The Mirror of the Moon (Revenant Wyrd Book 2) Page 20

  “Stop,” Dalah said, tears streaming down her face. “You will try anything, won’t you?” The words came out in a hoarse whisper, and the pain in her voice pierced like a knife in Grace’s heart. “I know what it will do, but look at me, Grace. I am not a heroine any longer; I am just Dalah, the proprietor of Fairview Heights. The only Chaos I am concerned with now is that which you brought to my establishment when you killed a man this night. I want you out by tomorrow afternoon.”

  As she stalked away from Grace she called over her shoulder, “If you need a sorcerer, use one of Sylvie’s children.”

  “You honestly think that we will get Amber back that easily?” Grace said to herself as Dalah disappeared into the night. “Porillon has her now, in her clutches like a great raptor. We might never get her back.”

  Grace and Dalah were not the only ones in the group to feel the breaching of the Well of Wyrding. They only felt the warning within their wyrd; the sensation was very much different for Angelica and Jovian.

  Angelica had not been able to sleep. She had taken Jovian’s advice and consulted Joya’s book of sorcery, and where Joya had been able to read bits and pieces here and there, more being revealed as she touched more and more of her wyrd, Angelica was a different case altogether. She had sat there at first boggled as the strange, blocky letters began to rearrange themselves before her eyes, becoming words that she could actually decipher.

  The whole book had been revealed to her, but a fat lot of good it did as some of the things she had read several times she was not able to comprehend.

  But it wasn’t misunderstanding that kept her lying awake, unable to sleep despite her best efforts. It was that one passage …

  She had not heard Grace leave, or come back. For at the time the confrontation happened with the Tall Stranger, Angelica had just sat down with the book and had been swept away with interest in discovering what the book held.

  Now she was unsure if she ever wanted to pick the book up again.

  She rolled over with a sigh, pressing her hand to her forehead hoping the touch of her flesh on flesh might help in clearing some of the cobwebs and some of the worries.

  The passage had been clear in what it said, though it had taken a lot of skimming through nonsense for her to find it:

  The Carloso tells us through the Silver Law that we are all one. The Goddess and all her creatures are one, as there cannot be a place where the Goddess is not. The Goddess is infinite, making up space and reality, even our corrupt view of time.

  Therein lies a fallacy, for that very same book tells us of the horrors of Chaos and the corruption of Arael. How can there be Chaos and dalua if the Goddess is in all things? There is some truth to this passage, however, and that is the Goddess is one with all her followers. Those that turn from her are one with another force, a force that has been in existence as long as the Goddess herself: Chaos. In a sense the Carloso is right, that all of her creatures, her followers, are one with the Goddess, and though the Goddess is indeed infinite, making up our views of space and reality, there is also another infinite force that sketches a completely different image of space and reality for others, and all it takes is a shift in perception for one to follow the other infinite.

  There are some, however, that do not get to make this choice for themselves. Some creations have been claimed by one or the other no matter what their theological views are.

  However, as creatures of the Goddess, that is followers, we have a spark of her within us, the spark that we often call the soul. It is interesting how our most holy books tell us that we and the Goddess are the same, and yet people refuse to see it.

  In times past sorcerers and other wyrders were able to work wyrd in a rudimentary fashion using components and spell formulas; however, it is by tapping into the Goddess force that we are able to do much more as we are using the raw form of wyrd.

  It seems that when we realize what we truly are, a part of the Goddess, there is little that we cannot do. Yet even the ones that accept this truth, being one with the Creator, do not grasp the entirety of it.

  Our minds are the only limitation on what we can do. What I have understood, and why people call me the Child of the Goddess, has led to my mastering of wyrd. Sorcerers more than anyone else can control wyrd because of this understanding, or it may be our link with the wyrd that allows us to understand this better than the common folk. My understanding has gone further, and for that my sister and I are called Messiahs, or Ahksala.

  Our understanding runs thus: If the Goddess is infinite then there is no limitation on her. She is in every one of her followers and every one of her creations; she is the all and the void, and if she is so grand and we have a part of that grandeur within us then we, also, are limitless for there cannot be a segment of something that has no end. If there is no end then you cannot give a part of that, for you would be limiting what is not able to, by its very nature, be limited.

  So then it becomes a matter of the mind conceiving what is real and what is not that limits our true potential.

  With wyrd there is little that cannot be done, as many have already seen and harnessed.

  That being said, there are few limitations the Goddess herself has placed on her wyrders:

  One shall not un-create what another has created.

  One shall not take into themselves another’s wyrd, thereby depriving another of their Goddess-given ability.

  This changed when Arael fell. There are many names the dalua wyrder goes by: Alarist, dalua, Chaos wyrder, and so on. However, their wyrding differs slightly from ours as they are marked with the ability to un-create and steal the Wyrd of others. They are able to do this as they have no allegiance to the Goddess and therefore no limitations imposed by her.

  Here we see how powerful the mind is, for a simple change in thought can affect Wyrd. Belief is the most powerful tool.

  “But I worship the Goddess, not Chaos!” Angelica exclaimed at the book and her aunt whose words were written therein.

