The Revenge of the Elves (37 page)

Chapter Fifty-five

Elsinestra sat before her library desk, lost in contemplation. The Tomes were open before her. Ribbons of many colors marked page upon page containing passages she’d review in detail later. She forced herself to focus. So much was vying for her attention. Treestar’s failing health, Fallean’s descent into the waters of Tallon, the safety of their soldiers in far off Tamarand. She read the great books often for wisdom, for lore, and for spiritual enlightenment, but this time what she sought could alter the path of the world.

She rubbed her eyes. The print was so small.
I’ve passed over something. I can feel it.
She rested her chin in her hands.
So many passages. What am I missing?

She returned her gaze to the book. Nothing spoke directly about breaking the bond between a Lalas and its Chosen. She turned the pages, skimming for words.

When a tree dies, so does its Chosen. When a Chosen dies, the Lalas lives on. But the bond’s been broken. They live long lives, but one could die prematurely.
She flipped a page over. There must be some references to this.

She browsed the passages devoted to the Chosen whose lives were terminated for one reason or another. Luxian and Dracon, Serena and Patiar, Fiama and Tessera, Petre and Bakara… there were many throughout history. None were relevant. None said anything about a willful severing.

Her mind wandered. She thought of Robyn and Promanthea, the tragedy of his choice.
He must know of the threat to his tree by now. How difficult for him.
Carelessly, she thumbed through the pages.
Liam is right, Robyn must survive, even if Promanthea is attacked, even if he should die, may the First help us all.

She turned another page, but she was no longer paying attention.
Fallean
, she pictured his face, his mannerisms.
Are you safe? Will the Lalas accept you?
None of her sons knew what was happening to their father, how ill he was becoming. None knew what she suspected, that his mind was going. None were home.
Dalloway? Elion? When will I see you again? It was your choice to leave. All of you.
She stopped her reverie. It struck her.
Choice! That’s it! I’m looking for the wrong words.
She flipped the pages quickly, one after another.
Ah! Here…
she read the poem.

‘Tis choice that often determines fate,

can it ever be too little or too late?

Though this may sound much like contradiction,

the truth is a blend of fact and fiction.

When life withdraws or is taken away,

When eternal night steals the light from the day,

When what was once shall ne’er be again,

When a prodigious age comes to an untimely end,

Not all must concede,

Not all must die,

Not all must retreat,

Not all must abide.

‘Tis possible to forge a new path in the dark,

to set aflame a light by which to embark,

To choose or be chosen,

To persist or to change,

when the old cannot stay

yet one half still remains.

Must the shadow of darkness devour them both?

When its time has elapsed,

When its moment has passed,

When the reasons for staying or perishing fast

have died with the victim,

abandoned at last.

‘If you cannot prevail here, must I depart too?’

Is that the question he is asking of you?

“Yes! Yes it is!” Elsinestra said aloud.
Finally a passage that speaks to the issue.
She reread the poem.
The reasons for staying or for perishing have died with the victim! How much clearer could it be? One half still remains. The Chosen can live on. That’s what it’s saying.
She closed her eyes.
But he must make that choice without lingering too long.

She committed it to memory and slammed the book shut.
I’ve got to find Liam.
She grabbed her cape, flung it over her shoulders and ran for the exit.

Across the hallway, through the far door, down the winding steps, over the landing, she raced for the Chamber of the Stars. The double doors were open and she ran through. People milled about the hall and she hurried by.

“Prince Fallean!” she heard someone say.

She hurried past him.

“Prince Fallean is back,” another said.

My son?
Her pulse quickened.
Fallean?
“Where is he?” she asked a woman whom she recognized in the crowd. “Did you see him?”

“Yes, your Highness. They escorted him to the Chamber above.”

The experienced guards were all in Tamarand.
They forgot to come and get her. They didn’t know I was in the library
, she thought.

“And my niece? Was she with him?”

“There was no one with your son. He was alone,” the woman answered.

“No bodyguard?”

