Shadows of the Realm (The Circle of Talia) (27 page)

Avruellen halted her horse inside the low wall, which was little more than a boundary marking—too low to offer any protection from enemies. She gazed out to sea, and in the fading light white foam could be seen capping the distant waves. The howling wind tore at her hair and blew dirt in her eyes. A direct southerly blew the moderate swell into the bay. One large and one small ship were anchored a short distance from the wharves. If they had tied up to the dock, the waves would have smashed them to pieces before the cargo was unloaded. It looked as if Avruellen would have to wait for calmer seas before she undertook the journey to Dead Man
’s Isle.

She sent to Flux.
Seas are too rough. I’ll wait a couple of days and see if the wind abates. In the meantime I’m going to find the most luxurious inn I can.

But our task is urgent
.

I
know, but no sailor would voluntarily set out in this weather, especially if the storm is building.

I
’ll check back with you tomorrow.

OK Flux. Goodnight.

Goodnight Av
.

Avruellen found the best of the four inns the town had to offer; an imposing three-level stone building with a meticulously trimmed, silver-leafed hedge that hugged the front verandah, protecting it from strong sea breezes. A robust, bright pink flowering plant hung in numerous pots from the verandah ceiling. She wasn
’t too surprised to find such a well looked after establishment because, although the town was small, many merchants came here to check on, or collect, their imported goods—and they were finicky about their accommodation.

After a hot dinner of roast vegetables and bread with butter, she bathed in a luxuriously deep tub, fragrant petals bobbing on the surface of the steaming water. Avruellen always carried sweet-smelling bath additives—just in case an opportunity, such as this, presented itself. She soaked until the water became too cold to be comfortable, her skin soft and prune-like.

The relaxing evening was just what Avruellen needed. As usual she checked that the sheets were clean before she slid into them because some people had a different idea of what that was than she did. Tonight the bed was acceptable and very comfortable. She snuggled down until the covers settled softly under her nose. 

So many sad and stressful things that had happened lately. Behind closed eyes she conjured up the image of Bronwyn sleeping peacefully, surprisingly protected by the large beast that had taken her. Avruellen held onto that happy thought as she drifted to sleep between crisp sheets.

She dreamed again. In this dream, which felt so real, her perspective was from the corner of the living area of a weathered cottage. She had no idea where the cottage was, although she could hear a fierce wind screaming outside. As her eyes adjusted to the dim candlelight she smelled smoke from a newly extinguished fire. For a brief moment she was comforted by its similarity to the life she had recently left.

Abruptly, through the smoke, came the sweet and metallic odour of fresh blood. How was it she could smell in a dream? Avruellen quickly understood this was not a normal dream; it was a nightmare, and it was real, somewhere.

An overturned chair lay next to a smashed dining table. A half-eaten dinner sprawled over the floor lay mashed amongst sharp pieces of broken porcelain. Amidst the ruins, in the heart of a once-welcoming home, lay the unfortunate occupant. Avruellen’s dream eyes widened. A young woman, aged thirty or so, was lodged between the broken table and what could only be described as an horrific monstrosity. Her head leaned back, once-beautiful green eyes gaping at nothing. Death had not come quickly. They say the face acquires a peaceful look in death; Avruellen assumed whoever started that rumor had never seen anyone die this way.

She wanted to look away, to flee back to her body, to wake up, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the hideous sight. A small, unblemished child
’s hand gripped the dead woman’s pale shoulder. There shouldn’t have been long, sharp talons protruding from the once innocent fingers, the spikes sunk deep into cooling flesh.  The boy’s arms looked thicker than they should have been whilst his torso retained its prepubescent skinniness, ribs and spine protruding through unusually translucent, pallid, green skin. Avruellen shook her head at the short, scaly tail that protruded a few inches from the base of the naked boy’s spine.

The realmist gagged when she heard the slurping and crunching of human meat. The boy’s face was buried in the still-warm belly, teeth exhuming entrails as he ate his way through to the spine. The victim’s blood spattered the boy
’s skin, which had developed into an unnatural, slimy membrane, allowing blue veins to show through. Layers of old, brown and new, red blood crusted the boy’s formerly-pale hair. Realisation of what this boy was becoming hit Avruellen as surely as if she had been run through with a jagged blade. 

Irving
’s head rose from its abhorrent meal, vertebra clicking one by one with the movement. Avruellen shuddered. As Irving’s green, malignant eyes met Avruellen’s, she knew with an absolutely terrified certainty that she was the only person alive today who had ever seen a Gormon. It took all her effort, but she fled the horror, to return to her now-sweaty body, tangled in sheets that had lost their crispness.

Avruellen sat up, breathing heavily. She wiped her nose with the back of a shaking hand, but the sickly smell of death lingered as if to remind her of the reality they all must face. She desperately wanted another bath. Her breathing was too fast and shallow. Feeling light headed, she forced herself to take deep breaths.
Flux? Flux, are you there?

Yes. You
’re interrupting my dinner. They breed rabbits fat around here.

I
’m afraid something terrible’s happened.
The tone of her mind voice grabbed Flux’s attention; he dreaded what she would say next.

I had a
dream. The emphasis on the word “dream” let Flux know it was a reality dream.
I saw a Gormon
. 

She couldn’t believe she was saying those words. The only words the fox feared.
Are you sure?

I
’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. It was in infant form. It appears as if it’s possessed a young boy and is now metamorphosing into an adult Gormon.

How long will that take? Once it
’s an adult we’ll be in real trouble.

Trust me Flux, we
’re in real trouble now.

