by William King
‘I should certainly hope not. Oh, and in case you have any odd ideas, we are not the only ones our master has sent. If anything happens to us…’
There was no need for him to complete the sentence. ‘What can I do for you?’ Dorian asked.
They told him.
Chapter Fifteen
‘Here,’ Alarielle said.
‘Where?’ Tyrion responded. He could see nothing. This place looked like any other part of the great forest. Overhead huge ancient trees loomed. All around them was the tangle of massive, ancient roots. They were like the hands of wooden giants buried deep and trying to dig themselves out of the earth. The dismal birds circled overhead, cawing and giving away their location. They kept out of direct line of sight though, since Alarielle had taken to shooting them. The birds had pursued them for days, and once again Tyrion could hear the sound of Cold Ones closing in.
Alarielle stood like a statue for a moment and then danced over one of the roots, arms held wide, whirling like a child playing a game trying to make itself dizzy. She seemed unusually elated.
‘I am glad you are so happy,’ he said, ‘but I don’t see anything to be happy about. We are still lost in the woods. We are still pursued by enemies. We still have no aid.’
He did not mean to sound so angry. He felt very ill and his side was paining him. He was not sure how much further he could go without rest, and she did not seem tired at all. He was used to being able to go for days without rest if he had to. Now it felt like he could barely go for hours.
‘I know where we are,’ she said, her exuberance fading with her smile.
‘Please, share the information with me!’
‘We are at the Winterwood Palace.’
‘I don’t see any palace.’
‘Perhaps that is because you do not know where to look.’
‘If you would be so kind as to point it out to me…’
‘I am standing on it.’
‘I have always heard that the people of Avelorn were backward, but I never thought that even they could mistake a tree for a palace.’
‘And I have always heard that the people of Lothern know nothing but stone houses.’
‘I don’t see any stone houses.’
She jumped down from the great root upon which she was perched and moved amid the tangle of them which formed something like a cave. She vanished from sight into the gloom and did not reappear.
‘Alarielle!’ Tyrion said. ‘Alarielle!’
There was no answer. Tyrion walked forwards into the gloom, hands extended, expecting at any moment to encounter a rocky surface. Nothing happened. He kept walking, and ahead of him he heard mocking laughter.
‘Wonderful,’ he said. ‘A tunnel for a palace. I suppose it’s an improvement on a tree root, but not much.’
‘Keep walking,’ she said. Her voice echoed strangely in the darkness. He walked into something – a dead end. He moved his fingers along it and turned slightly, realising that the tunnel had reached a bend.
He repeated the process a number of times, all the while speaking her name and following the echo of her laughter through the darkness. It receded before him and then it got closer again until, reaching out, he touched her warm flesh in the darkness.
She laughed again and moved away from his grip and then spoke a word in the ancient tongue of the elves. A greenish glow emerged from the air itself and he saw something that took his breath away.
He stood in a vast cave, the roots of the trees thrusting out of the earth like beams in the dome of a great hall, forming a large arch overhead.
In the centre of the chamber was a huge dark pool, the surface rippling as if something in the depths was disturbing it. Clouds of steam emerged from it. The air was warm and slightly humid and it smelled of earth. Tyrion suddenly had a sense that they were deep underground. It was like being in the burrow of some great beast.
After a few further moments of inspection, he decided that was wrong. This place was the product of an elven sensibility. The earth had been shaped and sculpted to make this place exactly what Alarielle claimed it was – a palace.
They had not come through tunnels, they had come through corridors that resembled tunnels. This place looked as if it was the creation of natural formation at first glance, but you could see that the roots of the trees and the nature of the ceiling had actually been arranged to artfully suggest that. In fact, the whole chamber had a symmetry that could only be the product of intelligence at work.
Alarielle smiled. ‘I used to love this place,’ she said.
‘I can understand why,’ Tyrion said, surprised to find that he could. The chamber had an odd charm and the more he looked at it, the more he liked it. ‘It is like nothing else I have ever seen.’
‘We used to come here in the winter, when the snow lay deep on the ground, and be snug as badgers in their burrows. The hot springs keep the place warm. A certain amount of magic has been woven into the place as well.’
‘Do you think that those who follow us will be able to detect that magic?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said, looking thoughtful. ‘This place was never intended to be a fortress or to be particularly secret. It was a refuge when the winters were hard, a place to come and sing and dance.’
‘Let us hope that our pursuers can’t spot us with their spells,’ Tyrion said.
‘This place is also a storehouse,’ Alarielle said.
‘Good. So we can find food here,’ Tyrion said.
‘And more than food.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Wait and see,’ she said.
‘With bated breath.’
‘We should be able to use the tunnels here to give our feathered pursuers the slip. There is more than one exit from here, and if we are careful and come out under cover of night, we can lose them.’ She sounded more confident than she had in a long time. Tyrion wished he shared her confidence. His side hurt more with every step.
