Book 5 Chapter 1

1st of Starrise, 24th Year of the 11th Rebirth The End of the World, The Isle of Light

A priest, seven royal guards, a tracker, a twice-named smith, and half a dozen servants sat together in the center of a small island off the northern coast of the Isle of Light. The island was perhaps a day’s ride from south to north and slightly less from east to west. The clearing they were camped in was dominated by a stone arch, three men wide and two men high. The stones themselves were flat, anywhere from one to three inches thick, and cut in rough squares. Whomever had stacked them hadn’t paid much heed to lining them up neatly. Moss grew over them, as it did over the flagstones of the small courtyard area surrounding the arch. In places the courtyard was framed by low, crumbling stone walls, overgrown with weeds. The party had finished breakfast and were prepared for another day of waiting and standing watch in front of the gateway that connected the Isle of Light to the Wide World, the world they had left behind eleven generations earlier. According to the priests, this stone arch, this gateway, was the tether between the worlds. And in the last twenty-four years that tether had weakened considerably. “We didn’t want to make this voyage at all, but High Priest Gold-Spark demanded it,” the priest was saying. Most of the waiting group was paying him little mind but the smith, Kaelen Iron-Heart, and the tracker, Devin Sun-Stag sat in rapt attention. “The last time we tried, the priests who ventured over barely made it home.” “Why?” Devin said. “What dangers did they face?” “Without five princesses, the gateway has become unstable, weakened. See how it flickers and threatens to close? It was worse the last time. And out here, at the edge of the world, we are too far from Airon and his temple, too far from the princesses we have found. We are vulnerable.” “Vulnerable to what? We have guards,” Kaelen snapped. “Dark Spirits,” Devin said. “We’re closer to their territory now, aren’t we?” “If they have a territory then yes, we are closer to it,” the priest said. “They cling to the edges and this is the final edge for us.” Devin glanced northwards. Tall, scraggly trees obscured his view of the northern shore of the island a half-day’s ride away, but he knew what it looked like. The island fell away and the sea beat upon the ragged cliffs with such vengeance that the spray topped those high rock walls to mist anyone who stood upon the stony edge. Though it had been full light when Devin had stood upon the cliffs, the stormy sea beyond was quickly lost in shadow. The cloudy sky along the horizon crackled with lightning. The wind was strong, strong enough that it had threatened to drag him over the precipice more than once. More concerning had been the whispers in the wind, a voice so soft and low that Devin had not been able to make out anything resembling words. But the intent was not lost. Whatever that voice had said, the malice and danger carried through loud and clear. Kaelen snickered and shook his head. “You’ve seen the men and women affected by these Dark Spirits with your own eyes,” the priest said. “Aye,” Kaelen said. “A real threat, I know that. But a here and now threat, not some dark, mystical force out to destroy our island.” Devin said nothing. He was the only person here from the Carainhithe, a people generally looked down upon by most of the provinces, especially the Metalkin, and though he was twice-named he’d not had contact with his family in years. Kaelen was an elder son, not the family heir, but high enough up the hierarchy of a powerful enough family to earn himself a place on this errand, even though he had no real purpose here. If Kaelen decided to make his life miserable it would be an easy task, and it would not end with the end of this voyage. Still, he had stood and faced the darkness, and something in the darkness had threatened him. And I would bet any amount asked that the darkness was threatening more than just me. The darkness beyond the sea means to swallow us all whole. The swirling, flickering lights of the gateway seemed to shudder for a moment and then the edges became solid, firm for the first time since they’d arrived here. The clouds parted, and the clearing was bathed in golden sunlight. A young woman stepped through the gateway. “Bloody hell!” Everyone in the camp shot to their feet at the sharp sound of her words, spoken with passion in a heavy, rolling accent. Behind her four priests stepped through the gate, their faces lit up in excitement. They were all speaking at once. The young woman was staring at everything with wide green eyes. She had red hair, as expected, thick and wavy and cut to shoulder length. It framed her lightly freckled face accentuating the rosy blush of her cheeks. Aside from that first exclamation of surprise, she said nothing. In fact, aside from the priests, who hadn’t stopped talking and were still talking over each other, no one said anything. The woman, the missing princess Devin realized, took an unsteady step forward. Her gaze shifted from everything else to her own feet. She frowned. She tried another step, but her knees were noticeably trembling. Her mouth transformed into a silent ‘o’ of concern and she stopped trying to walk. She looked up, looking at each person around her in turn. Devin could see the colour had drained from her face. Her gaze met Devin’s and lingered. “Bloody hell,” she said, softer this time. And then her eyes flickered shut, her knees buckled, and she dropped to the mossy stones. There was a moment of absolute silence as even the priests stopped talking, and then pandemonium.
