The Chronicles of Lumineia: Book 01 - Elseerian (37 page)

Another elf added, "Glyn and Tari are gone, too."

"By Skorn, what happened to them?!" Denithir hissed.

Siarra answered his question in a grim tone, "Death has found us . . . and he's been picking us off one by one."

Fear gripped each member of the group as realization finally dawned. The assassin had hunted them, a highly alert and battle-ready elven patrol, and still managed to kill
nine
of their group without a single person noticing. When had they been taken? Somewhere in the forest? The swamp?

Taryn's spine tingled as he covertly checked the darkness around them, knowing the killer was nearby and probably watching them for another opportunity to strike. He knew exactly what Death would be doing—stalking them and silently taking out anybody that wasn’t being watched, whittling them down to nothing.

Denithir swore under his breath and barked, "Partner up, and don't leave your partner for anything. Taryn and Liri, protect the Oracle. We
cannot
afford to lose her."

The surviving elves began marching again, but their confidence was shaken. A ruthless and deadly killer followed them, and they knew they were no match for him. Each elf huddled next to his partner as if proximity to another person would ward off Death's strike, but their efforts proved to be in vain.

Six more elves disappeared before dawn.

Chapter 23:
The Ravine

Beleaguered and exhausted, the ten survivors finally stopped at the edge of a deep ravine about a mile from Orláknia. Each member of the group had been awake for over eighteen hours, and the constant strain and lack of rest was beginning to take a toll on everyone except Taryn.

"Lucky dwarven dog," Liri grumbled, sitting down in a huff and leaning against a tree in the small stand where they had taken shelter around noon.

He shrugged at her. "It's not my fault I can go longer than you." He'd said it with an attempt at humor despite their grim situation, and Liri smiled weakly in acknowledgement.

Denithir appeared beside him and asked, "Taryn, can you take watch for the afternoon while everyone gets some sleep? I don't think our assassin will attack during daylight, and not here where we could see him coming, but still . . ."

Taryn looked at the elven captain. Denithir’s face was drawn and bathed in a sheen of sweat, but his mouth was set in a firm line to hold his emotions in check. It was a good thing he was managing to hide his despair, or his soldiers would have lost all semblance of courage. It was evident, however, that he keenly felt the death of each member of his command.

He wasn’t the only one.

Over the last week Taryn had gotten to know quite of few of them, Kryll in particular. Now most of them were gone, and their bodies lay somewhere behind them. It made him angry to think of leaving them like that, but Denithir had made the tough decision to keep moving. Now as he looked at the elven captain and Ren behind him, he realized they could both be dead by nightfall, leaving their children fatherless.

It was a life he knew far too well.

Suddenly Taryn realized he hadn’t answered Denithir’s request. "No problem captain," he said with a solemn nod, knowing that he'd been asked because he was the only one capable of remaining alert. Elves were not known for their endurance.

Denithir nodded tiredly and turned away. Watching him go, Taryn again felt the grizzled warrior’s pain. Three quarters of his hand-picked and elite fighters had been killed in a single night by an invisible and far superior hunter, one by one disappearing without a trace. A capable and determined warrior such as Denithir had faced countless desperate fights and still emerged victorious, but this was different. His soldiers were being slaughtered like cattle . . . and he was helpless to save them.

Taryn swallowed the knot in his throat and turned to Liri to ask her a question, but she was already asleep. Her blonde hair hung lightly around her pixie face, which appeared troubled even now. Bending down and gently grasping her shoulders, he moved her off the tree and onto the blanket she'd laid out. Except for a slight twitch she stayed asleep when he gingerly slid his own bedroll under her head for a pillow, brushing her neck in the process. For the first time, she smiled and seemed to be at peace.

Self-conscious at the intimate posture, he rose and scanned the camp. Not a single elf remained awake. Strewn all over the small clearing, their forms appeared as if they had collapsed where they stood, which some of them had.

