by C. L. Wilson
Celieria ~ Verlaine Forest
The Mharog Azurel stood at the northern edge of the Verlaine Forest, draped in a long, hooded, black shroud to keep the mud-morning sunlight from falling upon his skin. He and the others who’d once been Champions of Light were creatures of Darkness now, and sunlight scorched their flesh like fire.
Pale lids descended over nightmarish eyes, and he turned his head slowly in a half circle to scan the forest for his prey. Put a shei’dalin within a hundred miles of a Mharog, and he could find her. A shei’dalin’s Light—the same Light that in his previous Fey existence had offered the promise of profound love and joy—shone to his Mharog eyes like a garish sun. And her Light blazed so bright it set the horizon aflame. To his surprise, smaller Lights—many of them—lay in a cluster to the east of the Tairen Soul’s mate.
Hatred and loathing consumed him. Watching Rain Tairen Soul scream and rend his own flesh when she died would be a pleasure he’d savor for centuries.
His eyes snapped open. A hiss rattled from his throat. “The village is there,” he told his companions. He pointed to the south, where he’d seen the cluster of smaller Lights. “The Tairen Soul and his mate are there.”
“If Tairen Soul and his mate have left the village, why hasn’t he just Changed and flown away?” Rachuss, one of the Mharog, asked.
“This wood is filthy with traps,” Primage Dur answered. “Poison darts shoot down anything that flies. If the Tairen Soul tried to take wing, he’d be dead before he cleared the top of the trees.”
“Then they’re trapped,” Angramar, another Mharog growled. “Can we use the Well to reach them?”
Dur shook his head. “We’ve not been successful keeping chemar in this region,” he said. “The dahl’reisen destroy them as quickly as we put them in place.”
“We will run them down on foot, then,” Azurel said. “You Mages, take the soldiers and head for the village. Chernos”—he nodded his cowled head at another robed Mharog—“will accompany you so you don’t lose your way. The rest of us will follow the Tairen Soul and his mate.”
“You know what the High Mage commanded,” the Primage objected. “You are not to approach the woman alone.”
“The High Mage commanded me to bring the woman to him alive, and I will do so,” Azurel countered, his voice as smooth as iced silk. “But you and your soldiers slow us down.”
Dur stood his ground. “You go nowhere without us, Mharog.”
Hidden by his robe’s long sleeves, Azurel’s hands clenched into fists, his long, black fingernails digging into his flesh. He’d spent a lifetime hating the Mages. Embracing Darkness hadn’t changed that. It only meant he didn’t kill them as often.
“Very well, then. We split up. Send half your Mages and soldiers with Chernos. The rest of you, follow us. And keep up.”
Farel slowed and jogged back towards Rain and Ellysetta. “The Eld have breached the Verlaine.”
“Mages?” Rain asked.
“Scores of them, all blue-robes. They lead a garrison of soldiers… They have a Mharog with them. They’re heading for the village.”
Ellysetta’s cheeks drained of color. “Because of me?” she asked with dread. She’d removed her blindfold a bell ago. “Did the Mage use me to find the village?”
“I don’t know. We’ve kept you well shielded and we blindfolded you. Everything I know about Mage Marks tells me that should have been enough to protect against four Marks…”
“But?” Rain prompted.
Farel gave him a shuttered look, the kind warriors gave one another when the news was grim. “But there’s a second Eld party heading on an intercept course with us… and they have five Mharog leading them.”
“We’ve got to go back,” Ellysetta exclaimed. “We’ve got to help Sheyl and the others.”
“Nei. Getting you to safety comes first. Sheyl understands that.”
“But the children! Cerlissa and Bannon!” Rain caught her when she lunged towards the dahl’reisen leader.
“And if the Eld are somehow tracking you, going back would lead them straight to the women and children. Right now, the Eld forces are split. It’s best for all of us if they stay that way.” Softening his voice, Farel added, “Besides, Sheyl has already begun the evacuation of the village, and I’ve summoned reinforcements to guard their retreat. They will be as safe as I can make them.”
