Authors: Gary Alan Wassner
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Horror, #Dark Fantasy, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Sword & Sorcery
Chapter Sixteen
“Why must you play games with me?” he asked. “Are we not all beyond that? You seek my help, and I seek yours.”
I have not the need you speak of
, the tree replied.
“Yet you have chosen to confide in me? What motivates you then?”
Some sacrifices are necessary if we are to preserve what we can in the face of the inevitable.
“You have realized then how hopeless the situation is for them all? And for yourselves as well?” the deep voice asked. “The outcome has been foreseeable since the beginning of time. It is no surprise to me that self interest now governs your actions.”
We have more to consider. We must survive beyond dissolution, though life upon this earth may not.
“You are no different than I am! And all these tiels I have felt no kinship with the great Lalas,” he mocked. “We should have been allies long ago. So much needless and enduring suffering could have been avoided. Now that you see what is to come, you have chosen to forsake those so devoted to you? How different are we really?”
Your sense of what we must do is far different than ours. Our vision extends beyond today. You would be wise not to perceive us as allies.
“Is this a threat that I hear?” he laughed. “What you choose to do after time has stopped for the rest of us, I care little about. I can think of no other word than ‘ally’ to describe you. Would you prefer the appellation, ‘traitor’? Is that a more apt description?” he maligned.
Call me what you will, it matters not. I have given you enough information. Now take it and be gone!
the Lalas said, and the words exploded in Colton’s mind.
“I am grateful, Ormachon. I will use it well, believe me,” the Dark Lord taunted before his image vanished from the glen.
Chapter Seventeen
Conrad bent down and dumped Dalloway’s unmoving body on the doorstep of his home as if it was a sack of potatoes he had brought back from one of his trading trips. He then rushed back to the horse that stood obediently nearby, and gently and tenderly he lifted up his unconscious daughter.
“I should never have let you wander alone. How could I have been such a fool?” he cried, tears streaming down his cheeks.
He kissed her on both of her eyelids as if she was a small child, and he carefully pushed back a lock of her auburn hair that had loosened itself from the long braid that hung down to the ground around his feet as he carried her inside the cottage. He placed her gently upon the bed in the corner, covered her with a soft blanket of goose down and then quickly lit the fire in the large hearth. Grabbing a kettle from the table nearby, he pressed once upon the pump handle next to it and allowed the water to fill the pot almost to the brim. Taking it with him to the cabinet above the hearth, he removed two large leaves from the drying bin inside. Conrad stuffed the leaves hastily into the water, slammed the cover shut and promptly hung it from the hook over the growing flames.
While the Lalas tea brewed, he went back outside and picked up the elf. Reluctantly, he brought him inside as well, knowing that his daughter’s fate was now inextricably bound to this stranger from the other world, the world that was so incredibly dangerous to her health and well being. He tossed him down upon a mat before the fire and turned his back upon him almost as soon as Dalloway’s body hit the floor.
I must keep him alive
, he thought.
Sophia died because I failed to keep that other one alive. I will not fail this time.
After making sure that Caroline was breathing steadily, he returned to the prostrate elf. It was hard for him not to hate the stranger, simply because if it was not for his trespasses, his daughter’s life would not now be imperiled.
He does not look like an evil warrior. His face is gentle and he bears no battle scars. What felled him, I wonder? Ach! I should not trifle with worries about him! That will not bring Caroline back to me.
The kettle began to rattle and spit, and he turned away from Dalloway and rushed to the fire. Using a long hook, he removed the pot from the flame and poured the liquid carefully into two large mugs on the long table.
“Ouch!” he exclaimed, as he scalded his lip tasting the steaming liquid. “I left it on the fire too long. Now I have to wait for it to cool. Darn it all!” he lamented. “She needs this tea! What more can I do wrong?” he railed.
The ice was melting off of Dalloway’s clothing and forming a small pool of water all around his body. His hair was disheveled and straggly, but he was still handsome nonetheless.
He is noble looking. Regal too despite his youth. Why would he intrude upon our lands? I will have to recheck all my wards. How could he have breached them without me knowing?
he wondered.
What could have brought him here? There is nothing here anyone from the outside could want.
He touched his lips to the tea once more and then nodded his head, satisfied with the temperature at last. Carefully, he raised Caroline’s face to the cup and opened her parched lips. He let the liquid drip slowly down her throat.
This has to help her. The brew is potent. It will clear her head.
