The Revenge of the Elves (29 page)

Chapter Thirty-nine

“Pithar has little time left,” Blodwyn said, her fist balled around her staff “I sense it. He slips away as we speak.”

“Marathar is so weak. His song has already stopped. It will be soon, I agree,” Liam replied. “The circle gets ever smaller. Who will gather the shard?”

“Who remains?” Her words echoed around them both.
Who? Who? Who?
Worry lines ringed her thin lips. Marathar could never rest otherwise. His shard had to be retrieved.

“The Wizard is still alive. And we never expected the sister…”

She cut him off. “Why have you summoned me, Liam? Why me alone? Surely not to ask this question. Did we not agree we would meet at once when there was something important to convey?” Her senses reached out, waiting, expecting… “We can’t touch the heart. You know that.”

“It must be claimed,” he persisted.

“What has Dashiel said?” she asked. She watched his movements closely.
He has something else to tell me.

“He is not worried,” Liam replied.

“Then I shall not worry either,” her face relaxed, but her body was still poised and stiff. Dashiel had watched over these things since the death of the first Lalas.
Dashiel must have a plan and Liam knew this. He is stalling.
“This is not the reason you called me.”

“No,” he admitted. “But I wanted to talk to you, Blodwyn, without them present.” He faced her square on, feet apart, hands clasped behind his back. “You are calm. You are centered. I do not wish to raise false alarms or distract the others from their tasks when I am uncertain…”

“What is it that disturbs you?”
Now I will learn the truth.

“I kept things from the others, and from you, when last I reported to the group about Colton’s armies. I didn’t speak of Oleander’s comments to me,” he replied, his chin up.

“Go on…”

“After I sat in the woods outside of Sedahar and watched the enemy grow up out of the ground, Oleander spoke to me. He confessed that something serious disturbed him but he could not determine the cause. He perceived more in the Dark One’s behavior than he was able to tell me, more that would affect us.”

“The trees do not speak with certainty of many things.” She forced a steady breath.
Able to tell you? Or refused to?

“It was the way he spoke, Blodwyn…” Liam confessed, his posture no longer straight “…as if he knew something terrible was going to happen.” He bent and picked a leaf up from the ground. “Yesterday I watched the hordes march out of the valley toward Tamarand. I could not begin to count them, silent, lifeless monsters.” The leaf fell from his hand. “They will fight and they will die and it won’t matter to them. The battles themselves do not bring us closer to dissolution. The deaths and hardship serve only to weaken our resolve.” Liam’s head hung low.

“And in fact he seems to be succeeding in that, Liam. Listen to yourself!” she exclaimed. “Death alone will not satisfy him. It will not help him if the earth does not succumb. Everything will be reborn in one form or another as long as the Gem shines. You know that!” Blodwyn looked up. A drop of rain fell on her arm and she brushed it away.

“What of the people?” he asked. “How are they to remain hopeful? Oleander suspects something more sinister than a war. But because he can’t see as in the past, I sense in him exactly what you fear, Blodwyn, what you warned me of. I have come to you today because for the first time in my relationship with Oleander, I felt him weakening. I sense despair.” Liam hung his head. “He’s giving up. I know it. I could not share this with the others.” Lightning crackled overhead.

Blodwyn stroked his arm. “He’s going to leave us?” she asked. “To leave you?”
What will you do Liam? Is that what’s praying on your mind? Can I ask?

“I’m not sure,” he confessed. “But how am I to remain focused and hopeful when he is not? He has always been my inspiration and my teacher. What am I to learn from him now? What if….”

“Life is change, Liam.” The rain fell steadily now. “We must adapt and we must do so quickly. If the trees can no longer sustain us like they did in the past, then we must find the means to sustain ourselves. Can you imagine how the people would feel if they suspected the Chosen were beginning to abandon hope?”
Why tell me this, unless…

“That was why I needed to speak with you privately about this. I needed to speak with someone. I had no where else to go. Blodwyn?” His eyes implored her. “Oleander was… is my strength. But this is not something he and I can discuss. And some of the others…”

He’s thinking about it. About the bond. Dare I ask? I must.
“You recall, I’m sure, what Tomas mentioned when last we all met? How he questioned the bond?” She watched his chest heave, his muscles twitch.

“Yes. He wondered if it could be broken. The thought has not left me for a moment since then.” His face reddened.

“It may have been a more prescient concern than we realized at the time,” she said quietly. “What are our responsibilities as Chosen? Who are they to? To the earth and the living things that inhabit it. That’s what we were taught. That’s what the bond is all about. In the past, loyalty to the earth meant the same thing as loyalty to the Lalas.”
But it may not anymore.
Her skin went icy cold.

