Analindë (The Chronicles of Lóresse) (10 page)

Arandur was surprised to find no more bodies as he searched through the great house. For a fleeting moment he hoped that the message had been wrong, that somehow only two had perished. But the hopeful feeling sank quickly as he remembered that not only could some of the great energies kill you, but they could incinerate you.

Riian’s parents were great mages. Of course the spell used to defeat them would not just kill them but completely wipe their existence from off the face of the land.

He found the message cupboard that had been used to warn the Realm in the kitchen. He stretched his senses out, searching for a trace of who had activated the spell. He found the faint essence of one elve, but couldn’t tell if the elve was male or female, young or old. It did not matter; he would not have traded the survivor’s life for Riian’s no matter how much he had valued their friendship. He retracted the tendril of Energy that he’d sent to search the cupboard and stalked off to explore the rest of the home.

Arandur had finished his search and now circled the barren spot on the ground where the western part of the great house had lain for over five millennia. Cool autumn air whistled through nearby trees, making him think of the survivor out there alone in the mountains. He turned his thoughts back to his search and then scrambled over and around great granite boulders the size of carts, burnt timbers, and powdered marble. Charred earth and rubble was all that remained of the great wing. He sensed no remains, elven or otherwise.

With nothing else to be discovered from the village, he headed for a spot just outside the greatest wards where he would await news from the others. He found a pleasant place to sit, a small knoll overlooking the village. He kept his thoughts away from the depressingly morose, and so he sat with his back to the sight of so many boyhood memories, focusing instead on the tall grasses which had begun to brown, and the thick blanket of golden leaves covering the forest floor beyond. The aspens in this part of the mountains were beautiful. Tall and stately, they grew much larger here than elsewhere. Much time passed before his companions joined him; friend faced friend as they sat, listening to the sounds of the forest. None spoke until they had all gathered.

The five of them sat in a loosely formed ring; Arandur broke the pervasive stillness amongst the group. “I found a destroyed ward just outside the village. Human tracks near it indicate a portal was used. Two elves lay dead in the village, but I found no sign of other dead. I did find Energy traces from when the survivor used the message cupboard, but they were faint to read. I sensed the residuals of spells the humans cast. They were quite thorough in destroying much of what they found, resulting in significant property damage. Indistinct tracks led through the gardens into the woods, indicating the escape route the elve used.” Arandur shifted his weight. It was difficult to remain objective. “What news Sintriel?”

“We found no traces of recent passage by the humans and no sign of the survivor. None of the wards we passed were tripped,” she reported somberly. Mild curiosity swirled deep within her eyes, but she did not speak further.

“And you Thalion?”

“We found passage on a trail heading northeast from the village.” Arandur remembered this trail; if memory served him correctly it would eventually curve and head northwest toward Mirëdell. Thalion continued, “We were not able to approach too closely to the village because of the wards. We wondered many times how the humans were able to exit through them.”

“The wards were meant to guard from unauthorized entry, not exit, and were probably quite happy when the thing they guarded against left.” Thalion’s face darkened at Arandur’s response.

“We followed the tracks for some time,” Thalion continued. “It appears that one flees from three. The one appears to be a young woman; the shoe prints indicate she’s elven.”

“Analindë,” Arandur’s heart sank as Riian’s death was confirmed.

“The three that follow–” Thalion paused a moment and sent an inquiring look at Arandur; a slight smile quirked his lips.

“Two men, one woman, with one of the men leading?”

“Yes, Arandur. You read the tracks correctly. They lost her trail about three hours journey up the mountain. It looks as if they traversed the same ground over and over until their steps blended together. It appears that she hid for awhile and successfully kept them at bay. We sensed great disturbances in the flow of power throughout that area, indicating death strikes.”

Rage, quick and hot, flashed through Arandur. He clamped it down, keeping a tight leash on the emotion. The humans were cowards and idiots. Why use a sledge hammer when a thin blade would work just as well? This unskilled use of power had caused damage which would take millennia to heal properly. He purposely did not think of poor Analindë cowering in her hiding place while the humans hunted her.

“We know she escaped because the human tracks indicate they hunted her again after the attack. Their trail continued up the mountain, but they lost her when they got to the rocks. We did find some small traces of her passage which indicate she continued on toward Mirëdell. With your permission, I’ll alert Daerwen so that scouts can be sent to meet her on the way.

“The humans themselves have left the valley, perhaps as late as yesterday.”

Startled, Arandur frowned. That couldn’t be right. “Yesterday?”

“Yes, the indicators of their passage were vivid and easy to read.”