“But—“
Rain squeezed her shoulders. “Farel’s right, Ellysetta.”
«Shei’tani, their women and children are the only Lights left in these warriors’ lives. If dahl’reisen still retain any part of their Fey hearts—and gods save them, I’m beginning to believe these do—staying with us, trying to get you to safety, when their women and children are in danger must be almost more torment than they can bear. Do not berate them for it.» He met the dahl’reisen’s gaze. “Can we make it out of the Verlaine before the Eld can cut us off?”
“We need to change course. Head due west… maybe southwest… force them to come around the northwest corner. That will buy us a few bells.”
“A few bells are better than none. Lead the way.”
Farel started to turn, then hesitated. “Sheyl told me you offered our women and children sanctuary in the Fading Lands. Was that at her urging?”
“Aiyah,” Rain admitted softly. “She showed us your nursery this morning… and the child Murialisa. How could I refuse her?”
“That’s why she showed you.” Farel’s shoulders sagged. “She saw this attack coming. She kept it from me because she wanted to be sure I was away.” He took a deep breath, and when he looked up again, his features had once more settled into a stony expression devoid of all emotion. “What she sees comes true—always—so I am where I’m supposed to be, as is she. Let’s get you to Gaelen—and we need to pick up the pace.”
Farel spun a command to the lines of dahl’reisen bringing up the rear. «Brothers, circle the Feyreisa! Ring of Protection!»
The dahl’reisen burst into action, parting into two columns to circle around Ellysetta, careful to keep their distance. They ran as graceful as pronghorns, leaping fallen trees and dodging low-hung branches with astonishing speed. Rain and Ellysetta were clumsy tanglefoots by comparison and had clearly been slowing them down.
Farel glanced back over his shoulder. “What are you waiting for, Tairen Soul? Let’s run.”
The last of the villagers hurried out through the thicket tunnel, beneath the watchful eyes of the remaining dahl’reisen, while Sheyl ran door to door, checking every room, nook, and stair in the dahl’reisen village to make sure no one had been forgotten.
Urgency beat at her, accompanied by the sensation of a heavy weight pressing down upon her. It was like that sometimes with her second gift. Not a clear vision, but simply a driving need that hounded her until she heeded its call. Now was such a time.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was still here. Someone had not left with the others.
«Sheyl, we must go.»
«A few more chimes. I’m almost done.» She raced across a vine bridge leading to the last cluster of tree homes in the village, the ones that hugged the farthest perimeter of the compound. These were the houses the sensitives occupied… the homes of Murialisa’s parents and other couples like them.
The pounding in her veins grew stronger, the weight pressing on her chest heavier so that her breath came in shallow gasps. She opened the door of Muri’s house and ran room to room. The bedrooms were filled with signs of frantic packing: clothes strewn in haphazard piles across the bed, drawers and wardrobes open, their contents in disarray. But there were no people, nothing that couldn’t be lost to the Eld. The true treasures of the house, Muri and her parents, were gone.
Sheyl ran out the back door and checked three more homes on the same level of the cluster before bounding down the hanging stair, making the treads rock wildly. She leapt to the platform beneath and opened the first door she came to. That house was empty, as were the secon
d and third after that.
The fourth house, however…
She burst through the front door, shouting, “Is anyone here?” Before the echoes of her call died out, she heard the choked cry, and then she knew.
She headed straight for the bedroom and flung open the door. Carina, whose man had been among those who had not returned last night from rescuing the Feyreisa, lay in a muddled pile of sheets that were soaked with sweat, maternal waters, and blood. Her jaw was clenched, her hands gripped around the tight, rippling mound of her unborn child. The child was coming… and it was early by three months.
Sheyl drew a deep breath and let it out. The urgency and the crushing weight of fate fell away, replaced with imperturbable calm and a detached, faintly melancholy sense of acceptance.
So this was how her death was to be written.
