Chapter
36
“Lord Dowbreth is here, My Lady,”
said Capreesh.
Tolian froze. Every muscle stiffened at once. Her heart skipped a beat, and suddenly she
could not catch her breath. A slight
spasm ran up her spine and produced a twitch in her face. Hardly noticeable, but nonetheless reflective
of the jolt of terror that just passed through her. He had not come to her chambers since that
time, two years ago now. A violent
shudder took hold of her, like an earthquake after a tremor, or the full force
of the blizzard after a flurry. She
hated that she was afraid of him, hated it almost as much as anything
else. She hated that he held such power
over her simply because she was smaller and weaker than him. She hated him for what he had done to
her. Another involuntary shudder raged
through her. She hated him for another
year spent in her prison in the sky.
Kreel looked at her with
concern. Her brow knit in an instant fit
of worry. Her eyes revealed her fear for
Tolian.
The Empress of Faerie was determined
to show no fear. She attempted to steel
her soft, quivering muscles. She would
not feel this fear if she were still a man; this was a fear that she could
never even have fully comprehended as a man.
She set her book down and stood up from her comfortable chair in the
library; a twinge of pain issued from her wound, still weeping small amounts of
blood and slough. It left her
continually weaker. She exhaled to calm
herself.
“I’ll see him the parlor,” Tolian
replied to Capreesh finally.
“Very good, Milady,” said the faerie
girl, with a curtsey. She turned and
left the room.
Tolian stood there a few minutes to
regain her composure. She battled her
fear, which wanted, more than anything, to send her cowering, hiding away
somewhere safe. She fought that impulse
back, but was surprised at how powerful it had actually been. She was no coward.
Fear is my enemy, she reminded
herself, silently. “Come” she said to
Kreel.
She walked slowly out of the library
and towards the parlor, with Kreel following just behind her. Thank the gods for Kreel, she
thought. I don’t think I would have
kept my sanity this long if it hadn’t been for Kreel. Her kindred soul, her closest friend in
Faerie. It had helped, to have her
there, always by her side. Only she
could truly relate to Tolian, truly understand what it is to go from being a
man, a warrior at that, and become a woman.
Helping Kreel adapt, to find a state of acceptance with her new body,
her new gender, had been a project that Tolian enjoyed. Occasionally Kreel provided insights Tolian
had not yet gained.
“Are you going to be okay?” asked
the faerie. “I can tell Dowbreth that
you’re ill, or something.”
“I will see him,” Tolian replied
with a sternness that surprised even her.
“I will not live in fear.”
“Do you want me to get Mesdor and
Gredalon?” Kreel offered.
“Oh, do you think they would help
me? I think they’ve become far too
corrupted by the Demon to protect me from Dowbreth,” the Princess of Lorm
answered. “Besides, they give me the
creeps now.”
Mesdor and Gredalon had changed
significantly in the last year. Their
proximity to Tolian had indeed feminized them, but their frequent visits to the
lower palace had exposed them to the twisting, foul influence of the Demon’s
head. They now had fanged beaks on their
gnarled faces, fully developed breasts and female characteristics, but ragged,
greasy wings sprouted from their shoulders and their legs ended in talons. They smelled terribly, like the odor of dung
on a warm day. Since Kreel kept
constantly by Tolian, their presence in her vicinity was kept to a
minimum. Still, when Kreel slept, one or
the other of them kept a vigil on Tolian.
She tried to have as little to do with them as possible, not because of
their physical transformation, which Tolian understood they couldn’t control,
but because of the changes in their attitudes and personalities. They had become downright mean, though
Gredalon retained her natural quietness, so she wasn’t quite as bad. They constantly snapped and barked at the
servant girls, and seemed to take great delight in belittling others. Tolian had to repeatedly command them to
leave the servant girls alone. No,
Mesdor and Gredalon would be no help to her if Dowbreth did mean to hurt her
again. A twinge of trepidation. Fear is for my enemy. Fear is defeat and the forerunner of
defeat. I will hold no fear.
