Chapter 66. Opening the Way

he walls of his prison closed in on him and he struggled, pushing and kicking, his breath cut off as he drowned.  He could not unfold his body and push off from the inky depths to reach the surface.  Someone had sealed him inside of a bag and tossed him in the sea.  Sinking like a rock, he battled against pliant cloth, his hands curling around it as he fought to hold his breath.  Horror welled up inside of him and he screamed, finding his voice at last.

“Wake up, darling,” came his mother’s voice somewhere above him. Mabane blinked frantically, gasping for air as the nightmare released him.  Teleri rubbed his back and shoulder, drawing him back into safety and reality.

“Poor duckling,” she whispered gently, “you’re all wrapped up in the blankets, no wonder you’re scared.”

She peeled the blankets away and he crawled sweating and shaking into her arms.  The nightmares were getting worse, each more immersive and terrifying than the last.  Somehow Pendaran’s terror was leaking across their bond.  His master was suffering.

“What are you dreaming about, sweetheart?” Teleri asked, kissing his forehead lightly.

“Pen,” he croaked, “We have to save him, Mama.  Can’t they go now?”

“I’m sure they have a reason for waiting,” she said, cuddling him gently, “They’ll find him, never you worry.”

How could he tell her what he knew?   Mabane swallowed past the lump of grief in his throat.  Pendaran was trapped and frightened and very alone and he wanted so badly to go to him.  Someone had to get him out of there.

“Can I sleep near you?” he asked, his voice cracking with misery.  He felt foolish asking such a thing, knowing it was not something a grownup would do.  Teleri hugged him.

“Alright, bring your blankets over and make your bed next to mine,” she sighed ruefully.  He waited until she returned to her side of the tent and shuffled around for a moment, her heavily pregnant form making it difficult for her to get comfortable.  He gathered up his bedding and spread it out between her resting place and the wall of the tent, a small nook that felt well protected and soothing.  He shivered as the cool night air struck his exposed neck and legs where his shift did not cover him. Teleri rolled over to face him, and once he was under the blankets, she sat up and tucked him in, folding the blanket down beneath his chin and tenderly stroking his brow.

“Good night, sweetheart.”

“When Pen comes home, will you let him come back?” Mabane asked as her shadowy form lay down once more. She clasped his hand under the blanket and squeezed his fingers fondly.

“Go to sleep, Mab.  We can talk in the morning.”

He lay awake for a while, listening to the soft sounds of Morisedd, Uriel and his mother breathing peacefully.  If his nightmares disturbed his aunt and uncle, they made neither mention nor sign of it.  He was grateful for that as he clutched the gold key against his breast and opened himself to Pendaran.

“Hang on, Master.  I’ll find you. I’m coming, I promise.”

Closing his eyes, he awaited a response, seeking reassurance that Pendaran was alive if not well.  He silently pleaded for a sign and received nothing but darkness and a faint peal of horror.  Trapped.  Stifling his tears, Mabane curled onto his side and clutched the key,   The tent flap flared and he heard the soft pad of Geetha’s paws.  The big cat found him and flopped companionably against his back, purring loudly.  He rolled over and laid his head against the beast’s silky neck and stroked its flank. 

“You have a way of knowing when I need you most,” he whispered, his voice barely audible above the throaty rumble of Geetha’s contented purrs.  The lynx turned its head and ran its raspy tongue over his hand as if to agree.  Mabane smiled and curled against the beast’s warm back, falling asleep almost immediately.

Thankfully, he did not dream again that night and rose to the smell of freshly baked bread. Geetha had departed undetected during the night and he imagined her frolicking in the forest she so loved. He rolled over and saw Morisedd and Uriel going through their chests of personal effects and sensed something was afoot.  The two of them pulled out their traveling gear and began filling their packs.

“Time to get up, slugabed,” Teleri teased gently, “Wash up and dress while I fetch breakfast.”

He ducked behind the privacy of a blanket wall and cleansed himself hastily with the water left for him in a basin.  He selected his most durable and warm set of clothes, tugging on a pair of heavy boots before dragging a comb through his silky black locks.  He could not let Morisedd and Uriel leave him behind.  Not if today was the day they finally set off to rescue Pendaran.  A pang of fear shuddered through him when he heard them leave.

“You’re dressed for rough and tumble,” Teleri observed as she ducked through the open tent flap while carrying a tray of food.

