Horizons of the Heart

By Melange
Copyright © 2013 Melange
All Rights Reserved.

Synopsis

Events in Redwall comes to a close when the source of the strange sensations come to light. Jaden tells himself something he needs to hear.

Flashback: Jaden understands that his future among the Lacunai won't be what he wants.

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Chapter 13: Embracing Change

JADEN

It was warm inside, a stark contrast to the chill surrounding the fortress. The winters held the mountains in the grip of a jealous lover, but the Lacunai wouldn’t want it any other way. It only served to harden them against the threats from the outside world. The fireplace burned brightly and outlined the silhouette of the man standing before it. This was his study, but the heavy desk stood almost bare; anything important would be said to the face, not in a letter.

He stood slightly above the average height of men, and carried himself with an air of a person who was supremely confident in their own abilities; confidence brought on by many hard-won victories, and lessons learned through defeat. The dark burgundy coat was of the finest velvet, made for him specifically by a Kasman tailor many years ago. It fit him perfectly to this day, as he would allow nothing less. Long, black hair fell freely to his shoulders, parted where a pair of curved horns rose from his brow. Along the hairline were also a number of dull, almost black scales where his draconic signs showed most clearly. Garen of the Iron Scales was one of the strongest Mystics of his generation, a trait he had dreamed of passing down to both his children. Recently, he had received word that this would not be so. He would have to put all his faith in his oldest child, since she at least had managed to remember her family’s iron-clad axiom.

Garen looked up at the banner above the fireplace. The seal of the Tarasov family, three black claws on a golden field, and the words spoken by their patriarch and immortalised here: Strength in all things. Strength above all things. He would be strong. For his family, for the mountain, he would be strong.

“Father, you called for me?” The chill from outside the chamber, more so than the voice, announced the arrival of his youngest.

“Jaden. Good. Attend to me,” the dragon-marked Mystic turned from the banner and beheld his son. Though similar in height, the older man was built much more powerfully, signs of both his inner spirit, and a lifetime of fighting. They shared the black hair, but aside from that both his children took after their mother’s features.

The younger Tarasov joined his father by the fireplace, and remained silent. They would have to address what had happened a week ago. It was not a talk either of them was looking forward to, but it had to be done.

“What do you see, when you look upon our banner, son?” Garen asked aloud, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

“Strength and honour,” Jaden immediately replied. It was the only answer, after all. All of his family knew this simple truth.

“Yes. Strength. Honour. The two pillars that have carried the Tarasovs through centuries when others have fallen.” His father took a breath to centre himself. He could feel the red heat roil inside him.

“Father, I-“

“So, why did you decide to throw away both at once?!” Garen roared, knocking over the nearby desk with an angry swing of an arm. It was a heavy oaken writing table, but that mattered little. The dragon’s power flowed through him even in human form.

“I-“

“You had prepared for that moment your entire life. You were to seek out strength,” Garen pointed at the banner with a finger where the dark nail was almost a claw. “Be a Tarasov! But what do you bring back with you?”

It wasn’t a question. Jaden looked at the floor in shame, and swallowed. He had brought disgrace upon his family. Once bonded with a spirit, the Mystic’s path in life was set in stone, just as Talraman was set in the mountain.

“A whore of the Myriad Nether? Unbelievable!” His father took several calming breaths, reining in his briefly lost temper, the fury of a dragon. “I would have had no objection to any other demon. There are many strong dwellers in that abyss. But you… you picked the weakest of them all.”

“Father, no! She picked me! I didn’t even know what was happening until-“ Jaden tried to explain. He hadn’t even seen it coming. Even after all the preparation, he had been blind.

“Enough! Just… enough. There is no place for you among the protectors of the mountain. Not like this. I had such great hopes for you, Jaden. You truly applied yourself in the art of combat. Your weapons trainer was pleased with your skill with the blade. Master Viskeri spoke highly of your progress in the magic craft, as well.”

“I can still fight, Father. She… My spirit, it has powerful fire magic,” Jaden said. The fire might even be as strong as his father’s, he thought. He had dreamt of fire every night since that fateful day; rivers of burning voices.

“Think, Jaden. I taught you better than that. So if you bring fire upon our enemies, what will happen then? You will make yourself a target. How will you survive the retaliatory strike? Will your scales deflect the arrows? Will your body shrug off the lightning?” Garen crossed his arms. No, his son was no dragon, no basilisk. That weakness would be his undoing in any battlefield.

“I can still… There must be something I could do?” Jaden could fight smarter. He was quick in the other form, light and fast on the wind with his wings.

“There is.” His father stared into the fire. This was the part he hated. This was where he had to sacrifice his son for the good of the mountain, and the honour of the family. Garen’s strong hands clenched. “When I got word of… your results, I spoke with a couple of friends in the council. I even called in a favour or two. After long deliberations we reached the conclusion that you could still be of use for Talraman.”

Jaden didn’t like how that sounded, but he waited for his father to finish. His instincts were often wrong anyway, even if they were screaming at him right now.

“Your… new talents might be worthwhile for our information network. If you cultivate your bond, I have no doubt you could become a… capable spy. Distracting certain officials if we need to turn attention away from what we’re doing, and similar things.” Garen no longer looked at his son. It would only make this harder. Every Mystic could serve the good of all Lacunai, but perhaps not in a way they had imagined.

“You want me to… The council expect me to…” Jaden couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This couldn’t be right. He had grown up with stories of his family’s great deeds. He had dreamt that one day he would have a legend of his own. Not so anymore.

“Even in this disgrace, find honour through serving the mountain… son. Let me know what to tell the council, but don’t take too long deciding. This is the best you can hope for.” Garen of the Iron Scales waved his lost child away. It was time to consider the future. “Send in your sister when you leave. I need to speak with Lilya about a position among the protectors.”

Jaden fled the chamber. He didn’t feel like he would ever be able to stop running.

Their glasses had received a refill of water or wine, and the baron’s family was listening to Kellen do a much embellished telling of their adventure into the dark rift below Carrick Field. Jaden didn’t remember quite that many Kynian horrors while they had frantically tried to escape through the maze-like tunnels; the few there were had been bad enough. The noise of the mandibles snapping at his eyes was something he would rather forget.

“So there we were, backed up against the narrow chute where only one of us could crawl at a time,” Kellen directed his story mostly at the baron’s children. The daughter was leaning forward in fascination, that wide smile never leaving her lips; the son had barely moved, aside from pushing his napkin around a little.

One of the doors opened, letting Mirena back into the dining hall. Jaden caught her giving the room a quick look, as if she was searching for something. Apparently not finding it, she smiled at their hosts and rejoined the table.

“Now that we’re all back,” said the baron, interrupting Kellen’s tale without batting an eye, “I believe it’s time for us to try the main course, shall we?”

A servant immediately opened another pair of doors, allowing another one to push a cart into the hall. It carried several covered serving plates, but rather than steel or bronze lids these were woven like baskets. Jaden didn’t know Marsantian customs very well, but he imagined that this would be more common over there where metal was much rarer.

“Tonight, our cooks prepared a nice coriander pork dish, keeping to the Marsander style of course, with ajante noodles and steamed vegetables. Quite exotic, for us mainland people,” Baron Tassard pointed at each tray as they were placed on the table. The servants immediately rolled the empty cart out to bring the second round of food.

“This looks delicious,” Stann leaned forward to smell the freshly cooked meat still steaming in its juices.

“We’ll let our staff know of your kind words,” lady Juliss said with an eager smile. “Now, don’t be shy, take as much as you want. We’ve got plenty more coming.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Stann said, and reached over to take the carving knives from the meat tray.

“Just leave some for the rest of us, Bear,” Kellen reminded his cousin, then turned to a servant for another refill of his wine.

A brief flicker from the polished steel while Stann was sawing the pork apart caused Jaden to pause. There had been something strange in that reflection. Something that shouldn’t have been there. Looking around, his friends seemed busy talking with the baron or his wife. The daughter was intently watching Stann work, and the son was as listless as before. Nobody was keeping an eye on Jaden.

Letting his mind relax, he opened himself to the flow of magic through the world. The table and chairs, the walls of the manor, all fall into a grey backdrop. Only things touched by magic were truly visible through Mystics’ sight. Jaden casually looked around the room, and saw strands of magic wrapped around the baron, his family, even the servants. All of them. On the table, he saw the same around the food that had been brought in. He recognised the feel of the strands. It was deception magic, a mirage, just like the illusion that cloaked him.

Unlike transformation magic, deception was ephemeral. It wasn’t physical, but it could fool every sense but touch. Also unlike transformation, the strands were partially transparent. If you knew what you were looking at, you could see past the mirage and find the truth. Jaden fixed his eyes on the length of pork before him and pushed aside the tangle of lies with his own magic. Stann was happily carving out platefuls from a leg. A human leg.

