The Written (38 page)

The mage slapped a hand on his
knee. ‘This is what I’ve been trying to tell you! Helyard has been
travelling back and forth between Krauslung and Albion and we think
that this is where his friends plan to release the beast. Vice and
the dragons think there may be a dark elf well here, somewhere
we’ve never thought to look before now.’

Farden could see the intrigue
sparkling in the vampyre’s eyes. ‘Where?’ he asked.

‘Between Kiltyrin and
Fidlarig.’

It was Durnus’s turn to slap
his knee. ‘I knew it! I’ve always suspected Albion of hiding a well
and here it is, right under the Dukes’ noses!’ He quickly got up
and rushed over to a desk in the corner, stepping over something as
he did so. He rifled through various maps before jabbing his finger
at one of them. ‘There, a ruin on the side of a hill. That could be
your best shot.’

Farden got up from his chair
and made for the door. ‘Well bring that with you then, we don’t
have much time.’

Durnus looked up suddenly, and
there was an uncertainty on his face Farden hadn’t seen before.
‘Me?’ he asked. ‘What are you saying?’

‘I’m saying we need your help
old friend,’ replied Farden, but the vampyre just began to shuffle
the papers and parchment and shake his head. ‘I haven’t left this
Arkabbey in years, I have a responsibility... I, oh what would I
know anyway, I’m just an old bookworm!’

‘Durnus!’

‘No Farden, you can do this
without me,’

‘You’ve said how much you envy
my position, this is your chance to get out there and make a
difference,’ urged Farden, but the vampyre stayed quiet and stared
at the maps on his desk.

The mage kept talking. He knew
his old friend better than that. ‘Lost by dark ones all forgotten,
lakes of magick below paths untrodden. You taught me that. None of
us know the dark wells like you do, and that’s why we need your
help.’

There was a moment of silence
as Durnus thought quietly to himself. When he finally looked to
Farden, and the mage could have sworn he saw a twinkle in those
pale blue eyes. ‘It has been many years since I left the comfort of
this abbey, but if the fate of Emaneska is in the balance then I
suppose I must acquiesce,’ he smiled.

‘It was an order from Åddren,’
added Farden.

Durnus shrugged and began to
roll up his map. ‘Well, in that case.’

‘Good man,’ said the mage, and
he grinned.

‘There are still a few hours
before sunrise, I will prepare the quickdoor for us. Did you say
Dunyra?’ Durnus walked to the corner of the room where the
quickdoor sat dormant.

‘Yes, near the port. It’s where
the other Written are meeting. By the time we get there they should
already be searching the hills,’ Farden said.

‘Good, then let us waste not a
minute more! Give me an hour, and I shall be ready to leave.’
Farden nodded and left him to it. The mage shut the door quietly
behind him and wandered through the dark corridors. He had no time
to catch up on sleep, so he decided to make his way into the
kitchens and satisfy his growling stomach.

The kitchens and dining hall
were dark and silent; everyone seemed to be asleep apart from the
mage and the vampyre. Farden crept around the kitchen in the orange
light of the stove and gathered some bread. He reached into his
pack and took out some of the supplies that the Sirens had given
him. Farden found a pot of cold soup and dipped his bread in it,
following it with some of the dragon-riders’ chewy travelling
biscuits and a weird brown fruit that tasted something like a sour
apple. He made a face but finished it and searched through his pack
for some more of the biscuits. Farden walked as he chewed and
headed towards his room for a quick lie down.

His room seemed cold and bare
compared to the cosy atmosphere of the
Bearded
Goat
but it felt good to be back in familiar surroundings
again. He dropped his supplies to the floor with a thud and
stretched his arms. The mage walked to the window and stared at the
monochrome forest and listened to an owl hoot somewhere in the
trees. Farden chewed his biscuit and listened to the night sounds.
The room was dark so he reached for the candlestick that sat on the
bedside table. As he tried to click his fingers he knocked it
clumsily and it fell to the floor with a dull clunk. Farden
muttered to himself and cast a brief light spell. As he bent down
to pick the candlestick up, a small bark-cloth bundle caught his
eye, and he froze. Lying on the floor was the bundle of nevermar
from all those weeks ago, and the hazy memory of hiding it inside
the hollow candlestick suddenly came back to him. Farden made sure
the door was closed and crouched down, listening for any footsteps
in the corridor. He put aside his biscuit and grabbed the bundle.
The nevermar smelled old, dry, and it felt as though there was only
a little bit left. Farden clenched his fist around it and let his
mind wander. He ground his teeth together and felt temptation
prodding him with a stick as it always did. Something knocked
against his collar bone, the amulet around his neck, and Farden
scratched at it. He could almost taste the stuff on his tongue. He
closed his eyes and gnawed at his lip.
Let it
go
said a voice. The voice from his dreams. Farden sighed,
and shook his head.

