Paul can see it, all around him, as sorrow for Darien melds with the quiet joy of victory. They are appropriate reactions for the end of a battle that has been won at great cost; it is the relief and the exhaustion of the end.
Except it is not the end.
Paul can feel it, power vibrating within him, stronger than ever before. At first he thinks it was just one more sign of his isolation, his otherness, but dismisses the thought impatiently; now is not the time to indulge in feelings of loneliness. Never is the time to indulge in feelings of loneliness. What is, is.
There is a significance to this. Something is coming.
His is not a power of war, it's true. It is a power of the Summer Tree, of the God, of defense, of affirmation of life, and even now that the Dark has been defeated something is coming that may threaten all of that.
He turns to scan the horizon. His eyes fall on Aileron, riding back with Arthur on one side and Aileron on the other; the figures of what Paul is not, of battle-strength. As Kim is. As Dave is, even, in his apparent ordinariness, with his axe and his horn -
And suddenly Paul understands what is coming, and turns to look for Dave, to shout the warning before it is too late.
The sound of the Horn soars above everything, thin and cold as the light of torches half-seen through a shadowed forest, candles in the halls of the grieving, bleak sunrises over wintry seas.
In short, it is all light that casts no warmth, it tells a tale of shelters too far away for reaching, intended for someone else. Anyone else.
But Galadan hears it. He hears it well.
As the sound of the Horn dies away, Galadan's hand drops to his side, eyes wide and winter-grey in the light.
"I heard it. How did I hear Owein's Horn?"
It is too great a thing to understand, here and now.
In a moment Owein and the shadowy kings of the Wild Hunt are there, and unsheathing a deadly sword before them all is the child who was once Finn dan Shahar.
And now leads the kings whose presence means death.
Owein cries, in wild joy, and the kings raise their voices to echo him. They ride, blurring like smoke through the sky.
In another life, Arthur Pendragon has seen the Hunt ride, joyful and terrible, to harry the Dark. This Hunt also seeks blood, but its quarry fights in the Light's name. "Owein, hold!" cries Arthur, reaching into one set of memories for the means by which the High Magic might, in grave need, bind the Wild Magic.
Whether because Arthur is too far from the world from which High Magic comes, or because Owein and his Hunt are not Herne and his Hunt, or because the High Magic rarely succeeds in dominating the Wild Magic, the binding fails.
There is a (voice) sound, and the Child turns to the south, towards it--he is not easily distracted, not at a time like this, but--but there is nothing there, even as he stares into the distance, and he turns her back.
Owein circles over the human king's head, laughing. "You cannot bind me, Warrior! We are free, we have the child, it is time for the Hunt to ride!"
Iselen bares her teeth at something her rider cannot see (but he can feel her irritated possessiveness), as the kings ready, joyfully, for the battle.
Someone is holding her; whoever it is, Leila doesn't care, she tears herself free, still screaming, and moves towards the altar.
She strides, stumbles, almost falls. Rights herself.
Claims the axe.
"In the name of the Goddess, no!" cries a priestess, but Leila doesn't hear, can't hear anything over the sound of her own screams. She has to reach him, she has to -
She raises Dana's axe, which only the High Priestess can lift. Raises it high, and brings it crashing down upon the altar stone.
Finn, I command you! In the name of Dana, in the name of Light! Come away! Come to me now in Paras Derval!
They are plunging into battle, but again the sound comes, this time with the force of (the upheaval of the earth as mountains are born from where there was once flatness, the winds of fury that destroy civilizations, the red and fearsome moon declaring war) the Goddess. And it is a voice that he knows, and it calls his name.
He pulls Iselen's head around violently, fighting with her to stay in the air, though she longs to join the violence below. A part of him does, too, but he must stay here and listen.
He can see who is speaking. He knows her face (he does not yet remember why).
His eyes widen in shock, as they used to. "Leila!" He calls, in a voice like the wind, as her presence fades away.
Finn guides Iselen (who is unwilling, but follows) south--but then Owein cries out, shouting after him, and his brother kings wail. Iselen pulls back towards them and he must fight her, the beautiful white horse he loves, forcing her away from those kings he loves as well. Leila has called him, and he is Finn dan Shahar.