He sighed and silently circled the perimeter, checking every approach. Their camp sat nestled in a small grouping of oak and fir right next to the Blue Lake with a deep ravine blocking their path west. To the north, the trees grew right to a high cliff that dropped to the lake, sunlight sparkling off its waters as it stretched away into the distance. West of them the ravine had been gouged out by a small but fast-moving river that flowed north. As he passed that side, he glanced down into the deep chasm and could see crashing water racing over large boulders. Looking at the other side, he gauged the distance and wondered if he could make the jump, but it seemed to be outside even his ability. Turning away, he continued his route, not spending much time on the north or west approaches to their hiding place. Both would be difficult to scale and very defensible. South and east were a different story.

The east approach held scattered trees as the ground slowly sloped downward towards the dark forest of Orláknia a few miles away. South, the ground climbed into large hills that he knew contained several human settlements they had passed on their journey to the Oracle's home.

Taryn found a comfortable spot on the southeastern corner of the trees and settled in to wait for dusk, taking the time to plan. Unfortunately the stop could not be avoided, even though he would have preferred to descend the cliff and cross the river during the day. The elves needed to rest, and would not have had the strength to scale a cliff in their current condition. As much as he disliked the proposition, they would have to make the attempt during the early twilight hours and hope to finish before nightfall.

A thought crossed his mind and he circled the camp again. As he came to the western edge, he saw what he'd remembered. Close to the edge of the ravine a huge dead tree about three feet thick reached into the sky. Most of its branches and bark had been broken off, and it had hardened into a pillar of smooth dry wood. Looking back and forth between the tall tree and the expanse to the west, he could tell that it was taller than the ravine was wide. It helped that the base of the tree rested only a few feet from the edge.

Taryn grabbed one of the few remaining branches and tested its strength. Using considerable force, he checked to see if it was rotted and saw that it was not. Satisfied, he held onto the branch and leaned out over the ravine. A few feet down, a small ledge, invisible from above, ran north and south. In both directions it tapered off to a few inches within thirty paces or so.

Leaning back he looked at the tree again and wondered if his plan would work. He would have to cut the tree with his father's sword in such a way that it fell across the ravine and didn’t roll into it. Tricky at best, it would still be worth a try when the time came. Returning to his post, he scanned the approaches but saw no one, so he settled in to wait, circling the camp every few minutes.

*****

The sun had already begun to set when Taryn touched Denithir's shoulder. It was a testament to how tired the captain was that it took two shakes to wake him up, but after the second he rose quickly, automatically buckling on his weapons.

"Rouse Ren and he will get the rest up and going,” Denithir ordered, his voice hoarse as he rubbed the dark rings around his eyes. “I want to be across before it gets dark."

Taryn spoke up. "I might have a better way across—if it works."

Denithir paused and looked at him speculatively for a moment, and then nodded. "Show me, but wake Ren first and have him place a few soldiers to the south and east. I don't want to be surprised."

Taryn woke the small elf and let him know what to do. Within moments Taryn returned to the elven captain's side. "Follow me.”

They came to the dead tree and Taryn explained his plan of forming a bridge, adding, "If it doesn’t work, we are no worse off, and if it does, we can cross and cut it into the ravine. Maybe it will slow the assassin."

A shadow of a smile crossed the elven captain’s face. "Wait until we are ready to leave,” he conceded, “then do it." For the first time the captain seemed to have hope in his eyes as he glanced east. Taryn could almost see him calculating how much time they might gain.

It took only a few minutes to get everyone up and ready. The ten remaining members of the party gathered at the base of the dead tree, still tired, but ready to press forward. Prudently, Denithir still had some of his elves face outwards so as not to be attacked from behind.

Liri brushed Taryn’s arm as he passed her, and he caught her eye. She smiled and raised her eyebrows, mouthing, "Good luck."

Taryn understood she was telling him it was OK if his plan didn’t work, so he smiled back, but he didn’t intend to fail. Standing to the south of the tree, he slowly drew Mazer and raised it high, gauging his strike. Blue flames erupted from the long blade as it swept down and sliced right through the tree from east to west. In a flash he reversed the blade and came again high from the west. Again magic flashed in the twilight sky as the second cut separated a large wedge of wood that slipped out and thudded to the ground, leaving the tree with no support on the ravine side. Wood creaked and groaned in protest as the ancient tree shifted and slid off its base.

