Emerald of the Elves (12 page)

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Authors: Richard S. Tuttle

Tags: #Fantasy, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Young Adult

BOOK: Emerald of the Elves
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“Is that why you collapsed when the gems were inserted into the Sword of Heavens?” questioned Niki. “Was it because the Darkness was gone?”

“I believe that is the case,” affirmed Master Khatama.

“But you started losing your memory again not long after you collapsed at Barouk,” frowned Niki. “That still does not make any sense.”

“I started losing it again after I left the clear skies and passed under the Darkness once again,” Boris revealed.

“But your memory loss was faster than before,” protested Niki. “I think it just comes and goes.”

“The memory loss was faster,” agreed Boris, “and that is a clue. My memory recovery is also getting faster. At Dorgun after I collapsed, my memory came back swiftly.”

“That means that you should avoid going under the Darkness again,” warned Fredrik. “If the speed of your memory change is accelerating, you could be in great danger under the Darkness.”

“And we shall pass under the Darkness tomorrow,” cautioned Adan. “I agree with Fredrik. Based upon what you have said tonight, you should not continue on with us to Southland.”

“I fear you are correct,” sighed Master Khatama.

“That still doesn’t explain why everything is happening faster to you,” mused Tedi. “Do you think it could be just getting worse with time?”

“Worse?” echoed Master Khatama. “Regaining my memory at a faster rate is certainly not worse. Only the losing of my memory could be so described.”

“Suppose there is goodness in a normal sky,” posed Adan. “That goodness restores your memory. It is the opposite of the Darkness.”

“And with more goodness,” added Natia, “you recover your memory faster.”

“That doesn’t work,” Tedi shook his head. “The memory loss is also accelerating, and there is less Darkness with each gem that is restored to the Sword of Heavens.”

“Less Darkness?” questioned Master Khatama. “Is it less Darkness, or more concentrated Darkness?”

“And a greater concentration of evil,” nodded Adan. “That means that people still living under the Darkness will have more evil tendencies.”

“Is the evil in the Darkness the reason for things like the Contest of Power?” questioned Tedi. “And the rogue armies of Sordoa?”

“It certainly could be,” nodded Master Khatama.

“Then things in Tagaret may go poorly for Arik,” frowned Fredrik. “It is still under the Darkness.”

“But Lanoir is not,” countered Adan. “Does this mean that Emperor Hanchi might not invade Sordoa?”

“The Darkness is by no means the only source of evil,” Boris shook his head. “There was plenty of evil in the world before it arrived, but your fears may be justified, Fredrik. There is no longer any doubt that the Darkness is here for a purpose other than just blocking out the sun.”

“Why are the rest of us not losing our memories?” asked Niki. “If that is what the Darkness does to you, why doesn’t it do it to me?”

“I am peculiarly susceptible to Alutar,” declared Master Khatama. “We are opposites of a nature. It is only logical that Alutar’s spell would affect me more than anyone else.”

“Could the Darkness be an attack aimed against you then?” asked Adan. “Perhaps it has nothing to do with Sarac at all.”

“It could be revenge for me sealing Alutar in a prison Universe,” nodded Master Khatama. “I fail to see how he could gloat about it, though. He is, after all, banished from this Universe.”

“For all time?” asked Adan.

“No,” frowned Boris. “If we fail at fulfilling the Ancient Prophecy, Sarac will reign for a thousand years. At the end, Alutar will return.”

“A thousand years?” gasped Niki. “Well, that is certainly something we don’t have to worry about.”

Adan shook his head knowingly as he stared at Master Khatama.

* * *

“This bread is stale,” the Dark One scowled at the Black Devil.

The Black Devil looked around Sarac’s office and shrugged. He bowed low before the Dark One.

“There is no fresh bread available,” apologized the Black Devil. “Do you wish me to take it away?”

“In all the world there is no fresh bread?” yelled Sarac. “Or am I no longer important enough for you to make that extra effort?”

The Black Devil shivered with fear and started backing out of the room. Sarac’s hand flashed upward, and an icy blue streak shot across the room. The freeze ball impacted the Black Devil and froze him instantly.

“I am the Dark One,” bellowed Sarac. “I rule the world and all of its Universes. Never tell me that something is impossible.”

