Lord's Fall (16 page)

Pia had gone to the window to stare out. The early morning was shrouded in a thick veil of fog. She could barely see the water down below. The only details that she could see when she looked toward the horizon were black tree branches that appeared in the dull white fog like dismembered limbs. She shuddered at the thought.

“Now we figure out how to get some breakfast, and I’ll send a request to speak with Calondir,” Pia said. “Maybe either Ferion or Linwe will show us around like Beluviel suggested. And we wait.”

And as for herself, she would be crossing her fingers that the day did not end badly.

•   •   •

B
reakfast turned out to be a simple and social affair. The same Elf from earlier returned to ask if Pia would like food to be brought up to her apartment, or if she would prefer to come down to the main hall. After washing and dressing in a clean pair of jeans and sweater, Pia was more than ready to leave their rooms.

The main hall was quite large with several tables, a high ceiling, more flagstone floors, two fireplaces at either end that were so massive a grown man could walk into the ash pits, and walls that were mostly windows and that provided more views of the river and the forest. The trees and rocky forest floor were dark with moisture and occasional patches of startling green moss, and tendrils of fog drifted along the foaming water at the foot of the falls.

One of the hallways must lead to the kitchens, for a couple of servers moved back and forth from that direction, carrying full trays of breads, fruits and meat to sideboards that were set against one wall. People ate and talked in clusters, sometimes in English but quite often in their lyrical tongue. Most of those in the hall were Elves, but a smattering of other races were also present: a couple of dwarves, three humans with sparks of Power that identified them as witches, and an elderly male medusa whose head snakes trailed a few inches along the floor.

The atmosphere was relaxed and cordial. Pia and her group served themselves and sat at one end of a long table to eat, nodding and smiling at folks as they returned morning greetings. Calondir, Beluviel and Ferion were all absent, and Pia didn’t think any of the Elves in the hall were from Numenlaur.

For one thing, it looked like people knew each other with the ease of long acquaintance. Also, most of them were dressed in a mix of Elvish and modern American clothing, an unlikely combination for someone from an enclave society. Leggings and sneakers seemed to be a popular combination. A few wore leggings, tall boots, tunics and jeans jackets.

Folks looking street chic,
Eva remarked in her head.
Lookee there. That homeboy got a hoodie.

I have not forgiven you for yesterday,
Pia said.
Just so we’re clear.

That okay, princess. I surviving juuust fine.

Pia’s gaze slid sideways to Eva, whose wide black gaze remained innocent. She compressed her lips. Clearly Eva needed no encouragement, but she might actually get worse if Pia smiled or laughed.

On the captain’s other side, James, Hugh and Miguel discussed the Sentinel Games. Pia realized they were making bets on who would win through to the final seven positions. Johnny ate silently with quick economy while he drummed the table with the fingers of one hand. No doubt he missed his
Angry Birds
.

Then she noticed the top of a blue-tipped head weaving its way through a knot of talking people at the other side of the room. Linwe shouldered between two people and walked toward them.

“Oh look, here she come,” crooned Miguel. “I love that girl. I love her.” As Linwe stopped beside their table, smiling, Miguel said to her, “Please tell me you starred in a spring break video called
Elf Babes Gone Wild
.”

At that both Pia and Eva swiveled to stare at him. Miguel glanced from one unsmiling face to the other. “Come on, I asked her if she was legal,” he said. “She’s thirty.”

Linwe grimaced. “I lied. I’m only sixteen.”

Miguel looked stricken. Eva pointed at him and said, “You gonna get your ass arrested someday. That’s if you lucky, and I don’t beat you to a pulp first.”

Linwe’s bright peal of laughter rang out. Dancing brown eyes met Pia’s.
I am actually thirty, but please don’t tell him,
Linwe said.

I won’t,
Pia promised grimly.
He deserves to sweat a little. I apologize for his behavior.

Please don’t feel that’s necessary,
Linwe said.
I’m at least partway to blame, since I goaded him all day yesterday.
Aloud, the Elf said, “I heard you would enjoy a tour.”

“Yes, please, as long as the High Lord can contact me if he becomes available for an audience,” Pia replied.

