Reckoning of Fallen Gods Read online

  His fears faded with every step. He had been hurt and had forced the slave to support him, to find him food and kindling for the fire. Then Aoleyn had healed him.

  A simple and believable tale.

  Aghmor was nodding before he had put the cave out of sight behind him, confident that he would be welcomed back into the tribe, and that they, Tay Aillig and Mairen in particular, would take care of Bahdlahn, and would finish the ceremony they had started with Aoleyn up beside Craos’a’diad.

  That last thought made him grimace, but the image of her swaying atop the uamhas turned any regret into deeper anger.

  * * *

  “Abandon your hopes for the Usgar,” Bahdlahn bade Aoleyn as they made their way back to the cave. “Let us leave, now.”

  “Leave?” Aoleyn asked skeptically, but mostly because she didn’t have an answer to the greater hints the young man was dropping here. She had made love to him, had given him that pleasure and had given herself that pleasure, for many reasons. Bahdlahn’s entire life was one of misery, so he deserved the moment. And Aoleyn had needed it, too, had needed to prove to herself all that she had proclaimed to Mairen, that it was her body and hers alone.

  She also held great affection for Bahdlahn. The attraction was undeniable, and she felt a level of comfort with him that she had never known with another person. Did that mean that she loved him?

  “To Fasach Crann and my people on the lake,” he went on.

  “They do’no even know you.”

  “Aye, but they’ll know of me, and so accept me,” he pressed. “And you. When I tell them…”

  “No, Bahdlahn, I can’no. Not now.”

  “We can have children, a family,” Bahdlahn said, rolling right through her denial. “There is food and water and all that we’ll need about Loch Beag. Your people will’no come looking for you, and if they do, we’ll be long out on the lake before e’er they arrive!”

  Aoleyn wasn’t even listening. His first sentence had shut her down. Perhaps she did love him, she thought, but still, she was a young woman only beginning to find her place in the world and her power in the magic of the gemstones. There was nothing about her current situation that made her want to set her life’s course and raise a family at that time, either up on the mountain or down at the lake. When she looked out from Fireach Speuer, her gaze did not go to Loch Beag with longing, no! Her eyes scanned beyond, far beyond, across the low desert east of the mountains, or to the mystical lights in the night sky far to the south. The thought of becoming pregnant, of having children, of becoming someone’s wife could not gain traction in her mind. Not then. Not hardly. She would never have made love to Bahdlahn if she had thought that a possibility, because she knew that with the gemstone magic, she could make sure that it was not.

  Aoleyn had only begun to taste her freedom now, after the revelations of the deep caves beneath Craos’a’diad. She was growing in the magic of the gemstones and in the music of life itself, and that was a journey that would consume her for a long time to come, so she hoped.

  Bahdlahn was still talking, but she hushed him with a reminder of the third of their little troupe as they moved into the foyer of the secret cave. Aoleyn put a finger over her pursed lips, bidding him to silence, then crept into the inner cave.

  The embers burned low, so the woman enacted the power of her cat’s eye, scanning.

  She stood up straight, Bahdlahn bumping into her from behind as she brought up a brighter light from her diamond.

  “What are you doing?” Bahdlahn whispered in her ear, but he bit the question short and moved about her, looking around. “Where is he?”

  Aoleyn strengthened her diamond light, brightening the interior of the small cave more fully than any fire that had ever been lit in here.

  Aghmor was not there. A sinking feeling came to Aoleyn’s gut.

  “Where is he?” Bahdlahn asked again. “Why would he go out? Was he attacked, do you think?”

  Aoleyn put as much of her energy into her diamonds as she could, and filled the cave with a bright glow, as bright as the day.

  “No bloodstains,” she observed. “The fire still smolders.”

  Bahdlahn dug through Aghmor’s sleeping furs, which were in the same pile Aghmor had always kept them in.

  “His waterskin is still here,” he said. “And his other supplies as well.”

  “But not his spear,” Aoleyn said astutely.