They cannot ride without him, and they must not ride (the world is too precious for that).
Iselen screams with rage, and the kings wailing howls around him, and he can no longer hold his place on her back as she bucks and
There isn't even the barest flicker in her ring, and Kim doesn't expect there to be. She is powerless now, empty of all save pity and grief-- how had she not seen this?
And yet, Kim knows, if the Hunt had not ridden before, the lios and the Dalrei would all have died north of Celidon. Owein had saved them then, only to destroy them now, it seems. Everything is too closely connected, too complex; she cannot fathom it.
And then everything changes, changes, as Iselen throws her rider-- not out of love, as Imraith-Nimphais had thrown hers, but in fear and anger. Kim cries aloud, watching as Finn dan Shahar plummets from the sky, no longer a Rider of the Wild Hunt but once again a mortal boy.
No one breaks this fall; no one can. He crashes to the earth and lies there, still.
Awash in grief and pity, grief that is echoed by the despairing wailing of the Wild Hunt above her, still the Seer in her is aware of what this may mean-- but Loren is quicker, stepping forward.
"Owein! The child is lost again, you cannot ride!"
And so it is for nothing after all, Kim thinks, and here at the end it is Galadan, of all of them, who will at last have his long desire.
Annihilation. There will be nothing left.
Even as she thinks it, she hears something-- and as she does, Brendel cries out. "Listen!"
Kim's already turning, though, for she recognizes the voice, and the sound of singing.
The flame will wake from sleep The Kings the horn will call But though they answer from the deep You may never hold in thrall Those who ride from Owein's Keep With a child before them all.
With sudden hope in her heart, Kim watches as Ruana of the Paraiko comes striding over the ruined plain of Andarien, chanting as he walks, coming to bind the Wild Hunt as Conla himself had done, so long before.
"Sky King, sheath your sword! I put my will upon you. And I am one whose will you must obey. I am heir to Connla, who bound you to your sleep by the words you have heard me chanting, even now."
Silence, and in the hush, Ruana's words are clear.
"You were only released from your long sleep by the coming of the child, but he is lost again, as he was before, and so I say it again: sheath your swords! By the power of Connla's spell,I put my will upon you!"
For a moment the very air is charged with power as Owein glares at Ruana, but then he lowers his sword. With a sigh, the remaining kings do the same.
"Only because of that." Coldly said, and it is very clear to everyone listening how near they have all come to destruction. Owein continues, "It will not be forever?"
"No," Ruana says quietly, with compassion. "It will not be forever. It cannot be; you are the randomness that makes us free, Sky King. But only in binding you to sleep can we live-- but to sleep only. There will be another child again, before the end of days, and I tell you now truly that all worlds will be yours again as once they were, before the Tapestry is done."
His deep voice carries the cadence of prophecy, the weight of truth that masters time. Ruana continues,
"But for now, here in this place, you are subject to my will because the child is lost again. Go to the cave and lay yourself down upon your stone beds, and I will follow you to that place, and there weave Connla's spell a second time to bind you to your sleep."
Owein lifts his hand, and then bows to the Paraiko, bound by Finn's action, the Child's sacrifice.
And then the Wild Hunt is gone, flashing away across the sky to a cave at the edge of Pendaran Wood, near a tree forked by lightning thousands upon thousands of years ago.
Dazed by the enormity of what has just happened, Kim looks up at Ruana, only to find him looking down upon her gravely.
"How did you come in time?" she asks. "So narrowly in time?"
He shakes his head. "I have been here since the Dragon came. I ... when the rest of my people went to Eridu, I took it upon myself to come west, instead of east. It seemed to me that since the Baelrath is a power of war, that it would not have seen us undone so were we not needed upon the field of war itself."
There is a sudden tightness in Kim's throat, at this. She says nothing. Looking down at her, Ruana adds,
"Grieve not, Seer. The price of our sanctity would have been the Wild Hunt riding free, and the deaths of all living beings gathered here. It was time, and past time, for the Paraiko to be truly numbered among the army of Light."
