Flight Into Darkness Part 8

Jagu placed his metal Staff on Yephimy's desk and unscrewed the top. He tipped the shaft gently and out slid the charred fragments, bound into a whole with bands of golden wire.

Yephimy put out one hand and touched them reverently. "These should be kept here, with the saint's bones. Have you come to return it to the shrine?"

"You misunderstand our intentions, Abbot," said Jagu gravely. "We are on the trail of this daemon. We intend to use the Staff to destroy it."

"Will you give us Sergius's golden crook?" Seeing the look of alarm in the abbot's eyes, Celestine put the question they had traveled hundreds of miles to ask. "So that we can defeat the daemon and send it back to the Realm of Shadows?"

Yephimy let out a sigh. "I cannot answer for my brothers without consulting them," he said, "but I offer you the hospitality of the monastery while we discuss your proposition."

Jagu placed his hand on the abbot's arm, staring intently into his face. "This matter is urgent. I beg you, Abbot, do not discuss it too long."

Jagu and Celestine joined the monks for supper in the refectory, sitting with the abbot and the two beekeepers, Lyashko and old Osinin.

"We're self-sufficient here," said the abbot, gesturing to the food on the tables. "Everything you eat has been grown and harvested here, from the beetroot soup to the goats' cheese."

"This bread tastes so good," said Celestine, trying not to gulp it down too fast in her hunger.

"Try our special liqueur," said Brother Lyashko, lifting a stoneware bottle. "It's made with honey and mountain herbs."

"It's strong stuff for a young lad," warned the abbot. "But you must take a bottle when you leave; a drop or two will warm you up on cold nights."

"So the Clan Wars are finally at an end?" Jagu asked.

Yephimy nodded. "I never thought I would say it, but I give thanks to G.o.d for the Emperor's intervention. The Tielens have brought peace to our war-ravaged country at last. And now that the Drakhaoul is gone-"

"Did you see him in the forest?" asked Osinin suddenly as he slurped his soup. "You must have pa.s.sed him on the pilgrim's route."

"We saw no one," said Celestine, wondering if Brother Beekeeper's wits were wandering.

"That old fellow who came here yesterday," persisted Brother Osinin. "Spent all day doing research in the library. You remember, Abbot? The one with the peculiar eyes. Gives you the chills when he looks at you. Colder than a winter blizzard."

"Peculiar eyes?" Celestine was only half-listening, intent on mopping up the last of her soup with her bread.

"If you're referring to Magister Linnaius, Brother," the abbot said pensively, "he left rather suddenly. I don't think he even came to bid me farewell."

"Kaspar Linnaius was here?" Celestine was all attention. "Could you show us the books he was reading?"

A luminous blue dusk was settling over the monastery as Celestine and Jagu followed the abbot across the courtyard, and there was a crisp chill in the air. From the darkness of the forest came the distant, eerie hooting of owls.

Yephimy lit a lantern and led them past shelf after shelf of old leather-bound volumes to a little door at the far end, which he stooped to unlock with a key from a chain worn around his neck. "We keep our oldest, most precious ma.n.u.scripts in here," he said proudly.

Celestine stopped in the doorway to the little book room, sniffing. There was a hint of something lingering in the dusty air that reminded her of her father's study. She held up the lantern to illuminate the chained book lying open on the desk.

"The Glorious Life and Martyr's Death of the Blessed Serzhei of Kerjhenezh," said the abbot reverently. "This copy is hand-scribed; it dates from the time of Artamon." said the abbot reverently. "This copy is hand-scribed; it dates from the time of Artamon."

"But what's this?" Celestine held the lantern closer to the yellowed vellum pages; something glittered faintly in the glow. She gently touched it and brought her fingertips close to her face.

Jagu, looking over her shoulder, began to read by the flickering light. "'Armed with the might of the Righteous Ones, Serzhei banished the Drakhaouls from Rossiya, and bound them in a place of torment for all eternity. Yet there was one who still defied him and all the hosts of heaven.'" He looked up. "The text is referring to the Drakhaoul of Azhkendir, isn't it, Abbot?"

The abbot nodded.

"I think that there was a secret text hidden on this page," Celestine said, "and this pretty alchymical dust has been used by the Magus to reveal it." She brushed the dust from her fingers onto the open volume but, to her disappointment, nothing happened. "So Linnaius must have come here-on the Emperor's orders-to discover the place where Sergius imprisoned the remaining Drakhaouls."

"The Magus is still close by." Celestine rounded on Jagu as they crossed the courtyard. "Why can't we go after him?"

"Because he has a significant advantage over us," said Jagu flatly, "in that he can fly. And we can't."

"So you're just going to ignore the fact that he's-"

"Now just wait a moment." Jagu caught hold of her by the arm. "What is our mission?" he said sternly.