“No. Just him,” she replied.

Alone? Why would he return alone? Did something happen on the way? The message from Tallon was clear, three of them were headed for Seramour.
Is he hurt?
she wondered. She ran to the stairway at the end of the hall. Two steps at a time, she climbed to the Chamber above.
My son. My son….

The doors were wide open. She saw the back of Fallean’s cape before she even entered the room. His auburn hair hung loose upon his shoulders, just as she remembered it. Treestar faced him, talking to him already. Liam stood beside the King.

“Fallean!” she shouted as she flew into the room.

He turned to greet her.

Chapter Fifty-six

“When was the last time you and Sidra were in contact with one another?” Blodwyn asked. “It has been eight tiels at least,” Aliya replied, her face stiff and proper.

When Bristar had first summoned her after leaving the council chamber, and she laid eyes upon the Chosen in his study, she had no idea her secret had been discovered. She greeted Blodwyn warmly and expected the conversation to revolve around the Quest and the recent troubles in Tamarand. Bristar would have warned her if she was here about Beolan. But Blodwyn wasted no time with formalities. She barely said hello before she told her she knew Sidra was her sister.

“Did she come here to see you then?” Blodwyn probed. She was unconcerned the Queen might be discomfited by her awareness. Other issues took precedence over her emotions.

“We met on the mountain. There is a small cave on the northern side of Silandre. She came to me in a dream, and I realized she wished to see me in person. When I awoke in the morning, I went immediately there and she was waiting for me.” Aliya held her head high but her eyes gave her pain away.

“I won’t ask why you speak so infrequently. It’s not my concern now. Nor is it my immediate concern why she has estranged herself from everyone else for so long. But I must ask if you can contact her somehow?” Blodwyn’s toe tapped the floor.

Aliya sat down heavily in one of the big chairs. She brushed her hair back from her forehead and held it behind her head, her thin arm tense and strained. “I have tried many times,” she admitted, her lips a straight line across her face. “I never could accept that my very own sister didn’t want to stay in touch with me. When our parents and our two brothers disappeared with the others in Odelot, I thought she would always try to remain close to me. We were the only ones left. But instead, their loss took her away from me too. I suspect I needed her more than she needed me,” she explained. She smiled a smile of hurt. “I do not know where she resides, nor why she refuses to speak with me.”

“You said she came to you in a dream the last time? Why? What compelled her to reach out to you then?”

Bristar saw his wife’s discomfort. He walked up behind her and put his hand upon her shoulder. “Is this really necessary?” he asked. “What is important is whether or not she can contact her now, is it not?”

Aliya reached back and placed her palm on top of his. “Speaking of this does not make it any worse for me,” she said to him. “There are few days when these thoughts do not enter my own mind.” She turned back to Blodwyn. “She questioned me about a woman whom she had met in Gwendolen. I knew her as a child and she wished to learn as much about her as she could.”

“Gwendolen?” Blodwyn asked, her chin rising.

“Yes, the one called Mira. She later became the heir’s guardian,” Aliya said. “Sidra spent a good deal of time with her before the darkness enveloped the kingdom. I believe it was she who taught Mira the art of casting.”

“How remarkable,” Blodwyn replied. She never imagined. “You knew Mira well yourself? She was not elfin.”

“Yes, I knew her well when we were quite young. And no, she was not an elf. She was like me, of mixed heritage,” Aliya admitted. She turned her face away and bowed her head.

“I did not know,” Blodwyn replied, her eyes fixed on Aliya.

“None who remain alive, save my husband and my sister, know of this,” she said. “Many of us in Odelot were of mixed race.”

“Were you and Sidra not from a town near Odelot?” This news surprised her too.

“No. We were born in the city itself. Our parents sent us away for schooling. We were gone when the moment came.” The pain of this retelling showed in her movements, in the curl of her shoulders.

“The moment?” Blodwyn questioned, though she knew what she referred to.

