The Void of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood Book 3)(98)

Danger.

She stopped short, feeling the whisper in her mind like a clarion call.

“What?” he asked her, stopping too, his body tense as he began searching the forest for trouble.

Maia stood silently and listened to the wind rustling through the mossy trees. Closing her eyes, she opened herself up to the Medium’s will. She felt the breeze rustle her cloak, her skirts, her hair. She repeated the pledge she had made in Naess to serve the Medium, in an effort to cast aside all her pride, all her sorrow and grief. She shed these things like stained garments.

The breeze kicked up and she heard a marsh bird call.

Murer is here. Stop the hetaera from returning.

Maia opened her eyes. She had rarely heard the Medium’s whispers so clearly, so cuttingly. In her mind, she could see the lost abbey, could see a small camp near the garden wall. There Murer was, dabbing ointment against the bite marks on her cheek, her expression angry as she felt the ugly welts. There were six Dochte Mandar as well. And a kishion.

“What do you hear?” the kishion asked her.

“We are not alone,” Maia answered, opening her eyes.





The kishion scowled with anger as he regarded the small camp near the ruins of the lost abbey. He had anticipated finding refuge in this place, not enemies, but the Victus had ruined his plans.

“Do you see her over there?” Maia asked at his shoulder. Two Dochte Mandar were sitting before a small smoking fire, talking in low voices. The others were roaming the ruins, examining the Leerings and admiring the devastation of the place. Maia could feel the Leerings speak to her, like a chorus of dozens of small voices. These were the ruins of an actual abbey, and many of the Leerings still worked and had not been harvested by the Naestors.

One, in particular, struck her with the force of its power. It was coming from inside the abbey, and she could sense the power radiating from it. It was a Blight Leering. It was causing the land to become inhospitable. It seemed to recognize her, a maston in its presence, and she felt its will and power nudging against her mind.

“I see no sign of the girl,” the kishion said, squinting. “Perhaps she went inside. A man cannot enter that lair.”

“I must go after her,” Maia said.

“Wait until dark,” the kishion replied angrily. “It is barely noonday. We cannot approach without being seen. Why not wait until she comes out? Let me kill her.”

Maia shook her head. “No, I must stop her now. The Medium bids me to go.”

He grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back behind the boulder, his face angry. “There are six Dochte Mandar and a kishion down there!” he snarled.

Maia felt a burning confidence inside her as the Medium swelled within her breast. She felt the Leerings below them thrum in response. Some of their eyes began to glow. Shouts of warning rang out from the Dochte Mandar below.

“What are you doing?” the kishion demanded hotly, grabbing a fistful of her gown with his hand.

“Nothing,” she answered, feeling a little helpless and giddy against the flood of power unloosing inside her. “It is the Medium. They cannot stop us. Believe in me.”

Maia pushed him away. A mingled sense of confidence and determination filled her body. She took a deep breath and then started down the little hillock toward the encampment. The kishion swore under his breath and followed in her wake.

The voices down below were speaking in Dahomeyjan. These were Corriveaux’s servants, Maia deduced. She strode quickly, as if a current of water were under her feet, carrying her forward. The sun was just overhead, a stab of light that pierced through the skeletal trees. Huge stone ruins and boulders crowded around, painted green and black with moss and lichen. She felt the Leerings of the area respond as she approached, and the sound of gushing water hit her ears.

“Who is that?” someone shouted. “From the woods!”

Maia heard the twang of a crossbow, and a bolt sliced through the air. As it approached her, the shaft veered wide and shattered against a boulder. She walked with confidence, unafraid of the Dochte Mandar foot soldiers—unafraid of anything. She felt a purpose, a firm purpose inside her. It was noonday. It was the moment of the Medium’s greatest strength.

She felt its power flow through her. The two Dochte Mandar by the campfire had risen and dusted off their black robes. They came at her, their eyes glowing silver.

“Why are you here?” one of them demanded. He had a short beard and a look of rage on his face. The two joined their wills together and hammered at her with a wall of fear. It felt like a small trickle compared to the avalanche inside her. Maia looked at one of them, and suddenly a nearby Leering crackled with energy and a blast of white blinded everyone, followed by a huge clap of thunder.

The two men lay on the ground, their robes smoking. One of them groaned in pain, the other was listless.

Maia continued toward the ruins. Black robes fluttered between the columns of boulders and crumbled supports. She ignored them, focusing on reaching the entrance to the lost abbey. Followed by the kishion, she climbed up the wreckage, recognizing the hidden entrance to the abbey since they had found it once before. Maia scrabbled up the rocks, feeling the winds blow behind and around her. The sky rumbled, and lightning began to streak through the sudden clouds that converged on the hilltop of the lost abbey.

The sun was directly overhead, making Maia’s shadow just a small patch on the ground. She sensed a Leering that could control the wind, and summoned its power, bringing another force to bear against those that the Dochte Mandar were harnessing. The Leerings of the abbey hummed with power. She felt the defenses begin to activate. Light began to shine around them.