Controlling his urge to scream, Jaden swept his unravelling eyes across the room. The ajante writhed in its true maggot form. The servants, quietly standing ready by the doors, looked more like human-sized dolls then men. Their faces were frozen in an expressionless mask, and there were no eyes in those dark sockets, only horror. They were surrounded by an infected miasma.

Finally, Jaden turned to look at the baron himself. Black marks appeared around Lord Tassards eyes, and coils of purple nether energy wrapped around both him and his wife, protecting rather than controlling them.

“My lord, my deepest apologies, but all this water must have passed straight through me. Could I be excused briefly?” Jaden fought to keep his voice level and polite. He had to do something without alerting the hosts. He couldn’t dispel the illusion, nor did he know what they were capable of. Also, none of his friends had brought their weapons here. He had to try and keep this from escalating into a fight, but he also had to get his friends out of here.

“Of course, spellguard Jaideen,” the baron’s smile looked strained. He did not enjoy these interruptions, it seemed like. He gestured at a servant by the door Mirena had passed through earlier. “Kudan will show you the way.”

“Mistress Lockless,” Jaden turned to Oleander and gave her a meaningful look. “You wanted to freshen up as well.”

“I- Of course, excellent suggestion,” she stood up and joined him, drawing some curious looks from the rest of their friends.

Mirena narrowed her eyes with suspicion. Those two didn’t go to the washroom together normally, so something must be going on. She looked around the room at the baron’s family and her friends, but nothing seemed out of place. Mirena’s eyes briefly met Kellen’s, who looked a little strained. Maybe he was feeling something too?

The manservant brought Jaden and Oleander down the corridor to one door among many, and then stood quietly waiting for them to finish their business. The man didn’t react when Jaden took the redhead’s hand and brought her into the washroom with him.

“Jay? Uh, what are you doing?” Oleander wondered when the Mystic pulled the door shut behind them, leaving them alone in the small room. Her mind started to buzz with several unexpected thoughts, leaving her with a slight blush.

“This is going to sound a little… strange, Ollie, but I need you to trust me on this. Can you do that?” His eyes, those light amber, almost golden eyes, bore into her with a desperate sense of urgency.

“I do, completely,” the words slipped out of her mouth before she even had the chance to reflect on them. He didn’t seem to notice, though. Something must really be bothering him.

“I want… I need you to cause something that will force the baron to put the supper on hold and allow us to leave, without drawing too much attention to us.” Jaden was playing several scenarios out in his head. If they were going to avoid fighting, they would have to play this very subtle. Not even their friends could know until they were safely away from here. He couldn’t imagine Mirena or Stann to calmly walk away.

Oleander met his eyes with her own for a long time. There were so many things she wanted to ask him, but he had put his trust in her right now. Well, it wasn’t as if she didn’t have any ideas on how to break up a fancy dinner party. A big grin lit up her face.

Upon seeing that large smile of hers, Jaden began to worry if he had made a very bad decision here, but it was too late now. He just nodded at the woman, and opened the door again. The servant stood precisely where they had left him, almost motionless. As soon as they were out of the washroom, they were bid to follow with a gesture and a clipped word, and made their way back to the dining hall where the others were no doubt waiting.

“Ah, nice to see you return, lady Lockless,” Baron Tassard smiled warmly. They stood by one of the paintings of a large Albander city seen from the sea, likely Farcrest of yesteryear. Their host had been talking about how his family had come into their position, a story that was filled with more self-aggrandizing than fact. “Are we ready to sit back down? We wouldn’t want the food to grow cold, now, would we?”

Oleander shot Jaden a look he recognised. She needed to be unseen, so now it was his turn to draw attention away from her.

“Baron, being from… Sorun, I am unfamiliar with some parts of your country’s history. Is it true that the Northern Horde made its way all the way to the walls of Farcrest during the third war?” Jaden gritted his teeth, and did his best to feign a Sorunese accent.

“Aha, a fellow scholar of the past! Yes, you see, it all began after War Chieftain Sogard Skyrune ascended the high seat after the second war,” the baron lapsed into a familiar rendition of a story they had heard from Kellen before. The shamans of the North desired to expand the borders of their domain, and pressured the new chieftain into declaring a new campaign against Alband mere years after the last war had ended. Neither nation was prepared for another conflict, but found themselves locked in a drawn-out battle anyway. The war-tired neighbouring countries of Sorun and the underkingdom of Atun wanted nothing to do with it, leaving either side without allies as well. The third war was a loss for everyone.

While the baron spoke, keeping the attention of the room, Oleander casually moved around the room. The baron son Kalen managed to raise his head long enough to look at her with a blank expression, but didn’t say anything.

“Well, enough history I say, we really should sit down and enjoy this wonderful feast,” lady Juliss interrupted her husband before he could launch into a debate with Kellen about the finer points of the third North-Alband war.

“About time,” Stann murmured. Letting all that pork grow cold seemed like such a waste. He reached for the knives on the tray to lift a good serving of the meat onto his plate.

A loud thud came from the kitchen doors, followed by another one. Everyone paused in what they were doing and looked at noise. The baroness waved at a manservant, who immediately tried to open the doors, but to no avail.

“We seem to be having some trouble here, “ Baron Tassard said with a slightly annoyed laugh. “Get that door open, Kudan. Let’s not keep our guests waiting!”

The servants tried both pulling, and turning the key in the lock. One of them looked up at the baron and gave an expressionless shake of his head.

“Well, this is certainly-“ The baron couldn’t finish the sentence before the windows blew open. The drapes whipped wildly in the wind. The stormy weather that had been brewing all afternoon had arrived, blowing rain and leaves into the dining hall. Yelps and shouts filled the room as those sitting closest to the windows were dripping with cold water.

“Get those windows shut! What is happening here?” The baroness demanded in a shrill voice.

“Is the house haunted?” Stann wondered aloud, shuddering not from the cold but from sensible superstition. The room was much darker as the wind had snuffed out the candles, leaving only two covered oil lamps in a corner. The servants, now soaked, managed to finally secure the windows and shut the storm outside. The damage, though, was done. The food was drenched in rainwater, the table was a complete mess, and half the guests were shivering.

“This is ridiculous,” the baron exclaimed, looking both angry and embarrassed. “I… apologise profusely for this very unfortunate turn of events. I will have to ask you to return tomorrow for a proper breakfast instead. I don’t know how to explain what happened here.”

“That’s quite alright, my lord. It’s a shame about the pork on ajante, but it can’t be helped.” Mirena had sat opposite of the windows, and got away with only a few drops in her hair.

“Kudan will take you back to the tavern, lady Kaladon. It seems there are still some quirks to this old manor, eh?” Baron Tassard tried to laugh, but it seemed flat and strained.

“Good evening, your lordships, and thank you again for the supper, even if it didn’t turn out as expected,” the knight said, and gathered her friends to leave. Kellen looked like a drenched ox with his robe clinging to him, but Jaden seemed to have escaped without being splashed even though he sat almost directly in front of a window.

“Well, that was certainly strange,” the rune seeker offered his opinion as he dug through his belt-pouches. His fingers closed around the desired stone with a triumphant rumble, and soon the water dripping from him pulled into a large hovering ball that left him as dry as he had been minutes earlier.

“Haunted, I say. That place gave me the shivers for some reason. Only ghosts would stoop low enough to ruin such a fine meal,” Stann sulked. That pork had looked really good. Ghosts didn’t know what they were missing.

Jaden glanced at the redhead that walked next to him. It looked like she was fighting to keep a straight face. He reached out with a clammy hand and squeezed hers. When she looked up in surprise he mouthed a silent thank you, making her look away quickly. Was she laughing at him?

They hurried back into the covered carriage that would take them back to the Woodsman’s Cup and sat in much the same way as before, except this time the redhead claimed the spot next to the black-haired mystic.

“Was that enough?” She whispered at him as the carriage began to roll away from the baron’s home.

“Very inspired. I’m afraid to ask how you did it,” Jaden gave her a wan smile. He was too disturbed by what he had seen back there, and what it meant. It was still a jumble in his head, and that beckoning in the back of his mind didn’t help either.

“If that hadn’t done the trick, I could’ve set fire to the tablecloth with the pinches of flashpowder I had spread out while reaching for things. “ Oleander looked very pleased with her flair for improvised destruction.

“Now who’s setting things on fire, Ollie?” Maybe this could be his come-back when she brought up the bathhouse incident again?

“I’m just learning from you, oh prince of the flame!” She nudged his side, and jumped a bit at the wetness. Some rain must’ve hit them when they entered the carriage.

A silhouette watched them drive away from a window on the second floor.