“You are sure.”

“Yes.” Thalion now wore a frown just as dark as his friend’s. “You did not sense them?”

“No.”

“Humans can’t travel that quickly,” Sintriel added.

“I didn’t think so either,” Arandur responded.

“Perhaps they have developed a new type of shielding?” Urúvion asked.

“Let us hope not,” Thalion replied.

“You’re sure they left the valley?” Arandur asked. Thalion nodded. “And they did not circle back?”

“Definitely not.” The answer was succinct.

“Good.” Arandur’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “Perhaps I missed them before–”

“That’s doubtful.” Sintriel cut him off.

“Nonetheless, I’ll try to search them out again before nightfall. Perhaps I can extend my reach.” Arandur continued.

“It is good that she got away,” said Sintriel.

“Yes.”

“Should we search out her trail and follow?” Urúvion asked.

“No,” Arandur frowned, “Our orders are to secure the valley, then follow the humans. Besides, her lead on us is too great. The others will look for her when she’s reached the other side of the mountain range,” said Arandur.

“I did try to call out to her,” Thalion added hesitantly, glancing quickly to the two newish members of their team. “I targeted her specifically. But even though I had a general sense that she might yet live, I was unable to pinpoint where she was, nor do I think my message was successful in reaching her. Should you wish, I can continue to try calling to her,” Thalion asked.

Arandur nodded, “Yes, if it does not tax you too much. Please continue to reach out.”

“May the stars guide her journey to safety,” said Urúvion.

Arandur hoped it wouldn’t take much longer for the scouts to reach her. He made a mental note to ask Thalion to get status updates frequently so that if he wasn’t successful in reaching her through farspeaking that they could know when she’d safely reached the other scouts.

Silence hung about the group for awhile, yet Arandur did not get up. He’d seen a question swirling in the depths of Sintriel’s eyes earlier and was now curious himself to see if she’d ask her question. His patience was rewarded when she spoke.

“The cupboard.” She paused, “Did you find more than one?”

Ahhhh, of course. Sintriel would wonder about the defensive mechanisms here. “No, I only saw the one. It was in the kitchen.”

“And it was unharmed?”

“I believe it was hiding. It successfully hid from me when I first stepped near it.”

“Was the message still engraved upon the board?”

“No, the message had been wiped clear.”

Sintriel looked interested more than anything.

She spoke again, “You know, it’s been millennia since the boards were last used.”

“I hadn’t realized it had been quite so long.”

“There’s been a lot of speculation as to how the mechanics of the messaging cupboards actually work. For instance, it is said that the strength of the alarm is directly correlated to the intent of the message that is sent. The more dire or urgent the intent is behind the message, the stronger the bell will sound.”

Sintriel sat back suddenly, surprised that she’d spoken so much. Arandur recognized the signs. Sintriel’s internal censor had kicked in. They wouldn’t learn anything else about cupboards this evening. He spoke up, smoothing the change in topic. “Have you visited before?”

“No, my family has never had that honor.”

Arandur paused, then spoke thoughtfully. “I’ll show you the cupboard as soon as we arrive and will point out certain wards that you should appease before you start working separately from the group.”

She nodded, eyes thankful and face blank.

Urúvion spoke up, “Arandur, what of the others? You only mentioned finding two bodies. What of the other three?”

“The Mages of Lindënolwë were very powerful; it would have taken a great spell to overcome them.”

Dismay and horror flashed briefly across Urúvion’s face before a calm mask descended. If indeed the other three had died, there would be no bodies to find.

“Thalion, please, would you report to Daerwen? Tell her what was discovered, that we will take time to burn the dead, that Analindë has travelled beyond my ability to sense, and lastly, that we will track these humans unless otherwise directed.” Arandur paused a brief moment before adding. “Also, tell her the humans might not have found what they were looking for.”

“Arandur?” asked Sintriel.

“There was much destruction within the village, as if a great search was conducted. I felt . . . much rage.” His companions eyed him and shifted in unease. It was uncommon for him to sense residual feelings this long after an event and it made his quintet wary.

After Thalion relayed their news, the scouts approached the wards of the village together. Now that the valley had recognized Arandur and re-granted temporary access, he firmly pressed against the invisible barriers before them and said, “Friends pass here.” And so they crossed over and into the village to burn their dead.

The Seventh Chapter

In the High Mountains of Lóresse

A
nalindë woke to the sound
of birds overhead. The flap of wings, feathers rustling, and the songs they sang to each other drifted down to where she lay. She crawled out of the nest she had slept in and looked up at the mid-morning sun filtering down through the trees. “I slept too late,” she said groggily as she rubbed her eyes with the backs of her hands. She dragged herself over to a nearby sunny spot and rooted through her pack to find breakfast. She decided to eat the last of her fresh fruit and some cheese, then scavenge for edible greens nearby.

