The Elf King (62 page)

“
My love, you should have
joined me instead. Would it have really been that bad? You and I?
You did not need the other two Dark Elves, or this mess you are
now. It’s a shame, my love.”

As she reached Lon,
Breedoria stopped within a few inches from Lon’s face, its arms
moving slightly as it sought to break the invisible chains, its
head thrashing from side to side inhaling the black magic as if it
were air, absorbing the magic and weakening her hold of it. Her own
face was a shifting maze of heartache and bitterness as she
whispered sadly. “I want to see you, Dren. Dig yourself away from
the darkness and come to the light. See me as you should, my
love.”

“
Yes, come
closer.”

She placed one hand over
the crystal tied around her neck. “I can draw him from you, dark
spirit. I can have him still, if I wish.” Then with one swift
stroke, she pulled the crystal free of the leather string and
thrust it forth towards the demon spirit.

Mad like a chained animal,
the spirit thrashed wildly, uncontrollably, unsuccessfully trying
to claim the crystal from her hand. “Give it to me!”

“
This crystal will draw
your power,” she said flatly. “Then you die.”

But the spirit had all but
eaten away the magic she had placed upon it. As Breedoria called
forth the power from the crystal, Lon’s body tore through the
remaining magic holding it and swiped for her. As she turned away,
reeling the crystal back towards her cloak, she felt the sword rip
from her grasp. As she looked back, Lon was holding the sword with
both hands, screaming as a white light began to flare.

K
loe Datris and Wilt Oan reached the base of the spiral
staircase just as a white light began to shine from the cellar
below. They had already slowed their approach, swords drawn, eyes
alert, and now nearly crawled towards the steps as they heard a
wicked howl and another scream. The white light intensified for a
few moments, keeping them where they stood at the top steps, hoping
to descend in the darkness.

Kloe Datris slowly crept
down the staircase, pressing his body flat against the wall. Wilt
followed, walking gingerly, breathing deeply out of his mouth,
trying hard to contain his nervousness. But with the staircase
winding as it did, they were able to make it down a few feet before
the structure bent around, and were able to use it to hide
them.

Kloe Datris stopped then.
He looked back up to the old man’s face, who shared the same look
of disbelief. Together they realized it was Lon Ruell. But they
knew better now. With cold chills sweeping across their skin, they
stood frozen by fear and watched in silence, unable to look
away.

“
W
hat is this?” screamed the
spirit as Shadox’s magic erupted from the blade in white bolts.
They shot out in every direction, entwining and locking together to
make a cage around Lon’s body.

Breedoria’s face showed no
surprise, but enjoyment. She laughed, cruel and wicked, mocking the
other’s attempt to use the magic, jabbing at it with her words of
malice. The white light from the magic glowed across her face,
penetrating into the deep hood’s darkness, causing her to squint,
but not look away.

“
More than you bargained
for, my love?”

“
What did you
do?”

“
You should be more
concerned with what I am about to do.”

When the sword dropped from
Lon’s hands, the magic spent, the cage built and hissing with its
own energy, the spirit roared in defiance, shrieking terribly. It
cast both hands on the bars in an attempt to break them, but was
thrown back immediately. The magic would not let it get close. It
tried again, this time slamming Lon’s body into the side wall with
all of its strength. But the reaction was the same, and it was sent
flailing to the ground. Its own mad screaming drown out Breedoria’s
laughter as she circled the cage.

“
You left me once, only to
become my prisoner,” she mused. Her pale skin shined white in the
glow, her small frame stalking slowly.

The spirit screamed
continuously now, desperately trying to find a weakness, trying
hard to devour the magic cast about it. “Undo this, witch! Release
me!”

It continued for several
long minutes, its anger climaxing after each defeat. Then finally,
its screams drew a new level, holding longer than previous, and its
pitch deafening. Then, like smoke rising from a fire, the spirit
lifted out of Lon’s dead corpse. The lifeless husk fell to the
floor as the spirit continued to fight.

Far behind it, hiding in
the shadows of the staircase, Kloe Datris and Wilt Oan stared in
disbelief, watching the caged spirit frantically try to escape. Its
hissing could be heard loud and clear to them, even over the
laughter from the Dark Elf next to it.

Sweat trickled down Wilt’s
forehead into his beard. It was too risky to try to speak with
Kloe, he knew they stood a better chance if they said nothing and
waited to see how this would play out
.
What good are our swords against this? I wish the sorcerer were
still here.

“
Enough!” Breedoria yelled,
breaking all other lines of thought, drawing all attention to her
as she stood in front of the caged shadow. Her hand held the
crystal level with the spirit’s head. Her eyes were beady, deadly.
“I want what I came for.”

Then the crystal began to
glow.

“
No!” The spirit, vague in
shape and as wispy as mist, sped over every inch of its cell,
testing the magic for a chance to escape. But there was none. It
went mad, hissing and growling, screaming in deep wails as if it
were tortured.

The light of the crystal
shined bright for a second, then it slowly began to withdraw back.
Breedoria’s face was empty of emotions as she stared. “I want you,
Dren. I want to see you before you go.” Her voice was distant, but
demanding.

“
What is this?!” The spirit
felt itself being pulled a second before it realized what the
crystal was doing. “No!”

“
Come to me, Dren. Find the
light.”