They moved deeper into the palace and each chamber was as large as the first, sometimes larger. Tyrion began to feel like a hunted animal that had found its way back to its burrow, a safe haven. He knew that feeling was deceptive though. It was perfectly possible that those who followed them could find this place just as easily as they had.
If that was the case, what Alarielle thought was a safe haven could easily turn out to be a very large trap. He told himself to stop looking on the dark side so much, but he could not help it. His side hurt. He felt weaker than he had at any time in his life; a sense of doom was creeping over him.
He felt as if great danger was approaching and there was nothing he could do to avert it. It had a nightmarish quality that was profoundly depressing. He started to understand his twin’s temperament. For a great deal of his life, Teclis had laboured under ill-health of the worst sort. It was no wonder he was so sour.
‘You look very thoughtful,’ Alarielle said.
‘I know that must be disturbing,’ Tyrion said. ‘But I am capable of it.’
‘I never said you were not,’ she said.
‘I’m sorry, I was thinking about my twin.’
‘You are very close to him?’
‘Yes.’
‘What were you thinking?’
‘Nothing,’ he said.
‘You’re not very forthcoming,’ she said.
‘You said there was more than just food here,’ he said. She nodded. She gestured through some archways. Tyrion could see light springing into being within them. It was a greenish glow emitted by what looked like gems. Inside each chamber was a sleeping platform. Near each platform was a chest. Alarielle opened the chest. It contained bedding – furs and sheets.
‘You said there are other ways in or out from this place…’ Tyrion was curious as to how many escape routes they might have.
‘There are many. You’re thinking that we may be trapped down here, aren’t you?’
‘The thought had occurred to me.’
‘You need r
est,’ she said. ‘We both do. And this is the safest place we’re likely to find in many leagues. We cannot be spotted from the air. It is difficult to find the way in if you don’t know how. We will be safe here for a little while.’
‘I hope you’re right.’
‘In any case, there are things here that we can use.’
‘Like what?’
‘You will see.’ Her smile was enigmatic. She seemed to delight in having secret knowledge. He supposed he could not blame her for that. ‘Wait here! Rest! I will find it.’
Tyrion wanted to protest. It would be dangerous for them to be split up again. It would be dangerous for her to wander off alone. She simply shook her head.
‘I know this place. I grew up here. I can find you and I can get away from anyone who pursues me.’
‘What if you’re not the only one who knows how to find their way around here?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘This attack has been supremely well planned. I do not doubt that Malekith has had spies investigating your kingdom for centuries. It is possible that one of them has been here.’
‘You’re right, but what of it? Unless that person is here right now, the advantage will still be mine.’
‘Who’s to say that they are not?’
‘Then I think I will recognise them and we will know who the traitor is, won’t we? Now, stop fretting, lie down. I will be back soon.’
Tyrion lay down on the bed. He felt very dizzy. The room spun but only for a moment. He fell into a pit of sleep. There was nothing he could do to prevent it. If a legion of dark elves charged into the room at that very moment, he would not have had the strength to rise and fight them.
He knew that Alarielle was right. The best thing he could do was sleep and regain his strength, if that was even possible. He was useless to both himself and her in his present condition.
Tyrion woke feeling much better. Alarielle stood in front of him. She was garbed in fresh clothes and carried a tall winged staff which exuded an aura of power that even he could feel. She smiled and looked genuinely happy.
‘What is that?’ Tyrion asked.
‘It is the Moonstaff of Lileath,’ she said. ‘It is an ancient artefact useful when you’re casting spells. I hope that I will be able to find a use for it.’
‘I hope you never have to,’ said Tyrion.
‘There are a number of other things that have proven useful. I found some of my mother’s elixirs. I have been feeding them to you while you slept and sometimes when you were awake, although you do not seem to remember that.’
He ran his fingers through his hair and noticed that it was significantly longer. He had acquired the beginning of a beard, which was unusual because normally his chin hair grew very slowly. ‘How long have I been asleep?’
‘Three days.’ She looked worried and he understood why. It was possible that their enemies were creeping up on them even now.
He sat upright very quickly. The motion made him feel very dizzy. He did not let that stop him though. He forced himself to stand although his legs felt weak and he could barely stay upright. He felt very hungry. The pain in his side had diminished somewhat, which was a blessing.
‘Lie down!’ Alarielle said. ‘You need to eat and you need to get back your strength.’
‘I have been unconscious for days?’
‘Not all of the time. Sometimes you were conscious but raving. I needed to restrain you sometimes. I still have the bruises.’
She showed him her arms. They were patterned with small bruises that looked as if he had gripped them there very hard. ‘I am sorry,’ he said. ‘I did not mean to hurt you.’
‘You were not yourself. Think nothing of it.’
He sat down on the bed again and the room seemed to revolve. He lay flat on his stomach and waited for things to settle down. She touched him gently on the shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll feel better soon.’
‘I certainly hope so. I’m not used to this.’
‘I found some new clothes. And some new armour. And a proper bow with real arrows. There is one for each of us.’
‘You have been busy.’
