Elfhunter (64 page)

They raced toward her, calling and begging her to
turn about. She looked over her shoulder and beheld them, then
raised her hand in farewell. Her friends had come too late. She
bent over, picked up a large stone and clutched it to her chest
with both arms. Rogond called frantically to try to stop her, but
she seemed not to hear. She was afraid, that was plain in the way
she shrank back just a little from the edge. Rogond saw her take
several deep breaths, as though gathering herself. Then, to his
horror, she simply stepped off the edge, plummeting toward the
churning water, as Nelwyn screamed her name.

Gaelen gasped as the cold waters took her breath
away, filling her mouth and throat. Her eyes were tightly shut, for
she knew there would be nothing to see as she sank into the
churning depths, aided by the stone. She released it and was swept
along in the current of the Narrows, her body occasionally fetching
painfully against the boulders that were strewn along the riverbed,
but this brought only a dull ache to her numbed limbs. She had been
holding her breath, certainly a natural response, but then she
remembered her purpose and forced all the remaining air from her
lungs in a silver torrent that rose rapidly to the surface, lost in
the foam. Her eyes opened then—the roaring in her ears and the
pounding of her heart were lost in a black tunnel that closed in
around her, and she saw and heard nothing more.

Gaelen could see nothing but blackness, and could
hear nothing but the roaring in her ears. Then she heard voices
calling, voices that were familiar. She was reliving significant
moments in her past that had elicited particularly strong emotions,
and she was riveted.

Well, done, Gaelen! You will surpass your uncle
Turanen one day if your eye and hand continue to improve
.

You have a new cousin! Her name is Nelwyn. Come and
see!

Aran is dead. He is dead, Gaelen, and you must let
him go. Let him go, my daughter. You could not have prevented
it.

She is but a Sylvan hunter-scout, my son. She is not
a fitting consort for you, this undersized, boyish rustic with no
respect for convention. And she is certainly no beauty. Whatever do
you see in her?

I am certain that you go whither you will even when
forbidden, O Free Spirit. I would have your company; will you ride
with me?

Even were you the mightiest Elf-maiden ever to draw
breath and capable of great skill at arms, I would not have you
stay. The thought of losing you would be too great for me to bear.
Do you understand?

I will wait for you—one day we will be together
again. But in the meantime, you must live your life! And you must
not live it alone, in grief for me.

You will not cross the mountains with us, but
instead will remain with the Tuathan and the dwarf ? And what is
your lofty motive for this course?

Gaelen, my friend, my love, thank you for being
here. You carry an evil before you. Keep your distance!

Did you not hear? I will have no other. You are my
love, Gaelen, to whom my heart is given.

That is why he did not kill Gaelen in Cós-domhain,
though he came perilously close.

We all love you. Please come to us.

Then she heard Ri-Elathan’s cries of anguish as
Wrothgar took his life. She heard his voice in her mind, as she had
in the Greatwood:
Gaelen… Gaelen! My heart is torn from me…I
cannot stay with you, my love!

I am sorry…I cannot stay with you…Oh, my love…

Her eyes flew open, but there was only darkness
around her. She was lying upon a soft, dry bed of sand near a body
of calm water, over which a thick mist was hanging. The voices…they
must have been coming from the mist. For a moment she forgot all
about Gorgon, the mirror, and the Narrows, as she sat up to survey
the strange, lonely landscape before her. There were weird lights
in the mist. She had seen such lights hovering around bogs and
marshes, but these did not seem as sinister, somehow. The water
lapped gently at the sand, and there was very little other sound in
her hearing, save for the voices, which were now so distant and
indistinct that she could no longer decipher them.

One of the lights in the mist was growing larger, and
it seemed to be coming toward her. She rose to her feet and
approached the shore, straining into the blackness, to try to make
out the nature of the light. It was a figure, tall and strong, with
a red-orange light like a halo around it. Gaelen looked down at her
own hands; they glowed and flickered with the same sort of fiery
light. Her blood ran cold as she realized that she was now standing
upon the shores where the shades of both the Elàni and the Aridani
await transport to their respective fates. So, she was dead, then?
Her memories of the Narrows and the events leading to it came back
to her in a rush, and she was afraid. Then, she heard a voice
calling gently; it was the fiery figure that drew ever nearer as it
seemed to float across the surface of the waters.

