by Zora Marie
“Nothing you say can change my mind. I’m leaving and likely won’t be coming back in your lifetime. So, take care of each other for me.”
“Everything’s ready,” Dotch said as he came up to join them. “Are you sure you can handle the ship on your own?”
Zelia shrugged, Eadon had taught her a little about ships, but she never imagined she’d need the knowledge. “I’ll manage.”
“Keller and I talked about it. We’re going with you,” Kafthry said, Keller nodding his agreement.
Shaking her head, Zelia backed away from them. “No. Where I’m going you won’t survive. Even if you could keep up with me once I get to dry land. I—”
“We’re going and whatever happens to us will be on our own heads.” Kafthry climbed into the boat.
“That’s what I am afraid of,” she muttered under her breath.
A few villagers came up with enough supplies for Kafthry and Keller to make the trip with her. Zelia shook as she watched Kafthry help the villagers. They can’t go. They’ll die. He glanced at her, and she knew then she couldn’t sway the boys.
“Go tell Elm and Evergreen goodbye then! This is a one-way trip.”
It tore her up to take more lives to face their end, but she knew she needed their help with the ship.
By the time the boys returned, she had calmed herself. She couldn’t let her emotions get in the way, not when so many lives depended on changing what was to come.
“Okay, we’re ready to go,” Keller announced when they returned.
She turned to the others who had gathered on the dock, knowing they were waiting on her farewell. “May the winds ever blow to carry you and your dragons across the open water.”
Before their goodbyes could be dragged on any further, she nodded to the boys to drop the sails and let the winds of the coming storm push them as fast as the boat could stand. The dragons followed them out, but Raven beckoned them back with a hint of anger and sadness in her tone.
The island faded from view, and she sank against the rail of the ship.
Kafthry brought her a water skin and sat down beside her. “So, how long do you think it’ll take us to get to the mainland?”
“Around a month. Then the hard part will begin.”
Over the next couple of weeks, Zelia did her best to train Keller and Kafthry to defend themselves and to speak the common tongue. With all of it, they often fell asleep while they fished in the evenings. That’s when Zelia practiced her control of ice, finding ways to use her shifting ice forms to propel the boat just a little faster.
One day the sky turned black with clouds and churned with rage. A storm brewed so large it often sent the ship flying through the air instead of floating on water.
She froze waves and moved the ship from one wave to the next with the expanding water, saving them from destruction at sea time and time again. The entire time Keller and Kafthry struggled to keep the sails and supplies tied down. By the time the storms cleared, she was drenched in sweat and saltwater, her legs shaking with the effort to hold her upright.
“Keller!” Kafthry pointed towards her.
For a moment, she wondered why, but then her knees buckled, and Keller caught her before she fell overboard where a section of railing had torn away.
“You okay?”
She fought to stay awake as her eyes tried to roll back in her head.
“I’ll be fine, just need to rest.”
“Then rest, we can handle things for a while.”
“No, I…” she trailed off as sleep took her.
“Look who’s finally awake.”
Her vision was blurry as Kafthry placed some stale bread in her hand.
“You need to eat something.”
“How long was I out for?”
“About a day, and the ship is in rough shape.”
“How bad?”
“There’s a hole in the hull too large for us to patch. We pulled everything we could onto the deck after you passed out. As it is, we won’t make it.”
She nodded and pressed her palm against the deck.
“Are you sure you can handle that right now?”
“I’ll have to.”
Her vision cleared from sleep as she gave him a faint smile and watched as a thick film of frost grew across the deck. The boat creaked as the bilge water under the deck froze.
“How long do you think that will hold?” Kafthry asked.
“Long enough.”
She watched the sky as the sun set behind her to reveal the stars above. She identified constellations above and in front of her. They were only a few days from the mainland, which was good because she wasn’t sure how long she could keep the hull sealed with the waters warming.
After a little while, her mind wandered to other matters. What way are we going to take over the Faithful Mountains? She knew they didn’t have time to go around as most people did. If it was just me, it wouldn’t matter what pass I take. I could make handholds with ice if I had to. But, these two need the pass... a few peaks south of The Hold, but which one?
She closed her eyes and recalled the maps she had seen and what she knew of the mountains. She counted from the southernmost peak, the pass they would have to take was between the fourth and fifth summit if her memory was correct. Even though the pass went across a low spot, it would take at least two days to cross.
28
The Mountains of The Old Ones came into view on the horizon as they neared The Trading Town’s docks.
“So that’s where you grew up?” Kafthry asked.
“Not exactly, but yes. We’ll have to go that way after we find horses and gather some supplies. If we’re lucky, the trappers will be in town and I can ask them about the pass.”
She slung her pack over her shoulder as the ship eased to a stop alongside the dock.
“Don’t go wandering too far. I’ll catch up with you.”
“Wait, you’re leaving us?”
“No, I need to sell the ship and I’ll cover ground faster on my own.”