  A mask of concern grew over Bahdlahn’s face. “Where could he have gone?” he asked breathlessly.

  “His leg was not fully healed, so not far,” Aoleyn replied, her voice grim.

  Bahdlahn spun about, heading for the exit corridor, but Aoleyn grabbed him and stopped him as he moved past her.

  “We have to go find him,” Bahdlahn protested.

  Aoleyn held up the wedstone pendant strung on her chain belt.

  “I’ll find him,” she said. “You stay here and protect me.”

  Bahdlahn didn’t seem to quite understand, but Aoleyn did not bother to fully explain. There wasn’t enough time. She sat down cross-legged on a pile of furs.

  “You stay and guard my body,” she instructed. “Promise me. I’m sure to be helpless without you.”

  Bahdlahn still didn’t seem to understand, but he nodded and moved to kneel beside her.

  Aoleyn focused on the music of the powerful wedstone, heard the notes and fell into them, and stepped out of her body. She looked back as she headed for the exit, and felt a surge of comfort as she eyed Bahdlahn kneeling beside her so attentively, faithfully protecting her. He would give to her what she needed.

  A pang of guilt stung her, for could she say the same? Could she give Bahdlahn what he wanted from her?

  She knew the answer, but had to let it go. These were thoughts for a quieter time, a conversation for another day. For now, she needed to catch up to Aghmor, and quickly.

  * * *

  Talmadge belly-crept up the rocky slope, inching his way as stealthily as he could manage. He thought he was doing fairly well, until Aydrian came past him, moving swiftly and without a whisper of sound. Was there anything this self-proclaimed ranger could not do with amazing skill and competence?

  Heavy clouds had settled overhead, making the night quite dark, which would have given Talmadge more confidence, except that they weren’t sneaking up on humans, but on mountain goblins, and Aydrian had assured him that goblins could see as well as a hunting cat in the dark.

  Talmadge crested the hill right next to Aydrian, to look down on the village of Carrachan Shoal, or what was left of it. The man ducked back immediately, shaking his head, for as Catriona and others had feared, the sidhe had not simply raided, collected their booty, and run off. No, they were still there in the village in large numbers. Few houses remained, and the occupiers had taken most apart, using the wood to fortify the place.

  For now, a simple palisade encircled the main portion of the remaining village. No light came from within, nor were any torches upon the wall, but peering closer, Talmadge did note some movement up there, sidhe sentries walking parapets.

  Talmadge grew uneasy. He wanted to get out of there, expecting a sidhe patrol to be about at any time. If they were this well-organized within the city, then they likely had sentries walking the perimeter without. He looked to Aydrian, and finally nudged the man, motioning back down the ridge to indicate that they should be gone.

  But Aydrian shook his head and remained in place.

  “You go,” he whispered in Talmadge’s ear. “Alert the camp and wait for me.”

  Talmadge hesitated. Aydrian nodded down the slope.

  After a few moments considering the command, Talmadge decided that Catriona and the others really did need to know. He nodded at Aydrian the next time the man glanced his way, then began slowly backing down the ridge. At the base, he stood up and sprinted back into the trees, back to the small camp where Catriona and some others waited.

  His expression told them as much as his ensuing words. />
  This would be no easy fight.

  * * *

  Aoleyn’s spirit swept out of the cave, unbounded by the earth, the stone walls, even. She began a fast circuit of the area, soaring around, then widening her perimeter with each pass. Through the trees she flew, above the snowpack, across the muddy trails and wind-cleared stones. She wanted to find Aghmor. She wanted him to be around.

  She didn’t particularly like spirit-walking, and after her recent tangles with the demon fossa, she couldn’t help but feel vulnerable out of her corporeal form.

  But she had to find Aghmor, and there was no faster or more thorough way to search for him.

  Had he wandered off in search of Aoleyn and Bahdlahn? Had he gone out, perhaps simply to piss, and fallen victim to his still-injured leg?

