The Farthest Gate (The White Rose Book 1) (16 page)

Any hope I cherished that Amberyn had not heard me sounding so wickedly wanton evaporated as he appeared beside me, laughing. 

Do not be concerned,” he urged.  “The effect is normal for humans.  You are not suffering some spell of seduction.  No incubus is near.”  He put away his harp and came around to face me.  He made a courtly gesture with both hands.  “Welcome to Avalon.  This is the Forest of Dreams.  They say the trees drink the dreams of travelers who pass through here and often give their own dreams in return.” 

I looked about, trying to imagine what the dream of a tree would look like.  I quickly gave up the effort.

We had lost precious hours in a moment by coming to Avalon.  Day on this world was well advanced.  Gloom swathed the densest parts of the woods, held at bay where pale,
jade-tinted sunlight shafted through the canopy.  The wind was rich with floral and pine scents.  Birds twittered.  Somewhere, an owl called.  Fireflies hovered and flickered.  Taller than any forest I had ever heard of, the woods held me enthralled with breathless wonder.  The trees possessed a waiting quality that made me feel as if I should introduce myself to the giants and engage them in polite conversation.  Here, it seemed quite possible that the trees could do anything—given enough time to take an interest.

“That story about dreams, is it true?” I asked.

“Doubt nothing and everything while you are among us.  It is safer that way,” Amberyn said.  “Do not be lulled by how much here is common to your own world.  There is much on Avalon humans have never seen—wonders to make you laugh and weep, dangers to delight and horrify.

Wonderful
, I had traded an asylum of madness for one of mystery and perils.  Still, what else could I have done?

My roving gaze
embraced my son, as he stood a few feet away, framed by a single standing stone carved with runes.  Phillippe’s face remained slack, the eyes untenanted, crippling the joy I had momentarily found here.  I recalled myself to the business at hand, and turned to Amberyn.  “Which way to this village you mentioned?”

“A full day’s ride,” he answered.  “
We will travel with the sun and then seek a hiding hole for the night.  By midday tomorrow we should arrive.”

“
We’d make better time traveling at night.  Holes are for moles and foxes.”

He looked at me with solemn eyes before he answered.  “If it were only a matter of avoiding mischievous ghost lights and thorn welding pixies, I would push through.  But there
have been recent reports of Dar’kyn in the area.”

A chill of apprehension slithered down my spine.  “
Dar’kyn?  I don’t know that word.”

“Dark
Elves; they who have broken faith with the spirit of the forest.  Instead of serving nature, they bend her to their will.  They have grown so corrupt that the old magic will not answer them.  They can even handle weapons of cold iron.”

“And what is the danger
if they find us?  You and the unicorn are quite formidable.”

“Their iron would break my spells.  And though they cannot draw upon the magic of the Green, they have found a living darkness to serve that empowers them strangely.  I and the unicorn would certainly be hard pressed, even without safeguarding you.  We could even die.”

The unicorn snorted with contempt at the idea. 

Amberyn went on, “And if they took you in the heat of battle, you would be enslaved and used for their pleasures--not an enjoyable fate.  Only your son would be safe.”

I could not follow his logic.  “Why would they spare my son, but no one else?  And how can you die if Death cannot come to this world?”

“They would see your son as mad, and
Dar’kyn value the insane, seeing them as those specially touched by the Darkness they worship.  As for death in Avalon, I use the word loosely.  My body would certainly die, but my soul would merge with the forest, gathered in by the eternal Green.”

“What would happen to a human soul released here?” 
My curiosity knew no bound, confronted with so much that was utterly new.  “Might I become a daisy?”

He shrugged.  “I do not know, but we are safe until sunset when
the Dar’kyn emerge to hunt.  Let us hope we find shelter in time, otherwise, we will have to risk a cold camp and whatever the night brings.”

My stomach grumbled loudly to remind me I had neglected it for days, swallowing only broth my father had made for Phillippe and me.

Amberyn laughed.  “I have bread and cheese in the other saddlebag if you need to break your fast.” I did not trust myself to turn upon the saddle, stay balanced, and untie the bag, so I simply looked at him.

He sighed his way into a smile.  “Regain your health quickly,

White Rose.  I have no fondness for playing servant.”

I smiled sweetly as he broke out the rations.  “But you do it so well.”

He ignored me, and put food in Phillippe’s hand.  I was about to tell him “that will do little good” when, to my amazement, my son ate with studious attention to the task.  I approved.  He had been growing dangerously thin.

I ate with enthusiasm, barely pausing when Amberyn vaulted up behind me in the large saddle.  We could not have been much closer.  I drew comfort from that nearness, and said nothing when he slipped an arm around me to hold me in place.

There were no reins to gather.  The unicorn seemed to know what was expected of him, and complied promptly.  We kept to a walk that matched Phillippe’s pace.  The slowness aggravated me, but it
could not be helped.  I would
have given nearly anything for an extra mount at that moment and a rope to lash my son in the saddle. 

My father’
s oft-repeated words came to me:
What cannot be changed must be endured
.  Knowing that truth, I set my heart to gracious acceptance.

“
Does this animal of yours have a name?” I inquired.

“I call him Ty’hrall.  God alone knows what he calls himself,” Amberyn said. 

I swallowed a chunk of bread.  “What does Ty’hrall mean?”

“It is
Elvin for ‘He-Who-Hogs-All-The-Grass.”

The unicorn stopped and swung his long neck to give Amberyn a one-eyed stare and whicker of protest.

I stifled a laugh so as not to offend the noble beast.  “What does the name
really
mean?”

