The Grove(74)

“It is best if we keep it that way. For now . . . we will observe. We will continue to find representatives of the Gods and Goddesses so that the Convocation can be reconvened. We will gather support, and lend covert aid to those who are at this time free to act more openly . . . and we will watch for any sign of such foolish attempts in the near future.” Parting her hands, she held one out to Guardian Shon. The other, she held out toward Aradin. “These two of our Brothers, Guardian-Witch Shon Tastra, and Witch Aradin Teral, are already tied into the efforts of the world’s Guardians to seek out the source of these visions and stop the demons in their tracks.

“You will report to Shon and his Guide Tastra as your primary contact . . . and if you cannot find either of them, you will report to Aradin and his Guide Teral. Mark the names and faces of these Hosts; seek and get to know their Guides. For those of you who have stayed within Darkhana, take solace in the work you do in the stead of those who must wander. Say whatever you will here in the Dark, but speak not a word of this in Life—let the demons think we know nothing! Let them think they catch us off guard, even as we set our snares and our traps.

“This is our world, and we will keep it that way.”

“Praise Dark Ana!” someone shouted. “Praise Darkhan!” someone else added. It was joined by a reverent, “For the world!” and an even louder, “For the love of the world!” The rest began chanting and singing, clasping hands and dancing as they swung back into their celebrations.

Serious plans would be laid later, but for now, the men and women, living Hosts and spirit Guides, needed something cheerful to do in the face of such disturbing news. The Dark was not the place to think of strong, unhappy thoughts. Not when a strong thought could become a force of will, and one’s will literally created the reality of this strange place.

Orana moved up beside Aradin, her hand touching his shoulder. “Sorry to put you on the spot like that, Aradin Teral,” she murmured, naming both him and his absent Guide. “But the Dark tells me you’ll actually be more involved than Shon Tastra, in your own way.”

Aradin accepted her warning with a slight nod. It often took him several moments of concentration, of focusing his thoughts and his will firmly enough to query the Dark and receive a response. He had only been a Witch for a little over a decade; Orana and her Guide Niel had been doing so since before the Shattering of Aiar, and no doubt could receive a response with a single, swift thought.

“I bow to your superior strategy, Sir Orana,” he returned, referring to her status as an Arbran Knight of renown. She had been born and raised a Darkhanan, and selected to be a Host, but her Guide was not, and had never been, a Darkhanan Witch. Aradin knew many of the details of how the two had come to be paired, such as the curse that kept them alive and effectively immortal. Resurrecting the Convocation of Gods and Man was their path to ending that curse, and the task which all Witches had pledged to assist, including himself. “For the time being, I am but a simple Hortimancer, striving to restore the Grove. My contact, the Guardian of the Grove, will be involved in some way. I will strive to be a liaison for the Guardians as well as for my fellow Witches.”

She tipped her head for a long moment, thinking quietly, then gave him a wry smile. Squeezing his shoulder, Witch Orana said, “Please pass along my apologies to your Keeper friend for the Shattering of Aiar and the mangling of her Grove. Let her know the Dark approves of the two of you working to make amends for the centuries of neglect in that place. You in particular should be extra sincere when kneeling in the Holiest Garden of Jinga and Kata. Your prayers will be heard in such a holy place, and judged accordingly.”

Okay . . . Bowing, Aradin excused himself from her presence. As much as he pitied and admired the other Witch, Orana Niel also unnerved him. Particularly at times like this. I’d give up quite a lot to avoid being so God-touched as those two . . . yet she’s just told me I’m more or less God-touched as well. Dark Ana, take pity on me and my Guide; all Teral ever wanted was to be an envoy and a world-traveling merchant, while all I’ve wanted is to be a successful Hortimancer.

Of course, they already were what they wanted to be, both him and Teral; the problem was, those occupations now came with world-changing headaches attached. Grove messes and Netherdemon invasions, and Goddess-blessed who-knows-what. He lifted his gaze to the dark mists swirling far overhead in lieu of actual stars. I hope at the very least You’re being entertained by all of this, he thought at his Patron Deities, and spared a thought for the Patrons of Katan as well. I’d hate for all this craziness to pass unappreciated.