by JA Andrews
“Mallon?” said Milly faintly.
“He stole a gem to raise the Rivor from the dead?” Douglon looked at Alaric as though he was joking. “Is he going to buy him back from the underworld?”
Patlon chuckled. “I didn’t realize the dead were for sale.”
“He’s not dead,” Ayda said, still facing the door, her back stiff.
“Of course he’s dead,” scoffed Patlon. “Even the dwarves know the story of how he strode into the Greenwood to conquer you but your people destroyed him.”
Ayda turned slowly from the wall and passed her gaze over each of them, ending with Patlon. Each one of them drew back at her expression. When she looked at Patlon, he wilted.
“I was there when he was bound,” she continued, walking to Patlon and towering over him. Her face grew dark, and she seemed to stretch taller. “He is not dead,” she ended with a whisper.
No one breathed for a moment.
“Bound?” Alaric asked, finally.
Ayda turned away from Patlon. “For lack of a better word. The Rivor can’t be killed or trapped like a mortal. He’s only connected loosely to his physical body. Not enough of him inhabits his body for hurting it to cause him any real harm.”
The others exchanged puzzled looks.
“How did your people bind him?” Alaric asked.
“We made a net to catch him and drew it close around his body. Then we froze him there.”
“In ice?” Patlon asked.
Ayda gave a short laugh. “No, it’s not like he’s stuck in a crystal box.”
Alaric scowled at her.
“It’s almost impossible to stop a will that strong, but we set his mind on a path that leads back to itself. He is fighting to get out, but the route he is taking is circular. The hope is that he cannot escape.”
“So that is why all of his spells ended?” Alaric said. “Because his will is confined to himself now?”
Ayda nodded. “He could spread his will far from himself. He could attach it to a person and leave part of it there. It took my people a long time to figure out what he was doing. It was Prince Elryn who first detached one of Mallon’s spells from someone.
“The spell needed somewhere to go, though, so it attached itself to Elryn. He was able to destroy it by transforming into a tree. This is where we got the idea of how to defeat him. We realized that if we could collect all of the spells and destroy them at once, there would be nothing left of Mallon outside of his own body. He would be mortal.
“That is when I began to travel,” Ayda continued. “I visited every town I could find and marked any cursed people I found.”
“Marked?” asked Douglon.
“In a way another elf could find, yes. I was returning from the far south, but not yet home when the elves began. It was earlier than planned, but there was no doubt. I could feel elves, hundreds of them, stretching out toward the marked ones.” She looked far away and fell silent.
“Did it work?” Milly asked timidly.
Ayda blinked and looked around.
“Yes, but the Rivor arrived too soon, and the battle began before they had destroyed all the spells. Mallon was gravely wounded… but at a terrible price.” Ayda turned back toward the wall. “All of my people were lost.”
“No!” Milly said.
Alaric listened, stunned. All of the elves were dead?
The room was silent.
Ayda sighed. “I was too late. When I got to my people, they had taken Mallon’s power onto themselves, but it was too much. My people were dead, and Mallon was senseless, but alive. I tried to kill him, but nothing I could do harmed his body. He was trapped, but not defeated.”
She took a deep breath and looked around. “I carried his body to the Elder Grove, an ancient place. It is surrounded by the oldest trees in the forest, which will let none but elves enter. It took a bit of convincing for the trees to let me take him there.” Ayda smiled sadly. “I left him there, secure in their deep magic, in the hopes of discovering a way to kill him.”
Alaric realized he had been holding his breath and let it out. This was why no elves had been found in eight years. It wasn’t that they were being secretive. Ayda was the only one left to be found.
Chapter Twenty-Two
A great loss swept through Alaric. He knew there had never been many elves in the Greenwood, but he couldn’t believe all but Ayda were gone.
Patlon frowned. “You know, I had discounted them as rumors, but we’ve heard news that nomadic tribes have been gathering in the Scales.”
Alaric turned sharply. “Do nomads usually come into the Scale Mountains?”
