Shion struggled to sit, then leaned against Phae as he trembled with fever and chills. He was as weak as a kitten, spent and broken.
“Help me . . .” he begged.
Phae pulled him up gently, helping him face the pool. He planted his hands on the liquid’s edge, his arm muscles quivering as if the effort were more than he could bear. His whole body bucked and heaved, and Phae watched in shocked silence as tiny beads of silver began to gather from the pores of his skin. Little specks trickled down his arms and began filling the pool. He shuddered violently and groaned, experiencing wave after wave of nausea and anguish, and she watched the pool begin to fill with quicksilver. His skin bubbled and popped, thick pustules of silver emerging. It looked agonizing as she watched, her stomach churning with disgust. The stream came faster, and with it, the distant sound of rushing waters began to echo inside the chamber. It was a sound she recognized, the rushing of the waters coming from the tree in the garden in Mirrowen.
A halo of light filled the gruesome chamber, driving away all the shadows. The smell of salt and the sea filled the air, and a breeze tousled Phae’s hair. With the light came a feeling of immense peace and relief. Joy exploded inside her heart.
“Isic, I think it is over!” she said, beaming through her tears. “It is finished!”
A window to another world opened up from inside the pool. It was so bright that Phae shielded her eyes for a moment. Shirikant shrank from it, fleeing to one of the edges of the chamber, staring at the light with shock and dread. He cowered in fear.
The Seneschal, Melchisedeq, stepped through the portal and entered her world.
“Well done,” he said with a broad smile. “Well done!”
He set his hand on Shion’s head and said, Calvariae!
The word seemed to gush out from him in a whisper that could be heard anywhere throughout the world. Strength filled Shion’s arms and legs and the boils and rashes on his skin were healed. As she stared at him, she saw that the scars from the Fear Liath were still there . . . small and hardly noticeable unless she really looked hard to see them.
“It is time to set things in order,” the Seneschal said. “To usher in a new season. Isic Moussion, I bestow upon you one of the Voided Keys.”
Isic knelt before the Seneschal, shaking his head. “I am unworthy of such a gift,” he said softly.
“With much suffering comes much wisdom, Isic. This is the day I saw when you pledged to serve me. This is the hour I knew would come. You will earn more Voided Keys as you assume more responsibility for governing this world. The keys are mine to bestow upon whom I will. I give this one to you.”
He produced one of the ancient, gnarled iron keys with a leather strap running through the empty part. He gestured for Shion to rise and fashioned it around his waist, so that the key dangled there. Phae stared at him with pride, smiling with pleasure at seeing him finally fulfilling his destiny.
“What shall we do with your brother?” the Seneschal asked. “You must name his punishment.”
Shion looked at the Seneschal in surprise. He stared at the cowering form, shrinking from the gaze of the Unwearying Ones. Phae looked at him as well, seeing no trace of power left in him, no threat to anyone.
“He will be imprisoned,” Shion said firmly, coldly, but not vengefully. “He has a book of the Paracelsus order. A book where he has written all of his means to bind spirits and the will of men and women. All of his cunning. All of his sources of power are contained in this book. Evil cannot be destroyed. But it can be bound.” He turned to face the Seneschal again. “I do not want his memories tainting Phae’s tree. Can you bind his memories to the book, bind his spirit to the book? He is too dangerous to be allowed to walk the earth. He is unwilling to obey any power other than himself. Let him be caged like the spirits he caged. The Druidecht order will forbid anyone from reading that book and we will protect it as our sworn duty.”
The Seneschal paused, staring at Shion. Phae could tell that he was looking into the future, into a decision made and its impacts down to the ends of time. A slow smile crept over the Seneschal’s mouth.
“Phae, you still have the stone your father gave you. The stone that traps a mortal’s spirit. Give it to me and I will use it to bind him to the book you spoke of. It is time to heal the Scourgelands, to restore them to their proper use. To fulfill the oath to build Canton Vaud, the Druidecht stronghold. By the Voided Keys, I revoke the curse tainting the fireblood.”
He raised his right hand, holding his palm toward the cleft of rock overhead. An earthquake rocked the cavern, splitting the dome of the ceiling, shattering the rocks and bringing in the natural light of day at last.