"I want to see its face," Illidian told her.
The ground was shaking, and the flaming portion of the monster's side closed to fifteen yards as it stamped toward their position.
Drutha's third globe soared into the air and splashed across a long, broad, snakelike head, and Elyana's following arrow set that face aflame. The beast slowed, shaking its head from side to side, and Illidian launched his attack, arrow after arrow flying forward. Each one sank near the scaly maw, now twisting madly from right to left.
Lisette frowned. This was fine and well if you were just trying to hit the beast, but she needed it to stand still so she could shoot it through its eye.
"Now!" Drelm cried, and, axe raised, charged out and away from the beast. Grellen mirrored his course on the left, swinging wide before driving back in to avoid the thing's unseen tentacles.
It would be very easy to fire now, take Drelm in the back of the head, and claim it was an accident. But Lisette was veteran enough to know the battle was not yet won, and that Drelm was a tremendous asset so long as they were in the thick of the fight. She aimed her barrel toward the flaming head, saw it rising. The beast was opening its mouth to spray.
Illidian called out a warning to Elyana, and the elf and Drutha dashed to the right, Elyana throwing herself to the ground in advance of the halfling's racing mount. The spray seared the ground only a yard from Aladel, who returned a gleaming arrow that lodged in the creature's jaw. As the monster roared, Lisette finally saw the outline of an eye socket betrayed by Drutha's chemical attack. She fired.
The monster's roar choked off, and Lisette let out a little cry of victory. Rather than race forward to wield either pistol, she bent to reload the gun.
Drelm, meanwhile, chopped repeatedly into the monster's side with his axe. Grellen, a few steps behind, was whipped aside by something—the monster's tail, perhaps—and tumbled out into the moonlight.
Another unseen force buffeted Elyana aside, then whisked Drutha and her dog into the air, the pair screaming and whining as they hurtled to the right. They bounced with a cracking of bones and gear.
Through this all, Illidian and Aladel kept up a steady flight of arrows. Cyrelle's dogs had fastened on one stumplike leg and sent blood streaming, and Cyrelle herself was hacking at that forelimb with her sword. Grellen had pulled himself back up and joined her.
Melias seemed content with waving her wand and shouting odd phrases, like a child playacting.
They'd done a lot of damage, and fire continued to eat away at the beast's side and head. The creature was stamping frantically to left and right, perhaps in an effort to put out the flames, and Lisette put off waiting for the perfect shot and fired any time she was certain she'd strike the head.
Beside her, Illidian muttered low under his breath. He and Aladel were down to a handful of arrows. Elyana might have been completely out, for she was dashing forward, sword drawn.
That's when a blinding flash of light burned on the right. Lisette cursed foully and shielded her eyes.
"Stop this at once!" a bold, male voice demanded. "Kings of the Wilewood! Step forth!"
Still Lisette could barely see, but through slitted lids she could make out three robed figures amid the glare, each holding a staff.
The command continued to ring out, echoing as if it reflected from cavern walls.
"It's the Oakstewards," Aladel said, voice dulled in wonder.
"No elves are permitted within the Wilewood," announced a female voice, just as stern. "You know this, yet you have permitted their presence!"
Lisette's vision cleared at last. She now saw why the rest of her group wasn't still beating on the monster: the damned thing had vanished completely, along with the flame that had engulfed it. Arrows that had stood out from its body now littered the forest floor.
Woodlock and Snowlock rose in a swirl of plants and leaves littering the clearing and stepped up to the three robed interlopers standing near the oak.
Elyana shouted for Cyrelle and Illidian to check Drutha and hurried to where Grellen struggled to rise.
The glare faded, and as Illidian rushed toward the dead or dying halfling, Lisette studied the three figures. Their voices were no longer being cast wide for all to hear, but sounds of outrage rose from the fey kings. Muttering and calls could be heard likewise from the dark of the surrounding trees. Lisette picked up the words "exception" and "trespass" and "sacred" among the complaints.