With a grunt the mage stood up
and left his room. He ran quickly and quietly down the stairs until
he reached the ground floor and then he made for the door, still
gripping the bundle tightly in his hand. Farden emerged into the
shadowy gardens and strode across the damp lawn without a sound. He
reached the edge of the forest and ducked under a branch, wary of
any sounds behind him, and then crept into the trees.

Farden walked for a minute
until he was a safe distance away from the Arkabbey, careful to
mind snapping twigs or anything noisy. Deep in the woods the night
was thick and impenetrable. The only sounds were the whispering
boughs shaking their leafless branches and the screeching of the
distant owl. Farden leaned up against a tree trunk. The mage lifted
the little bundle to his nose and smelled the earthy, sickly-sweet
scent of the nevermar. He peeled back the cloth and pinched the dry
moss between his fingers. Saliva filled his mouth in anticipation,
and he twirled the nevermar between his fingers and rolled it into
a tiny ball. He felt the fire spell stirring in his hand.

‘What are you doing?’ said a
voice from behind him. Farden jumped, dropping the bark-cloth and
the nevermar, and in a blur his hand was on his sword handle. A
light spell pierced the gloom. He whirled around to find Elessi
holding her hands over her eyes. ‘Farden it’s me!’ she cried.

‘Elessi? What are you doing out
here?’ Farden released his sword and blew a brief sigh of
relief.

‘I could ask
you
the same question,’ came her reply. She fiddled
with her hands nervously in front of her. She was in a nightgown
and sandals and her curly brown hair covered her shoulders. Her
eyes were wide and hollow. She looked upset or scared, Farden
couldn’t tell.

‘Well it’s none of your
business,’ he said, suddenly irritated.

‘You’ve been gone for weeks, I
was starting to worry about you...’ began the maid, but Farden
shook his head.

‘You always worry about me
Elessi, I’m fine,’ hissed Farden. He looked down and
surreptitiously tried to spot the bundle of the nevermar amongst
the leaves.

‘How can I help it Farden, when
I see you sneaking into the forest in the middle of the night? I
haven’t seen you in days!’ Her voice was full of emotion, but
Farden wasn’t listening.

‘Where is it?’ he mumbled to
himself.

‘What’s wrong with you?’ She
sounded like she was about to cry. Elessi followed his gaze and
spotted something by her sandal. Before he could stop her she bent
to pick it up and held the little cloth package in her hand. She
peered inside. The sickly-sweet smell was unmistakable, even for
her. Tears instantly sprang to her eyes and Elessi looked up at
Farden with a quivering lip.

‘Tell me this isn’t yours,
Farden, please,’ she said, shaking her head as if she couldn’t or
wouldn’t believe what she had just found. The mage ground his teeth
together in annoyance. He rubbed his forehead with his thumb and
forefinger. ‘I was getting rid of it Elessi. Just give it to me,’
he muttered quietly. He held out a hand.

‘No,’ said Elessi. She fought
back tears and clasped the nevermar to her chest. He wasn’t sure if
he had ever seen her cry before.

‘Elessi, give it to me,’
repeated Farden.

‘No I won’t, not until you
explain what’s going on here. You know this is against the rules...
how could you do this to yourself?’ she said, sobbing pitifully.
Her face scrunched up in distress and her hollow eyes glistened
with huge tears.

Farden clenched his fists by
his side. ‘I don’t have to explain myself to you,’ he growled, and
his words sounded foreign even to him. Her expression said
everything and screamed disappointment.

Elessi sniffed loudly and shook
her head. ‘Then I think Durnus would want an explanation!’ she
cried. The maid stumbled backwards and turned to run into the
forest but Farden grabbed her arm before she could get any further.
‘Wait a minute!’ he hissed. The mage pulled her close and put both
of his arms around her to make sure she couldn’t get away.