What are you going to do?

I’ll have to tell Agmunsten and discuss it with him before we go any further. I’ll let you know when I’ve spoken to him.

You know what a great risk it is to contact him.

Boh! Of course I know! But what does it matter? I have no choice.
Flux let go of the mind link. He had never heard his companion so distressed. What did he expect when their worst nightmares were a reality. His appetite, unsurprisingly, was gone, however he pushed his worry to the side and set about finishing his meal. It could be his last.

20

Agmunsten slept. In his dream, he was guest of honour at a large feast and happily partaking of all his favourite foods: roast lamb, spiced roast vegetables, a rich and moist pudding filled with honeyed custard, fresh, thick cream drizzled its way from the top of the sweet mound to the plate. He looked across the dining table and locked eyes with an attractive, blonde-haired woman who must have been at least 470 years his junior. He revelled in what a good night he was having as she smiled suggestively at him. He heard a voice at his back. 

Agmunsten. Agmunsten. Wake up. I have to talk to you.

Not now, I’m having a nice dream
.

Wake up, damn you. This is urgent
. Avruellen was practically yelling. She was in no mood for subtlety.

Agmunsten reluctantly woke up and refocused.
What is it, Av?
 

Avruellen recounted her dream, instant by instant. The Head Realmist listened intently, face sad but calm when the story finished. Avruellen noticed he was neither scared nor surprised
. Did you already know about this?

In a way I knew they were here. This is definitely a development, though
. He headed off the anger he knew would be coming from his colleague.
There was no point telling you, or anyone, about what happened. It would’ve only started a panic, and unfortunately it wouldn’t change anything. You still need to do what I’ve asked.

“
There’s something else
. Agmunsten didn’t like the sound of that.
Bronwyn has left us, and her friend Corrille, horrible, ungrateful cow, has vanished. I’m afraid it’s just Flux and I.
  Agmunsten pondered the news.

That
’s unexpected
. Agmunsten pinched the end of his beard between his fingers.
Why did Bronwyn leave?

“
Interference from Drakon I’m afraid. He sent a large, black beast to take her away. I’ve checked on her though, and she is safe.
Agmunsten let out the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding.

This information changed things. He was sure Bronwyn
’s presence was necessary at The Isle of the Dead Souls, and what needed to be done had to be done soon. He wanted thinking time.
I’ll reach Vellonia in two days, all going well. I’d like to discuss this with Zim. Stay put until I tell you otherwise.

I can
’t get a boat anyway. The wind’s blowing a gale and probably won’t let up for a few days. I’ll be here. Let me know as soon as you work something out
.

OK.  Stay safe.

I’ll do my best. Bye
.

Agmunsten rose from his warm bed, shivering as his bare feet touched the cold floor. He dressed and gently prized Arie awake. The boy was sharing his room and King Edmund was in an adjoining room. Early in their travels Edmund had learned the hard way that Agmunsten was a snorer of cacophonous proportions
, so whenever they weren’t camping, Edmund insisted on having his own room. Arie was jealous. He found it tiring to always be getting out of bed to push Agmunsten onto his side. Usually it worked, but he was forced to make the trip between beds once or twice a night. It would be nice to have a good night’s sleep for a change.

Arie reluctantly opened one eye at a time.
“It’s still dark. Why are you waking me up?”

“
I’ve decided I want to get to Vellonia sooner. No more questions. I’m going to wake Edmund, and I expect you to be dressed and ready by the time I come back.” Arie picked the sleep out of his eyes with tired fingers and unhappily slid out of bed.

After waking Edmund, the realmist woke the stable hand. By the time the horses were saddled, the trio were ready to leave. As usual, Agmunsten had paid for their accommodation the night before, just in case. The clip clop of hooves was the only sound in the darkness as they rode out of the yard. Arie resented the fact that everyone for miles around was sleeping comfortably in cosy beds. Edmund whispered to Agmunsten,
“Why are we leaving now? What’s happened?” Agmunsten had not told the king why they were going. Arie, as a young boy, was used to having his questions go unanswered, but the king? Something bad must have happened.

“
I’d prefer not to talk about it. I’ll tell you when we get to Vellonia.” Agmunsten managed to use a superior tone even when whispering. King and boy looked at each other, eyebrows raised, disappointed the realmist chose to dismiss his king as if he really were just a member of his family. Agmunsten must have realised his lapse in cordiality and halted his horse, turning to look at Edmund and bowing his head slightly. “Forgive me. Sometimes I forget who you are, especially when you’re not in your finery. If I thought it was in your best interests to know, I would tell you. Please just trust me.”

Edmund nodded.
“I’ll always trust you my friend. No offence taken. I’m just used to being the one in control.” 

Agmunsten set a quick pace. He rode as fast as he thought the horses could go without foundering. In the two days it took to reach Vellonia, Agmunsten only allowed them three hours of sleep each night. Everyone, especially the horses, was tired. It was nearing dawn on the second day since Arie had been rudely awakened. He was slouching in the saddle, eyes closed. He knew his horse was watching where he was going, so he figured why should he have to look as well?  Consequently he was almost thrown to the ground when his horse stopped suddenly. Agmunsten laughed at the sight of Arie clinging desperately to his horse
’s neck.

They had been riding from the north, Agmunsten steering them to the eastern side of the great mountain ranges surrounding the Valley of the Dragons. Arie could only make out the dark outline of the mountains against the slightly less dark, predawn sky—a monumental expanse looming in front of them.
“The only entry to the city is where the river enters into the mountains on the east side.  We should reach it this afternoon.”