‘There is no need to sound so bitter. I have managed to collect some supplies as well. We won’t be any worse off for the time we spent here. We might even be better off.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I think the ones pursuing us may have passed us by. I saw no sign of them when I went up to take a look.’
‘You saw no sign of them? When you went up to take a look? What were you thinking?’
‘I was thinking that we need to know what was going on. I was thinking that I need to know what is going on. And I am thinking that I am your queen and it is not your place to use that tone of voice with me.’
‘You could have got yourself killed or captured.’
‘Why? Because you were not there? You were unconscious. I doubt that you could have protected me.’
‘It seems like you have been protecting me rather than vice versa.’
‘I would not be here now if it had not been for you. I am grateful. And I’m going to need your help again, if we are to get out of here alive.’ She sounded a little embarrassed and a little defensive.
‘I need to something to eat,’ he said, ‘if it is not beneath your royal dignity to serve me.’
‘I think I might stoop to that,’ she said. ‘Just don’t expect it to become a habit.’
He could see that she had already prepared waybread and cold meat. He began to eat slowly. The magic in the food lent him some strength and settled his stomach. A few moments later he felt himself sinking back into sleep. The Everqueen seemed to be singing a song. It sounded like a lullaby, but there was magic in it. He wondered what it was for.
Tyrion woke, sensing the presence of someone near. He looked around and saw Alarielle stretched beside him, fast asleep. With her eyes closed she looked much younger and much more vulnerable. He rose as softly as he could and padded across the chamber, head cocked to one side, listening for the presence of intruders.
He found clean new clothes in a neat pile lying near the bed. He donned the underwear, the linen shirts and then the leather jerkin and trousers of an Avelorn woods ranger. It felt more natural and more comfortable than the dark elf equipment that he had been wearing for so long before they came to this place.
He had to lace up the shirt and jerkin very gently because his wound still pained him – less than it had for some time, but still he sensed that it had the potential to become agonising. It was only a matter of time before the poison in it claimed his life.
So far, nothing that Alarielle had attempted had managed to clear his system of the witch elf’s deadly venom. He strapped Sunfang onto his belt and did some gentle stretching exercises. The waybread and the elixirs had done their work. He no longer felt weak.
He padded through the tunnel-corridors of the Winterwood Palace. The place was vast and empty. The air was damp but warm. He felt himself starting to sweat, but it was a natural sweat, not the sweat of fever. He understood Alarielle’s need to get out of this place. He felt a craving for fresh air himself. He thought that he could find his way back to the chamber in which the Everqueen slept. He pushed on, back along the route that had taken them to the chamber in the first place. He was heading for the exit.
As he did so, from up ahead he heard the sound of voices, speaking in the accents of Naggaroth. Swiftly, he backed away along the corridor and made his way back to the sleeping chamber. He shook Alarielle. She murmured something and turned over in her sleep. He shook again, more violently this time, and put his hand over her mouth so that she would not make any loud noises. She started to struggle against him, as if she feared what he was doing.
‘Hush,’ he whispered. ‘They have found us.’
She nodded understanding and he took his hand off her mouth, still aware of the warmth of her breath against his palm. ‘Where are they?’
‘Down the corridor.’<
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‘How many?’
‘I did not wait to see. More than one.’
‘I’m surprised you did not just slaughter them.’
‘I prefer having you as an audience while I perform my heroics.’
‘I am gratified to find that I have some part in your life.’
She spoke softly and in a joking tone, but he could see the fear in her eyes. She had the hunted, wild beast look to her again. It could not be pleasant, knowing that Malekith wanted you as his prisoner.
‘We need to get going. You’ll have to show me the other way out. We can’t go back the way we got in.’
‘What if they are watching the other exits?’
‘That’s a chance we will just have to take.’
Alarielle strapped the Moonstaff to her back, and snatched up her bow and her quiver of arrows. ‘This way,’ she said.
Tyrion followed her out into the corridor. He glanced right to make sure that none of the intruders had found them and then raced off after her.
‘There is another way out,’ Alarielle said. ‘We just need to–’
Tyrion pushed her back into the sleeping chamber. A crossbow bolt flashed past her head. He heard one dark elf shout at the other, ‘Don’t shoot, idiot! The reward is greater for taking her alive.’
Tyrion stepped back into the chamber. They were trapped. There was no other way out. The dark elves could simply shoot them if they stepped out into the corridor. All they had to do was wait and bring up more soldiers.
‘We waited too long. I’m sorry,’ said the Everqueen.
‘It’s not your fault,’ Tyrion said. ‘If I had not become sick…’
‘I could give myself up and they would not hurt you,’ Alarielle said. Tyrion shook his head. He heard footsteps coming closer down the corridor. It would not be long now.
He drew Sunfang. Caledor’s magic sword blazed brightly in his hand. He had left the doorway open. A dark elf, armoured and carrying a crossbow, appeared in it. Behind him there was another, with even more out of sight. Tyrion sprang forwards, even as the druchii aimed. Sunfang described a blazing arc downwards and smashed through the crossbow, setting it alight, before burying itself in the dark elf’s chest.