Analindë (The Chronicles of Lóresse) (11 page)

The buzzing Energy she felt emanating from the wind currents shifted for a brief moment, as if listening. She watched in magesight as it snapped back to normal, veering off to the right in order to circle the valley a second time.

Abruptly, Analindë opened her eyes and craned her head around to scrutinize the mountain. Within moments, little scraggly bushes rattled as if caught by a sharp wind. Her gaze trailed down the glacier to the water below. Its surface began to ripple, then it calmed. She closed her eyes and looked to the sky, switching to magesight once more. The wind had risen again. Hovering, it made small lazy circles in the sky as if asking, “Now what?”

She could link to the wind! Pleased excitement fluttered within her briefly until she realized it wasn’t much use to her right now. If she had a ship to sail, yes. But now? She looked to her reservoir, and saw that her flat shield had already depleted part of her reserves. She reconnected with her tendril of thought circling in the sky, then turned her attention to the wind.
Please
, she asked, drawing the thought back into herself. A short burst of Energy streaked out of the sky following her line of thought, refilling the empty space within her reservoir. It tasted of freedom and flight and sent the excited flutter within her heart to new heights. As she reveled in the blissful sensation, a gentle breeze plucked at her clothes and played with the hair that had escaped her braid; her skin tingled.

“Thank you,” she said as she exhaled a long breath, releasing her connection to the wind. The breeze gave one more playful flip of her braid, then turned back toward the glacier, bouncing off scrubby bushes as it went.

Analindë arose, then ambled over to the lake. She knelt beside it and dipped her hands in the cool water to wash her face and arms. She thought of her filthy hair and clothes. She had never gone this long without bathing, and wondered if she dared risk using Energy to help get dry. Deciding that at least clean hair was worth the risk, she grabbed a sliver of soap from her scout pack, undid her long braid, and plunged her head into the icy water. Welcoming the sharpness and clarity the cold brought, she soaped and rinsed her hair, then rung it out.

Analindë stepped back from the lake edge, strolling over to her pack, where she sat down and combed her hair out with Energy filled fingers. She used a little heat, shielded of course, to speed the drying process.

She thought of the beautiful and intricate hair styles that most elves wore. She settled for a simple braid tied up, the only type she could manage on her own.

Her hair was black, as was her mother’s, and her mother’s mother before her. Elven hair only came in three colors: a dark rich red the color of autumn rust, raven black, or silvery blond. Analindë’s entire family had each had black hair as far back as anyone could remember. She was tall like most elves and slender like most mages. Hereditary traits like these were passed down within families and centered around both physical appearances as well as aptitudes toward a specific type of Energy study.

The brawniest elve she had ever seen was Hirion, a Stone Master. He had just begun his
tuvalië
and had passed through their valley earlier in the summer. He’d come from a long line of Stone Masters. She’d liked him. He was serious, studious, had allowed her to ask him all sorts of questions, and hadn’t teased her as Riian had. She quickly pushed thoughts of Riian away, focusing on braiding her hair instead.

Reaching the end of her braid, she tied it off with a grubby ribbon. Not yet ready to restart her trek, and while she had the clarity to do so, she settled back to think through her current dilemma: her quickly draining Energy reserves, the flat shield, and the remaining seven days of hard travel.

The flat shield made her numb to most things and kept all but the most pressing problems at bay. This in itself wasn’t such a terrible thing, but it was a significant drain on her power. She looked to her Energy reserves; a noticeable decrease had already appeared in the energies the wind had given her. The shield was too heavy of a drain. She wouldn’t last another seven days under the current circumstances.

The need to constantly stop and refill her reservoir had eaten up the lead she’d gained by taking the shortcut through the mountain. One more week to Mirëdell.
If
she made good time.

She quickly checked the void to where the faintest flicker of light still shone. The Humans had long since stopped following her trail and were headed east, most likely toward the Mountain City. She sighed. At least she didn’t have to worry that they’d catch up anymore. Despite this, she still worried, wondering if they’d somehow locate her and port to where she traveled. Shrugging, she turned back to her largest problem.

The flat shield.

Each day it seemed to draw more Energy. If the only reason why she had it up was to avoid the awareness, and it hadn’t come in two days . . . then why leave it up all the time, especially when she could sense the awareness when it came? She watched grasses dance in the distance, the wind tossing them around. Did she dare travel without her shields?

She dithered back and forth again—yes, then no—as she continued to observe the grasses waving in the wind. The awareness hadn’t come recently, and before it had stopped coming, she’d become adept at sensing it well before it passed near her. The risk of taking the shield down was low enough. She’d simply put it up again when it was needed.

