Elf Doubt

by Bryant Reil

  “Oh! I don't think so. Mokosh has great powers, granted him by the god of darkness himself.”

  “Erebus was defeated.”

  “No. Mokosh would have told me.”

  “Are you stupid? The darkness only lasted a couple days.”

  “It was a warning, perhaps. But Mokosh has a stone of ancient magic. He hid it in the Grootslang's cave.”

  “Stone? What stone? Black, with squiggly writing on one side?”

  Hajar gasped. “You know of it? Yes. It is ancient magic - the same color as your ring. I mean my ring.” Her eyes brightened. "Is it strong enough to stop him?” Her eyes dropped back to the ground. “No. He made his vows to Erebus. He has great power. He can travel as fast as shadow.”

  “Power from Erebus!” Kyla smiled. “He lost that power when Erebus was defeated. I fought some of Erebus’ other followers.” She thought it best not to mention she was the one who captured Erebus, lest that information find its way to Mokosh. “They lost their power and scattered.”

  “No. I don't think so. I would know if Erebus were beaten. Mokosh would have gotten angry.”

  “Have you seen Mokosh shadow-travel since the darkness?”

  “I seldom see him use it. Only when I try to escape. If I flee in the day, he will appear in the night as a cloak of darkness and whisk me back. And he will be angry.”

  “But you can see magic! If he has power from Erebus, you could see it, right?”

  “No. It isn’t a spell, or enchantment. Erebus awakens their dark natures, which grants them power.”

  Kyla’s mission was for the stone, and now she had found it. Sort of – she still needed to sort out the business of escaping Mokosh and find the cave of the Grootslang.

  ***

  Bremnos ripped a segment of tunic from the corpse of his fallen foe and wiped the blood from his axe. He could feel his own blood dripping from his forehead into his empty eye socket. He scanned the battlefield, which lay littered with the snake-like bodies of the Ophilim stretched and twisted in ways that exaggerated the gruesome scene. They had routed in less than half an hour. Still, many had fallen in that short time, victim to inexperience, disorganization, and the brashness of youth. Only a few uniforms of the Royal Army lay on the field and were now carried to the medical tents. The overwhelming victory was only a reminder that he was not fighting soldiers but inexperienced and frightened children.

  He wandered back to the Council Tent, where he expected to find General Agrimarch and King Oberon reviewing the outcome of the battle. He found the General, but no King. Bremnos offered a quick salute as he approached.

  The ogre coughed. “Your assessment?”

  “We shouldn’t have fought them.”

  “They didn’t leave us much choice.”

  The evening after Bremnos’ failed parley, the youth had garnered a courage known only to fools and attacked the camp. Not in the organized fashion of soldiers but charging in like frightened animals motivated by self-righteous fury. They ran themselves on the swords and spears of the Royal soldiers, and the fruit of their effort was a few wounds on the soldiers’ arms and legs.

  “There are other ways to fight,” Bremnos muttered. He raised his voice. “We could freeze them in place. Turn them to stone until we can revive them.”

  Agrimarch frowned. “Not really equipped for any of that. This was a policing mission, and nothing more.”

  “Yet you and the King are here and brought an unusually large cache of weapons.”

  Agrimarch shrugged. “Talk to High Seer Imel about that. But our presence may still be crucial. Forces inside Dassidin are still assaulting the City Council. Oberon has teleported inside to negotiate. A mob has killed over two hundred civilians, at our last report, in addition to some of the city guard.”

  Bremnos pulled out a fingerful of silage and plopped it in his cheek. He offered some to Agrimarch, who declined. “Look, I know they’re out of hand. But they’re just kids. Frightened kids.”

  Agrimarch growled. “I don’t care how scared they are. They may be young, but they are adults, and they have murdered innocent people. They are now the enemy. Besides, the call is for King Oberon to make. Not us.”

  Bremnos nodded. He was a soldier, conditioned to obey orders. His eyes wandered back to the battlefield, littered with the dead. He was trained to fight other soldiers, not civilians who, until only a few months ago, had spent their days fussing over dating and parties and dreams of future wealth and status. None had planned to end their adolescence lying in a pool of blood on a field of grass.

