Tree of Bone and Mist

Prologue Through an opening in the trees, the light of an autumn moon illuminated a slim, dark-haired woman kneeling before a swollen stream. She thrust her arms into the icy brook then frantically splashed the water on her face and chest. Her ragged breath and muffled cries echoed off the trees in the center of a dense forest. An occasional spark of lightning jabbed at the darkness that cloaked the land. A cloud drifted over the moon for a moment, then sailed free spilling forth an ethereal light upon the woman. Slowly she held her arms up high, tightly holding a necklace so that it glistened in the moonlight. A loud clap of thunder shook her from her obsessive thoughts. As if sensing someone was watching her, the woman quickly put the necklace into a pouch and hid it within the folds of her cloak. Still kneeling beside the creek, she looked up at the moon for just a moment and then let out a chilling howl that was carried on the blowing wind as the storm grew closer. With the singing of the wind and whispers of the ancient trees, the woman's image melted into that of a large black fox. A brilliant green light rose from the animal and with her shape-shift came the smell of damp earth and musty wood. The light dimmed into darkness, and the dull aroma of earth blew away on the wind. Rain started to fall, lightly at first, and then into a driving storm only moments later. A violent shard of lightning slashed across the blackened sky. The moon once again broke free of the dark shadowy clouds, and the shape-shifter fox darted into the cover of the trees. Through mud and rain and a biting wind, she ran with certainty and determination. Thick trees and soft ferns hailed the fox as she silently sped by. Finally, she reached a meadow, soaked from the rain, her thick fur sparkling in the silvery moonlight. She collapsed into the tall grass and filled her lungs with the crisp, moist air. The fragrances of sharp pine and cool meadow grass filled her senses and relaxed her body. It was done-she was home. She finally possessed that which she had for so long yearned to hold. Soon her heart slowed and her breathing became lazy and relaxed. The animal climbed to its feet and looked up to the moon once again. As if coaxed by the soft melody of a night bird the fox's form grew into that of a woman again. Crouched on the ground half hidden in the tall clumps of meadow grass the woman slowly straightened up and stretched her slim arms to the heavens. Her dark skin, slick with rain and mist, glistened in the pale light. A deer darted into the meadow, sniffed the air, then bolted back into the safety of the forest. Quickly the woman turned and headed off into a dense thicket. So unyielding were the bushes, brambles, and trees that they should have impeded the shape-shifter's progress, yet she melted effortlessly into the wood. Pulling her cloak tightly around her body, she traveled further and further into the forest until she reached her destination, the Forest Folk village of Ghroc. Silently the woman made her way down the dark lane. Everyone was peacefully snuggled into their warm beds in a restful slumber. No torches lit up the well-worn paths for all those of the Goyor race could see perfectly even in the blackest of nights. The woman made no sound as she ran down the path to the edge of the village where her cottage sat nestled in the forest. Hastily she slipped inside. The woman made her way to the cupboards and retrieved a glass. She then went to a worn trunk by the fireplace and opened it slowly. Before reaching in, however, she was stopped by a tinge of guilt followed by a wave of paranoia. Cautiously she looked around the room. Then a thin smile curled across her lips, and she chuckled at herself for she shared the cottage with no one. She pulled out a large glass decanter with a jeweled stopper at the narrow mouth. Amber liquid gurgled as it slipped into a waiting glass. With an unsteady hand, she brought it to her lips and took a long passionate drink. The liquor burned down her throat and set her belly aflame. Her lips curved into a satisfied smile as the warmth rushed through her veins. Her troubles seemed to ease away into a tepid sea of comfort. She knew she was to bring nothing of the unblessed into Ghroc, especially this intoxicating drink. But she needed it and longed for the sweet release that it whispered into her ears. She did not care for all the rules of Ghroc. She was sure that it was the rules that caused her mother to leave the village so many years ago. The woman sighed and took another drink. "Did you enjoy your walk?" a deep yet feminine voice called out from the shadows. The woman jumped, surprised by this intrusion and dropped her glass, it shattered on the floor and dark liquor spayed across the hem of her cloak and dress. An old woman came out of the shadowy