“Actually, our existence is supposed to be kept a secret, especially from you,” the elf explains while she slides down to the ground. Picking bark and twigs out of her crimson hair, she happily stretches her legs and wiggles her toes. “One of our purposes is to help any of your people who escape Shayd. We do this either through the shadows or by pretending to be caring strangers, which I guess we actually are. For example, Quail’s adopted mother was either a secret Ambrosine follower or chosen by one to raise him. If our existence was made public then there would be a mass immigration from Shayd, which would leave your homeland abandoned. Not to mention there would be no way for us to smuggle you out, so you would have been left behind with the Baron. To avoid that mess, we remain a secret until we’re no longer needed. That time might be coming soon because of you and the champions. Do I get my freedom now or are you going to continue carrying me around like a piece of luggage?”
Trinity sits in front of the elf and looks through the diary for the page that has repeatedly grabbed her attention. Holding it out for Altia, she refuses to let go of the book and uses her thumb to point at the important information. A short tug-of-war happens over the tome since the red-haired woman is curious about the metal rings used to keep the parchment in place. Not wanting to damage the diary, Trinity lets go with her hands and leaves two glowing strings on the cover in case she has to yank it back. Noticing the thin tethers, the elf grabs her whip and snaps them like they are made of glass. A brief glimmer in the enhancer gem necklace catches the channeler’s attention and a familiar scent touches both of their noses for an instant. Before Trinity can ask about the strange incident, the diary is thrown back to her and the smiling elf stretches her arms.
“Finding a portrait of the Baron shouldn’t be too hard since the world is supposed to have forgotten about him,” Altia says while coiling her whip. She tucks the weapon into the pocket beneath the chainmail on her back, a tiny bit of the handle sticking out for her to grab in an emergency. “I’m going to assume that Quail and his map have already done that job. He is such a sweet man for defending me. Maybe when this is all over, I’ll get to answer my question about chaos elves and other races having children together.”
“Please don’t treat him like an experiment,” Trinity snaps as she puts the diary away. She is surprised when she turns around and finds the elf scowling. “You couldn’t possibly be in love with a man you just met. Not to mention you’ve been lying to him from the beginning. Quail probably still thinks you’re a former Garian. It’s going to be difficult enough telling him the truth, so don’t add this whole romance thing into it.”
“Quail and I dated a year ago.”
“Is he aware of this?”
Altia smiles and pulls a ball of satin out of her pocket and tenderly unwraps it to reveal a tiny shell. “Yes and he knows what I am, but Ambrosine made him swear he wouldn’t tell my secret if we reunited. Not unless I revealed myself first. Ah, we were so young and had no idea what we were doing. I’d only recently become an agent and was told to watch over him since his adopted mother had just died. We were pretty serious until I had to leave and help with a new arrival. You’ve probably figured out that my connection to Quail is the reason Ambrosine sent me to Gar’s Library. She wants me to help and my reward is a second chance with him. As I said, a lot will change if you’re successful, including me being able to stay with Quail. I promise to talk to him about everything when we get back to camp and we’ll even continue acting like strangers. In return, you don’t keep me locked up like a prisoner or an extra pair of pants. Do we have a deal?”
The two women are about to shake hands when the ground shakes and a wave of heat rolls over the land. Left sweating and gasping for air, they stare in the direction of the camp where a bright light is starting to rise. Screams erupt from the warriors, but it is impossible to tell if they are of fear or surprise. The voices are immediately drowned out by a familiar laugh that causes Trinity to sprint back to the others. She is about to get hit by another blast of heat when Altia’s whip cracks over her head and creates a path of cool air for her to follow.
“Thanks for the help,” the chaos elf says over her shoulder. Another chorus of yelling rings out, but the noise is abruptly cut off by a loud roar. “Damn it, Yola, I’m really getting tired of you hunting me.”
