The Void of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood Book 3)(105)

Maia stifled a sobbing laugh. “How did you reach me so quickly?”

He took some deep breaths to steady himself, lying still. “I will be brief, for once, because I am not much in the mood . . . for talk. I happened upon Collier at the Battleaxe. What a fine name for an inn! He was near death, poor man, and swooned from the loss of blood. I did what I could for him and then brought him to a wagon bound for Muirwood. I was a bit . . . impatient with the wagon master, grant me that, but I got him to the abbey straight away. They all laid hands on him. Maston stuff. He roused enough to tell us he had named you his heir in the event of his death, and then charged me to go after you. I came on the Argiver.”

“But how did you know where to go?” Maia asked, grabbing his wrist and holding tight.

He smiled. “We were at Muirwood, lass. Do you know how many Aldermastons are there right now? By Cheshu, one from each kingdom, at the least!” He sighed and rested a bit, his green eyes roaming the ruins around them. “Go to the lost abbey, they said. And so I did. You left a trail easy to follow, I warrant you.” He sighed, his eyelids drooping.

Maia looked up and saw the sun fading quickly. As she stared at it, feeling gratitude and concern for her friend, she noticed someone approaching from the abbey ruins above. An older man with a long, gnarled stick poked his way down the path at a breakneck pace. She recognized him instantly.

“Maderos,” she whispered in surprise.

“What?” Jon Tayt muttered. He tried to lift his head and failed. Maia cradled his head in her lap, watching as the crooked-legged man made his way toward them.

Maderos was fat around the middle, his dark wiry hair silvered with gray. He paused to rest for a moment on the gnarled staff. His tunic was spattered with dirt and dust, and she could see the gleam of the chaen from his collar.

Jon Tayt’s eyes closed, his head drooping.

“Jon!” Maia begged with concern, clutching his shirt to shake him.

“Let him rest, little sister,” Maderos crooned with a wry smile. “He has not slept in many days, and he suffers a grievous wound.”

Maia bit her lip as she watched the steady rise and fall of the hunter’s chest. She stroked his chest and plucked a piece of bark from his tangled beard. In a moment, he started to snore, and the sound brought a wash of relief through her.

“Will he live?” Maia asked the wayfarer.

Maderos lifted his eyebrows. “I write the words after they happen, sister. Not before. Time heals. We shall see. But Muirwood needs you now. You must leave.”

Maia stared at the bearded face, agonizing over the thought of leaving him so injured. But she felt the Medium’s will clanging in her skull like a bell. She gently set Jon Tayt’s head down on the heath. She stroked the copper curls off his damp forehead, feeling such deep tenderness for her friend. She had lost Argus. The thought of losing Jon Tayt too tortured her. It was painful leaving him.

“Come,” Maderos offered, holding out his hand. “It is time.”

She looked at the sinking sun again, watching as it descended toward the horizon. “Is there time, Maderos?” she asked. “Something terrible will happen at sunset. The Medium has been warning me of it.”

“Yes, little sister. We must hurry. Hold my arm.” He offered his elbow to her and led her back up the hill toward the ruins, his other hand wielding his staff. Instead of taking her toward the black gap of the hetaera’s lair, he walked along to the left. They passed broken pillars and moldering stone. A few birds called down from the branches, the only witnesses of their presence in the woods. She glanced back one last time to the fallen bodies of the hunter and the kishion.

Maia had wandered the grounds on her first visit with the kishion, but she did not remember this area. A few toppled columns had fallen into each other. As she approached, she felt the presence of a Leering. She recognized it from earlier—it was the one that was causing the curse on the land. It was a Blight Leering. Maderos took her to it, crossing a broken archway that no longer supported anything.

The Blight Leering was a massive boulder surrounded by crumbling fragments of stone. The face on the Leering was so worn by time that she could not determine if it was a man or a woman. The boulder was smooth, almost polished. She felt power radiating from it, summoning the sickness and poisons that scarred the cursed shores. It brought the wolf spiders, the ticks, the venomous serpents. It created a haven that the Fear Liath was happy to call home. Power had been emanating from it for centuries, destroying the land bit by bit.

She felt the urge to touch it.

Maia reached forth her hand, but Maderos stopped her.

“You can silence it, child,” he said respectfully, blocking her hand. “But do not touch it. The Blight is not what you must unleash upon the Naestors.” He extended the staff and gestured to the ruins. “You must rebuild this abbey and safeguard these Leerings. End the Blight on this land. It will become an inheritance for those you trust. Those from Assinica and other lands who wish to stay here.”

Maia nodded. In her mind, using her Gift of Invocation, she silenced the Blight Leering. The power thrumming through the boulder quieted. A breeze wafted into the ruins, and Maia heard the flutter of silk. Turning, she saw another archway by the toppled columns at the perimeter of the ruin, nearer to the rubble of the lost abbey. It was an Apse Veil.

Maderos smiled. “When you were in the tunnel, you sensed this place, sister,” he told her. “Back when you first came here. The Medium whispered to you. It invited you to come to this place, but Ereshkigal clouded your mind. She made you fear what you did not know. Now that you have opened the Apse Veil again, you can pass back to Muirwood. You must save them, Maia.”