worry about rushing on our account. Just because we had been awake for hours didn’t mean that she couldn’t take the time to wake up.
“Nope. Everyone ready?” When we nodded in affirmation, she clamped hands on our shoulders and turned us to smoke once again. Our journey this morning seemed so much shorter, either because Cyerra was moving faster than expected or because a part of me was dreading the arrival to the ruins, with time moving the way it did when you wanted to avoid something. Speeding up and slipping through your fingers before you could prepare yourself for the dreaded event.
The fields slowly morphed from vibrant fields to dead grass. If we had been walking, it would have crunched under our boots. All moisture and life had been sucked from the land, turning the blades into fragile glass. You’d expect that because we were in Winter Territory, the status of the grass was a result of ice and cold, but we were close to summer in Avalon. Which meant that the grass shouldn’t have been so devoid of life. The colors dulled as I witnessed for myself what had everyone so afraid. This was more than just the hibernation of grass in winter, sleeping until spring when it would bloom again. Even if it had been winter, it shouldn’t have looked or felt like this. This was death, never to awaken again, gone from this plane forever.
“Let us down,” I told Cyerra, needing to experience this outside of the shadow form. Not saying anything else, she let us down as if she could feel the same things I was. Once I was on my own two feet again, I stood there, turning in a circle to take in what exactly I was seeing.
The village and homes were vacant, crumbling before our eyes as if even the wood that had built them was dying from the effects of the magic drain. Beneath it all, there was an insidious feeling that crept up my body from the soles of my boots, crawling up my spine like fingers caressing the hair on the back of my neck. Whatever this was, it was wrong. Unnatural.
Cyerra whispered as if afraid to disturb whatever was causing this sensation. “Is this what Rhowyn was talking about? That the land was dying?”
“This is something different, something more malevolent,” Jonathan spoke up as he took a few steps forward, eyes scanning our surroundings as if the answer was just up ahead.
Not a creature stirred because there was no life in our vicinity, yet our movements almost sounded muffled. Like a blanket had been laid down across the ground so that everything was dampened. An oppressive weight hung in the air, and I knew just what Jonathan was talking about. This was not the same thing. It was worse.
“Come on, let’s see if we can find the ruins. The sooner we can get out of here, the better. Keep your eyes peeled. I don’t have a good feeling about this place,” I told them, taking the lead as I walked down the main street. From what I had heard from the others during our planning, the ruins would be the heart of the rot, a vibrant spot amongst all the death. If we kept walking, we would run across it sooner or later. I was hoping for the sooner part of that statement though, not afraid to admit to myself that I was creeped out by this place.
As we kept walking slowly, our muscles tense and waiting for something to jump out at us at any moment, we finally saw what Brannoc had described. “Is this it?” Cyerra asked.
“Has to be,” I said as I stared at the twisted vines and bushes, so thick I was concerned we wouldn’t make it through there. It would take ages if we hacked at it with swords, the vines as thick as my thighs. “Any suggestions on how we get through?” If one of us had Earth magic, we’d be able to get the foliage to peel back from the entrance, but none of us did.
Cyerra smiled, bouncing on her toes. “Of course.” She grabbed my arm and apparently Jonathan’s as well as she compressed us back into smoke form, squeezing us through the branches and drifting through the opening of what looked like an ancient temple.
As soon as we had made it inside, she released her magic and smirked at us. “A little warning next time,” I growled at her as I stumbled upon landing, not happy with her snatching us up without notice.
She giggled in response. Great, just what I needed. Another female in my life that got her kicks from aggravating me. Jonathan had taken a few steps further into the temple, his attention on our surroundings as he eyed the walls, before turning to look at me over his shoulder. “A little light?”
Obliging, I stepped up next to him while calling fire into my hand. Cradling a small ball of flame, I held it up to the stone, noticing some kind of inscription for the first time. Cyerra walked over until her nose was nearly touching the damp stone, tilting her head as she studied the writings. “What are they?”
As she spoke, her smoke drifted from her, her tattoos glowing on her skin. “Um. Cyerra,” I stuttered, not sure how to tell her that this place was having an effect on her.
When she turned with an eyebrow raised in question, Jonathan thankfully spoke up. “The writings look like your tattoos, which are now glowing, by the way.”
“What!?” she exclaimed, jumping back from the wall, looking down at her bare arms to see the blue hints of color that faded the further she got from the wall, from luminescent to matte. “What the fuck!?”
“It seems that whatever’s in the stone is reacting to you,” Jonathan said, the same puzzled look on his face that Arryn got when he went into research mode.
“I’ve heard that Ravens aren’t necessarily from these lands. Like the humans and elves, you migrated here thousands of years ago,” I said, not sure where I remembered that fact, but it seemed pertinent now as my brain made the correlation between the two.
“Mother would know, but that’s a history that only the council and Chieftain know, handed down as someone takes up the role,” she said, obviously disconcerted by the connection. I didn’t blame her. This place felt evil and wrong, something that many suspected of the Ravens, but I had since learned that my assumptions had been fallacious. Brannoc had only ever been the tool, not the actual trigger, and the others mostly kept to themselves.
Jonathan stared at a couple of the markings on her arm. “This one here is on the wall. What do they say?” he asked, turning back to study the wall again.