*****
The trees between the camp and the Yagervan Plains have been shoved into the ground, so only their tops can be seen. With the obstacles removed, there is nothing between Yola and the large wall of heat that is glowing on the border. Surges of magic ripple along the barrier before it emits a hot wave of energy that punishes the mortals. Those with heavy armor gasp for air and remain on the ground, their bodies slowly roasting in the metal suits that acts like an oven. Many have passed out from the torture, their barely breathing forms marked by green flags that have sprouted from their heads. Anyone who attempts to undo the spell or give relief to the army are grabbed by the immortal, her arm stretching like a serpent. Yola casually hurls her victims into the wall where they scream in agony and burst into a cloud of dust that drifts to the bubbling ground. The former goddess no longer bothers with watching the display, her attention more on the auras approaching from the north.
Not wanting to drive Trinity away, Yola holds up her hand to catch the next burst of heat and crush it into a tight orb. As soon as her prey emerges from the trees and races into the camp, she hurls the ball and creates a second wall to make sure nobody escapes. Unlike the original barrier, the new one is shorter and does not give off any energy. A tired and disoriented archer wanders over to the spell, his friends doing their best to convince him to stop. Ignoring their coughs and warnings, the young man touches the wall and is immediately melted into a pile of muck that smells like almonds. Steam wafts off the remains, which gradually turns cold and becomes covered in glinting frost.
“I thought people would want a cold treat later. It isn’t cannibalism if the person is transformed,” Yola announces while spinning her wrist. The walls become darker and stop pulsing heat into the area, yet nobody dares to see if the barriers are safe to touch. “I’m not leaving until I get to eat you. No more tricks, monsters, or making me bored. This time I’m serious and I have hostages. Every time you reject my offer, I’ll toss one of these people into my spells. Don’t bother arguing that I can’t do that because I can. These are my toys to do with as I see fit. Now, I’m going to open my mouth and you’re going to jump in. Grab a sauce or some wine if you think you’ll taste bad raw.”
“Uh, I don’t think we’ve ever met,” Altia says, leaning away from the immortal. The elf falls on her back when Yola’s advance causes her to bend over too far. “You seem like a really nice person, so I’d remember meeting you before. The green hair is beautiful and I love the way your skin moves. Reminds me of swirling paint together. Please don’t eat me?”
“I’m standing right here, Yola!” Trinity shouts directly into the confused woman’s ear. She sends Altia rolling away with a wind spell before her old friend bites and earns a mouthful of pine needles. “What is wrong with you? She looks nothing like me, so stop trying to take a bite out of her. I’m the one you want.”
“But she has your aura,” the former goddess whines before sticking her tongue out. Shaking the pointy spines out of her tender flesh, she slithers it toward the red-haired elf and hooks her by the leg. “Hurts to talk while biting my tongue. Wait, that chomp wasn’t so bad. Nope, not enjoyable at all. The gems on her neck have your power.”
Yola flings Altia into the air and opens her mouth to swallow the woman whole, but a force field fills her toothy maw. The immortal is knocked onto her back when Trinity sweeps her legs and dives to catch the falling elf. Using magic sight, the channeler finds that there are thin veins of violet energy traveling from the core of the enhancer gem to Altia’s heart. The magic mixes with a dull green that she assumes is her companion’s natural aura, which looks no stronger than that of a child. Turning off he
r spell, Trinity puts the woman down and knocks Yola across the camp with a rainbow bolt that transforms into a cage. Instead of escaping, the immortal stares at the pretty colors and sings her favorite childhood song.
“Can we go even ten minutes without another secret coming out of you?” Trinity asks, her temper flaring. An icy wind erupts from her body to erase the smaller wall and revive all of the transformed mortals. “I asked for honesty, but knew that you would keep some stuff back. That would only be natural since you don’t really know us. Stumbling onto your history with Quail was fine since it really isn’t my business. Now, this is about me and the enhancer gems I swear I absorbed long ago. How did you get them? From what you said earlier, you had these before I lost them.”
“I don’t know,” Altia answers, shying away from the chaos elf. Holding up the uncut jewels, she watches the sparks inside dance onto her fingers and disappear beneath her nails. “My spells come from this. If I’m hit by something magical then I can repeat it by channeling the gem’s energy through my whip. Never imagined it was your power I was using. I’ll gladly give my precious treasure back if you want it.”
“I’ll take it!” Yola shouts before leaping out of the cage. She pounces on Altia and tries to wrestle the gems away, most of her movements undoing whatever progress she makes. “Stop struggling because I don’t want to hurt you. I think. Who are you anyway?”