“But, it may no longer,” Liam echoed her thought.

Blodywn wiped the raindrops from her face. Thunder boomed. “Power, Liam. We have power, and we must use it.” The drops turned to a deluge. She raised her arm and the air shifted. A rippling wake spread out from her fingers and a canopy of light formed above her. The rain rolled off of it. “We must continue to lead and to fight. Choice is ours to make. Choice defines us.”

He joined her beneath it out of the storm. “What are you saying then? Should I consider abandoning the bond?” His breath came quick, his pupils tiny dots.

“Since the moment Tomas broached the issue, the prospect has become a part of our reality.”
And I think about it day and night.

“What news have you of Tomas, Blodwyn? And of Davmiran? It is with them that our best chances reside.”

“They both remain behind the shields Sidra has created for them. I pray she is what the boy believes she is. Robyn and Tomas have talked with their trees. They have found a means to do so even though they remain hidden.”

“You know this?” he asked, surprised.

“Yes. And Colton sends his armies against Concordia now, of all times? He fears him. He fears the heir. Why else?”

“The boy must find the Gem!”

“He must,” she agreed.
What if Ormachon chooses to leave? What of Tomas? The quest?
the terrible thought struck her.

“So many innocent lives…” Liam lamented.

“The people must continue to fight despite the odds. We must assist them, encourage them. It won’t be easy. But if they don’t resist, the Dark One will turn all of his attention to the Quest and to the twins. Power, Liam.” She spread her fingers wide and the canopy above expanded. The air beneath grew still, quiet. “We must use it now. Whatever Oleander fears, we must be prepared for. What is the Dark One planning that might shake the foundations of faith more than another assault upon an innocent city?”
And why won’t the trees fight? What do they know?
Her insides churned but her face remained cold, unruffled.

“He can’t harm the twins yet. He doesn’t know where they are. Tomas is strong. Very strong.” His voice wavered.

“Yet, Liam. He can’t harm them yet. But if we weaken further? What then?”
They are not standing against him. We must.
“In his arrogance, he’s assumes it’s the leaders who matter most. Maybe he will attack Promanthea or another of the Chosen,” Blodwyn suggested,

“A Lalas? Is he bold enough for that?” Liam stood up straight.

“Is he strong enough?” she shot back. “My fear is that the trees are not prepared for such a possibility. They contemplate other things.”
Like how to leave us,
she thought. “Will you stand with me Liam? If we are faced with a choice, will you stand with me?” I’ve said it. There’s no turning back. She flung her arm in the air and the canopy evaporated. The rain fell hard against their faces. Blodwyn leaned her head back and let it wash down her cheeks.

“Against the others?” he asked.

“Against any who threaten the earth,” she replied. She clutched her staff and slammed it against the ground. The earth shook and Liam stared at her. “You came to me with doubts. If the quest is at stake, I ask you now, will you stand with me?”

“Will I break the bond?” he stammered. “Will I let Oleander die alone if he chooses to depart?” Blodwyn stood motionless and watched him. A vein pulsed in his temple. His eye twitched. He turned and bowed his head.

“Yes,” he replied.

Chapter Forty

There was much these days to be concerned about, far too much. Davmiran’s thoughts flitted from one problem to another. It shouldn’t have seemed odd his mind was uneasy. But, this felt different. The shards, which he kept in the original pouch first given to him by Premoran, were tied to his belt wherever he went. When he slept, he did so with them under his pillow, his hand wound up in the strings. The ring hung from its thong around his neck as usual. He could feel them both always. Some days they spoke loudly and some it was just their presence he was aware of, but tonight they were uncommonly silent.

He reviewed the thoughts that concerned him, one by one, trying to pinpoint the cause of his distress, and it occurred to him that the absence of communication itself was what was bothering him. He had grown so used to it. He reached for the pouch and loosened the string. In the pitch dark, he could still see the outline of the objects within it. The sight of them comforted him. With his other hand, he grasped the ring. The cold radiated through his fingers.

Strange,
he thought.
Always warm. Not tonight. Not now.

Fumbling with the strings, he pulled the pouch open and spread the shards out on the bed. They glowed and illuminated the area around them, each a slightly different shape. Pulsating, they effused muted and varied colors, soft, soothing, but always shifting in hue, at times opaque, at others as dense and solid in appearance as the hardest of rocks. None longer than two inches and each conical, they were so much alike and yet so incredibly unique. With little to distinguish one from the next, he could identify each as if it had its name written upon it.

They held the memories of centuries, so powerful he lost himself within them. Cairn’s teaching’s prepared him. He couldn’t have done this before. He shielded his thoughts and viewed them from behind a mental screen where he could interact without losing control. He felt them tugging at him, drawing him in. The visions were intense. And he did live them. Worlds of memory opened up before him, crossing all boundaries of space and of time. He emerged from each encounter older, stronger, smarter… never the same.