“If that happens, a runner will find us.”

“Very well.” Pia stood, and all the others stood too. She said to Miguel, “No.” As his face fell, Pia told Eva, “Two on. You pick.”

“Me and Johnny,” Eva said immediately.

“Fine.” She smiled at Linwe. “Thank you for showing us around.”

“That is entirely my pleasure,” Linwe said.

For the next hour Linwe took Pia on a tour of the heart of Lirithriel Wood, while Eva and Johnny followed silently. The High Lord’s house had four levels, two of them deeply carved into bedrock.

By the time they stepped outdoors the fog had dissipated, leaving behind a gray, overcast day. Underneath the heavy blanket of old-growth trees, the landscape itself was full of curves and ridges like the whorls of a fingerprint or a gnarled tree trunk.

Many other small buildings dotted the area, cleverly hidden in nooks between the trees, and Pia was fascinated to find, there were more of the subtle there/not there Elven faces carved into large boulders. She started to look for them in rocks of any size, but several times they still surprised her, one moment hidden and the next moment coming visible.

Throughout the entire tour Pia could feel the crossover passageway, but either the underlying curl of the land itself or the Wood’s presence kept her from pinpointing where it was until suddenly they came upon it.

Pia jerked to a halt, staring. Behind her, Eva and Johnny had to pull up hard to avoid running into her back.

Just ahead the trees opened up to a small clearing where stairs had been carved into the stony ground, leading downward and reshaping the floor of what must have once been a natural ravine. On the other side of the stairs, the walls had also been shaped and carved with a graceful, interlocking pattern. Even though she was standing several yards away, the Power of the passageway tugged at her.

She said, “I’m amazed the sculptors were able to keep their equilibrium long enough in the passageway to carve anything, let alone something so intricate and beautiful.”

Linwe said cheerfully, “They were old.” She grinned as all three Wyr laughed. “I meant that. Our ancients are very strong in their affinity to the elements.”

“Do you have an affinity to an element?” Pia asked.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. Mine is air.” Pia blinked as a sudden breeze tickled her cheek. Linwe said, “I’m quite young, though, and that’s the extent of what I can do. One of our most Powerful ancients could take that same affinity to air and create a storm the size of Hurricane Rita.” The Elf held up a slim hand. “Not that I’m saying that creating a storm of that size would be a good thing. And one or two of our ancients, the ones who are especially gifted, have an affinity to more than one element. Those tend to be compatible with each other. Fire and air. Water and earth. That sort of thing.”

That was the best conversational opening Pia had seen yet, and she took it. “Speaking of ancients, I hear that Elves from Numenlaur are visiting.”

A shadow darkened Linwe’s animated expression. “Yes, although very few people have seen them. They have been closeted away ever since they arrived. I heard one of them might be ill.”

Whatever Pia might have expected to hear, that wasn’t it. She wasn’t aware Elves could suffer from illness. “I’m sorry.”

Linwe shrugged a slender shoulder. “It’s gossip. I don’t know anything for sure.”

“Do your ancients ever talk about why they warred with each other?” Pia asked.

Johnny and Eva’s silence grew more intense. When she looked over her shoulder, the other two Wyr stood several feet away and appeared to be studying the carved patterns in the passageway.

She could also tell by Linwe’s wide-eyed glance that she had surprised the other woman. “You know of that?”

It was her turn to shrug. How much should she admit to knowing? Keep it simple, stupid. She said, “Dragos is my mate.”

That seemed to have more impact than she had expected. Linwe’s eyes rounded, and she took a deep breath and blew it out so that her blue-tipped bangs bounced in the air. “Yes, of course,” Linwe said. “Then you must know of the Deus Machinae.”

The whosie whatsit?

Pia smiled. She said, “I don’t know the details of the story the way you learned it.”

Either Linwe didn’t notice that Pia was pumping her for information or she didn’t care. The Elf said, “I was taught that there are things on this Earth, Powerful things that were put here by the gods to enact their will. They have had many forms and have been called many names over time, but ever since the time of the classic Greek poets—Horace, Euripides, Aeschylus and such—they have been called the Deus Machinae, or the God Machines.”

