39

Miraveh couldn't sleep. The thought of seeing Daras' face joining the countless others that haunted her left her feeling sick. She wasn't ready for that and wasn't certain she would ever become ready for it. Besides, they didn't have the time to waste upon catching a few, fitful hours of rest. Mandelar had said they had days, at the most, before the Hunters learned the secret of portals and Miraveh erred on the side of expecting them to learn sooner, rather than later.

"We mix the refugees into threes. One Witch, one elf, one goblin. Lean into each of their different views on magic." She saw the irony in that. The Hunters O' The Dark worked in threes, but Miraveh had different reasons. She needed a rounded defence. "The Hunters will assault from outside the stronghold and move inwards."

"How do you know?" Turotara, by Miraveh's side, gazed out beyond the shattered gates of the Velaurian castle. "If they can use these portals, why don't they just open one in the middle of the castle?"

"Because they won't be used to it. They aren't incautious. They are an army and armies plan. Attacking from outside is easier and less fraught with unknowns." She pointed to mounds of rubble that ran along the broken walls. "The goblins can manipulate stone, from their days in their underground caverns. They can bring down any unstable structures. The elves are connected to the forests, they can use the timber laying around. The Witches can use debris as missiles. We use a rolling strategy. One group defends as the others retreat. And then again and again."

She pointed to various points that the defenders could use for cover, leading back to the inner wall, which led to the courtyard that stood before the remains of the keep. Turning, she almost ran into Brothimir, the Hunter acting like a subservient dog, never far from Miraveh's side. Stepping to the side, she ignored him. She knew exactly what he wanted to say. What he wanted her to do. She could feel the presence, far below, but wanted nothing to do with it.

Her hand clutched at the ring, dangling from a string of leather about her neck, and concentrated once again. No matter how hard she tried, or for how long, or how often, she heard nothing from the Phrenica of Jukunashar. The Phrenica had said the ring was among the first attempts at enchanting objects after magic had returned. Miraveh considered that the enchantment had failed.

"What about the remaining relics?" They passed back into the courtyard where the refugees had set up a makeshift encampment, fires burning, goats roasting on hastily constructed spits. Turotara smiled at the results of her hunting efforts. "They could prove both useful and a hinderance. We'd have to protect those who hold them."

"The relics are a last resort. I don't want anyone becoming tainted by those things if I can help it." Miraveh stopped, turning in a circle and gazing up toward the battlements of the inner wall. "We set up four redoubts, in the corners, tight to the walls. If we make a stand in the centre, we chance becoming surrounded. This way, we split their forces and attack them from all sides."

"With nowhere to run should they overcome us." Turotara frowned, jerking her head toward the keep. "We should keep retreating into the keep, make them pay for every inch they take with blood."

"There is nowhere to run." With a bare thought, Miraveh sent out a long, undulating line of her purple magic. She didn't rush it, making a point. As the magic touched the furthest side of the keep's wall, a chunk of stone fell, causing heads to turn. "The keep isn't stable enough. We aren't fighting a hand-to-hand battle here. This will be a clash of magic. Anything is a weapon."

As she released her magic, the purple energy fading and dissipating, Miraveh caught sight of Sialira, watching from the opening that led from the courtyard of the keep to the training yard and stables to the side. She stood, hands clasped before her, looking towards Miraveh and Miraveh knew exactly what she wanted. She wasn't ready for that. Not yet.

The sight of Sialira held Miraveh's eyes for a little longer, but she turned away, walking through the group of campfires, watching the refugees eating the first proper meal they had had in some time. She saw smiles upon drawn, gaunt faces. Smiles she had not seen on many of them since she, Sialira and Daras had burst in upon them in the warehouse at Comragon. They all had fresh water, too, brought up from the stronghold's well. Undamaged and untouched by any foulness that the Hunters could have brought on their expeditions here.

Expeditions to gain relics for their Karline. Miraveh had never taken the time to examine any of the relics she had held, events taking over, limiting her time and attention. She had thought the relics were the bones of some powerful Witch from the time before magic had become torn from the world. Since arriving here, she had taken the time to examine one of the relics in the hands of those strong enough to wield them.