“We were not present when everyone disappeared,” Aliya replied. “Would you like to sit? It bothers me that you are standing. It makes me uncomfortable.”

Blodwyn shrugged. “If you wish,” she replied and pulled a chair up beside her.

“We never saw our parents, brothers or friends again,” she continued now that she could look directly in her eyes. “My sister was also in love at the time; deeply in love. She was planning their official union. He was the son of the governor of the city,” Aliya recalled. “Her entire world was stolen from her that day. I think she would have preferred it if she had died or disappeared with the others.” She folded her hands in her lap and watched them. “My sister left me shortly after that, on the doorsteps of the school, and I didn’t see her again for a very long time,” She did not look up.

“Do you know what happened in Odelot?” the Chosen asked.

“No,” she answered quietly. “I do not. It has been a burden for me my entire life, not knowing the fate of those I loved so much.” A single tear rolled down her cheek. “I chose to move on with my life,” she said, looking up at Bristar. “My sister wasn’t able to do that. Perhaps it was because she was the eldest and she felt the loss more poignantly. I was still a child at the time. I convinced myself that it hurt her to remain in contact with me, and for that reason alone, she refused my entreaties. I must have reminded her of all that she had lost.” Bristar reached for her hand.

Blodwyn walked to the window and stared out across the rooftops of the city. She stood in silence, her head bowed.
I wonder what she saw in the demise of Odelot that has kept her estranged even from her sister? Half elfin as well. Hmmm. Sidra knows more than I suspected

“It’s obvious to me now that Sidra has had her hand in more events than any of us realized. Far more than I ever imagined,” she finally said. “Her power is great, that we know. Her motives remain unclear, though I’m greatly encouraged by the knowledge of her relationship with Mira. She saved the boy from certain death, and it now appears as if your sister played an active role in preparing for that fateful moment as well.” Blodwyn exhaled. “What I’ve learned from you already is enough to convince the others of her loyalty.”

Aliya dropped her eyes to the floor. “That is why you wanted me to contact her? You were unsure of her allegiances?” She was offended. Blodwyn’s doubts hurt, even now.

“I’m sorry to say it, but yes. We needed to know for certain. When she refused the bond, many questioned her motives and her loyalty.”

Her gaze flashed to the Chosen. “She refused the bond?” Aliya asked. “I had no idea!” She looked at Bristar, confused.

“She had been the first choice of the great Lalas, Promanthea, and she declined to accept his offer,” Blodwyn said. “This has not been made public for many reasons. We felt it would be unfair to Robyn dar Tamarand for others to know he was not his Lalas’ original choice.”

“Yes. Refusing the bond would certainly have made the other Chosen suspicious,” Bristar agreed.

Aliya’s lips pursed. “Until she reconciled the loss of her love, our parent’s and all the others, I believe she wouldn’t have been able to serve as a Chosen. It consumed her,” she explained. “She was always determined to find out what happened. If she had accepted the role of a Chosen, then she could not, in good faith, have devoted her time to this matter any longer, and that would have been impossible for her then. It may still be,” she said. “All these tiels I had no idea. No idea,” she repeated under her breath. “How sad for her to have had to deny herself such an opportunity. She’s sacrificed more than I ever imagined.” Her eyes brimmed with tears.

“Your sister’s determination to find the answers to Odelot’s doom helps to explain her decision,” Bristar concluded.

“Yes, it does.” Blodwyn was glad, in a joyless way, that she finally had an explanation for Sidra’s behavior, and that neither arrogance nor contempt was the cause. “I don’t think it will be necessary for you to try to contact her now. The purpose was to determine where her fidelity lay, and I think we’ve answered that question already. I can return to Lilandre with this news,” Blodwyn concluded.

Aliya stood up and walked to Blodwyn. She took her hand in her own. Her grip was firm. “My secret is safe with you?”

“Perfectly,” Blodwyn replied. “Why though must you still keep this from the world?” she said softly, inches from her face.