“She’s opening her eyes.” “Give her a little space.” The young woman groaned and rubbed her head. “What happened?” “You’re in shock,” said the young man at her side. “You fainted. Aside from a bump on your head you’re just fine. I have some water here if you’re thirsty.” “Please. My mouth feels like cotton.” He helped her sit and held her elbow as she drank from the odd leather sack. She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and looked around. She was sitting on moss-covered cobblestones in the middle of a forest clearing. Everyone around her looked like actors at some sort of Shakespeare play. Finally, she said, “I guess they weren’t lying. And I guess it wasn’t a bad trip. Unless I’m still tripping?” “You didn’t trip on anything,” the man said. “Not that I saw. You’re likely in shock. Can you stand? I can help you.” “I will help her,” said a deeper voice. “She is my princess, not yours.” She turned. There was a large man with a black beard just behind her. “Who are you?” “Kaelen Iron-Heart,” he said, bowing as best he could when he was already on his knees. “Princess Ashlyn, it is an honour to meet you at long last.” “Ashlyn?” She looked back to the first man. He was smaller, leaner, and had lighter hair. Both were dressed in archaic fashion but there was a vast difference in the quality of their clothes. “I don’t …” “You’re up! Excellent!” One of the priests who had journeyed through the gate bustled over. The woman’s eyes flared. “You!” She struggled to her feet and both Devin and Kaelen scrambled to assist her. The priest took an uncertain step back. “Where am I? What is this place? What did you do to me?” “We told you. You are the lost princess, one of five rulers of the Isle of Light. You were able to see us, you were able to see the gateway, and you were able to pass through the gateway.” “The swirling portal thing on Beech Hill Road?” “I don’t know how you name your landmarks and towns,” the priest said. “But yes, it was a swirling circle of light. You saw it, you agreed to walk through it.” “I didn’t think anything would happen! This is impossible. Take me back, now.” “I can’t, it’s …” “TAKE ME BACK!!” “Miss,” the lean man said, drawing her attention away from the quivering priest. “What is your name?” “Her name is Ashlyn,” the large man grumped. She pulled her arm free of the large man’s grasp and said, “My name is not Ashlyn, that’s not even my middle name. My name is Mallory Catherine Brock.” She focused on the lean man in the odd leggings as he seemed to be the most rational one in the group. “I want to go home.” “He’s right, the priest. He can’t take you back now.” “Why not?” “After you and the priests of Airon returned through the gateway, it closed. We don’t know how to open it.” “It … what do you mean it closed?” “See for yourself.” He turned her so that she was facing the giant stone arch. It looked like a ruin, like the walls on either side had crumbled and whatever wooden door might have been there had rotted away leaving nothing but the arched doorframe. For a long moment she stared through the arch at the trees beyond. “Where is the portal?” “The light went out. There is no gate. There is no way to travel between the Isle of Light and the Wide World without that gate.” “So? Open it again.” “We can’t.” “You opened it before. You opened it and you came through and you tricked me into coming here. Now open it back up and let me go.” The priest stepped forward again, trembling. “My apologies, Princess. We did not open the gate. Airon does that.” “Well, where is this Aaron? Tell him to open the gate.” “Airon is a god,” the lean man said. “The sun god. Chief among the spirit guides of the island. It is his power, and his magic, that created the gate and it only opens when he wills it.” “Say a prayer. Burn some damn incense! Get him to open the gate.” “He won’t, Princess,” the priest said. “He wants you here. We need you here.” She pulled her other hand free and scrubbed both hands over her face. “Okay, fine, I can’t get home that way. Any other options?” “None,” the priest said. “Fine, fine. When the acid or whatever this is wears off, I’ll wake up in a puddle of my own drool and the girls and I will laugh about this over a pint this weekend. Until then, can I get something to eat? And can someone tell me what’s going on?” “We have food right over here,” Kaelen said, reaching for her arm again. He guided her away from Devin and over to the campfire. The priest gave Devin a quick bow. “My thanks. I know you’re not a healer but I’m glad you were here to help her.” “Sure,” Devin said, his eyes on the princess. “Anything I can do to serve her.”
Against Devin’s better judgement they camped in front of the gate that night. Waiting for Mallory to wake up had taken up the better part of their afternoon and it would take several hours to get the small boats back to shore. “It will be safer on shore,” Devin insisted. He’d been patrolling through the trees on and off all evening. “There’s something not right here, something is coming, I can feel it.” “We might be safer on shore,” the eldest priest, Honourable Bernard, conceded, “But we’d be vulnerable in the open water. You’re one of the Animal People. You know how many fishermen are lost to the Dark Spirits each season. We’ll be safe here in the clearing. This is a sacred space, a space built by Airon himself at the time of the pact.” “Maybe,” Devin said. “But I don’t think Airon is here right now. I think his presence left when that gate closed.” Still, Devin knew the risks of being on the open water at night. They’d have no room to maneuver in a fight in those little boats, and the channel was too shallow here for one of the larger trade ships. With the sun settling lower on the western horizon they had no choice but to wait for morning. Mallory was seated by the fire right next to Kaelen. Devin didn’t care for the Metalkin man and it went beyond provincial bickering. He’d lived and worked in Golden Hall all of his adult years and found the majority of people there to be decent folk. This Kaelen on the other hand was turning out to be arrogant at the very least. It’s only for a few more days. When you return to Golden Hall your chances of seeing him again are slim. For now, there are more important things to think about than hot-headed nobles. Quietly Devin made the rounds to all of the guards. Half of them were from Metalkin, half were from the Sun Temple, all were armed with the special blades, blessed by Airon to kill the Dark Spirits. “Be wary tonight,” he told each of them. “We’ll double the guard and sleep lightly.” He could tell by the way they nodded and the tension in their jaws and shoulders that they all felt it too. They were no longer welcome here.