The cold chains keeping him upright against the wall were the first thing Rhyce saw when his eyes reluctantly allowed themselves to open. The blood on the side of his forehead was beginning to dry, and his head was throbbing painfully. He remembered…

“Ah, our lovely guest is coming back to us,” a dulcet voice reached out from the shadows. “Is he alert?”

A figure stepped in front of him. Rhyce couldn’t call it a man, not really. It walked like one, but the face was empty of any humanity, as if it was a porcelain mask rather than flesh. The figure roughly pulled his head up by his hair. The sudden pain forced a grimace on his face, but he wouldn’t give them the pleasure of hearing him cry out.

“The guest is alert, Mistress,” spoke the man-creature with those harsh, clipped words. It sounded like as if several people tried to form a sentence by saying just one word each.

“Wonderful! Human, who is my sister?” That sweet voice spoke again, but the words made no sense.

Rhyce just stared at the shadow, letting his eyes grow used to the darkness. Contours began to appear where there had only been a void previously. If he could see it, he could hit it. His arrows couldn’t miss. His hands twitched in the manacles, almost feeling the grip of his missing bow. His target was right in front of him, but he had no way to shoot.

“Answer me, human!” The voice turned from honeyed song to burning threat in an instant. He saw a gesture toward one of the inhuman guards.

His breath was driven out of him when the man-like creature drove its fist into his stomach. The bitter taste of bile shot up into his mouth and mixed with the blood. Rhyce wanted to gasp for breath, but he knew his body wouldn’t let him breathe. He forcibly relaxed his tense muscles until the shock passed, and only then allowed himself to reclaim his air. This was not his first beating.

“Oh, we have a hero on our hands, do we? Tell me what I want to know, and I might be merciful. If you beg, I could even let you go. Will you beg for me, human?” The sweetness was back again.

“You cannot fill a dry well with tears,” Rhyce managed to say a rasping voice.

“A poet you are, a true wordsmith!” Cruel amusement dripped with every word. “I am an artist as well.”

The half-visible shape opened the door to the shed and was about to step out when she turned back and beheld the defiant man shackled and chained.

“Paint him in a tragedy of violence, my sweets," she commanded, with a sweep of her arm.

He felt the fists of the man-creatures several times more, before one of them showed him the knife that would be the brush on his canvas of agony. Now the pain would truly begin.

The rain was still drumming to the background music of a summer storm when the carriage had left them outside the inn. In the wakes of sundown the weather cast the skies in an even darker shade of black, making the warmth and light of the Woodsman’s Cup very welcoming.

“Alband weather, right?” Stann shook water out of his shoulder-long hair, and glared at the other two men. Kellen had simply kept his water-shaping rune handy, and made the rain curve away before it touched him. Mirena and Oleander had huddled close to the older cousin as they hurried into the inn after getting out of the carriage, sharing in the protective bubble. Jaden, as was the case recently, was oddly unaffected by the weather. He looked as dry as when they had dressed in their rooms earlier, yet a pool was forming by his feet on the empty common room’s floor. Stann frowned at the strangeness of this, but that was the nature of magic, he supposed.

“Nice enough shindig, until the ghosts put an end to it,” Kellen pursed his lips in thought. While he might not believe there were actual ghosts in the manor, he had felt a strange chill when they got there. Sometimes he regretted not being a shaman, and being more aware of the spirit world.

“Did you guys see their kids? What was wrong with them?” Oleander sat down on one of the many chairs around the tables. Almost immediately, she squirmed and tugged at her skirt that had bunched up underneath her.

“Forget about the children; Rhyce was right!” Jaden blurted now that they were safely away from the baron’s men. “There are demons in Redwall!”

“What?” Mirena looked surprised, but not shocked. She had felt too many things since coming here, but she couldn’t quite recognise what. It was as if there was a veil over the village, suppressing her senses, and her connection with Telum.

They had talked about this while riding up, but Redwall had seemed so normal, even happy. It had been so easy to dismiss the archer’s demonic prediction. It had been so natural to just accept the contentment that seemed to permeate most of the villagers. As they looked at each other and began to understand this, it began to come to them that there might have been an outside influence insinuating this acceptance into their hearts.

“I used my Mystics’ sight while we were there. Everything was cloaked with illusions,” Jaden couldn’t tell them what they had almost eaten. There was no need to nauseate his friends like that; just another lie of omission to add to the pile. “The baron and his wife were heavily affected by demonic magic. They wore its dark blessing.”

“Are you absolutely sure, Jaden? We can’t just go and put a nobleman and family to the sword on a hunch.” Mirena looked at him intently, seeking any sign of uncertainty.

“I… Rena, please just believe me this time. These are things I know,” Jaden shivered in his soaked clothes, unseen by all. “I know demons. We were taught about all sorts of magical creatures, as well as the visitors from other worlds.”

“C’mon green-eyes, don’t go all inquisitor on Jay! If he says they’re demons, that’s good enough for me!” Oleander had got up from her seat and took a supportive step closer to her Mystic friend.

“I apologise. I guess I was just afraid to admit it to myself, too,” Mirena made a face, but still managed to look ladylike while doing it. “I’ve had some quite suspicious feelings since coming here. I should have heeded the warning signs, but for some reason I didn’t.”

“Right. Demons. We can handle that, surely,” Stann punched his palm with a smile. “You go ahead making those plans you like, and I’ll put on some dry clothes.”

“I should switch out of my nice clothes, too, if we’re going to turn this village upside down,” Jaden excused himself. Of course he didn’t need to change clothes. He was already wearing his most comfortable summer shirt and trousers, but no matter how many times he switched the illusion covering him, they would still remain soaked to his bones.

While the two went to their separate rooms, Mirena gestured for the rest to sit down. Oleander managed to do a better job of smoothing her skirt out this time. She was not used to wearing anything except trousers or tight leggings, but she was a quick learner — especially with a disapproving teacher like Mirena watching her.

“How do we find the demons? It is obvious that they’re not keeping the people here captive by force, or ruling openly. Are they instead hidden predators? And what is their connection to the Tassards?” Mirena laid out the immediate questions for everyone to hear.

“Are they shapeshifters, perhaps? That would allow them to hide in plain sight?” Kellen grimaced. This was turning into something too much like the skinwalker in Etrana. He could almost feel the paranoia rushing back.

“That would explain a lot,” Mirena seemed also recalling the events in the southern capital. She held her necklace in a hand, feeling the dull prick of the small golden sword. “If we find a suspect, I can always purge their cloak of lies with the power of Telum.”

“But first, who do we even suspect?” Oleander thought back on what she and Rhyce had learned during the afternoon. “A lot of people acted pretty strangely a month or so back.”

“The nightmares,” Kellen nodded. “That was probably when the demons appeared. Even common folks can feel the twisting when a dark visitor breaks into our world. That also means, worse for us, that the demons’ rift is here as well.”

“If it had been open for a month, the entire village and most of Ealbourne Woods would’ve been corrupted,” the knight disagreed. “More likely they just slipped through before the crack sealed itself.”

“But back to suspicious people?” The redhead tried to keep them on track. “There was this guy, Old Nias, who just ran away? Maybe he saw something?”

“Even if he did, he’s been gone for weeks. We have as good chances finding him, as finding the demons directly,” Kellen spread his hands in frustration. This was what he had hated about the Etrana incident: the mistrust and fear.

“What about that woman, Lyrissa? She’s a failed magician. Maybe she tried to prove something, and summoned a demon or two by mistake?” Oleander pointed out. “You told us she had been mighty suspicious about the two of you. Maybe she didn’t want you to see through her trickery?”

“That’s definitely a possibility. Some of us should look in on her again, but maybe someone else than Kellen and I will make her likelier to talk,” Mirena nodded. The woman had definitely been on edge, but from what they wouldn’t know until she was more forthcoming with them.

“But what if she IS the demon?” Oleander asked the obvious.

“Then we cut the monster’s head off!” Stann announced his return, wearing his dry spare clothes and chain mail armour, and affectionately patting his sword. He had brought his shield as well, just in case. “Did you and Rhyce find out anything else while you were looking around, Red?”

“Actually, where IS Rhyce?” Kellen looked at the windows, and out into the raining dark.

“I hope he gets back soon; this will only get worse the longer we leave it. If he’s not back by the morning we’ll have to go look for him,” Mirena looked a little worried. The archer being missing, the oppressive feeling, and the presence of demons made her mind consider all sorts of dreadful scenarios.

Jaden picked that moment to return. The change of clothes felt very nice, but his chemise was still wet. Hopefully it would dry by itself if he could stay out of the rain, but right now it just caused a distractingly slick sensation against his chest. He looked around the common room, and blinked.

“More importantly: where is the innkeeper and the maids? Where is everyone else?” Jaden asked his friends, causing them all to turn around and look, realising that they were all alone in an inn that should be full at this hour.