  ***

  Aspen grunted under the strain of the exoskeleton draped across her shoulders. It wasn’t as heavy as a person, having no insides, but she had been lumbering around campus looking for Saul for the better part of an hour. She wasn’t certain where he might spend his time when he wasn’t in the cafeteria or sitting with Lili in the square. He was an odd fellow, and so she supposed she just needed to keep an eye open for somewhere odd.

  A loud bang and stream of smoke rising from behind the engineering building was odd. It also meant there might be a fire. As much as Aspen hated fire, she knew Saul was likely behind such a phenomenon. She adjusted the insect-like exoskeleton on her shoulders for better comfort and walked briskly in the direction of the noise.

  She rounded the corner to find her suspicions confirmed at the sight of two small horns poking through singed curly hair.

  “Saul!” She gasped for breath, sliding the exoskeleton onto the flagstone walkway. “Can you make me an outfit out of this?”

  Saul wiped his eyes and stepped forward. “Not even going to ask if I’m okay? My teeth are still rattling, you know.”

  “You look fine. A bit burnt. Eunoe made this bug-shell and said I could keep it. I thought it would look neat if you made it into something.”

  His eyes scanned the hollow carapace. “Like armor?”

  “Yes, exactly what I was thinking!”

  The sound of hooves approached from behind. Aspen turned to see the demoness Lili, her red skin sopping with sweat and tail waving and curling behind her.

  “It worked?” Lili called as she approached.

  “Yeah,” Saul nodded. “Good shot! We should probably get out of here, though. I have a feeling the groundskeepers are going to be a bit sticky about us setting that off.”

  Saul waved for them to follow into the engineering building. Aspen bent to retrieve the exoskeleton, but Lili quickly scooped it up and threw it over a single shoulder. The two trotted through the front door. Aspen looked around, suddenly worried that she might have gotten herself wrapped into something nefarious, but seeing no one in pursuit, followed.

  The engineering room was filled with shiny gadgetry. Aspen slowed and looked about, wondering what those brass gears and cogs and levers might do. She walked up to one but, before she had a chance to pull it, felt a tug on the shoulder from Lili. Saul was several doors ahead. He poked his head into a few rooms in the west corridor before waving them inside.

  Once Aspen was through the door, he shut it. “We’ve been working on ordnance and munitions.” Saul wiped his hands and face with a rag. “Not really supposed to test them on campus, but I’m too tired to walk out to the range.”

  Aspen shook her head. She didn’t know what ordnance or munitions were, but what he was doing sounded like human guns, which she didn’t like.

  “Eunoe is trying to make a body for Aias and she had this left over. I can pay you to make armor out of it. Do you like fish?”

  “Uh…I’ll think of something else.” Saul hefted the carapace, with some help from Lili, and peered inside an opening and felt along the edges.

  “Strong stuff. And flexible.” He and Lili gently set it on a desk. “And, uh, what I’d like in exchange is to have one for myself.”

  “Sure. I think she’s already starting one.”

  “Perfect.” Saul turned to Lili. “You want one, Sin?”

  Lili shook her head. “Of course not.”


  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m not a loser.”

  Saul shrugged. “Not yet, but a little more time with us, and you could be.”

  ***

  “Sventali, the Demon Lord, Master of the Deep Inferno is here, Your Majesty.” A new dwarf butler, dressed in the baggy purple and gray uniform of his office, bowed low.

  “Who are you?” Titania shouted, perhaps too loudly.

  “Hyfell, Your Majesty. Your Master of the Halls, Rust, has taken a few days to see his family. The Lady Aethelwyne asked me to fill his place.”

  The fire sprite, who was sitting on the step of the dais in front of Oberon’s throne, was looking around the room.

  “Aethelwyne!” Titania barked. “You are not to employ new staff without an order from myself or the King.”

  Aethelwyne looked up with an expression of shock that, to Titania, didn’t look entirely sincere. “Oh, Your Majesty! I thought it wouldn’t do any harm. I overheard Rust saying his mother is sick, and so I offered him a few days to see her. I shall fetch him back, if you like.”

  “Of course not,” Titania growled. “Don’t do this again.” She turned back to Hyfell. “Why is Sventali here? He didn’t announce his visit.” It was rare for any of the leaders of the sovereign nations to drop in without at least a few weeks’ notice.