“She’s my fiancée,” Quail blurts out, rushing over to knock the immortal away. Not missing a beat, Altia hops up and takes the chaos elf by the hand. “I gave her the enhancer gems instead of a ring. They must have absorbed some of Queen Trinity’s magic when we were in Gar’s Library. Please, don’t eat her because she has nothing to do with this.”
Opening her mouth to argue, Yola stops when Altia gives Quail a long kiss that knocks him to the ground. Confused and thinking they need some privacy, the blushing immortal turns back to where she last saw Trinity. The chaos elf is right behind her to deliver an explosive punch that sends the green-haired woman into the heat wall. Yola explodes in a puff of mist that travels back to the camp and covers the channeler from head to toe. Before she can reform around her old friend, she is violently dispersed by a tornado that appears around Trinity’s body. The storm splits into five parts that gather the dust, allowing Yola to reform in time to be slammed head first into the ground. Submerged down to her waist, the immortal crosses her legs and taps her toes against her shins.
“I’ll keep beating on you until you go away,” Trinity announces, cracking her knuckles as she gets closer. Spotting sharp teeth in the dirt, she leaps away from a giant maw that nearly catches her foot. “You’re getting persistent and on my nerves, Yola. I’m tired of telling you no and explaining the situation. If you’re really my friend then you would stop chasing me. Keep pushing to eat me and I’ll never speak to you again.”
“But . . . But . . . I don’t want that,” Yola whimpers, her head growing out of the earth like a flower. The rest of her body follows like a twisting stem, which fills out when she spreads her hair like petals. “Wait, there’s another side to this. If you’re really my friend then you would want to help me get back home. By me giving up my desires in the name of friendship, you get what you want and I remain an exile. By you giving in to me in the name of friendship, I get to return to Ambervale and you’ll be resurrected without a fuss. Why don’t you believe me that Odigar will keep his promise? He’s a man of honor and order and robes without wrinkles even when you leave them balled up in a corner for five years.”
Taking a deep breath, the chaos elf gets within reach of her opponent and puts her hands on the woman’s cheeks. “For the last time, the risk is too high. If you’ve been lied to then I’ll stay dead and I will have abandoned my people when they need me the most. Since you refuse to back down, I can’t be your friend anymore. That means I’m giving you this last chance to leave or I’ll fight you with everything I have. You’re no longer a goddess, Yola, so you could lose this fight. Look, I’m willing to help you when my business is done, but in a way that doesn’t involve me being devoured by you. There has to be another way for you to return to Ambervale.”
“Probably, but this is the only one I know of,” Yola replies with a crooked smile. A thin mouth appears along her torso and grabs Trinity, the sharp teeth chewing the chaos elf up within seconds. “Sorry that I had to be so blunt and tricky. We’ll look back on this and laugh, so don’t hate me too much. Maybe I can get my godhood back in time to help your people. No reason for your people to only worship Ambrosine. I am going to be the Goddess of Chaos, so it makes sense for chaos elves to follow me too. Well, good-bye, everyone!”
While everyone stares at her, Yola vanishes in a puff of smoke that rises into the clouds and explodes into a crackling ball of lightning. The camp remains silent since most people are still exhausted from the heat wall that is slowly fading away. Quail and Altia cannot look away from the bolts that swerve into the distance, the pair wondering if there is a part of Trinity within each one. They are so lost in their thoughts that neither of them notice the channeler materializing to their right. It is only when the chaos elf is tending to Vile’s partially melted body that the flaxen-haired mapper takes a step and trips over her. Drawn to his yelp of surprise, everyone looks and gawks at the woman who they swear was eaten before their eyes.
“An explosive lightning orb hidden in an illusion,” Trinity answers as she helps Quail to his feet. Wiping dirt off her pants, she heads for the border with her companions remaining a few steps behind. “I didn’t want to do it, but Yola left me no choice. It’ll take a while for her to put her pieces back together and she might be angry. So, can the future groom pull out the crest map and tell me where to go?”