  Perhaps he needed her then, and that was her hope, a hope that was fast fading with every circuit of the area about the camp. In this spiritual form, Aoleyn could keenly sense any living people around her.

  Aghmor was not near the cave. It quickly became apparent to her that he had gone out with purpose. Aoleyn was afraid what that might mean. Nor did she have any desire to go over to the west, to the Usgar encampment. Not in this form. She had no choice in the matter, though. She had to know. Off she sped, across the mountainside, very soon after cresting the ridge to the winter plateau. She expected to find the camp asleep, mostly, as it was very early in the morning, and when that was not the case, her fears escalated.

  Even more so when she spotted Aghmor, and more still when she noted that he was speaking to Tay Aillig!

  So many people around tempted her spirit—their bodies seemed like white lights to her, beckoning her back to a corporeal form, calling her to enter a new host and possess him or her.

  No, she couldn’t do that. She thought for a moment to try it with Aghmor—perhaps she could crash into his thoughts and prevent him from abandoning her and Bahdlahn to Tay Aillig, for that was certainly what she expected him to be doing.

  Even the quick thought of that had her sliding into his mind, for the temptation proved simply too great. Aghmor recoiled at the intrusion, and Aoleyn caught herself quickly enough to slip right back out, flying high up above them, trying to put some distance between her spirit and those inviting hosts.

  Even as she did, she considered Aghmor’s thoughts, relayed in that instant, in that eyeblink, of their joining. An image of their secret cave. And now, above them, she heard the words.

  “Close, yes,” Aghmor said. “You could be there before they awaken.”

  The words seemed slurred and distant to Aoleyn in this spiritual realm, but she understood them enough to recognize the danger.

  She thought to rush back into Aghmor then, to take over his body and attack Tay Aillig.

  It would be a desperate and foolhardy ploy, though. Possessing another was a difficult task in the best of circumstances, and she had been out searching for a long while and was growing weary from this taxing use of magic.

  She tried to tell herself that, but found herself drawing inexorably closer to the man.

  “You will lead us,” she heard Tay Aillig say, but he ended abruptly and snapped his gaze upward, staring right at Aoleyn.

  How could that be?

  His face took a vacant expression, a moment of confusion, but then he smiled, as if sorting out the riddle.

  He knew that her invisible spirit was there, but how could that be?

  Panicking, Aoleyn turned to flee. She had to get back to the cave, and quickly, to gather Bahdlahn and be on their way. She would fly him down the mountain, down to the town on the lake. What choice…?

  Her plotting fell away, for as she turned, Aoleyn noted another soul hovering about in the realm of spirit, staring at her, ready for her.

  Mairen.

  And with the dozen others of the Coven.

  They had known she would be coming, and how she would be coming.

  Down below, she heard Tay Aillig shout out, “Gather the warriors!”

  * * *

  “We should go at them straightaway,” said Asba of Carrachan Shoal, the lone member of that village to accompany this scouting expedition back to surveil the sacked town.

  “It would be costly,” Aydrian replied after Talmadge had properly translated. With help from the magical gems and his work with Talmadge, Aydrian was becoming proficient in the language of the plateau already, but not enough to ensure that these critical conversations would be exact enough. “They are fortifying.”

  Asba, Catriona, and the others didn’t seem pleased at the reply, which they understood well enough before Talmadge had offered a more polished translation. They discussed the matter back and forth, with Talmadge trying to offer snippets to Aydrian. The conversation, though, was fast and sharp, and heated.

  “Well?” Aydrian asked when things finally settled.

  “They want to attack,” Talmadge replied.

  “I got that much. Catriona seemed against it.”

  “She was,” Talmadge confirmed. “At first. But she’s come to see that the sidhe must be driven away and not allowed a foothold so near to Fasach Crann. The folk of Carrachan Shoal want their village, back, of course.”

  “These goblins, these sidhe, have you ever seen them behave such?” Aydrian asked.

  “No,” answered Talmadge.