“The last time was eight years ago when they joined with Mallon. I think those rumors need some investigating.” Patlon slapped Douglon on the shoulder. “Cousin, you’ll have to chase the single, solitary, old man by yourself. I need to go face hordes of vicious nomads.”
Alaric nodded. “Tell King Horgoth to tell Queen Saren what the dwarves know.”
Patlon raised an eyebrow. “I can’t tell the High Dwarf what to do.”
“Well, tell him I told you to,” Douglon grumbled. “Tell him to get off that ugly throne and start doing something useful.”
Alaric raised an eyebrow at Douglon’s brashness.
Patlon winced. “It won’t be any better coming from you. In fact, it would be a lot worse. It’s going to take me a little time to smooth things over between you and Horgoth.”
“Smooth what over?”
“Your banishment,” Patlon said apologetically.
“My what?”
“Well, I might have mentioned to Horgoth that you stole the map from me.”
“How does that get me banished?”
“He thought that we had intended to bring him the treasure. He decided that you had stolen the map so you could keep the gem from him, and I couldn’t correct him without saying that neither of us had ever considered giving it to him.”
“Why would we?”
“Exactly! Since when do we drop all the treasure we find off with him? Did we give him the gold from that crown?”
“Or the barrels of whiskey from the monastery?” Douglon added.
“Don’t worry, cousin,” Patlon said. “I’ll smooth things over with him. It will be taken care of long before you get back there.”
“What will happen to you if it’s not smoothed over?” Brandson asked Douglon.
“Jail,” Douglon said.
“Well,” Patlon tugged nervously at his beard. “Actually, he would be executed.”
“You said banished,” Douglon said in a low voice.
“Did I?”
“But execution isn’t the penalty for breaking a banishment. It’s the penalty for treason.”
“I didn’t mean for him to leap to treason,” Patlon said, holding his hands out to keep Douglon back. “But somehow, Horgoth convinced himself that you were collecting wealth so that you could set yourself up as High Dwarf.”
“What?” Douglon shouted. “You got me banished by convincing Horgoth that I wanted to be king? And he believed you?”
“I didn’t do anything! You know how he is,” Patlon said, inching backward. “He’s always been a little insecure about your claim to the throne.”
“Douglon has a claim to the throne?” Brandson asked.
“It’s nothing,” Douglon tossed the words at Brandson and turned back to Patlon.
“Sort of,” Patlon said, leaning around his fuming cousin to look at Brandson. “Douglon’s grandfather was the twin brother of King Horgoth’s grandfather. There’s this interesting story that draws into question which twin was actually born first. Douglon’s grandfather had six toes on one foot, and one midwife claims—”
“Enough!” roared Douglon. “I do not want to be king. Neither did my grandfather. I hope Horgoth has a litter of sons so that their family line is indestructible. I would chop off my beard and live with an elf before I would submit to sitting day in and day out on that ugly throne. I cannot believe Horgoth bel
ieved you!” Douglon looked plaintively at his cousin. “He really charged me with treason?”
Patlon winced. “In front of a full court.”
Douglon dropped his head into his hands. Then he looked back at his cousin. “And how exactly are you going to smooth this over?”
Patlon began tugging at his beard again. “I’m going to have to tell him it turns out you were just waylaid and you’re on your way to bring it to him now.”
“I’m not giving that treasure to my addle-headed cousin! Even if it were mine to give.”
“If you can think of another idea,” Patlon said, “let me know.”
“King Horgoth dislikes wizards, doesn’t he?” Alaric asked.
“Hates ‘em,” Patlon said.
“Tell him the treasure belonged to a wizard and Douglon was bewitched.”
“Ooh! That’s good! Then you’re innocent, Douglon!”
“And Horgoth will never want the treasure,” Douglon said, nodding at Alaric.
“Good, because he can’t have it,” Alaric said. “I need it.”
“You?” Patlon asked.
“It’s a Keeper’s Wellstone, and I’m a Keeper.” The claim rolled off his tongue almost easily.