Could she put it up again, she wondered? She didn’t think that she’d ever forget what it felt like to be inside the flat shield, but had weaving the shield been a onetime fluke? She decided that she might be able to make it again if needed. And then there was the added factor that if she wasn’t deploying the shield, then she wouldn’t have to stop as frequently to gather in energies. She’d make better travel time.

Decision made, she immediately slipped into magesight and turned her mind to study the flat shield. It really was flat. Invisible to the naked eye and oblong shaped, it was about a pace long and a quarter of a hand span thick. It shone like a faceted jewel and was just as tough. Despite this, physical objects seemed to pass through it without resistance. She widened the small link between herself and the shield, letting her power and senses slowly reconnect to her body in stages.

Little by little she felt energies begin to reconnect with the parts of her body to which they belonged. An unpleasant tingling sensation prickled all over her legs and arms, and she realized how very cold she was as her teeth began to chatter.

She sent more Energy toward the mild—and shielded—warming spell woven into her shoes, pants, and jacket, hoping that it would help her slowly warm back up. She opened the connection a little wider and immediately felt a clear-headedness that she hadn’t experienced in days. As coherent as her thoughts had been after she’d absorbed the energies in the glacier lake, her present condition was unequivocally better. The comparison was drastic, practically night and day. Thick numbing fog of the flat shield versus her current lucidity, she’d absolutely made the right decision.

The flat shield was useful, yes, but dangerous. Very dangerous indeed.

She thought of how close she’d come to losing herself and shuddered. How much longer would she have had before she’d completely withered away, she didn’t know. She was simply glad that she’d caught herself in time.

She opened the connection a little wider and the unpleasant tingling sensation in her arms and legs increased to where every nerve ending in her entire body burned as if on fire. It was all she could do to hold herself still and not heed the little voice inside that told her if she could just slough or scrape the skin off her arms and legs that the pain would go away. Analindë groaned and lay down on the grass curling up on her side, cradling her arms to her chest. She rocked gently while breathing in deeply, attempting to work through the pain. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

A deep hurt sluggishly welled up from within her, slowly alerting her to sensations of exquisite pain. It felt as if every little part of herself had been ripped away piece by piece, then put back in place. Attempting to ignore it, she rocked back and forth for a very long time. As her body adjusted and became reacquainted with itself and the damage and overuse that had been inflicted upon it over the past week, she wondered how much longer she could endure it.

The pain lessened gradually, and at last, Analindë was able to breathe normally. She continued to lay still, her face pressed against the dirt. Eventually, she rolled to her back and switched to magesight to re-examine her shield.

It still glittered and glistened, but was only a small fraction of the size it once was. She felt the wind clearly as its crispness brushed across her face, the rocks digging into her back as she lay across them, the rumble of her stomach as it complained of too few meals over too many days, and the acute cold of the mountain passes. Well, what did she expect? She was laying on rocks, she didn’t have enough food, and it was practically winter this high up in the mountains. She shrugged.

Hoping the only thing left in the shield was her Energy connections and reserves, she dissolved the shield with a thought and tucked the framework of it away for future use.

Not two seconds later she realized her mistake as pain swamped her so intensely that she curled up into a ball and dry heaved. Every mage synapse and connection she never knew she had was on fire. So hot and bright, it could have burnt the entire world to cinders twice over. Parts of her screamed from overuse, and others shouted in pain from the day when she had wrenched any and all Energy from her body to fight the awareness. The newly formed walls of her reservoir weren’t just glittery red, they were burnt and raw.

She flung a tendril from herself as an anchor to find safe haven as she sunk into blackness and swirling pain. Her last conscious thought was a plea for help.

The Eighth Chapter

In the High Mountains West of the Mountain City

“H
ave they found her yet?”
Arandur asked as soon as Thalion’s eyes opened. Thalion dropped his gaze and Arandur had his answer. “We should have gone after her ourselves.” Arandur rammed the stick he’d been whittling into the ground and pocketed his knife. “This would have never happened if we’d gone after her ourselves.”

Arandur arose, then stalked a few steps away from the campfire to stare intently out into the darkness. He wanted to kick something, hit something. Kill the stupid humans they’d been babysitting for the past few days and get back to real work. He opened his mouth to give the order that they pack up camp when Sintriel appeared at his side. She laid her hand gently against his arm; he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Why did she always know.

“It is good to follow orders,” she said plainly.

“Yes, but at what cost?”

“There is always a cost, one way or another. Would you have less skilled scouts track these humans and end up dead themselves?” she asked inquisitively.

Arandur sighed deeply, letting the frustration roll off him. “I cannot believe that they’ve been unable to find her.”

“There are several paths through the high mountains; they have yet to find the direction she’s chosen.”