Blood hitting the floor wanted to sound like the rain outside the shed, but instead of bringing life to the world, every drop spoke of life leaving Rhyce. He hung limply in his chains, almost not feeling the shallow cuts that crisscrossed his chest and arms.

One of the servants of the demon had lit a lantern a while ago. Rhyce had first thought they wanted him to better see what they were doing to his body, but the sizzling noise told him that was not the case. The man, who looked older and blonde when Rhyce no longer could summon the strength to pierce the veil that hid their doll-like flesh, held the knife into the flame. The tip was glowing in dull red.

He closed his eyes. The farmhouse sprang to life behind his eyelids. Their voices brought a sense of home to the place. He had failed them, and only blood would wash the sin from his hands.

Milene, I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there for you. Tivan, your father is coming home.

Another black crow landed on the shed as the knife finally pulled a scream from him.

Stann let the curtain fall back as he stepped away from the window.

“It’s pretty dark out there, but I think the rain is starting to let up.” The situation was miserable enough as it was, without adding a downpour to it. “I think I saw some movement out there, though.”

Mirena and Jaden still sat at the table, with Kellen standing with a runestone in each hand and a frown on his face. Oleander was pacing. She was starting to feel trapped, despite being in a large, empty room. Unseen walls were closing in on her, and she felt a strange chill inside her heart.

“They had no mirrors in the mansion,” Mirena spoke, trying to add as many facts as they could gather to their evidence. “Why was that?”

“Demonic deception is mostly in your mind, unlike a Sorcerer’s mirage that actually changes the properties of light. The mirrors would have shown the demon’s true form,” Jaden explained. The idea of demon shapeshifters struck a little too close to home. This was getting very dangerous. Fortunately, he wouldn’t have to worry about mirrors. “Notice how they didn’t have any metal plates or cutlery until they served the meat? I guess there was no getting around having a knife by then. I saw a flash of the real world when Stann was cutting the le- uh, the pork.”

“There’s something strange going on out there,” Stann called, peeking outside again. “I think people are gathering.”

“This just went from bad to worse,” Mirena stood up. “We have three objectives: we need to find Rhyce; we have to find the demon; and we must avoid hurting any villagers in the process.”

“Why would we want to hurt the people here?” Oleander looked at the brunette with confusion.

“Obviously we don’t, but the demons may have enthralled them, and might pit them against us,” Kellen saw where the knight was coming from. This was definitely becoming Etrana all over again, through that had been with lies and mistrust, rather than mindcontrol.

“Jaden, go with Stann and Oleander to see if you can find out anything more from Lyrissa,” Mirena laid out the plan, pointing through the wall to where the failed magician’s cottage laid outside the village. “Kellen and I will head for the Tassard’s manor. If they’re nethermancers capable of summoning demons, we’ll be the ones best suited to fight them. Catch up with us as soon as you can. Whatever is going on, we’ll likely find some answers there.”

“Splitting up again, Rena?” Stann shook his head a little. “By now, we should acknowledge that we’ve not had a whole lot of luck with that.”

“I know! But I also can’t stop feeling that we’re running out of time. Just hurry, alright?” Mirena headed to the room she shared with Oleander to don her armour. This time she would be well prepared.

“You go ahead,” Kellen told the others. “I’ll stay here and make sure there are no surprises.”

“Rus og bol, Winterheart,” Stann thrust a fist toward his cousin, then went to the door with the Mystic and the redhead in tow.

“Glory and blood, clansman,” the older Northman replied as the three left the tavern.

“Where did you and Rhyce go earlier today?” Jaden asked, as they cautiously walked through the slow drizzle. Some people were standing outside their houses, watching them. Inside the lit windows, they could the worried faces of the unaffected. Most of them were children.

“All over the place, really. I’m not sure if anything stuck out enough for him to want a second look-see,” she shrugged, keeping a hand on one of her knives. She did not feel comfortable with being watched like this.

“Didn’t he say anything? Anything at all?”

“It’s Rhyce we’re talking about here. He just took off and I followed as best I could. That man can walk very quickly when he wants to, let me tell you,” Oleander kept looking around. Some of the people had begun following them from a distance. “It’s a small village, though. There’s basically just two ways to go — up or down the main street.”

“You cannot tell which way the deer ran by looking at the trail,” Jaden tried to think of something Rhyce would say, as he was attempting to get into the mindset of the archer.

“Yes, you can! It’s called tracking!” The redhead exclaimed, waving her hands around.

“… well, alright. It wasn’t a perfect metaphor,” Jaden admitted.

“Will you two shut up? We’re being followed.” Stann nodded to the group of people who had been following them for the last minute. “Also, I think that’s the witch’s house up there.”

Ahead along the smaller road that led from the village a way into the forest was a small cottage with rough log walls and thatched roof. When they tried the door, they found it soundly barred. Stann was about to kick it open when Oleander reminded them why they kept her around. Before a merchant would have the time to realise his gold necklace was missing, she had the door open.

The inside of the small house was one large room, with a bed in a corner, an area to cook, and a small table with mismatched chairs. A haggard woman with stringy brown hair and desperate eyes was backed up to the fireplace, brandishing a cast iron poker at them.

“Away! Away from my home, you monsters!” She sounded shrill, just short of panicked.

“Hey! We’re not the monsters here, miss demon!” Oleander returned the accusation, already having drawn a knife just in case.

“Please, ma’am,” Jaden put a gloved hand on the redhead’s, gently pushing the knife down. “We’re not the enemies here, but we need to know more if we’re to fight them.”

“You’re… you’re not?” Lyrissa seemed to falter a little, her poker dropping down as well. “I thought I was all alone.”

“No, there are plenty of others. But if we’re going to save the village, we need you to tell us everything you know. Please, Lyrissa, all these lives are at stake.” Jaden felt his words begin to take effect, but decided to push it a little further. “Everyone here needs you.”

Stann pushed the bolt back on the door, and kept watch out the window. There were still people out there, but something had happened back in the village. Some of them were beginning to return back there.

“They… do?” The broken woman stood up a little straighter, and suddenly eyed Jaden with suspicion. “How do I know you’re not filthy magicians coming here to finish the job?”

“We’re not. None of us are magicians,” Jaden lied easily, telling the stranger that the sky was green. The woman visibly relaxed. “What can you tell us of what’s happening here?”

“It’s the baron and his wife. They’re demon-worshippers! Their wealth and power? It’s all due to their pacts with the Nether. I see them in my dreams every time I sleep, binding Redwall ever tighter.”

“The nightmares?” Oleander asked, returning her knife to the belt.

“It was when she broke through the wall,” Lyrissa began to shake. “It lives inside their daughter now, a creature from below. She sings to the village when we sleep, and eat our hopes and dreams.”

“It’s the daughter? She did look a lot different from her old portrait,” Oleander and Jaden exchange a look. Jaden had sat just a seat away from Callandra during the dinner. He hadn’t sensed a thing. Or had he, and just not listened?

“Stann, we’re going for the mansion!” Jaden nodded at Lyrissa as they left, hoping she would be alright.

The people were gradually surrounding them outside the teacher’s house. It was on the way to the manor, and when they had passed it they saw the frightened looks of Samul and his family inside. Something was happening in Redwall, that was certain. One of their neighbours had been trying to break through the door, but Kellen had just grabbed the man from behind and thrown him into the street. That had brought all attention on the two of them.

“We’re going to have to make some adjustments to one part of your plan, Rena,” Kellen said, already exchanging his previous runes for something more offensive.

“We’re not hurting any innocents, Kellen. That’s final!” Still, Mirena drew her sword. All around them, people began to press closer. Their faces looked slack, as if they were asleep.

“Lady Kaladon, I know they’re my neighbours, but please don’t let them take my family,” Samul shouted from the window, holding his twins close.

Mirena looked at the crowd once more, and among the sleepwalking villagers she spotted some of the baron’s manservants. They looked stranger now that she knew she had been deceived. Their faces were frozen like masks, and their movements reminded her of the puppets she had seen as a child. This was an enemy she could fight. Mirena raised her sword, the blade beginning to glow with an inner light.

"I stand before the tide. With my last breath, I will protect you. With my least heartbeat, I will save you. I am a knight, and as long as I stand, you will never fall." It was the oath of a paladin, the words she had spoken when accepting the blessing of Telum.

“I see them too, Rena. Time to turn this battle around.” The rune seeker clenched his hand tightly around the inscribed stone. The protective symbols on his arms began to glow brightly as he poured his magic into them. “Invocation of the Four Mountains: Stoneguard!”

Rubble pulled up from the street, knocking the closest villagers over, and formed a moving shield that covered Kellen’s flank. That seemed to break the standoff, and the demonwrought servants threw themselves at the two magicians.