Aliya didn’t answer right away. When she began to speak, her features were more relaxed, her jaw not as stiff, her voice softer. “I’m not from Crispen and I’m not of pure blood.” Her cheeks reddened. “Though Bristar knew that when he chose me for his bride, I don’t want this to impact upon our son. He is the heir to the throne of Crispen and I fear for him. Sidra does and says whatever she wishes to. That is her way,” she smirked, remembering. “Her reputation, as you well know, is mysterious and many fear her. How might they feel if they discover she is my son’s aunt, their Queen’s sister? We here are more conservative in our manner, and I worry the elves of Crispen might not accept him if they were to find out now. The world is so unsettled as it is.” Aliya let go of the Chosen’s hand and turned her back on both Blodwyn and Bristar. She stared out through the leaded glass.

“I understand,” Blodwyn nodded. “But there may come a time when you will wish to let them know the truth. I have faith the people of this kingdom will understand in the end.”

“You are beloved by the elves of Crispen. Their hearts are more generous than you imagine, my dear,” Bristar consoled her.

“It’s not for my own sake I harbor these concerns, but for our son and the succession,” she replied. She faced them once again. “When he returns…” She didn’t finish her sentence.

“These decisions need not be made now,” Blodwyn said. She’d said enough, learned enough. “But I must go. This has been informative and I’m grateful. I never wished to cause you pain.” She drew her breaths slowly. “It is crucial we know our friends from our enemies. Our strengths will be tested in the days to come.” She walked toward the exit.

“These tests, as you call them, began a long time ago,” Bristar replied, his arm around Aliya’s slim waist.

“They are a part and parcel of life, I’m afraid,” Aliya said. “They begin with birth and they never end.” Her voice was frail and distant.

“I will find my own way out. It’s not necessary for you to accompany me,” Blodwyn smiled as she pulled the door open. “Farewell.” She whisked through the portal and it shut behind her.

“Do you really think if the truth were known by everyone that it would be acceptable to them?” Aliya asked Bristar as soon as Blodwyn was gone. “Or would they hold it against me even more for having kept these secrets for so long?” Her face was full of concern.

“You have not betrayed them, Aliya. We all have demons and heroes in our pasts. What are your demons? That you are of mixed blood? Bah! So what? Who would reject you for such trivial things?”

“Trivial to you, perhaps,” she frowned.

“Am I not the King?” he replied. “If this issue is of no significance to me, then it should not be to my people.”

“Let us tell them then after Beolan returns home safely. He should be present for such a declaration, after we speak with him about it.”

“So it shall be,” Bristar agreed.

“Go back to the council chamber now. The ministers must be growing impatient.” He’d left them there in order to join her and Blodwyn.

“I had forgotten,” he replied.

“I’ll meet you later. I have some thinking to do first. This has been difficult for me.” She looked up at him with moist eyes. “Perhaps we can have a quiet dinner in the study like in the old days?”

“I’d like that very much,” he agreed.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Aliya ran to the window. Something drew her gaze outside. It felt as if someone had been calling her the entire time Blodwyn was there, beckoning her to come.
Beolan
, she thought. There had always been a special bond between them. She looked to the edge of the woods, hoping it would be him she saw standing there.

A fox ran for shelter into the nearby trees and she followed it.
It must be scavenging for food beside the walls, she thought.
Then she saw him. He walked right out from behind a broad tree just to the side of where the fox had dashed. Sitting up tall in his saddle, the wind blew his hair back away from his face. He clasped his horse’s mane in one hand just as he always did, and he rode without the benefit of a bridle or a saddle as she had taught him.

Beolan!
her mind shouted.
It’s you! It’s really you. Not my imagination. I felt you coming home. I knew it.
She was so overjoyed she could barely breathe.

She ran from the room as fast as she could. She couldn’t wait to touch him, to hug him, to hold him again. The palace guards were all with the army in Tamarand and no one would delay her bringing him back home. Tears streamed down her face.
How happy your father will be.

Lost in her moment of need, she dashed from the room to greet him.