"What's going on?" Lisette worked quickly to reload, starting with her rifle.
"Those are almost assuredly Oakstewards," Aladel answered, his gaze focused on the strange trio. "The druids who rule Sevenarches. I didn't know they held so much sway with the folk of the Wilewood."
"Does this mean the challenge is over? Can I shoot Calvonis?"
"We'd best not leave the ring to look for him," Aladel warned.
Lisette finished loading her rifle, then strode up to join the conversation.
There were three Oakstewards: a matronly woman with red hair; a younger, pudgy bald man with a thick rust-brown beard; and their leader, tall and stern with a short gray beard.
Both of the fey kings were aghast that anyone would interfere with their competition, but the Oakstewards were adamant that a sacred trust had been broken the moment the fey permitted an elf within their lands.
"What about us, then?" Lisette asked, one hand on her pistol butt. "We agreed to fight for this king, and we were winning. How are you going to square that?"
The tall leader shifted his gaze to take in Lisette.
"Who are you, who does not know that elves are forbidden within any portion of Sevenarches?"
"We're what's left of the group chasing the beast murdering folks across the River Kingdoms. And you Oakstewards should know all about it, because you sent one of yours along with us."
All three of the Oakstewards were staring at her now, and the two fey kings had fallen completely silent.
"You are of the group stalking the beast?" the leader asked. "Where is our brother, then?"
"He's dead." Lisette felt a surge of pleasure at the dismay that spread over the faces of the three she faced.
Elyana stepped up to her side, her hair unbound and windblown, a bloodied hand resting on the pommel of her sword. The moon reflected in her eyes, and in its light she looked carved of silver and shadows.
"I am Elyana Sadrastis," she said with a queen's dignity, "and I speak for us. Who are you?"
The elder druid answered her haughtily. "I am Kilvor Edegren, head steward of the Eastern Reach. Do you know what you've done?"
Lisette saw the elven woman's eyes narrow. "I have led a team of warriors after the summoner behind the attacks upon the River Kingdoms. It's you who fail to see what you've done."
"And what is that?" Kilvor demanded.
"The champion of King Woodlock is the summoner who controls the beast. We were winning the fight with him."
The redhead indicated Lisette with a bob of the staff she carried. "This woman says one of ours was slain by the summoner."
"Yes," Elyana replied. "We were betrayed from within before we crossed the border."
Kilvor's frown deepened. "Elves are forbidden in these lands. All know it."
"So I've heard," Elyana snapped. "But the monster's summoner is here, now. Have these fey turn him over, that we may have justice."
"That I will not do!" Woodlock said, and his eerie head pivoted, neckless, to regard Elyana with burning eyes. "He controls my champion, and is inviolate except upon the field of combat!"
"We weren't inviolate until we reached the field of combat," Lisette pointed out. She forced a smile when the glowing eyes turned upon her, for it seemed then she could feel their burning malevolence.
Kilvor addressed her, his voice a modicum less stern. "You cannot trust the bargains of those from the First World. Their understanding is...different from our own."
"We bargained in good faith." Elyana pointed to Kilvor. "If you wish us to leave the Wil
ewood, we shall do so. But so too should the summoner, so that both kings must find a new champion."
Lisette thought that a clever point. It set both fey kings arguing with one another so that they seemed once again more like children than deadly and capricious monsters.
"You admit you knew you weren't welcome here," the redheaded Oaksteward said to Elyana. "And yet you came."
Elyana's jaw clenched, and it took a moment for her to answer. "I know you don't mean to sound thick, so maybe you don't understand. I've lost six members of my expedition to that bastard, and scores of innocents have perished because of him. He was heading into the Wilewood, so I followed."
"What's so special about the border anyway?" Lisette asked.
"That's none of your concern," Kilvor snapped. "And your interference in this matter has made things worse. I will speak to the kings. Please await me apart from us."
Lisette looked to Elyana, who sketched a half-formal bow and retreated. Lisette followed.