“The Mistress wants you to speak,” the first man-creature told Rhyce as it pushed his head back against the wall. There was too much blood in his eyes to see clearly.

“Speak,” the other said.

“Tell. Where is the Mistress’ sister? Who’s hiding her?”

“I…” Rhyce forced his raw throat to make sounds. “I don’t think I’ve bled enough yet.”

The servants obliged him.

When they came back to the village, the fighting was tearing the street apart. Blocks of stone had pushed up through the ground to keep the enthralled villagers from surrounding their friends. The light from Mirena’s sword had drawn them like a beacon from afar.

“Ymir’s breath,” Stann swore, looking at the scene. He pushed his helmed down, showing his eyes through the holes. The chin-guards didn’t cover his entire beard. Oleander had once told him that his helmet lacked the horns of a proper Northman helm, but he knew from experience those only got stuck on things.

“What are we going to do?” Oleander stared at the chaos. She didn’t think she could help out here at all.

“This is just a diversion, Ollie. We need to get to the demons and put an end to them,” Jaden pointed toward the manor in the distance. If they could get to the root of the evil, he hoped, the rest would wither away by itself.

“Alright, little brother. My ugly cousin and I will keep the locals busy. I’ll send Mirena to back you up. You’ll want her with you when you fight the demon. We’ll catch up once we’ve knocked the entire village senseless,” Stann slammed his sword against his round shield. Apparently there was no getting around fighting these people. It would be a Battle of Redwall all over, the North against Alband.

The moon was only starting to rise, making the village that much darker. Jaden’s eyes could pick out every detail in the night as if it was early morning instead. He led the way as they ran across the backyards toward the manor. The fighting was taking place on the main street, and engaging in that would only serve the plans of the demon, whatever they might be.

The sprawling manor of the Tassards was a bit outside the village, and lacking a carriage of their own it took the two several minutes to run there. They kept the pace sensible, though, to not exhaust themselves getting there. All the time spent in cities lately had made them a little spoiled, and Jaden could feel his heart racing once they passed the outer gate that separated the manor grounds from the Ealbourne. Though, whether it was from the running or the ever stronger beckoning, he couldn’t be sure.

“Jay, what are those things?” Oleander crouched down next to him, and pointed toward the main entrance. He recognised the unhidden form of the servants. They didn’t even bother to move naturally now, but instead jerked across the courtyard in a spindly fashion.

“The villagers were just thralls. Once the demons’ influence is gone, they’ll return to normal.” More or less. “The creatures over there are fleshforms. Think of them as undead, and you’re close to the truth. They’re what happen when a too weak demon tries to possess a human. The result is less than either part, but they’re absolutely loyal to their master.”

“Wonderful. So what do we do now? Maybe we can sneak inside through one of the side windows?” The redhead pointed along the treeline that followed the manor wings.

“Not a bad idea. They seem to be guarding the main doors, mostly.” The two began to carefully edge their way along the trees, mindful not to step on any of the branches that had blown down during the stiff winds earlier.

When they had circled about half way around, they saw a familiar sight through some of the lit windows.

“That’s the dining hall. If we go in through here, we’ll at least know where we are. Doesn’t look like anyone’s in there either, Jay.” Oleander peered inside.

“As good a place as any. From what I can tell, there are just wagon-houses and a shed around the back,” Jaden looked back at his friend. He really could see far during night-time.

“Sometimes I’m so envious of your elven eyes. Are those crows on top of the shed? That’s creepy.”

“I’m not an elf, Ollie.”

A loud crashing sound brought them around to look toward the front portion of the manor again. They made their way back as quickly as they could without breaking cover. When they peered around the corner of the dining hall wing, they saw Mirena slam one of the demon servants with her shield powerfully enough to lift it off the ground.

“Uh-oh. Looks like helmet-hair didn’t know about our sneaky plan, Jay.” The redhead looked over her shoulder. She was alone. Nights of bad dreams came crashing back to her. “Jay? JAY?!”

She wanted to go look for him. It was happening all over again. Her friends disappearing one by one, but Mirena was right there, fighting for her life. Oleander drew her knives, swearing Jay would have some explaining to do once this was over.

“Hold on, girl, I’m coming!”

More lies. Jaden could hear Oleander call for him as he slipped through the window. She had broken the locks earlier, allowing them to blow open by the wind, so getting through now was as easy as opening a door. He hated doing that to her, but he had to make sure of something. The beckoning that had called out to him ever since he had entered the forest had to mean something. If there was a demon behind all this, Jaden would have to see it for himself first.

He snuck through the corridors of the manor, passing the paintings of Tassard’s ancestors watching him intrude upon their domain. He was allowing himself to listen now, and the call came from upstairs. His new boots made a soft patter as he hurried toward the source of that summons. He didn’t stop until he was outside the double doors of a room that must surely overlook the village. He could feel her inside. There was no doubt about it.

Was it even his decision? Knowing what awaited him beyond those doors, he allowed the change to overcome him. The shirt tore as his wings unfurled, and his trousers stretched tightly across his wider hips. The veil couldn’t cover the size of his wings, so he drew back the magic that allowed it to change his appearance. With a push, both doors swung open to admit him inside.

It was obvious where most of the decorations had gone. The sparseness in the rest of the manor had been explained by how the baron had moved here from a townhouse in Farcrest, and they had much more space now. But that had been many years ago. No, the wealth of the baron had been channelled into making this room as opulent, as decadent as possible.

Red silks fell in graceful waves from the walls, brass fireplaces made it almost uncomfortably hot. The air was heavy with strangely familiar incense. As Jaden stood by the threshold, he realised he had been here before, yet this was the first time.

Sitting on a couch to the side were the baron and baroness, holding hands. They looked incredibly pleased with themselves. Jaden could see the nether energies worm its way around inside them.

By the windows stood a woman of Callandra’s size, but instead of Albander brown hair, hers was glossy and black, contrasting against her red skin. Her leathery wings were folded against her back, with the tips touching the base of the tail that was moving back and forth of its own accord. Small horns rose from that black hair, and her large breasts hung free in unabashed nakedness. Despite the differences; to Jaden, it was like looking at a mirror.

She turned around and looked at him.

“Oh, hello. I’m so pleased you finally came. What do I call you, sister?” The demon’s voice was like honey and molten butter.

"I'm Jaden," he said, feeling his tail swish back and forth.

"No you're not." She stretched her wings languidly. "I can smell the Drigorii in you. I was wondering who you were hiding inside. Are you a handmaiden of the Watching One?"

"I'm..." Jaden trailed off. He had never met another demon like her before. The sudden burst of kinship was almost overwhelming. He shook his head to clear it; his friends were fighting in the streets, and they needed him now. This was up to him. "Ashomi. I'm Ashomi."

"What a darling name, oh sister Horizon. I'm Amucia, of the Lectii," she offered a playful curtsy with her wings spread out. “Tassard? Leave us.”

The nethermancer couple just bowed at their mistress, and silently left the room. This was a business between visitors, unfit for humans.

“What are you doing to this village, Amucia?” Jaden demanded as soon as they were alone, taking a step closer to the demon.

“Are you jealous?” Amucia covered her mouth as she laughed, a gesture Callandra had used earlier. “Aren’t they just precious, my pretties? They dance as I will them to, and the energy I take from them is delicious.”

“This stops right now. Release them and end the fighting, or I will destroy you!” Jaden fixed Amucia with as angry a look as he could manage. He could afford to show the fear inside.

“Oh my! Sister, I had no idea this was your hunting ground. You should have said something.” The demon pouted, touching her lips with a finger. “You should have come visited too. My servants have been here for years, after all.”

“It’s not! I want you gone because you’re hurting people!” Jaden began to see that there would be no rational discussion here, but he couldn’t help himself. The mind of the demon was too different from that of men.

“What are you talking about, sister?” Amucia put her hands on her hips and looked a bit annoyed. Her tail was swishing as much as Jaden’s was.

“Stop calling me that! Hellfire!” Jaden brought down his hands, and the far end of the grand room exploded in clinging flames. The silks took fire immediately, spreading across the room.

He heard laughter from the firestorm, and a hand reached out in his direction.

“You want to play? Alright — Hellfire!”

The world around Jaden turned into a blaze, and he felt his clothes smolder. The fires didn’t hurt, however. The warmth just felt… nostalgic. He had other cards up his burning sleeves, though. He made a mental line go through the fire that enveloped Amucia, and then pointed.

“Noctophyx!” A burst of shadowy magic swept across the demon, but he didn’t pause to see the effect before he thrust out with a fist. Maybe she was just resistant to their own fire? “Valignat!”

“Oh! It tickles so!” He could see the demon saunter out through the inferno. The salamander’s fire was consumed by the nether flames almost immediately, but it was worth a try. “Were you trying to weaken me, sister? I have an entire village that feeds me!”

