Lightning lashed in the sky. The wind began to keen and howl like wolves. Lia’s hair was also whipped about her face. Her clothes thrashed with the fury of the gale. She took another step closer.
Pareigis’s raven hair spun wildly around her. She was hunched, as if under a huge weight. “This is my world. You are my daughter. I have destroyed all of the mastons and I will destroy you! Do you think you can defy an army led by the Dochte Mandar? I allowed this Abbey’s defenses to destroy my army. It was part of my plan to ruin you. This is my dominion!”
Lia took another step. The air felt like it would burn. “You have taken everything from me. My true family. My real home. The one I love. There is nothing else you can take from me. I surrender all that I am and all that I have to the Medium’s will. I speak your true name. You are Ereshkigal, the Unborn. You will depart.”
“No! You cannot command me! You are a child! Nothing but a child!”
The sky lit up with jagged shards of lightning. The trees swayed wildly. Plump drops of rain began to splatter against the walls and against Lia’s face.
“You are Ereshkigal, the Unborn. You will depart.”
The look in Pareigis’ eyes was wild with frustration and fury. She screamed then, a sound so loud and startling and unearthly that it made Lia shrink inside. The scream grew louder and louder, drowning out the booms of thunder. Pareigis’ fingers, hooked into claws, swept forward as she rushed to rake Lia with them.
Lia grabbed her wrists, holding her back with all her strength as the storm cracked open and torrents of rain began to dash from the skies. Lia clenched Pareigis’ wrists tightly, digging her heels into the ground to help her balance.
“You are Ereshkigal, the Unborn!” Lia shouted. “You will depart!”
It was as if all the strength gushed out of Pareigis’ body. Lia found herself holding the frail girl up by her wrists as she sagged and collapsed. Lightning seared the air, revealing onlooking Dahomeyjan knights who stared at Lia and the Queen Dowager with awe and terror.
On her knees in front of Lia, the Queen Dowager’s eyes fluttered open.
“Where am I?” she whispered, her voice a tiny frail wheeze. She spoke in Dahomeyjan. “What Abbey is this that burns?” she said, gazing at the fires raging within Muirwood. The rain began to quench the flames.
The Queen Dowager’s hair was soon drenched with rain and she stared up at Lia in confusion and terror. “What land is this?”
Lia helped her to stand. “This is a foreign land. You must return to your country. You are sick, my lady. You will make others sick if you kiss them.” She stared into her eyes. “Please, do not make others sick.”
Pareigis blinked with the rain, confused.
“Duerden,” Lia said, turning around. He was on the ground, huddled against the downpour. “Help her to get away. Take her far away. The storm will get worse until she is gone. Go or it will kill you both.”
He nodded mutely and came forward, helping Pareigis to stand. He supported her and guided her in the rain towards the broken outer gates.
Chunks of ice began to thud against the grass and trees. Lia knew the storm was still building its strength. It was far from spent. It would be the greatest storm that Muirwood had ever known. And somehow, in her heart, she knew that it would last for three days and three nights.
Hugging herself and her dripping clothes, Lia walked slowly to the Aldermaston’s kitchen seeking shelter.
CHAPTER THIRTY SIX:
The Battle of Forshee
The penultimate force of the storm did not strike Muirwood until just before dawn. The noise came as the sound of a rushing wind so mighty it was as if ten thousand wagons were hurtling by at the same moment. Lia watched from the windows of the loft, but could see nothing but raindrops and ice lashing against the panes. The wind was a ghostly sound, shrieking and roaring. Hunkering within the kitchen, Lia felt no fear. She knew the Medium would protect her. But even still, she clutched her childhood blanket and listened to the chaos and havoc whipping and whirling outside.
When dawn arrived, the storm had abated somewhat, but the light revealed the damage. Lia stared in shock.
All that remained of Muirwood Abbey were trusses and struts, tall lonely chunks of stone that had once formed the mighty walls.
“It is gone,” she said to herself, amazed at the devastation. What sort of wind had come which would hurl away stone?
After pulling on a cloak, Lia wandered out in the rain and stared in astonishment at the skeletal remains of the Abbey. A few segments of wall still stood, but they were like broken clay fragments giving only the shade of resemblance to the original.