Read A Darkness Forged in Fire Online
Authors: Chris (chris R.) Evans
A Darkness Forged in Fire (39 page)
W
hen Hizu finally collapsed beneath the Viceroy, he was still a day's ride from Luuguth Jor. Disgusted, he jerked his boots from the stirrups and awkwardly stood to his feet, pulling the long green cloak he had chosen to wear tighter around him. It crinkled with the sound of the hoar frost that lined its interior, a glorious sensation against his new flesh.
He stood over the horse's head and nudged it with his boot. Pink, frothy bubbles blew from its nose and the one eye he could see was rolled back, the cornea shot through with blood. Forcing his knees to bend, a motion he was still relearning as he sought to work the joints where his flesh had been reborn through Her beneficence, he crouched over the dying animal and laid both hands on it, commanding it to rise as he had commanded Her forces to kill.
Black frost spread across its body like ink spilled from a jar. The horse neighed once, twice, and blew dark streams of blood from its nose and mouth. He stood up and waited, watching the eye turn cloudy as the fluid from the animal's mouth changed from red to gray to black. Much faster than even he had recovered, the horse lurched to its hooves, leaving strips of flesh frozen to the ground where it had lain just a moment ago. It turned to him and opened its mouth wide, its sound now rumbling from deep within frost-burnt lungs.
Now this,
the Viceroy thought,
was a horse
.
Warm water trickled down her throat. Inja remembered and opened her mouth to scream. A harsh, rasping sound echoed in her ears.
"Easy now, girl, I don't look that bad."
Inja closed her mouth and opened her eyes. At first, all she could make out was polished metal and locks of red hair in the lamplight. She was still in the stable, but now lay on one of the straw-filled mattresses for the help, a blanket over her body. She shivered and clutched it tight around her. Her vision cleared, and she made out a man wearing a shiny metal helm and cuirassa cavalry officer. Several others stood around her bed, their expressions a mix of sorrow and revulsion. Most curiously, a white bird sat on the foot of her bed, its bill tucked under one wing. It appeared to be snoring.
"Who…are…you?" she asked, each word a challenge.
"Ah, of course, we haven't been properly introduced." He stood up from beside her bed and doffed his helmet, the long horsehair plume brushing her exposed arm resting on top of the blanket.
"I am the Duke of Rakestraw, Colonel Jaal Endrehar, knight commander of Her Majesty's cavalry in Elfkyna. And these gentlemen are my staff," he said, motioning with a gauntleted hand at the group, who bowed and nodded toward her.
"We received a message that we should pay a visit to the Viceroy at our earliest
convenience, and found you lying on the floor…injured."
His voice was deep and rough, but kindness gave it a gentle, soothing quality, and his smile, despite the many scars on his face, outshone the lanterns. Inja brought her hand up to her throat and felt the skin there. It was scarred, and freezing to the touch.
"I am Inja, my lord. I work in the stables. I was here when the Viceroy came," she said, understanding now why some of the officers turned away.
"He took Hizu and left. I knew what would happen, but I couldn't stop him." At the thought of Hizu, Inja began to sob.
"Oh, now, don't do that, darling. I'm sure they can't have got far. We'll track the bastard down and get Hizu back," the Duke said, looking at his officers.
"Hizu is dead; worse than dead. The Viceroy has
changed him, as he has been changed."
And as I have been changed,
she didn't add, bringing her hand up to her throat again. She couldn't stop shivering. The Duke gently took her hand in his and brought it back down to the bed. One of his officers threw a shabraque over her, the lamb's wool thick and heavy.
"I don't understand," he said, still smiling at her.
"Then I will show you," she said, pulling herself up using the Duke's hand. She pulled the shabraque around her like a shawl. The movement woke the birda pelican, she saw, which flapped its wings a couple of times then hiccuped and tucked its bill back under a wing.
Inja took a couple of steps and would have fallen if the Duke hadn't put a hand around her waist.
"Easy now, Inja, I think you should rest," he said, trying to place her back on the bed.
"We need to get a fire going to warm you up."
Inja shook her head. "No, you must see. He will kill many more. It is the table," she said, pointing up toward the palace.
The Duke stopped trying to sit her back down. "Maybe you'd better lie down. Tables can't hurt youwell, not unless they're being thrown at you," he said, trying to make her laugh.
