Call of Sunteri (Keepers of the Wellsprings Book 2) (16 page)

Outside, another sound mixes with the whispering and screeching. A lower sound. Like wind catching in a sail, but more rhythmic. Steadier. The sun creeps out again. The storm cloud has broken. The Dreamwalker is gone. The Wildwood in the carriage pause. They look to the sky. The sound comes louder, and with it an odd clicking. Bird-like. Hissing. Snake-like. I creep back to Saesa. She’s holding on.

“The pink vial. Give it to her.”

I search in my bandolier. Find the vial. Give it to her. She drinks it and looks better. An eerie silence falls over the carriage. All around us, the Wildwood crouch down. Hide their heads. They’re like mounds of earth, dotted with seedlings and mushrooms. The three of us peer up out of the window. A great feathered wing sweeps across our view. As Saesa passes the vial to Raefe, I pull myself up to look.

There are three of them. Strange creatures, with bird-like, feathered white bodies. Bigger than horses. At their chests, the feathers fade to scales of blue, green, purple. Their heads are proud. Like swans, with pointed beaks and yellow eyes. On their backs, each has a person. No, an elf. I know what they are, even though these are the first I’ve seen. Sister always wanted to meet one. She read stories and stories about them. Now I understand why. There are two men and one woman, and even the men are beautiful. All dressed in white. Slender and elegant, with pale faces that smile even though now they’re stern. I think these must be kings and a queen, the way sit with their backs so straight and their shoulders so square.

“Go,” one of the men says. All around us, the rest of the Wildwood hop up and skitter away. Back to the woods. Back to shelter.

“What is it, Tib?” Saesa asks weakly.

“Elves,” I reply. “Riding bird-lizards.”

“The White Line,” she whispers. “On cygnets. Oh, I want to see.” I drop down beside them. Raefe’s arms are around her. He’s shivering even though it’s not cold. Pale. Saesa is slumped against him. She looks a little better after the potion. Not much, but she’s stopped bleeding. I wonder how I got through it without getting hurt. I’m sure Mevyn has something to do with that.

Outside, the elves speak quietly to one another. I don’t understand the words. It sounds like Mage talk. The hair on my arms prickles up. I don’t like magic. It isn’t a spell, though. Just talking. I hear them dismount lightly. Their feet barely make a sound as they walk among the fallen.

“Go and greet them.”

I don’t want to leave the other two, but Mevyn tells me he’ll stay with them. Don’t worry, he says. But I am, a little. Something nags at me. A thought that I try hard to push away. He should have fought more. He should have, but he just hid and ordered instead. Saesa fought. Raefe fought. Mevyn hid. I climb up out of the window. Look at the bodies all around. Dozens of Wildwood. Our three guards and driver. Four horses. Five, if I count the first one we lost. My anger grows. Mevyn has magic. Magic powerful enough that those Wildwood creatures wanted him. He could have done more. He could have prevented these deaths.

“Begone from here,” the lady elf says. Her hair is long and white. It shines yellow in the sunlight that comes through the trees. She carries a bow that’s almost as tall as she is. The carvings on it are detailed. I want to see them closer. Instinct tells me to look away, but I can’t stop staring. I creep forward. “You are not welcome.” At first I think she means me, but then a voice echoes through my thoughts.

“
I go where I like
,” it says.

“You shall fail,” one of the men declares. His hair is long, too, and just as white. His armor is white. His sword and shield are white. “You shall be destroyed.”

“Go, Dreamwalker. While you are still able.” This one is the same as the other two. Too beautiful to look at. So white he gleams and I have to squint, but I can’t look away. As he walks toward me, I can feel the weight of the Dreamwalker lifted. It’s almost like the elf has a cloud following him. A bright cloud. Full of hope. It settles over me as he raises a fist to his chest to greet me.

Even through the elf’s fog of false-hope, I hear the Dreamwalker’s reply. “
It has only begun
.” Then, nothing.

“He’s gone,” I whisper, relieved.

“He can hold no sway over us,” the elf explains. “The Dreaming cannot touch the elves.” He smiles down at me. He’s tall, very tall. The other two brush past us, checking the fallen. I watch one of them pause at Gruss. I hold my breath. She whispers something to him. He sputters. Coughs. Curses. Moves to grab his sword. She holds him down. Murmurs soothing words in elven. He settles. She raises her head, tips it to the side. Stares at the carriage. Says something in their language.