"To destroy the Drakhaoul."

"And our orders are-"

"To return directly. With or without the golden crook." A sullen, almost rebellious look had appeared in her eyes.

"So you were just about to abandon the mission and go chasing off after Kaspar Linnaius?"

She pulled away from him and stood, staring at him defiantly. "We've never been this close to him before, Jagu. And you saw for yourself that he's been researching the history of the Drakhaouls. Even the abbot was shaken."

He let out a sigh. Sometimes she could be so headstrong. "We've only a couple of days before the Dame Blanche Dame Blanche sails from Arkhelskoye. There's no time left." sails from Arkhelskoye. There's no time left."

"Have you forgotten?" She seized his left wrist and tugged back the sleeve, exposing the place where the magus had seared his mark on Jagu's wrist. "We made a pact together. In Saint Meriadec's. You vowed to hunt down the magus with me." In the dying light her eyes had darkened to the deep blue of the dusk. It was all he could do to resist her: her pale face upraised, pleadingly, to his.

"But that was before the Drakhaoul was set loose. This is an unprecedented situation. We both made another vow before G.o.d, remember? To act as the Knights of the Commanderie used to in olden times and fight the forces of evil."

"Fine." She let go of his wrist. "Follow the old chivalrous code if you must. But I say that we're making a grave mistake in not investigating this matter further."

The chanting of the monks of Kerjhenezh filled the whitewashed dome of the chapel with a dark sonority that sent little shivers through Jagu's whole body. The sound resonated to the very core of his being. The ancient hymns to Saint Sergius exuded a raw, untrained energy that, though they had nothing of the refined beauty or complexity of the choral singing at Saint Meriadec's or the cathedral of Saint Eu-stache, spoke of the harsh truths of life and death. Many of the monks had beards as white as the snow on the jagged mountaintops beyond the forest, yet their voices were strong and deep-throated, filled with a vigor that belied their years. There was no organ to support them, just the occasional ringing of bronze-voiced bells.

Candles of ochre beeswax made from Brother Osinin's hives filled the dark Azhkendi night with light and gave off a musky, honeyed smoke, warming the cold air. Their flames gilded the fading colors of the frescoes depicting the life of the saint, making the gold leaf of his halo and the feathery wings of the guardian angels gleam.

This is just how it must have been in Sergius's time. The soft glow of the candles dimmed, and Jagu blinked the tears away unashamedly. This was what he had been trying to explain to Celestine in the courtyard earlier. This was why he had joined the Commanderie in the first place; to be a warrior for good against the forces of evil. The soft glow of the candles dimmed, and Jagu blinked the tears away unashamedly. This was what he had been trying to explain to Celestine in the courtyard earlier. This was why he had joined the Commanderie in the first place; to be a warrior for good against the forces of evil.

Why didn't she understand?

Even here he could not stop thinking about her.

"Blessed Sergius, help me to learn to live with this temptation," he prayed silently. "Show me how to be true to my vows."

Had Sergius ever fallen in love? If so, then Argantel's chronicles of his friend's life left no mention of it. But Mhir, the patron saint of the Allegondan Commanderie, had given his life to save Azilis, the woman he loved.

Jagu thought that he had come to terms with his feelings for Celestine. Like all Guerriers, they had both taken a vow of celibacy when they joined the Commanderie. Yet the deeper they journeyed into Azhkendir, the more his willpower had begun to weaken. They had undertaken many missions for the Commanderie, yet this was the first on which they had been alone.

Is this a test? Is this what it really means to try to tread the same path as Saint Sergius? That without temptation to resist, there's no chance of growing spiritually stronger?

Or have I been deceiving myself all this time?

"This is excellent work, Kaspar." The Emperor leafed through the information that Linnaius had extracted from the monastery library, his eyes alight. He had never lost the boyish enthusiasm that Linnaius had found so engaging when he first began to work for the royal house of Tielen. But the Magus was far from happy about Eugene's obsession with summoning a Drakhaoul of his own. "Now that you have discovered the location of the Serpent Gate, what's to stop us going to search for it?"

"Eugene, please read again-with great attention-that page that I translated from Lord Argantel's The Life of the Blessed Sergius." The Life of the Blessed Sergius."

"Very well." Eugene began to read aloud. "'Prince Nagazdiel must never be set free. For if this prison is breached, the darkness will cover your world in perpetual night and he and his kindred will lay waste to the earth.