“I keep forgetting that Kordan was a Keeper,” Douglon said. “He seemed so evil.”
“Did you hear that from anyone besides Gustav?” Alaric asked.
Douglon narrowed his eyes.
“No,” Ayda answered for him.
“Kordan was a Keeper,” Alaric said. “I have read the records of his work. He wasn’t evil. There was an accident while Kordan was performing some magic, and a boy died, despite Kordan’s efforts to save him.”
Ayda leaned toward Douglon and whispered loudly, “Kordan sounds diabolical.”
“Shut up,” the dwarf said. He turned to Alaric. “What do you need the Wellstone for?”
Alaric almost gave a generic answer about Keepers loving knowledge. But as he reached for the pouch at his neck, he realized that he wanted to tell them about Evangeline.
As the silence dragged on, the faces of his companions grew concerned. Looking from face to face, something loosened inside of him and he began to talk. He told them of meeting Evangeline, marrying her, of the stupid accident when she had been poisoned, about how he had searched and searched for an antidote and finally had real hope that it was held in Kordan’s Wellstone.
There was silence for a long moment.
“Oh, Alaric,” Milly said quietly.
“I didn’t realize Keepers married,” Brandson said.
Milly smacked him in the arm. “What Brandson means is that is terrible and we will do everything we can to get the stone back.”
“Not many Keepers marry,” Alaric said. “Most spend too much time stuck in the Stronghold or libraries to meet anyone. But it happens occasionally.”
“Do you think Gustav knew Kordan was a Keeper?” Brandson asked.
“I’m sure of it, if he knew about the Wellstone,” Alaric said. “Although I don’t know where he heard about it.”
Patlon looked at them all curiously. “What story did Gustav tell you about Kordan to get you all to look for the treasure?”
“Douglon was the one looking for the gem,” Brandson explained. “Gustav was already at my house when Douglon showed up.”
Patlon tilted his head in confusion. “But Gustav’s been looking for it since last summer.” He stopped and snapped his mouth shut.
“You’re getting old, cousin,” Douglon said dangerously. “Brandson didn’t meet Gustav until last winter. How do you know that Gustav was looking for the treasure before that?”
“You knew Gustav,” Alaric said.
“‘Knew him’ is a little strong,” Patlon began.
Douglon growled.
“I met Gustav last summer while I was hunting,” Patlon said quickly. “He was sneaking along a game trail, and I almost shot him. We got to talking, and he told me he had found a cave the night before with veins of silver in the walls. He’d scraped some off for his potions but had no need of the rest of it. He gave me directions to it and said he was seeking a different sort of treasure. He had heard rumors of a valley with no beginning and no end. It was said to hold both treasure and magical objects.”
“He told you about the valley where we found the map?” Douglon asked. “And you never told me?”
“I was going to, but when I followed the old man’s directions to his cave with ‘huge veins of silver’, all I found was one streak so thin it was barely visible. I had spent my whole hunting day on a wild goose chase.” Patlon’s scowl turned a little sheepish as he looked at Douglon. “I didn’t feel like telling you I’d been duped. Then when we really did find the valley, it seemed too late…”
“You never saw Gustav again?” Alaric broke in before Douglon could answer.
Patlon shook his head again, then paused. “Now that you ask… maybe.” He tugged absently on his beard. “After you ran off with the map, Douglon, I stopped by the tavern at the river crossing and had a drink. Partway through the evening, an old man came in and sat near me. Hulgrat and Swenrich were there, and”—he glanced at Douglon—”I may have been telling them about what you did.”
Douglon growled again.
“You stole from me!” Patlon exclaimed.
“The old man?” Alaric reminded him.
“Yes, well there was something familiar about him, but I couldn’t seem to look at him clearly enough to figure out what. He just sat nearby, and I had the impression he was listening. Then at one point, I looked over and he was gone. I honestly haven’t thought about him again until right now. But now that I think about it, he did remind me of Gustav.”