“Leave it to Analindë to complicate her own rescue.” Arandur tugged his coat closed, the wind was chilly.

Thalion stepped forward to stand at his other side, then spoke quietly. “From what I hear, Lord Master Therin did that all by himself.”

“What do you mean Thalion?” Arandur asked.

“He scryed for her, and found her, then tried to partially port through the spell to speak with her. She reacted predictably by blocking him out and then running. No one has been able to locate her since.”

Arandur shook his head. “She was barely into her powers.”

“She’s a Mage of Lindënolwë and has mage potential more than most. Would you expect any less?”

Sintriel answered in derision, “With all the young students Master Therin has tutored throughout the years, it’s incredible that he lacked the forethought to see that she would be afraid. Of course she would be afraid. Even I would have been afraid, perhaps.”

“Take courage Arandur, they’ll find her eventually.”

“Yes, but what state will she be in when they do? Did she pack enough food? Did she take an extra change of clothes. What about a winter jacket, a blanket, or a pair of gloves? If she should fall and injure herself, who will be there to give her aid?”

He bowed his head, exhaling his fears. He rubbed the knotted muscles at the back of his neck. Urúvion and Morcion would soon be back. He needed to pull himself together. “How many scouts do they have searching for her?”

“About a dozen. They’ve been placed at the known trailheads on the other side of the mountain range. They’re quickly working their way in, not knowing which path she’ll have chosen to take.”

“That is good news.” He stood up straight, rolling his shoulders back as he did so. “Come, dinner smells like it’s ready, and if I’m not mistaken, our fellow scouts will be here in a moment.”

Not long after the three companions settled back down around the comfortable campfire, the other two scouts ducked into camp. Morcion seemed blissfully unaware of the lingering tension in the air. Urúvion eyed Arandur in concern as they joined them around the fire. Arandur nodded back, acknowledging that he knew Urúvion had overheard their discussion.

“Urúvion, report,” Arandur stated.

The scout nodded, then said, “We took inventory of the amateurish wards that the human wizard managed to set up around tonight’s encampment. The other two humans have become mistrustful of the wizard’s skills and have set up perimeter noise traps of their own. Morcion has reached out to some of the local wildlife. They’ve agreed to trip some of the traps throughout the night in order to keep the humans awake, paranoid, and short of sleep. We showed the animals the best way to set off the traps without being injured or caught.”

“Great thinking,” said Arandur. “Morcion, many thanks for using your talents thus. If the humans aren’t up to full strength, then it might give us more time to learn their intentions before the council decides which course of action we should take.”

Morcion nodded and Urúvion continued, “We also studied the flow of power in the areas where the human set up his wards. The human has grabbed power from the flow in an uncontrolled manner. Fortunately, the protections he’s set aren’t that powerful and so the damage is minimal. The flow should self-heal within the next few years.” Urúvion paused briefly, then continued. “However, we believe that the human wizard is potentially very dangerous. We believe he’s attempting to tap into the deeper pools of power in the area, and if that happens, then he’ll cause a lot more damage.”

Arandur leaned forward, frowning. “But they haven’t yet tapped into the pools?”

“No, they haven’t.”

“Thank the Stars.”

“Indeed,” Sintriel muttered.

Urúvion continued, “We located a hidden place a safe distance away from the encampment where I was able to listen in on the humans. They’re quite disgruntled, and I’ve noticed that their working relationships have disintegrated over the past couple of days. I anticipate that it won’t take much to turn them on each other. While Morcion and I surveyed the camp, it seemed that they were fighting over a bowl of water. If I’m not mistaken, they’ve been waiting for someone to give further instructions to them, but no one has yet contacted them.

“We didn’t want to mistakenly miss them speaking with the traitors, so we waited until the water was poured out of the bowl and they’d bedded down for sleep before returning to camp.”

“Well done, Urúvion. Thalion, do you know much about communicating through a medium like water?”

Thalion shook his head. “Not very much. It’s rumored that in the past there were many ways to communicate long distances, one of which was tied to a method like scrying. It would make use of a bowl of water, or a glassy surface, so that one could see as well as hear the person one communicated with. Unfortunately, some of these forms of communication have been deliberately shrouded throughout time, especially in the time since the last wars.” He paused, looking away from the group, then back again. “Personally, I think that many of our people just wanted to forget, and so they did.”

“Sintriel?” Arandur asked.

She shook her head, meaning that she had nothing to add.

“The Sword Sworn might know. You don’t happen to have any old friends in the service who you could reach out to, do you?” Arandur asked Thalion.

He shivered, an odd look crossed his face, and then he said, “Yes, I think there’s someone I could reach out to.” He closed his eyes.