“Thunder-That-Breaks-Wind,” the elf said.

“All that from one word?”  I let my face display suspicion as I tore loose another chunk of bread.

“Thunder,” Amberyn said.  “It just means Thunder.”

“That name fits him well enough.”  I popped another morsel into my mouth and proceeded to choke upon it as a strange voice echoed inside my head.

Of course it does.  The sound of my hooves drives terror into the hearts of the wicked everywhere I run!

He talks?  Though dazed with astonishment, I managed to clear my throat of obstruction and croak for water.  Amberyn handed it to me.  I drank mightily, feeling my strength and energy building dramatically.  Old pains, and the helpless anguish I had felt for so long, drained away.

I looked for my son, but did not see him.  “Where is Phillippe?” I asked.

“Hmmm.  That is odd,” Amberyn said.  “My connection to him seems to have been sheered clean away, but he cannot be far.  You stay here.”  The elf dropped lightly to the ground and ran ahead.  The unicorn stayed to guard me.  I listened intently and heard the trickle and splash of water.  Oh, please tell me he has not fallen face first into a stream. 

“Please, go on!” I begged
Ty’hrall.

The animal broke into a trot, and darted between two widely spaced trees.  He turned to follow a downward slope of ground.  We found Amberyn at the edge of a stream that could not be more than five feet across and ankle deep.  The elf had his sword out, yelling belligerently at the water’s rippled surface.  “Give him back!  I will not ask you a second time.”

I slid to the ground and ran forward.  My heart quailed with fear as I saw my son submerged, flattened in some strange trick of perspective and reduced by a distance that was not possible in so shallow a stream.  A girl with blue hair and skin, and large silver eyes held Phillippe tenderly, like an oversized doll.  She wore a dress of water weeds and had a water lily in her hair.

As with the unicorn, I heard her thoughts. 
He is mine.  I found him.  He is pretty and I am keeping him.

8. THE LOST TOMB

I threw myself past Amberyn, toward the water.

He caught
and forced me down at his feet, glowering.  “Are you trying to get yourself killed, lass?  Elementals are nearly as dangerous as elves!”

My voice burst forth as a shriek. 
“You have to get him out of there!”

“Easy, lass,” Amberyn said.  “I know what to do.”

He knelt, keeping a hand on me so I could not go after my son.  He set his sword aside, placed his hand against the earth of the bank, and muttered a low-voiced invocation.  I nearly demanded the import of what he did, but thought better of distracting him at so vital a moment.

My gaze returned to the stream where Phillippe’s flattened image wavered just beneath the surface, in the clutches of some strange girl. 
The sight of my son suffering no distress from submersion allowed me hold onto self-control.  He stared vacuously as always, and appeared to have no difficulty breathing.  What had Amberyn called her, an elemental?  That seemed to imply she was a water nymph of some kind.  Perhaps the water itself was obedient to her will.

Of course, that could change quickly, depending on the elemental’s mood!

Amberyn’s efforts bore sudden fruit as the stream bed turned murky and a cluster of roots burst up into the water, and wound around the water-dweller and my son.  Both were thrust out of the water, acquiring all their proper dimensions. 

How dare you!  Let me go!  At once!
  The elemental’s thoughts were sharp with displeasure, resounding in my head as she struggled to rip free of the growth that tangled her limbs and torso.  She tore at her restraints, and lost hold of my son.

Unable to force her way free, she grew still.  Her eyes rolled back in her head
, and the stream spat a geyser to blast her loose.  That strategy failed as well.  The water reformed as liquid snakes around her.

Amberyn continued to chant
words that leaped like fire from his tongue, imploring further help from the surrounding trees.  Distracted, his hold on me fell away.

My body responded before I fully realized it was up to me to defend us both
—I rolled my back across his, landed on Amberyn’s other side, and snatched up his sword. I was unsure of what use the blade would be against animated water.  Still, the sword was elf-forged silver with runes etched along its length.

I slashed just behind two serpent heads, detaching them from undulating bodies.  The fanged heads fell as shapeless water, soaking my skirts and feet.  Though shocked by the cold drenching, I kept the blade in motion as new heads sprouted where the old had been.

The elemental watched as roots passed Phillippe to nearby tree branches that wove a protective cage around him.  She bawled in outrage, but calmed almost at once, staring at nothing.  Her body turned liquid, and splashed back into the stream.

Amberyn swept me back with an arm.  “Run!”

I scrambled toward the safety of the looming forest.  The next thing I knew, something slashed across my back with more force than I thought possible, ripping through my clothes, bouncing me violently off of a tree trunk.  I cried out as the world washed away in a sea of red agony, and fought to stay conscious, needing to see what was coming next. 

Somehow, I still held Amberyn’s
silver sword in a tight fist, but my arm trembled from the effort of lifting it in defiance.

From the corner of my eye, I noted that Amberyn remained on the ground, knocked unconscious.  The battle
now rested entirely on my unsteady shoulders.  I forced myself up and braced my aching back against rough bark.  The pain I felt sharpened, but added to my focus.  I breathed deeply and moved my free hand to the sword hilt, to form a double grip.

The blade no longer wavered.  I would not let it!
  Phillippe hung in the nearby trees, vulnerable as the day I bore him. I would defend him with my final breath.  Enraged, I hurled my thoughts like stones, hoping the elemental would understand. 
Vindictive bitch!  You must kill me to take my child, and I will not make it easy.

The blue-skinned girl rose, balanced upon a
shimmering fountain of water.  She leaped onto the bank with serpents of water winding around her, a slithery net of protection as she advanced, her eyes locked on my face.