She shook her head. "No, you are wrong. It is not
merely a table. The soul of something dark lies within it. It remembersit
remembers when it was a tree, and it is angry."
"Oh, now, I know a thing or two about the Wolf Oaks
and the Long Watch and that, ahem, bonding they do, but I never heard of an oath
bond with a piece of furniture."
"You mock me!"
The Duke smiled and ducked his head. "I apologize, but are you sure you don't mean a crystal ball, or maybe a book of spells sitting on the table? I think I know the table you're
talking about, carved to look like a dragon? Bit garish, but hardly evil."
"I know of what I speak! It
is
evil. He uses it up in his room. Can you not feel it?"
At this the pelican looked up, suddenly interested in its surroundings. The Duke looked at his officers, who shrugged, clearly unable to sense the forces at work around them.
"We've been riding for the better part of three weeks; I can't feel much of
anything at the moment."
"Then I must show you, now." Without waiting for his reply she broke free from his arm and stumbled out of the stable. The Duke quickly caught up with her, holding out his arm for her to use for support. She heard the clatter of spurs on the cobblestones as his men followed.
Inja led them into the palace and up the many stairs toward the Viceroy's bedchamber. The Duke all but carried her the last few flights, her strength ebbing as she got closer to the room. Cold seeped into her bones, a deep, insatiable probing that began to tunnel her vision, even as the Duke kicked open the outer door to the room.
"It's freezing in here!"
Sabers scraped free of their scabbards as the Duke's men went to the inner door, the wood patinaed with black frost. Shoulders and boots hammered the door, which groaned and then tore from its hinges. A rush of bitterly cold air flooded the room.
The Duke gently handed her to another officer while he stepped into the inner chamber. He carefully crossed to the barred window, taking a wide path around the table in the center of the room. He flung open the bars, letting the warm outside air in. The pelican landed on the sill, staring in at the table with great curiosity. A glint of silver and the shadow of something much larger flew past the window, but the pelican seemed undisturbed by it.
The Duke turned back to the table, which seemed to shimmer as the air got colder. He stepped closer, leaning over to look at its surface. He suddenly stood up, his saber whistling from its scabbard.
"That sneaky bastard. This thing is like some huge crystal ball." He motioned for his men to stay back.
"She's right, it is magic. If I'd known that I would have dug my spurs into it
good."
He looked again. "What the devil?" the Duke shouted, his face going white with rage as he gazed at the surface.
"What is it?" an officer asked, his saber poised.
The Duke pointed to the surface of the table. "That's the Viceroy, and he's heading to Luuguth Jor. Damnation! We'll never get there in time." He looked back at the surface and his face grew grim.
"Konowa and his boys are up against it, and there isn't a thing I can do about
it."
Inja walked unsteadily into the room and stood opposite the Duke, the table between them. The pelican followed her steps intently.
"It's very cold in here, my lord. If there were any fuel to burn, we could have
some heat."
The Duke of Rakestraw lifted his head and looked at her from across the table. He had the most wonderfully dangerous smile she had ever seen.
I
t was only a tree, Konowa told himself, a living piece of wood. It was nothing. How could it possibly be one of the Stars? Thousands of elfkynan had given their lives believing its lie. Tens of thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands, were flocking to its legend, fomenting rebellion in the hope they could win their freedom, deceived by a simple tree.
And Iron Elves had died, his men, his soldiers, and for what?
It was only a tree. It should have burned when he grabbed it. Konowa felt his hand close around its slender trunk, and then he was flying backward, a bolt of lightning leaping into the sky, turning night into day. A new, brilliant Star shone down from the heavens, bathing the battlefield in clear, red light.
Konowa landed on his left shoulder and rolled to a standing position. His left shoulder throbbed and he brought his right hand up to rub it and stopped as he saw that his saber was broken in two. All he held now in his hand was the hilt and a foot of jagged steel. He looked up. A single, spiraling beam of light now blazed between the Star above and the tree below. Heat spread from it in ever-expanding waves.
Steam rose from the ground, and the air grew heavier, wetter. Konowa squinted, shaking his head. A figure stood in the light, its robes flowing in the rushing energy being released. It reached and patted the sapling, then moved past it, though the light from the Star followed it. He sensed a new power unlike anything he had felt before.
"Welcome back, little one," Rallie said, looking up to the sky and smiling.
