The Revenge of the Elves (8 page)

“Yes, and we must share what we can as efficiently as possible,” Phero said. Pithar was unusually recalcitrant, even for him, and he worried this was indicative of worse to come. “Settle yourselves. Tomas has more to tell us and we are not giving him the opportunity. How much time do we safely have, Blodwyn?”

“Not much. We’ve wasted half of it already. Let’s get on with it. Tomas?” she looked at him.

“Let us join our minds together,” Liam suggested. “That would take the least amount of time.”

“Yes, let’s,” Dashiel agreed, moving to the center of the room.

“Come, Pithar. Take my hand,” Blodwyn encouraged him, reaching out to grab his balled up fist as the others gathered. “Perhaps such a melding will ease your tensions.”

“I do not wish to share my thoughts now, Blodwyn,” he replied, stepping away from her. “It’s dangerous,” he mumbled.

“Dangerous? You’re so afraid of this that you will spurn the link?” Dashiel asked. Something was truly amiss with Pithar, It was clear to every one of them.

“I find this extremely disagreeable. Shameful! Is it not bad enough the trees are dying? Must we also use their recent weaknesses as an excuse for deceiving them?” Pithar snapped.

“You attribute motives where there are none,” Edmond retorted. “We’re trying to move closer and you are pulling away. Linking will settle this. Why turn from it? What’s gotten into you?” Edmond knew him better than the others and he barely recognized him now.

“We have many issues to deal with, Pithar. The Lalas can’t help us with all of them. We must act on our own,” Connor said, trying to defuse the tension. “Do not avoid the link, Pithar. It could be beneficial.”

“Prince Elion asked me a question before this meeting gathered,” Tomas interrupted them. “He asked if any Chosen had ever broken the bond by their own will.”

“Why would anyone contemplate such a thought?” Harton asked exasperated.

“Yes, why?” Crea echoed sharply.

“He questions the bond?” Dashiel asked, growing concerned. Sidra’s power was intriguing and he had contemplated approaching her prior to this gathering. She would make a formidable ally if the stories were indeed true. But this disturbed him.

“He fears for me and for all of us. He thought of it as a way of saving a Chosen’s life if his or her tree should choose to depart,” Tomas defended him.

“He obviously knows nothing about the bond,” Harton glowered, blowing air out of his mouth. “Saving ourselves? How outrageous! Is that what this is about?” He sidled closer to Pithar.

“Would you ever consider abandoning Ormachon, Tomas? The prospect is impossible to contemplate.” Or was it? Blodwyn frowned, and long lines marked her forehead. These ideas were distressing.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about this since he said it to me. A year ago, I couldn’t even dream of it. Ormachon was everything to me, my family, my life, my blood. I didn’t have anything else,” Tomas confessed. “But since learning of my brother and of the things expected of us in the days to come, I am skeptical. If it becomes a choice between the earth and my bond, I’m not sure anymore.”

“Ach!” Pithar scowled. “He’s not sure!”

“How could that ever be a choice you will have to face?” Liam asked. “The bond is for life. There is no alternative.”

“Even when I believed Ormachon had betrayed me to the Dark One, I never thought about leaving him. But what happens to the Quest if Ormachon decides to die? What should I do? What’s my responsibility? What should we all do? The question’s been asked and it must now be addressed. I am different. I’m not like the rest of you,” he proclaimed, backing away from the group.

“No? You don’t think so? You were chosen just like we were.” Pithar’s fury was mounting. “Do you know what you are saying? I cannot speak of this any longer! You are filling our heads with thoughts that will destroy what we live for. She put these ideas into your head. She who refused the bond.”

“The boy has a point Pithar, though none of us may wish to see it. And his bonding was different. You know that. We know that,” Crea said, looking at the solemn faces surrounding him. Tomas felt his heart jump. It was the first time anyone had confirmed this. His bonding was different. He knew it too. “We have decisions to make,” Crea continued. “And we can’t sit idly by and let them be made for us. We must consider every option whether we like it or not. Who are we trying to help? Where do our responsibilities lay?”

