The Revenge of the Elves (6 page)

Chapter Eight

“Follow me. Quickly, “ Queen Esta said, hurrying toward the wall at the rear of the chamber.

She placed her hands flat against the tapestry hanging in front of her and pushed into it with the weight of her body. Pointing her slipper, she forced the slight indentation in the floor board deeper and drew the tapestry to the side. A whooshing sound followed her action and a musty smell permeated the room. A passageway loomed just inside.

“If Sidra has directed you to do this, then there is no question I will assist you!” she said, sailing through the opening.

Tomas and Elion followed her out of the library into the darkness beyond.

“Yes, I have known her for many tiels now,” she answered Elion’s previous question. “When my husband died, she was my source of strength. I didn’t ask her to help me. I didn’t express my need. She came nonetheless and she stayed with me until I was strong enough to do the things that were required of me. We grew quite close,” she recalled. “And I learned more in those weeks than I had in many years prior.”

“You didn’t mention her to us,” Elion said.

Esta spun around, her skirts snapping, and looked at him. “Should I have? There are many things we have not yet spoken of.”

“Of course there are. I didn’t mean that in the way it sounded,” he replied.

“No offense taken, Prince.” Raising her chin, she turned and continued deeper into the room. “Sidra is a unique woman. I know more about her than many, and I too know very little. But one thing I’m certain of and I have been since the moment we met, is that she is a person I can trust with anything.”

Reaching upward, she ignited a small torch that hung recessed in the wall. A winding stairway appeared just ahead of them. She reached back, pushed the doorway behind Tomas until it closed with a click and walked past him to the steps.

“Come,” she beckoned.

They followed her up the carved stairs to the room above. It had no windows and no doors other than the one through which they climbed. The room was unadorned and the floor too was bare and unfinished. Smooth, black stone paved the walls and lay beneath their feet as well. The flickering light rising from below was diffused by their bodies and cast large shadows across the chamber as they emerged through the opening. They could not see the ceiling in the semi-darkness but the room felt secure.

“This was built by my husband when the castle was first constructed. He laid many of the stones himself. Few left alive know of this place.” Esta looked from left to right. “I have not been in here in a long, long time.”

The room was octagonal and about thirty paces from end to end. Walking to the middle of it, Esta lit the round fixture suspended from the ceiling and the room came alive. The stone work was seamless and impressive. Black as black could be, the rock glittered as if lit up from within. Neither Elion nor Tomas had ever seen its type before.

“Yes, it is unusual!” Esta explained without being asked. “My husband felt that if the sun was never going to shine inside this room, then it would need to have a luminosity all its own. He polished most of these himself. Beautiful, aren’t they?” she said.

“Why did he construct it in the first place? What purpose did it serve?” Elion asked. A room with no windows, shut away from the world.

“He used to visit Pembar often. You have heard the tales?” She didn’t wait for them to answer but continued on with her story. “Once, after he returned from a long sojourn into the Winding Woods, he advised me he needed to build a place of safety where he and I could go in the event we were imperiled. It struck me as quite odd at the time because Altair was a haven in those days. I recall wondering why he was suddenly being selfish about only our welfare. He was ordinarily such a socially conscientious man.”

“Seramour too was safe then, my Lady,” Elion recollected.

“Our world was a different place indeed,” she agreed. “And Pembar was much more communicative all those tiels ago, still almost human. He was a force then. And although my husband never specifically told me what they discussed, he led me to believe this chamber was his suggestion. He valued his opinion, and took his words to heart. As it turned out, he was rather prescient.” Esta walked toward a group of high backed chairs and gestured for them to join her. “There is no reason for us to stand here and talk. Come. Sit.” After they were seated and facing each other, she continued. “I found it difficult the first time I entered this room. It felt detached and apart from the energy of life, orphaned so to speak. The feeling unsettled me and I was very apprehensive. But as soon as we closed the door and lit the lights, the warmth the stone generated dispelled my concerns. The blocks were hewn from a quarry within the Winding Woods themselves.”

“Ah, so that accounts for why we have never seen any like them before,” Elion said.

