Valdemar had personally cut out his former captor's tongue and blinded him with a branding iron. From that point on the ex-king was trained to play the harp. His once clumsy fingers now soared across the strings with the skill of a master harpist. He would play until his fingers bled. Agonizing experience had taught him the folly of doing otherwise. Strangely enough, Valdemar had forgotten the man's name.
He raised his chalice in mock salute. Better to die in glory than to live as a forgotten slave. Marcellus Admorran was fortunate. His execution would be one for the ages.
And with his death, the storm will break. Deis has favored me with this victory. The war that I have been longing for has finally arrived.
Valdemar smiled as he savored the wine's robust flavor, viewing his city from the window. The shadow of the castle slowly smothered the buildings and streets, casting its darkness like gathering clouds.
Chapter 11: Nyori
Nyori had fallen asleep in darkness, cold and alone in the great abandoned temple. She awoke to the same surroundings, but in place of decaying and crumbling stones, grand and lofty marble pillars gleamed as if just erected. Instead of the gloom of darkness, she basked in the light as though the sun visited within the walls and painted them burnished gold. The cracked and pitted flagstones that she had slept on transformed into intricately embossed glazed tiles.
Autumn leaves drifted across the floor, impossibly slow.
Her heart pounded as she slowly stood. Impossible as it seemed, somehow she must have unconsciously Shifted to her Inner mind and returned to Everfell. Drifted to a time where the temple had never fallen, had never been abandoned by the Aelon hands that created it.
A flicker of movement caught her eye.
An enormous lion padded ghostlike past the pillars. It turned its massive head to gaze at Nyori with serene eyes. Nyori knew she should have been scared witless, but somehow she knew it would not harm her. The lion gave a small shake of its shaggy head. Sparkling motes lifted, golden stardust that hung in the air as the lion turned and went deeper into the temple. Nyori was sure it wanted her to follow as if it had spoken. It was an easy decision. She had been alone for hours, and even a silent animal was a better choice of company than the more of the same.
When she turned and entered the rounded chamber, she gasped aloud. It was not the intricacies of the scrollwork that covered the walls, nor the complimentary stained-glass windows that blushed in multihued glimmers. A figure sat in a high-backed stonewood chair on a dais in the center of the room. Nyori immediately recognized the woman who sat at his feet.
Mistress Ayna.
A beam of light shone down upon them from an aperture in the high ceiling, creating a scene so fragile it seemed that it would dissipate at the slightest stirring of a breeze. The lion climbed the short steps and sat on the opposite side of Ayna. Woman and beast gazed at Nyori with identical eyes.
"Welcome, Nyori of Halladen." The man's voice carried the wind in its notes, and his irises were deep and black, the color of the night sky if every star winked out of existence. "It has been long since any have walked the halls of Asfrior."
She could not tell if he was young or old. His soft blue and gold tunic was simple, which only served to contrast his splendor. His shoulder-length hair glinted like threads of golden silk in sunlight. The structure of his face was delicate yet strong, and his skin glimmered almost metallically. She did not have to ask if he was an Aelon. She could not if she had tried; her mouth was a dusty, abandoned well. She respectfully knelt with downcast eyes to cover her muteness, surprised the flagstones did not shatter from the reverberations of her wildly beating heart.
The Aelon spoke gently. "Do not be afraid. I have drawn you away from your sleeping form, and you will return to it unharmed. My name has not been spoken in many ages, but men have called me Riodran in times past, so it suits me to keep that name now. My friend here," he indicated the lion, "is Kusagra. Among the Aelon I am a voroar—a warden. My wards include the Sha among others. Few and gifted are those who make their way here. You are not yet ready, but yours is a special case, my young Shama."
"Why?" She did not mean to speak, but the words poured out her throat before she could help it. "Nando and Ironhide — they died because they tried to protect me. If I hadn't gone into Everfell, this never would have happened." Her voice was thick from the thoughts of her fallen protectors, her eyes blurred with tears. "If this was a test, my failure cost them their lives."
Mistress Ayna's eyes glimmered with sympathy. "Nyori. You must not blame yourself for what happened. It was not your fault."
"It was ours." Riodran's voice tolled like a bell of mourning. "When we left your world, it was necessary to remove as much traces of our presence as possible, reducing our influence to only legend and fable in your memories. Much of your past was lost because of that act. Perhaps that was an even greater crime than exposing you to our presence."
His eyes became inky wells of melancholy. "We left the Eye for the few with the talent and desire to discover the truth and might learn from the mistakes we made." His head lowered, the chamber filled with his sigh. "Yet we did not foresee that the Eye could be used against you. Someone manipulated its energies to transfer you physically into Everfell. The fusorbs were hidden from your world for a reason. It was not our will that you reclaimed Eymunder."
"Someone? If it was not you, then—?"
"The identity of the individual remains to be discovered." Riodran stood. A thin line creased the center of his forehead, the only evidence of his consternation. "I have my suspicions, but until they are made evident, I cannot share them just yet." His obsidian eyes swept the hall before settling on her. "The only secret is the one unspoken. There are eyes and ears everywhere."
She shivered from the fear that rippled through her. "There is no safety anywhere, is there?"
Emotion abandoned his voice when he answered. "No. No longer. Your world is shrouded now; a curtain of shadow cloaks its future. We can only offer counsel, for our return is forbidden, even in the face of this threat. The security of a human world lies in human hands, no matter how we may wish otherwise."
Nyori wanted to protest, but it was all she could do to stand before Riodran and not tremble. The stories could not describe the feeling of inadequacy that she felt, like a fleck of sand placed beside a glittering diamond. But he loved her anyway. She could tell when he smiled. "And now, Nyori Sharlin of the Northern Steppes, what can I do for you?"
"Tell me what I need to do." She wet her lips nervously. "Please. I am alone here, and the akhkharu wait for me outside the doors."
"They cannot. Asfrior has more safeguards than Banestone, and those that hunt you will have turned away by now if they still live."
"You will have to make your way back to the Steppes," Ayna said. "I have friends that are searching for you even as we speak. If they don't find you first, you must make your way to the closest caste of Mandru. Any will aid a Sha in need. I know it will be difficult, but you can do it, Nyori. Remember that we trained you in more than just academics. You know how to live off the land and survive until help arrives. Trust your instincts; you will be fine."
Riodran sat on the steps in between Kusagra and Ayna, who appeared diminutive next to the tall, willowy Aelon. He raised his eyes to Nyori. "You have other questions, I know. Make them swift, for you cannot remain long."