The Shadow Elf

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The Shadow Elf Page 6

by Terry Spear


  The river elves’ blue eyes bulged in terror.

  “She’s dead,” the one choked out, his blue-violet eyes darkening. His lip quivered and he swallowed hard.

  Dracolin’s blood chilled. “You do not speak the truth! She’s too much of a prize for your king to kill her.”

  “He…he feared her.”

  Dracolin took a ragged breath. She was an evil enchantress after all. “Why? What did she do?”

  “She’s…she’s a high elf!”

  Dracolin stared at the elf as his face had drained of all color.

  Balon snickered. “She’s no more a high elf than any of us are.”

  “She…she used magic,” another said, the smallest of the three. His cheeks still were pudgy because of his youth. Eleven or twelve, maybe, Dracolin estimated.

  Dracolin sucked in his breath. She couldn’t be a high elf. Not only wasn’t her hair the color of the sun, she didn’t have their distinctive elf ears. She had green eyes, when theirs were golden in color. But the notion she used magic meant she could be dangerous, not defenseless, as he had thought before. Then again the notion occurred to him, why had she not used her magic to strike down the river elves when they attempted to take her captive? “What kind of magic?”

  “She…she made the safronis rise off the table and brought it to her,” the one he had pinned down said.

  Dracolin looked at Balon and the prince. Both raised their dark brows at him.

  “She did nothing threatening?”

  “We have been at war with the high elves for years. Of course her show of magic was threatening,” the elf said, his voice now hostile. “But not only that, she melted the guards’ swords!” He swallowed with difficulty this time.

  Dracolin touched his own sword. Even high elves couldn’t melt metal. What in the world was she? “Show us her body.”

  “We can’t.”

  “You wish to die?”

  The elf looked at his companions. The smallest shrugged. “She has been moved to the dungeons. If the shadow elves want a dead high elf, what difference does it make?”

  The violet-blue eyed elf glared at Dracolin. “You promise to let us go unharmed afterward?”

  “You have my word.”

  He glanced at Balon and the prince. “And theirs?”

  “And ours,” the prince said, lifting his chin.

  “Very well. We will take you to the dead elf.”

  Dracolin let him up, but kept his sword leveled at the younger teen’s chest. “Show us and be quick about it.”

  Dracolin should have been pleased that the river elves had destroyed her. If the girl was some kind of evil enchantress with magical powers, the fact she had died would save his people from death and destruction.

  And yet the notion plagued him that she had not killed the river elves. Why did she not fight back? Why did she let them kill her? None of it made sense.

  “Why would the girl not use her magic to destroy you?”

  The river elf scoffed. “Do you think us stupid?”

  Often. Dracolin raised his brows to punctuate the thought that flashed through his mind.

  The river elf scowled at him. “She was sufficiently drugged at all times.”

  Dracolin’s heart sank as they trudged across a rocky beach, heading for an outcropping of orange and yellow-striped cliffs that jutted into the inlet. Here, two more brightly painted blue fishing boats lay beached, waiting for the river elves to shove them out to sea for another fishing expedition. The smell of fish permeated the air and four gulls shrieked overheard, then dove with a splash into the briny sea. Soon after, they flew from the white caps with a red-scaled strumpet fish in each of their beaks.

  Dracolin had so hoped Persephonice hadn’t used her powers because she didn’t have any, or at least nothing that was dangerous. And he’d hoped if she had dangerous abilities, she hadn’t used them because she hadn’t the heart to do so. This certainly shed a different light on the whole matter.

  Of course what difference did it make now? She was dead.

  “Don’t you fear the high elves’ retaliation for what you’ve done?”

  “King Landers says she is an outcast.”

  King Landers was a simple fool. There was no way the petite redhead was a high elf. She wasn’t an elf at all.

  Then another thought occurred to Dracolin. She said she was an overseer. Was it some kind of a prophet who was even higher and more knowing than their seer?

  Killing a seer would bring ill winds to all of their kind. Destroying an overseer…he shuddered.

  “She is an overseer, you fool,” Dracolin said.

  “A what?”

  “A prophet more powerful than a seer. By killing her, you’ve condemned all of us.”

  The river elves’ blue eyes widened.

  “If we’re lucky, she’ll still be alive and won’t punish us too greatly for your actions.”

  The river elves speeded up their walk. As they grew close to the cave’s entrance, they pointed. “In there.”

  Dracolin studied the rising tide, then shook his head. “We cannot enter the cave.” He poked his sword at the tallest elf. “You go in and get her.”

  “She…she is dead.”

  “Bring her to me and prove it.”

  The river elf shook his head, his blue curly hair bouncing on his shoulders.

  “I promise to free you and your companions if you do this for me.”

  The river elf looked back at his friends, and they nodded their heads vigorously. But the paleness of his cheeks indicated he’d rather do anything than the task ahead of him.

  The elf moved closer to the water. Suddenly, mer-creatures appeared and screeched at the river elf.