"'And then the seraph spoke to Sergius, saying, "To that end, the Warriors of Heaven have put a seal on the Door to the Realm of Shadows, that can only be breached by a crime so horrible that none would dare to undertake it. For only by the sacrifice of the Emperor's children in that far-distant place can that Door ever be opened again and the dread Prince Nagazdiel released. And no mortal would dare stoop to such a base and inhuman act."' "He looked up at Linnaius. "Surely this is nothing more than one of those ancient prophecies that sound doom-laden, yet are merely a warning to the curious?" He laughed. "Even if they could break the cypher, who would go such lengths as to try to kidnap my daughter, Karila, and transport her thousands of leagues away to some obscure island that may-or may not-exist?"

Linnaius sighed. Eugene was right. The text had lain hidden for centuries; who else had the skills to decipher it, let alone make use of the information? Yet still he wished that Eugene would be content with what he had already achieved and not constantly yearn for more.

CHAPTER 4.

"This mission has been a failure." Celestine threw down her heavy pack. "We've traveled all this way only to return empty-handed."

"Not entirely so." Jagu held up the stoneware bottle Brother Beekeeper had given him as a parting gift.

"The monastery's life-preserving liqueur? Strong enough to strip paint, I'll wager." They had endured bedbugs, inedible food, and all kinds of weather on their quest, only to be rewarded with a bottle of the local eau-de-vie. eau-de-vie.

"It's disappointing that Abbot Yephimy was unwilling to part with Sergius's crook," said Jagu distantly, "but not entirely unexpected."

"Disappointing?" Sometimes Jagu's refusal to show his feelings could be so irritating. Sometimes Jagu's refusal to show his feelings could be so irritating.

"Remember what the Maistre told us: Use every opportunity to record the lay of the land for future reference. Now that we know the monastery from the inside, we can plan our next move."

"To steal the crook?" She was surprised that Jagu would even suggest such a thing.

"The monks have lived under the Drakhaoul's shadow for so long that they have become blind to its powers." He took a sip from his water bottle. "They don't realize the danger they've set loose on the rest of the world in driving it from Lord Gavril's body."

"But just the two of us? Without backup?"

He shook his head. "Of course not. We'll need a whole detachment to pull this off."

"A detachment of pilgrims?" The image was so odd that it almost made her smile.

"And a swift cutter waiting in the cove nearby for a quick-" He broke off, as if listening.

"What is it?"

She only caught the flash of movement out of the corner of one eye. Jagu gave a m.u.f.fled grunt and crumpled to the ground.

"Jag-" Her scream was stifled as someone clamped a hand over her mouth. Next moment, she was forced to her knees. Her unseen attacker pulled back her hood and, grabbing her by the chin, yanked her head upward. She heard him let out a low whistle of surprise-and then, with brutal swiftness, he pushed her onto her back on the rough ground. She was aware as she fell that another man was ripping open her bag, searching for anything worth stealing, she guessed. The book. The book. The precious book was concealed inside, wrapped in a spare shirt. The precious book was concealed inside, wrapped in a spare shirt.

"Faie!" She tried to call to her for help, but the pressure of the man's hand only increased. The fall had knocked the breath from her body. Her a.s.sailant forced himself on top of her, trying to subdue her with the weight of his body. He had guessed she was not a boy. She fought and struggled as, with his free hand, he tugged at her clothes. He was too strong for her.

Dizzy, angry, she attempted to knee him in the groin-but her desperate struggles only seemed to excite him the more. She could not even reach the little knife she wore tucked into her boot. And she could feel his breath against her throat, hot and panting, as he fumbled beneath her cloak, trying to tug down her breeches.

"Faie!" she cried again in terror. And suddenly the twilit glade was filled with a dazzle of shimmering light. Her attacker paused. The moment's distraction gave Celestine her chance. Up came her knee again, jabbing hard into his groin with all the fury she could muster. He fell back, gasping. And in that moment, she felt the Faie's protecting arms around her. Bathed in the pure, white light of her guardian spirit, she arose, staring down at her attacker. The Faie gave her strength, the Faie's power blazed through her eyes, flowing through her body until she felt as if she were glowing with aethyrial radiance. she cried again in terror. And suddenly the twilit glade was filled with a dazzle of shimmering light. Her attacker paused. The moment's distraction gave Celestine her chance. Up came her knee again, jabbing hard into his groin with all the fury she could muster. He fell back, gasping. And in that moment, she felt the Faie's protecting arms around her. Bathed in the pure, white light of her guardian spirit, she arose, staring down at her attacker. The Faie gave her strength, the Faie's power blazed through her eyes, flowing through her body until she felt as if she were glowing with aethyrial radiance.

Slowly, she raised her hand, pointing accusingly at the robber. She could see him clearly at last, crouching like a beast at bay, his face twisted, his bloodshot eyes bulging. She took a step toward him and saw, to her satisfaction, that he cringed away from her, one shaking hand rising to shield his eyes from her brilliance.

She heard his accomplice give an incoherent shout of fear. She took another step toward her would-be violator. Her fingers tingled with the Faie's power.

