The Scrivener's Tale #2

THIRTY-SEVEN

Ham whispered across the private link to his brothers, relief evident in his voice. He’s back in his ethereal form.
The demon was still slightly stupefied from the transference. He groaned from where he crouched and Cassien, waiting in the shadow of the trees, was intrigued that he took the form of a man.
But he wasn’t ready for the familiar face or voice when the demon looked up.
‘So this is the Wild?’ he murmured in Fynch’s voice.
It was shock enough that Cassien, who had been stepping forward, shrank back. Fynch! How could it be? His mind raced. Fynch was the demon? Surely they hadn’t all been duped. Why?
Cassien! It was Ham. It’s not Fynch.
I … he hesitated.
Gabe’s mellow voice joined Ham’s. Brother, listen now. If it were Fynch he would know where he was. He would not have said, ‘So this is the Wild.’ He’s just adopted a form.
But why walk as Fynch? Cassien demanded, his ethereal heart pounding. He doesn’t know him.
Cass, there’s no time for this, Ham urged. Think of your body.
Ham, you don’t understand, Cassien said. He didn’t want to say anything about Fynch being their father, but how could he explain to his brother how confronting it was to know in the next moments he was going to attempt to kill this man who walked as Fynch.
I understand this. Your body is cooling fast. We have Cyricus where we need him to be. You know what you have to do. He’s Cyricus, just tell yourself that. I suspect, Ham began, thinking hard, it’s an echo. He’s adopted the form of someone the forest knows well and whose paths he has oft trod.
Cassien couldn’t tell whether Ham was just placating him, but the concept of the echo resonated with him, felt right, and Gabe’s point about the man’s easy belief that this was the Wild did reassure him.
Fynch looked around. ‘Well, come on, Myrren, where are you? Show yourself, girl! We can have a little fun together. It’s been a long time since I’ve squeezed a bright, firm, young —’ He stopped, looking thunderstruck.
He doesn’t recognise me, Cassien said. It’s not Fynch.
Keep telling yourself that, Gabe whispered across their link. Hurry, Cassien. I don’t know how long I can maintain the forest.
Cassien took a breath and stepped out from beneath the low-hanging branches.
‘Myrr—’ Cyricus stopped. ‘You! It can’t be. Cassien, the Queen’s champion?’
‘I am your destroyer, Cyricus.’
The demon sighed. ‘And Myrren?’
‘Dead, burned as the witch she was.’
Fynch’s expression changed from bemused to sombre to frowning, and Cassien could feel the rage building.
‘I was tricked?’
Cassien nodded. ‘Twice now. This time in a brilliant ploy by the lad. His name is Hamelyn, I don’t know if you recall. He’s my brother.’
‘I knew I recognised him,’ Cyricus said, shaking his head. ‘I just didn’t pay enough attention; although, in my defence, Wentzl was dying at the time. And his ploy about Myrren sounded so plausible. Yes, I remember now, the wretched messenger boy who came with Tamas into Darcelle’s chamber.’
‘Very good.’
Fynch spun around. ‘This isn’t the Wild?’
Cassien laughed. ‘You’re about as far away from the Wild as we could bring you, Cyricus. Welcome back to the Void.’
Fynch’s face darkened, all humour fled. An animal-like growl sounded distantly and it took Cassien a moment to realise that it wasn’t some creature bearing down upon them but that the noise was coming from the small man who replicated his father. Fynch began to tremble, and then he began to shake uncontrollably; the whole time a roar was gathering, growing in intensity around him.
Any ideas? Cassien threw at his brothers. Can you sever the forest illusion, Gabe?
I’d leave you stranded where you are. Your body with Ham, your spirit in the Void. So no, that’s not an option.
Cassien watched in bleak horror as Cyricus suddenly reached up to his head and, as though he were peeling the skin off a ripe, juicy finula, tore away the flesh that encased him. Unfolding out of the dark space within was a monstrous, forbidding shape. It was huge, troll-like, with a head as big as a boulder and a body that looked far too large, making that massive head appear like a pebble on a cliff top. The hirsute body shifted and blotted out the pretend light that was dappling through the pretend trees of Gabe’s creation.
Cyricus stood to his full height and cast aside the shell of Fynch like an empty husk. It looked tiny and pathetic by comparison with the creature that stood before him.
The voice belonged to the same, sly Cyricus that he knew.
‘Well, Cassien, brother of clever Hamelyn and no doubt brother also to Gabriel, it appears to me that I shall have to take out my rage on you.’
Cassien drew his sword and for the first time he heard its voice. It was female and she screamed her joy at being drawn in the Void and her fury at who stood before her. ‘The sword knows you, Cyricus.’