She refilled her water sack from a stream, then moved back to the sunny clearing in the forest to eat. Autumn flowers bobbed beneath the light breeze curling through the glade. She sat in golden warmth, a puff of air at her cheek, and savored the play of tart against sweet as she ate her berries one by one. Every now and then she’d take a bite of cheese, letting the salty richness act as the perfect foil for the berries. When she’d finished eating, she closed her eyes on the idyllic scene, then attempted to find her center. The gentle rays of the autumn sun felt heavenly against her skin; she imagined pulling the warm caress to her core as if it could somehow heal her ravaged body and dispel the chill that had taken up residence inside her. As she settled into position and focused on her breathing, her cares fled away and a deep calm filled her.

Connected to the peaceful glade around her, she became one with the ripple of purple autumn flowers and grasses, the sway of tall trees surrounding her, and of geese as they flew overhead. As her breath moved deeply in and out, contentment filled every nook and cranny it could find. She let that contentment ooze through her until she hummed with a feeling of rightness and peace. She gathered her senses in, exhaled one last time, then stood up and grabbed her pack. She was ready.

She felt better than she had in a long while. Even through the numbness of the flat shield her muscles didn’t ache quite as badly, her heart felt lighter, and her mind clearer. She found her way back to the path with ease, then started down its length once again. It was a skinny path, just wide enough for a horse drawn cart, not that carts were used anymore these days. Smooth and slightly rounded, the packed dirt had weathered well. Too well. She supposed that one of her ancestors truly had blazed this trail, weaving an everlast spell into it as they had worked. She wondered to herself if the trail reformed each time someone keyed to it traversed its length, or if it existed all the time and was simply kept hidden from strangers. Her mother had told her of its existence in hushed words once when she was little, but it was definitely not on any map she’d ever seen.

She checked her two shields as she walked; all was in order and intact. She looked into the black void seeking the Humans. They had drifted further east toward the Mountain City. She grinned at her fortune at being able to escape them, then continued to take stock.

She looked to her reservoir to see how much Energy she had left and squealed in surprise. Her reservoir was full! Footsteps slowing, she studied it in amazement. “Where did it come from?” She sent a tendril of thought into the pale rose energies filling her reservoir and slid easily through them. They reminded her of the rustle of leaves and the play of grasses in the wind, with a bitter overtone of bark.

The forest glade! Now that she knew what to look for, she saw the pale rose energies of the glade slowly transmuting into her usual sunny yellow. She wondered if it was just the glade that was special or if centering gathered in Energy?

Realizing that she’d found a possible way to replenish her stores, she retracted the tendril of thought from within herself and ambled down the path. A tiny spark of hope flared bright within her, gleaming against the overwhelming darkness and despair.

The awareness came twice that day. She sensed it sweep down the trail toward her, but each time, it passed through her as if she didn’t exist.

The next day it only came once. The day after that it didn’t come at all. Life became a blur as one day bled into the next. She had to stop twice each day to refill her energies, but never felt quite as content as she had that day in that sunny forest glade.

Isolation and the flat shield became oppressive. Numbness permeated her entire mind and body. Exhaustion overwhelmed her. The flat shield kept her emotions at bay, but what little remained with her was grief. She retreated into the numbness to avoid it.

Only one thing drove her on . . . the compulsion she felt to warn the other elves about Gildhorn. Otherwise, it would have been far too easy to sit down and never get back up again.

On the seventh day, Analindë stopped near a glacier lake in the high mountains to rest, eat, and refill her Energy reserves. She opened her pack and sighed; she needed to start rationing. She broke off a piece of journey bar and gnawed on it as she stared blankly at the crystal blue waters of the lake. A biting wind swept from the east tousling her hair. Two mountain passes framed the valley; one she had just crossed, the other she would hike over after she’d rested. The nice smooth path she’d been following had abruptly changed after a particularly nice mountain valley she’d passed through two days ago. It was almost as if that valley had been a destination of sorts at some point or other, or perhaps the ancestor who’d made that nice smooth road had simply given up. Either way, what remained now was a path. A simple path. Free of vegetation, but with rocks and protruding roots to trip her. She sighed in disgust at herself for at least there was a path to follow. She didn’t think that at present she had enough mental acuity to navigate a course.