After he had made certain that his daughter had swallowed as much as he thought she could do safely under the circumstances, he walked once again over to the intruder. Roughly this time, he opened the elf’s jaw and dribbled some Lalas tea down his throat as well. Rubbing upon his Adam’s apple, he caused the silent visitor to swallow involuntarily, and nodded his head in acknowledgment once more. He repeated this process a number of times until the tea was running down Dalloway’s chin.
His skin is so cold, almost as if his body is frozen. I wonder how long he was out there. It is unnaturally cold though, despite the warmth in this room.
Conrad pushed the intruder’s sleeve up in order to feel the pulse.
It is strong! He does not seem to be injured or ill. But he is freezing still! He should have warmed up a little by now, no matter how chilled he is.
“Stay alive now,” he admonished. “My daughter’s life depends upon you!”
You are so much like your mother
, he thought, gazing upon his daughter’s lovely face.
You will not share her fate though! I will not let this man die. I know better now. He will survive and so will you!
he promised.
What could be wrong with him? Something has pushed him into this deep sleep. It is not natural. How can I awaken him?
After making sure that both the elf and his beloved daughter were breathing comfortably, he stepped outside the door of the cottage and sat upon the front steps in order to contemplate the situation. He always thought better out of doors.
Unnaturally cold. Why is he so cold? Perchance if I warm him up, he will come to his senses,
Conrad thought.
Maybe someone put a spell upon him and froze him. He appears to be healthy and he has no signs of injury. He is breathing steadily, his heart is strong and his color is good despite the temperature of his skin. Maybe all that is keeping him benumbed is this intense cold. If Caroline had not stumbled upon him, surely he would have perished by now. He would have died and no one would have been the wiser. If he was ever found, it would have seemed as if he simply succumbed to exposure. Someone planned this!
he began to believe.
Someone wanted him dead and they wanted it to appear as if he died naturally.
He rushed back inside and opened the heavy lid of the trunk that sat in the comer. From inside of it, he pulled out two thick blankets of a soft wool-like fiber and brought them back to where Dalloway was lying. With both hands, he flung one open and spread it over the prone elf. As he went to tuck the sides in around him tightly, a medallion on a leather thong fell out of his shirt and dangled upon the welting of his jerkin.
What is this?
Conrad thought, lifting it carefully. Despite the elf’s intensely cold body temperature, it was warm to the touch.
Not an ordinary elf, this one. This token bears the ancient runes of Sidra. He could not have stumbled upon such an artifact. Things like these do not get misplaced. No. It must have been given to him, or he stole it! But it would take quite a thief to lift a token from Sidra’s cache. She is not one to be easily fooled, especially by an elf. Her affections have always been reserved for humans. Could she really have given it to the likes of him? Why would he be so worthy in her eyes?
He placed the medallion back inside Dalloway’s tunic, and finished wrapping the first blanket around him before grabbing the other blanket and doing the same with the second cover, leaving only his head exposed. The floor was already wet with water from the thawing of his clothing, and it quickly seeped into the blankets. He walked over to the fire and placed some large pieces of wood upon the embers. He fanned the small flames until the new wood caught. Shortly, the fire was raging once again and the room was heating up quickly, drawing the moisture more rapidly out from the elf’s apparel.
A token from Sidra. She never gave me anything like that
, he was almost jealous at the thought.
He must be an important elf. More the reason to awaken him.
He quickly checked that Caroline was comfortable before picking up a wooden stool and carrying it to Dalloway’s side. He sat upon it and watched the elf, hoping his body temperature would return to normal naturally. But, though his face grew rosy and his hair stuck to his forehead and cheeks as the water seeped out of it, his skin remained icy cold. The room was so hot now that Conrad had to remove his shirt so that he would not pass out himself.
I wonder about that medal. He must have it for a reason. Maybe I can make some use of it here.
He reached inside the intruder’s shirt once again and grasped the pendant in his hand. It was still warm and his fingers tingled slightly as he held it. He lurched up and strode to the fire. Conrad picked up a small pot filled with hot water that had been sitting upon the flames, carried it back to the side of the insensate visitor and sat down again. Without removing the thong from the elf’s neck, he extended it as far as it would reach and let it hang into the pot of boiling water. It sizzled and steamed as soon as it came into contact with the liquid, and within seconds, it began to glow.
As I suspected
, he smiled.
The medallion seemed to absorb the heat, to suck it in, and Conrad watched as the leather string that was looped through it began to glow as well. The heat radiated down the cord on both sides of the medal toward the knot that secured it behind the man’s head. Once the circle was complete, a brilliant light burst from the center of the token and spread quickly over the elf’s entire body. Conrad jumped and almost fell over backward on the chair. He could feel the heat and he panicked for a brief moment wondering if he had unleashed a power that was going to harm him even more. He watched anxiously, poised to withdraw the cauldron of hot liquid if the elf seemed to suffer as a result.