She hated to think what Faerie must
be like now. There were still some
bastions of sanity left, she knew. It
had only been a week since she was seated, as so often, on her balcony playing
with the clouds or staring down at Faerie from her vast height, from where it
still looked mostly normal. But she knew
it only looked so because she could see no details. Well, there she had been sitting, when she
noticed something strange about a passing cloud. It was a huge, big white and fluffy
cloud. And upon it were a castle and a
small village, situated around a lake, all set right in the middle of the
cloud. She could descry a few trees and
a sizable field filled with the abundance of the harvest there. The sight held her transfixed. The cloud passed just below her and when some
of the inhabitants of the cloud island beheld her they waved. They appeared to be normal faeries in every
respect; they showed no signs of the Demon’s vile corruption. Tolian waved enthusiastically in return, a
smile brightened her face for the first time in months. A father, presumably, held up his young
daughter so she could see Tolian. Tolian
blew her a kiss. The little girl locked
her gaze lovingly on Tolian. Pilt wanted
badly to fly down to her, but Tolian held the flying cat tightly.
“No, Pilt,” she said. “You know I don’t want you to leave the
tower. It’s not safe.”
She almost thought of the faerie cat
as her child. This realization brought
thoughts of her real son, Relinder, to her.
She prayed he was safe, but she knew that Myrthis would allow no harm to
befall their child. She missed him
terribly. She missed Myrthis. She missed everyone. Then thoughts of Brythia came back once again
and she cried for the thousandth time.
She had turned to Kreel then.
The faerie saw her tears. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re my friend, right?” asked
Tolian, who balanced her glances between Kreel and the cloud village, maybe two
hundred feet below her, as she spoke.
“I would die for you, but you know
this. You are my Empress, my Goddess, my
best friend, yes.”
“Then, why can’t you help me escape
from here?” Tolian questioned with an almost begging tone in her voice.
“We’ve been over this before,”
replied the faerie. “You have commanded
all of Faerie to obey Dowbreth. I will
not disobey your command. Now, if you
order me to help you escape, I will do it immediately, but how far could you
get? And could you live with the
consequences? We both know what will
happen to Brythia the moment you try it.
It is up to you. I am your
servant.”
“I know,” said Tolian wearily.
Still, she could not help but think
about jumping down to the passing cloud.
She could summon it to come closer, but who knew the havoc it could
wreak on the village. At this distance,
she might make the lake, or it could prove fatal and end her misery. Kreel would stop her, no doubt, before she
could do it. Perhaps, it would be best
for both her and Brythia if they were both dead. If their suffering were finally ended. She could not bear the thought of Brythia
dead, of those pure blue eyes closed forever.
No, she had to endure; she had to find a way. Somehow, deep inside her she held on to the
slender and tattered belief that she would once again feel Brythia’s embrace.
Those memories faded as she strode
into the parlor. She made certain to
straighten her back and stand as tall as she could. There was Dowbreth, looking unchanged by the
Demon’s power, save perhaps for even more cruelty and malice burning in his red
eyes. Tolian noticed that the bag
containing the Demon’s head still hung from his belt with
the heads of his slain enemies. She held
herself still, calm, and composed and met Dowbreth’s scornful gaze with
defiance. Kreel stood just behind her.
“Lord Dowbreth,” she said with
formality. “Welcome. What can I do for you?”
He seemed almost surprised, at least
a little disconcerted, by her straightforward manner. His gaze strayed to Kreel and a lustful sneer
took his lips as recognition dawned on him.
Tolian protectively stepped over to obstruct the villain’s view of her
friend.
“It has been some time, two years,
since you accepted my proposal, and I thought I should pay you a visit to
remind you why you are here.”
“I do not require reminding as to
why I am here,” Tolian said flatly.
“Do you not even want to see your
girlfriend, just to make certain that she is safe?” retorted the warlord.