“By doing nothing we are not meeting our obligations,” Edmond added. “Shall we let Colton force our hands each time? We are not puppets, we are Chosen!”

“What is occurring with the trees is unprecedented. They are not forthcoming. They are not sharing with us, any of us, as before. They separate themselves, however subtly, from us, not the other way around. Have you not felt it?” Dashiel asked. “Perhaps they are preparing us for a life apart from them. Perhaps…”

“That’s ridiculous!” Harton replied, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. “How could we live apart from our trees at this point? The bond is for life. This is not for us to negotiate like petty politicians squabbling over land rights!”

“Yes, but did any of you ever expect the Lalas would choose to die? Did any expect they would leave us and abandon the earth?” Tomas asked. His bonding was different. How? He could not get this thought out of his head.

“You should not speak so about your tree,” Pithar admonished. “There must be a design behind what they do. There must. Who are you to question them and upset us with this drivel?”

“And yet they do not tell us?” Connor inquired. “They allow us to wonder and to feel separate from them? What would they expect us to do? This may be by design as well. Think about that Pithar! Perhaps they want us to question things and they are unable to tell us directly for some reason.”

“We have never questioned their actions before. Why now? Why must we be suspicious of them?” Harton asked. He could not face such doubts. He was a man of faith, a true believer. “My tree would not do this to me. He would not.”

“We must question them!” Blodwyn whirled around. “I too feel the distance. It’s the things Lilandre refuses to discuss with me that concern me. And she will not explain why no matter how forceful I am in expressing my feelings, nor how I protest. It is our duty to try to understand what lies behind these silences. They speak as loud as any words could, and we must try and decipher their meanings.”

“You think the Lalas are forcing us to make these decisions? You think this is part of their plan? They want us to seek these answers? How could we benefit from discovering on our own what they already know?” Phero asked, staring up at the darkened ceiling. He was a man of the mind, a scholar before he became a Chosen, bonded late in life in comparison to the others.

“Let us link. We can share our thoughts more efficiently,” Edmond urged again.

Pithar stumbled away from the circle.

“You are still reluctant? Why?” Dashiel asked. “Have you something you wish to keep from us, Pithar? Your behavior causes me more concern than Tomas’ words.”

“I only wish to return to Marathar. He and I have had no such difficulties as the ones you seem to be so familiar with. I don’t require the answers you seek. Leave me be and let me go home,” he said, refusing to look at any of them. These protestations sounded plaintive and weary, not angry.

“But you can’t simply return. Your situation may reveal things to us, Pithar. If indeed you are the lucky one then share that good fortune with us,” Crea said.

“Lucky,” he snickered under his breath.

“Come Pithar,” Blodwyn reached out her hand but he hesitated. “Don’t do this. Please. We need to share,” she whispered in his ear. “We can’t be as effective if we don’t link. Give me your hand.”

Edging forward, Pithar grasped her fingers and the others each joined as well. The mind merge began instantly upon completion of the circle. Thoughts and images rushed from one to the other, flooding the minds of the Chosen. Their heart’s jumped at Tomas’ despair when he learned of his betrayal. Crea staggered and righted himself. Blodwyn gritted her teeth. Even Pithar recoiled at the sensations surging through him. He understood the boy. He felt what Tomas felt. Sharing this way brought them so much closer together. They took each other’s experiences for their own and remembered them in this way.

Visions passed from one to the next, unrestricted by words; sad ones and happy ones, tragedies and triumphs. News of the 11th shard and of Premoran’s escape from his brother’s clutches, visions of the shields Sidra created, Wayfair’s admonition to Tamara regarding the map, Blodwyn’s confusion and concern when Lilandre withdrew from her along with her tree’s worries about the fate of the map became common knowledge. Dashiel’s speculations that Tamarand was the Dark One’s next target blew over them like a chilled wind across naked skin. Edmond’s rejection by his Lalas when he questioned him about the new tree in Pardatha was equally disturbing. The joy the youngling’s birth brought to the trees and to the earth was clear and unmitigated and its image shone before their minds’ eyes. Farrow refused Harton’s entreaty regarding the whereabouts of the map and his suffering became theirs.

