The Revenge of the Elves (32 page)

Chapter Forty-five

They’re still as beautiful as ever.
The scars had healed. At least most of them had. The trees and shrubs of Lormarion had already concealed the worst damage from Colton’s attack. The massive Nobans stood strong and proud, supporting the city perched on top of them. Liam brushed the dirt from his arms. It was a long, hard journey.
Quickly. Quickly.
He looked up, impatient.

The seals high overhead hissed open and a face appeared, peering down at him.

“Liam, Chosen of Oleander,” he cast his voice above. He knew the procedure.

He stepped to the side as the platform descended. A single guard in civilian clothes stood upon it with his bow drawn and ready, aimed at Liam’s heart.

Still nervous
, he thought. This used to be an open city. No more. Liam stepped onto the lift and grabbed the railing surrounding it. The guard returned the arrow to his quiver and shouldered his bow. The platform rose up and off the ground. At the top, the guard jumped down and joined another armed civilian waiting for them. Together they sealed the lift shut.

The guard posts are empty here
, he noticed right away. He looked around the landing.
The others as well.
“Will you inform the King and Queen I wish an audience with them?” Liam asked.
Where are the soldiers?

“They have already been apprised of your entry,” the man replied. “Follow me, please.”

Liam followed the guard across the broad expanse of smooth wood.
What a sight
, he admired it still. The city was incredible! He took in a deep breath of the thin, fresh air. They walked past the staging areas and docking stations that surrounded the lifts until they reached the pedestrian pathway leading to the heart of the city. Though hundreds of feet in the air, the surface felt as solid to him as rock.

The palace’s carved Noban doors were open and people milled about everywhere. They went about their business and didn’t question a Chosen’s presence among them. The guard led him to the entrance, just as Queen Elsinestra appeared in the doorway.

“Liam. Welcome.” She extended her arm to him. “It’s been a while since you were last here,” she said. She tried to conceal her consternation at his unexpected visit but he knew he’d caught her off guard.

“Too long.”
Her eyes are sad.

“I assume it’s not pleasure that brings you here?” She looked past him, searching for something, someone.

“None of us have the freedom anymore to travel for pleasure,” he nodded.

“We’ve hidden our wounds well, have we not?” She forced a smile. “My husband was determined to wipe out all traces of the Dark One’s assault as completely as he could.”

“And indeed he has,” Liam replied. “The Chamber of the Stars appears no different than ever.” Remarkable considering it had been shattered during the battle.

“Yes. It looks the same as it always did. But the scars remain beneath the surface, even though they may not be visible.”

The scars on you are not so well hidden
, he thought.

“Let’s join Treestar. He awaits us above.” She put her arm in his, led him across the hall and up the far stairway. When they reached the winding stairs to the Tower she stopped and turned to face him. “He is not the same,” she warned.

And neither are you.
They climbed the three hundred steps to the top. The final door had no sentry guarding it.
Strange. Where are they all?

They entered the Chamber of the Stars. The shutters were down and the room was exposed to the afternoon sun. He could see for miles and miles in all directions. A simple plaque was set into the floor near his feet. ‘Adain the courageous’ it read.

“He was,” Elsinestra said over his shoulder.

“Speak no further of death today,” Treestar’s voice boomed from the other side of the room. He walked over to them. “Welcome to Seramour, Liam.”

His shoulders were hunched and his voice had an edge to it that had never been present before.
She’s right. He’s not the same… No one’s the same.
“Thank you. It’s good to see you. You look well,” he lied.

“I am. Our people are resilient. The city is almost as good as new.” They grasped each other’s hands.

His grip is not as strong. He’s suffered more than I expected.
Liam felt the blood pumping in the King’s palm. It quickened as he began to speak.

“The Dark One has begun another campaign,” Treestar said.

He turned and walked to the south railing. “We have sent our armies to the aid of the Baron in Tamarand.”

Liam nodded.
That explains the absence of uniforms.

“You noticed,” Treestar stated. He did not ask.