  “Aydrian turned to Catriona and asked the same question in the language of the plateau. Catriona turned and mumbled to her companions, and the young man named Asba offered some thoughts of his own. Aydrian tried to keep up, but they were talking too quickly for him to follow.

  “She hasn’t, no,” Talmadge then said to Aydrian. “She’s never seen them this near the lake, either. The sidhe mostly stay to the mountains, and on those rare times they’ve attacked a village, they strike quick and are quicker to leave.”

  “Much like the goblins in other parts of the world,” Aydrian told him. “Usually, but not always.”

  “Have you ever seen sidhe do this?” Catriona said to him, speaking slowly.

  “Aye,” Aydrian replied directly to her. “Or I’ve heard of it, at least.” He turned to Talmadge to better explain in the language of Honce. “During the wars of the demon dactyl, the goblins that you call sidhe became more organized. They conquered towns and held them. This is what I fear, and this is why I do not wish to attack blindly. This band in Carrachan Shoal did not come down the mountain singly. Three attacks, at least. We know not why the goblins are behaving as such, but if they are doing so on command from some greater power, some leader…”

  “Then we should destroy this group now,” Talmadge interrupted, “before that leader can reinforce them.”

  “And what if it already has?” Aydrian asked. “What if their strength is greater than we believe? Who knows how many may have come into Carrachan Shoal to crouch behind that palisade?”

  Talmadge started to reply, but held his tongue and just stood there staring at Aydrian, trying to digest it all.

  “Tell them,” Aydrian bade him. “Tell them all of it.”

  “What would you counsel them to do?”

  “Set scouts, all about Carrachan Shoal,” Aydrian replied. “Every trail. And watch the town carefully, that we can better learn their numbers.”

  Talmadge nodded and turned to relay the counsel, but Aydrian stopped him by adding, “And tell them to have their boats loaded with supplies and ready to put out onto the lake.”

  All eyes fell over Aydrian as Talmadge offered the advice to the lakemen, and Aydrian noted that the young man, Asba, of Carrachan Shoal grimaced more than once. He was eager to get back at those who had sacked his home, Aydrian knew, and he surely understood.

  “And send word to the other towns,” Aydrian said to Talmadge. “All the folk of Loch Beag will want these goblins, these sidhe, destroyed, for who will be safe while they are about?”

  Talmadge interpreted for Catriona, who stood there silent and stern for many heartbeats before finally nodding her agreement.r />
  Behind her, Asba slapped his hands against his thighs and cursed in Aydrian’s general direction.

  * * *

  They came at her from every angle, flashes of light, multicolored, elongated representations of the forms. Aoleyn felt as if they were dancing about her, these thirteen witches, darting at her suddenly, randomly, calling her name, calling her names, taunting her, threatening her. Fleeting shadows of the women who were indeed dancing, she knew, around the Crystal God in the sacred grove.

  She was too near that place, she feared, too near their source of power, and one that they were now accessing.

  She had not surprised them, as she had when she had intruded on the initiation ceremony on the solstice. Nay, quite the opposite.

  They had been lying in wait for her.

  She realized that. Aghmor had been here for a long time and had told them everything—it had to be.

  Now what was she to do?

  The witches’ spirits encircled Aoleyn, dancing shadows of blue and red, yellow and green, their forms shifting through the colors of a rainbow as if to match their mood and charge. And they did charge, leaping in at her with curses and chants, their shadows mingling with hers as if to possess her.

  Off balance, Aoleyn shifted from one to the other, snapping her thoughts shut to them with fury, denying them, ignoring them. In her mind, she pictured them as physical clouds of human form, some more substantial than others, clouds that stretched and warped and enwrapped bits of her, as if trying to pull her sensibilities apart.

  With every distraction, she felt diminished, and felt unbound.

  She thought of the fossa, of what it had done to her mother, of what it had done to Seonagh. Not so different from this, she recognized, and she tightened her thoughts in that moment of great fear, tried to become smaller, tighter wound, more substantial.

  Mairen’s face flashed to her, the woman’s leering grin telling her of her doom, that she could not escape, that they knew.