"Celestine, no!" no!" Jagu's hoa.r.s.e voice broke through the trance. "Don't do it!" Jagu's hoa.r.s.e voice broke through the trance. "Don't do it!"

"He deserves to die." She heard another voice, clear and hard as ice. It seemed to issue from her lips. She heard another voice, clear and hard as ice. It seemed to issue from her lips.

"You promised me." She saw Jagu slowly push himself to his knees. His head drooped. "You gave me your word. "You gave me your word." He staggered to his feet, leaning against a tree trunk.

"You're all right." She slowly lowered her arm. A surge of relief flooded through her and the cold, murderous rage melted away; all she wanted was to run to his side.

Her attacker began to crawl away into the shadows; the accomplice had already fled.

One lurching step at a time, Jagu made his way toward her. Blood dripped from a jagged gash on the side of his head. His arms reached out and held her. Suddenly she felt faint and sick, and she clung to him as if he were a rock in a pounding sea. The aethyric light slowly dwindled as the Faie silently faded back into the book.

Jagu felt Celestine trembling as he held her, her face pressed against his shoulder. Dizzy from the blow, he closed his eyes, trying to calm his agitated mind, to think logically.

She's safe. That was all that mattered. But no thanks to him. That was all that mattered. But no thanks to him.

"I'm so sorry. I was careless," he said. "I let my guard down."

"It wasn't your fault, Jagu," she said, her voice m.u.f.fled in the thick folds of his robes. "They prey on poor pilgrims. They're sc.u.m."

A moment ago, she had dominated the glade, her eyes blazing with light, possessed by her guardian spirit. Now she was just a frightened, vulnerable girl again. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but the guardian spirit had saved them both. If it hadn't appeared to protect Celestine, he could not bear to think what the robbers might have done to her as he lay unconscious among the tangled tree roots. And yet were anyone to learn the secret of her innocuous-looking Lives of the Saints, Lives of the Saints, the Inquisition would not hesitate to destroy her. the Inquisition would not hesitate to destroy her.

Celestine wanted to wash herself clean, to rid herself of the taint of her attacker's pawing hands, the lingering stink of his sweat, but Jagu's wound needed treating first. She went over to the stream and doused her handkerchief in the cold water, wringing it out. Then she began to dab at the congealing blood.

"What did he hit you with? A tree branch? It must have been quite a blow to lay you you out cold." She chattered away, intent on distracting him, aware of the need to distract herself too. "It's swelling up. You'll have an impressive bruise there soon. At least the bleeding's stopped; it's quite a superficial wound. But he must have whacked you pretty hard." There were some basic medical supplies in her bag. She took out her little pot of arnica cream and smoothed some onto the contusion. out cold." She chattered away, intent on distracting him, aware of the need to distract herself too. "It's swelling up. You'll have an impressive bruise there soon. At least the bleeding's stopped; it's quite a superficial wound. But he must have whacked you pretty hard." There were some basic medical supplies in her bag. She took out her little pot of arnica cream and smoothed some onto the contusion.

"You're going to have a headache," she said. "If you can get a fire going, I'll brew you an infusion of willow bark to dampen the pain. We don't have to worry about catching our supper tonight; we've plenty of cheese, honey, and bread left from what the brothers gave us."

"The Staff!" Jagu started up. "Is the Staff safe?"

In all the confusion of the attack, they had both forgotten their sacred treasure. But in the twilight, Jagu found it still lying where he had left it. The robbers had been after more valuable plunder than a priest's staff.

Jagu threw pinecones on the fire and as they burned, sending up blue smoke into the night, their strong, aromatic scent seemed to cleanse the air. Celestine sat hunched, cradling her mug of tea in both hands, gazing into the crackling flames.

What was going through her mind? She looked so distant, her gaze so abstracted that he wanted to put his arm around her, to comfort her. But the danger was past and he no longer had any excuse. Yet every time he remembered how she had clung to him, her body pressed close to his own, he felt an ache of desire so strong it almost overwhelmed him.

"Why is Linnaius so interested in the Drakhaoul?" she said suddenly. So she had been thinking about the Magus again. "Lord Gavril is the Emperor's prisoner, condemned to life imprisonment in the Iron Tower. He's no longer a threat." She tossed on another pinecone, watching it flare into bright flame in the heart of the blaze. "And to use his Dark Arts to pry secrets from that chained book in the monastery library... it stank of sorcery in there."

Jagu forced himself to ignore the confusion of feelings twisting his heart. Tracing and defeating the Drakhaoul was the aim of their mission, maybe the most dangerous one they had ever undertaken together.

"Yet if the Drakhaoul were to take a new mortal host, then that man would be a real threat to the Emperor," he said. "Eugene barely escaped with his life from their last encounter. He'll bear the scars to the grave."