Colton loomed over the deliberations, an evil presence, and his essence bled into their thoughts, linked somehow to the Lalas’ reclusive silence. A great army of shadows rose in the south, an unnatural army, neither living nor dead, born of Colton’s anger and desire for revenge. The sounds pounded in their heads as the warriors flattened the earth. All the while, the ring burned in the background of each Chosen’s mind, branding their memories with its searing image.

The exertion was great and they were tiring. Blodwyn began to pull her mind back and the others followed. Before the link was broken, an evanescent thought, encapsulated though it was, escaped from Pithar’s consciousness despite his efforts to constrain it. Dashiel stood next to him and his head whipped back as if stricken. Liam gripped Edmond’s and Crea’s hands so tight their fingers cracked. The thought sped from one to the next, looming like a specter before each of them. Harton doubled over and wretched, while Liam choked on its bitterness as it came crashing through the barrier of his senses.

“You should have told us Pithar,” Crea struggled to form the words. “How long did you think you could keep this information hidden?”

“What possessed you Pithar?” Blodwyn echoed, astounded.

“You knew we’d learn of this soon anyway. Why Pithar? Why?” Tobias whispered, his eyes sad blue pools.

Pithar didn’t move. He stared at the ground in silence.

“Pithar! Look at us,” Liam pleaded.

He shifted his weight and lifted his chin. His skin was pale and pasty, and his bloodshot eyes brimmed with tears.

“When I learned of Marathar’s illness, even I could not accept it at first,” he spoke in a monotone. “I lived in denial for a long while. I could not eat or sleep. This knowledge has consumed me since.” He dropped his friend’s hands. “Listening to you talk about breaking the bond was too much for me to bear. I haven’t come to grips with this yet myself, and I wished to reconcile my feelings before sharing them with you. I didn’t want you to know,” he stared at Blodwyn. “Any of you. Not until I was stronger. I thought… I thought…” he forced himself to speak.

“I should have sensed it. I should have known,” Blodwyn admonished herself. “Can you forgive me, Pithar?” Her heart went out to him.

Another tree, another Chosen. None escaped the impact.

“We are your friends, your colleagues,” Crea said. “We can’t change things, but we can help you.”

Pithar dropped his head down. He’d lived with this knowledge and pain for sometime now, and it was wearing him out. His effort to conceal it was equally exhausting. “I chose to bear this burden myself, as it seemed less real that way. But I’m glad you know. I don’t feel so alone, so sad somehow,” he confessed. This was the hardest thing any Chosen could face, and it was happening too often of late.

“How long?” Edmond asked.

“He has not told me. He could not hide his decision from me any longer, though he will not speak to me of it. That is why I’m anxious to return home. I don’t know how much time we have left.”

“And we shall not keep you any longer than necessary,” Dashiel said. The news rocked them all profoundly. “He has told you nothing? You are to endure this… this situation, blind?” The unfairness of it hit him hard.

“It will be soon,” Pithar replied. “Very soon.”

“Go to him, Pithar. Each moment apart is a wasted one. I suffer with you. Everyone of us does,” Blodwyn said. Her thoughts leapt to Lilandre. The idea of this happening to her tree brought with it a great, bottomless dread.

“You couldn’t break the bond. I see how impossible that would be for you now. It’s too late. He’s made his choice, and you’re a part of it,” Tomas said.
Is it too late for us as well?
he wondered. “I’m sorry I forced you to think about it.” His thoughts reached out to Ormachon but he knew they could not pierce the stone walls of the room.

“Join him. First speed, Pithar!” Phero urged.