A blast of cold air cut through the heat, and Her Emissary rose from the earth, its form muted.
"Give me the Star and save yourself."
Rallie looked amused. She pulled a new cigar out from beneath her robes and held it to the light, her eyes twinkling as the cigar end glowed to life.
"Give it to you? It's not mine to give," she said.
Konowa looked around in amazement. All eyes were focused on Rallie and Her Emissary and the blazing Star above them.
Her Emissary took a step forward. A bowstring released and a musket fired at the same time, but each shot passed right through its chest. Its laughter sounded like brittle rocks falling down a mountain. It drew forth its dagger, black flame curling around it like a living thing.
"Impressive," Rallie said, a white feather quill suddenly appearing in her free hand.
"Not even your weapons can harm
me now. The sarka har delve deep. Her power will be absolute here, and the Star
will fall to Her domain."
"You truly don't understand the power of the quill, do you? This one isn't for throwing," she said as she pulled a sheaf of paper from another fold in her robe. She held the quill over the paper, poised to begin sketching.
Konowa couldn't understand Rallie's game, but it didn't matter. He felt the truth in Her Emissary's words even as the warmth that had originally emanated from the light between the sapling and the Star began to wane. He shifted his grip on his saber and prepared to charge.
"There's no need, Major, Her Emissary will be leaving shortly. It should be quite an exit. I hope I can do it justice," she said, tentatively sketching in a few outlines.
"I will have the Star now!"
It took another step toward Rallie, the flames on its dagger leaping higher into the night.
The air sizzled and sparked between Her Emissary and Rallie. The acorn burned with cold anticipation against Konowa's chest, infusing his blood with shards of an ancient, dark power. This might be the Shadow Monarch's gift, but Konowa would use it to smite Her Emissary and damn the consequences. And this time, he wouldn't just kill the bastard, he'd annihilate it completely. He began to lift the broken saber, then found his arm unable to go any higher. He tried again to no avail.
"Major, if you please," Rallie said, her drawing becoming more vigorous.
"I really do need to concentrate."
Konowa looked up and for the first time saw the sketch on Rallie's paper. It showed the tableau before them, but it wasn't stillit was moving. Light and shadow raced across the paper in a furious ebb and flow as Her Emissary and Rallie fought on a plane normal vision could not comprehend.
"Your parlor tricks won't hold
me for long,"
Her Emissary said, taking another step forward. The very air appeared to bend around its body.
"They don't have to," Rallie said, suddenly turning the paper over with a flourish and beginning a new drawing.
Konowa caught a quick glimpse of the Duke of Rakestraw, a table, raised sabers, and a lit match.
Her Emissary stopped, its head cocked to the side as if listening to something. Then it shrieked.
"If at first you don't succeed…" Rallie said, drawing deeply on her cigar, the end glowing with red fire.
"My ryk faur!"
The form that was Her Emissary wavered and then shattered into nothing.
Rallie nodded with satisfaction as she finished her sketch.
"Not my best work, but I think my readers will get the general idea. Now," she said, putting her paper and quill away and looking lovingly at the young sapling,
"what are we going to do with you?"
"You're going to give it to me." The Prince spoke up, stepping forward and holding out his hand. He cast his gaze around the battlefield and raised his voice.
"I claim this prize in the name of Her Majesty the Queen, ruler of Calahr and
all the lands of Her Empire."
Visyna's eyes flared, and Konowa knew it was only a matter of time before the situation got out of control.
"Your father should not have given you Her power,
Konowa Swift Dragon."
The voice cut through the raised voices and for a moment everything was calm. It had been ten years since he heard that voice.
He turned to face Chayii Red Owl of the Long Watch. A squirrel perched nonchalantly on her shoulder, its fur smoking slightly.
"He was looking out for me, Mother," Konowa replied, his head swimming with emotion.
"Without it, we'd all be dead."
Chayii walked up to him, stopping just outside the ring of frost. She traded a look of recognition with Rallie and then turned to him.
"And with it, what are you then, my son? Long has it been since I saw you, and I would hold you to my chest as a mother would her child, yet you would burn me with Her poison." Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked upon him. She cocked her head to one side and then looked directly at Visyna.
"And
you
. You are a weaver of the stuff
of life. I feel it as I feel the land here cry out in its pain. Why did you
allow this to happen?"
Visyna's mouth opened and closed several times. Konowa felt a throbbing at his temples.
