The Emerald Storm (31 page)

“That is what killed Fan Irlanu,” Zulron told them. “Or at the very least has driven her insane.”

“What!” Hadrian exclaimed.

“It’s not possible to use the sight on an elf. The lack of a soul offers up only infinity. For her it was like walking off a bottomless cliff. If she lives, she will never be the same.”

“You’re the village healer. Shouldn’t you be trying to help her?”

“He wants her dead,” Royce finally spoke. Then looking at Zulron added, “You knew.”

“What did he know?” Bulard asked, tense but fascinated. Grady and Derning also leaned forward.

“You knew I was elven, didn’t you? But you told her—no—coerced her to do a reading,” Royce said.

Outside there were sounds of commotion, running feet and raised voices. Hadrian heard Wesley saying something over the heated shouts of Tenkins.

“Why did you want her dead?”

“I did nothing. You are the one that killed her. And killing a member of the village, especially a seer, is an unpardonable crime. The punishment is death.” Zulron gave a smile before stepping outside.

The rest of them followed to find a gathering crowd.

“There he is!” Thranic shouted the moment Royce stepped out of the tree. He pointed and said, “There’s your
elf
! I warned you about him.”

“He has slain our seer, Fan Irlanu!” Zulron announced, and repeated it in Tenkin.

Burandu, Wesley, and Wyatt pushed their way through the mob.

“Is this true?” Wesley asked quickly, his voice nervous.

“Which?” Royce asked.

“Are you an elf, and did you just kill Fan Irlanu?”

“Yes, and I’m not sure.”

The crowd grew and Hadrian could pick out words such as
justice
,
revenge
and
kill
among the many Tenkin shouts.

“By Mar, man!” Wesley said fiercely but quietly to Royce. “What is it with you? I should let you hang just for the amount of trouble you’ve caused.” He took a breath. The crowd pressed in and lightning flashed overhead while thunder boomed. “What do you mean when you say you’re not sure?” Wesley asked. He was speaking quickly, wiping the rain from his face.

“The murderer must pay for his crime, Burandu,”
Zulron declared in Tenkin.
“His soullessness has killed our beloved Fan Irlanu. The law demands justice!”

“Where is Joqdan?”
Burandu asked.

“Paying his last respects to his dead would-be wife. If he
was
here, he would agree.”

“He lies! Zulron is to blame,” Hadrian spoke in Tenkin, which drew a surprised look from everyone.

“What are they saying?” Wesley asked Hadrian.

“The oberdaza is pushing for our deaths and Burandu is buying it.”

“Bring them all!”
Burandu shouted.

The warriors of the village descended and Hadrian considered for a moment whether he should draw his swords, but decided against it. He shot a look at Royce to indicate he should not resist.

They were driven to the village center, where Dilladrum was shouting, “Let go of me! What are you doing?” When he saw Wesley he asked, “What did you do? I told you not to offend them!”

“We didn’t offend them,” Hadrian explained. “We killed their beloved seer.”

“What!” Dilladrum looked as if he was about to faint.

“Actually, it is a misunderstanding, but I’m not sure we’ll get the chance to explain,” Wesley put in.

“At least Thranic will die with us,” Royce said loud enough for the sentinel to hear.

“A martyr’s death is a fair price to rid the world of you and your kind.”

Lightning flashed again, revealing the pallid faces of the crew in its stark light.

Grady was shoved to the ground and reached for his sword>

“Grady, don’t!” Hadrian said.

“That’s right,” Wesley shouted. “No one draw weapons. They’ll slaughter us.”

“They will anyway,” Derning replied.

Poe and Hadrian pulled Grady back to his feet. All around them, the ring of warriors formed a wall, behind which churned a crowd of shouting faces and raised fists. The rain-drenched mob pushed and cried its words lost in a roar of hatred. Lightning flashed once more, and a single voice rang out, “
You knew!
”

Instantly the crowd fell silent and parted. Only the pour of rain disturbed the stillness as Fan Irlanu entered the circle, Joqdan at her side carried a deadly-looking spear, his eyes grim and focused on Zulron.

“Burandu, it is not the strangers fault. It
was
Zulron who asked that I do the reading. He knew this one had elven blood. But I am still alive!”

“But—no…how could you…” Zulron stammered.

“He is not an Old One,”
Fan Irlanu said.
“He is a kaz! There is humanity in him—footholds, Zulron, footholds!”