  “He sent word, Your Majesty, but he had requested audience with the Lady Aethelwyne.”

  Titania cast a glance at the fire sprite. “It is not for you to entertain the Kings and Queens of the sovereign realms.”

  Aethelwyne stood and offered a curtsy. “Of course not, Your Highness. Only he had sent for me, and I couldn’t leave the palace, so he suggested perhaps he could come here to speak. I was going to refer him to you, Your Majesty, once I learned his purpose.”

  “Why would he send for you in the first place?”

  “I’m sure I don’t know, Your Majesty. I assume he needs help and didn’t feel it was important enough to bother you or the King.”

  True enough that the infernal realm was in as much turmoil as the rest of the world. Titania and Oberon seldom interfered with the autonomy of the sovereign Kingdoms, but Sventali’s domain deep in the fiery mantle of the earth was so remote and inhospitable that neither she nor Oberon had ever paid a visit. Sventali had been to the Royal Palace in High Haven only twice since his coronation thirty-some years ago.

  “You mustn’t act beyond your station,” Titania scolded. “In the Royal Court you are to observe, and nothing more.”

  The sprite shrank to her diminutive size, hovering in the air, and fluttered away from the Queen. “Oh, I do apologize! I only didn’t trouble you because you’ve been so busy, and I didn’t think he’d truly come. Shall I go to him, or would you prefer to speak with him in person?”

  “I’ll greet him, of course. What kind of insult would it be if I didn’t?”

  Titania shrank to her natural fairy size and flew for the door. She stopped before exiting, to turn and see if Aethelwyne had followed. The fire sprite still fluttered on the far side of the room.

  “Come on!” Titania snapped. “We shan’t keep him waiting.”

  Aethelwyne curtsied and followed. Titania wondered why the Master of the Inferno might make such a trip to see the heir to the throne. Something was amiss. It was time to pay Myam another visit. And, perhaps, even the High Seer.

  ***

  Kyla lay awake on the bed of grass Hajar had piled in the corner. Hajar foolishly slept on the opposite end of the hut, leaving Kyla a clear path to the door. The low rumble of Mokosh’s snoring and the smells of mildew and wood rot reinforced that this was not a mere nightmare.

  There were tools about that Kyla could use to kill Mokosh in his sleep. Blades for cutting cloth and grass. Hammers, saws, and axes for working wood. He was careless with them and left them lying about. It was Hajar who locked them up in a chest at the foot of the giant bed. She was so frightened of Mokosh she had abandoned all hope of escape and seemed determined to drain Kyla’s hope as well. The idea of killing Hajar kept creeping into her mind, but the thought of strangling her made Kyla feel dark.

  Morning came after a restless night of such thoughts. As he had the day before, Mokosh left after breakfast and gave a warning should they try to escape.

  “We need to go to the river again,” Hajar said. “For drinking water.”

  Kyla kept her mouth shut and head down, and nodded, and glanced at the rope, which now lay in a coil on the floor. She did her best to look nervous.

  “We'd better tie you up, just in case,” Hajar murmured as she wound the rope around their waists. “Come on.”

  Kyla grabbed a bucket and followed Hajar out the door and into the woods. As usual, she kept an eye open for Heff's hoofprints, but a snowfall during the night had covered any tracks. Hajar talked the entire trip, and when Kyla refused to answer, she rambled on as though talking to a good friend.

  The river was icy along the edges, so that they couldn't reach the cold water below without treading on the treacherous shelf. “Let me break it off with a rock,” Kyla suggested, and picked a large, sharp stone from the ground and, without waiting for a response, starting hacking at the ice. It wasn't thick, and a chunk broke off and flowed down the river. She was careful not to let go of the rock.

  “Bucket.” She held her free hand up, without looking at Hajar. Her co-slave made no objection and handed it to her. Kyla dipped the bucket in the stream and quickly dropped the rock inside when Hajar glanced back into the woods.

  “Finished,” Kyla grumbled as she rose to her feet.

  Hajar reached for the bucket.

  Kyla pulled it out of reach. “No, I'll carry it. Need the exercise,” she grunted, though she was so tired and sore she could barely keep on her feet.

  “Oh, good! See? When we work together it can be fun!”

