At storm’s end, almost two hours later, Inardle was very far away, still unknowing of what had happened behind her.
Eleanon sat among the reeds, revelling in the sun as it peeked its way through the dissipating clouds, staring at Elcho Falling and imagining the chaos within.
He shook out his wings slowly, spreading them to dry in the sun, confident that that was the last mayhem Isaiah would summon in a very, very long time.
Chapter 8
The Outlands
Inardle found the Skraelings far, far sooner than she had thought. She’d returned to her Lealfast form once she was well away from Elcho Falling, flying south high and fast, putting as much distance as possible between her and the citadel before the Lealfast returned to it after the mayhem. She’d thought to have needed to have travelled many scores of leagues, but in fact she discovered the Skraelings not four hours south of Elcho Falling. She was flying over the gently rolling grassy hills, enjoying the sun, when, quite abruptly, the entire herd of Skraelings had materialised below her.
Inardle actually gave a small cry of surprise. She slowly, carefully, spiralled down toward them, landing on the grass some ten or twelve paces distant from their forward edge.
She looked them over — they were very, very different to what she had last seen. Most had reverted to their usual Skraeling form from the gross monstrosities their association with the One had warped them into, but a few . . . a few seemed to have altered further yet. Their huge silver orbs had become much smaller and more elongated and were grey rather than silver, while both their clawed hands and their once-terrible fangs seemed almost mild in comparison to what once they had been.
One of their number, one who had undergone such change as to appear almost handsome, rather than repulsively ugly, stepped forward.
“Inardle,” he said, “we have come to meet you.”
Inardle stared, recognising the voice before she recognised the form. “Ozll,” she responded. After an awkward silence, she said, “You’ve changed.”
He frowned. “How so?”
“You are becoming beautiful.”
He stared, then seemed to dismiss the comment. “We have been coming to meet with you, Inardle.”
“So you said. Why did you want to —”
“You have been changed.”
Inardle stilled. She did not know how to respond, or how Ozll, or any other of the millions of Skraelings present, might feel about her now.
“We need to talk with you,” Ozll said, and Inardle nodded.
“Shall we sit?” she said, folding herself cross-legged to the ground.
Ozll stepped forward, sitting down before her, and the mass of Skraelings swarmed about them, surrounding them completely, before settling to the ground themselves.
“You have been changed,” Ozll said once again. “We want to know what happened. How it felt. What it has done to you. We are curious.”
“First,” Inardle said, “let me show you.” She stood, stretched her arms up above her head, looking skyward . . . from the tips of her fingers and progressively down her body she turned into a beautiful column of green water. She had a basic form of arms, head and body, but the only clear, visible facial features were her eyes. Everything else was . . . liquid, virtually formless.
The Skraelings gasped and hissed, then murmured in a swell of sound as Inardle returned to her Lealfast form and sat once more.
“You are River Angel,” Ozll said, his voice soft.
“When I wish,” Inardle said.
“Tell us how you drowned,” Ozll said. “Did it hurt? Were you scared of the water?”
“I was not killed by water,” Inardle said, “but rather by Axis’ blade when he tore my living heart from my breast.”
The Skraelings had been fascinated by Inardle before this statement. Now they were spellbound.
Inardle explained how she and Axis had been trapped in the ice hex constructed by Eleanon, and how the only way for him to get her out was to murder her, then drag her back to the waters surrounding Elcho Falling.
“He bathed my torn, cold corpse in the lake of Elcho Falling,” she said, “knowing the properties it contained for one with blood such as mine, and from the sky he commanded down an eagle who bore my heart back into my breast. It was .” she paused, remembering, “such power as you cannot imagine. Terrible. Painful. Beyond any words of mine to describe. But, in coming back to life, I was reborn with my River Angel potential awoken within me.”
“So,” Ozll said, “this is not something the mass of Lealfast could do? Jump into the waters of Elcho Falling and . . . transform?”
“No,” said Inardle. “I don’t think so. It was a combination of Axis’ magic and my blood that worked my transformation.”
All the Skraelings relaxed, many smiling, and Inardle realised they’d been worried that the Lealfast, too, might transform into River Angels. “You knew I’d changed,” she said.
“Yes,” Ozll replied. “Thus we came to find you. Inardle, we need to know, what have you become now you are a River Angel?”
Inardle frowned, puzzled. “What do you mean?”
“Inardle, have you murdered since you were reborn?”
Inardle didn’t know what to say. “Um . . . yes . . . several Lealfast. They attacked myself and Axis, and so I was forced to —”
She stopped, shocked by the look in the Skraelings’ eyes.
They looked sad, almost as if they were disappointed in her, and it was such a strange expression for them to assume that Inardle simply didn’t know what to think.
“You have killed,” Ozll said. “Did you assume the form of a River Angel to kill?”
“Yes,” Inardle whispered.
“Thank you, Inardle,” Ozll said, rising, and bringing to their feet the assembled millions of Skraelings with him. “That was what we needed to know.”
He began to turn, and Inardle called out to him, holding out a hand.
“Wait! Ozll, I — all at Elcho Falling — need to know what you intend to do! Will you —”
“Goodbye, River Angel,” Ozll said, and before Inardle could answer, the congregation of Skraelings vanished, millions upon millions of them, and she was left standing alone in the vast plains of the Outlands, holding out her hand imploringly to a people who no longer wanted to know her.
Chapter 9
Elcho Falling
Elcho Falling was a nightmare to clean up. Everything inside had been water damaged, and close to half of the furniture and bedding had been rendered unusable.
Worse, scores of people had died, drowned or battered to death in the torrents of water that swept down staircases or filled lower chambers.
Among those who had died were the three Enchanters who’d been in the lower basement chamber with the Dark Spire. No one knew if the Dark Spire had killed them, or if they had drowned when the lower chambers had filled with water, but any knowledge they may have had about the cause of the mayhem moving inside had died with them.
Maximilian was furious at the intrusion of the mayhem into Elcho Falling. He knew he shouldn’t be. He knew that neither Isaiah nor Axis could possibly have predicted this, but still he was angry. He knew this was likely a product of his frustration more than anything else, but it didn’t stop him spending a good few long minutes shouting at both Axis and Isaiah before he finally quietened, and apologised.
“The mayhem destroyed all the work Ishbel and I had done on cataloguing the items in the Twisted Tower,” he said. “We’ll need to start all over again.”
“I’m sorry, Maxel,” Isaiah said.
Maximilian gave a little shrug of his shoulders, accepting the apology. They were standing on the largest landing of the main staircase, backs against a wall as scores of people hurried past carting bedding and clothes to windows and balconies to be draped out in the open air. Ropes had been strung between many of the balconies to hang sheets and blankets. Maximilian thought that from a distance Elcho Falling must look like a laundress’ tower.
“Can it happen again?” Axis said. “I mean, can Eleanon now direct anything we do outside of Elcho Falling, inside Elcho Falling. If I direct a soldier to shoot an arrow at a passing Lealfast, will Elcho Falling then be filled with thousands of arrows bouncing about?”
Maximilian gave a small shake of his head. “I talked to Elcho Falling before I came down here, worried about the same thing. Apparently what Eleanon did was take the enchantment of the mayhem and reflect it inside via the Dark Spire. Neither Elcho Falling nor myself believe that an ordinary occurrence — a non-magical occurrence — can be reflected the same way. But it does dampen your use of the Star Dance, Axis, as it does whatever you can summon, Isaiah. Be careful.”
Georgdi approached them, climbing the stairs. “The lower chambers have been drained of their water,” he said. “The Dark Spire . . . you need to see the Dark Spire, Maximilian.”