“
I see now, what had the Wildwood so interested
,” Mevyn translates her words in my mind.

“Oh, that is clever.” Her laugh is melodic. It makes me smile. She turns to me. “I shall speak in your language then, my child. Come with us to the wall. There, we can discuss things more openly. All of us.” She helps Gruss to his feet. The men help Saesa and Raefe from the overturned carriage.

Saesa gapes at the cygnets. Raefe stares at the road strewn with bodies. The elves help us onto the mounts. They secure us in the front of the saddles. Saesa and I sit together, side by side with the lady elf behind us. The cygnet’s wings stretch out, and we slowly rise.

Up we go, higher than the tree tops. Higher than the ship’s tallest mast. Higher than the tallest burning tower. Higher than the cliffs of Cerion. I can see everything from here. All of the world. I want to stay in the sky forever, with the wind blowing my hair and the sun shining on my face. No one can touch me here. Up here, I’m safe. Up here, I’m free. Beside me, Saesa whoops and throws her fist up.

“Saesa, hold on! Both hands!” Raefe shouts from the cygnet beside us. He isn’t enjoying the ride as much. His shoulders are hunched, his knuckles white. He says something to the elf behind him who laughs. Raefe leans over and loses his breakfast. On the cygnet on the other side of us, Gruss clings to the seat. He looks like he’ll be ill, too.

“Go higher! Faster!” Saesa shouts, and our rider pulls the reins to make the cygnet surge upward. We laugh together as we glide on the wind until I can see the line of white stretching through the forest below us. The cygnets dip low and my stomach jumps up as we glide along the White Wall. It’s just like Saesa described. The trees are tall, bold, and white. They’re shaped like kings, with branches sprouting from their heads like crowns. When we get closer, I can see platforms along the branches. Some are lined with sentinels and others are empty. We land on one of the empty ones with an easy grace that surprises me.

My heart races as the lady elf helps me and Saesa down. This place is nothing like Sunteri’s desert or Cerion’s snow-covered streets. Everywhere is green. It smells like flowers and sounds like rushing water. It reminds me of the atrium in the castle, where Margy offered me nectar and cakes. Other elves rush to take care of the cygnets while our three lead us away from them. Raefe still looks a little green. He leans on Saesa for support. Something about this place makes me feel lighter. I can see it in the others, too. Even Gruss looks better.

“Where are we going?” he asks. “What about my fallen comrades? We can’t just leave them in the road.”

“They are being retrieved, even now,” the elf who was Raefe’s driver says. “We shall respectfully return their bodies to Cerion.”

He turns to face us as we pause in a small room with a high, domed ceiling. There’s a hole at the top to let the light in. It shines over carvings in the wood. Leaves and fairies. Wildwoods and flowers. Winding vines. Animals great and small. They seem to dance along the wall. I don’t realize the elf is talking to me until I feel Mevyn nudge my jaw. I blink. Everyone is staring. Waiting for me to answer whatever his question was.

“Sorry, what?” I ask.

“I said, you are the bonded one?” I glance at the others. Remember what Mevyn told me. We’re a pair. We’re bonded now. We work together. Belong together. I nod. Saesa looks at me, confused. “Very well. The two of you shall join me, please. The other three shall go with Julini and Zevlain.” He makes a graceful gesture with his hands at the other elves and bows his head. Raefe scowls and counts us.

“Um, there’s only four of us,” Raefe says. Julini and Zevlain laugh softly.

“Doesn’t matter, we’re not splitting up.” Gruss crosses his arms. “I’m sworn to protect these. All of them. Can’t do it if some are one place and some are another.”

“And I’m not going anywhere without Tib.” Saesa steps to me. Takes my hand. My face gets hot.

“Nor I, without Saesa.” Raefe puts a hand on Saesa’s shoulder and she rolls her eyes slightly.

“
Adorable
,” Julini says in the elf tongue. Thanks to Mevyn, I understand her. “
Still they don’t trust us.
”

“
What do you expect?
” Zevlain shakes his head. “
Especially from that one. The guard.
”

“Their language is so beautiful,” Saesa whispers. “Like a song without music.”