“I wanted to tell you the truth, your highness,” Quail says, his hands fumbling with the scroll. Opening it backwards, he blushes when Altia helps him and lets her fingers run along his hand. “It was a surprise to see her again and I wasn’t sure if she was there to help us or it was a coincidence. Then there was the oath I made to Ambrosine, which I hope I didn’t just break. We were together so long ago too that I didn’t expect any of the emotions to remain. Still, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to being happy that she’s here. It was very stressful to put on the act even when we weren’t sure you were listening. I promise to be a professional and not let my past get in the way of my job.”
“I speak for myself, Vile, and Nimby when I say that we want to vomit,” the Lich grumbles, the necrocaster in control of the body while the halfling sleeps. He rolls his eyes at the glares he gets, his interest in the topic already exhausted. “As long as it doesn’t stop us from getting the crests, you can do whatever you want. Just not in front of me. Nothing I hate more than watching young people kiss like it’s the only way to get air. Don’t even get me started on the other things you living creatures do. Are you okay, Trinity?”
“There’s something on the other side of the heat wall,” the chaos elf replies, putting up her hand to stop everyone from advancing. Vague silhouettes can be seen in the thinning haze, but she is unsure if it is one of the nomadic tribes or a collection of large termite hills. “Let me get rid of this thing entirely and we’ll figure out what’s going on. Be ready to retreat into Pynofita Forest if it’s a surprise left by Yola.”
Plunging her glowing hands into the heat, Trinity grunts and coughs while she shreds the barrier. No longer hidden by the spell, a huge army of well-equipped soldiers stands at attention and awaits orders from their leader. Violet-colored military banners wave in the wind, each one depicting a salamander that has been pierced by a black arrow. There are no tents set up, which makes Trinity wonder if they were stopped by Yola’s spell and are heading north. Her hope dies when she sees a chainmail-wearing elf march out of the ranks, a bladed war staff held across the woman’s shoulders. Half of the warrior’s body is scarred and it appears that she only has a single gray eye, the other consumed by the old injury. A black bandana is on her head
, a few wisps of black hair sticking out of the sides and back. While neither tall nor muscular, the veteran has a presence that makes the less-experienced army begin inching toward the trees.
“This journey is becoming more of a headache by the minute,” Trinity mutters as she goes to greet the Mercenary Queen. Whispering a few quick prayers to Ambrosine and a single curse at Nyx, the chaos elf stops and bows her head. “I’m honored to meet you under what I hope are civil circumstances, Tzefira. Our last encounter was on bad terms, but know that I was doing a job for a master I no longer follow. Are you passing through or-”
The punch to Trinity’s jaw flips her into the air and she is driven into the ground by a vicious kick from the stone-faced elf. “My daughter and her telepath friend asked me to escort you back to Serab since I was finishing a job on the coast. That punch was for the soldiers you killed when we last met and the kick was to make sure you stay down while I think. I’m still deciding on if I should give you a few more for my daughter, her friends, and anybody else that comes to mind.”
“Would it help if I told you that Nyx trusts me?”
“No because that doesn’t mean I do.”
“Guess I know where your daughter got her temper from.”
“You should meet her father.”
“Not without a helmet and full platemail if you and she are any warnings.”
Tzefira chuckles at the joke and reaches down to help Trinity stand, her men hurrying to escort the others into their ranks. One rushes over with polished manacles, but is waved away by the Mercenary Queen. Spotting Quail, the man hurries toward the other chaos elf and is immediately chased away by Altia’s whip. Looking at his leader, the soldier seems lost until she gestures for him to help with the horses and carts. Hearing Trinity sigh with relief, Tzefira feels a little bad about quickly slapping a powerful anti-magic collar on the other woman’s neck. The flexible piece of metal turns red whenever the channeler tries to create a spell and the magic turns into a foul-smelling gas that only the wearer can detect. Without another word, the scarred elf heads back to her men and barks orders in a language that only those within Salamander Army can understand. Satisfied that her soldiers are doing their job, the Mercenary Queen whistles for an ox drawn cart to come closer and release steps up to a dark pink tent that is on the wheeled platform. Opening the flap, Tzefira snaps her fingers to get her prisoners to head inside the structure before the army begins its march across the Yagervan Plains.
Path of the Traitors Page 15