Magic was no good, but what about swords? Jaden drew the blade he had bought at the Tradegate market. He wished for a moment that he had kept his Talraman sword. The enchanted weapon would’ve been useful now. He leapt through the air, almost grazing the ceiling, and slammed the sword as hard as he could into the demon who was just watching him with her head tilted to the side.

“Oof!” Amucia staggered back a few steps, with a gash across her breasts. She ran a finger across the black blood and licked it off her finger. The wound closed before Jaden’s eyes. “This is beginning to bore me, Ashomi. Why don’t we go and play with a toy I caught? It’s being most amusing!”

Much closer to the windows now, Jaden could see the courtyard below. Mirena and Oleander was fighting against the possessed servants of the demon, and most of them were already lying motionless on the ground with knives sticking out of them, or finishing wounds by the knight’s sword. Mirena was fighting strangely, though. She held her symbol in a hand, and used its light to hold the remaining servants at bay. Jaden caught the glow of the sword on the ground a dozen feet away, beyond the servants. The sword was still glowing, despite being out of Mirena’s hands…

“Where are you going?” Amucia called, as Jaden threw himself out of the window, destroyed by the first exchange of fire. His wings brought him over the fighting, and set him down next to the sword. He felt bad about this, but no more so than anything else he had done tonight.

“Mirena! The demon!” Oleander called out, pointing toward Jaden, then slashed the wrists and armpit of a twisted, former man trying to grab her.

“I see it. Wait, what? It took my sword!” Mirena couldn’t believe her eyes. The demon had swept down from its lair and stolen her blessed blade.

Jaden thrust himself back up to the ruined window, his wings effortlessly defying gravity. The sword seared painfully into his palm, but that made him hopeful.

“What are you up to, Horizon? You’re acting very strangely!” Amucia had crossed her arms, and looked with annoyance at him. Well, playtime was over.

Jaden gritted his teeth against the pain in his hand, and swung against the demon again. She flinched back a bit as the glowing blade narrowly missed her, but the reverse swing cut into her arm.

“Ow! What… that really hurts!” Amucia held her bleeding arm, and looked with betrayal at Jaden. “That’s not playing fair. Stop it, sister!”

“I said I’d destroy you, and I will.” As long as he could hold onto the sword, that is. It hurt so much.

“You’re being unreasonable. I have more than enough energy to heal scrapes like these over and over until your hand falls off!” Amucia showed her arm. The wound was mostly gone, though it had taken longer than with his mundane blade.

Amucia was right. She was too strong. Weeks or even months of draining the village had saturated the demon with power, and in turn allowed her to reach even further. It was a dark cycle of ever expanding gluttony.

With her mesmerising hold on the villagers, there was nothing Jaden could do to free them aside from destroying the demon; but destroying her was impossible as long as she kept drawing from her people. However, her magic is not so unlike my own, Jaden realised. We both steal our power from someone else. Perhaps...

Jaden held out his hands with the palms skyward, and reached for the demon. He had let the sword fall to the ground to allow himself to concentrate.

"What, are you finally giving up, sister?" She laughed gaily, covering her mouth with a hand. Too well fed by the energies of her captive village, she didn't notice how the strands of magic began to detach themselves and reach for Jaden instead.

"Siphon!" He grasped the source of her power and pulled as hard as he could. The rush was incredible!

"W- what are you doing? Wait, sister, don't... We can share. I'm not greedy," the demon pleaded with him.

I know how you do what you do. I know how to do what you do. Better than you.

Redwall wasn't his yet, but it wasn't hers either. He would contest her hold on the village as long as he could. Cut off from her source, she was vulnerable at last.

Jaden felt the nether energies soak through his body. The demon had been feasting on the village for weeks, and she was completely flooded with power. The twice stolen vitality caused something inside him to open its eyes from dormancy, synergising with his own nature, but he couldn't think of that right now. He would pay the price later. It was just one more thing to be afraid of.

“Enough, Ashomi! You want to protect humans so badly? How about you protect the one who wouldn’t accept my hospitality?”

“Rhyce? Where is he, you bitch?” Jaden kept drawing as much of her strength as he could.

“I just told my servants to kill him. He’s in the shed behind the mansion. If you hurry, you can save him,” Amucia glared at the Mystic.

Mirena was trained to move in her armour, but running up those stairs was more of an exertion than she wanted to admit. She had seen the demon land in a chamber above the entrance. Oleander had passed her easily, and waited at the top of the stairs with knives ready if something jumped out at them. Their backs were clear, though. The two women had left none of the servants moving. Mirena felt the unclean presence in the house clearly now.

The twin doors to the chamber stood open, and fires burned along the walls. That was usually a sign that Jaden had been here, and they hurried forward to help their friend. Why he had decided to fight the demon alone was not important right now. As they looked inside, what they saw was unexpected.

“There are two of them?” Oleander groaned. They had assumed there was more than one demon from the start, but as they kept running into servants and thralls, she had begun hoping this was the work of a single mastermind. “And why is one of them wearing a scarf?”

“Not now, Oleander. Look, what are they doing?” Mirena pointed at the two demons, who seemed to be locked in some sort of stand-off. They were talking to each other, but she couldn’t make out what was being said.

Suddenly, one of them pointed toward the doors she and Oleander stood by, and the other looked their way with a fearful expression.

Jaden looked toward where Amucia had indicated. He remembered the shed around the back, next to the wagon houses. He could make it there in time. He had to. Wait, was that Rena and Ollie by the doors? Maybe they had a chance yet.

He reached down and grabbed the glowing sword again, the pain reigniting in his burnt hand. Before Amucia could say anything, he leapt through the room and landed next to his friends. Oleander started to move up to attack him, with Mirena readying her shield, when he flipped the sword in his hands and offered her the hilt.

“Get her,” he all but commanded, then pushed past into the mansion. He could get to the back faster by going through, rather than around. Jaden crashed through two doors before going out a window. Mountain, Telum, stars and ancestors, let him be in time.

Mirena held her sword mutely for a heartbeat, and both she and the redhead stared at the trail of destruction the scarfed demon had caused as she fled. When Mirena and that demon had been face to face, she had felt a strangely familiar sensation. As if she knew this being. Then she looked back into the burning room and saw the remaining one. That demon sneered at them.

“Humans. You were interrupting a family affair, and you broke all my toys. I will have to replace them, with you!”

“Fall before the might of Telum!” Mirena charged in, drawing the demon’s attention.

“Wonderful. The paladin. Still looking for heaven in all the wrong places, little girl?” The demon leapt back from the arc of the glowing blade, and unleashed a jet of fire against her attackers. Mirena held up her shield and prayed.

The knives Oleander threw seemed like they just made the demon angrier, and she had to dodge out of the way as even more fire came her way. She was running out of knives. If they lived through this, she would try to get her hands on one of those knives that came back after you threw it. Her foot bumped into a fireplace that had been hidden by one of those long silk drapes. Why would they put braziers in the room if they had a fireplace already? Her eyes paused on a sharp-looking fire-poker.

The knight and the demon fought back and forth. Mirena couldn’t get close enough to strike, and the demon’s fire couldn’t get past her shield. The heat was beginning to be unbearable, though. Mirena knew that if this turned into a battle of attrition, she would lose.

“Are you praying, paladin? No miracle will come. You will make a precious slave once I hollow your soul out for my servants to fill,” the demon taunted, as she flew back from yet another swing.

“Back home, I knew an old man who collected butterflies,” a voice came out of the haze that filled the room. The demon suddenly shrieked, as an iron poker ripped through one of her wings and nailed her to the floor.

“You unwashed, ugly beast! I will laugh when your owner claims your marked soul!” She cursed at the redhead.

With no way of fleeing now, the demon just screamed at the advancing knight. After exhausting her breath, the demon smiled sweetly.

“I surrender! I am now your prisoner, and expect fair treatment as befits my status. That’s what your people do, right? Take care of your prisoners? What do you say to that?”

“I am the Sword of Heaven,” Mirena replied, and swung her sword with all the might of Telum.

Something had changed. The man-creatures stopped pressing the heated tip of the knife against his body for a while, staring at the door. Then they turned back, with their heads at an odd angle.

“The Mistress says to kill you,” spoke the first.

“Death,” explained the other.

“The end.”

Rhyce had made his peace. He had counted each blow, every cut. It might be enough.

The door burst open, sending broken pieces of wood flying. The creatures barely had time to turn around before the winged vengeance was upon them.

“Not the Mistre-“ The clipped voice was cut short as the red-skinned woman smashed its head into the wall, making the shed shake. The other one quieted as quickly when her wing slammed it up against the roof.

Rhyce heard the crows call out. He could barely cling to consciousness and hung limply in his manacles and chains. His left eye was swollen shut, and the other bloodied, but he could still make out the woman in front of him.