She says in a tiny voice, "Am I forgiven, then?"
Ruana's gaze is compassionate. "You were forgiven in the kanior."
Slowly Kim nods, and there is silence around them for a moment before she breaks it.
"You will go now, then? To follow them to the cave?"
"Soon," he says. "But there is yet something left to happen here, I think, and I will stay to see it."
And with his words awareness rushes back over her. Kim looks toward the plain, where a great many men have gathered around a single figure.
Paul can see it, all around him, as sorrow for Darien melds with the quiet joy of victory. They are appropriate reactions for the end of a battle that has been won at great cost; it is the relief and the exhaustion of the end.
Except it is not the end.
Paul can feel it, power vibrating within him, stronger than ever before. At first he thinks it was just one more sign of his isolation, his otherness, but dismisses the thought impatiently; now is not the time to indulge in feelings of loneliness. Never is the time to indulge in feelings of loneliness. What is, is.
There is a significance to this. Something is coming.
His is not a power of war, it's true. It is a power of the Summer Tree, of the God, of defense, of affirmation of life, and even now that the Dark has been defeated something is coming that may threaten all of that.
He turns to scan the horizon. His eyes fall on Aileron, riding back with Arthur on one side and Aileron on the other; the figures of what Paul is not, of battle-strength. As Kim is. As Dave is, even, in his apparent ordinariness, with his axe and his horn -
And suddenly Paul understands what is coming, and turns to look for Dave, to shout the warning before it is too late.
It is already too late.
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In short, it is all light that casts no warmth, it tells a tale of shelters too far away for reaching, intended for someone else. Anyone else.
But Galadan hears it. He hears it well.
As the sound of the Horn dies away, Galadan's hand drops to his side, eyes wide and winter-grey in the light.
"I heard it. How did I hear Owein's Horn?"
It is too great a thing to understand, here and now.
Or ever, quite possible.
For the Hunt comes.
And death, as ever, rides with them.
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And now leads the kings whose presence means death.
Owein cries, in wild joy, and the kings raise their voices to echo him. They ride, blurring like smoke through the sky.
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Whether because Arthur is too far from the world from which High Magic comes, or because Owein and his Hunt are not Herne and his Hunt, or because the High Magic rarely succeeds in dominating the Wild Magic, the binding fails.
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She hears the sound of the horn; it explodes in her brain, and the first scream is a scream of pain.
The second is one of understanding. She can see what is happening, all of it, and what the inevitable end will be, and so she screams a third time:
Finn, no! Come away! It is Leila. Do not kill them! Come away!
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Owein circles over the human king's head, laughing. "You cannot bind me, Warrior! We are free, we have the child, it is time for the Hunt to ride!"
Iselen bares her teeth at something her rider cannot see (but he can feel her irritated possessiveness), as the kings ready, joyfully, for the battle.
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She strides, stumbles, almost falls. Rights herself.
Claims the axe.
"In the name of the Goddess, no!" cries a priestess, but Leila doesn't hear, can't hear anything over the sound of her own screams. She has to reach him, she has to -
She raises Dana's axe, which only the High Priestess can lift. Raises it high, and brings it crashing down upon the altar stone.
Finn, I command you! In the name of Dana, in the name of Light! Come away! Come to me now in Paras Derval!
Reply
He pulls Iselen's head around violently, fighting with her to stay in the air, though she longs to join the violence below. A part of him does, too, but he must stay here and listen.
He can see who is speaking. He knows her face (he does not yet remember why).
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There is no power left in her.
Oh, Finn, she says, sending with what she has left, with sorrow and with love. Please come away. Please come back to me.
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Finn guides Iselen (who is unwilling, but follows) south--but then Owein cries out, shouting after him, and his brother kings wail. Iselen pulls back towards them and he must fight her, the beautiful white horse he loves, forcing her away from those kings he loves as well. Leila has called him, and he is Finn dan Shahar.
They cannot ride without him, and they must not ride (the world is too precious for that).
Iselen screams with rage, and the kings wailing howls around him, and he can no longer hold his place on her back as she bucks and
he
falls.
