Treespeaker (31 page)

 “You mean I’ll forget you?”

“No, you need to remember us, just as Varyd did. Arrakesh wills it. Nereya, on the other hand, would think you mad if you spoke of us to her.”

Jakan laughed a little, but quickly became serious. “Could you not fade my people’s memories again?”

“We could, but there’s still another reason.”

“What is it?”

Kel turned and pointed a taloned finger along the forest ridge. “That.”

Jakan peered in the direction Kel had indicated. His heart raced. In the distance, approaching fast, were the soldiers he had misdirected days earlier. He swung around to look into the forest. His stomach churned as he saw the unmistakable glow of a tear in the Veil. It was not in the same place as the one that had been there when he left. Beldror must have come back, and now the soldiers were returning. Even if he stopped Beldror from destroying the Veil completely, these men would still get in and undertake the violence they had threatened.

Jakan’s mind spun through possibilities. Could he fix the Veil and then go on? No, even if the Keshfahzan gave him enough strength, it would take too long and maybe Beldror would destroy the Veil before he got back to the village. If they went straight to the village, stopped Beldror and then let Kel and Cree deal with the soldiers when they got there? But that left the danger of villagers getting hurt in the fray. He would have to leave Kel and Cree to deal with these men and carry on with Varyd.

With a sigh, Jakan bowed his head at Kel. “I am forever in your debt.”

Kel laid a hand on Jakan’s shoulder. “May the strength of Arrakesh be with you.” He glanced at Cree and the two morshu rose into the air, wheeling over the ridge and vanishing.

Jakan waited as Varyd stood, then turned without a word and strode toward the forest, grim determination set on his face. Tonight, he knew, would be the night he faced Beldror for the last time. For he must stop him, or die trying.

The shock of what he saw hit Jakan like a blow to the stomach and he clutched at a tree for support. He wished he could open his eyes or shake his head and find it a vision, but one look at Varyd’s face proved it to be grim reality. He, too, had stopped with eyes wide, the blood draining from his face. Padhag Klen stood like a spectre in the gathering darkness. What evil had Beldror done already? Had they come too late?

Movement in the clearing caught Jakan’s attention. A figure, so tall that it could only be Beldror, strode toward The Tree, passing through a circle of leather bags filled with something that made them stand alone. As he walked, Beldror’s cloak glittered with blue stars, catching the light of the setting sun. Jakan’s eyes narrowed as he tried to make out what they were. His jaw clenched. Healing stones. The man had covered himself with healing stones. The profanity of it gnawed at Jakan’s mind.

A line of villagers straggled behind Beldror. Tears stung Jakan’s eyes as he saw them and he longed to run after them. Men, women and children walked into the clearing, their heads down, shoulders drooping. As they gathered, one stepped forward and directed them into a circle. At the sight of him, Jakan’s heart raced with anger. Since when did Grifadwyk give the orders?

Beldror stiffened. “What are you doing? I didn’t say anything about making a circle.”

Grifad’s loud voice carried clearly. “I thought you wanted us to see your great power. If we stand in a group, some will see better than others. This way, we can all see clearly.”

A slow grin grew on Beldror’s face. “For once in your miserable life, Grifad, you’re showing signs of having a brain. Fine. Go ahead.”

Jakan scanned the villagers as they shuffled into the circle, willing Dovan to be there. His heart rose as he found the grey head of Megda. Dovan had to be close to her. Disappointment burned his throat as he realised she was alone. He could not see his son anywhere.

“Calm down, Jakan.”

Varyd’s hand at his elbow made him jump. He hadn’t been aware of the tension in his body, but his hand on the tree had become a beating fist and his other hand clasped his mouth to hold in the cry of despair that struggled to leave it. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the tree, forcing himself to take some long slow breaths.

 “He’s not there, Varyd. Dovan’s not with them.”

“They’re not all here yet. Look.” Varyd jerked his head to a place beyond the clearing and to the right. Two figures crept towards the circle from behind Padhag Klen, where Beldror had little chance of seeing them. They wore cloaks with the hoods pulled over their heads, hiding their faces.