“I’m so tired!” The sound of her voice surprised her; she’d become used to the silence. But her surprise didn’t last. She was numb. Rubbing her right hand along the ground, she reveled in the sensation of clumps of dirt, small rocks, and hardy grasses as they scraped her fingers and ground into her palm. She barely felt it. “I don’t know if I can make it,” she mumbled to herself. The doubting words had been circling around in her mind all afternoon; she’d only just voiced them aloud. The flat shield had become a larger drain each day. Energy bled out of her quicker than she could gather it in. Speaking of filling her reservoir, she put off the inevitable and folded her legs in front of her, extended her arms, placed her hands palm up on her knees, straightened her back as straight as her aching muscles could make it. Then she let her eyes drift shut, starting a process that had become vital at every stop. Find more Energy.

She sat, focused on the weak sun, and tried to absorb every scrap of warmth she could. The surface of her exposed skin tingled; whether from the warmth of the sun or the cold of the wind Analindë didn’t know or care.

With her mind left to wander as she breathed, she turned her attention toward the earth beneath her. Switching to magesight, she extended a tendril of thought into the ground below her, then studied the energies embedded within each layer of rock she sat upon. She scrutinized the glacial deposits, rocks, gravel, silt and clay, and the way everything connected together. Learning about things this way was something new she’d learned to do in the past few days. Something she wouldn’t have dreamt of being able to do when she was back home.

Home.

She batted the thought aside before despair swallowed her whole, then sent her attention back to the layers of sediment beneath her.

She’d started this little game a few days ago to give her something quiescent to concentrate on as the energies she collected slowly replenished her reservoir. Inspired by the time she’d spent in the forest glade with all those pleasant and delicate pale rose energies, she made the most of each stop by thoroughly investigating her surroundings.

Actually, that wasn’t very true. When she was gathering in energies, her mind and thoughts became clearer. Her existence was so bleak and she was so fatigued that Analindë found that if she didn’t focus very pointedly on something else, then she became depressed. Very depressed. Hence the present game she played.

Having finished exploring the layers of earth beneath her, she mentally followed miniscule rivulets of water as they trickled down through layers of rock toward the glacier lake. Too focused on the minutia around her, it took Analindë quite awhile to realize that the lake itself was a still pool of quiet Energy. It simply sat there, its surface smooth and glossy, just as the water was in the physical world. Yearning filled her as she gawked at that massive pool of power not a few dozen steps away. Shivering, she wondered if it would be okay to lie next to the lake. Perhaps if she was in close proximity she could absorb some of that power through osmosis.

Completely transfixed, she wondered what it would be like to lightly skim a tendril of thought against the surface. If she was lucky, perhaps a tiny bit of that cool bliss would soak into her. Shaky and with a bit of giddiness fluttering in her heart, she stretched out a tendril of thought, then tentatively touched the lake ever so gently. Immediately, a rush of Energy zipped up the tendril toward her. Plucking helplessly at the connection, she could not loosen it and began to panic.
What had she done! What was going to happen when that bolt of Energy reached her?
In fear she cringed back and tried to disconnect the tendril, but before she could draw another breath, a deluge of power washed over her.

Cool refreshing crispness exploded across her senses, renewing her, and her fear quickly shifted into a blissful hiss of relief. The frigid blue Energy filled her reservoir more quickly than she’d ever experienced, then withdrew down her tendril of thought with a caress.

Lighthearted, she laughed, then sent her thanks back down to the lake and looked about the small valley, seeing it clearly for the first time.

The area had been scraped clean by a glacier long ago. Its remnant stubbornly clung to the peak, feeding the lake. The barren valley contained nothing but smooth mid-size rocks in piles, and short hardy grasses with an occasional scrubby looking bush. Swathes of brownish green grasses moved as a gentle wind swept by. Curious, she turned her attention to the wind by slipping into magesight.

Currents of Energy echoed the eddies of wind that blew around and past her. They glowed brighter and warmer than the tranquil lake in front of her.
Did she dare touch any of those?
She wondered to herself. How does one touch the wind? Should she let it move past her like a windmill, or should she race along with it like a bird?

Definitely, like a bird.

Analindë spun a tendril of thought out into the sky, releasing it as a falcon. It flew up to the stronger currents above. “Please,” she asked. Linking the tendril of Energy with the currents of the wind, she followed it around. Circling the valley, bouncing off the peaks, then racing down the glacier toward the lake, she laughed out with exhilaration. She opened her eyes, slipping back out of magesight to watch the wind skim along the lake, barely rippling its surface. Caught up in the thrill of the moment, Analindë cried out, “Let’s do it again!”