She glimpsed a familiar face wading through the crowd that had gathered to gawk at the strange ship as she jumped to the dock.
“Connan?”
“Zelia? But I thought you were dead. Wait, Asenten… you killed him?”
She started to look away, unsure of how to explain, but then she noticed how his demeanor and clothes had changed. He looked rundown, like a villager instead of a dwarven prince. Even the little pieces of gold that hung in his braided beard before were gone, replaced with little ties of leather.
“No, but can we talk about this somewhere else? Please.”
Connan glanced around at the crowd, then waved her to follow him. He led her to a dark and dusty tavern and sat at a secluded table towards the back. He didn’t say anything after they sat, he just stared.
“I didn’t kill Asenten, but…” she trailed off, unsure how to explain. “When you came back, I ran because I couldn’t leave, not because I didn’t want to. Asenten and the others had trapped me there for years.”
“What? Why?”
She shrugged. “They created me. Your friend James wasn’t wrong when he questioned me being an elf. I lived with the Elves across the mountains when I was little. I don’t understand why they did what they did, but Asenten had to die. He would have made me kill you and all of your people, because you had seen me.”
“If that’s the case, why did you run?”
“I didn’t run. I was taken away to Hyperia. Asenten tried to kill me, or something, but his spell wasn’t strong enough or maybe it was their healers.”
“Asenten is what was keeping Darkans from taking over the mountain. And now we can’t get rid of Kniteoff,” Connan growled.
“Kniteoff, the dragon?”
“The one and only.”
Zelia struggled with what Connan was saying. She had heard of Kniteoff, he was one of the last of his bloodline, of the dragons that lived thousands rather than hundreds of years. He seldom came ne
ar humans, let alone Dwarves.
“We used Kniteoff to try to stop the Darkans, but now we can’t get rid of him. Thousands of my people were slaughtered because Asenten was killed.”
“What? You’re… you’re saying it’s my fault? I didn’t know.” Her mind raced to put the pieces together, but it felt like she didn’t have all of the puzzle. Wait, if he is alive… “Did you tell the Elves about me?”
He nodded and leaned forward.
“Why were they shocked to hear your name? And why did they try to cover it up?”
“Like I said, Eadon raised me in Elyluma.”
“Then… wait, you’re the one the stories of the old wars hinted at. Of the girl who released the souls of the fallen King and his men as though she were his daughter.”
“Connan, I’m sorry about the Darkans and your people, but Alrindel will die if I don’t get across the Faithful Mountains soon.”
“How did you know about the war on the other side, but not what happened here?”
“A dream, it’s hard to explain. All of this is. But can you help me get horses and supplies? Please.”
He studied her for what felt like ages before answering.
“I can’t, but I know someone who can.”
They walked out of the tavern and nearly ran into a man talking to Keller and Kafthry. Zelia couldn’t help but admire the old man, the deep creases around his eyes showed his age, yet he was as fit, if not fitter than any young lad in the town.
“So, what are you boys doing with that boat of yours?”
“It’s yours Jack,” Connan said, “if you help my young friends here. They need three horses and supplies for a trip across the Faithful Mountains. No bedrolls or such, just the necessities.”
She could see the concern in Jack’s eyes.
“I wouldn’t go traveling right now. The Darkans are stirring. People are saying war is in the air; even the trappers have been crossing back to this side of the mountains.”
“Her kin are over there. You won’t be able to keep her here so just help her get what she needs.”
“All right, but only one problem with that. There are only two horses in town up for sale.”
“What about that black stallion?”
“Eh, he may be from a king’s herd, but he’s too wild to ride.”
“I’ll take him,” Zelia said.
“Then your death wish is in the pasture at the edge of the woods. I had planned to let him breed my mares, but if you can ride him, you can have him.”
“Thanks Jack,” she called after him as he waded through the crowd. “Thank you for the help Connan.”
“Don’t mention it. Oh, and you will help me fix this dragon problem if you survive the Darkans.”
“In that case, until next time.”
She gave him a short bow and headed off to the woods south of the town, leaving Keller and Kafthry to follow Jack for the time being.
She was just off the edge of town when she let out a slow and pretty whistle. The sound of it echoed off the trees and reminded her it was the same tune Alrindel used to call for his horse and a knot tied in her gut. She had forgotten where she had heard it, and it made the potential of losing him all the more real.
A warm grassy breath puffed in her face and eased the knot in her gut.
“You came.” She had expected to have to search for him, not for him to come at the sound of a mere whistle. “Not so wild after all are you boy? So, what’s your name?”
“Bête Noire, my grandmother told stories of someone like you. Someone who spoke to horses. Your whistle, do you know Alrindel?”
“He’s kin. You know him?”
“I wanted him to be my rider, but the King sent me to the Dwarves.”
“May… may I be your rider?”
She stroked his forelock as she stared into his eyes, hoping he would accept her.