"That bit about both champions being released was a fine point," Lisette told her.
"We'll see if it makes any difference."
The rest of their group waited for them. Three bodies lay in a row on the sward; two more of Cyrelle's hounds, and Drutha. Lisette was surprised to feel a cold shock at sight of her body. She supposed that she'd liked the halfling woman.
"I managed to save her dog," Elyana said coolly, "and another of Cyrelle's. But there was nothing I could do for her." Though there was no change of expression, her voice softened. "I liked her."
Illidian all but gnashed his teeth in fury as Elyana caught him up on events. Lisette kept her eyes on the three Oakstewards and the two fey kings, deep in talk.
This, she thought, was a damnable job. One of the worst she'd ever signed on for. The kind of job that had inspired her to leave the Black Coil to start with. She'd been a damned fool to take it on.
Kilvor remained in conversation with the two fey kings, but the other Oakstewards walked down from the tree to join the expedition, the hems of their long dark robes trailing after.
The pudgy druid set his staff into the ground, then bowed his head in turn at Elyana, Lisette, and Illidian. "We are making arrangements," he told them. "But negotiations with the fey are difficult."
His companion, the redheaded woman, just couldn't hold off saying more. "You should not have come here. You should immediately have consulted with the Oakstewards."
"Shut up, woman," Lisette snapped.
Elyana shushed her as the woman's expression soured further.
"There was no time to waste finding you," Elyana explained coolly.
"You should have made the time," the woman insisted. "And what possessed you to make any kind of agreement with the fey?"
"A moment's peace, sister," the man urged. "I am Hindreck, and this is Shalon, and we can tend to your injuries, if you have any."
Elyana bowed her head briefly in acknowledgment. "I am a fair healer, but some of my group are wounded. Illidian, would you take Hindreck to Aladel and Grellen? And have Cyrelle show him the dogs."
Illidian nodded once. "This way."
Hindreck headed off. Shalon remained, frowning.
"Did we hurt you personally?" Lisette asked her. "Killing the monster's more important than your customs."
"They're not customs," the woman retorted, "they're laws!" Her gaze turned once more to Elyana. "Do we traipse into Kyonin, then ask for your permission?"
"I'm not from Kyonin," Elyana said simply.
"So this is revenge," Lisette said to the druid, "for the elves not letting you into Kyonin?"
Shalon exploded with fury. "This isn't your affair! None of you should be here, not in the Wilewood. And no elves!"
In her weird way, the redhead was like one of those society matrons Lisette used to know in Cheliax, whose noses went all out of joint any time someone dared alter a color scheme from the prescribed ball decorations. She was a creature of orders and laws for their own sake and might not even understand the intent behind them.
Fortunately, they were saved the need for further comment when the fey kings turned and Snowlock called for attention.
Kilvor waited to one side, his hands folded over one another on the middle of his oaken staff.
Both kings spoke at once with the same words, their voices identical save that one was lush and vibrant, the other brittle and cold.
"Subjects, we kings have decided that this contest was a draw. All champions are to be released from their bargains with us, and new champions will be chosen. Former champions and their masters are guests of the Wilewood and are not to be interfered with, but must leave at their earliest convenience. So speak we, the kings of the Wilewood."
The two strange beings then dissolved once more into detritus, and the air was filled with the chirruping of insects.
The fey who had watched from the circle's edges, and the kings themselves, were gone. Somehow, that was more unsettling than anything else Lisette had witnessed this evening.
"Where's the summoner?" Elyana demanded of Kilvor.
"That's not your concern," Shalon snapped. She looked as though she planned more, but swifter than Lisette could draw breath, Elyana snatched the woman's collar and drew her close to the blade of her gleaming knife. Lisette hadn't even seen the elf pull it, and was stunned by both the speed and the sense that the elf had snapped. Until then she'd assumed Elyana was one of those who kept razor-sharp control, even when pushed to the edge.
