The Five Elements (22 page)

"I found this one, yes. And now, I intend to find the others or, rather, retrieve the others, for I already know where they are."

"How? Who are you, really? Are you one of these elementalists? Or are you a druid?"

Erlek snorted. "I am neither. If I were, I would have no use for you, now would I?" He must have seen the confusion in Shanna's face, for he said, "Let me speak plainly. I am no sorcerer of the earth. I am a scholar, a man of science, if you wish."

Shanna remembered the laboratory equipment. The crucibles, beakers, flasks, and tubules running up the table and into Corrin, who'd been drained of his life, his very essence gathered and used for—used for what? When first she'd seen Erlek, he'd been the quintessential old man, with slow step, bent back, and hobbled gait. Now, he was… renewed. Shanna glanced at the dark lacquered door, closed now, then at the Element, and finally at Erlek. She crossed her arms, clenching them tight at her chest. What was she doing here? How did she get herself into this?

Oblivious to her discomfort, Erlek went on. "I have spent my life searching through lost lore, hunting down every shred of evidence I could find concerning the Elements. The entire telling is laborious. Suffice to say it was a long, time-consuming process of researching and cross-referencing. I have traveled to the great libraries of Penlar and of Gert, sifted through the sands at the ruins of Ureldale and Minsa Kirth, trod the swamps of Gereleth and the ancient palace of the Thog. Made deals with sitheri, dwarves, eslar. Suffice to say that discovering the whereabouts of the devices was not easy. But it was accomplished."

"That's all very nice, but I still don't understand why you're telling me any of this or even why I'm here," Shanna said.

Erlek took another sip of his tea. "The answer to that question is something I would prefer to ease you into, but, again, since time grows short, I shall simply come out with it and hope your fortitude is sufficient." He leaned forward, laying his hands flat on the desk as his gaze probed for hers. Shanna met that stare, though looking into those steel gray eyes sent a chill dancing across her spine. "Let me first say this. Fate is a strange mistress. Why she chooses to bring together two people from two different walks of life so that they suddenly find themselves in a room talking over tea is both a mystery and a wonder. You, Shanna, are here because the blood of elementalists courses through your veins. You are here because you may very well be the last who can summon forth the power of the Four Elements." Erlek paused a moment, then he leaned back. "I spoke earlier of a partnership. This then is the reason: I have the Element, but cannot use it. As I have said, I am neither elementalist nor druid. But I am trained in the many disciplines of the mind. I can teach you how to master this Element and the others also, for we are on a quest to retrieve all of the devices."

Shanna let out a breath. Of all the man had said, one thing rang out above the rest.
The blood of elementalists courses through your veins.
It wasn't true. How could it be? She wasn't anyone's descendant… well, she was
someone's
descendant, but that her ancestors were elementalists? It was ridiculous. She was an orphan, a nobody, born into a life of serving others, of working in the kitchens and, of late, making… soap. Stirring boiling oils. Mixing scents whose every whiff made her sneeze. Doing every little thing Nora asked of her else she suffer a cut in her already miniscule pay.

In Norwynne she'd been chained to a life she hated. But she wasn't in Norwynne anymore. She was in the most unpredictable of locales, being told impossibilities. Impossibilities that she believed. Not because of Erlek's words, but because she'd felt the Element, sensed the change within her from that very first moment she'd drawn near to it. She could deny it all she wanted, but, still, it was there. She looked over at the bowl. It was something you ate or drank from, not some all-powerful artifact that she of all people could control. The whole notion was laughable. The more she thought about it, the more she was struck by the sheer hilarity of it. Soon, she was smiling. It
was
funny. She giggled. She put her hand to her mouth, trying to stop herself, but her attempt was only half-hearted, and soon her mirth was rolling from her uncontrollably.

Erlek was not amused. Though his expression was a blank slate, there was a lift at one corner of his brow that was enough to signify his displeasure. Shanna made no effort to stop. Let the old whatever-he-was be annoyed. He deserved that and more. Much more. In that moment, a revelation hit her, and Shanna knew what she had to do. Her laughter petered out, and she spoke.

"You mentioned a partnership."