recesses into a shaft of moonlight burning through an uncovered window. Her thick gray hair was left long, so it bushed around her head like a crown held in place by golden combs said to be a gift from Pom-Ni, the god of the Forest Folk. A wreath of dark green Temmer tree leaves encircled her head. Her weathered old face wore no expression at all. "It will be dawn soon, and you have been gone all night." Her voice was as smooth as a frozen lake. "By the way, how is the Empress of Ventra? I am told she is with child." The woman's tone was sarcastic. "Ventra?" the young woman asked in a shocked voice. "Sun-Song, that is too great a distance for me to walk in one night!" She spoke to the older woman in an unfriendly tone. "But you saw the empress," Sun-Song accused. "You cannot deny it, Baobh. I saw you arrive at that cottage in the forest." The old woman's hands balled into tight fists at each side of her white robe. "You must be overly tired. Go back to your cottage." Baobh smiled wickedly and emptied the decanter into another glass dismissing her accusations. "You are not as secretive as you would like to think. There was a shadow that followed you through meadow, marsh, and forest. I followed you, and I saw what you did to that Archigos woman!" Sun-Song's calm voice cracked escalating into a shout. "You have a murderous heart, Baobh Dark-Water!" she screamed and pointed a long, thin finger at the younger woman. "Old woman, you are mad." Baobh swept her hand in the air in a rude gesture. "Deny it! Deny it if you can!" Sun-Song's eyes grew large. "You have brought shame to all Goyor tonight!" "Go on home, old woman. Go back to your books," Baobh said and turned away from her. "I saw your unspeakable actions. I saw you strike down the Empress of Ventra!" Sun-Song's voice cracked again. "I have killed no one. You are just afraid of those heathens!" Baobh turned and looked into the old emissary's eyes. "Now go, I am tired." "Your persistent hunt of the woman has finally driven you into madness," the old woman whispered. "Is your ambition so great that you murder to feed its hunger?" Baobh reached into the pouch at her waist and felt the cool, smooth stones of the Necklace of Verna. A smile crossed her thick lips. "My hunger is sated." "So, you do not deny it?" Sun-Song asked softly. "Old woman, you need to leave now, or you will greatly regret it." Sun-Song stiffened, her eyes opened wide. Baobh was not sure if it was anger or fear that caused her to quake. A new confidence started to bubble in the pit of her gut. "What you have done tonight will spark a war, not only across the land, but also in the realm of the gods!" "You are a foolish woman," Baobh spat. "I killed the Archigos Empress. She was in possession of something that I had to have." A spark of hunger burned hot in her eyes. "The very instrument I need to take the throne of Sona Tuath-the throne that is rightfully mine!" Sun-Song looked down searching the worn floorboards as if wrestling with some decision and then finally she looked back up at Baobh. "You are as misguided as your mother, Raven. Hopefully she has finally found peace in death." The younger woman flinched at mention of her poor mother, long dead and buried in a simple grave on a grassy bluff overlooking the Carnaid Sea. The older woman slowly walked up to Baobh. "The Goyor are a peaceful race. We are here to tend to the earth, we are the keepers of the balance between nature and the angry outer world. Your desires are unnatural and disgusting! When you came to us you were a girl and we took you in. Though you had been raised in the world of the unblessed we thought that we could instruct you in the ways of your people. We were terribly wrong!" She balled her fists again in determination and coldly searched the depths of Baobh's emerald green eyes. "You will accompany me to the elders and await your punishment." Sun-Song grabbed the younger woman's arm. Baobh tilted her head back and laughed. "You are a foolish woman. You might be of the Emissary Class, but I have the Necklace of Verna!" Sun-Song's eyes widened in shock, and she pulled her hand away from Baobh's arm as if she had been burned. "The powers of the necklace are not for your use." "You feeble-witted old woman, did you think I would be content to live here tending the dirt forever?" Baobh's words dripped with disgust as her lips formed the word "dirt." Sun-Song made a fist and struck Baobh's face with as much force that she could gather. The younger woman landed on the floor with a dull thump. Baobh's hand went to her burning face. She looked up at the woman who was standing over her. Quickly, Baobh grabbed the woman's slim ankle and pulled it from under her causing her to crumple to the ground. She crawled over to the old woman. "Do you really think I would let you strip me of my power as a Goyor and be tried by