“Yes,” he answered. “Calipee will need all the support he can gather. I watched the soldiers march from Sedahar. His forces are formidable.”
I must ask. I need to know.
“Tell me Treestar, have your people recovered from the assault as you would have hoped?”

“That’s an odd question, Chosen,” Elsinestra intervened. “What exactly do you mean?”

She can still read me. Good.
“As more of the trees depart, it gets harder and harder to recover. A great malaise has been affecting so many. I see it, we see it, on our travels. It’s dangerous. The spirit weakens when it must remain strong.”

“We have managed to keep our’s high,” Treestar replied. “We have no Lalas in Lormarion, as you know Liam.” His voice trailed off. His mind was elsewhere.

“So you cannot suffer one’s loss as the others do?” Liam finished his thought.

“Not in the same way. But we rejoice at the news of the youngling in Pardatha,” Elsinestra’s eyes brightened for the first time since he arrived.

Can you rejoice at one and not despair at the other?
Liam leaned against the rail and let the fresh air blow across his back. He probed the King.
His mind is not sharp. He is no longer whole.

“Do not misunderstand my wife’s sentiments, Liam. This is what we choose to do,” Treestar replied, an innocent smile upon his face.

“It’s this ability that moved me to seek your counsel once again,” he said.
And you still have it Elsinestra, thank the First.

“Go on?” Elsinestra urged him.

Liam walked across the Chamber nearer to the two of them. “There is a Lalas close to the Baron’s city; Robyn dar Tamarand’s bondmate, Promanthea. Colton seems not to care that he has sent his forces against such a foe. Never before has he directly challenged a Lalas. It’s a bold move and it’s caused us to question his intentions.”
I should not frighten them. They’ve been through so much already.
“We assume he hopes to draw Robyn out of hiding and push him into revealing himself, thus exposing the heir. Or to have him abandon the heir and the Quest and rally to the defense of his homeland, his father and his bondmate. Whatever decisions Robyn makes, he will suffer from.”
I must ask her.

“He will never abandon the heir.” Elsinestra’s mouth grew tight. “I have been with them both. He would die before he would jeopardize the boy.” Her eyes studied Liam’s as she spoke.

“He is not the kind to place his personal interests above those of the greater good,” the King agreed. Treestar’s fingers fumbled with his beard. His answers were stiff, unfocused. He chose the right words but the emotion behind them was wrong.

She sees. She understands.
“We should be inured to such choices. The Chosen have always protected the many without thought for themselves.”
We have always had the bond.
“But we have never been asked to choose between our bondmates and anything else.”
We are being asked to choose in more ways than this.
“It’s unprecedented, and the Dark One knows it. If he attacks Promanthea, Robyn will have to respond somehow.”

“What a terrible choice.” Elsinestra winced, but her eyes remained fixed on Liam.

“It’s far worse than you imagine,” Liam said. Alliances were forming that could never have been contemplated before. Secrets were being told. The balance was shifting. “We have been meeting behind the backs of our Lalas.”
She didn’t flinch.
“Only a few beside the Chosen know of this.”

“Behind the backs of the trees?” Treestar didn’t understand. He brushed Elsinestra’s arm with his hand. “To what end?” Anger flared behind his eyes and she stroked his skin until it abated.

“The bond is fragile?” she asked.

She feels it. She senses it. But he is not the same.
“We have discussed the possibility of breaking it.”
Oleander… forgive me?

Treestar drew back and bowed his head. “Breaking the bond,” he repeated. He looked confused.

“Why have you come to us?” Elsinestra asked. “What can we do?” Her eyes reached out to him. Stoic. Strong.

“You said you have learned to live without them. That you’ve learned to overcome the pain when one departs.” He turned his back on them. “Teach me.”
I can’t look at her. How can I think these things? Oleander…
He felt her hand on his shoulder. She’s a healer. She has power. He reached back and clasped it. “Robyn must live. He is vital to the heir and to the Quest. If it comes to this, if Colton attacks Promanthea, he must survive.”
Even if Promanthea should not.
The thought was inconceivable until now.
And me? Am I just a coward?