‘Let go of me!’ she shouted.
The maid thrashed against his chest futilely with her fists like a
child, sobbing and straining to get away, but Farden held tight.
‘Listen! Elessi, stop struggling!’ He winced as a blow caught his
chin. After a moment of struggling she gave up and simply buried
her head in his tunic. He whispered in her ear as she sobbed and
cried against his clothes. ‘I won’t hurt you Elessi but you need to
listen to me! Durnus must not know about this, understand? I can’t
let him find out,’ he said. His words flooded his heart with
guilt.

‘Is that all you care about?
What about me?’ she gasped, punctuating her words by thudding her
fist against his chest. ‘They will hang you for this.’

Her words were like darts and
Farden’s heart sank in his chest. The mage sighed heavily and
rested his chin on her head. Farden looked around at the dark
forest, trying to find an explanation in the shadows or in the
night that surrounded the two of them. He was speechless, without
excuses. He sighed. ‘I kept it secret didn’t I? I can deal with it’
he said in a quiet tone.

‘Alone, and without help,’ she
sobbed, and sniffed. He had always hidden it. ‘And you, of all
people,’ she muttered. Her words echoed ominously in his head, and
somewhere deep within him it terrified Farden, even if he hadn’t
quite realised it yet. It was because of who he was that he started
in the first place. But Elessi was right. The mage lifted his head
and met her teary eyes. He had never seen her so sad. ‘I came out
here to burn it, I swear to you. I’m finished with it.’ Farden
paused, ‘...please,’ he added.

Elessi blinked and thought for
a moment, a moment that felt like forever to the mage. ‘Fine, but
you go back on your word and that vampyre will be the first to hear
about it, I swear to the gods.’ Her voice was hard like granite,
and Farden believed her. The maid awkwardly thumbed away a tear
with sudden embarrassment and slapped him one more time on the
chest for good measure. Slowly and gently he let go of her and then
took a few steps back. Elessi cleared her throat and in the light
of his spell and the moon he watched her blinking the last of the
tears away. Her eyes were still wide and fearful, but she tried a
wan smile and Farden held out his hand for the nevermar. At first
she shook her head resolutely, but he took a slow step forward and
met her gaze with an honest look, trying to convey as much trust as
possible.

‘Please,’ he said, in no more
than a whisper. Elessi sighed and held out the bark-cloth in front
of her with pursed lips and wary eyes. Farden took the little
bundle and closed his palm around it. There was a burst of orange
light from behind his fingers and smoke curled around his hands
like grey liquid. As the sickly smell of the drug reached Farden’s
nose a pang of regret suddenly shivered across his chest, but he
shook his head and threw the burning mess into the bushes.

‘I suppose that’s the first
step then,’ Elessi said quietly. She clasped her hands in front of
her.

‘Thank you,’ he said.

She shook her head at him.
‘I’ve watched you for years and I never suspected a thing. You’ve
come too far to ruin it now, and I... Well, we care too much about
you.’ The maid sniffed. ‘I care too much.’

Farden nodded and stretched. A
stray cloud had momentarily covered the moon. ‘You always have,’ he
said, and she gazed at him through the darkness with wide eyes. ‘I
can’t help it,’ she said. ‘I lo...’

But something moved in the
shadows, and Farden swiftly covered her mouth with a hand. A twig
snapped under invisible boots and the metallic whisper of swords
sliding from scabbards floated on the breeze to Farden’s keen ears.
A twang of a bowstring rang out from somewhere behind them and with
the speed of a pouncing wolf Farden threw out his spare hand. A
burst of white light burned an arrow to cinders in mid air. Elessi
screamed. Farden grabbed her roughly and pushed her forward through
the undergrowth, back towards the Arkabbey. She was making enough
noise to wake an army. Farden kept pushing.

‘Move Elessi! Go!’ he yelled at
her as he turned to face the attackers. The forest suddenly came
alive with shouts and cries. Dark men with hidden faces swarmed
through the trees towards them, waving blackened swords and curved
knives. Farden crouched to the loam and put a fist to the cold
ground. He shuddered as the spell ran through him. It jolted his
arms but he held his stance and concentrated. Just as three men
burst from the bushes mere paces from him, a black wall of rock and
earth sprang from the ground, arched and rippling like a wave
crashing on a shore, and collided with them in an explosion of
dirt. Their cries were cut short by the thick soil filling their
open mouths and roots and armour cracked noisily under the blow.
They scrabbled and spluttered to their feet but the mage was
already gone. He sprinted back through the forest, grabbed Elessi
by the hand and led her a twisting path between trees and
bushes.