Jakan’s heart skipped a beat as he recognised the youthful gait of the taller figure. Joy, fear and anger tumbled through his mind. If Dovan had to hide himself from Beldror like this, he obviously felt himself in to be in danger.

Dovan.

Dovan stopped and looked around. The other man, too, stopped for a moment, then grabbed Dovan’s elbow and pulled him into the circle. Now Jakan could not see his son, hidden safely behind the tree. In a sudden movement the villagers joined hands.

Beldror raised his arms and looked at the sky. Light from the rising moon made the healing stones on his cloak twinkle. Satisfaction shone on his face.

“Let me show you who has the real power.” Beldror leered at the villagers. “Let me show you how weak your beloved Arrakesh really is.”

A cylinder of white light rose about Beldror’s feet and extended above his head. From his hands a blue shaft shot skyward, sizzling and sparkling as it hit the Veil.

Jakan’s heart raced again. He had to do something and soon. Squaring his shoulders, he stepped away from his hiding spot, but Varyd dragged him back.

Jakan glared at him. “Let me go.”

His friend shook his head, leaning over to Jakan so that he could hear as he whispered. “A minute ago, a lot of the villagers were under Beldror’s control. I could feel the strength of the spell. When they joined hands, something happened. He lost them, but he doesn’t seem to have noticed yet. Just wait and see what’s going on.”

Jakan frowned and turned back to watch the clearing. As he did a low chant began. It grew louder and louder until he could hear the words. “By moon’s silver water and sun’s golden fire, we will do the will of Arrakesh. We will be his strength.” The sound washed over Jakan. He could feel its force flowing over and through him, leaving him with a sense of empowerment.

 
Dovan?

Jakan felt a ripple of joy from his son.
Father. It is you. I thought I’d imagined it.
The chant continued to grow in strength.

Jakan smiled to himself.
I’m real. What’s happening?

Beldror is not the only one who can use the power of the stones.

At that moment, Beldror dropped his hands. The blue light disappeared and the cylinder faded. He shouted, loud enough to be heard over the voices. “Grifad, stop them. Stop them now.”

Grifad did not move. Instead, Jakan heard Grifad’s voice rise above the others. “By moon’s silver water and sun’s golden fire, we will do the will of Arrakesh. We will be his strength.”

Beldror’s face grew red, his mouth set in a grim line. “Now, Grifad.”

 He took a step towards Grifad, but Grifad raised his chin and continued. With a roar, Beldror leaned back, raising his hands to his chest. A ball of blue flame shot through the air and thudded into the ground at Grifad’s feet, dissolving into a plume of blue smoke. The chant died. Jakan could see Grifad shaking.

“Keep silent,” Beldror’s voice was cold, “or the next one strikes home somewhere around this circle of miserable beings.”

The villagers looked at each other in confusion. Jakan waited, his heart in his throat. The silence hung in the air, tinged with fear.

“Drop your hands.” Beldror’s eyes glinted in the moonlight. One by one, the villagers let their hands fall to their sides, casting each other apologetic glances.

Jakan turned to the tree he leaned against and put both palms to the trunk. After all this time blocked from Arrakesh, he wished he could do this with joy, but instead he felt only sadness. He shut his eyes and took long slow breaths, slipping into the stream of Arrakesh’s thoughts like a man walking into water. He thought he knew what he must do, but to have Arrakesh confirm it would give him strength. After all, this might be the last time.

As the soft whisperings soothed his worried mind, he opened his eyes and let out a long breath. He glanced back to the clearing. Beldror had moved back towards the stump of Padhag Klen and again stared skyward, his hands in the air. The cylinder rose and the blue beam of light hit the sky.

The villagers shuffled where they stood, fear etched on their faces. Jakan could see Megda looking about her, panic in her eyes. He turned to Varyd.

“Can you stop those fireballs he throws?”

Varyd put his hand against the tree and looked down, shaking his head. “They’re too fast.”

“Can you release the villagers from his grip?”

“Those who fight against him.”

Jakan tapped his chest. “And this shinya wards off magic?”