“Are you speaking only on his behalf?” Elsinestra asked.

She senses it.
He turned and met her eyes. “No. My own as well.”
She knew already. But the King? His mind is not sharp. His wounds are deeper than I suspected.

“The bond cannot be broken!” Treestar declared. He didn’t realize what Liam was saying.

“I was hoping you could help us answer this, my Lady,” Liam replied, his gaze fixed upon her.

A small bird dropped sharply from the sky and landed on a perch projecting from the rail. Birds came and went frequently in Seramour, so this wasn’t unusual. The city was high in the clouds and it was a natural means of communication. Elsinestra bred her own and knew them all well, but this one was unfamiliar to her.

She walked to it and stroked its back feathers. It lifted its tail in response. A rolled parchment was attached to its leg. She removed it and spread it on her palm. “The bird’s from Tallon.” Her body tensed. “We receive little news from them.” She held it in the light.

“Tallon?” Treestar was alarmed. “Are they in danger there too?”

“They’re protected by the waters,” Elsinestra replied, but her voice lacked its usual conviction.

“If Tallon is now unsafe….” the King mumbled. He didn’t need to finish his thought. They all knew the implications.

The note was spellbound, safe from prying eyes. Elsinestra ran her finger over it and determined its nature. It was meant for her. She said a few words and pressed the paper into her palm. The heat built up right away and the words appeared. She read aloud,
“‘Fallean’s in Tallon. He’ll be leaving soon for Seramour after he visits the wells. He travels with his cousin, Princess Lana and a protector.’“
The paper fluttered to the floor. “The wells. Fallean will go into the wells.” She frowned. This was unwelcome news. “He is not a healer.”

Treestar bent down and picked it up. He turned it over in his hand as if he were looking for something more from it. “The waters are potent. Why would they ask him?” His fingers trembled as he held the paper and he looked to Elsinestra for an answer.

“What does Windstorm know of the wells? Perhaps he suggested it,” Liam asked.
The wells of Tallon? The need must be dire to send someone down who is not adept. The song is still strong? I must speak with Fallean as soon as he returns.

“My brother knows nothing of Tallon. They live in their own world. Merala da is not involved in our troubles,” Treestar grumbled.

“If they accept him, he may bring us valuable news,” Liam said.
And if they do not…

“Fallean would not attempt this if he wasn’t compelled to do so for some reason. He knows better. The wells are not unfamiliar to him.” She forced a smile and glanced at her husband. “He is my son. The wells will receive him.” Her eyes flashed at Liam and spoke different words.

“Hmmm,” Treestar mumbled, still turning the paper over in his hands. “Yes, they will accept him.”

“May I see it?” Liam asked. Treestar handed it to him.

“It was written seven days ago,” Liam said. “This paper is made from wood. It speaks words to me other than those it speaks to you,” he explained.
But not enough. Not nearly enough.

“So they could be here soon,” Elsinestra smoothed her skirts and looked to the sky. “My son…”

“Yes, quite soon,” Liam replied.
And he’ll be unhappy when he sees his father. He’s still young. He will take this hard.

“I will advise the men guarding the lifts. Should he arrive shortly, they must hasten his entry and bring him to me immediately.” Her face showed no emotion.

She knows the risks. She hides her concern for Treestar’s sake. The boy will want revenge. He was absent for the battle, his cousin’s death, and now his father…

“I will go to the library and seek the answers you desire while we await his arrival. The Tomes speak of the bond. I need to study the passages.” She turned to Treestar. “You should rest now,” she said, reaching over to smooth his hair. “Let me call someone to assist you.” She pulled a silk tassel hanging by the door. Treestar stood staring into the sky. “Will you join me Liam? I would like that,” she asked, her voice calm. Too calm.

“Of course,” he replied.