‘Knows me? Could I care any less, brave Cassien? Do you really believe a blade frightens me? You can smite me a hundred times and I won’t feel it.’ And the troll-like creature leapt.
Cassien swiftly retreated behind the trees. He could hear Cyricus laughing. Cassien dodged one way and then spun back the other. He thought he’d given himself enough clearance, but he underestimated again how swiftly the demon could move. He felt a vice-like grip and he was thrown into the air. Then his training took over and he twisted to land lightly before rolling, never letting go of his sword, which was now singing, and he could hear her beautiful voice.
The boldly drawn face of Cyricus, with its heavy brow and pouting lips, formed a frown. He hadn’t expected Cassien to be so acrobatic. ‘Tell your blade to stop its incessant song so we can focus on killing one another.’
‘Are you finding it annoying?’ Cassien taunted. ‘Wait until it cuts you.’
‘I could take a thousand cuts from that needle and barely feel a sting,’ Cyricus retorted.
Cassien leapt forward, but the troll was ready for him and swept a hand in a big arc. The connecting fist felt like a tree hitting him and Cassien was punched back. He felt bones splinter somewhere as he broke his fall and he registered the annoyance of pain but didn’t so much as pause. He was back on his feet.
‘You are tough, Cassien.’
‘I told you. I am here to destroy you. If it requires my final breath, I’ll give it.’
Cyricus exploded with laughter before bearing down on Cassien, but Cassien was quicker to react this time, rolling beneath the clubbing fist. He was behind the troll within a heartbeat and, holding the hilt of the sword like a spear, he plunged the blade into the creature’s great calf muscle.
Cyricus roared with pain.
Cassien. End it. Your body … it just convulsed. Ham’s worried voice pressed into his mind.
This had happened the first time he’d roamed, he was sure. He had trembled for days afterwards. Romaine had nearly attacked him she had been so angry with him. He’d promised her he would never push to such a limit again, and he hadn’t … until now.
‘Ooh, that hurt me, little mortal,’ Cyricus jeered.
Cassien noticed that although the wound barely bled because the creature’s hide was so tough, there was a distinct blue-black welt snaking its way up the demon’s leg, like a trace of poison. Cyricus was unaware and thought of it as barely more than a scratch, it seemed.
He couldn’t follow the thought and should not have hesitated as he had. Cyricus flung him again and this time Cassien couldn’t break his fall as well as he had on the previous occasion. He found himself wrapped around a tree, ribs smashed, coughing up blood.
‘That’s real blood. The Void doesn’t spare us,’ Cyricus sneered. ‘You are certainly courageous. Not so much as a groan of pain. What are you?’
‘I’m your destroyer, Cyricus,’ Cassien said again, ignoring the immense pain as he hauled himself slowly back to his feet. He had not let go of the sword and he leaned on it now.
Cyricus laughed mirthlessly. ‘Yes, you look like you could really hurt me, mortal. What is in your mind to make you think to hunt me?’
‘It’s not me who hunts you, demon. I’m merely the one who will deliver your death blow,’ Cassien said, through halting breaths.
‘Really? Who hunts me?’ Cyricus asked, sounding genuinely intrigued.
‘Fynch, Keeper of the Wild, will rejoice in your destruction.’
‘The keeper,’ Cyricus repeated and his voice had taken on a dead tone.
Cassien. It was Gabe. Ham is panicked. Florentyna is weeping. Please, brother, come back now. Leave it. We will watch him in the Void. He can’t escape us. Whatever he’s doing to you there is happening to your body in our plane. I didn’t know that would occur. He is killing you. Maybe I should change you back to the spirit.
No! Then I can’t hold this sword. Let me be, Gabe. I let you be at the cathedral when you knew it was the right decision. I’m going to finish this, Cassien sent back over the link. I can make it.
He heard the hesitation.
Ham’s voice came into his mind. He sounded as though he too was weeping. Please, Cassien. Please.
Be strong, little brother. My turn to be the hero.
Cassien snapped off the link, realising that Cyricus had him again and there was nothing gentle about the way the troll was handling him, rolling his body between his fingers as though he were preparing fingen weed to smoke. He grimaced with the agony, but let out no sound.
‘Impressive, Cassien. How do you bear it as I shatter your tiny skeleton?’
He could hardly speak and knew time was short. His body would let him down, but not before he finished what his father had charged him to do, what in his life of loneliness — albeit in ignorance — he had been raised for.
He pretended to whisper.
‘I can’t hear you,’ Cyricus teased. ‘The fun’s gone out of you, Cassien. You’re dying. That’s the sad thing about mortals. You die. But you see, we demons, we live on. I found my way out of this forsaken place once before, I’ll do so again. I hope the forest remains for eternity.’
‘It will be gone the moment I am,’ Cassien choked out.