Her eyes dipped to where he pointed before speaking. “That one means ‘swift’. The tattoos are earned. A story of our accomplishments, proficiencies, status in the community, and traits we’re born with. Everything you could want to know about us is written on our skin when we reach maturity.”
“But Brannoc’s are a different color, black instead of the soft blue?” I stated the truth, but was also asking a question, intrigued by why that was. I had noticed it back at the Enclave, but it hadn’t seemed important at the time.
I held up the flame, pushing it closer to the wall as Jonathan continued to study the inscriptions that covered the stones from floor to ceiling, a story that we couldn’t hope to understand. Not any time soon. “The color comes from our connection with each other and with participation in our ceremonies. When we come of age, we all have black tattoos. It’s only when we drink and partake in the food prepared for our feast that they turn blue. The colors vary to a degree depending on our heritage. I assume that his are still black because he’s never been a part of our Enclave. Not really.”
Nodding, I turned to Jonathan and asked, “Anything?”
He sighed, stepping back. “No. However, do we have parchment or paper? I’ll also need something like charcoal. I want to create a rubbing. Something to take back with us to study in more detail.”
Cyerra dug in her bag and pulled out the wax paper that had been used to wrap her cheese, munching on what was left of it while handing the paper to Jonathan. I turned and headed back to the foliage and vines, snapping off a small branch. After stripping it of leaves, I then burned it slightly with my fire to create what he needed. Handing it over, I took the wax paper from him. Holding my flame a short distance from the surface, careful not to burn it, I melted the wax, the remnants left to drip onto the floor. Satisfied, I handed it back to him as well.
He promptly turned and began rubbing different symbols from various sections. As he worked, he drifted through the large room, and I sent my flame ahead to light his way. Cyerra and I followed quietly, taking in the rest of the temple. Statues of foreign beings with Ravens on their shoulders lined the hall in intervals. Their appearances were similar to the High Fae, but the lines of their bodies and faces were harsher and sharper.
As we reached the back of the temple, I noticed a doorway. “What’s this?” I asked, though it was rhetorical. Jonathan’s attention turned to see what I’d found. I pushed on the door, but it didn’t budge, holding fast. “Wonder what’s back there?”
“Should we really be pushing our luck? Why do I get the feeling that we won’t like what we find if we do get in there?” Cyerra asked.
I shrugged as I answered her. “We need to bring something back. Something other than these rubbings. Something here caught Titania’s attention, and we need to figure out what it was. If we don’t then this mission has effectively failed. No offense, Jonathan, but I don’t think we’ll figure out that language in time.”
“None taken,” he said, more focused now on the room hidden from us.
“What if we all pushed together?” Cyerra suggested, bolstering her courage.
Unable to find an argument to that suggestion, Jonathan and I placed our hands on the door, pushing before she could even join us. It still wouldn’t budge, at least not until Cyerra placed her palms on the stone and her skin began to glow again. A lock clicked, and the door swung open easily. Jonathan and I stared down at Cyerra in shock and question at what had just happened.
She shrugged sheepishly, her cheeks turning pink even in the dim light. “You wanted in the room; seems we’ll get to see what was locked away after all.”
Smirking and gesturing ahead of me, I said, “Ladies first.”
She guffawed. “Age before beauty, I must insist.” Her eyes danced with mirth and only a hint of hesitance about entering the mysterious room.
Jonathan huffed at our antics, pushing between us both and heading through the now-open door. I brought my fire back and sent it ahead of him. Cyerra followed once she was certain that nothing would jump out and eat Jonathan, with me bringing up the rear. I finally got my chance to take in the room that had been locked. Turning in a circle, I was completely perplexed by the plain stone walls and emptiness found there. There was nothing here. Either Titania had already gotten what was in here, or there was nothing here to begin with.
“Maybe someone beat us to it?” Cyerra asked, stepping closer to the walls to see if she was missing something.
“Something was here. Is here. Can’t you feel it?” Jonathan asked, not looking at either of us.
Now that he mentioned it, that same heavy feeling that had pervaded my senses upon entering the rotting ring when we first arrived now stood out to me. The malevolent magic pulsed in waves, and as I focused on the feeling, I was drawn to the back of the room. Thinking back to the maze in the first trial, I figured it couldn’t hurt to push the stones again. “Here, help me,” I said as I continued shoving each individual square. “Whatever it is, it’s coming from behind this wall.”
Cyerra and Jonathan started pushing as well. We worked from edge to edge, each of us taking a section to ensure we didn’t miss one. Sure enough, to the far left of the room, just above Cyerra’s head, I found a stone that had missing mortar. It wouldn’t budge, but I wondered if it was locked the same as the door. “Cyerra, push on this one,” I told her.
She did as I had instructed, but it still didn’t budge. Well, shit. What now? “What if I went back there in my smoke form?” she asked, hesitant about that idea and for good reason.
“We don’t know what’s back there. It could be a trap,” Jonathan reasoned with her.
She shrugged, tilting her head up as she said, “We’ll never know if we don’t try.” Before we could stop her, she turned into smoke disappearing into the crack in the wall.
Fuck. If something happens to her, Rhowyn will kill me.