“Yes, there are none like them,” she replied and turned to Tomas. “You are so quiet? Is everything alright?” Esta asked.

“Yes. Fine. I was just admiring the stone myself,” he replied. “It glitters as if a piece of the Gem was inside it.”

“When the lights are extinguished, it continues like this for a while. I used to stay here until it faded, though it made me sad when it was gone,” Esta told them. “There are a few such places of safety throughout the land.”

“I found one in the cave Preston led us to,” Tomas said.

“Yes, and I know of some in other cities as well,” the Queen replied. “They will be useful in the days and months ahead. I will share the locations with you before you depart.”

“Did your husband know then that Caeltin’s sight could not penetrate these walls?” Elion asked.

Esta dipped her head in acknowledgment, impressed at his observation. “The Dark One didn’t figure so prominently into our plans in those years. Though we knew how dangerous he was, his power was less obvious and he manifested it differently than he does today. The threat was less specific, less direct. I didn’t live with it in my awareness as I do today. My husband suspected Pembar had something more important in mind when he suggested the construction of this room,” she remembered. “He so rarely intervened in the world by then. But as I think about it now, he must have known. As with many things, he wished not to unsettle me any more than was necessary at the time.”

“It’s fortunate he took you into his confidence with regard to its whereabouts at least,” Elion said.

“There was little he kept from me that was truly important Prince,” she responded as if hurt by the implication of Elion’s comment. She would not tolerate her relationship with her husband being sullied by friend or foe. “He did desire that my mind remain clear and unencumbered by fear. He believed decisions were better made when one could reason without undue worry.”

“You loved him very much,” Tomas remarked.

“Yes, I did. I do,” she paused for a moment, her thoughts far away. “Filaree and I are his legacies. He would have felt and spoken the same way about us had our deaths preceded his.” She shook her head with certainty. “But now we must deal with more important things!” Esta said, slapping her thigh with her beringed hand and putting her memories away once again. “Sidra asked you to come here to perform a task she could or would not perform herself. We’re safe here. So how can I help?”

“She told us she wouldn’t converse directly with the Chosen,” Elion said.

“She said it was impossible for her to do so, though she didn’t tell us why. It was odd the way she spoke about their loyalty too,” Tomas recalled. That comment had bothered him then and he was reminded of it again now.

“That of the Chosen?” Esta’s interest was piqued.

“Yes,” they replied in unison.

Sidra’s concerns disturbed Elion as well. “She made a distinction between being true to the Lalas and true to the earth. I always believed they were one and the same,” he said.

Esta pursed her lips and folded her arms across her chest. “This is a serious differentiation, though Sidra has never accepted the preeminence of the trees the way most of us have.”

“Is it possible we have reached a moment in time when our purposes and those of the Lalas are no longer the same?” Elion asked, shifting in his seat. “I’m unaccustomed to thinking in such terms.”

“The trees are dying. They’re leaving the earth and we shall inherit all that is left behind as long as we can stop Colton from destroying it. We must learn why they are willing to depart at this juncture, and we must fill the vacuum their absence creates,” Esta said, pounding the arm of the chair with her fist. “They are not telling us what to do. They are not telling us why they are departing. The grand scheme, if there is one, may never be known to us. But anything is possible and we must prepare in whatever ways we can.”

“Your daughter has inherited your perspective, my Lady. She is as practical as you. But what confuses me is the role of the Chosen in this. Robyn seemed not to know anymore than we do about the Lalas’ deaths.” Elion looked at her sideways, hoping she could shed some light on this.

“We must ask them about it,” Tomas said. “We have to try and understand what we can expect of them in the times ahead. I am a Chosen. I know as little as you do. It’s no surprise Robyn knows nothing more.”

“Tomas? Why haven’t you asked Ormachon?” Elion questioned. He rarely intruded into the relationship between the two of them, but this time he felt it necessary.

