Poisonwell (Whispers from Mirrowen #3)

One last time, Annon turned and stared at Nizeera’s crumpled form, his soul grieving with the loss. Tears burned his eyes, blurring the image. He felt someone’s hand grip his cloak. Someone patted his arm. Annon hung his head, knowing he was bereft of protection now.

With a whirl, the magic of the Tay al-Ard wrenched them away from the danger approaching in the waters.





“We are thunderstruck by the size of the Boeotian army. They have claimed the quays on the northwest edge of the lake and have begun to set up a siege of some kind. What they hope to accomplish is entirely uncertain. Strange tents made of animal hides surround the shores. The Bhikhu from Silvandom began to arrive immediately, but it will take some time to gather them in from the vast woodland realm they have protected. The citizenry are fearful but brave. We have faced these threats many times in the past.”


- Possidius Adeodat, Archivist of Kenatos





XVIII


It took several moments for Phae to gather her senses after the Tay al-Ard spilled them back to the earth. The night was deep and foreboding, thick with clinging shadows. The hulking massive trees formed wedges to box them in, offering only a little bit of light, faint silver threads from a waning moon.

“Where are we?” Kiranrao demanded.

“Be silent!” Tyrus snarled at the Romani. He shook off their grasping hands and strode a few paces away, before whirling and facing them again. His face was nearly lost in shadows, but Phae could sense the tumultuous anger seething from his cowl. His hands glowed faintly, and she could tell it was taking great effort to rein in his fury.

The trauma from the Weir attack still raged in her heart. Despite all her imaginings, they were more terrifying than she had supposed. Thickset yet fast as quicksilver, cunningly intelligent and near invisible until they launched to tear your throat out. She shuddered at the memory, feeling her hands tingle with the fireblood she had summoned to defend herself. As she gazed around at the others, she saw that all were wounded in some manner—except Shion.

“Our attempt at unity is a complete and total failure,” Tyrus said in a low growl, his voice betraying thick impatience and smoldering venom. “Annon, I nearly left you behind to face that demon in the pond all on your own. The torc drew it right to us and if we had not fled, probably half of us would have died back there.”

Annon looked ashamed. “I could not hear, Tyrus. I was half-drowned—”

“I knew it was risky bringing you with us,” he interrupted savagely. “If Nizeera hadn’t died for you, you would have fallen for certain. You must fight, Annon! You must use your wits and your will. These are not human creations, with feelings and hesitancy. They are beasts born of ancient magic, and they are hunters. They are hunting us even now. You should have come when I called you!”

Phae quailed at the tone of her father’s voice and she saw Annon’s shoulder slump with dejection. She had never seen Tyrus this angry, this uncontrolled. Fear flooded inside her, witnessing this darker side of her father.

Tyrus took a step closer, his finger firmly pointing at Annon’s chest, as if it were some spear ready to impale him. “The next time I will leave you behind. We don’t have time for weakness.”

Annon bowed his head, shuddering but silent. He nodded submissively.

Tyrus turned his fury on Hettie next. “And what was your excuse, Hettie? I warned you all we face certain death in this place. You left the circle to save him. I thought you were wiser than that.”

Hettie would not take the chiding quietly. Her chin lifted, her eyes blazing in the dark. “He couldn’t hear you, Tyrus. You feared he was lost in the fireblood, but he wasn’t. He just couldn’t hear!”

“That’s his excuse. What is yours? Come, a pithy Romani proverb would be perfect.”

Hettie took a step forward. “He’s my brother. What better excuse is there? I don’t regret it.”

“Weak,” Tyrus said coldly. “Pathetic. Look at us. Bleeding. Poisoned by the dust of those beasts. But if we do not act as one, if we do not fight under orders, this land will rip us apart, one by one. Only the strongest will survive.”

Phae knew he was going to rip into her as well and she shrank thinking of the lashing she’d get. Her knees started to tremble uncontrollably. Her mouth was as dry as the deserts of Boeotia. She would be a slave for a drink of water. Her insides were full of twisting worms, and she nearly flinched when he barked at her next.

“You, Phae, are the linchpin. You are the key we cannot lose. I know you feared I would leave them behind, but you knew . . . yes, you knew that I could not leave you behind. That makes your betrayal even worse than the others. You cannot do that again. You must stay near Shion and myself. We must all be willing to give our lives to protect you, because without you, we cannot succeed. Even if we all die, you must be willing to go on. There is no other choice. There is no other way. There is no other hope. You must obey me, child. We risk all because of you.”