“Yes, I want to see Brythia more
than anything, but I will not do so through your master’s cursed eyes, not ever
again. I cannot trust such visions in
any case. I assume by your willingness
to show her to me that she is still at your mercy and still alive.”
Dowbreth was nearly crestfallen. He seemed to be at something of a loss.
Tolian continued. She could feel her voice wanting to waver,
but she held it firm and maintained her cold stare into the giant’s glaring red
eyes, “Well, if that’s all, and if you will excuse me, I’m in the middle of a
chapter in the book I’m reading and I would like to finish it. You can spare yourself the trip up here next
year, if you like. I will not utilize
the Demon’s magick for any purpose ever.
Trust me, I will feel it in my heart if anything happens to
Brythia. And if she dies, I will gnaw
off my hand and free myself from your Dark Moon Metal. Nothing will save you or your master’s
head. Now, may I return to my book, or
would you care to assault me first?”
Dowbreth said nothing, and he was
too mad to pay any more attention to Kreel’s obvious feminine charms.
“I will be back in five years, then,
on our wedding day,” he said sourly, finally.
“Enjoy your book.”
Without another word, he spun round
and exited the parlor, his translucent green cape trailing behind him.
Tolian could scarcely believe
it. Relief poured into her muscles and
her soul.
“Whew,” she said aloud.
“I second that,” agreed Kreel. “I’ve never felt anything like that in my
entire life before. I was so afraid of
him, of what he could do to you, or,” she paused, “to me.”
“Yes, well, this time he didn’t,”
said Tolian. “And, somehow or other, I
am going to figure out some way out of here, before another five years passes,
I can tell you that. Some way that
doesn’t risk Brythia’s life.”
“I am your servant,” replied Kreel,
“always.”
“Come on,” suggested the Lormian,
“let’s have some more pipeweed. After
that I think we both could use it.”
Once again, on the balcony. They sat and smoked bowlful after bowlful of
the fine faerie pipeweed. It soothed
Tolian’s jagged nerves, and helped her forget about her pain for a little
while. It helped numb her feelings, so
the separation from Brythia did not hurt so terribly. She hoped Brythia wasn’t feeling it as
badly. She didn’t think that time was
passing as quickly there as it was in Faerie.
She kept picturing what the Demon’s head had shown her, running the
images over and over again in her mind.
Clearly, little time had transpired from Brythia’s perspective. Her garments were the same all three times
that she had seen them, it was obvious.
She could not be sure if somehow the fiend had merely projected images
from that one time into her brain.
Still, there seemed to be an element of truth in the images, as if she
were seeing something that was happening at the same time. Not unlike the Spirit Vision of the
druids. Kreel had verified that such
differences in time between the two worlds did occasionally occur. So, perhaps the agony of the separation was
not quite as acute for her wife.
Another puff of smoke and the
thought was gone, buried, or forgotten.
Tolian began to stare off dreamily at the clouds. With her mind, she bid them form the fanciful
shapes of giant birds and dragons.
“We can’t stay out here too long,”
stated Kreel in an absent manner. “The
Moon will be up soon. Mesdor will be
coming to make sure that you’re not outside when it does.”
“Of course she will,” responded the
princess. “She always does. And you’re a good little soldier, so you make
sure that I’m safe and sound locked away before she gets here. How long do we have?”
“About a fifteen minutes.”
“Let’s try something, an
experiment,” said Tolian
“Sure, what do you want to do?”
inquired the faerie.
“I’m going to find out exactly why
I’m not supposed to be exposed to the moonlight,” stated the princess.
“You know I can’t let you do that,”
declared Kreel.
“As of right now, I command you to
no longer accept that Dowbreth is in charge, but I want you still to act as
though you do, in every situation save when I give you specific orders not to,”
said Tolian.
Kreel was surprised. It was as if a light of understanding slowly
descended upon her.
“As you command,” she eventually
responded with a wide smile.