Mallory sat on a log stool by the fire with a wool blanket over her shoulders. Kaelen handed her a wooden bowl filled with a thick stew. At least she thought it was stew. It was very greasy and the meat was cut in rough chunks. “I’m sorry, we had to travel light.” She gave him a puzzled look. “The bowl. You’re the Metalkin Princess, you deserve better than a common wooden bowl.” “Right now, I’m just grateful for food and warmth,” she said. “If I wake up here in the morning and I really am stuck here, I’ll try to figure the rest out then.” She took a bite of the food and found it more flavourful than she expected. It didn’t compare to curry, but it was still good. Honourable Bertrand came over and sat on the other side of her. “We’ve decided to stay here tonight and sail back to the Metalkin coast in the morning.” “It’s not that dark yet,” Mallory said. “How far is it to the coast?” “Not far,” the priest said. “A few hours from here to the boats, and a few hours on the water.” “We can’t make it tonight?” Mallory said. “I don’t know if I want to stay here.” “We never travel this close to dark,” the priest said somberly. “Too much risk?” “Bears? Wolves?” “Dark spirits.” A short burst of a laugh escaped her, but she stifled it when she noted the absolute seriousness of the man’s face. Whatever these dark spirits were, this man believed in them completely, and believed them to be a very real threat. Apparently, superstition goes hand-in-hand with swords and strange religions. What did you expect, Mallory? Come on. “We’ll do what you think is best,” Kaelen said. “I’ll have them set up the extra tent for Princess Jewel Rose.” “Thank-you,” Kaelen said. Mallory just groaned. She’d been camping once, at nineteen, with a bunch of friends, and it was one of the worst experiences of her life. And they probably don’t have insulated sleeping bags either. At least there are no mosquitos or anything. “If we’re staying here tonight then I guess I’ll turn in as soon as I’m done eating. Uh … where can I use the washroom?” “What do you need washed?” He sounds like a bad joke. She sighed. “Bathroom? You know, when I need to pee?” “Ah. Well …” He actually blushed. Most men when they blushed looked adorable, or vulnerable, but Kaelen just looked silly, his rosy cheeks peeking out from behind the thick black beard. “Hunter!” he hollered. The lean man looked over, scowled, and approached them. “You know full well that’s not my name.” “Princess Ashlyn requires a latrine.” “Come with me, I’ll show you the way.” When Kaelen stood too he said, “I think one strange male while she’s taking care of something so private is more than enough, don’t you?” “You think I’m leaving her alone with you?” “I’m surrounded by guards.” “I’m capable of peeing without supervision,” Mallory said. “And can we please stop it with the whole ‘Ashlyn’ thing. I have no clue who Ashlyn is.” “If you wanted to escort her, you wouldn’t have called for me,” he said. Kaelen huffed and sat back down. “Fine.” He crossed his arms. “I’ll wait here.” “Why thank-you, that’s so considerate.” He lightly touched Mallory’s elbow. “This way.” “If your name isn’t Hunter, what is it?” Mallory said as they walked towards the trees. “Devin Sun-Stag. I’m a hunter and tracker employed by the royal court in the Metalkin province. I’m here as a guide.” “And why is Kaelen here?” “Because his family is rich. Here. It isn’t much but you’re the only woman on this trip so we didn’t actually thing of this.” ‘Isn’t much’ was being generous. It was a shallow, stinking hole in the ground with a log suspended over it like a skinny little bench. “I’ll wait here. With my back turned,” he said. “Just, don’t take too long. I don’t like being in the trees, even a little bit, this close to dark.” “Right,” Mallory muttered. “Dark spirits or boogey men or whatever.” She took a deep breath and approached the makeshift bathroom. This is even worse than the last time I was camping. She returned to the fire where Devin left her with Kaelen. When her bowl was empty Kaelen led her to a tent that was little more than a thin panel of leather draped over a pole and tacked firmly to the ground. Inside was a leather sleeping roll, lined with something soft and surprisingly warm. She bundled the wool blanket up to make a meager pillow and closed her eyes. Her last thought before sleep took her was, On second thought I’m never telling anyone about this bad trip.