Elvendude (28 page)

Adam doubted that she'd meant that viciously, but it still dug.
Yeah, don't I know we're all involved,
he thought morosely.

"I saw Zeldan Dhu today," Adam said dismally, taking what had become his "throne," near the Sony. All motion ceased in the room; the Gameboys ran on auto, beeping and chiming as all faces turned to Adam.

"Did he see you?" Petrus asked, his voice quavering with terror.

Adam shook his head. "He did not see me, I don't think. But
I
saw more than I cared to."

He had yet to share this insight with Marbann, who regarded him curiously. "Do continue, young King," Marbann said. "You were rather silent during the journey over here. I sense you've come to some decisions regarding our future."

Damn his perceptiveness,
Adam thought, but did not find it in himself to be angry. Even considering retreat felt like a failure, and Marbann's harsh look made it difficult to continue.

"Marbann and I followed my human friend Daryl to an establishment, which now appears to be a front for dealing Black Dream."

Moira sucked in her breath, while the others showed various degrees of concern. "We knew it was happening," Moira said. "This . . . establishment. You discovered the Unseleighe nest, didn't you?"

Adam nodded, shifted uncomfortably in the chair, and willed the room, which had become rather warm, to chill a few degrees. "Aye," Adam said dismally. "I got a glimpse of the power these elves have."

Marbann regarded him with amusement. "Is that what's been bothering you? I admit, I felt it too, but I didn't think their power
that
great."

"Tell me," Adam said, eyeing him directly, and for once Marbann's look wandered. "Do
you
think you can defeat Zeldan Dhu?"

"I don't know," Marbann said. "But if you're concerned about what you saw, or rather, felt, let me explain. . . ."

Adam was not convinced. "I saw the power that dwelled in their nest," he said, but Marbann waved him to silence.

"The power was stolen from human pain," Marbann insisted. "
That
much I know. And as such, it is unpredictable and difficult to direct. Do not think for a moment that it is greater than the forces
you
have at your command."

Marbann was being insubordinate, but Adam saw no skillful way to call him on it. Instead, he decided to drop his proposal on everyone present.

"I think that we, as a clan, should leave this human city. We cannot survive another battle with Zeldan Dhu. We must begin to look for a new haven."

Having said that, Adam tried to look his clan in the face and found with alarm that he could not.
Why?
he thought frantically.
I have their interests as well as my own to consider. . . . 

Somehow, the argument didn't wash with himself.

"No," Marbann said. "Zeldan must die. We cannot rest until—"

"I am not running from Unseleighe ever again!" Niamh said. "I'm not, I'm not!"

"Do you really think he will just quit looking for us?" Moira interjected. "Running from him doesn't appeal to me, I'll have you know. I was looking forward to seeing his blood on my blade!" Already Adam was regretting his statement.

"Retreat. Before the battle even begins?"

All looked up at Samantha, who had just entered the living room. Adam hadn't noticed her arrival, and her sudden appearance made him quite uncomfortable indeed. Her look, a wintry glare that chilled his blood, reminded him why.

Gods, I haven't even considered her opinion on this. . . .
he thought, wishing he might recall the words.

"And who have you consulted in this matter?" Samantha advanced into the room, her aura sparking with anger and something else—a tangible fury Adam usually associated with thunderstorms. She took a seat near him, but despite her wrath, she still looked weary. With a wave of her hand, she dismissed her human seeming and regarded Adam with her full elven features.

"I know that you are frightened of Zeldan Dhu," she said, softer than he had expected. "And to a certain extent I am also. He is an abomination to the entire elven race."

Adam felt his authority slipping, but in the presence of the elf who used to be his human "mother" this felt natural, if not inevitable.
There are still buttons she can push. She had years to install them
.

Samantha's expression seemed to soften, and she continued, "But you are the King, and it is wrong of me to criticize your decision." She walked over to the buffet, and among the antique knickknacks she selected a small wooden box and handed it to Adam.