Erlek's brow lowered, replaced by a narrowing that Shanna interpreted as increased scrutiny. After a few moments of silence, he said, "Yes, a partnership. In exchange for your obedience, I will allow you your freedom. I will teach you the use of this Element and, when we have retrieved the others, those as well."

"And if I don't agree?"

"Such a discussion is not conducive to our arrangement. Only agree to help me and we need never speak of such… unpleasantries."

Shanna knew what those unpleasantries might entail. Either a quick death at the hands of the sitheri or a slow, painful one in Erlek's laboratory. Such choices made her decision easier, but they also didn't matter, for she'd already made up her mind. "I accept."

"Good. Very good." Erlek rose. His attention no longer on Shanna, he started to shuffle through one of the desk drawers. "Now, leave me. We shall speak again later this day. At that time, we shall begin your training. You have much to learn and little time to learn it."

Though dismissed, Shanna wasn't done yet. She still had questions. Erlek, or rather his boy, had used the Element to attack her home. The savant had said as much earlier in the wagon. But he'd not said why. Even with what she knew now, there seemed no reason for it. It seemed a simple thing to answer, and so Shanna asked, "Why did you attack Norwynne? Why did you kill all those people?" She remembered the bodies, floating lifeless in the underkeep pool. Also, she remembered the man, on the rooftop of Graggly's Tower, come to kill Aaron. Erlek had asked about Aaron. "Did you send an assassin, too?" she asked before realizing that by doing so she was admitting that she knew Aaron.

Erlek stopped what he was doing. His gaze returned to her. "Assassin? I sent no assassin, I can assure you of that. As for the rest, it was unavoidable. There were—are—individuals who would seize the Elements for their own use. Elsanar of Norwynne was one such person. Much like the druids had sensed the presence of the Elements those hundreds of years ago when the artifacts were first created, there are those in our own world who have attuned themselves to certain Earth energies and who can thus sense the presence of such devices. Call it a pre-emptive strike, for the moment I had otherwise used the Element, Elsanar and his coterie would have been on me, ready to seize it. That is something I could not allow."

"Then others—other sorcerers—will be coming too."

"Yes, possibly. If we do not move swiftly, most definitely. In any case, we must be ready for them."

"Where are we going then?"

"We go to a place called Cauldron Mountain. There, we shall retrieve the Element of Fire."

"When are we leaving?"

"My girl, we've already left."

The excitement must have been plain on Shanna's face, for Erlek wasted no time gesturing at the door. Shanna seized the opportunity, fleeing the room without a single glance over her shoulder.

The passage outside was empty. Shanna wondered if she shouldn't wait here for Mirna, but then she thought better of it, figuring they'd find each other eventually. Eager to witness their flight, Shanna made straightaway for the upper deck while she played out her conversation with Erlek in her mind. In particular, she mulled over what the man had said about her heritage. She'd laughed about it, but if it were all some sort of joke, what was she doing here? Why was she still alive? The question brought with it the enormity of her situation. She had to stop as a chill of fear swept through her. Several deep breaths did not dispel it. She was never meant for this. She wasn't strong enough, wasn't brave enough.

Stop it!

She
was
strong enough
and
brave enough. She'd been both her entire life. Nothing had ever been given to her. She'd outsmarted or manipulated or fought for everything she'd ever had. Icy fear lay on her skin like a sheet, but it went no further. With a shake, it was gone. The path before her was clear. Erlek had used the Elements to destroy her home. Now she'd use them to destroy
him
.

Erlek Abn Nee was going to die.

I
T TOOK SOME DISTANCE—A league, Aaron figured—before the wind and the rain finally smothered the piercing, mournful song of the dogs. Aaron was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to find someplace warm and dry to curl up and rest. For once, Ensel Rhe obliged him, though he insisted they trudge across several more leagues before he finally stopped in front of a dark hole hidden beneath tangled brush. The eslar swept the opening clear and, stooping, entered the cave. Aaron would have followed right behind him except that it was
too
dark. He remained crouching just far enough inside to protect himself from the worst of the rain until a spark and then a small flame enticed him in deeper. Master Rhe had been here before, for already there was a shallow fire pit dug and a stack of enough dry wood to last several nights. At its brightest, the fire was small, but then so was the cave. It was dry, though, and soon warm enough. With the almost pleasant sound of rain falling outside, Aaron started to feel a small amount of comfort with their new surroundings, but not enough to chase away memories of the hounds.