Gaelen Taldin…my love, do not fear. I have been
sent to give aid and counsel. Do not fear.
It was the voice of
Farahin, her beloved, and her heart leapt as she beheld his strong,
grim face for the first time in well over a thousand years. She
wanted to run to him, to fall into his arms and let him take her
pain away. She reached out with both hands, trembling, her fiery
aura burning bright around her, but he stopped just out of her
reach. As she looked into his melancholy eyes, she knew there would
be no opportunity to embrace him.

Rain…Rain, why won’t you hold me?

I cannot. I have been sent here for a single
purpose, and I must not turn from it, though my heart would desire
otherwise.

What purpose? I am dead, or I would not be here.
No one has come to stay
me. Are you not here to guide me to
the Far Shores? I’m afraid... please guide
me. Take me with
you!

Ri-Elathan smiled sadly at her and shook his head,
the gentle glow flaming out around him.
That is not my purpose.
I want nothing more than to take you with me, but I cannot. You
must return to your life. It is not your time, and you have a
purpose to accomplish before your end comes.

What purpose? I am dead, Rain, and I cannot return.
I am dead because I willed it to be so. I have made it my time.

So you say, but it is not the will of destiny that
you go with me now. I have been sent here only to waylay you, to
make certain that you return at once. Though I long to be united
with you again, I know that it is not to be. Not yet. This is not
your choice to make. You must return, and accomplish your purpose.
You are the instrument by which the evil that stalks the Elàni will
end.

Gaelen let out a moan of misery, remembering the
events that had driven her to take her own life.
I am the
instrument by which that vile creature works his evil! If I am
gone, then he can no longer prey on our people using the mirror.
The Greatwood will fall because of me. I cannot go back!

She reached out to him again, and he extended a
tentative hand toward her. They were so close now, she could almost
touch him. Then he drew back and closed his eyes. When he opened
them again, the fire flared around him.

You cannot turn away from your fate, Gaelen, even as
I could not. The Tuathan knows how the creature may be defeated.
You will work together to vanquish him and his army. Rogond is true
of heart and steadfast in his love for you. Open your heart again,
my love. I sorrow for you in your loneliness. He will fill your
days and gladden them as I cannot. I shall await you, but only when
the time is right will I rejoice in our union. That time is not
now. Remember my words at our parting? Grieve for me no more.

His head lifted as though hearing a distant call.
There is not much time. You must return now, my beloved. Your
task remains, and soon it will be too late. Go back now, and
remember that I love you.

No! Do not turn from me! Hold me, please, just
hold me for a little while. I will go back, if you will only hold
me now.
She reached for him in desperation, but he drew farther
from her.

No, Gaelen, I cannot. If I embrace you, there will
be no returning. Go back now, little Taldin. Go and accomplish your
task and rid our people of this scourge. You are strong in spirit,
and resolute. You will prevail. I will welcome you into my arms
when the time is right.
He began to fade from her vision then.
Gaelen could hear the voices calling him back.

Who calls to you, Beloved? Tell them that you would
stay with me yet awhile. I have so many things I would know…do you
hear me when I sing to you? Can you feel my heart as it cries for
you in the darkness? Do you know what comes to pass in the world of
the living? Are you lonely in the Vault of Eternity?

I can answer none of your questions directly, as it
is not permitted. Continue to sing to me if it brings you aid, but
do not grieve. Remember the Aridan. He knows how the creature may
be vanquished. Go back to him, and let your heart be glad!

He faded slowly from her sight, even as her plaintive
cries echoed after him, begging him to stay. Gaelen knew that he
was right, she had to go back now, and time had run out. But
somehow she simply could not lose him again, and without
considering the consequences, she plunged into the cold, dark
water, following the fading sound of his voice.

Immediately the surface became turbulent, and the
once-calm waters threatened to engulf her. She blundered away from
the shoreline, still calling after him, as his voice faded
completely from her hearing. The water was very deep and very cold,
and there was a sense that it resented this invasion, for it felt
somehow hostile, as though it would either expel her or drag her
under. She called Ri-Elathan’s name with failing strength,
floundering in the water, choking and gasping. She knew then that
she could not follow him; she had to go back. She struggled to the
shore once again, the waters casting her up into the shallows,
where she lay senseless and unmoving in a dark, silent world.