those worthless Law Keepers?" Baobh whispered into Sun-Song's ear. "I will have more power than you could ever dream of!" Baobh lifted her head and started to laugh, a wild, demented sound, her voice echoing across the room. Sun-Song's hand carefully curled around a large shard of broken glass lying on the floor. Using all her strength, she slashed the shard across Baobh's bronzed face. She screamed in pain and quickly brought her fingers to her face. She took her hands away, retching at the sight of her own bright, red blood dripping from her curled fingers. "You stupid woman!" Baobh hissed, then jumped up and took a knife from its wooden block. "I will kill you, Goyor!" Baobh looked down at the old woman on the floor, the pure white robes of the Emissary now stained red with her blood. Then she sliced into the woman's chest in a blind rage, drunk on the promise of power. The Emissary screamed a howling, painful sound of death. Slow, ragged breaths escaped from her dry mouth as tears fell from bloodied cheeks. Then a small fire of remembrance kindled and burned within the Emissary. She gasped and looked up at the dark figure. "It is you that the prophecy speaks of!" Sun-Song's eye's widened in the horror of this realization. "The ancient prophecy that we have tried in vain to understand, it is clear to me now!" "The prophecy, ha!" Baobh spat on to the floor next Sun-Song who lay dying. "You have killed Empress Kossi, but you will not be without judgment," Sun-Song spoke in a harsh voice. "The Leader Kossi has not died without an heir. This prophecy is yours, black-hearted woman: ‘Fresh from the womb she will be torn away. An heir will be found among people foreign and unblessed, not knowing the ways of the ancients. The blood of two nations will burn within her, divided and separate, though she will unite them. She alone will have the power to strike down the child of the earth who has forsaken her position and swims in the blood of innocent ones. This little one will be a leader of many, richly blessed by the Warrior Goddess. With a mighty hand and a pure heart, she will send the Dark One's soul to its death. Betrayed by her own children-one light-one dark, they will rejoice upon her death!' That is how the prophecy was recorded by our people so long ago, and that is how it will be. Now we know of whom it speaks!" The Emissary grew weak but a faint smile crossed her lips, thankful that the mystery of an ancient prophecy had been revealed to her before she was rendered moribund upon her death. In a rage, Baobh struck Sun-Song one last time. The Emissary sprawled across the floor, her empty eyes staring into the darkness. A rough, ragged scream of rage was torn from Baobh's throat and filled the small cottage. It escaped on a moist breeze down over the village, through the trees, and then out over the fields, where it vanished with the wind. The village of Ghroc was once again in silence. Knowing the whole village would soon be coming to investigate, Baobh ran from her cottage and left Ghroc as fast as she could. Leaving her life as one of the Forest Folk of Ghroc she fled back into the world of the unblessed where she had been born and spent her youngest years-back to where her ambition and rage drove her. Once again standing in the meadow that led to the hidden Goyor village, Baobh fell to her knees and began to tremble uncontrollably. A cold gale started to blow from the north, and the moon was soon covered by hostile clouds. She had killed an Emissary! Sudden realization of what she had just done descended upon her like the slice of a guillotine. Huge, hysterical tears of fear and remorse carved a path through the blood smeared upon her cheeks. She looked up to the moon to ask for forgiveness but was answered with a bitter wind that set her cheeks ablaze and squeezed her heart so tight she thought she might die. Then the wind was gone, the skies fury just a whisper that echoed in the night. Slowly Baobh lowered her searching eyes and took a deep breath. She slipped her hand into the pouch and brought out the necklace. Her eyes quickly went to the empty socket at the center of the necklace. She gasped at the sight of the missing stone. "The largest stone is missing!" she cried. "Why did I not see that before?" For a long time, she looked upon the vacant setting contemplating where the missing stone might be. "It is just one stone," she finally whispered. "The remaining six stones will be enough to guarantee me Sona Tuath and the throne!" Her sensitive Goyor ears heard the dull thud of quick footfall and recalled her to her senses. She swung around in a panic just as a soft drizzle began to fall, sprinkling the meadow with tiny sparkling drops of starlight. A tall man approached Baobh at a dead run, his face as bright as the moon. It was Eagle Pridecaller, the youngest and newest elder of Ghroc!