‘What are you saying? I didn’t quite catch that?’ Cyricus taunted, holding Cassien’s limp, broken body in a curled fist close to his ear.
It was his one chance. Cassien summoned every ounce of his remaining strength and more, from reserves he didn’t know he possessed. In a fearless, killing arc he swung himself up and forward, using the motion to swing Wevyr’s sword around over his head and plunge it into the cheek of Cyricus, where it stuck like a needle embedded in the face of the giant, demonic creature.
Cyricus flinched angrily and flung his attacker down, this time succeeding in breaking Cassien’s back as easily as if he’d snapped a twig.
Gabe, Cassien struggled to whisper, ignoring the pain that passed quickly into a numb sensation; he was sure that life was nevertheless draining from him. It is done. Release me, I beg you … let me go. Let me float free and painless. His brother heard and in a blink he was free of his body and mortal sensation. Thank you … I’m sorry I did not know you. He rose helplessly, invisible, cast weightlessly adrift. He would have one more pleasure before all that he knew winked out of existence.
‘Cassien … oh, mortal,’ he could hear Cyricus saying in between his laughter. ‘Your “death blow” is like a pinprick!’
Cassien hovered close to the ear of Cyricus. ‘That’s the dragon sword, Cyricus.’ The demon swung around, swatted at the mist he alone could see.
‘Dragon sword?’
‘Forged in magic, demon. Magic more ancient and powerful than you.’
Cyricus frowned. The words were having their effect and so was the wound. Cassien could see the telltale path of the poison creeping across the demon’s ugly face. If he could have smiled in his ethereal form he would have.
‘The sword was made with the ancient blood of a dragon and the ancient blood of a king. That blood is in you now, Cyricus. It is the blood of Fynch, Keeper of the Wild, and his magic will do the killing. I merely brought the death blow as I promised.’
Cyricus began to scream. There was no doubt he understood what the blood of the dragon king and especially the magic of the Wild meant.
‘I hope you die very painfully, Cyricus. This time the Wild has rid every world of you.’
The poison was working swiftly now. Cyricus was making gasping, choking noises, leaning against a tree. Cassien smiled as the demon creature slumped to his knees.
‘As well you might bow your head to the power of the dragon and the Wild,’ he whispered for the last time into the ear of Cyricus, and then Cassien of the forest, son of Fynch, let go of everything that mattered except a final whisper to his elder brother.
Kiss Ham for me … and go visit that woman I told you about, Gabe. Her name is Vivienne. You will like her. I’m going to look at the forest light one more time and then I want you to tear down your creation. I want Cyricus to take his last breath looking into the Void.
Cassien lifted his spirit’s gaze and in that last sweep revelled in the light filtering through leaves, the shadows and the colour green against the rough bark of the trees, and the soft browns and greys of leaf litter.
Farewell, Romaine. I have known the love of a mother through you … and I thank you.
The Void absorbed Cassien as he died, while Cyricus wheezed his last breath, poisoned with the proud blood of the dragon king, and the demon winked out of existence.
Ham. He’s gone. He said it is done. And that he loves you, Gabe said across the link to his younger brother.
At Rittylworth Monastery, the small frame of Hamelyn shuddered in the arms of Florentyna, who wept with him, while Tamas cradled Cassien’s previously convulsing body against his chest. Now it lay slumped and lifeless against the king, who glanced at Florentyna and shook his head.
‘The demon is destroyed,’ Ham said, sounding choked.
She sniffed, gathered her emotions up. ‘Ham, he’s peaceful now.’
The boy gulped. ‘That’s because he’s dead, your majesty.’
‘I know,’ she soothed. ‘He was heroic.’
‘He shouldn’t have stayed there.’
‘I wish I understood everything that has happened this day and where Cassien had to go,’ Tamas admitted. ‘All I know is that his name will never be forgotten by the Morgravians … or the Cipreans.’
‘He saved our world,’ Hamelyn sobbed.
‘The three of you did,’ Florentyna said. She hugged the boy closer and kissed his soft sandy-coloured hair.
‘I’m taking his body to the Great Forest. It is where he would want to remain.’
‘We will help you,’ Tamas said. ‘Come. We shall take him today and honour him.’ He stood, offered his hand to Florentyna and then helped Ham to rise.
The boy wiped his eyes, sniffing. ‘We need Gabe to be there too.’
‘I agree,’ said Florentyna. Can you reach him, Ham?’ The boy nodded. ‘Then I will help Brother Hoolyn prepare Cassien for his journey. Would that be all right?’
‘You, your majesty?’
She smiled sorrowfully at him. ‘It would be a true honour. He is a proud son of Morgravia. And I have lost too many of those in too short a time. The empire is in mourning.’