Varyd nodded a couple of times. Then a look of understanding came over his face and he gave a vehement shake of the head. “No. Jakan, I don’t know if … Don’t –”

“Do what you can.” Jakan gave a curt nod. He spun on his heel in the soft leaves and strode away towards the clearing, shaking off Varyd’s attempt to stop him and ignoring his hissed warning. His heart banged against his chest and his mouth went dry, as he began to chant in a quiet monotone. “By moon’s silver water and sun’s golden fire, we will do the will of Arrakesh. We will be his strength.”

Grifad heard him first. He turned and stared, his face pale. His eyes filled with a mixture of fear and something else Jakan could not believe. Relief. Could Grifad be relieved to see him? He gave a brief smile, more to himself than anyone, nodding at the other villagers, who one by one realised who was chanting. As he passed through the circle towards Beldror, who still stared at the sky, Jakan signalled behind his back for the villagers to hold hands.

Father, what are you doing? He’ll kill you.
Dovan’s thoughtspeak trembled through Jakan’s mind.

Jakan passed a soothing wave of energy to his son.
Don’t worry, Dovan.

He’s right. What you’re doing is most unwise.
Putak’s voice confirmed what Jakan had guessed about the identity of Dovan’ companion.

Jakan kept his eye on Beldror as he answered.
I’m not expecting him to greet me with open arms, Putak. I know what I’m doing.

Jakan glanced toward where Megda stood. Tears rolled down her face as she cast him a fearful smile. He smiled back and chanted louder. Reticent at first, the villagers joined in one by one. The sound grew into a crescendo until the power of the chant at last reached Beldror inside his protective circle of white light. The blue shaft began to waver and fade. Beldror lowered his arms in a slow, angry movement. He turned his head to glare at the villagers, but stopped at the figure in front of him. Jakan felt a surge of satisfaction at the flash of fear that passed over Beldror’s face, but the man soon recovered, his face twisting into its customary sneer.

“You.”

Jakan continued the chant, waving his hand upward to encourage the other villagers to chant louder. He said nothing, but gazed at Beldror without emotion.

“So you came back.”

Jakan’s eyes held Beldror’s, unflinching. Around him the chant lulled a little as the villagers strained to listen.

Beldror threw back his head and laughed. “I have the power of the stones behind me. You don’t think the pathetic whimpering of these imbeciles is going to stop me, do you?”

“Your own weakness will make you fail.”

Beldror raised his hands to his chest. A blue flame kindled between his palms. “You’re supposed to be dead, Treespeaker.”

 “But I’m not.” Jakan shrugged as he spoke, fighting to keep his voice steady.

Beldror waved a hand, dismissing Jakan’s words. “So, where did you go?”

“Where Arrakesh wanted me to go.”

 Beldror sneered. “Arrakesh! He didn’t save your son, for all your faith in him.”

Despite his knowledge to the contrary, Jakan flinched. That was why Dovan was hiding? He was supposed to be dead? Beldror’s satisfaction at the idea nauseated and angered him. He took a step towards him, his fists clenched. Without warning, Beldror hurled the fireball. It hit Jakan in the centre of his chest, ramming into him with a sickening thud. Silence fell.

Jakan felt the ball as a push on his chest and a slight tingle down his spine, just strong enough to make him take a small step backwards. It had been a calculated risk to rely on the shinya that Nereya gave him and it paid off. Beldror’s magic could not affect him. He heard the gasp of the villagers as they realised he was unhurt and let a smile play on his lips.

With an infuriated glare, Beldror let another ball shoot from his hands. Again, it pushed Jakan back a step, but did no harm. Jakan could see Dovan now. He stood, tense and apprehensive, Putak holding his arm to stop him moving. Jakan signalled the villagers to start chanting once more.

Beldror stood for a moment, confusion on his face. Then with a roar, he hurled himself at Jakan, sending him flying sideways into a bag of stones. It fell to the ground, its contents tumbling onto the forest floor. Jakan stiffened, ready for a physical fight, but Beldror had seen the bag fall and stopped. Leaning over Jakan’s body he lifted a rock, a grey river pebble and hurled it away, narrowly missing a villager. He jumped up and kicked at another bag and another. Grey pebbles crunched to the ground on top of a few healing stones. The silence of the forest reverberated with fear.