Chapter Forty-six

Her heart skipped. A ward flared. For a moment she imagined she saw the Darkening spreading its fingers toward her, stroking her, taunting her with its sybaritic power. She fought the impulse to think about it, but just as Harlan was lured by his addiction, so too was she drawn by Colton’s power, no matter how subliminal the urge or how slight. Right now, her shields were firm. She learned fast. Necessity. From now on they’d always be up. She could never relax again.

She’d entered the darkness once already and tasted of its evil, but while she was within it, she also felt the yearning for relief that he sought, however misguided. In fear, she slammed shut the doors of her heart and stamped out the ember of sympathy his seductive and insidious evil threatened to ignite inside of her. She recognized it for what it was. Subterfuge, sham, seduction. A cold chill coursed through her body and she turned and joined the others.

“What could it mean?” Tamara asked. She took a bite of the stale bread Conrad handed her and drank from the near empty flask. “We’re just about out of the woods. If someone wanted to frighten us, they would have been smarter doing it while we were still in the forest.”

“It’s not meant for us,” Harlan said. He bent over and examined the signs etched into the top of the tree stump. “This was left as a warning for someone else; someone who was entering here, not leaving.”

“Look at the angle of the carvings,” Conrad agreed. “We could barely see them from the direction we were coming. But when you walk around to this side…” He frowned. “Harlan’s right.” He ran his thumb over the letters and leaned in close. Something drew his eye to the bottom. He turned his body and blocked her view. “So much we can, so much we can’t. We all return to dust,” he mumbled.

She heard him reading.
Where’s that from? A poem? The line’s familiar.
“Why warn someone of what’s ahead if you’re not interested in protecting them?” Tamara was unsatisfied.
What’s he looking at?
“That’s not something Colton would do. He’d lure them in, try to trap them. Maybe there are others who still desire to help. Someone else knows of the Darkening. Someone else has been here.” She looked at Harlan. He had insisted no one had entered the woods for ages before them.

“Maybe it’s been left here by someone who’s neither a friend nor a foe,” Conrad said.

Neither friend nor foe? Of whose? Ours? The trees? The Darkening? Tell me, Conrad.
She looked at him but he avoided her eyes once more.

“I never saw anyone else. And I never saw this,” Harlan insisted, pointing to the carving.

“Unless I had to keep going, if I read this I’d turn back too,” Conrad said, ignoring Harlan. “What fool doesn’t heed a warning? It’s enough for me.”

“Who would know of this abomination in the forest and not tell someone? Why leave only this here?” She wondered if they already knew in Parth, if the sisters were involved. That thought comforted her. But what could they do, she wondered as well.
No. They wouldn’t use words like these. It can’t be them. Who then?

“Whoever left this warning here didn’t intend it for us.” He pulled on Tamara’s arm. “Let’s go. We’re wasting time.”

Warn someone. Scare them. Why?
This made no sense to her. “Someone wants to keep people out for a reason.” She pulled away from Conrad’s touch. “The words aren’t right. If it’s a warning, why threaten? If it’s meant to be helpful, then the tone is wrong.”
Someone doesn’t want the Darkening to be found. But why? Who?

“What good will it do us to figure this out? We know what’s here,” his eyes dimmed. “Let’s go,” he urged her again and he wouldn’t meet her stare.

He’s keeping something from me. He suspects something.
She didn’t have a chance to question him. Harlan intervened. “Oh no you don’t!” Tamara shouted at him. “You come with me now!” She reached out and grabbed the back of his tattered coat as he turned to sneak away.

“I just wanted to pick up a few more nuts before we left the forest,” he confessed. “I can smell some just a little ways back…”

“I told you I can help you. I wish you would start believing me already. I’m not a nursemaid, Harlan!” Tamara said, leading him by the arm.
Until you’re free of this, I can’t trust you.

“Okay,” Harlan bowed his head and sat down, slumping forward.