“Yes. Go!” Liam echoed. “We’ll finish up here without you. You’ve given us all you can.”

Pithar’s lips turned up in an ironic smile. His shoulders slumped and his arms hung at his side as if the life had been sucked from him. His silence lay heavily upon them, weighed down by uncertainty and despair. Tomas stepped before him, and bowed low.

“We will meet again,” he said directly to the boy. Their eyes locked upon each other’s.

“Yes, I know,” Tomas replied. The ring throbbed and he stared at Pithar. He saw Farrow’s end, Pithar’s sword thrust deep into the earth beside him, a million silver leaves falling like snow everywhere.

“May the Gem of Eternity light your way through the darkness ahead,” Pithar said.

“Be strong,” Blodwyn intoned. “Be brave. We shall always be near, Pithar. You need only call.”

“Thank you,” he said to Blodwyn. “Farewell my friends.”

He smiled a gallant smile. Sparkling brightly, his image blurred, then vanished from the chamber.

Chapter Nine

You did not succeed. You were not there to receive it.

“No. But it matters not. I advance nonetheless.” He shrugged his broad shoulders.

The sister no longer has possession of the map.

Colton’s eyes rose to the tree’s center but he feigned indifference. “As was expected. It’s disappointing, but I had other matters to attend to.”

Had you been there, perhaps it would be yours. Instead, it is in the hands of an elf.

“Details, that is all. My failures have as much of an effect upon the world as do my victories. You see that. You know. Does it frighten you, this lack of control?” he mocked.

It is the ultimate victory that eludes you. We can only share information with you. We cannot cause you to move.

“I fear you do not tell me the whole truth!”

To what do you refer? We perceive the truth to be different, you and I. I do not lie. She did as she saw fit.

“The sister’s actions are of no consequence. If the map is lost, it’s lost to us all. If it’s not, I may yet recover it. Have you weakened so much that events spin away from you?” he provoked him, languishing in the uncertainty of the moment.

They weave of their own will.

“Do you never tire of these old sayings? They have no meaning any longer, if ever they did. Words, words, words, words,” he said, bored, looking out over the distant hills. “Why do you aid me? I have a saying for you. Tell me you haven’t heard it? Never give your enemy what he wants. Am I not your enemy?”

Our purposes and yours will never be entirely the same, but they do have some elements in common. Do you wonder, though, if perhaps our assistance is something other than it seems? Do you know what it is you want? ‘Twas your failure that lost you the parchment, not my information. You must regain it from the elfin your own manner.

“How should I interpret that? I know what I want and I don’t trust you, regardless of your claim to speak the truth. ‘The truth’, ha! It’s what you do not say that is of real interest to me.” A ball of ebon fire danced on his palm and he toyed with it as if it was more interesting than the conversation, bouncing it from one finely shaped hand to the next.

We offer you what we can.

“What you choose!” His black eyes gleamed. “I will obtain what I need in time, regardless, but why do you want me to have the map? What purpose would it serve you?”

You wish to find the Gem. We desire that too.

“So arrogant, despite everything,” he said to himself. “And you cannot find it on your own? Do you hope I will lead you to it? What of the young ones’ quests?”

My eyes are weak. I cannot see.

“Or will not tell!” he roared.

The twins have their own paths to follow. The cloth is torn. Who has the strength to mend it?

“You speak in riddles again. It grows tiresome.”

Then do not listen to them.

“What have you given to me of import? A piece here, a piece there? Why?”

It was your arm that could not reach into the mountain. It was you who could not enter the forbidden places.

“The mountain was shielded. The plans I made for my brother did not materialize, and I sent another in his place when the tree died. It was she who failed.”

Ah, you make excuses too.

He spun about and the air around him crackled. Rivulets of power coruscated over his perfect skin. His muscles flexed and throbbed, the veins popping out like rivers along his arms. “Tell me this; who intervenes on their behalf now, if not you and your kind?”

The one called Sidra
, Ormachon replied.