These experiences drained him, but he was adept at it by now. They contained far too much for most minds to absorb. A mental wall rose up around him, solid and secure.

One of the shards was spinning on its pointed axis. Light bathed the walls of the room, dancing up and down, faster and faster. Pictures, images of days gone by, materialized and vanished. No judgments. Pure experience.

It was Acire’s shard that spoke the loudest. The Lalas’ essence was strong, its voice clear. He saw it all. A beautiful city, rivaling Gwendolen in size and majesty, empty of people, cracking and crumbling to ruin, spiraling towers of dust rising into the sky. Two figures stepped from the rubble, their backs to him as they walked away. Devastation behind them. He fought the sadness. He needed to see. Sorrow lurked behind the images every time, like an animal stalking its prey. He pushed it away.

When will there be joy again
, he wondered.

The ground shook. At least it seemed as if it did. These sensations were as real to him as anything could be. Rhythmic. He knew what it was. Acire’s heart, the center of the great Lalas’ being, was beating for the last time.

What are you trying to tell me?
he questioned.
Why must I see this?

He felt the tree’s exhaustion and the relief that accompanied it, a confusing jumble of emotions. The tree gave up, and though the decision that caused it to depart resonated within him, he still could not understand it. He witnessed Acire’s reconciliation with death, but was unable to find a reason for it.

You gave up for what, Acire? For what? I don’t understand.

Everything moved, shifted. He was rushing headlong down a dank and twisting tunnel! His balance fell away and nausea gripped him. Tumbling through space, blinded by the speed, he realized it was Acire’s consciousness he was astride.

His mind’s eye burst into a pool of liquid. Music played in his head, voices bombarded him and images flooded his brain, but they were not Acire’s alone. Other trees were there too. Many others. Their thoughts merged as if they were of one mind. Acire drank deeply of the water, sucked it in and it spread all around him, rushed over him, thoughts, memories, visions, all at once.
The stream of life
, he thought.
Beautiful. So beautiful.

Shock… horror. His breath flew from his chest. The blow sent him reeling. Acire recoiled and withdrew in an alarming rush. A taint upon the water! Certain. Tangible. Devastating. The Lalas’ consciousness flew backward, away from this place of revulsion. The darkness, the contamination, the emptiness rushed after him, but he outran it. He was faster. It couldn’t catch him. For now! He was safe for now. But, behind the relief of his escape lingered the knowledge of its presence in the world and of its burgeoning power, a knowledge that loomed over Acire’s thoughts like an opaque shroud over the sun.

Davmiran felt the threat, imminent, insistent. All at once he understood the consequences. He saw through Acire’s eyes what would become of the world if this engulfed him too. He drew back, frightened, alarmed, and then overcome by an inexplicable ache. At that moment, the great tree’s decision to depart became crystal clear.

He is afraid he will be unable to resist! He has no choice but to die!
There was more. In fleeting images that shook his soul, Davmiran saw the darkness spreading, seeping into the trees, coursing through their trunks and branches and foliage as they drank of the waters that sustained them. From one to the next it spread, their shields collapsing before its growing power. Acire’s greatest fear, realized in a vision! He betrayed the First and led the Dark One to it and to the Gem! A second vision flooded his senses; the youngling in Pardatha stretching out toward the waters, innocent, confident, anxious to meld with the others, unaware of the lurking danger.
No!
His head flopped against the pillow.

His eyes blinked open. The room was dark.
Can’t see anything.
Dav leaned over and lit the stub of a candle on his bed table.
Parth. Still in Parth
, he realized.

With the side of his hands, he shoveled the shards back into the pouch. They were silent and dull. He tied the string and attached it around his waist. The ring hung from its necklace, the metal cold against his chest. The scent of the Dark One permeated the room and in the glow of the candle he still saw the blackness rushing toward him. And then he felt it. Something entirely different. A blackness unlike any other, unlike even the Dark One’s essence.

So close to me. It came so close.
He steeled himself against the memory.

A horn blew somewhere in the tower. It blew again and he stood up and reached for some clothing to throw over his sleeping tunic. As he pulled his boot over his foot, someone knocked lightly at the door.

“Wake up, Dav,” Robyn dar Tamarand’s voice sounded from behind the barrier. “There’s a group at the gate.”

Dav opened the shutter on the wall and looked through the modest window. Three figures stood out against the backdrop of the woods, the morning sun highlighting them as they approached the Tower. He unlatched the door. “Tamara’s back.”

Robyn nodded.

“I hope she’s not too late,” Davmiran said.