realized, with fascination, that there was a Leering carved into the rock, hidden by the moss.
The ground leveled out in front of her and she approached the hidden glen quickly. The boulder was taller than her, rounded on one side and flat on the other. Cautiously, she lifted her hand and touched it. To her relief, it was pure – untainted by the Blight. In her mind, through her Gift of Seering, she could see other mastons who had used the cave for shelter. The Leering had been there for hundreds of years, protecting the entrance to the cave which water had hollowed out. Using her thoughts and will, she activated the Leering’s protection and set it to guard the entrance by frightening away anyone who wandered nearby. In her blood, she felt the Medium churn awake and the cave emptied of seawater. The Leering repelled the salty water as it did intruders and she noticed the entrance dry out. The waves crashed further away, against the cliffside instead of at the breach. She was grateful to the Leering and thanked it in her mind before stepping off the grassy hill and into the sand and pebbles of the wash.
Using the orb for light, she entered the cave and found a spot of dry sand where she stretched out after removing her rucksack and bow and settled down with her cloak as a blanket. She set the orb in the sand and summoned fire into it, using its glowing surface to warm her hands and body. Weariness engulfed her and she lay her head down, banishing the light from the orb with a thought and felt the darkness shroud her. She could not see, not even her hands before her face, but she could hear the murmur of the sea foam. In the darkness, she thought of Colvin.
Her memories flitted this way and that, like little butterflies scattering over a well-known patch of sunny grass. The first journey was through the mist to the cave where Maderos lived, a spot where the boulders floated in the air, suspended by the Medium’s power, where she had helped him find shelter from the sheriff of Mendenhall. She remembered next crouching over his body as Almaguer’s men had kicked him and abused him. In her mind, she saw Colvin as she walked away from the fire consuming a stand of oak trees after summoning it to destroy the evil men. He had caught her and carried her to a safe place where she slept. She remembered the promise of meeting again at Whitsunday, a whispered promise that he had not fulfilled because of his duty to find and protect Ellowyn Demont. She sighed deeply, jealous of the year the two had spent together, and jealous now of the time they were together in Dahomey.
Colvin had returned at last, surprising her one night in the kitchen. She squirmed at the memory of shouting at him, itching and healing from a poisonous sap that had stained her. Another memory – despite the dirt, the tattered hunters garb, the spots of mud and grime, he had let her hold his hands to warm and comfort him in a cave beneath the Muirwood grounds. She savored the memory, the intimacy of the moment. But not as much as she savored another cave, made of ash and charred wood – high in the mountains of Pry-Ree. She would never forget that dark frigid night, huddled together in the husk of a fallen tree so huge its roots had forged a cave. It was a moment she would always remember – the night he had finally confessed his love.
Closing her eyes, she reached out to him with her thoughts. Colvin?
He was so far away, in another country, in an Abbey that could no longer be reached by the Apse Veil. If the Medium could connect worlds, could it not bridge such a distance?
There was nothing in reply. No flicker of thought or awareness other than her own. Her heart twisted with pain at being away from him. She would have given all she possessed to find a way to be with him at that moment. It was a desperate yearning, a craving so strong it stung her eyes with tears. In the quiet of the cave, it felt as if she were all alone in the world.
Lia shifted in
The ground leveled out in front of her and she approached the hidden glen quickly. The boulder was taller than her, rounded on one side and flat on the other. Cautiously, she lifted her hand and touched it. To her relief, it was pure – untainted by the Blight. In her mind, through her Gift of Seering, she could see other mastons who had used the cave for shelter. The Leering had been there for hundreds of years, protecting the entrance to the cave which water had hollowed out. Using her thoughts and will, she activated the Leering’s protection and set it to guard the entrance by frightening away anyone who wandered nearby. In her blood, she felt the Medium churn awake and the cave emptied of seawater. The Leering repelled the salty water as it did intruders and she noticed the entrance dry out. The waves crashed further away, against the cliffside instead of at the breach. She was grateful to the Leering and thanked it in her mind before stepping off the grassy hill and into the sand and pebbles of the wash.
Using the orb for light, she entered the cave and found a spot of dry sand where she stretched out after removing her rucksack and bow and settled down with her cloak as a blanket. She set the orb in the sand and summoned fire into it, using its glowing surface to warm her hands and body. Weariness engulfed her and she lay her head down, banishing the light from the orb with a thought and felt the darkness shroud her. She could not see, not even her hands before her face, but she could hear the murmur of the sea foam. In the darkness, she thought of Colvin.
Her memories flitted this way and that, like little butterflies scattering over a well-known patch of sunny grass. The first journey was through the mist to the cave where Maderos lived, a spot where the boulders floated in the air, suspended by the Medium’s power, where she had helped him find shelter from the sheriff of Mendenhall. She remembered next crouching over his body as Almaguer’s men had kicked him and abused him. In her mind, she saw Colvin as she walked away from the fire consuming a stand of oak trees after summoning it to destroy the evil men. He had caught her and carried her to a safe place where she slept. She remembered the promise of meeting again at Whitsunday, a whispered promise that he had not fulfilled because of his duty to find and protect Ellowyn Demont. She sighed deeply, jealous of the year the two had spent together, and jealous now of the time they were together in Dahomey.
Colvin had returned at last, surprising her one night in the kitchen. She squirmed at the memory of shouting at him, itching and healing from a poisonous sap that had stained her. Another memory – despite the dirt, the tattered hunters garb, the spots of mud and grime, he had let her hold his hands to warm and comfort him in a cave beneath the Muirwood grounds. She savored the memory, the intimacy of the moment. But not as much as she savored another cave, made of ash and charred wood – high in the mountains of Pry-Ree. She would never forget that dark frigid night, huddled together in the husk of a fallen tree so huge its roots had forged a cave. It was a moment she would always remember – the night he had finally confessed his love.
Closing her eyes, she reached out to him with her thoughts. Colvin?
He was so far away, in another country, in an Abbey that could no longer be reached by the Apse Veil. If the Medium could connect worlds, could it not bridge such a distance?
There was nothing in reply. No flicker of thought or awareness other than her own. Her heart twisted with pain at being away from him. She would have given all she possessed to find a way to be with him at that moment. It was a desperate yearning, a craving so strong it stung her eyes with tears. In the quiet of the cave, it felt as if she were all alone in the world.
Lia shifted in
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