"You damned well know it's my concern now, don't you?" Elyana asked.
Lisette laughed at the madness of the situation. She didn't know what would happen next, but she raised her pistol.
"Unhand her!" Kilvor roared. He hurried toward them, staff raised as if he meant to call down lightning.
Elyana shoved Shalon away and stood with narrowed eyes. "That thing's killed almost half my party. We had it wounded, and by the terms of the fey contract, it could not withdraw." Her voice rose to a roar. "And you set its master free! Where's the summoner now, Oaksteward?"
If looks could have killed, Elyana would have dropped dead from the venom in Shalon's eyes.
"King Woodlock has given him safe conduct to the western edge of the Wilewood," Kilvor declared, "and will not disclose to me where he will go. But I shall have all of the Oakstewards and other resources at my disposal watching for him."
"And us," Elyana said. "You will take us to the western edge of the Wilewood."
"That I cannot do. But I can I transport all elves to the western border of Sevenarches. Immediately."
"You're a damned fool," Elyana told him.
"I'm sorry you think so. You will keep your hands, and your weapons, from my people."
"Take us, then," Elyana said, not so much a request as an order.
"If that is what you wish."
"What I wish—" Elyana began, baring her teeth, and then fell silent. "What I wish does not bear repeating." She slammed her knife home in its sheath.
paizo.com #3236236, Corry Douglas
Chapter Thirteen
Helping Hands
Elyana
She had not meant to care. Not this time. Casualties had been certain. Yet she had not expected so many, and as if to drive the knife into the wound, she counted the bedrolls as they were spread that evening. So few were left.
A huddle of tents lay a few yards to the right. The Oakstewards had a blazing fire, and six of them now sat beside the dancing flames. A seventh, Shalon, stood apart, watching the expedition. Elyana could feel the woman's ire like a tremor through the earth.
The polite course of action would have been to turn away, but Elyana bared her teeth and stared harder. Sheer willpower had stayed her hand when the Oakstewards arrived. The monster had been weakening, and in a few more minutes she was sure they could have brought it down. Then Calvonis would have been hers.
But because of the high-handed Oakstewards, all the injuries and deaths h
ad been for nothing.
The Oakstewards had used their magic to transport them to the crumbling walls of an old outpost just beyond the border of Sevenarches, where they'd erected this camp and fed her people, though Elyana had refused their aid for herself. The druids claimed they would deal with the summoner as he rode west from the Wilewood. Miles of open ground lay between the edge of the Wilewood and the western border of the Oaksteward's domain, and the druids assured her the summoner could not possibly escape their seasoned experts.
Elyana turned as Shalon finally looked away. She considered the camp. Drutha's dog, Emblid, now saddleless, lay near to but apart from Cyrelle's pack, somberly restive. Elyana's people had thrown down their bags along one of five long wall segments left of the old outpost, near what must once have been a flying buttress. One arch still rose grandly, breaking off in mid span.
She walked past the silent members of her group sitting beside the dying fire in the chill breeze. Fall would come in hard this year, with winter on its heels, and its fingers lay hands against the spines of her comrades. They were hunched close, those few who remained, where before they had been apart. Not even the elves had bothered with their tents.
Only Cyrelle sat alone, a few lance-lengths out, on an oddly shaped boulder, her hawk on her gloved wrist. She was feeding the animal little bits of dried flesh, which it leveraged with its little beak to better swallow.
"Balok seems hungry tonight," Elyana observed softly.
"It's been a long day," Cyrelle answered.
That it had. It was hard to believe they had come so far. That with the morning Drutha and Galarias and Karag had been alive. Back then, what seemed a hundred years ago, Calvonis had seemed their ally, and she would have risked her life to preserve him. Now there was no man in the world she would rather see dead.
Cyrelle reached into a little leather pouch and offered up another wet strand of meat to the hawk. "Do you ever wish we were like them?"
Elyana felt as though she had missed something. "Like who?"
Stalking the Beast Page 18