‘Karnobog, lord of the clan, help me!’ she cried out, but there was nothing except the roar of Lord Bethrayal. If only she could have severed the link; but the old gods were clever and had worked their plans well. And, try as she might, Iwa couldn’t break their spell. Deep within her Lord Bethrayal’s power rose up. No. She had to fight against it.
Do you not want to rule? The voice of the stones sounded in her ears. You could have everything you desire. All shall be yours to command: every root, every blade of grass bowed down before you.
The craft always turns against its caster. The words came to her as she struggled against the voice of the stones. In the end you’ll eat me up until there is nothing left but your will.
Do you really think that you could ever defeat us? the voice of the stones chuckled. Take us to your heart, rule in our name: you could be powerful, more powerful than the Polish lords in their halls.
But what of the forest? Iwa struggled as the stones brought forward visions of her seated on a golden throne, ranks of men and Karzełek bowed before her. I don’t want to rule. I don’t want any of this.
And what will happen to your precious forest should you fail? The vision of the temple faded. Instead she could see Krol Gawel seated on his throne, the clan bowed before him as they were led off in chains. She could see the trees cut away, cleared by axe and flame, and the river choked with silt. More woyaks would come, the land would be soaked with blood as they carved out kroldoms in the forest, until all that was left was a vast expanse of wheat rippling like water in the wind. And she could see Yaroslav laid out on an altar as Wislaw drew a sacrificial knife above him.
Is that what you want? the voice of the stones cried out. At least under your dominion the trees would survive, the krol offers nothing but blood and death.
Leave me alone. Iwa closed her fist about the totem, pressing the ivory into the palm, but it was too late. The power of Lord Bethrayal flooded over her, drowning out her voice.
Then let me serve you, a voice rang inside her head – it was Wislaw. Let me serve you if she will not, this forest wretch. I have searched for you. It was I who guided the woyaks here in the hope that I might seek you out. I have given so much in the quest to find you, made so many sacrifices.
You know nothing, the voice of the stones replied inside her head. Do you think that we care for your petty meddling? You have trifled with forces beyond your understanding, little man.
Make me a channel for your will, oh lords, Wislaw pleaded, and I shall serve you faithfully.
You seek only to serve yourself, the stones answered. You managed to stumble upon half truths, but you know nothing and understand less. Do you think you could ever serve us? No, if this forest girl will not bend to us of her own free will, then we shall bind her to us forever.
As you did to me. Miskyia was there, her voice bitter as she wove a spell of protection over Iwa. It was almost too late. Iwa felt herself slipping away, a tiny figure all but drowned out under the power of the old gods.
Do you think that you could ever deceive us, insect? the voice of the stones spat.
‘Save yourself!’ Grunmir yelled, ‘Get out whilst you still can!’
Iwa stayed rooted to the spot, her lips spinning a song of power as she called forth all the magic she could in one final attempt to break the bridge.
‘What are you doing?’ Grunmir backed away as Iwa sang, the words flowing smoothly from her lips, but it wasn’t enough. She felt her powers failing, the last traces of the craft lost as the might of Lord Bethrayal washed over her, and soon there would be nothing left of her, her body nothing more than a vessel for his power.
Did you ever think that you could defeat us? the stones chuckled as the last of Iwa’s song disappeared from her lips. You could never have broken the link into this world.
Let me be a channel for your will. Wislaw worked what magic he could, but the stones ignored him. His craft was not strong enough for such a task. The Lord Bethrayal was too powerful now, the song of the stones reaching out for him to welcome him back to his world.
Now, Iwa realised, it had to be now whilst Lord Bethrayal was flowing into her. Quickly she began to form her magic about her. She could almost see it, her power churning around her like a great storm. New spells, raw and hungry, called into being by her craft. Yet she had to control them. Her breath stilled as she worked a new magic. She didn’t quite understand how, but her craft became calm, the spells focused, awaiting her command.
Still the power of Lord Bethrayal flooded into her. Her spells glowed with a newfound force as she soaked up his energy. She could see herself, the most powerful of all, Lord Bethrayal bound to her service. Then the forest would be safe. Her power would extend over the whole land and none would dare come to harm it, not even the Poles with all their woyaks and krols. Yaroslav would be safe too, a lord amongst the men. She could see him, sitting by the great clan fire as all did him homage.
And together they would rule over this place, the forest sinking away from the sight of men until it