As he examined it, he began to see what a delicate work of art it was. The rectangular box, small enough to fit in his palm, was a mosaic of inlaid wood, forming a dozen or so five-pointed stars. When he saw that the hinge was not metal, but carved wood, he said, "This is from Underhill, isn't it?"

"It is. Open it."

Inside was a light blue crystal, tipped with four facets. As it caught the light, a rainbow spread down his arm.

"It is a memory crystal, which your father sent with Wenlann before Zeldan defeated him. I was to give it to you when you were further along in your studies, but now your hasty decision has forced my hand."

Adam opened his mouth to ask,
How do you use this?
Then he remembered.

He closed both hands around it and reached for it as he would reach a node; the crystal pulsed in his hand, and he saw a deep blue light trickling between his fingers, illuminating his hands from within.

The images came swiftly, moving like the swift current of a shallow river, before he focused on what he perceived was the primary image in the recording; his father's last memories surged into his mind.

"Close your eyes," Samantha said. "The images will be easier to see."

As he did so, he dropped into a sea-vertigo, and relived his father's last thoughts. . . .

. . .this is the last message I will ever send you, dear son. All is lost here, as I record this crystal. Your mother has died and soon I will, too, but what is important is that you take the clan to safety. . . .

At the edges of the message Adam caught glimpses of the small room he'd last seen his father in, falling dust, the tremor of levin bolts. The memory sickened him, and saddened him, as this was the last thing his father saw.

Zeldan Dhu will pursue you until he finds you and kills you, and once that is done, he will kill the rest of the others, and there will be no Avalon.

Adam wrestled with himself, wanting to drop the damned piece of crystal and wanting to hear the rest. Grief welled within him as his father's thoughts mixed with his own; it felt, for a moment, like he was still alive, offering fatherly advice.

Do not misunderstand me, my dearest son. I want you to find safety in the humans' world, but once you've established yourself there, you must make yourself strong and attack Zeldan. Soon, and quickly. If you don't attack, he will surely kill you. That is the only way you will survive, and this request is the only gift I can give the elfhame, in my dying breath. Find Zeldan and—

That was all. The message ended abruptly, replaced by darkness.

"No!" Adam shouted, opening his eyes. He dropped the crystal and tried to stand up; dizziness and fatigue prevented him from going too far.
Father . . .
he thought through the tears, as the loss of his father once again tore an open wound in his chest.

"There, there," Samantha said soothingly, and he felt her arms close around him. He leaned into her and returned the embrace, fighting back the sobs, then surrendering to them completely.

Several minutes later, he looked up into Samantha's face, this time with fierce determination.

"I didn't think I had any tears left," he said through the anger that replaced the grief. "Those may be the last for a long, long time."

Samantha stroked his hair, a motherly gesture that had calmed him in times of human crisis in the past. The elfhame surrounded him with expressions of concern.

This is no way for a King to behave.

He stood, successfully this time, and went into the bathroom. There he washed his face with cold water, twice, as if this would sweep the grief away. It helped; at least his eyes weren't as red. He noticed something else, too, a change in his face that went beyond the tears he'd recently shed. He saw anger, and determination. Leadership, and an awakening.

I'm not afraid of Zeldan Dhu.

Then,
Zeldan Dhu murdered my family. I will not allow him to kill any more of us.

And,
If we don't act now, he will.

Adam returned to the living room, where a sea of hopeful faces greeted him. Composed, he seated himself in his usual chair. The memory crystal was in the wooden box, which was open and sitting on the coffee table.

"I think I might have made a decision in haste, without consulting the clan. As Samantha has pointed out." He paused, wondering briefly where this would go. His mouth ran on, seemingly on its own volition. "My father knew Zeldan well," he continued, eyeing the wooden box with a raised eyebrow. "As I should also have known, having seen his work so far.

"We must summon our energies and strike Zeldan and his Unseleighe with everything we have."

The resultant cheer drowned out his next thought. The reaction wasn't something he expected, and he blushed with pride.

Finally, I've done
something
right,
he thought, grateful for his father's insight. He wondered if a bit of Father had just rubbed off on him during the memory transference.

