Lord of Eternal Night by Ben Alderson
4
The creature did not show himself for two nights. And with the time that passed, my anxiety blossomed into a wildflower. Silence bathed the castle both day and night. I hardly slept, constantly waiting for some sign of life. During the daylight the girl did not return, and nor did the beast during the night.
I was alone and it did not fill me with comfort.
Although the castle was seemingly silent and empty, the dining hall was refilled every day when I visited.
So I kept myself busy with eating and drinking. Hardly bothering to investigate the castle beside my chamber and the room that was filled with delicious food.
By the arrival of the third night, I was desperate. Enough to take the scrying bowl from the sack that had been left untouched since I had arrived. It was time to consult with the coven. For guidance, not sympathy at my predicament. Mother was not capable of the latter.
I made sure the door was locked, twice, before calling upon the element of water to open the window required for communication. With one hand gripped on the handle and the other pressed against the door, I pushed and twisted. But the door stayed shut.
It was the only privacy I could ensure. And using my magic was a risk I was willing to take.
Set upon the unmade bed, with the bowl between my crossed legs, I reached out to the water. I closed my eyes to connect with it better. Removing such a mundane sense always helped me connect with my magic. And water was the trickster of the elements. I needed to focus as much as I could for this to work.
Water hung in the air around me. Hidden from sight, but there nonetheless. With my palm held above the bowl, I urged the element to heed my call.
The cold trickle of moisture pooled above my hand in a sphere. It spun, an orb of azure that sloshed in a larger ball the more I pulled from the air around me. Once it swelled, the air dry to the taste, I urged the water into the scrying bowl where it settled. Not a droplet misplaced.
To scry was simple. Look upon the waters cast by a witch and that or who you most desire will be shown. I had done it a few times before. It was easier to visualise my goal in my mind’s eye before coaxing it into the water.
I stared at my face among the rippling blue. At my dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes glaring back at me. The same as my mother’s. “Show yourself,” I commanded, to the water, to Mother, to my reflection.
The command was simple. A snap of will that soon shattered the surface of the water until a face, not much different than my own, looked up at me.
“You should be preoccupied making the creature fall in love with you. I did not think it possible for you to have such time to waste this early on in your task. Why do you call on me so soon?”
I kept my face straight as I replied, “For council.”
“I do not like the sound of that, Jak.”
“Then you really will not like what I have to tell you.”
She knew instantly. I could see it from the slant of her mouth and the pinch of her stare. “Need I remind you that there is no room for failing your task, Jak.”
“I know the outcome well, Mother. This is not the reminder I have called you upon for. I need advice.”
Her laugh sent ripples through the water. “Entertain me, my son, please.”
“The creature, he has not shown himself since my arrival. I have searched this castle for him and have not found him. I am losing precious time.”
It was a lie. I had not searched for him, not thoroughly of course. For it was impossible to open most of the locked doors in this wretched place. Not without using magic. So I kept myself busy with eating and drinking. Hardly bothering to investigate the castle beside my chamber and the room which was always refilled with delicious food.
“You still do not know his name?” she asked.
I fisted my hands around the sheets and bit down on my lip. “I hardly remember what he looks like, but yes… I know his name.”
Marius. The strange girl had said it, at least this many days into my stay I hoped she had. For I was beginning to believe our interaction was no more than a dream. Only made real by the key that still sat in the door to my side. A reminder I was not going crazy. Not yet at least.
“Then you are on the road to failure. My son, bringing the end to our kind once and for all. Poetic I suppose, but I will not forgive you. Not in this life or the next.”
“Quiet the dramatics, Mother. Even from our distance it pains me to listen.”
She closed her mouth, silencing whatever comment she was about to snap at me.
“Tell me what I need to do…” I forced a plea into my voice. “What is to say he never returns, not until the final night?”
“Is the beauty I have given you not enough to capture his attention? He is a creature of lust, you should already have him in the palm of your hand.”
“Perhaps he is not what you first thought, Mother.”
The water in the scrying bowl began to boil at my comment.
“Do not dare think me a fool, Jak. I know what that beast is and soon, if you fail, so will every innocent soul beyond the boundaries of that prison. If you think his unbound hunger will not end this world, you are wrong. I know what he is, for it was my own ancestor that cursed him. And she was also your own. Do what you need to get an audience with him. That is up to you. Burn the castle down if you must. But do what is needed to end this. Or your life will have been a waste.”
I leaned back, away from the hot steam of the water as it sizzled from the bowl, muttering to myself. “I am sorry.”
Did I apologise to her, or myself for bothering to begin this conversation?
“Do not be sorry, for apologies will not help end this curse. Only action. Next time I see your face I want to hear positive news. Do not ruin my day again.”
The last I saw was her hand as it collided into the sister scrying bowl in her possession.
Our connection winked out as the remaining hot water splashed from the bowl and lathered over my legs.
Well that went well.I wasted no time in moving for the window and tipping the remaining water out of it. You should have known better to call on her. Next time, ask to speak with Lamiere. She would give you sympathy.
The pressure of my task weighed down on me, more so than before. I was desperate for attention. Just the thought of it alone nearly made a bubble of a laugh burst aloud.
A flicker of flamelight caught my attention. The candlelight danced proudly as if calling my name.
Burn the castle down.Mother’s words flooded through me.
I shrugged, reaching for the candle and dislodging it from the iron holder on the wall. With a single thought I could have commanded the flame to jump into the palm of my hand. But if this was to work, I could not have magic be to blame.
“Perhaps you can give good guidance, Mother…” I said, smiling to myself as I cradled the candle to the bed.
I had to make it look deliberate but mundane. I clambered back into the bed and held the candle beneath the sheer, lace curtain that framed each side of it.
It caught in a single breath. And the hungry flame turned into a wildfire that circled the bed. I dropped the candle on the mattress, not before blowing the flame out. I was stupid, not irrational. Clambering into the middle of the sheets, I waited as the fire grew around me. The wonderful heat only fuelled the madness that dwindled within me.
Desperate times call for equally desperate measures.