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And yet, Kim knows, if the Hunt had not ridden before, the lios and the Dalrei would all have died north of Celidon. Owein had saved them then, only to destroy them now, it seems. Everything is too closely connected, too complex; she cannot fathom it.
And then everything changes, changes, as Iselen throws her rider-- not out of love, as Imraith-Nimphais had thrown hers, but in fear and anger. Kim cries aloud, watching as Finn dan Shahar plummets from the sky, no longer a Rider of the Wild Hunt but once again a mortal boy.
No one breaks this fall; no one can. He crashes to the earth and lies there, still.
Awash in grief and pity, grief that is echoed by the despairing wailing of the Wild Hunt above her, still the Seer in her is aware of what this may mean-- but Loren is quicker, stepping forward.
"Owein! The child is lost again, you cannot ride!"
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"It is not so, for we are free! We have been summoned to power by power, and we will ride and slake our grief with blood!"
The kings of the Wild Hunt take up the cry, circling above them in rage and lifting their swords for the slaughter to come.
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Annihilation. There will be nothing left.
Even as she thinks it, she hears something-- and as she does, Brendel cries out. "Listen!"
Kim's already turning, though, for she recognizes the voice, and the sound of singing.
The flame will wake from sleep
The Kings the horn will call
But though they answer from the deep
You may never hold in thrall
Those who ride from Owein's Keep
With a child before them all.
With sudden hope in her heart, Kim watches as Ruana of the Paraiko comes striding over the ruined plain of Andarien, chanting as he walks, coming to bind the Wild Hunt as Conla himself had done, so long before.
"Sky King, sheath your sword! I put my will upon you. And I am one whose will you must obey. I am heir to Connla, who bound you to your sleep by the words you have heard me chanting, even now."
Silence, and in the hush, Ruana's words are clear.
"You were only released from your long sleep by the coming of the child, but he is lost again, as he was before, and so I say it again: sheath your swords! By the power of Connla's spell,I put my will upon you!"
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"Only because of that." Coldly said, and it is very clear to everyone listening how near they have all come to destruction. Owein continues, "It will not be forever?"
"No," Ruana says quietly, with compassion. "It will not be forever. It cannot be; you are the randomness that makes us free, Sky King. But only in binding you to sleep can we live-- but to sleep only. There will be another child again, before the end of days, and I tell you now truly that all worlds will be yours again as once they were, before the Tapestry is done."
His deep voice carries the cadence of prophecy, the weight of truth that masters time. Ruana continues,
"But for now, here in this place, you are subject to my will because the child is lost again. Go to the cave and lay yourself down upon your stone beds, and I will follow you to that place, and there weave Connla's spell a second time to bind you to your sleep."
Owein lifts his hand, and then bows to the Paraiko, bound by Finn's action, the Child's sacrifice.
And then the Wild Hunt is gone, flashing away across the sky to a cave at the edge of Pendaran Wood, near a tree forked by lightning thousands upon thousands of years ago.
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"How did you come in time?" she asks. "So narrowly in time?"
He shakes his head. "I have been here since the Dragon came. I ... when the rest of my people went to Eridu, I took it upon myself to come west, instead of east. It seemed to me that since the Baelrath is a power of war, that it would not have seen us undone so were we not needed upon the field of war itself."
There is a sudden tightness in Kim's throat, at this. She says nothing. Looking down at her, Ruana adds,
"Grieve not, Seer. The price of our sanctity would have been the Wild Hunt riding free, and the deaths of all living beings gathered here. It was time, and past time, for the Paraiko to be truly numbered among the army of Light."
She says in a tiny voice, "Am I forgiven, then?"
Ruana's gaze is compassionate. "You were forgiven in the kanior."
Slowly Kim nods, and there is silence around them for a moment before she breaks it.
"You will go now, then? To follow them to the cave?"
"Soon," he says. "But there is yet something left to happen here, I think, and I will stay to see it."
And with his words awareness rushes back over her. Kim looks toward the plain, where a great many men have gathered around a single figure.
Around Galadan.
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