Sarac shook his head in rage, his long black hair swaying furiously. He sneered evilly with his teeth clenched tightly together as his black eyes peered at the frozen servant. In a burst of fury, Sarac unleashed a fireball at the Black Devil’s feet. The ice around the man’s feet instantly yielded to the heat, and a puddle of water grew on the floor. The puddle began to evaporate into steam as the fire ate through the man’s boots.

The heat of the fire rose and began to melt the ice encasing the Black Devil. Rivers of water cascaded down the man as the fire crept upward. The fire started eating into the man’s flesh, but the only sound in the room was the fire consuming the servant.  As the ice surrounding the man’s head began to melt, a blood-curdling scream emitted from his lips. His body tilted and fell to the floor as the fire burned up the man’s legs.

Lattimer raced into Sarac’s office and halted in the doorway. His eyes grew wide as he viewed the burning spectacle before him. He shouted orders into the corridor and stepped aside as several men came running.

“Get that out of here,” Lattimer commanded.

The men hesitated as they stared at the Dark One. Sarac’s face was twisted in rage. Lattimer stepped between the men and Sarac.

“Get it out of here now,” repeated Lattimer.

The men swiftly grabbed the body by the hair and dragged it out of the room.

“How dare you interrupt my chastising of a fool?” snarled Sarac as his hands rose menacingly.

“Stop it,” demanded Lattimer. “Are you so eager to kill your own men that you will strike down your most trusted servant? Get a hold of yourself.”

Sarac’s face dissolved into a frown as he stared at Lattimer.

“What has come over you?” Latimer asked soothingly. “Did this man try to assassinate you?”

“No,” Sarac answered softly as he blinked his eyes several times. “He brought me stale bread.”

“Sarac,” sighed Lattimer, “these men may be bound to serve you, but if you keep terrorizing them, they will find ways around that. You must learn to control your anger.”

“How can they find ways around the binding?” Sarac asked nervously.

“They could throw their bodies off the tower,” frowned Lattimer. “What is happening to you?”

“I do not know, Lattimer,” Sarac shook his head. “I could not control myself. The piece of stale bread became an affront to me. It was worse than if he had tried to attack me. Suddenly, I knew that he must be taught a lesson. He could not be allowed to defy me like that.”

“A lesson can never be learned by the dead,” Lattimer shook his head. “I fear that something magical is affecting you. Not just you actually, but everyone. I have spent a great deal of time today on behavior issues with the men. Something is making them more irritable. I am not surprised that whatever it is would affect you more severely.”

“But who could be doing this?” questioned Sarac. “Nobody has the power to affect me in this castle.”

“Except the people already here,” posed Lattimer, “and I can not think of anyone here that could wield that type power. I do not have an answer for you, Sarac. I will seek the answer, but you must try to restrain yourself in the meantime.”

“Find the answer quickly, Lattimer,” sighed the Dark One.

Chapter 8
Lure of Tagaret

Alex halted at the edge of the Great Sordoan Desert. He peered out over the vast open wasteland as the Rangers gathered around him.

“I was wondering why you left the main trail early this morning,” commented Tanya. “Are you thinking of crossing the desert again?”

“It would save days off our trip,” nodded Alex.

“What about the ability of Sarac’s people to affect the unicorns’ flying spells?” asked Arik.

Alex looked questioningly at Jenneva.

“I think if we flew close to the ground,” mused Jenneva, “it might work. The spell could still be detected by any Black Devils in the desert, but I do not imagine that many of them would think to camp out in such an inhospitable environment.”

“And by flying low,” smiled Alex, “there is little risk of death by falling. I think it is worth the gamble.”

“What am I supposed to do?” questioned Prince Darok.

“You can double up with me,” offered Arik. “We will get you another horse at Southland. Wylan and Bin-lu left their horses there. You can use one of them.”

The dwarf prince looked dubiously at Arik’s mount.

“Chaco is more than strong enough to handle both of us,” chuckled Arik. “Have you never wanted to fly?”

“Never,” retorted Prince Darok. “Just being on a horse is foreign to me. Now you expect me to fly up in the sky on one?”

“It will hardly be up in the sky,” laughed Alex. “The ride will be smooth.”

“Bah,” scowled the dwarf prince in an attempt to cover up his fear. “Perhaps I should just continue on and meet you there.”

“Time is important to us,” Tanya stated seriously. “I have little doubt that Sarac’s Ravens are tracking us. We cannot sit here and debate this decision. What are we going to do, Prince Arik?”