Sidra? Are you with me now? Is it you who has caused this elf’s stupor or will you be my daughter’s savior?
he wondered anxiously, hoping that he would not regret this gamble.
The light waxed brighter and brighter as it continued to envelop the elf’s body. The air around him grew moist and steamy, and a small cloud of mist hung over him. Conrad could hear a slight hissing sound as the moisture evaporated. The cloud grew thicker and it soon appeared almost solid, as if he could grab it and move it in chunks. Beneath its surface he could see tiny whirlwinds and zephyrs playing upon the elf’s skin, rushing and spinning frenetically up and down his body, his arms and his legs.
He withdrew the now empty pot and pushed it to the side, thus allowing the medal to hang freely once again. His skin tingled as it came into contact with the thick fog that surrounded the elf, and two or three of the mist-like whirligigs skirted speedily up and down his arm before leaping playfully back into the cloud and disappearing in the larger mass. The hair upon his arm stood up in response, and he ran his hand across it involuntarily. It was warm to the touch, and he smiled broadly in response. Just as quickly as it began, the illumination went out and the room took on an eerie glow. The vapor still shrouded the elf’s unconscious body but it was now as still as could be, and it appeared more like a heavy mantle that lay immobile upon him. Conrad leaned in as close as he could and he fanned the air with his hands in an effort to dissipate the cloud of moisture so that he could gaze upon the man’s face.
He was no more than six inches from Dalloway’s face when the elf’s eyes sprung open. Both men jumped, startled, but Conrad continued to hover over him. “Do not try anything!” he warned.
“Who are you?” Dalloway asked feebly.
“I will ask the questions,” he stated. “Who are you? And how did you get the medal?” he demanded, pointing to the token that hung upon his shirt.
Thank the First he is alive!
“My name is Dalloway and I hail from Lormarion. The last I remember, I was leaving Eleutheria, the home of my uncle, Whitestar,” he began to explain as honestly as he could, though it was clearly difficult for him to recall. “What medal are you referring to?” he asked perplexed, and he looked down to where the older man indicated. “I never saw this before,” he said, as he touched the medallion weakly. “You did not place this around my neck?”
“It belongs to Sidra. Look, her mark is right there on the back, as plain as the day is long!” he said, turning it over and showing the runes to Dalloway.
“Sidra? What is Sidra?” The elf looked more and more bewildered by the minute. He tried to rise, but his arm gave way as he propped himself up, and he collapsed to the floor again.
“Sidra is a she, not a what, and don’t you move just yet, young man,” Conrad warned him. “You are still not very strong, and I do not want you to hurt yourself.”
“Thank you for the concern,” Dalloway replied.
“It is not you for whom I bear concern.”
Dalloway was so thoroughly exhausted that he found it hard to think clearly, but he was grateful nevertheless for the blankets and warm shelter within which he now found himself.
“I do not know who you are or how I got here, but I thank you humbly for helping me,” he said weakly. “You have nothing to fear from me, kind Sir.”
“I have plenty to fear!” Conrad shot back. “Stay put while I see to my daughter.” Conrad walked over to the bed in the corner where Caroline lay, but he kept his eyes on the elf all the time. “Do not try to escape. I will be upon you in a second!”
Dalloway closed his eyes and lay back once more. He was exhausted, and the only thing he wanted to do was rest and regain his strength.
Conrad sat next to the girl on the very edge of the bed and aimed his head for an instant in order to look upon her face. To his astonishment, her eyes were open and she was smiling at him.
“Caroline!” he exclaimed. “You are alive! Can you hear me?”
“No need to yell, father. I am right next to you. My hearing is very good, remember?” she replied affectionately though weakly.
He was so relieved that for a moment he forgot all about Dalloway. He smoothed out her hair gently and tenderly pushed it off of her face.
“Is he okay?” she asked.
“Fine, though reluctant to reveal much,” he grimaced.
“He speaks the truth, father. He has no recollection of what has happened to him. He is not concealing anything intentionally.”
“Do you know that, my child? Or are you just smitten by his innocent look?”
“I am certain,” she whispered. “Go to him. We must help him. He was felled by the most evil spell, and it compelled him to forget something very important. We must assist him in regaining that memory. Sidra’s mark is present upon him. He cannot be bad!”
“I wondered about that myself, Caroline, but I am still reluctant to trust him. He must leave as soon as he can regardless. You cannot be near him.”