“What’s going on?” Wesley asked Hadrian. “Isn’t she the one Royce killed? What’s she saying?”

“She seems a might upset,” Grady said.

“But not at Royce,” Poe remarked.

“Who then?” Grady asked.

“Zulron has tried to kill me. I have known for some time his ambitions were great. I saw the treachery in his heart, but I n
ever
expected he would go so far.”

“Joqdan, what say you. Is what Fan Irlanu says true?” Burandu addressed his warlord.

Joqdan thrust his spear into the chest of Zulron.

The long blade passed fully through the oberdaza’s body. Those nearby jostled backward, everyone moving away. Joqdan advanced the length of his spear’s shaft and gripped Zulron by the throat. Holding him with strong arms, he spat in the witchdoctor’s face. The light faded from the oberdaza’s eyes, and Joqdan withdrew his spear as Zulron fell dead.

“I think that answers your question,” Poe remarked.

Burandu looked down at the body, then up at Joqdan, and nodded.
“Joqdan is n
ever
wrong. I am pleased you are safe, Fan Irlanu,”
he said to her. Then the Elder addressed Wesley and the others. “Forgive dee dishonor of evil Zulron. Judge us not by ’is actions. You too ’ave such men in your vorld, eh?”

Wesley glanced at Thranic and Royce.

Burandu shouted to his warriors and they dispersed the crowd. Many paused to kiss Fan Irlanu who stood weakly, leaning against Joqdan. She offered a strained smile, but Hadrian could see the paleness of her face and the effort in her breathing.

The Elder spoke briefly with Joqdan and Fan Irlanu, then Joqdan lifted the seer once more and carried her to one of the smaller dwellings. Zulron’s body was dragged away and with him went most of the Tenkins.

“That’s it?” Grady asked.

“Wait,” Dilladrum said as the leopard-skinned man approached. They spoke for a moment then Dilladrum returned. “The village of Oudorro asks our forgiveness for the misunderstanding and begs the honor to continue as our host.”

They looked at one another skeptically.

“They are sincere.”

Wesley sighed and nodded. “Thank them for their kindness, but we will be leaving in the morning.”

“Kindness?” Derning muttered. “They nearly skinned us alive. We should get out now while we can.”

“I see no advantage in venturing into these jungles at night,” Wesley affirmed. “We will leave at first light.”

“And what about Melborn?” Thranic hissed.

“You, Doctor Levy, and Seamen Blackwater and Melborn will come with me. The rest I order to quarters to get as much sleep as possible.”

A young Tenkin trotted up to them and spoke to Dilladrum, his eyes watching Royce.

“What is it?” Wesley asked.

“Fan Irlanu has requested Royce and Hadrian.”

Fan Irlanu lay on a bed beneath a thin white sheet, as a young girl patted her forehead with a damp cloth rinsed repeatedly in a shallow basin. Joqdan remained at her side. His great spear, still covered in Zulron’s blood, stood by the door.

“Is she really all right?” Hadrian asked.

“I vill be fine,” Fan Irlanu replied. “Et vas a terrible shock. Et vill take time.”

“I’m sorry,” Royce offered.

“I know,” she told him. Her face was sympathetic to the point of sadness. “I
know
you are.”

“You saw something?”

“Vere I to touch Joqdan’s ’and vis dee tulan smoke in me, I could tell us vaat ’e ate for dee midday meal yesterday and vaat ’e vill eat tomorrow. If I touched Galenti’s ’and, I could name dee woman ’e vill marry and ou vill outlive dee other. I could also tell dee precise events dat vill surround ’is death. So clear ez my sight dat I can see a life in detail, but not you. You are a mystery, a cloud. Looking into you ez like seeing a mountain range in a thick fog—I can only see dee ’igh points vis no means of connecting dem. You are
kaz
in dee Ghazel tongue—in your language a
mir
, yes?—a mix of ’uman and elven blood. This gives you a long life.” She paused to gather some strength and Joqdan’s brow furrowed further.

“Imagine looking down a road, you see most dings clearly, dee trees, dee rocks, dee leaves. But vis you, et ez as if I am standing ’igh in dee air staring out at dee ’orizon—very few details. My sight can only span so far and dat does not include dee lifespan of a
kaz
. Dere ez too much.”

“But you saw something.”