“Hm, no tack.”
“Alright.”
He let out a light neigh before jumping the fence and turning alongside it so she could climb on.
“Oh, Kafthry and Keller, we need to get back to them before they do something stupid.”
“Who or what are Kafthry and Keller?” Bête Noire asked.
“Friends from Dragon Island who have a knack for not knowing when to keep their traps shut.”
“They can’t be any worse than Dwarves.”
“Perhaps, but at least Dwarves can defend themselves, Keller and Kafthry… not so much.”
It didn’t take them long to locate the boys as they stood in the middle of the market street in a heated argument with a tall, lanky man. The man’s face turned red, and he drew his sword.
“Oh, it’s on, you little runt!”
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I would appreciate it if you left my friends alone, sir.” She trotted up on Bête Noire.
“If you’re such a big shot with a sword, get off that horse and show me,” the man demanded in a rage that was apparently incited by Kafthry and perhaps a bit of alcohol by the looks of things.
“I won’t fight you.”
Zelia slid from Bête Noire and shot Kafthry a disapproving glance as the man charged. She ducked the sweep of his sword and drew a dagger from the small of her back.
She deflected his blade and moved to the side.
“A dagger?” the man demanded, the leather hilt of his sword popping as he twisted his hands on the hilt, tightening his grip until his knuckles shone white. “You must take me as a joke. Come on, pull your sword you little brat!”
“No. You’re going to hurt someone,” she said, glancing at the crowd around them hoping he would get the hint.
“Why you littl—”
“This is a new low, even for you, trapper.” An elf stepped through the crowd that had gathered.
“Someone has to teach these little brats to respect their elders,” the man grumbled as he put his sword away.
“If only you knew,” she breathed under her breath and switched languages. “Thank you for the assistance. I do not believe we have met before. I am Zelia.” She gave a slight bow to the elf.
“Where did you learn that language?” The elf reeled in surprise.
“Eadon of Elyluma taught me.”
She could feel the stares of the crowd as they tried to understand their conversation over the sound of the cursing man.
The elf stared at her with wide eyes, and his light brown eyebrows rose. “But you’re not an elf.”
“Not going to give me your name?” She asked with a grin, unable to contain her amusement at his reaction. I’m surprised you haven’t heard of me; the Elves don’t keep things from each other.
His shoulders drew back as he bowed his head. “Oh, sorry, you may call me Eragon. I am a royal guard for the Drakeon Empire.”
“Is King Erolith in the area then?”
“No. I am on my way to The Hold to see if the rumors of a war to come are true.”
“Depending on what way you plan to go you will be there just in time to witness the battle take place. I would venture to guess the bowmen of Elyluma are to march out any day now to help the Kingdom of the Mountains defend The Hold from the Darkan armies marching south as we speak.”
He tilted his head to one side, his eyes still fixed on her.
“How do you know this?”
“Eleanor,” she said the name as if it explained everything. “I, too, am headed across the Faithful Mountains. Since we head the same direction, perhaps we can travel together? I assume someone else is with you. Darkan Territory is hard to pass even for an elf of the Drakeon Empire.”
“You are a peculiar girl.” Eragon skimmed the crowd for his companion. “Saria should be around here somewhere.”
She switched languages as she turned to Jack.
“If you could hurry with those supplies and meet me on the southeast side of town that would be lovely.”
Jack gave her a nod and slipped into the crowd.
Eragon changed languages to match her.
/>
“I’ll meet you there as well. As soon as I find Saria and finish gathering supplies.”
She watched Eragon disappear into the crowd, then turned to Kafthry and Keller.
“You two can come with me before you get yourselves in trouble again.”
She propelled herself off a half rotten stump in the middle of the walkway and onto Bête Noire’s back. The crowd parted as she rode through with Keller and Kafthry close behind. Being new to the environment they tried to take as much in as possible, they walked with wide eyes as they scanned their surroundings. From time to time, Keller would stop and take a deep breath through his nose as there were so many new smells to absorb. Zelia wished she could see the town as they did, but she knew most of the people she’d killed had been from the Trading Town and if she stayed long enough, she would hear tales of people disappearing.
When they stopped at the edge of the town Keller looked Bête Noire over.
“So, this is what a horse looks like.”
Bête Noire shook out his mane and nickered, “They’ve never seen a horse before, and you expect them to ride across the Faithful Mountains?”
She didn’t switch languages so Keller and Kafthry could understand her.
“I’m sure they can do it. They managed to stay on dragons trying to keep up with Raven so I’m sure they can stay on a horse. Though we should teach them the basics.”
She looked to the boys.
“Keller, Kafthry, pay attention because this is a crash course in riding. Horses are very different from dragons. The way you’ll be riding, you’ll have what we call a bit in the horse’s mouth and you pull with one side and let out on the other to turn. If the horse refuses, you give a slight jerk on the side that you wish for them to turn towards.”