“Good,” said Tolian, she paused and
struggled to grapple her thoughts. The
pipeweed often clouded her reason; that it did so, was part of the reason she
smoked it. To escape. But now, since she had stood up to Dowbreth,
a new courage had come into her. She
would be cautious, she would be meticulous, but she would figure out a way to
escape her prison.
“First, we need to stop smoking this
stuff for a little while and clear our brains out,” Tolian offered.
She detected a frown darting quickly
across Kreel’s features.
“Kreel,” she addressed her
sternly. “We are getting out of here,
and I am going to figure a way to do it that will get us all out of Faerie, but
that will keep Brythia safe from Dowbreth’s secret confederate. To do that I need to think clearly. To think clearly, I need to stop
smoking. You may continue if you like.”
“What about your pain?” questioned
Kreel.
“I am a warrior,” replied
Tolian. “I shall deal with the pain.”
A confidence swept over her, such as
she had not felt in a long time. There
would be a way. First, to experiment and
plan.
“Come let us go in before Mesdor
comes,” Tolian said, while standing up.
“We want her to think that we’re being good girls.”
“Well, aside from the plotting to
escape thing, we are being good girls,” laughed the faerie as she followed
Tolian in. “Oh, and Tolian, I’m still
not going to let you hurt yourself, I don’t care what you command me to
do. You’re going to have to come up with
a plan that doesn’t involve self-sacrifice or self mutilation.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“So,” asked Kreel, “do you want to
go back to the library?”
“No, we need to stay in the bedroom;
we’ll send Ristin to get our books and bring them here.”
They did just that. When Mesdor came in, they were lying on
Tolian’s bed, propped up on pillows and next to each other. Mesdor’s odor crept into the room with her. Her face was twisted in malice. She skulked into the room and walked over to
the curtains, and pulled them tightly.
Her bird-like gait was disturbing to watch.
“Hello, Mesdor,” greeted
Tolian. “How are you today?”
“Terrible as always, Goddess,” she
screeched hoarsely in response.
Tolian ignored her bad attitude and
returned her attention to her book.
“Kreel,” growled Mesdor, “the Moon
is almost rising, fool girl. Always make
certain that these curtains are closed.”
“I would have, Harpy,” defended
Kreel. “There are still two minutes
left.”
Mesdor scowled at them and
left. Tolian was always grateful when
Mesdor left.
“It’s time to go outside, for a
couple of minutes,” Tolian announced once she was satisfied that the cruel
harpy-faerie had departed.
She slid out of bed. “You can stay there if you like.”
“But, I...” then Kreel stopped herself. “I’m not following those rules anymore, am
I?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Then, I guess, I’ll stay here. Now, don’t be out there too long, you know
the warden will be back before long,” reminded the faerie.
As soon as she stepped outside, she
felt it—a surge of power moving deep inside her. There to the east a half a moon was rising
yet dimly in the daytime sky. It was
difficult to see, but she focused in on it immediately. It shone to her mind’s eye like a lamp of
silver brilliance, even in the hazy assure of the summer afternoon sky. A current seemed to bubble up from within her
soul. Flashes of ideas, of images. Fast flung impressions, vague like ghosts,
but enervating.
She decided to test to see if this
feeling of power translated to strength.
She grabbed at the Dark Moon Metal bracelet that imprisoned her powers
and tried to pull it off. She pulled as
hard as she could at it, but to no avail.
It wasn’t coming off. She stepped
over to the heavy, wrought iron table and attempted to lift it. It was far beyond her capacity to move. No, the Moon power she was feeling did
nothing for her strength.
A cloud passed before the moon.
“Damn,” she mumbled under her
breath. She wished the cloud had not
interfered with her experiment. She
silently projected a command to the cloud and it quickly passed the Moon
She turned her attention to the
table again. She calmly projected the
idea that she wanted the table to raise itself a few inches from the floor of
the balcony. Instantly, the table did exactly
as she had commanded. She smiled.
It was a start. She went back inside, satisfied with her
day’s work. I am going to do this,
she thought. Brythia, my love, I will
do this.
Copyright 2004, 2015 Diana Hignutt
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