“I would like to put this traveling behind us and spend some time with my family in Tagaret,” stated Arik.

“You miss your parents?” Jenneva smiled compassionately.

“Very much so,” nodded Arik, “but my grandmother most of all. My time with her has been precious. She acts like she is being stern and only interested in teaching me the ways of royalty, but the smile on her face belies that. The stories she tells me of the past contain great wisdom.”

“Then it is off to the desert we go,” decided Tanya. “Mount up Prince Darok. I will take your packs. Garala awaits you.”

The crusty dwarf prince grumbled under his breath, but he dismounted and transferred his packs to Frea. With great hesitation, Prince Darok finally climbed up behind Arik. Alex nodded with amusement and told Kaz to fly low.

The unicorns lifted off the ground and skimmed over the sandy desert. They hugged the terrain as they soared up over the large dunes, and dived into the valleys between them. Leaving a trail of little dust devils, the Rangers flew northward towards Southland.

* * *

The palanquin halted at the peak of the hill. Emperor Hanchi stepped out and gazed at the valley below. His eight personal bodyguards, who he called the Emperor’s Protectors, immediately formed a ring around him. Hanchi smiled broadly as he gazed at the thousands of campfires in the valley. His personal advisor stepped through the ranks of the Protectors and stood next to the emperor. He was the only person allowed such a privilege, even though the man appeared to be out of place in the imperial entourage.

Rather than being dressed in fine silk garments, the advisor appeared more like a country ruffian. His black robe was fashioned from a thick material, not well suited to the heat of Lanoir, and his features spoke of a northern race. The advisor, however, did not appear to be affected by the heat.

“What do you think, Zorn?” asked the Emperor.

“Impressive,” the advisor replied. “Very impressive. I would wager that you have assembled close to a hundred thousand men.”

“You are not far off,” grinned the emperor. “It is the army we spoke of that day in Kantor.”

“That and more,” nodded Zorn. “A most formidable force. Nothing will stand in its way. You are not planning to ride all the way to Tagaret in that palanquin, I hope?”

“No,” Hanchi shook his head as he pointed to a large square formation in the center of the valley. “That is the emperor’s tent. See the carriage beside it? It is the finest carriage in all of Lanoir. You are welcome to ride in it with me. It will give us time to develop our plans more fully.”

“You have heard about the clearing of the sky over southern Sordoa?” asked Zorn.

“Yes,” nodded the emperor. “The Children of the Ancient Prophecy are making good progress on their quest. There are only three gems left.”

“Will you be able to conquer all of Sordoa within the necessary time?” questioned the advisor.

“That will hardly be a problem,” laughed the emperor. “Look at the might before you. Never in the history of man has such a force been assembled. There is nothing that can stand in my way.”

“Is there another army to handle western Sordoa?” inquired Zorn.

“That is not necessary,” declared Hanchi. “Western Sordoa is mostly a wasteland. By conquering the east, we will rule all of Sordoa. Any city of importance lies along the Sordoan Sea. What is the news from Tagaret?”

“Queen Marta was assassinated,” reported Zorn. “They almost killed Prince Oscar as well, but he still lives.”

“And Arik?” prompted the emperor.

“He has not been found,” replied Zorn.

“Prince Arik must survive,” frowned Hanchi. “Perhaps it is time to give him a present.”

“A present?” echoed the advisor. “What do you have in mind?”

“A list of Black Devil agents in Tagaret,” snickered Hanchi. “We would not want one of them succeeding by accident.”

“That is dangerous,” frowned Zorn. “If you alert Sarac to your plans, he may decide to focus on you instead of Prince Arik.”

“He cannot afford to,” Hanchi grinned evilly. “If the Children of the Ancient Prophecy succeed, Sarac dies. Besides, Sarac does not have to know who is betraying him. I am sure that you can find a way to release the information without it being tied to me.”

“I will work on it,” agreed Zorn, “but my list of agents in Tagaret is not complete. Is this something you wish me to do personally?”

“No,” responded Hanchi. “You are my link to the outside world. Find someone else who is dependable and loyal to me.”

“Tashlan?” questioned Zorn.

“Tashlan would be good for the job,” nodded Hanchi. “Will the Contest of Power resume to fill the void left by Queen Marta?”

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