"Princess of fire, have you come to claim me for my sins?" Rhyce managed to rasp out, sounding relieved even through his pain. She stopped halfway through the shed, next to the unmoving former men.

"No, I've come to free you."

"Have I finally paid my dues? Are the scales balanced?" He needed to hear something. Anything.

"Yes. Your sins are washed clean by your blood." Jaden didn't know if his words made any difference, but one look at his friend told him enough.

"At last. Maybe the faces will stop staring at me in my dreams..." Rhyce slumped in his chains, allowing himself to rest.

Jaden grabbed at the chains where they were nailed to the wall. They slowly began to glow with heat as his inner fire rushed to the surface; the wood smouldered, and metal softened enough for him to pull them apart. He caught the unconscious man when the last chain broke, and helped him from the place where he fought demons both within and without.

He gently held the archer as they left the torture-shed. It was strange how easy it was to carry the grown man, but Jaden could feel the siphoned power dissipate rapidly. That meant that the source had been killed, just as if one of his pact-bound creatures had died.

Jaden laid his friend down on the grass next to the shed, and stared up at the windows of the house for a long while. He could see no other fighting going on, and the feeling of darkness had begun to recede. A movement to his left showed two people riding away along a forest path. A man and a woman. He wanted to chase them, but he couldn’t leave Rhyce in this state.

"Demon! Step away from that man!" Mirena had a half-healed gash on her face, and held her glowing sword raised against Jaden. Oleander was circling around, trying to remain unnoticed. Was she carrying a fireplace poker?

He raised his hands palms outward, a gesture of peace. He had to do something before the situation escalated out of control.

"Rh- This man was being kept in the shed over there. I freed him." He moved a bit to be able to see both of the women at once.

"I said step AWAY from him. You will get no second chance!" Mirena was close enough to rush him, from Jaden's experience.

"I'm not with that... other demon. I tried to stop her. Didn't you see us fight when you arrived?" His palm still bore the black char where Mirena's sword had burnt him.

"... Yes. I did. Why did you fight her, and free our friend?"

"Mirena! Let's just get her, like we got her girlfriend up there!" Oleander had managed to slip out of sight again.

"I'm NOT her friend. I would've killed her myself, if she hadn't ordered her lackeys to finish off Rhyce!"

Mirena stopped in her tracks, looking surprised. Jaden cursed himself silently.

"How do you know his name?" She accused. "Have you been spying on us?"

"Oh, for the love of..." Jaden was about to lower his hands when a threatening motion of Mirena's sword brought them up again. "No! I'm not a spy! I was fighting her because she was hurting people."

"Why do you care? You demons are all monsters!" Oleander spat from her position behind Jaden.

Mirena took a long look at Jaden, and slowly lowered her sword. Oleander gasped.

"What... are you?" The knight asked, looking honestly perturbed.

"I'm... sorry. If you'll let me, I'll go. After all, there's a lot more of the demon's creatures to clean up before the village is safe." Jaden let his hands fall to his sides.

Both the other women risked a short look toward the village. The noise of fighting reached them.

"You are right, whoever you are. We must save as many people as we can. I sense no evil intent in you, visitor. You are free to go."

"Thank you, Knight." Jaden turned to go.

"Will we see you again?" Mirena called after him.

Every day, Jaden thought, as he threw himself into the air.

Jaden landed in a small forest clearing not too far away. He had to return to his formal form to be able to join up with his friends again, since his mirage veil couldn’t cover extra limbs such as his wings or tail. Most of his clothes were simply ruined, but he noticed with a wry sense of humour that his boots still fit wonderfully. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about what the cost of this change would be as he drew the spirit back inside his body. The summer night was warm enough that he didn’t mind being essentially naked, but the loss of his chemise was a pity. The veil was brought to life once again with a trickle of magic, hiding him in a familiar illusion.

Jaden hoped he wouldn’t be too late to help his friends, though how he would do that would have to wait. With a frustrated grunt, he realised he had lost his sword again, up in the burning pleasure-room of the demon. He didn’t much enjoy the idea of going back up in the mansion, so he set off back toward Redwall, happy that his boots had survived.

The sight that awaited him was spectacular. Kellen had raised walls of stone to keep the enthralled villagers at bay while they fought the much more dangerous soulless servants. After the demon had fallen, most of the people had simply collapsed down in a stupor, and between Kellen’s magic and Stann’s sword they held their own with only a few cuts and scrapes to show for it. Mirena and Oleander hadn’t returned yet, but Jaden expected them to stay with and take care of Rhyce.

“Little brother!” Stann called out when he saw Jaden jog up from between two houses. “Where have you been?”

“I, uh, was held up,” the Mystic offered lamely.

“The entire battle? I’m disappointed in you. We could have used that weakening magic of yours to avoid hurting the villagers,” Stann looked saddened, and gave the younger man a once-over. Jaden looked, as always, untouched by the battle. It could only mean one thing — his little brother had avoided the fight altogether. It hurt the Northman that Jaden might be turning into a coward.

“I’m… sorry, Bear. How are things here?” Jaden looked around and tried to change the subject.

“There may be a couple more of those doll-faced demonthings, but as a whole I believe the village is secure,” Kellen pointed at the unaffected helping their senseless neighbours back into their homes. “I think we should be thankful that we all survived.”

“The demon is destroyed, as well. That’s the only explanation for the villagers returning to normal. That’s good,” Jaden nodded at a comatose woman lying in a heap next to the centre well.

“There’s that,” Stann grumbled, and began to look around after more demon-servants.

A while later, a black carriage weaved its way unsteadily along the main street. By now, most people had been helped into houses, so there was no reason for the driver to steer like that. When it came closer, Jaden couldn’t help but smile. Oleander sat at the bench and wrestled with the reins like they were live snakes. The carriage managed to slow down to a stop nearby the tavern, more due to the routine of the horses than the skill of the driver.

“Everyone alright?” Kellen called as he jogged up to take the reins from the redhead. There was no need for her to keep pulling at them now, after all.

“Rena and I are fine, but we… uh, we found Rhyce, and he’s in pretty bad shape.” Oleander hopped down and opened the carriage door.

Mirena had stayed by his side during the trip, continuing to bring the blessings of her god to the archer. The worst injuries, those that might have proven fatal if left alone, had healed. She brushed his hair back, and saw all the burn marks around his scalp. These would need healing as well, or he would scar badly. At her touch, Rhyce shifted a bit, regaining some consciousness. Despite the pain he must be feeling, a faint smile came to his lips when he opened his eyes.

In the carriage was also the son of the baron. They had found Kalen sitting in his room, staring into space, despite the fire a few doors away. Not the ones to leave a child by itself in a burning building, they brought him along. Hopefully, now that the demon was gone, he might regain his former self along with the rest of the village.

The village of Redwall couldn’t be more thankful. By next morning, most of those who had fallen under the thrall of the demon had returned to normalcy. To them, it had been a strange, hazy dream that seemed to unreal, but one they would have to live with for the rest of their lives.

Kalen remained locked inside himself, but he had been exposed much longer, and much more than everyone else. Samul, who had also privately tutored the boy since the baron settled here, took it upon himself to help take care of Kalen. With the boy’s parents missing and his sister dead, he had no one else. When the news of the Tassard’s nethermancy and demon-summoning reached the capital, they would no doubt lose their lands and titles, but there was hope that Kalen’s uncle, the baron of Oakborough, would adopt the boy.

As for Redwall itself, the king of Alband would have to appoint a temporary governor until a new noble could fill the void. But that was for the future days to tell.

The next morning the group sat together to discuss what had happened. As the only guests at the Woodsman’s Cup, and everyone else spending their time resting at home, it was very quiet. Even the keeper, Beryl, sensed their needs and left them alone.

It was not an easy morning for Jaden. His abandoning of Oleander, and general disappearance during the fighting, caused a lot of concerned looks in his direction. Finally, he realised that he couldn’t just assume everything would be alright. He had to say something. He just wished it could’ve been the truth, but truth would not help anyone right now.

"I have something to say, and I'll ask you to let me finish speaking. Please." Jaden looked as uncomfortable as he felt. There would be enough lying to his friends today.

Stann opened his mouth, but managed to hold back whatever was on his mind. For now. Mirena motioned for him to go on, and kept her face a study of neutrality. She wouldn’t judge until she had listened. Oleander looked both worried, and a fleeting glimpse of something else. Rhyce simply rested against the wall, his eyes open in small slits. Kellen looked almost as disappointed as his cousin.

"I... I'm sorry for my actions yesterday." Jaden began. "We have been fighting so much lately... My magic has been almost completely depleted. I had no salamander's fire left, and without my magic sword..." That he had traded for vanity.