“I saw many dings. Too many,” she told him. Her eyes were soft and comforting.

“Tell me,” Royce said. “Please, I know a woman. She is very much like you, but something troubles her. She won’t speak of it, and I think she has seen things like you have—things that trouble her.”

“She ez Tenkin?”

“I’m not sure, but she bears the same mark as you.”

Fan Irlanu nodded. “I sent for you because of vaat I saw. I vill tell you vaat I know and den I must rest. I may sleep for a long time, and Joqdan vill not allow any to disturb me. So, I must speak now. I am certain I vill not see you again. As I said, I saw much, but understood little—too much distance, too much time. Most are vague feelings dat are ’ard to put in words, but vaat I sensed was powerful.”

Royce nodded.

She paused a moment, thinking, then said, “Darkness surrounds you, death ez everywhere, et stalks you, hunts you and you feed upon et—blood begets blood—dee darkness consumes you. In dis darkness, I saw two lights beside you. One vill blow out and in dat same breeze, dee other flickers, but et must not go out. You must protect dee flame against dee storm.

“I saw a secret—et ez ah…et ez ’idden. Et ez covered, dis great treasure. A man ’ides et, but a woman knows—she alone knows and so she prepares. She speaks in riddles dat vill be revealed—profound truths disguised for now. You vill remember veen dee time comes, dee path laid out for you—in dee dark.”

Joqdan spoke something in Tenkin, but Fan Irlanu shook her head and pushed on.

“I saw a great journey. Ten upon dee road, she ou vears dee light vill lead dee vay. Dee road goes deep into dee earth, and into despair. Dee voices of dee dead guide your steps. You walk back in time. Dee three ’zousand year battle begins again. Cold grips dee vorld, death comes to all and a choice ez before you. You alone stand in dee balance, your veight vill tilt dee scales, but to vich side is unclear. You must choose between darkness and light, and your choice vill affect many.” She paused, shaking her head slowly. “Like trees in a forest, like blades of grass—too many to count. And I fear dat in dee end you vill choose dee darkness and turn your back to dee light.”

“You said
she
,” Royce questioned. “Who did you mean? Is it Gwen?”

“I do not know names. Dey are mere feelings, glimpses of a dream.”

“What is this secret?”

“I do not know, it ez ’idden.”

“When you say there are two lights and one blows out, does that mean someone will die?”

She nodded. “I dink so—yes, et felt dat vay. I sensed a loss, so great I still feel et.” She reached out and touched Royce’s hand and a tear slipped down her cheek. “Your road ez one of great anguish.”

Royce said nothing for a moment, then asked, “What is this great journey?”

She shook her head. “I vish I knew more. Your life—your whole life ’as been pain and so much more lies ahead. I am sorry, but I cannot tell you more dan dat.”

“She rests now,” Joqdan told them. From his firm tone they knew it was time to go.

They walked out of the hut and found Wyatt watching out for them.

“Waiting up?” Hadrian asked.

“Didn’t want you to step into the wrong hut by accident.” He gave a wink.

“The rest bunked down?”

He nodded. “So, you’re an elf,” Wyatt said to Royce. “That explains a lot. What did the lady want?”

“To tell me my future.”

“Good news?”

“It nearly killed her. What do you think?”

Thranic was furious. Wesley refused to take any action against Royce, and
the sentinel railed that under imperial law all elves were subject to arrest. Wesley had little choice but to acknowledge this, but added that given their circumstances, he had neither a prison nor chains. He also pointed out that they were not within the bounds of the New Empire, and until they were he was the sole judge of the law.

“It is my duty to see this mission to completion,” Wesley told the sentinel. “A bound man will only be a hindrance to this effort, particularly when he is injured and exhibits no desire to flee.”

Royce watched all this with an expression of mild amusement. Thranic went on relentlessly, until finally Wesley gave in and approached Royce. “Will you give me your word you will not attempt to escape me or Sentinel Thranic before this mission is over?”

“On my word, sir,” Royce replied. “There is nothing that could make me willingly leave Sentinel Thranic’s side.”

“There you have it,” Wesley concluded, satisfied.

“He is an elf! What good is the word of an elf?” As Thranic straightened and rose above Wesley the look on his face caused the young captain to take a step back. “As Sentinel of Erivan Affairs, appointed by the Patriarch, it is my duty to purge the empire of their foul influence. I demand you place the elf under my authority at once!”