The giant wooden pole hung for a long moment until it gained momentum as it fell across the ravine. A loud crack of splitting wood echoed around them as it crashed to the earth with tremendous force, bouncing off the ground before hitting again . . . and slowly starting to roll. In a flash Siarra leapt forward and swept her hand palm up. A column of dirt rose on both sides of the tree, trapping it and holding it fast. She kept her hand palm up for a moment until it stopped quivering.

Suddenly someone let out a breath—then someone else, and then everyone blew out the air they had been holding in.

Denithir shook his head. "Excellent job, Taryn, Siarra. Ren, tie a rope around Liri's waist since she’s the lightest. It might have cracked when it landed and I don’t want someone to fall.”

Taryn's throat tightened as he saw them ready to put her in danger, but the assessment was accurate. If anyone had a chance of making it, Liri, with her light form, did, so he kept his concerns to himself. Once she was ready, two elves anchored the other end of the rope to a tree, and without hesitation she stepped up onto the trunk and began to walk. Inching her way forward, she advanced across the unstable bridge.

She didn’t look down, but her shoulders were so tense they almost shook as she worked her way outward. Without warning the tree began to creak in protest and dipped in the middle, causing her to crouch and wait anxiously. When it didn’t snap she bravely moved forward, slowing even more to negotiate past a long branch that extended straight up. Once clear, she continued until she reached the other side and hopped down, already untying the rope from her waist. With no trees or rocks near enough to tie it to, she let it fall and the elves pulled it back in.

"Oracle, you next," Denithir said.

She nodded and allowed the elves to tie her the same way. Carefully she stepped up onto the smooth wood and began to advance. She reached the straight branch and held onto it for support with her free hand while she leaned out a hundred feet above death and began to edge her way around it.

A sudden flash of movement caught Taryn's eye and he took his eyes off Siarra in time to see a black figure race along the small ledge under the makeshift bridge. Before Taryn could call out a warning, a scythe snapped out and sliced through the earth column holding the tree in place. It instantly crumbled to the ground and the tree began to roll.

Siarra lost her balance and had to desperately grab the branch for support. Without her magic the tree began to roll faster and she almost rolled right off, but she crouched and clung to the branch with all her might as the tree accelerated towards the edge.

Half a second later she would have been thrown to her death, but as the massive tree rolled towards the brink of a hundred foot fall, Taryn leapt forward and planted himself in front of it. It smashed into him and the sound was like wood crashing into stone, but the stone held. Taryn wrapped his arm under the trunk and braced himself against the tremendous weight. Muscles like knotted cords strained against the massive bulk, and sweat immediately began to bead on his forehead. Indeed, Taryn's raised heels actually extended into space while his toes held the bare edge of the cliff.

Death appeared on the northern edge of their circle and his weapon began its grisly work. Two elves went down before anyone could react, and then Ren leapt towards him, calling for aid. Denithir shouted for his remaining soldiers to help Ren while he reached for the rope holding Siarra, but Death was too quick. Rolling around the elves he sliced through the rope before returning to the battle.

"Oracle! Get across!" The elven captain bellowed, watching helplessly as the lifeline fell away into space.

She scrambled to her feet and across the bridge as fast as she could, but ten feet from the other side the unthinkable happened. Taryn slipped an inch. Roaring in rage, he pushed against the tree with all his might and managed to slide it back, far enough for him to regain his footing—but the damage had already been done.

Siarra had misstepped the moment the tree had shifted, and her foot slid right off the smooth wood, sending her body angling out into thin air. This time there was no branch to grab, and she screamed as she began to slide into the ravine. Liri tried to reach her in time but was too slow. . .

—Another figure in black burst into view on the other side of the ravine. Quick as lightning he leapt fifteen feet out and landed in a crouch on the log. The same moment she began to fall, he reached down and caught the Oracle's arm while stabbing a knife into the tree with his free hand. Holding onto the hilt, he managed to slowly drag her back onto the log. As soon as she was safe the two of them sprinted for safety.