“It was him,” Alaric said. “Shade Seekers have a way of affecting what people focus on. They call it influence. Gustav could have manipulated you until you didn’t care enough about him to pay attention.”
“Then he knew I had the map,” Douglon said, “months before I ever met him.”
Alaric nodded absently, struck by an idea. Influence. Gustav used influence. The questions that had been fluttering through his mind since he met this group settled. Answer after answer burst into light.
“If Gustav is skilled at influence, that explains everything.” Every single thing. “It’s easy to make people not notice someone they weren’t looking for in the first place, like an old man in a tavern, but I think Gustav’s influence may range far past that.
“I think Gustav is the reason you are all together,” Alaric said. “If he had tracked Douglon near Kordan’s Blight, Gustav could have used influence to draw Douglon to him.”
“No one drew me,” Douglon objected.
“If Gustav was good at it, you would have thought it was your own choices that guided you,” Alaric said. He gestured to Milly, “It’s similar to the magic the borrey used.”
“That doesn’t explain why Ayda is here,” Brandson pointed out.
“They both came to you at about the same time, right?” Alaric asked. “Then it makes sense. An influence spell to draw someone isn’t one that Keepers use, but I understand the concept.” He ignored Ayda’s snort. “You can draw a specific person if you know a great deal about them. The better you know them, the more specific to an individual the spell will be, but it will work over a smaller distance.
“Gustav knew little about Douglon. Just that he was a dwarf, really, but since Douglon’s probably the only dwarf within two days’ walk, Gustav could afford to be vague. Since he didn’t know how close Douglon was, he would have wanted to make the spell as general as possible. I’m guessing he drew any intelligent, non-human. That would bring Ayda as well.”
“You might be right,” Ayda said. “I hadn’t planned on going to Kordan’s Blight, but I never thought much about it. I have a hard time paying attention to things sometimes.”
Douglon rolled his eyes. “Sometimes?”
“And it explains why I just couldn’t focus on him. Ever,” Ayda said. “I tho
ught he was just boring, but I could barely look at him.”
“I’m sure he knew you would notice too much about him if you did,” Alaric said.
An irritated line creased her brow. “That’s why I don’t know what color he is, why I didn’t ask how the dragon knew him, why I never wondered about the wizard at all.”
“So Gustav kept drawing Ayda back whenever she left?” Brandson asked.
Alaric groaned. How had he not seen any of this? That’s what Gustav had been doing in the woods when Ayda had wanted to leave. It wasn’t Brandson that had convinced her to stay at all. Gustav had used his influence. “I thought elves were hard to influence,” he said to Ayda.
She winced. “That’s another thing my father said was human about me. I’m easy to fool.”
Milly looked at Ayda, her brows drawn together. “Why would he keep drawing Ayda back? He needed Douglon’s map, but what did he need Ayda for?”
Alaric looked at Ayda. Why did Gustav want her there?
Ayda shrugged. “Maybe he just liked me.”
“That can’t be it.” Douglon shook his head. “He must have had some other crazy reason.”
Ayda ignored him and looked to Alaric for an answer.
“I’m not sure,” he said. “Maybe it was because you have such unusual powers.” Alaric certainly felt better knowing where Ayda was. Maybe Gustav had noticed the same sort of thing; the idea that Ayda had the potential for something extraordinary. Or devastating.
“So if Gustav was just after the treasure,” Brandson said, “why not just steal Douglon’s map?”
“He couldn’t read it,” Alaric said. “The runes on that map are complicated. To anyone other than a Keeper, they would say the gibberish Gustav read. Shade Seekers study runes, but not to the extent Keepers do. I’m not sure anyone studies ancient runes the way Keepers do.”
“Which means,” Ayda said, “not only did Gustav draw the map to him, but he also drew one of the only people on earth who can read it.” She smiled sweetly. “I think it’s reasonable to think that Gustav drew you as well.”
Alaric snorted. That old wizard hadn’t drawn him. He had already been seeking information about Kordan. His own journey had brought him here.