“We shall go together, then,” the first one says. “But if you wish our help, we will need to speak with the one who needs it most.”

“I’ve heard the elves were cryptic,” Raefe whispers as we follow them through bright archways. “Guess that wasn’t an exaggeration.”

Once, when I was young, I found a wasps’ nest that had been abandoned. I pulled it apart and discovered all of the little chambers where the wasps made their homes. The White Wall reminds me of that nest. One side is closed off, with rows and rows of doors that go all the way to the treetops and down to the roots, too. The other side is arches grown from the wood of the trees. It overlooks a sunlit valley far below. Mists from waterfalls float in places along our path. It’s sort of the same as my root prison, but it feels too different here. Peaceful. Safe. Bright.

They bring us to a high platform that has comfortable chairs and a table set with food and drink. Above us cygnets roost in the towering branches of the tree. Below, a little stream trickles down along ferns and moss. It’s a nice sound. I like it. It’s pleasant here.

“Well, perhaps we should start at the beginning,” my rider puts his fist to his chest again. “I am Shoel. This is Julini, and that is Zevlain. We are three of the White Line. Our station is
Kueles’ke
, the Mountain Road, as you call it. Our cygnets heard your struggle while we were out on patrol. I regret our timing. Perhaps many Wildwood would have been spared, had we arrived sooner.”

“What about our men?” Gruss demands. “Our horses? Those rabble attacked us, and you mourn for them? Then you wonder why we don’t trust you.” Gruss glares at the elves. “I lost three good men out there and some fine horses, too. If your job is to keep those creatures in check, you’re doing a poor one.”

“
Adorable,
” Julini smiles. “
Look how his face goes so red.
”

“
Don’t laugh, Juli. See how upset he is?
” Zevlain murmurs beside her.

“And you don’t even have the courtesy to speak Common!” Gruss barks. Saesa, Raefe, and I move closer to each other. We stay quiet, like children are supposed to when adults are fighting.

“Forgive my contradiction,” Shoel’s tone is calm. Peaceful. Like he and Gruss are having a cordial conversation about the weather. “It is not our job to keep the Wildwood in check. They are creatures of their own mind, as you and I are. Also, they do not fall within our borders so, as far as elfkind is concerned, they are free to do as they wish.”

“So you’re saying since they’re in Cerion and not Ceras’lain, they’re not your problem?” Gruss crosses his arms.

“Indeed.” Shoel nods. “Still, it is unusual for the Wildwood to disturb travelers. They are peaceful creatures. They keep to themselves.”

“Well, something got into these,” Gruss says. “Never saw anything like it.”

“Yes, you are most right,” Zevlain says. He looks at me. “Something did.”

Gruss doesn’t miss it. He puts himself between me and the elf. Rests a hand on his sword.

“Friend,” Julini smiles at Gruss, “tell me, what was your vow regarding these young ones?”

“To see them safely to the gates of Ceras’lain.”

“And so you have,” says Julini softly. “Your vow is met. Your task is done. Leave them in our care. We shall give you a meal and a horse for your return. Come.” She rests a hand on his shoulder. Smiles. Slowly, his knit-together brow smoothes out. He turns to us.

“Thank him. Tell him you’ll be safe.”

“Thank you, Gruss. We’ll be all right here. Right, Saesa? Right, Raefe?” The other two nod slowly. They don’t seem as sure as I do. Raefe gives Julini a lazy smile. I think he likes her.

“Thank you, Gruss.” Saesa echoes me and then rushes to him and hugs him. “We thought you’d been killed. I’m so glad you weren’t!”

Gruss returns her hug. He looks at me over her disheveled red curls. “You sure?” he asks.

I nod, but he still hesitates.

“We shall keep them safe. We have no reason to harm children here. Please, go with a light heart. You have fought bravely. May your journey home be quick and without peril,” Shoel bows to him.

“Right…” Gruss shrugs one shoulder uncomfortably. “And I guess I should thank you. For saving my life and all.”

“Of course,” Julini smiles.

“Well, you lot be careful,” he says, pointing at the three of us. Then he glances at the elves again, and follows Julini out.