  Then we come to those cases that are preordained to be a follower of one or the other. It does not matter what they follow or believe in their hearts; all that matters is the wyrd that has been woven for them before their births. In this case their wyrd operates as stated above; being characteristic with un-creating and drawing out another’s wyrd.

  “But how can someone have their wyrd chosen for them? How could the Goddess do that? Why would the Goddess do that? You don’t make any sense!” Angelica yelled in frustration at the book. She slammed the book shut and cast it away from herself where it landed with a heavy thud on the floor. Turning out the light she rolled over, but no matter how she argued with herself, passing the hours, she could not stop her mind from going back to the proclamation of her Chaotic deed.

  “Am I dalua?” she whispered into the night, staring at the white dots on her palms. The stigmata used to mean salvation to her, until her wyrd came from them. Now they were her damnation. “Feeding off another’s wyrd and un-creating,” she scoffed.

  “Am I the Mask?” she asked, startled by the very real possibility. The question sounded ludicrous out loud, but in her mind there was valid reasoning for such a query.

  The feeling came on her then, and all of her muscles cramped at the same time, fire burning each nerve ending. She shrieked as the world seemed to catch fire. She expected to hear screaming from other rooms and in the street below. Certainly what she was feeling was something so large that others were also feeling it, but the answering cries never came. Only an unnatural hush fell over the city of Fairview. The hush was worse than screaming, for in all her life she never expected a place as large as Fairview to ever be completely silent.

  The burning and the cramping only lasted for a minute, but the hush went on for a good time after, as if the whole of the city were in mourning.

  When the bustle of city life started up again—the silent buzzing of nightlife filling Angelica’s ears—Jovian’s voice intruded on her.

  What t
he Otherworld was that? he asked, his voice thick from what Angelica imagined was sleep.

  I am not sure. Did you feel the same thing?

  You mean did it feel like I had just been thrown into the Lake of Fire? Yes!

  What does it mean? she asked him.

  I am not sure. Maybe Grace knows. It sounds like she just came back in.

  She left?

  Yeah some hours ago. What were you doing?

  Checking out Joya’s book. You?

  Nothing important, but the tone of his voice sounded like he had been doing something important. It could be that my room is by the door. What did you find out?

  Nothing really.

  You mean nothing you want to talk about?

  That too.

  It sounds like whatever you found did nothing to calm your unease.

  That would be an accurate summation. But there are more important things going on right now that I think we should deal with first.

  Like what that was just now?

  Exactly. You ready to confront Grace?

  For some reason I don’t think we need to confront her. Just as Angelica was going to ask why, a knock resounded against the wood of her door followed by Grace saying, “Get dressed and get out here. We have some things to discuss.”

  Angelica was slightly surprised when she stepped out of her room, binding the dressing robe around her while a fire roared merrily in the common room. Tea, coffee, cream, honey, and cakes sat out on the table.

  “No eggs or fruit?” Maeven asked, stepping out of the bathroom as Jovian came out of his room.

  Grace smiled, but only halfheartedly. “Sit. There are many things to discuss, and little time to do it in if we want to get any sleep before we start back out.” They all gathered around the table taking chairs and cups of coffee or tea. Angelica laced her coffee with ample amounts of honey and cream before she even realized that another figure darkened the corner.

  “Joya!” Angelica said going to check her sister, as if it were just a mirage propped in the corner.

  “When did you find her?” Jovian asked.

  “It was Dalah who found her. She did not tell me where or how she came about her, and I think it is best left unasked anyway.” Grace took a drink of her tea and lit her pipe.

  “You said that we are going to start back out tomorrow?” Maeven relaxed back in his chair and crossed his arms over his bare chest.

  “I think it best after recent developments,” Grace said. “I am not sure if you all felt what happened a few moments ago, but it seems the Well of Wyrding has been breached.”

  “What is the Well of Wyrding?” Jovian asked.

  “Not many people have heard of it. Most wyrders know of it, but fewer know where it is located, and fewer still on how to get to it. Many have speculated over the years what exactly the Well of Wyrding is. As you can imagine, there are nearly as many theories as there were theorists. Many people do not agree with other theories and have created their own, so there is no precise answer as to what it is. For all appearances it is nothing more than a large well of quicksilver; quicksilver that feeds a tree so large the branches cannot be seen, and it is thought to reach clear through all worlds—that of the living, the Ever After, and the Otherworld itself are said to all be connected by the tree.

  “The tree extends up into the clouds much higher than any other tree in the Sacred Forest. I imagine that Davis might be able to tell us whether there really is a top that he can see now, if he so chooses to possibly dispel that myth. Anyway, I digress. The quicksilver feeds the tree, and so it is that the quicksilver falls from the branches like rain, filling the Well of Wyrding even as it feeds from it.”

  “Where is it?” Maeven asked.

  “I am sure that you will find that out soon enough. I have already given you a great clue by saying it is in the Sacred Forest,” Grace responded.

  It is in the Shadows Grove, Angelica secretly suggested to Jovian.

