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Authors: William King

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BOOK: 3 Weaver of Shadow
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The elf held up her hand and he was forced to stop, holding on to a tree trunk to maintain his balance. Below them he could hear the hunting horns and see movement. It looked like their pursuers were not quite so deceived as she had thought. They stayed frozen in place for long moments and then the elves below them vanished along the trail back in the direction from which Kormak and the elf woman had come.

“They were part of the warband running ahead of you,” she said. “You must have done something to upset them. I have not ever seen so many sent to pursue a single man. Come to think of it, I have never seen a man escape from the shadow of the dead tree before.” She tilted her head to one side and looked at him. Her fingers flickered through a complex Elder Sign and before he could do anything about it she reached out and touched him. He fought to keep from flinching. This far up, perched on the branches of this high tree a single push could send him tumbling to his doom, and she was far more at home up here than he was.

“There is no taint of the Shadow in you,” she said. “You are not one of their spies at least.”

“There have been spies?” Kormak said.

She nodded. “They twist people in their groves, turn them to the Shadow, make them other than what they once were and then send them out into the world again.”

“I would know more of this,” Kormak said.

“This is not the time and place. I have many questions for you. It seems we have information to trade, you and I.”

“What is your name, at least? I am Kormak.”

“I am Gilean of the Speardancer Lodge of the Nation of Kayoga.” She added something in the liquid tongue of the elves.

“Why are you here?”

“Later Champion of the Sun. Now we must move on and find a place of greater safety, if any place can be called such in this foul land.”

She started to move once more, effortlessly walking out along the narrow branch even as it swayed beneath her. Kormak followed, some of his earlier confidence and certainty having evaporated as the initial effects of the elfdraft wore off. They raced along the narrow ways until they reached another tall tree. In a fork in its bole was the entrance to a small hollowed out niche. Gilean led him inside and he followed.

The place smelled of corrupted sap but it still seemed healthier than the rest of the trees around it. The air smelled better somehow. When Kormak looked down, he saw that small petals had been scattered around the inside of hollow.

“Amelialia, Shadowsbane, in the human tongue,” she said. “It keeps most things of the Shadow out. Apply some of it to that bite on your cheek. There is a danger of it becoming corrupted.”

Kormak did as he was told, smearing the swollen part of his face with the cool leaves. The stinging lessened and he felt a little better. Weariness finally caught up with him and he tumbled headlong into unconsciousness.

 

He woke to find the elf woman lying alongside of him. She was warm and soft. He rose up and checked his amulet and his blade and found that she was eying him.

“It seemed best to let you sleep,” she said. “You looked at the end of your strength.”

“How long?” he asked. He was hungry again and his head felt fuzzy.

“A day and a night.”

“I have been lying in this Shadow-tainted place for so long.”

“You have your amulets and have been protected by such wards as I have woven into this place.” Without being asked, she proffered him a package of food and a different flask. “Spring water,” she said, “from outside this land. It is best for your kind not to use elfdraft save in times of need. You can swiftly grow dependent on it.”

Kormak nodded, looked at her closely. She had the ageless quality that all elves shared. Her skin was smooth as a child’s. She looked in the prime of health, beautiful and exotic. She might have been old enough to be his great-grandmother but she gave no sign of it.

“You have come unscathed from under the shadow of Mayasha,” she said. “I would not have believed that was possible for a mortal man. Or an elf for that matter.”

“I was lucky and I believe I had help.”

“How so?”

Kormak considered her for a moment. He was not sure how much to tell her but she was here in a land tainted by Shadow and must have her own agenda. “Why are you here?” he asked.

She tilted her head to one side and looked at him with eyes larger than human, with much deeper and darker pupils. “I am looking for my spear-sisters.”

“Elves of your lodge?”

“Yes. They came here when news of the spread of the Blight reached us. They were shocked by what they found and then all contact was lost.”

“They sent no more messages.”