“I’m going to help clear brush from the garden,” he lied.  She nodded her approval and set the tray between their bedding.  As he knelt, she ruffled his hair fondly and he smiled awkwardly, no longer wanting to be treated like a child.  She laid a steaming bowl of scrambled eggs beside him and a long loaf of warm crusty bread to share. There was a small round of creamy white cheese with a waxy rind that she had sliced in half.

“Feeling better, Mab?” she asked. 

“Yes, Mama.”

“Are you going to play with the other children today?”

“Maybe,” he said between hasty bites, “May I be excused?”

“Done already?  Goodness, child, if you wolf down food like that you’ll make yourself sick.”

He mollified Teleri by attempting to look contrite.  She pulled him over to peck his cheek, then waved him away with a grin.  All the while he kept his half of the cheese and the loaf of bread carefully concealed behind his back.  No one knew about his secret stash in the garden and he waited a moment before going there.  Once he was certain no one was watching, he deftly scrambled up a tree and retrieved it, grateful the local population of squirrels and crows had not yet figured out how to get into the haversack.  He opened a rusty tin box where the rest of his stash of bread, biscuits and cheese were hidden from the last few meals and checked the spring water in his stolen water skin.

Mabane decided that his best bet was to stay near Ebony Starfall.  It was she who knew the ways of magical creatures according to the chatter of the adults who foolishly believed children were too stupid to eavesdrop.  For the last few weeks he had followed her like a forlorn puppy, feigning loneliness so that she would take pity upon him.  To further ingratiate himself, he willingly carried out odd chores on her behalf.  As adults went, he trusted and appreciated her.  She did not try to hide the truth for him, but he also knew to be wary of her.  If she guessed his motives he feared what she might do.

He carried his haversack across the yard as if it were the most normal thing in the world and stashed it behind Ebony’s tent.  Then, ruffling his hair to make himself look extra pitiful, he stood at her tent flap and called her name.

“Good morning, Mabane.  I’m a bit busy this morning.”

“Can I just come sit with you?” he said in his most plaintive little boy voice.

“Alright, but I can’t really talk right now.  Come in and be quiet, alright?”

She was writing on a low lap desk resting on her folded lap.  As he tiptoed across the little tent, she gestured to some pillows where Pendaran had once slept and he obediently went there to watch her, being careful to make no sound.  Mabane was still learning to read, but he recognized some of what she wrote.  They were names, and beside each Ebony was writing notes.  He tried to appear disinterested as he curled up on the pillows, but he took in the names.  Morisedd, Uriel and Lemony were the first three and Mog and Brigit were written out below them.  From this angle he thought the sixth must be Armand but the seventh eluded him.

As noon approached, he dozed off as Ebony cracked open a thick book and scratched more notes on the paper beside the names.  Some hours must have passed, for when he next awakened the tent was dim.  Ebony’s warm voice was chanting softly, a comforting cadence that reminded him of Pendaran reading to him on winter evenings beside the fireplace.

Through hooded eyes he watched her perform her working, fascinated by the way in which she invoked the gods and asked for their protection.  She made nine satchels from a collection of rare herbs and powders she had collected over the prior week.  She bound up each in a square of red silk, chanting softly as she did so.  Her long wizened fingers traced symbols above each charm, binding the magic and directing her energies.  The air was thick with the sweet odor of burning resin issuing from a small brass pot beside her knee.

She appeared to be finished, having set the last aside in a basket with the others.  Then, smiling to herself, she took the last of the herbs and repeated her incantation a final time, tying it up inside the last square of red silk with a deft twist of her hand.  When she was done, she stretched slightly and tossed the charm to Mabane.  He reflexively snatched it out of the air before it hit him on the forehead.

“I thought you were awake,” she chuckled, “Your eyelids moved a little too predictably.”

Mabane blushed, wondering how long she had been aware of his ruse.

“Can I come with you to save my Master?” he asked, hoping that was the meaning of the satchel she had made for him.  He sat up now that he had been discovered.

“Darling, you know I would not allow it.  It is a dangerous place for adults.  How do you think Pendaran would feel if I put you in danger?”

For a moment he hesitated, wanting to tell her about the key and Aramathxes.  Perhaps it would be better to let Ebony take it to Pendaran on his behalf.