Stann started to understand and spoke, forgetting about his promise to wait for Jaden to finish.

"Why didn't you tell us you weren’t in any condition to fight?" The warrior demanded, slamming a hand into the table.

"I didn't want you to feel I would be a... a liability to the group. I wanted to help. I want to help, as best as I can, but without most of my magic I'm not strong enough to fight demons. I'm sorry for not telling you about this." Saying it hurt him. They were his friends, and they deserved the truth. But lies came easier than truth right now.

"You're right about that. You SHOULD have told us," Mirena said firmly. "We're a group, Jaden. We support one another. If one is weakened, the others step forward to give aid. That's what friends do. Don't stay quiet about things like this. That goes for all of you!"

Jaden felt ashamed for things he hadn't done, and the lies he had told his friends. There was only one thing left to do. One more string to pluck.

"I was too proud to admit it, and that was wrong. Can you forgive me?" He had a hard time meeting their eyes. Deceiving his friends was wrong, but what could he do?

Stann was already on his feet and grabbed Jaden in a firm bearhug.

"There's nothing to forgive, little brother! You are still young, and will do many other stupid things."

"Like Stann!" Said his cousin.

"Yes! Like me!" Northmen forgave as easily as they swore vengeance.

Stann put Jaden back on the floor, and stepped back to stare at him critically. Had the Northman felt something when he grabbed Jaden by surprise? He was different now, after all.

"But we must do something about you. You're so thin, I was afraid I'd snap you in half. You'll never recover your strength if you don't eat properly."

"It doesn't work like that, St-" Jaden got cut off as the bear warrior dragged him to Beryl, demanding that they'll be served three breakfasts. Stann intended to watch his little brother eat every single one of them.

Oleander sat down on the other side next to Jaden, and berated him for leaving her alone. Between Stann all but shoving the spoon into his mouth, and the redhead pulling out embarrassing old stories to punish him with, it was as normal a breakfast as he could expect.

Back in their rooms, Rhyce was lying on his stomach with Mirena sitting at the edge of the bed.

"What do you think about Jaden's confession?" Mirena wondered idly, as she ran her hands over the last wounds on Rhyce's back.

"He wasn't entirely forthcoming with us, but that can easily have been him translating his brand of magic to us. I don't think any of us truly understand what Jaden does."

"Maybe. I too got the feeling that something was off. He's proven himself time and again before, though." Mirena would not forget how he stood by her when they fought the Sons of Husk. It would take more than an odd apology or strange absence to change that. "I tried speaking with him about what it meant to be a Mystic before, but even then I got the feeling he was holding something back."

Rhyce let out a breath as the light from Mirena's blessed symbol mended his flesh. He didn't say anything else. He valued the secrets of others. There was no need to say anything at the moment.

The crows on top of the shed had seen a winged demon land in a small clearing next to the village, but another being had left it. A princess of fire in disguise.

EPILOGUE

Change is a fact of life. It happens whether we want it to or not. Change can come suddenly, or it can happen so slowly you didn’t even realise how much have happened until you look back across your life. If we let it, though, it can change our lives for the better.

The aftermath of the second battle of Redwall left an impression on the village, both in the hearts and in the streets. Kellen’s earth magic had avoided damaging most buildings too much, but it still looked as if there had been an earthquake. The rune seeker was very busy during the next couple of days, restoring the village to its former look and making sure the fires of the mansion didn’t spread to the forest.

Mirena organised the repairs efforts, and making sure that a house that unfortunately had been too badly damaged was demolished properly.

Oleander and Stann felt a little left out, not having any useful magical talents to help out with the efforts, but they found themselves running an improvised daycare for the village children while most adults were busy with putting their homes back together. For a moment, it felt just like old times for the redhead, surrounded by children.

During the first evening they returned to the Tassard mansion and poked around. It was strange, the fires hadn’t spread from the one room, but in there everything had turned to ash. Even metal. The rest had been left in good shape, aside from the damaged adjoining inner walls, and while poking around in the baron’s study they came across some pretty damning evidence that showed how he and his wife had been avid occultists, but without talent of their own, they borrowed their magic power through demonic pacts. Pacts, that eventually led them to giving up one of their own children to host their dread matron. Pacts, that also, unfortunately, had assured them wealth and success. How this would affect Redwall, only time would tell, but the village’s dream of greatness might have been only a brief glimpse, soon lost.

Rhyce refused to stay in bed, despite Mirena’s orders. They reached an agreement that he could be up, as long as he wasn’t moving around too much. The village abuzz with repairs and recovery wasn’t for him, though, and he spent most of the time in the tavern’s backyard, feeding a couple of crows that kept him company however often Beryl chased them away with her broom.

Something had changed within the archer, though. Whatever had happened to him in that shed had made him a bit different. He was happy, as Rhyce went, to talk when someone sat down with him. He might not talk for a long time, or say much, but it was a change. He seemed more relaxed, somehow, instead of his previous vigilance. He also kept glancing at Jaden whenever they were in the same room, but none of them touched the subject.

And Jaden? Like Oleander and Stann, his talents were not suitable for rebuilding, so instead he spent most of the time helping Samul’s wife Romi cook for the working people of the village. The weather was kept nice enough that meals were had together outside, where most villagers attended. It brought the community together in a comfortable way, allowing those unaffected by the demon’s influence to come to accept that their friends and family had been returned to them.

It had been difficult, though. During the first night, once the fighting had stopped and people returned to their homes, Jaden and the rest were back at the Woodsman’s Cup. Rhyce had been given a room of his own to rest, which left Jaden alone too. Once his friends had gone to their rooms, Jaden was still awake. Draining the demon of her power had invigorated him enough to chase away the need for sleep. Instead, he found himself in the washroom. The tavern’s keeper had received a large mirror from the baron as a gift, and Beryl had put it inside the washroom so everyone could use it. It was full length, which was rare this far away from large cities.

It was a hard thing, losing yourself bit by bit like this. The face that looked back at him in the mirror was more like his sister's than his own. There were definite differences, of course. You could see the family resemblance, but while Lilya's was hard and strong, his was softer and... sad. Taking Amucia’s power had accelerated the already unnatural drift by magnitudes.

"This is who I am now," Jaden told himself. "Even if I never call on her again after tonight, nobody will mistake me as anything but a girl."

It was one of the things he hadn't been able to figure out before leaving Talraman. Why had his changes come so quickly? The drift was a slow and gradual process. His father had worn his dragon's form several times before the marks even started to appear. Jaden had changed six times, counting today. Six. How was this fair? How was this even possible?

The masters back home had spoken about the drift, how the speed and extent varied from Mystic to Mystic depending on how closely the spirit resonated with the magician. There was no such thing as complete harmony, of course, but over time the differences between the two would fade. But in his case, this couldn't be true. Nobody was further from their spirit than he. So how was this happening?

Jaden reached up to touch his face. He didn't flinch as his arm brushed against his larger chest this time.

The spirit and the Mystic were supposed to be as one after the spiritquest was completed. But he had never felt that close bond. No, for him it was as if they stood at either side of the world, a different horizon at their backs. How could he come to terms with that enormous duality? How could he fully accept this life?

He stood in front of the tall mirror, and quietly removed his clothes. Even with it right before his eyes, he could still not bridge that divide. Could he ever think of himself like that? As a woman? The person in the mirror certainly looked like she could. Would he be happier if he tried to see the world through her eyes, even if only for a little while?

Change was the very heart of the Lacunai. Their life was dedicated change. They embraced it, despite not knowing where it would take them. No matter what Jaden had done since leaving the mountain, he had never stopped thinking of himself as a Mystic. He had fought the change, but change had touched him anyway.

Here he was, with people he had grown to love. They were strange, driven, and sometimes frustrating to be around, but he loved them anyway. Couldn't he learn to love the person in the mirror as well?

"Hello," Jaden told the mirror. He could do this. He could be this. Just this once. "My name is Jaden. I'm a Lacunai Mystic, and I'm a... a girl."

Acceptance was always the first step. Saying it aloud didn't hurt as much as expected. In fact, it didn't hurt at all. Where the pain should have been, there was just a sense of relief welling up inside instead. Like a pain you had grown used to suddenly letting up. With that realisation, other feelings rushed up as well. Fear, of what the future might bring; regret, of the things that had led up to this point; but mostly, a wave of warm support from within. Finally, the harmony.

Those feelings went beyond the twin horizons of her heart.

END OF BOOK ONE

* * *

Well, this has been an experience! I never thought I’d write something of this length, but here we are!

I hope you enjoyed reading Horizons of the Heart as much as I loved writing it. I’ve learned so much in the process, lessons I’ll remember when I begin with the next book (there will be one!).

Thanks for all the support, the help, and the encouraging comments. That warms all the heartplaces inside this newbie author :D