Rogond and Nelwyn had watched in horror as Gaelen
plunged into the Narrows. They ran to the top of the bluffs to see
if, against all hope, they might find where she had gone and
attempt a rescue. But there was nothing to be seen save the wild
water, and they despaired. Still neither would give her up as yet,
and they made their way down the perilous climb to the water’s
edge.

"We must be swift; the current will take her far
downstream in a matter of minutes. She has not long to live!"
Nelwyn wept at Rogond’s words, for she knew he was right. But for
some miracle, Gaelen was surely lost to them.

Galador and Fima had gone with all speed toward the
Elven- hold, arriving just as Nelwyn and Rogond caught sight of
Gaelen at the Narrows. They were met by Wellyn, son of Ri-Aruin,
for he had been stricken by a feeling of foreboding bordering on
panic, and he would know all they could tell him. A few minutes
later Wellyn, who knew Gaelen well, had swung aboard Gryffa, and
the three of them were heading southward along the river, toward
the Narrows.

Many minutes had gone by, and Rogond’s hope was
failing. He would never retrieve Gaelen from this swift water, so
cold and deep. They could see nothing beneath the surface, or along
the shore. Still they kept their southward course, and soon the
Narrows ended, broadening into a gentler flow. Nelwyn gave a cry,
for she had seen something on the far bank that just might have
been Gaelen’s faded green tunic. Then she beheld a brief, tiny
glint of metal as the sunlight hit Ri-Elathan’s silver brooch, the
gift of Arialde. Nelwyn gripped Rogond’s arm and pointed. With a
cry, they both plunged into the icy waters. The crossing was
difficult, and they had to make their way back north to where
Gaelen lay, for the current had drawn them downstream. They
approached her as quickly as they could, but as they drew nigh her
they both suspected that they had come too late.

Gaelen’s face was expressionless, her sightless eyes
were open, and her lips were blue. She was dead; Nelwyn knew it as
she took Gaelen’s cold, lifeless hand. There was no spirit there,
no spark of life. Nelwyn sat still as stone as Rogond knelt beside
her, calling Gaelen’s name as though she had merely fallen asleep
and he would awaken her. Nelwyn began to weep, wrapping both arms
around her shoulders, rocking back and forth on her knees. Rogond
lifted Gaelen and held her, after searching for signs of life and
finding none. There was an expression of determination on his face
as he carried her from the rocky waters and laid her upon the sand.
He began to compress her chest with his hands, trying to expel the
water from her lungs. Murky river water gurgled ominously from her
mouth and nostrils, and his hopes sank, but he kept trying. He
worked on her for several minutes, now breathing for her, now
trying to start her heart beating, but she was cold and still, and
his hopes were in vain.

Nelwyn wrapped her arms around him, trying to stay
him from his fruitless effort to bring her back, speaking soft,
gentle words. "Rogond… Rogond, she is gone. She is with Farahin,
and we cannot reach her. Leave her in peace. Rogond, my friend,
it’s all right. She is beyond grief and pain. Let her be at
peace."

Rogond seemed not to hear, and he kept trying. Nelwyn
persisted, and all at once he stopped his efforts, lifted Gaelen,
and held her to him, weeping quietly. Nelwyn spoke words of
comfort, but his heart was broken and he did not hear.

Gaelen could feel the cold sand under her body, but
could neither move nor speak. Her eyes were open, but they saw only
blackness, and she heard only the waters of the Dark Lake. Then she
heard Rogond’s voice. He was weeping, calling her name, saying he
was sorry that he had come too late, that he had failed her. She
could not respond, and her senses would give her nothing more. She
then remembered her purpose, and that she had to return from this
dark realm, as she was not yet welcome in it. She mustered all the
strength of her spirit and tried to will herself back into Rogond’s
world. Slowly and with great effort, she began to perceive the
sights and sounds around her. First, she felt Rogond holding her
and heard his voice. She longed for him in her heart and struggled
back to him as he held her and wept. She could not breathe. She
needed to breathe!