"I'm uncertain where to begin. Suggestions, anyone?"

Niamh raised a hand tentatively, then spoke. "There is something I wanted to bring up earlier. It may make a difference when we confront Zeldan."

Everyone turned to Niamh attentively.

"Yes?" Samantha said. "Go ahead."

"Well," Niamh began, visibly flustered by the newfound attention, "it's the weapon. Long ago, before there was ever a threat from Zeldan, Avalon appropriated—"

"Stole," Samantha corrected.

"Okay,
stole
this weapon from a human school. In California, I think it was."

"I recall the project," Samantha said. "The technicians in charge of it were killed in Zeldan's first wave, but this was what happened. The creator of the weapon, a college boy not much older than our King, had second thoughts about its use. One of the Seleighe, then doing a reconnaissance of that region of North America, came across the lad, and when they learned what he had, they made arrangements for its disappearance."

Adam was confused, and let it show. "What weapon? What does it do?"

"It was originally meant to amplify light. The humans call such a device a laser, and they are common now, used in medicine and the making of things. What made this device unique was that, with a few adjustments, the device was capable of amplifying node power."

Adam stared at her, then broke out of the mental fog the concept induced. "Node power? This made it more . . ."

"Concentrated. The Seleighe techs who came across the device were fascinated by its properties and were interested in a peaceful use for it. But when they brought it to Underhill, it refused to work."

"I know where they keep it," Niamh said smugly. "In fact, it was—"

"I remember it now," Adam said.
In the chamber. Where Mother's body lay.
"But why didn't it work in Underhill?"

Samantha shrugged. "Who knows? Perhaps there was a difference in physics between our two worlds that was slight enough to keep it from working. We do know that it worked before they brought it to Underhill."

Adam thought of the device, now a murky but substantial memory, and how much it resembled a rifle. He'd seen a movie,
Ghostbusters,
and remarked how much it resembled the ghost-annihilating weapons in that. But the weapon was more streamlined and did not require big backpacks, just a little one.

If it does what Samantha says it does. . . 

"We need to go back and get it," Adam said suddenly.
Anything to swing the odds in our favor.

"You and what army?" Moira said. "The Unseleighe captured the palace, remember?"

Samantha interrupted, "Now, wait a minute. Keep in mind that Zeldan is rather powerful at the moment. Our resources are limited, as well as our skills. We need something to give us an edge before we can even think about taking on the Unseleighe."

"Do we know how many soldiers Zeldan left at Underhill to defend the palace?" Adam asked.

A long thoughtful silence followed. Marbann spoke up. "For all we know, they've abandoned the palace. From what little we know of their strategy, they don't take positions for any reason other than killing whoever owns them. Our palace included."

"There wasn't much there
to
take," Samantha admitted sadly. "By the time I arrived, the palace was all but destroyed."

King Aedham Tuiereann batted the subject back and forth until a consensus had been reached: they would return to Underhill and retrieve the weapon. Adam asked for volunteers; everyone present raised their hands. Samantha regarded him with a look which seemed to say,
This decisions's yours to make.

He considered the matter. Spence would be helpful on the other side, but he wasn't here to volunteer himself. He finally selected Niamh, who knew where the weapon was. Then, of course, his teacher, Marbann. Though not a mage, he did have a better grasp of magic, particularly that of Underhill.

"I move we go now," Adam said. "There is only one problem that I foresee. How can we guarantee that we will return to the humans' world within a reasonable period of time?"

"Yes, indeed," Marbann said thoughtfully. "To return in five human years or so and find the elfhame conquered would never do. Also, if the Unseleighe still have possession of the nodes, which is a certainty, I would have nothing with which to build a return Gate."

Samantha seated herself in the living room. "If we construct a Gate to remain open during your entire stay . . . you would return at the exact point you left," she said, crossing her legs and kicking off her high heels. "The drawbacks would be that your time to find the weapon would be limited. For any substantial length of time, a Gate would require more than the usual amount of node energy."