They weren't bone, that Miraveh could tell, though they were made of something similar. It appeared that use of the relics by the Karline had a corrupting effect. All four remaining relics had the same, blackened surface, the relic almost melted into something unrecognisable. Yet, with a scrape of a knife blade, Miraveh could see something of what the relics once were. A shimmer. Tiny. Imperceptible without a close look, but a shimmer nonetheless, seen only until the black corruption took hold once more. Much like the corruption of Xirasir had covered much of the Northern lands.

The relics came from something and that something lay beneath their feet, deep under the stronghold of the Velaurian Order. She didn't know if anyone else felt that presence, but she certainly did. It called to her, much like the Seeker's Urge had brought her, eventually, to Comragon and the little goblin girl, Peknida. Another reason Miraveh avoided Sialira.

The girl, like Sialira, represented something Miraveh wanted to avoid, for the moment. She had far too much to do, to prepare for, and dealing with loss and the future were things that could wait. Either they would successfully beat back the Hunter forces and Miraveh could give Sialira and Peknida her attention, or they would all die and the point would become immaterial. Miraveh had ushered the goblin girl to Sialira's side, for the girl's protection and for Sialira to have someone, something to care for. Sialira needed the company, even if that company was not Miraveh.

"If all of these people had relics, they would stand a better chance!" The voice of Brothimir brought Miraveh back to the present. He sounded insistent. "It only stands to reason we should use all the resources available to us and the relics are a great resource."

"Miraveh has already said 'no'. Unless you would like to fight her for her position?" Turotara had almost lifted Brothimir from his feet, clutching the collar of his jacket. She nodded towards Miraveh's sword. "You could fight her with magic, but I'm pretty certain she's stronger than you. Or, how about with swords? You know she's practically a master of the sword, don't you? To be honest, I don't fancy your chances either way."

"I don't want to challenge anyone, but I simply don't understand!" Brothimir brushed down his clothes and adjusted his jacket as Turotara released him. He turned to Miraveh with a plea to his expression. "Look at them! Really look! You're asking them to fight well-trained Karline with relics. They don't stand a chance! But, if they had relics of their own, if you had one, the fight would not prove so one-sided. Consider it! You can feel it, can't you? The presence beneath our feet?"

"I can." She didn't reach out with her magic, but she wanted to. Ever since using a relic for the first time, she had never wanted anything more. "But I will not allow the relics to corrupt these people. I will not!"

"The relics don't corrupt people! The people corrupt the relics!" Brothimir threw up his hands, shaking his head as though he had said the most obvious thing in the world. "The relics are neither good nor evil. They mirror those they bind with. Someone pure of heart would make a pure relic. I thought you understood that?"

Miraveh hadn't and she cursed herself for not learning more about them. As with everything, she had blundered ahead, not thinking, not listening, expecting everything to fall into her lap. Now she felt torn. If Brothimir spoke true, and she did not, could not, trust that he did so, then that would change everything. In truth, she had thought this stand, that they prepared for, was doomed to failure. She simply could not roll over and die, though.

She reached out, now, with her magic. Allowing the energy to pass through the ground at her feet, down through rock and stone, until she reached the presence. Miraveh could never describe how it felt, not if she lived a thousand lifetimes. It felt like power, pure power, but power contained. By what, she couldn't tell, but that power felt as bound to this place as the relics felt bound to their owners. And Miraveh felt an overwhelming sense of sadness. Of loneliness. A loneliness so strong, Miraveh almost collapsed to her knees as she felt it. A loneliness that had lasted an age, or more.

"Miraveh. You can't avoid this any longer." Strong hands held Miraveh upright, Turotara's hands, but it was Sialira that spoke, the goblin girl, Peknida, stood behind the young Witch, head bowed. "It's time."

Without saying another word, Sialira turned and began to head back to the opening to the training yard and stables. Miraveh watched as Peknida fell in behind Sialira, walking two steps for every one stride of the young Witch. Turotara shook her head, as though to tell Miraveh not to fight the inevitable and, for once, Miraveh agreed. This needed to happen.