“The Green is corrupt here. It is difficult to send.” He was not sure he understood her and his confusion must have shown on his face.

“Your people cannot use the Green to communicate.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“No matter. You do not need to know any more than we lost touch with them. The last messages they sent showed they were frightened.”

“If they have seen the things I have seen I am not surprised.”

“The Shadow is very strong here.”

“So why are you still here. Are you not afraid of being tainted yourself.”

“I have mostly only been entering the Blight for short spells, I have eaten nothing and drank nothing from this place. I am warded to the limits of my power. I cleanse myself when I leave and there are still untainted places even here if you seek them out.”

“In the long run that means nothing.”

“In the long run you are right but I was not planning on being here for the long run.”

“What were you planning on doing?”

“When Ghostwing told me of your party entering the woods I came to warn you. Then I followed in case there was any help I could give.”

“That is very altruistic of you.”

“And you do not believe in altruism?”

“Sad, isn’t it?”

“I thought that by helping you I might help myself?”

“How?”

“You at least can summon others of your kind to make war on the Blight.”

“I hope so.”

“The Kayoga don’t have the strength to cleanse this place on their own. The Weaver’s force is far stronger than ever I suspected. She is recruiting not just among the Lost but among your people. Soon she will have an army the like of which has not been seen in the Forest for ten thousand seasons.”

“You seek allies?”

“It would seem wise, would it not, in the face of what is coming? If Weaver recruits among humans and spiders we must find some way of matching her strength.”

Kormak could see the sense of that. He could even see the utility of being allied with the elves in this vast forest. He was not sure the human lords of Taurea would go along with this though. There was a great deal of old enmity between human and elf, and what Weaver was doing was only reinforcing that. Now did not seem to be the time to point that out though particularly since he was going to need Gilean’s help to get out of here.

“Who is Weaver?”

“A sorcerer who has found a new god. Or rather a new way to contact an old god. We had heard sing long ago that she was gaining power in the councils of Mayasha. No one could have foreseen that she would rise to where she is now, or that one of the Lost could wield such power.”

“The Lost?”

Her cheeks hollowed and her lips thinned in a faint grimace of disgust at his ignorance. It was clear that she was talking about things that would have been clear to any elvish child. “Those who no longer touch the Green.”

“What is that?”

“Think of it as the Spirit of the Forest. If an elf is away too long or too far from the Forest the connection is broken. You cannot feel the presence of the Green. You cannot talk to the other Children of the Green with your spirit. You lose the essential thing that makes you an elf. Being unable to touch the Green is like being deaf and mute and blind.” There was a note of despair in her voice as she spoke.

“Are you Lost?” he asked. She looked at him as if he had just insulted her gravely.

“I have not willingly turned my back on the Green,” she said eventually, as it sank in that he had not been trying to be insulting. “In this place the Shadow comes between my spirit and the Green. If I open myself to communicate, I become vulnerable but the longer I remain here out of contact with the Green the more vulnerable I become anyway. The loneliness becomes all but unbearable. I think it is through this that the Shadow tempts the Lost.”

She sounded as if she had direct experience of the temptation and perhaps she did. “Ghostwing is part of the Green as well.”

She nodded. “Even with him I dare not speak save when we are close; to reach out over any distance would be unwise.”

“You do not worry about him becoming corrupted?”

She laughed. “He spends less time here in the Shadows than I do. He has wings, he can come and go as he pleases in far less time than it takes me. He can rest in untainted lands and fly here.”

“What do we do now?”

“We leave. The Shadow Children still seek you but judging by their drum-calls, there has been a great in-gathering. Hunting parties have been sent to track you but I think Weaver has other plans that she must implement.”

“You think she plans to attack the Settlements?”

“If you mean the human lands between the Twin Rivers then yes.”

“They must be warned.”

“That takes us in the direction of maximum danger, where the forces of Shadow will be strongest.”