“I want to help him,” Mabane persisted, embarrassed when an unwelcome surge of emotion caused his voice to crack.  He hated crying in front of adults.

“Come here, little otter,” she soothed.  He bit his lip, angry with himself for showing vulnerability but longing for comfort.  Mabane sidled closer to her and leaned into her side as she offered a half-embrace.  She smelled of exotic unguents, complex and mysterious and he relaxed with her arm draped protectively over his shoulder.

You’ve had a lot to deal with for one so young and I know you would like to help, but this is a task for grownups.  Your time will come.  You have good teachers and people around you who love you very much. You won’t be a little boy forever.”

“But he needs me,” he wept, “He’s all alone and he’s lost and scared and he can’t find a way out.”

Ebony squeezed him gently.

“I’m sure he will be very happy to see you safe and sound when we bring him home.”

Somehow he ended up in her arms and she passed him a kerchief when he could hold in his grief no longer.  Saying nothing, Ebony stroked his hair and rocked him gently until the storm passed and he lay wearily in her arms, a weight having lifted from his shoulders.

“I need to finish preparations for our journey now.  Is there anything you want me to tell Pendaran when we find him?”

“I miss him.”

“I’ll be sure to let him know that.”

He wished he could have stayed there a while longer and smiled when she kissed his crown and urged him gently aside so that she could put things away.  The sun had long since passed zenith and the high curtain walls of the fortress cast the tent into shadow.  There was a flare of light as the tent flap was drawn aside and Lemony’s round smiling face appeared.

“Threnody has arrived,” the little monk said quietly.

Ebony nodded, rising now and grasping her idol and twisted bone wand.  She gestured to the basket containing the satchels and Lemony picked them up.

“You should run along now and stay with your mother while we’re gone, Mabane.  Thank you for offering to look after my cats.”

He followed her out into the violet light of approaching evening.  The last rays of the low sun painted the upper floors of the great hall golden against a cloud strewn sky of glowing cerulean.  The woodlands beyond the high walls resounded with the luminous song of an evening thrush.  All seemed well with the world.  Across the open cobbles of the yard he saw the others gathered with packs and attired in traveling gear.  Brigit was resplendent in a shimmering shirt of golden brigandine and a tall brass helm with a plume of fiery horse hair. Armand stood beside her in perfectly tailored leathers while his friend Mog towered over them in grass green wool and brocade, too well dressed for such a grim journey.  Morisedd was in his fur-trimmed hunting leathers with a quiver of fiery fletched arrows at his hip and a pair of bows unstrung against his back.  There was Xiang Yi in azure and silver, his shaven head a whorl of elaborate tattoos.  Uriel, like Mog, stood out from the others, resplendent in a gauzy gown of scarlet with accents of gleaming gems.  A bright diadem of fire graced her brow and bound her black-plaits in place.

Teleri was locked in a long embrace with Morisedd as Ebony look her place amid the company and began handing out the satchels she had made, talking quietly as they could be strung around their necks with thin leather thongs.  Mabane tucked his little satchel down the front of his shirt beside the golden key and moved quickly behind Ebony’s tent to retrieve his haversack. As the crowd began edging toward the postern that overlooked the sea, he crept amid the backs of the tents, watching and waiting for his opportunity to creep out after them amid the shadows of the forested hillside.

No one thought to look for him, at least that is what he hoped as he moved undetected through the doorway and crept through the forest.  He saw their procession following the stone-paved path toward the deep azure line of the sea.  As they neared their destination, fewer people continued along that path until at last there was just the band of rescuers following the golden finger of sand that stood between the dense forest and the lapping waves.  Mabane crept closer, hiding behind the sprawl of roots and scrub that edged the beach.

Threnody awaited them at the wide stretch of beach that lay north of the pier, ankle deep in the soughing tide.  Her flesh was the color of sea foam and her eyes the same shimmering green as the shallow waves.  Her long white hair was unbound, flaring around her narrow shoulders.  She was wrapped in translucent gauze that glistened with diamond flecks, a million little stars upon her bosom and hips.  Like a wild creature, she watched them, wary and defiant.

“I grant this boon in the name of the wrongs I have committed,” she said, her voice smooth and sorrowful, “The portal I shall open into Torment shall remain for but a few moments and cannot be opened again until the next new moon.  Your return is assured by the Celestial Sigil to which you are attuned.  Make haste, for your friend is in great peril and will not survive much longer.”