Pia shook her head and murmured, “I haven’t had much of a classical education, but wasn’t the deus ex machina a plot device in Greek plays?”

Linwe’s gaze touched hers briefly. “Yes, it literally means the ‘god from the machine.’ Anyway at one point, or so I’ve heard the story go, the Elves had possession of all seven of the Deus Machinae at once, and they agreed this was a significant event. Then they began to argue about which of them was meant to rule and how.”

“I take it that didn’t go so well,” Pia said dryly.

“No, not so well. Some said the one who possessed Taliesin’s Machine was destined to rule, for Taliesin is the god over all the other gods. Others said, no, Inanna, the goddess of Love, should reign supreme. Or perhaps Azrael, the god of Death. Or the bearer of Hyperion’s item, since Law is the cornerstone of any civilization. Whether it was their ambition or the Power of the Machinae themselves, the ancients couldn’t agree. Instead they—we—came to blows. Apparently we nearly destroyed ourselves.”

“Dragos said it caused a diaspora,” she said softly.

Linwe glanced at her. “Yes, those who survived finally came together and made a covenant. They split into seven groups, and each group took an item. Numenlaur was one of them. The other six groups promised to travel far away from each other, so that they would dissipate the Power of the Machinae, and end the war and all the chaos that had come with it. All seven groups were supposed to cast their items into the world, letting the gods’ will work where it would.”

Pia became aware suddenly of a cold, steady wind that blew along the crossover passageway. The wind must have come from the Other land for it smelled strange, and it felt wet and heavy with a sense of snow that the Wood didn’t have on this side of the passage. She shivered, pulled her anorak close and asked, “Did they do it?”

Linwe shook her head. “Nobody knows for sure. Maybe they did. Maybe some of the groups lied and said they did, but instead they kept their items. Or maybe they tried to keep them only to have the Machinae slip out of their grasps, because no one can control the will of the gods. Some of the original groups disappeared, and Numenlaur closed itself off from the rest of the world. All I know is that our High Lord and Lady kept their word.”

Maybe those groups that had disappeared were the precursors to the Light and Dark Fae. Linwe’s faith in her demesne rulers was touching, but Pia couldn’t help but wonder if it was naive. She ducked her head, trying to keep her expression neutral. She asked, “Whose item did Calondir and Beluviel carry away with them?”

“Inanna’s, the goddess of Love,” the Elf said, smiling. “At the time, Inanna’s Machine appeared as a golden chalice that fit into two cupped hands.” She held her hands together to demonstrate the size. “The goddess was depicted as riding a chariot around the bowl, and seven gold lions circled the base.”

“It sounds like it must have been striking.”

“I’ve heard that it was so beautiful, apparently everyone who saw it wanted to drink from it. The High Lord’s group sailed west across the ocean. When they sighted land, everyone in the group drank from the chalice one last time so that they all felt the goddess’s Power, and then he threw it overboard.”

“Dramatic but effective,” Pia murmured, recalling the tapestry with Calondir and a gold cup in their apartment. She wondered which group ended up with Taliesin’s item.

Not only did the convoluted Wood mess with her sense of direction, but with the sky so overcast, she couldn’t guess how much time had passed. She glanced skyward, then at Eva, who said,
Been a couple hours. Hugh should have made it out by now.

Which told Pia exactly nothing. She took a deep breath and tried to ease the tension that had knotted the muscles at the base of her neck. Either shit would hit the fan or it wouldn’t. Apparently that was the story of her day.

Story of her life, come to that.

After thanking Linwe for the tour, Pia chose to go back to their rooms. The others played chess, did sit-ups and push-ups and napped. Johnny coaxed Pia into playing a game of chess too, but she knew little beyond the basic moves and she was too preoccupied to focus well, and he trounced her thoroughly. Afterward she went to her bedroom to pace.

Calondir did not grant her an audience. Neither Beluviel nor Ferion appeared. Pia did not hear anything from Dragos or about him. Beluviel did send a note of apology and promised to see Pia the next day, but other than that nothing at all happened for the rest of the day.

Nothing, nothing, nothing.

NINE

T
he group had lunch brought up to them and by evening Pia couldn’t stand the sight of the apartment any longer.