The spirit was helpless
against the crystal’s power. If it could escape, it could enter the
Dark Elf and the power would all be its. It would have been easy.
But the cage would not allow for that to happen. And now, moving
away to the far side of the cell, it could feel the strength of the
crystal wrapping around it, weaving a thread that could not be
absorbed, nor rejected.

“
Come!” Breedoria
screamed.

“
No!”

Like a steady stream of
smoke, the spirit was stretched from its prison, vanishing inside
the crystal. Its wraith-like hands extended, grasping the vibrant
white bars, screeching at the touch, holding on for its life.
Steadily the crystal pulled it. Its screams became deafening—a wail
of unthinkable pain.

Then Breedoria saw it: a
slight shift in its voice, a slight struggle within.

“
Come, Dren. Look upon me
one last time, my love.”

Steadily the spirit’s
shrieking voice deepened, changing into something she found
familiar. “Bree!”

With a groan, the spirit
thrust itself off of the cell bars, slipping quickly through the
air into the crystal, stopping as it met the bars next to
Breedoria, clinging to them once again. With painful sounds
emitting from it, its face began to change, to take an actual
shape, a definite face. “Bree.”

Breedoria’s heart
fluttered. It was Dren. It was the fool who had left her. “Say
goodbye to me!” Her angered face softened, her dark eyes now lost
in a want that was neither for power nor control, but for something
else.

“
Bree!” It called out
again, but this time she could hear the struggle. The spirit was
still fighting to stay dominant. With the crystal still in control,
still pulling the spirit inside it, she knew time was
short.

“
It’s been too long,
Dren.”

Seeing him now brought back
all the pain that she carried when he had left. She watched Dren
struggle with the spirit, watched his face shift from the vision
she had loved to something else repeatedly for several seconds. All
the while she felt more of herself being lifted. The anger she had
for him, the complete bitterness she carried for so long, the pain
that allowed her to drift away from herself into the monster she
was now, was gently sliding away.

If she had not been so lost
in finding her love, she would have realized that the crystal was
absorbing her magic as well.

“
Dren! Fight it! Come to
me! Come to where you belong!” Beneath the deep hood, shining in
the dazzling white light, tears began to form and fall unnoticed
across her cheeks.

With most of its form
sucked into the crystal now, the spirit gave its last efforts for
freedom, taking control over Dren, screaming to the girl that
banished it. But as she cried his name, giving him the strength to
push out the demon it welcomed so long ago, Dren appeared one last
time.

“
I love you,
Bree.”

“
Dren!” she cried. “Why did
you leave me?”

“
It was the magic, Bree. I
had no choice.”

Dren’s spirit let go of the
prison, reaching out to embrace the Dark Elf while it could.
Breedoria screamed at the touch. It was not what she had wanted.
She could understand now the workings of everything, as the crystal
steadily seeped away at the magic that had blinded her for so long.
She could feel it withdraw from her like a blanket that had
smothered her and kept her warm for so long that she had forgot it
was even there. But as it released from her, leaving her with
emotions that were hers alone, she could see what she had done. She
could feel the love she had for Dren; she could feel the torment
she had caused others with her desire for power. She remembered
then how it felt to be herself. With all of the magic drained from
her, all her hatred gone, she watched in agony as the last of
Dren’s spirit vanished into the crystal she held.

“
No,” she cried.

Everything felt wrong. Her
stomach churned. Her skin chilled. She could not stop shivering;
the cold had no end to its depth. Her mind spun in a frantic race
then; she felt alone in a strange world. She had no magic to cling
to, noting to justify her actions. The weight of her actions bore
down on her frail body too heavily. The memories came rushing back.
Her eyes closed, her breathing slowed. Gone was the magic her body
once depended so heavily on. Her fingers and eyes began to twitch
as her body searched desperately for it, finding only emptiness.
She was slipping into shock.

“I don’t believe this,”
whispered Wilt Oan.

“
Oan!” Kloe Datris pointed,
his voice higher than a whisper now.

Wilt turned back quickly,
hearing the elf’s sobs patter against the stone floor. Then all at
once, her body fell. She hit the ground and lay unmoving. Wilt and
Kloe raced down the staircase. As they reached the bottom, standing
on the cellar’s stone-block floor, they watched as the glowing
magic bars began to enter the crystal as well. Within a second, the
cage too was gone.

“
Is she...?” Wilt couldn’t
finish his thought as he raced towards her.

Kloe Datris reached
Breedoria first, kneeling down beside her limp form. Her face was
smooth and youthful. He placed a hand over her chest, feeling a
soft beat, her body barely breathing. He turned up quickly to smile
at Wilt.

“
She’s alive!”

“
Let’s get her in a bed,”
Wilt replied softly.

Gingerly lifting her, Kloe
Datris cradled her in his arms. He and Wilt stared at the young
elf, wondering what her last thoughts were. They had watched the
transformation unfold, but neither could imagine the process. Wilt
Oan noticed the crystal in her gaunt palm. He didn’t want to touch
it though. Magic was not something he sought. Especially after
watching firsthand what it could do.

“
Let’s get her out of
here,” he said quietly.

“
It is finished then. The
demon is gone.” Kloe Datris began walking towards the staircase.
Wilt followed at his side. He had no response.