Tomas flinched. His face colored. “I haven’t because… because I couldn’t. Since the last meeting with the Chosen before we arrived here I’ve avoided thinking about our next encounter. I’m worried Elion, very worried,” he confessed. “Ormachon may have planned what occurred in the mountains, or at least hoped it would happen as it did. Finally I believe he didn’t betray me as I had feared, or at least not in the way I feared. But he’s keeping things from me. He was distant when I was with him last and I knew then that things had changed. Really changed. I’ve been trying to prepare for whatever I might learn, for whatever his reasons are, and it’s not been easy.” The confession should have relieved him, but his face was still strained.

“Do you fear the relationships between the Chosen and the trees are changing too? Do the others share your concerns?” Esta asked.

“I don’t know. My relationship has changed, that I’m sure of.”

“Has there ever been a Chosen who broke the bond?” Elion inquired. “Is it possible to do?”

“A renegade, you mean?” Esta questioned.

“Perhaps. Or one who was simply no longer up to the task for reasons of health or spirit,” Elion said.

“Why do you ask that?” Tomas inquired.

“If one must break the bond, is it possible?” Elion pressed. “Would a Chosen die under those circumstances?”

“It has happened, though it’s unusual. I know of two such occurrences,” Esta replied. “One was well documented and you’ll recollect it too if you think back. Everyone knows of him.”

“Aracon in the city of Nescon!” Tomas said.

“Of course!” Elion recalled. “Though he didn’t exactly break the bond. He thought he was more powerful than his Lalas,” he added. “Who was the other?”

“He is spoken of infrequently. Paras was his name and he was bonded to a tree, Carthane, in a very remote part of the world. He contracted an illness none could cure him of, and though he had many tiels to live after finding out about it, he believed he wouldn’t be able to perform the functions required of him. He asked that the bond be broken, he was released and was supposed to live out the rest of his life in the monastery at Praxis,” Esta explained.

“Supposed to?” Elion questioned.

“Well, some say he did, and others say he disappeared many years later, never to be heard from again,” Esta replied.

“And you, my Lady? What do you believe?” Elion asked, intrigued.

“What I believe is irrelevant here,” she said, dismissing his question, but Elion suspected she had her own opinion on the matter and that it was particularly relevant. He was unsure why she was reluctant to share it.

“So we know it’s possible,” Elion concluded. “One can break the bond and live.”

“Why are you asking me this? You want me to consider it? Break my bond with my tree? Why?” Tomas shuddered. “It’s more than an oath, Elion. It’s much more.” He shook his head and grimaced. “I can’t imagine…”

“I just wanted to know if it was possible. We have many things to consider and it’s prudent for us to understand what the options may be. We can’t know what the Lalas are actually thinking, and we can’t know what choices may be foisted upon us all. You’ve said that yourself Tomas.” This was difficult for Tomas to hear, and Elion was aware of that, but he had to say it. “What we do know is that your brother must find the Gem before Caeltin does. That’s definite or there’s little chance for anyone. The trees may not know any longer how best to help us while they’re attempting to preserve their own lives, if in fact that’s even what they’re doing. The Gem affects them profoundly though. That much we are sure of. It may be that their paths and ours are diverging. That’s why it makes sense to converse with the others. You must hear how the rest of the Chosen feel,” Elion said.

Tomas pressed his hands to his temples. Elion moved to make sure he was okay but Tomas held up his palm to keep him away.

“We have to share these difficult thoughts,” the boy agreed. “When I believed Ormachon betrayed me I could hardly stand it. I didn’t think I had the strength to deal with it. The bond is so powerful and it’s physical, not just emotional. We’re tied together in many ways, and yet it seemed as if I could not have faith in it any longer. Everything was pulled out from under me, everything I believed in, relied upon. The speculations of the others gave me comfort.” He leaned back into the soft cushions and dropped his arms to his sides. “But they were just speculations.”

“Use the ring, Tomas. Call them,” Elion urged him.

“Yes,” Esta agreed.

Tomas looked up at the sparkling stone wall and nodded in agreement.

“Should we leave you alone?” Elion asked.

“No. I have no secrets from you. The ties that bind us grow more secure each day even as all the others weaken. They’ll understand. They must understand.”