“Give me a few minutes to find what I need. The woods here are teeming with wormwood. I can smell it.” Her nostrils flared. “It’s not a rare herb.” She looked around. “It’s a perennial but it blooms late so I should have no problem finding the flowers I need. It doesn’t tolerate much sunlight and it prefers warmth to cold, so this is the perfect setting for it to grow in,” Tamara explained.
He knows more about the Darkening than anyone. I need him in Parth.
The Tower was too close to here, too much of a coincidence. She couldn’t let it spread without warning them.
Maybe they’ll know how to stop it. Bethany? The sisters can help. Emmeline, Gretchen. They’re strong.

“Can’t we do this later?” Conrad grimaced. “Don’t you have this herb in the Tower gardens?”

“It won’t take long. I’m sure what I need is nearby.” She raised her nose to the air and sniffed.
I won’t take him along without it. He’ll keep lying. The addiction’s too strong. The longer he’s without the drug, the more dangerous he’ll be for us.
Conrad paced the forest floor.
He was nervous. Too nervous. What else is bothering him?
she wondered.

“I smell only the nuts.” Harlan crossed and uncrossed his legs and shifted his weight from hip to hip. He kept looking over his shoulder into the woods.

“Watch him closely,” she whispered in Conrad’s ear. “I’ll be right back.”

Tamara rummaged through the low brush surrounding the area. As she expected, she spotted the flowering stem rising about two and a half feet in the air, and covered in whitish, silky hairs. Grabbing it, she broke it just above the lower leafy portion and stuffed the greenish-yellow flowers from the stalk along with the buds into a pouch. Wormwood was a root plant, and she knew if she found one, she’d find many. Shortly, her pouch was full.

Conrad’s face relaxed as soon as she returned. He sat a few feet from Harlan, tapping his foot. Harlan’s eyes darted from side to side and he wrung his hands. His mouth moved but no words came out. He was talking to himself.

Tamara joined them. She gathered a small pile of dry twigs together and sat down next to Harlan. The twigs smoldered as she stared at them and then burst into flame. She strung a green vine from the moist ground between two forked branches on either side of the fire, and hung the flowers she collected on it.

“Hold on, Harlan,” she patted his hand. “It won’t be long now.”

The heat of her fire was much more intense than its size would have indicated, and the flowers dried quickly. Coupled with the concentrated rays of the sun, it wasn’t long before she began to pick them off the vine. One by one, she ground them into a fine powder upon a flat rock nearby. Tamara scraped the potent absinthol found in the flowers back into her pouch and stood up.

The pouch with the herbs swung with the motion of her hip and touched the other pouch holding the shard. A feeling like static rippled through her body. She grabbed the pouch with the shard.
Hot. Wrong. Something’s wrong.
An image flashed through her mind’s eye, an image of the Darkening and of Harlan’s face contorted in pain or anger, she was unsure. He held a dagger against someone’s back. It was a woman. Dark hair was tied in a knot at the base of her neck, and her clothing was made of rough leather.
I know her. Never seen her but I know her.
She turned. The face was Conrad’s.

Her vision cleared. Conrad stood beside her, staring at her. Her eyes flashed at Harlan. She couldn’t quell her anger. “I need to boil some water. Put a pot on the fire Harlan,” she ordered and he complied. “Darn. This isn’t hot enough,” she snarled as the water steamed. She raised her finger and twirled it near the flame. A blue-white light jumped from the embers and engulfed the whole pot.

“What’s going on?” Conrad whispered into her ear.

“Keep your eye on him!” was all she said. She filled a piece of oilskin with the boiling water and mixed it with some of the powder from her pouch. Her fingers fumbled with the strings. “Darn it,” she swore again. The bitter odor rose up around them. “I need some wine. Pour some here,” she snapped at Conrad, her movements sharp and swift. “Come, Harlan. Drink this now.” She watched him like a cat until he drained the skin. “I’ve enough herbs for a few days.” She grabbed the skin from his hands. “Now let’s go. We’ve wasted enough time.” She gathered the few things still on the ground. “Quickly!” she insisted and she shoved Harlan toward the path.

As they scurried away, she glanced back into the woods. Without stopping, she drew her finger across the horizon from left to right. The earth stirred and the debris swirled, concealing the evidence of their presence from prying eyes.