Sintriel elbowed him, hissing, “You shouldn’t have asked. Most times it’s best not to bring yourself to their attention.”

Confused, Arandur apologized to Sintriel saying that he didn’t know. Then he thought to himself of how there was much about the Sword Sworn he didn’t know, that none of them knew. Those in the service were the Realm’s secret keepers. But they were more than that; they were protectors, ever on the watch, ready to stand guard to keep the peace. If ever there was a time to use Sword Sworn knowledge or services, now was that time. It had been a logical next step to contact the elite corps, but now he wondered at the cost to his friend.

Thalion’s eyes were still closed, his face blank, and so Arandur turned his attention back to the others in the group. “So have any of you thought further upon why the humans are able to move so quickly and are stronger than we thought possible?”

Morcion moved to speak, but Sintriel beat him to it.

“Actually, yes, I have, and I think I’ve figured it out. They’re wearing charms. Very ancient and powerful protective charms. The amulets they wear are giving them limited strength, which appears to have just run out. We should expect them to move significantly slower and sleep longer over the next few days as the charms recharge and the humans physically recover. Also, any offensive action we take against them should be non-power based, which shouldn’t present any problems to us since we aren’t mages. If the humans are attacked by any type of offensive spell, the amulet is keyed to attack the attackers with up to level eighteen spells.”

Arandur grinned. Sintriel was a gem. “Thanks Sintriel.” She grinned back at him, pleased that she’d been able to speak.

Morcion added with a smile toward Sintriel, “The animals I’ve spoken with have confirmed that the humans are wearing amulets. They say that the amulet worn by the wizard is different, that it is larger than the others.”

“Have they happened to mention what the amulets look like?” Arandur asked.

“Yes, they’re silver with green enameled ornamentation.” Arandur nodded, thoughtful once more. He glanced over to Thalion. His eyes were open and a hand rested against his chest. The two friends exchanged looks but neither mentioned the ancient amulet that Thalion wore beneath his shirt.

“How old did you say the charms were Sintriel?”

“Quite old. Several generations old at least,” she replied easily.

“Morcion, you’ll let us know if you learn anything further?”

“Yes, of course,” Morcion said.

“What news Thalion?”

“Not the kind we expected.”

Arandur frowned, he didn’t like the look in his friend’s eyes. Reaching out to the Sword Sworn
had
been the wrong thing to do. “Had they heard of that form of communication?”

“Yes, they’d heard, but didn’t know much more than we. They said they’d begin combing their archives for more information, specifically on how to intercept those communications. However, they did ask me to pass along a message. They didn’t specifically state who the message was for but insisted that it be relayed.” Thalion’s gaze didn’t quite meet Arandur’s eyes.

Very curious and slightly ill at ease, Arandur asked, “What is the message?”

“They said people in the realm have begun the swearing of oaths again one to another.” Thalion said the words evenly, without nuance.

“
Gette lor’ de lissance
,” Urúvion spat out, glaring at the ground before him. “It’s an oath that’s been twisted and bent from its original form. True oath binding rarely happens these days so beware of any who offer it to you. It brings a false surety to those poor fools that are taken in.”

“I agree,” Sintriel added.

This turn in the discussion left Arandur unsettled, and so he pushed Sintriel as he usually wouldn’t. “Sintriel, come, surely you can tell us more than that?”

He couldn’t read her face, but she stared down each of them in turn before relenting. “There are two types of oath binding, one for allies, the other as fealty. The oath still works for those that use it truly, the rest stands. If someone offers you a false oath, be wary, cautious.”

“These humans!” Arandur stood. “What have they started?” He ran a hand through his hair. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to step away for a moment.” And so he left them, the others avoided his gaze. Stalking out into the surrounding darkness to be alone, he wanted to rage, he wanted to yell. He could do neither, so he walked until he calmed down. A leader was level headed. A leader made smart decisions and did not place his friends in danger lightly. A leader did not bring hidden talents to the attention of dangerous people. He wanted to swear, break something. Instead, he sat on the ground, channeled his anger to give him better reach and then sent his focus running down toward the human encampment.

He left his body completely.

Idiocy?

Yes, absolutely.

Did he care?

No. He did not.

The area was mostly safe as his friends were nearby. And at the moment, he didn’t care if assassins came and slaughtered him where he sat.

His thoughts circled the camp, taking note of the human traps and wards as he passed them. He moved around the humans from a distance, not wanting to wake the protective charm that watched over them. It wasn’t long before he’d itemized everything within the camp. And not long after that before he’d deduced which item the humans had attempted to scry with. The bowl was shallow, silver, and had a faint pulse of Energy about it. It hadn’t been used in quite some time, but it had been used nonetheless. The Energy signatures on the bowl were Elven.