"I don't like dogs," he said, as if the words might purge him of the last of his lingering fear. He jabbed one end of a stick into the fire, then tossed it into the flames and watched it burn.

"C'en dun, daegs w'me."

Aaron looked across the fire. The eslar's gaze remained lost in the flames.

"That's krill," Aaron said. Krill. Cat-people. Aaron attempted a translation. "When I…" He didn't know Krill, but he'd studied the phonetics of the Vem and knew Kernecian. Both were similar. "When done, dogs… no, when I am done…" Aaron sat up. "When I am done, the dogs will come for me." A belch of thunder rattled the cave. When its noise had faded, Aaron asked, "What does it mean?"

"It means," Ensel Rhe said, settling against the wall as he stretched his legs before him, "that I do not like dogs, either."

"Do you think the savant, Erlek, sent them?" It seemed a stupid question, for Aaron was already quite certain he knew the answer, though Master Rhe indulged him anyway.

"Yes," the eslar said. "I've no doubt of it. Clearly, he was not pleased with your escape from the city."

Aaron took no satisfaction from that. Not wanting to think about the dogs anymore and figuring they'd already exhausted what they knew about the savant, Aaron decided to change the subject. "You spent time amongst them, didn't you? The krill, I mean."

"Why would you think that?"

"Because it's the only explanation for the way you jumped off that balcony and survived and you've hardly slept since this whole thing started and not once have I seen you so much as yawn and—"

"Spending time amongst the krill explains none of those things. Only those born krill can be krill. I am eslar. Besides, in order to have spent time with them, I would have had to have entered their lands. The krill suffer trespassers only as long as it takes to kill them, which is not very long."

"Yes, but I know what's said of the krill. Or, at least, what's been written."

"Oh?"

"There was a book in Master Elsanar's library. The author attended a trade day held at the fringes of their territory. While there, he documented some of his observations. Cat-people never lose their balance, they can fall great distances without injury, they never really sleep, at least not like we… not like I do, but instead nap frequently. Also…"

"Yes?"

"The book said the krill have more than one life."

"Really?" said Ensel Rhe, one brow rising. "How many lives do they have then?"

"Nine, like a cat."

One side of Ensel Rhe's mouth turned up. It was the closest thing to a smile Aaron had ever seen on him.

"Most of that is true, except for the bit about extra lives. Krill have no more than the single life we are each given. I can assure you of that much."

Wanting to keep the conversation alive, Aaron was mindful of the silence that built up as he took a moment to settle himself in order to rest his back against the cave wall. In the process, he managed to jab the hilt of the knife given to him by Master Rhe into his side. He grunted, then pulled the sheathed blade from his belt and set it on his lap. When his gaze returned to Ensel Rhe he saw that the eslar's gaze had drifted from the fire to the knife.

"Thank you for this," Aaron said. "I'm afraid I've not had much chance to use it." Which wasn't necessarily a bad thing, Aaron thought. He ran his hand along the bone sheath. "Not that I know how to, anyway."

"There is not much to know. At its simplest, keep a firm grip and slash. If your opponent comes too close, jab."

Still, the eslar's gaze had not left the weapon. Aaron thought perhaps he wanted it returned to him. He asked, holding the knife up. But Master Rhe only shook his head.

"No. Best you keep it. Just in case."

Aaron lowered it, but only halfway. On a whim, he drew the knife from its sheath. Light from the fire danced across the blade as he realized he'd not really examined the knife or its housing before now. The sheath was polished bone, simple and strong. The blade, double-edged and razor sharp. Aaron knew nothing of how to wield such a weapon. That much was true. But he knew metallurgy, it having been one of his subjects. The blade had been pattern welded. Steel alloy combined with nickel or a similar substitute, the telltale sign being the distinctive waving pattern across the flat of the blade. Fitted into a bone handle wrapped with leather, it was not the weapon of a mercenary but of an aristocrat or someone similarly wealthy, who wore it for show most times, but who might use it if the need arose. Holding one finger out, Aaron positioned the knife horizontally. He balanced it with little effort.