“Then they will least expect us to go that way.”

“That is the logic of madness, man.”

“I must warn my people, if that is possible.”

She considered him for a moment. Her watchful gaze reminded him of a cat. “Yes, I can see that you must.”

“I must reach the human lands anyway if I am to raise the war-banner and summon my Order to battle against the Blight. You said you needed allies. This is the way to get them.”

She sighed. “Very well then, let us try but I fear that path will prove closed to us.”

He felt a momentary suspicion. Why was she trying to discourage him? “We will never know if we never try.”

“Very well, when Ghostwing returns, we will try.” She did not sound very hopeful.

 

The great owl fluttered over them, eying them. It had returned an hour after sunset bearing news of the movements of the Lost and the Spiders. Gilean had immediately dispatched it south to find a route through. When it returned it seemed agitated, at least to Kormak’s untutored eye.

“Ghostwing says an army is on the march south of us, with scouts and spiders moving ahead of it. It looks like Weaver intends to cross the river and go into the lands you call the Settlements.”

“Can we get there first?”

“If we move swiftly, I believe so. We will need to be quick though. It would not do to be caught trying to cross the river by the Lost.”

“Then we had best be going.”

They descended from the tree and reached ground level. The forest was as dismal as Kormak remembered. Every bush seemed frosted with furry mould. Most of the trees seemed dying and rotten. There was an oily taste on his tongue and he constantly had to fight down the urge to look over his shoulder. There was a sense of being in a place hostile to his kind, to all normal life. It was very easy to believe that he was in the presence of the Shadow.

They set out along the benighted trail, the owl came and went, scouting ahead and bearing news of the paths they followed. It perched close to Gilean and though she and the bird never spoke, Kormak had an uneasy sense of the communication between them. After these short sessions were complete the owl would fly off again.

“It is very bad,” Gilean said, once Ghostwing had departed. “All of Weaver’s people seem to be on the move. She has, at long last, decided to strike against the lands of men. There are thousands of the Lost and hundreds of humans and who knows how many spiders. Some of those are Shadow-warped and monstrous.”

“Perhaps we can slip through their midst. They may mistake us for members of their army.”

“Perhaps we can, but I suspect the Lost can tell those unlike them in the same way as I can tell the Lost.”

“You can tell who is Lost just by looking at them?”

“I sense the absence of the Green or the presence of the foulness of Shadow.”

“You think they could tell this about humans.”

“I do not know. Your people are different from mine. You lack the senses we have. No elf would try to touch one of your people through the Green. You are blind and deaf to it.” There was just the faintest hint of contempt in her voice.

“My people say yours have no souls,” said Kormak, needled.

“What is a soul?”

“Our animating spirit, what makes us what we are, or immortal essence.”

“You refer to the spark of the Green. Your people do not have it.” Kormak found himself laughing softly. “It seems that elves consider men soulless too.”

And perhaps with more reason, Kormak thought. She shrugged. “Our lives come from the Green. When we die our sparks go back to join it. Perhaps yours go elsewhere.”

Drums sounded like thunder in the distance. Ahead of them, this time. “It looks as if Weaver does not care who knows she is coming.”

“She is confident.” Kormak thought of the small disunited villages, and the vast camp of armed elves he had seen around the great dead tree.

“Perhaps with good reason,” he said.

CHAPTER NINE

 

THEY MOVED CAUTIOUSLY, Gilean with her bow ready. Kormak’s hand never strayed far from the hilt of his sword. He could see the signs of the passage of an army all around him. The paths were churned by hundreds of feet, not all of those moving as lightly as elves or spiders. There were humans among the elves, which was not a reassuring thought. There were also signs that something much larger and heavier than humans had been moving through. Branches had been broken at higher than the head height of a man; brush had been swept back from the pathway.

Kormak thought of giants and then he thought of the Mother and her children.

“Spider Queen?” he asked Gilean, pointing to the damage on the trail.

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