‘Yet they were all deceived, for in those final hours the Lord Bethrayal took an ancient gem, cut from one of the deepest mines where even the Karzełek feared to tread, and wove his magic deep into it so that his power would never entirely be forgotten. It is his only link with the world, a tiny foothold through which he hoped to return.’
‘Couldn’t this Lord – I mean your master,’ Iwa corrected herself hastily, peeved at not being able to utter his name when Miskyia did so freely, ‘use the gem anyway?’
‘No, he is now condemned to prowl the outer dark. The power of the gem must be wielded by a Molfar or somebody who has the craft so that they can act as a bridge between the gem and the Lord Bethrayal. I do not think that his enemies knew about it or else they would have sought it out and destroyed it long ago. Nobody knows what next happened to the gem. All knowledge of it was swept away from the memory of men and soon it was as if the thing had never been.’
‘The magic of the stones couldn’t search out this totem and so they needed you to look for it,’ Iwa blurted out, pleased with her own intelligence.
‘I scoured the forest for many years trying to find it. I knew that the gem had been set into an amulet, but nothing more. The woyaks blundered across it and handed it to that fool priest of theirs, as if it were nothing more than a child’s trinket. Ah, if only I were powerful enough to face them myself, but as long as they have the amulet then I am lost.
‘They are wicked men, nothing but the flotsam of a hundred petty wars. How easy it would be for my master to wipe them out if only he could enter this world fully. It takes all my power just to conjure him here for a short while and, even then, the link with this world is weak.’
Suddenly, Iwa remembered the two dead woyaks in the woods. Now she realised what had been missing that night. She could clearly see the terror in the faces of the survivors, hear the note of horror in Grunmir’s voice, but they hadn’t been surprised. It was no natural death, yet nobody asked for an explanation, as if they had witnessed such deaths before. ‘Your master has killed woyaks before.’
‘They robbed him of the amulet and he will have it back, even if he has to kill this krol of theirs and all his woyaks. That is what you want too – right?’ Miskyia placed her hand on Iwa’s head. ‘I was there the night the woyaks raided your camp and I saw you run into the river. It was my magic that made you turn back. If only I could have helped further, but my powers are not strong enough to take on that fool priest, not when he has the amulet. He does not know what he has, but his craft feeds off the spells locked away in that talisman. No doubt he hasn’t the vaguest understanding of the amulet or how it helps him. If he did, then he would be a fool not to fling it into the deepest mire, for its power will gradually consume him, until there is nothing left but dust. The amulet was meant for a sovereign mage, not some petty trickster. So it appears that we have an enemy in common.’
Iwa paused and looked at the water as it lapped dully around the shore. ‘Yes,’ she whispered, ‘we do.’ As she looked into the waters a vision stirred. She saw herself leading Jezi Baba through the camp with the hunters bowed before her and the decapitated heads of the woyaks hanging from the bracken. But then she remembered the bear pit and, at the thought of Jarel’s betrayal, a wave of anger swelled inside. Let the woyaks do what they want with the hunters: lock them up in their stinking ships to rot for all I care. Yet what was she without the clan? She hadn’t thought about baby Tomaz and, though she hardly believed it, she missed the child. He shouldn’t have to grow up in the shadow of some krol. Iwa looked out at the far line of trees and a cold, dark, lonely feeling came over her. Slowly she turned and realised that she had gripped Miskyia by the hand.
‘Now I must leave you,’ the woman said. ‘I have much to prepare before tonight.’
‘Are you going to summon him again?’ Iwa tried to make the question sound as innocent as possible.
‘That fool woyak priest has found a way to protect the camp and my master is angry. He rages for the talisman and bids me to summon him so that he can try and break the woyaks’ defences. But do not fret, child, stay here and you will be safe. There is food, water and protection.’
Iwa smiled and watched Miskyia walk away. Part of her liked the sorceress but she’d never been quick to trust and the fact that she was scared of this strange woman in flowing robes made her want to run away all the more. Quietly she sank back against a wall and tried to go over the landmarks that would guide her to the boat by the jetty. Like all the clan she carried a map of the forest in her head; hundreds of rocks, streams and other markers all linked together into a mental atlas more complete than any trader’s chart. The clan had little use for parchment or drawings and, by the time of her seventh summer, Iwa could recite the most complex of routes by memory. Missing even the smallest landmark could make the difference between life and death. She’d managed to map out a good portion of the temple almost without thinking. She’d