-+-

The flames of the funeral pyre burned high into the night sky, sparks flying like faeries dancing and floating toward the stars. Everyone had gathered around, preparations for the coming attack halted while they bid goodbye to the thief that had more heart than anyone Miraveh had ever known. She wished she felt more. She wished that she could cry and howl, but her thoughts remained on the coming Hunters O' The Dark and the presence she felt below.

Sialira reached out, without looking, and caught Miraveh's hand and Miraveh looked down at the young Witch to see a smile upon her tear stained face. A sad smile and Miraveh had an idea why she smiled. Daras would have enjoyed the attention. After a moment, Miraveh tried to release her hand from Sialira's, but the girl held her tighter. She looked up to Miraveh.

"Say something." She glanced around at the bowed heads of those in attendance before turning her eyes back to Miraveh. "They are scared. I'm scared. You need to tell them it's going to be alright."

"It's not going to be alright." In the flames, Miraveh could see the shrouded form of Daras. She had not managed to save him, how could she possibly hope to save anyone else? "We're all going to die. The only thing we can do is make it difficult for the Hunters. Show them that not everyone will go quietly to their deaths."

"Say something!" For the first time in days, Miraveh heard that haughty arrogance from Sialira. The tone that said she knew better than anyone.

She could feel it, then, the weight of eyes looking to her for answers. Looking to her for direction and leadership. At Miraveh's flanks, Turotara nodded and Brothimir shrugged. At least he understood the futility of it all. Miraveh had made it clear she would not investigate the presence below and take a new relic, even though she reconsidered that every other moment.

The funeral pyre crackled and Miraveh wanted only to return to preparing for the fight to come. There were redoubts to build, cover to bolster, stones and splinters of wood to place in strategic positions, ready for the goblins and elves to use in their defence. Taking precious time to talk to these people felt like a waste. Yusuvur would not waste the time given to her.

"I ... Daras was ..." She coughed, licked her lips and tried to avoid the eyes watching her. She raised her voice. "I didn't go to Comragon to save you. I went to find one person. A very important person that could save the world and keep it safe. The rest of you I was ready to abandon."

"Miraveh." Turotara's hand gripped Miraveh's shoulder, whispering in Miraveh's ear. "Maybe we should save this until I teach you some motivating speech?"

"No. Daras spoke the truth when he needed to, bluntly in most cases. That's what I'm doing." She patted Turotara's hand before continuing. "I'm not a good person. Daras was. A thief, for certain, but a good man. A kind man and his kindness was infectious. He and Sialira persuaded me to help you all and ... and I'm glad I did."

Now Sialira released Miraveh's hand and Miraveh began to walk around the pyre. She made a point of looking in the eyes of every single person gathered there. Mandelar gave Miraveh a nod. Zeyal, Beneiri, Vendurthia, Grynea, four of those originally given relics. Lakushur had not made it through the portal, back in the tall grass, and, of the four, Beneiri had lost an arm in that first fight. Miraveh continued until she returned to Sialira, Peknida standing slightly behind.

"I'm not going to lie to you now. I don't think we can win." Miraveh saw Turotara turn away, a groan muffled by her hand rising to her face. "But, there is something. A possibility that I think is dangerous. I'm sure many of you have felt the presence below us. It is the source of the Karline relics. I fear the relics. The ones we have used are dark, evil things, but I am told that doesn't mean they have to be."

Brothimir started to step forward, his mouth opening as though he were about to confirm what Miraveh said, but a glare forced him to step backwards. She didn't need his help. For her part, Sialira's expression hadn't changed. She allowed Miraveh to say what she needed to say without opinion or doubt. At times, Miraveh had trouble understanding that girl. One moment talking down to Miraveh, the next treating her like a beloved sister. In this moment, Miraveh felt like Sialira's daughter, if anything. Languishing beneath a parent's pride.

"Go on." Now Sialira reached behind her, taking Peknida's hand in hers and pulling the goblin girl to stand beside her. "They need to know."

"I'm asking you, all of you, whether you want to take that chance? The relics can change you, they can darken your soul, but they give great power. Power we desperately need." Whispers began to pass between the assembled people and Miraveh could not hear how they felt. "We could gain the power to win this fight, but end up losing ourselves. What say you? Do you wish to take that chance?"