"The Star must remain with its people here in Elfkyna," Visyna said at last.
"It must be left here, where it was planted. This is where it is meant to be, to
cleanse this land and destroy Her foul craft."
Chayii nodded at Visyna. "The witch is right."
"No, she is not!" shouted Prince Tykkin, banging his fist against his scabbard.
"The Star will go to Calahr. I want that sapling dug up at once. Regiment! Ready
arms!"
Bayonets leveled, their points glittering with frost in the predawn light. Elven archers notched arrows. Cold surged through Konowa.
"M-major…"
Konowa turned. He was amazed to see the dwarf, Corporal Arkhorn, making his way over the battlefield with several members of his patrol, carrying a wounded soldier.
They had survived!
When they got closer Konowa saw that it was the young private who had flogged Kritton. Alwyn, that was his name, Alwyn Renwar. It mattered to Konowa that he remembered his name, especially when he saw that the young man was missing a leg, the stump wrapped in leaves and moss. Worse, however, was the shadow that cloaked him, marking him both human and shade.
"It's good to see you again," Konowa said. He paused before he went on.
"What happened to the others? Private Kritton?"
Corporal Arkhorn shook his head. "Dead, or some version of it. Except Kritton. He ran off and we haven't
seen him since."
Konowa wasn't sure what to think about that. Kritton was many things, but a coward?
"He'll be caught, punished, and shot," the Prince said, waving his hands in the air.
"All of you will do well to remember that."
For answer, the dwarf gently laid Alwyn on the ground with the help of his patrol, then stood up and looked past them to the edge of the trees. The shades of Iron Elves stood arrayed in a line, their two-handed swords held in front of them. Behind them sat a dark figure on a horse, the shade's halberd ablaze in black flame.
"Lorian," Konowa said. The pain was too much. He felt his head spinning.
"The Star can break the oath, Major," Alwyn said, grimacing with each word. Konowa took a deep breath and looked at him.
"It can break it for all of us."
"To use the power of the Star in that way now when it is still young would be too damaging to it. You know the danger in that. It would be like Her silver Wolf Oak only a thousandfold more terrible," Chayii said, pointing at the
sarka har
around them.
"It must remain here to fight this. We will need its power." She looked down at Alwyn, a sad smile on her face.
"I am sorry, Alwyn of the Empire, but the land's need is greater."
"This is preposterous!" Prince Tykkin said. "Major, I
remind you of your duty. The only need that matters here is that of the Queen,
who, may I add, would be most appreciative to have the Star. You would be a
wealthy elf."
Konowa tried to imagine piles of gold and silver. He shook his head.
The Prince drew his sword. The metal was dull and gray and no black flame or frost marred it.
"The Star is mine and I claim it now. Color Sergeant! Bring me that tree!"
Sergeant Aguom's eyes went wide, but he stepped forward anyway, slowly walking toward the sapling. Jir padded silently to stand beside the tree, his tail swishing menacingly. Konowa looked around him. He saw Private Vulhber, his towering frame easily recognizable among the soldiers. He wasn't looking at Konowa, or the Prince, but up into the night sky, as were all the Iron Elves.
Konowa felt a cold gaze on his neck and turned back to see Lorian and Zwindarra staring at him. He saw Meri, too, and elves he had known and thought lost forever. This was his chance to set them free, the dead and the living.
"Wait," Konowa said.
Sergeant Aguom let out a sigh and halted, still several feet away from the tree. The Prince looked as if he was about to step forward, but Konowa stopped him with a look.
It felt as if a mountain was pressing down on Konowa. He felt all of their stares, knew all of their desires, and knew that whatever he chose, many would hate him for it. He found himself drifting back to his banishment in the forest, before he'd found Jir.
In his entire life he had never felt so utterly alone.
He sensed the rising of the sun behind him and knew it was time. There was only one real choice.
Thoughts of his time in the birthing meadow came back to him. He saw the Shadow Monarch there, cradling the silver Wolf Oak, desperate to save it. He understood the desire and he understood why he could never give in to it.
"The Star must stay here where it belongs."
The first ray of sunlight stretched over the horizon and infused the sapling's leaves with a warm, pulsing light. The Star in the sky faded and disappeared even as the tree began to glow, its leaves flashing like a thousand shooting stars.
Then the tree burst into flame.