More warriors were on the way. From every corner of the Verlaine, all blades not manning a scout post were racing to hold off the Eld invaders and buy time for the villagers to escape. But they would not come in time to save Sheyl.
She crossed the room to the bedside and took the frightened, laboring woman’s hand in hers. “Carina.” With a smile, she caressed the woman’s flushed brow. “Don’t worry, dearling. I’m here. I won’t leave you.”
Throughout the morning and well into afternoon, the dahl’reisen kept up a punishing pace. Light, lithe, they sped across the densely wooded terrain the creatures of the forest they had become, their feet barely touching the ground as they skimmed over mossy rock and tree and burbling stream, each step finding the perfect purchase. Most Fey warriors—even at their fastest pace—rested fifteen chimes out of each bell. The dahl’reisen only rested ten.
When at last Farel called a half bell rest, Rain and Ellysetta collapsed onto the ground, out of breath and energy. Around them, some dahl’reisen found a mossy stump or fallen tree to sit on. Others simply folded their legs and sat where they stood.
Rain and Ellysetta took a seat at the base of a large oak tree. Farel unclipped a flask from his hip belt and tossed it to them.
“Water from the Heras,” he told them. “It’s the closest thing to pure faerilas in Celieria. It should help you both.”
Rain thanked him and uncapped the flask, taking the first, experimental sip before handing the flask to Ellysetta to drink her fill.
As Rain leaned back against the oak and let his gaze wander, he noted the dahl’reisen nearby pouring a stream of the faerilas-infused water on their hands before drinking.
“What are they doing?” he asked, nodding a chin in their direction.
Farel glanced over his shoulder. “Testing themselves. The waters of the Heras burn like acid on the skin of any creature of the Dark. We require all warriors in the Brotherhood to pour the water on their hands before witnesses at least once a day and after every battle. It’s how we know who has fallen too far into Shadow.”
“What do you do if they have?” Ellysetta asked.
Farel eyed her steadily. “We let the forest have them.”
The scream of a lyrant broke the quiet. Ellysetta swallowed and looked away.
Farel stood. “It’s time to go.”
Eyes closed, Azurel checked the position of the Feyreisa’s Light. “We’re losing them,” he said. “I knew you’d slow us down. They’ll be free of the forest before we can reach them.” Once they were out of the Verlaine, Rain Tairen Soul could Change, and all hope of capturing him and his mate would be lost. “What can we do?” Dur asked.
Azurel considered the options quickly and gauged the distance to the two targets. “How many chemar do you have?” The Primage’s brows drew together in a suspicious frown.
“Why?”
“How many?” A low rattle, like a porgil’s warning before it struck, vibrated in the Mharog’s throat.
Dur’s composure slipped, revealing a flash of fear before he caught himself. “Three dozen.”
One pale, imperious hand extended from the cuff of the black robe. “Give ten of them to me.”
The Primage hesitated… then, with obvious reluctance, surrendered his pouch of chemar stones. Azurel spilled a dozen of the stones on the ground, near a pile of fallen leaves and twigs. He closed his eyes, drawing an image in his mind. Green Earth gathered at his call. The leaves fluttered, then began to spin.
“What are you doing?” Dur demanded.
Twigs rose up in the air. Their thin ends split, and the frayed ends curled around the spilled chemar like tiny claws. Brown, dead leaves knit together, fluttering like feathers in the weave’s swirling breeze.
“Shortening our trip.”
Farel pushed them hard until sunset. He called a few bell’s rest for evening meal, which consisted of cold journey cakes, faerilas, and a few chimes of sleep. As their brothers rested, dahl’reisen quintets scouted several miles in every direction.
“Listen.” One of the warriors in the quintet scouting the rear flank lifted his head. “Do you hear that?”
His brothers cocked their heads and listened for half a chime before shaking their heads. “Hear what?” the dahl’reisen asked.
Then the breeze shifted, blowing towards them, and the currents of air carried with them a tiny, almost imperceptible sound. Little pops of sound in a continuous series. Pop. Pop. Pop.
“That.”