“Demon, I would have you bound that you might not betray us,” Ebony said coldly.

“I am no demon,” Threnody demurred, her pale features cast down in shame, “I am cleansed of torment and serve my goddess, Melandru, once more.”

“Even so, we have no reason to trust you and every reason to despise you.  If you wish forgiveness, then you will agree to the rite.”

“I will not be sundered again,” Threnody wept, “Your words pain me.  Oh please, Armand, tell them that I am not evil.”

“Your deeds are evil,” Armand said, his visage proud and unflinching as the strange woman looked upon him, “Knowing what you did to Pendaran, I cannot bring myself to trust you.  I cannot help but think you may have done those horrible things to me in his stead.”

“I do not have to help you,” Threnody said sharply, “Without me, you have no means of reaching him.”

“But if you are restored to purity, you must,” Ebony said bluntly, “for your goddess would have you undo the evil you have wrought.  Failing that, we have your true name, and I am prepared to punish you with it.”

Threnody dropped to her knees, her features transforming to that of a small child, the girl who had come to Mabane.  She wept softly as she crawled to Ebony’s feet.

“Aramathxes, I bind you in the sight of the gods.  Before all who stand here, I declare that you shall bring no harm upon the winds of the world,” Ebony pronounced, her form wreathed with eldritch green magics as she spoke.  Reaching into her belt pouch, she cast glittering dust over the quivering child.

“Neither breath nor speech shall I impede,” she said sadly, “Neither instinct nor will shall I obscure.”

“I declare that you shall bring no harm by blaze nor spark.”

“Neither strife nor deception shall I seed. Neither flesh nor mind shall I transform.”

“I abjure thee, do not seek to strike from the depths, for that is the unnamed god’s demesne.”

“Neither secret nor darksome plots to weave.  Neither dreams nor wishes to mislead.”

“Bow down, creature of desire, by earth and air and water and fire, you are bound and so must serve.  Aramathxes, I bind you to the light of truth.  I seal this tryst in sacred blood.”

Ebony sliced her arm swiftly with her ritual blade, her features fierce and wise as she stared down at the figure of the little girl.  Mabane looked on in wonder as the child grew translucent, drifting upon the breeze for a moment before expanding and becoming an immense facet of shimmering light.  Its human form fell away and it floated softly upon the water, an immense alien figure with four limbs curled down toward the earth.  Morisedd dropped instantly to his knees and bowed to it.  A moment later all of them knelt to pay homage.

“I am Melandru’s servant.  I will open the way,” said a voice like the slow grinding of stone and the roar of the waves, “Go forth in haste and may you triumph over darkness.”

“We are ready,” Ebony said, bowing again.

Mabane stared in amazement as a line of blinding white light materialized before the strange hunched figure.  As if the world before him were little more than a painter’s canvas, the world parted around the line with a high pitched whine, revealing a pulsating clot of blackness from which a molten core of magenta energies burned.

“Go now!” Aramathxes pronounced.

Grasping their bags and weapons, the eight of them turned toward the towering pool of shadow and walked toward it.  Mabane read hesitance and fear in the stiffness of their gait.  Then, to his horror, they vanished.  Cold sweat oozed from his flesh and he feared both following and being left behind.  Swallowing, he grasped his little haversack and rushed down the beach toward the pulsating darkness.

“Child, no, it is not safe.  Do not go,” rumbled the spirit creature and he sensed that it was trying to collapse the portal.  Biting his lip, he dashed past it, grateful when nothing moved to stop him.  A large brown blur rushed after him and a yowl of dismay pierced the air.

But it was too late.  He fell through darkness, an unearthly chill tearing at his limbs as he flew downward.  A scream issued from his throat and he flailed helplessly, trying to turn back as he realized that whatever awaited him on the other side was terrible beyond imagining.  There was a crash that jarred every bone in his body as the portal collapsed, too late to stop him.  He tumbled over harsh stones and biting thorns, his arms and face stinging with freshly bleeding cuts.

“Geetha,” he sobbed as the lynx trotted protectively toward him and nuzzled his crown.  Mabane stared at the empty black plain stretching out on every side of him, the sun a bloated corpse of lurid red fire. There was not another living soul in sight.  He curled against the big cat and wept into its tawny breast, “I want to go home.”