  Either that or the Mirror of the Moon. She did say that he would find out soon enough, and the Lunimara is the only stop we have planned after this.

  Very true, she agreed and stopped communicating as Grace began speaking again.

  “If forced to describe the Well of Wyrding in one statement, I would say that it is that which controls wyrd in the Great Realms. But when the wyrd is usurped, well …”

  In reality the Well of Wyrding did more than control wyrd; the Well was the source of wyrd. Being neutral, all wyrd was able to thrive and exist of its own accord; however, once it was breached and swayed to one side as it seemed to be doing now, then the opposing wyrd would be terminated. Grace shuddered at the thought.

  Picking up on where all of this was going, Jovian cut in: “When wyrd becomes corrupted, are all wyrders of that alignment killed?” Jovian asked.

  “No,” she said shaking her head. “They will not be killed, only tainted as the other side of the wyrd within the Well has been. Everything that wyrd touches will be corrupt, even this very building in which we sit.”

  Angelica did not want to know how a building could be corrupt.

  “And it has been breached?” Maeven asked.

  “Yes, that was the feeling you got; it was from the breaching of the Well.”

  “And so we are heading there?” Maeven asked sitting forward.

  “You are not heading there. I am.” She stuck the pipe back between her teeth. “Balance must be restored to the Well.”

  “And you can do it?” Jovian asked skeptically.

  “I never claimed that I could. One does not spend her life around those with wyrd without picking up a few tricks and a little know-how. My experience with wyrders and wyrd helped me to interpret the signs tonight well enough, that and Dalah. Besides, Dalah will be helping us out in the regard of purifying the Well, though she doesn’t know it yet.”

  “So the Well of Wyrding has been breached, I am assuming by Porillon, and you are off to help Dalah purify it, though she does not know she will be doing so yet,” Angelica summarized.

  “Basically, yes. Though it is not that Dalah does not know she will not be doing it; she actually refused to help.”

  “Oh, I am glad that has been cleared up,” Jovian tossed his hands up.

  “Wait,” Maeven said. “How are we supposed to do all this, Grace?”

  “You are not supposed to do all this. The only thing the three of you are expected to do is save Amber. The continent will be in a great state of flux until this matter with the Well is cleared up, and I don’t want the three of you involved.”

  “The four,” Angelica said looking at Joya in the corner.

  “Sorry, it is so hard sometimes to remember her as she has been elsewhere for so long,” Grace said patting Angelica’s arm. “I don’t want the four of you involved. Porillon is not your concern.”

  “But the Well is!” Maeven protested.

  “It is, truly,” she agreed. “However, you do not know how to work with it, and so I don’t want you involved. Something going amiss could endanger wyrd further.”

  “But you might mess something up also,” he argued relentlessly.

  “DAMMIT, THIS IS NOT UP FOR DISCUSSION, MAEVEN!” Grace yelled, slamming her hand on the table with such finality that it made all of them jump. “You are not going to be involved, and at any rate, don’t you think there is enough that you need to contend with?”

  “What will happen to you then?” Angelica asked.

  “You will leave me behind. I think it best that we part company before the Lunimara and continue on our separate ways from there. We will meet back at the plantation. So, after you have Amber head back there; if anything else happens we will meet in the Realm of Earth at the Guardian’s Keep. I am sure you can find the way on a map.”

  “I don’t like this,” Angelica said warily. “It is so unclear. I had never heard of the Well of Wyrding before, and now it seems more menacing than Porillon and the possible destruction of our family.”

  “It is,
but don’t worry about tomorrow when today is so uncertain,” Grace advised Angelica, and in some strange way that comforted her, until reality intruded again and all the confusion of the last few days badgered Angelica’s mind.

  “Now,” Grace said folding her hands on the table, her pipe finished as well as her tea, “I think it best that we all get to bed as we have a long journey ahead of us, one that I fear will get worse before it gets better. We leave tomorrow afternoon.”

  And though they all went to bed and turned off their lights, sleep was hard to come by that night

  It was two days after Grace and her brood left that Dalah received yet another visitor, one that did not surprise her so much. Though Dalah had truly believed that she was out of the clear, when the redhead showed up out of the blue, Dalah chastised herself for not expecting it.

  “NO!” Dalah said, standing and pointing back at the door the whimsical redhead just came through. “I am done with charity and she has already approached me once. I am not leaving here and that is final.”

  “Ah, dear, so sad,” the vacant voice said.

  “It figures she would send you. After all, you two always were nearly inseparable. And to think I was nearly done with it all, and here you come. I knew I should have expected you, but I must say after the first day passed I thought you would not come, and then I came to actually believe that you had not followed her. How silly of me!”

  “I fear Grace has no idea I trail her,” the woman said, inching closer to Dalah despite the other woman’s heeding to leave. “But very foolish indeed, Dalah. I would have expected more of you.”

  “Have you ever known Grace to be left out of the loop?” Dalah said, her hand slowly lowering as she smiled at the woman.

  “Rarely,” she sniffed.

  “What do you want?” Dalah asked sitting back down. Though her gesture showed ease, she was as far from it as possible.