The sound grew louder, coming closer.
“I hear it now,” one of the dahl’reisen said. “Almost like the sound of an elf’s fingerbow firing, only hundreds of them together. But what is—” His voice broke off. His eyes widened. He turned to the dahl’reisen sitting next to him, an Air master. “Lirn, get up there.” He pointed towards the treetops overhead. “Hurry. Tell us what you see.”
Silvery white Air gathered in a powerful burst and launched the dahl’reisen skyward. Lirn landed on a thick branch high in a nearby tree, then leapt again, moving with effortless speed until he reached the topmost branches.
The popping sound was much more noticeable up there, and Lirn turned his head towards the sound… and by the light of the setting sun saw the dark smudges of a distant flock of dark birds winging towards him, no more than a tairen length above the forest canopy.
Shock froze him in place for a stunned few moments. They couldn’t be birds. Nothing flew over the Verlaine and lived—and he knew the forest defenses were working. That’s what the popping sounds were… the constant streams of poison darts firing at the flock of birds.
Yet the birds continued to fly.
He narrowed his eyes, bringing the distant creatures into closer focus, and saw the dead leaves flapping like wings, prickled with so many darts the thing looked more like a flying quillspine than a bird. No wonder the darts had no effect. Poison couldn’t kill a thing already dead.
Lirn’s focus moved lower. Tiny stick legs dangled beneath the pumping wings of the birdlike creatures… and clutched in each twiglike claw was a gleaming white stone.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“We’ve got to go. The Eld have found a way to send chemar into the forest.” Farel’s grim pronouncement brought Rain and Ellysetta to their feet. He explained quickly about the birdlike creatures. “They’re still twenty miles out, but closing fast. The scouts are going to try to destroy them.”
“Can we outrun them?” Rain asked.
“Nei. Even in an open field at our top speed, we’d still run slower than these creatures fly. They’ll be upon us within the bell. I’ve already asked for thirty-six volunteers to build a Wall of Steel. That should buy us at least some time.”
“Even thirty-six won’t be enough against five Mharog and scores of Mages.”
“I know, but when the first Wall falls, we build another, and another. As many as it takes until you’re clear of the Verlaine and able to Change.”
“What’s a Wall of Steel?” Ellysetta asked.
Rain supplied the answer. “It is a line of warriors who will stand and fight to the death before allowing a single enemy to pass. Once they make their Wall, the
only way they’ll leave it is through victory or death.”
“What?” Ellie couldn’t believe she’d heard right. “But that’s suicide!”
“It is the only option.” Farel didn’t meet Ellysetta’s horrified gaze but instead kept his eyes fixed steadily on Rain’s. “I’ve called more dahl’reisen from the borders, but the closest are still three bells out.”
“We’ve got to go. The Eld have found a way to send chemar into the forest.” Farel’s grim pronouncement brought Rain and Ellysetta to their feet. He explained quickly about the birdlike creatures. “They’re still twenty miles out, but closing fast. The scouts are going to try to destroy them.”
“Can we outrun them?” Rain asked.
“Nei. Even in an open field at our top speed, we’d still run slower than these creatures fly. They’ll be upon us within the bell. I’ve already asked for thirty-six volunteers to build a Wall of Steel. That should buy us at least some time.”
“Even thirty-six won’t be enough against five Mharog and scores of Mages.”
“I know, but when the first Wall falls, we build another, and another. As many as it takes until you’re clear of the Verlaine and able to Change.”
“What’s a Wall of Steel?” Ellysetta asked.
Rain supplied the answer. “It is a line of warriors who will stand and fight to the death before allowing a single enemy to pass. Once they make their Wall, the only way they’ll leave it is through victory or death.”
“What?” Ellie couldn’t believe she’d heard right. “But that’s suicide!”
“It is the only option.” Farel didn’t meet Ellysetta’s horrified gaze but instead kept his eyes fixed steadily on Rain’s. “I’ve called more dahl’reisen from the borders, but the closest are still three bells out.”