They mumbled, at first, passing glances between each other, hands reaching out, murmuring. Then, Mandelar said 'aye', followed by a goblin man, then an elf. More and more of them until the word 'aye' reverberated around the training yard. Miraveh had expected some to balk at the idea and, in one part of her mind, she felt a little disappointment grow. She had wanted, expected them to turn away from the relics in fear.

Miraveh didn't need to look at Brothimir to feel the smug sense of victory emanate from him. He had got what he wanted. At least, he had got Miraveh to consider what he wanted, though Miraveh felt certain she would never allow him to touch a relic ever again. He was still a Hunter O' The Dark. He didn't deserve anything but a swift death, as far as Miraveh felt concerned. At least, part of her felt that way. In some ways, Brothimir had started to become less of an enemy than an unwanted adviser.

"Turotara, take him and see what reaching the relics entails. He said it needs three people to gain a relic, before. Tell me if he is lying." Even before Miraveh had finished talking, Turotara had grabbed Brothimir by his collar. "Let me know what we need to do and I'll continue preparing the defence."

"You won't regret this." Brothimir almost sounded giddy as Turotara began to drag him away. He squirmed to look back to Miraveh, grinning. "This will change everything!"

A sudden crack caused Miraveh to spin on her heel. One of the old timbers used to make Daras' funeral pyre had snapped, causing one side of the pyre to collapse inward, sending gouts of flame and firefly sparks racing into the sky. That appeared to break the tension among those gathered to say goodbye to the man and people soon started to turn away, passing glances towards Miraveh and Sialira.

It felt final. Real. As though Miraveh could not believe Daras were truly gone until now. She had only known him a short time but, in that time, she had come to depend upon the man. She had learned from him, come to like him very much. Another gone. She had liked and depended upon people before. All were gone. All except Sialira and Miraveh couldn't help but wonder how much longer she would survive.

"Peknida, please find Mandelar and ask what we can do to help the defence." Sialira released the goblin girl's hand and Peknida bobbed her head before scurrying away. "When are you going to tell her about the part she has to play? She's terrified, poor thing. I think she thinks we've enslaved her for nefarious purposes."

"Not yet. Right now it stays between those of us who already know." Miraveh began to step away but Sialira blocked her movement. "We can't afford anyone to be distracted. If she, or anyone else finds out who, what, she is, they'll be thinking about her instead of their duties. She's only one Candidate. There are sure to be others."

"I'm sure there are, but she is here. She is young, only recently returned to a world very different from the one she knew, before the Slumber. She is so afraid. Perhaps letting her know of her destiny could make her stronger in will?" Sialira gathered Miraveh's arm, encircling it with her own, and began leading them away. She glanced only once over her shoulder at the pyre. "Do as you said in your speech. Don't lie. Tell the truth, even if that truth is painful, as Daras would have done."

Miraveh considered it. Her reasoning, she felt, remained sound. The last thing they needed was a distraction within the ranks. She almost laughed as she thought that. As though this rag-tag bunch of emaciated Witches, elves and goblins could be ever considered an army. Still, she had no idea how the refugees would react to such news. That they had a Candidate to become one of the Pillars of the Gods, destined to hold back the encroaching deities from Dred-al, among them.

"Soon. I'll speak with her and her alone. I promise." Back within the courtyard of the keep, Miraveh tried to pull away from Sialira. She had too much to do. "Is there something else?"

"Yes. In the spirit of telling the truth, no matter how painful it may be, I ..." Sialira moved to face Miraveh, grabbing both of her hands and looking up to Miraveh with a deep frown marring her forehead. "I've been in contact with Yusuvur. The whole time. I'm sorry, she made me vow not to tell you, but I've not heard from her in days and ... and after Daras, I don't want any secrets between us. It's not what he would have wanted."

Miraveh pulled away. In truth, it wasn't unexpected. Sialira was Yusuvur's appointee to Miraveh's training. It still came as a shock. To think that, all along, Yusuvur had known where they were and what terrible situations they had faced and had never come to their aid. All the events up to now could have proven far more simple had Yusuvur shown herself and helped, and now Miraveh's anger began to grow.