  “Yeah.” For a flash Kyla considered splitting Hajar's head with the rock and running. Once again she suppressed the dark thought, though she didn’t know how much longer she could keep it down.

  Kyla spotted prints in the snow to her right. They hadn’t been there a few minutes ago. She stopped to examine them. She had never taken a close look at Heff's footprints before, so couldn't be sure of the shape, but these were hoof marks and looked the right size.

  Hajar frantically pulled at the rope. “Come on! We're almost there!”

  Kyla dug her heels into the snow. Once inside the clearing, the enchantment that kept the area hidden would ensure Heff couldn't find her.

  “Heff!” she called.

  “No!” Hajar shrieked. She pulled and leaned against the rope with all her weight. She was slightly larger than Kyla, and very strong, and Kyla’s feet slid over the frozen ground.

  Kyla grabbed the stone from the bucket and leaned forward. Pushing her legs as hard as she could, she pulled herself toward a tree and circled it, looping the trunk with the rope.

  “Stop it!” Hajar cried. Her face was red, and her eyes afraid. She pulled back, but with the rope now tightly wound around the tree, Kyla felt no resistance. She smacked the rope with the sharp end of the rock. A few good strokes should cut her free. Hajar dove forward and tried to grab the stone from her hand. Kyla kicked at her kneecap, a move which had saved her in the past, but missed and she lost her balance and slipped on the snow, landing on her back.

  “Heff!” Kyla shouted.

  Hajar jumped on her, screaming, though her face was filled with fear, not anger.

  “No! Please! Stop it!” Tears flowed and Hajar's nose was bleeding. Kyla must have hit her in the face.

  “Get off me!” Kyla thrust up with her hip to knock Hajar off, but Hajar gripped her too tightly. She pinned Kyla's shoulders beneath her knees. Kyla raised her legs toward her chest, the chains of the manacles arching over Hajar’s head and catching her below the chin. Kyla pressed the back of her knees against Hajar’s shoulders and pushed her legs downward. Hajar gagged, clutching at the chain that pressed against her t
hroat as she was pulled onto her back.

  There were heavy thuds from the right, and Kyla eased the pressure on Hajar’s throat.

  “Heff!” she called. “Thank good—”

  It wasn't Heff. Mokosh burst through the trees and swung his foot at Kyla's head, but with a yelp she curled out of the way.

  “You aren't worth the trouble of keeping,” the leshy roared. He looked at Hajar. “I hope you like elf meat.”

  Kyla was tied to Hajar, and the rope wrapped around a tree, so she couldn't run. She was tired and weak. Escape seemed impossible, and death certain. Kyla felt a pang of fear but let her anger push it aside. She wouldn’t tremble to this cowardly, hairy, stinky monster.

  She spat in the snow. “You stupid sack of rotting crab-apples. Erebus didn’t frighten me. Do you think I’m scared of a cowardly pile of pine-nuts like you?”

  Mokosh grabbed Kyla around the waist with one massive hand and picked her up. “You will be,” he growled as he squeezed. She realized she still had the rock in her hand, and as he lifted her off the ground, she threw it at his eye. It struck true, and Mokosh shrieked. He dashed her to the ground so hard she bounced. She clutched her sides and fought for breath.

  Hajar stood a few feet away. Her face was pale.

  “See?” Kyla moaned. “He’s not so tough.”

  Mokosh grabbed a heavy branch from the ground and raised it over his head. “Haven't had elf stew in a long time.”

  “There's no...elf meat...in elf stew,” Kyla said between heavy gasps. “It's mostly...rose hips.” She turned her head to see Mokosh. Once, months ago, she had cowered as the dwarf Dunkin had raised a rock to smash her head. Now she was determined to look her killer in the eye.

  The branch swung, but before impact there was a scream and Hajar leaped in front. The blow silenced her and sent her sprawling, though her body wrenched to a halt as the rope reached its limit. Mokosh swung his arm again, though instead of delivering another blow, it dropped to the ground in a spray of crimson. The surprised Leshy turned to meet an enraged Heff, who embedded an axe in his chest. Mokosh’s eyes rolled back as his body slumped against a tree and slid to the ground, the stump from his shoulder ejecting a few final spurts before dwindling into a series of rivulets down the monster’s side. Yet he was still moving and let out a groan.