“But how did you know where to go?” Maia asked, grabbing his wrist and holding tight.
He smiled. “We were at Muirwood, lass. Do you know how many Aldermastons are there right now? By Cheshu, one from each kingdom, at the least!” He sighed and rested a bit, his green eyes roaming the ruins around them. “Go to the lost abbey, they said. And so I did. You left a trail easy to follow, I warrant you.” He sighed, his eyelids drooping.
Maia looked up and saw the sun fading quickly. As she stared at it, feeling gratitude and concern for her friend, she noticed someone approaching from the abbey ruins above. An older man with a long, gnarled stick poked his way down the path at a breakneck pace. She recognized him instantly.
“Maderos,” she whispered in surprise.
“What?” Jon Tayt muttered. He tried to lift his head and failed. Maia cradled his head in her lap, watching as the crooked-legged man made his way toward them.
Maderos was fat around the middle, his dark wiry hair silvered with gray. He paused to rest for a moment on the gnarled staff. His tunic was spattered with dirt and dust, and she could see the gleam of the chaen from his collar.
Jon Tayt’s eyes closed, his head drooping.
“Jon!” Maia begged with concern, clutching his shirt to shake him.
“Let him rest, little sister,” Maderos crooned with a wry smile. “He has not slept in many days, and he suffers a grievous wound.”
Maia bit her lip as she watched the steady rise and fall of the hunter’s chest. She stroked his chest and plucked a piece of bark from his tangled beard. In a moment, he started to snore, and the sound brought a wash of relief through her.
“Will he live?” Maia asked the wayfarer.
Maderos lifted his eyebrows. “I write the words after they happen, sister. Not before. Time heals. We shall see. But Muirwood needs you now. You must leave.”
Maia stared at the bearded face, agonizing over the thought of leaving him so injured. But she felt the Medium’s will clanging in her skull like a bell. She gently set Jon Tayt’s head down on the heath. She stroked the copper curls off his damp forehead, feeling such deep tenderness for her friend. She had lost Argus. The thought of losing Jon Tayt too tortured her. It was painful leaving him.
“Come,” Maderos offered, holding out his hand. “It is time.”
She looked at the sinking sun again, watching as it descended toward the horizon. “Is there time, Maderos?” she asked. “Something terrible will happen at sunset. The Medium has been warning me of it.”
“Yes, little sister. We must hurry. Hold my arm.” He offered his elbow to her and led her back up the hill toward the ruins, his other hand wielding his staff. Instead of taking her toward the black gap of the hetaera’s lair, he walked along to the left. They passed broken pillars and moldering stone. A few birds called down from the branches, the only witnesses of their presence in the woods. She glanced back one last time to the fallen bodies of the hunter and the kishion.
Maia had wandered the grounds on her first visit with the kishion, but she did not remember this area. A few toppled columns had fallen into each other. As she approached, she felt the presence of a Leering. She recognized it from earlier—it was the one that was causing the curse on the land. It was a Blight Leering. Maderos took her to it, crossing a broken archway that no longer supported anything.
The Blight Leering was a massive boulder surrounded by crumbling fragments of stone. The face on the Leering was so worn by time that she could not determine if it was a man or a woman. The boulder was smooth, almost polished. She felt power radiating from it, summoning the sickness and poisons that scarred the cursed shores. It brought the wolf spiders, the ticks, the venomous serpents. It created a haven that the Fear Liath was happy to call home. Power had been emanating from it for centuries, destroying the land bit by bit.
She felt the urge to touch it.
Maia reached forth her hand, but Maderos stopped her.
“You can silence it, child,” he said respectfully, blocking her hand. “But do not touch it. The Blight is not what you must unleash upon the Naestors.” He extended the staff and gestured to the ruins. “You must rebuild this abbey and safeguard these Leerings. End the Blight on this land. It will become an inheritance for those you trust. Those from Assinica and other lands who wish to stay here.”