  Dracolin frowned to see the merfolks’ reaction to the river elf. “I thought you had an alliance with the merfolk.”

  “One of them wanted the girl, and the king wouldn’t let him have her.”

  “What?” She truly was a mermaid after all?

  “She tried to swim out to sea using one of our canals. The brother of the local merman king wanted her. He was pretty incensed King Landers wouldn’t let him have her.”

  Dracolin shook his head. “A merman wouldn’t want a creature that wasn’t a mermaid.”

  “She’s half mermaid. She spoke to him even.”

  Dracolin groaned. The girl was half mermaid. That’s why she wouldn’t answer his question when he’d asked her if she was a mermaid. The shadow elves had no alliance with the merfolk.

  The merfolk pounded the serf with their silver and bronze tails and screeched at the elves. Their green eyes glared at them, just daring them to enter their habitat. Their red hair floated on the surface of the water as they treaded in place, whispering to one another, then screeching again at the elves.

  “I can’t go in there. They’d drown me for sure as angry as they are.”

  Then Dracolin heard a muffled sound from deep within the cavern. He strained to hear another sound above the water that lapped at the rocky beach.

  All of the merfolk looked in that direction, momentarily distracted.

  “Persephonice?” Dracolin hollered and poked his sword at the elf again.

  “Dracolin,” he thought he heard a distant, frantic voice say, though he thought it might have only been the breeze and his overwrought imagination conjuring up her response.

  He glanced at the prince and Balon, but their eyes bugged out, and he realized he really had heard Persephonice.

  “Hold on! We’re sending a river elf to get you.”

  “I can’t go into the water!” the elf objected. “Look!” He motioned to the water as the mer-creatures again screeched their displeasure.

  “Persephonice?” Dracolin called out, disheartened not to hear her response. Had they come so close to rescuing her, only to lose her now?

  “Persephonice! Hold on!”

  “She is an overseer,” the smallest river elf said. “We’re all doomed.”

  Chapter 9

&
nbsp; Persephonice managed to roll over to her steel bars, then she grabbed hold of one. The cold metal instantly melted with her touch. Then she did the same to another.

  “Do mine, too!” the high elf cried out.

  The water had already risen another half a foot. “I wish you could get me free from this fishnet.” She took a deep breath and rolled across the floor.

  Movement in a cell she hadn’t noticed before caught her eye. A small dragon covered in golden scales, and no bigger than a foot high fluttered in the air inside the middle cage. He hissed to the high elf.

  “Yes, yes, the strange girl will free you, too.”

  “What is it?” She rolled again toward the high elf’s cell.

  “My fairy dragon familiar. Tal.”

  “Can he…”

  “She.”

  “Oh, sorry, my mistake. Can she do anything about this fishnet?”

  “I’ll free you once you free me.”

  She wanted the high elf to promise. Would he fear her magic was greater than his own? She was quickly learning not to trust these elf kinds.

  “Persephonice!” she thought she heard Dracolin call over the sound of the waves beyond the cells. “Dracolin?” she called back to him, but got a mouth full of water as she rolled over.

  “You know Dracolin?”

  “Yes, he’s a friend.” The only friend she had on this strange world.

  Suddenly, the fishnet caught on something on the floor. In a panic, she groaned. She had reached the halfway point, and now the net was stuck.

  “Why aren’t you moving toward me? Hurry!”

  “Zorak, I’m stuck. Do you have any magic at all that you can use in here?”

  “The ore in the rocks of this cave prevent my use of magic. I don’t see how you…” He quit speaking.

  She stopped struggling and looked up at him. “What?”

  “Well, I forget you’re not one of my kind.”

  She smiled and yanked some more at the fishnet. “But the river elves think so.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, and you’re half mermaid, too.”

  Tal hissed, “She looks like a mermaid.”

  “Yes, but I don’t have a fishtail,” she said. She jerked the net free. “Ah, thank the goddess.”

  She looked back at Zorak, figuring he’d be pleased, but was surprised at his silence. His mouth had dropped open and his eyes had grown wide again.

  “What’s the matter?” She tried to inch toward him as the water slapped at her chin.

  “You speak fairy dragon?”

  She smiled. “That’s all the matter. Don’t tell me you now think I’m a fairy dragon.”

  His blond brows pinched together. “Of course not. I’m not a fairy dragon and can speak with Tal just fine. But only high elves can do such a thing.”

  “Ah. Well, then we’re back to my being a high elf.”

  “Are you from another region?” He shook his head. “That’s a stupid question. Of course you’re not from around here. So are you a…” He rubbed his chin. “You have rounded ears. You can’t be an elf.”

  “You’re absolutely right. But all that matters is that I’m going to get you out of your cell, and you’re going to get me out of this blasted fishnet.”

  As soon as she made it to the grate, she grabbed for two of the metal rods. He reached down to lift her so her head was above the rising water.

  But as soon as he was free, he hesitated to untie the ropes that bound her.

  “I won’t harm you, Zorak. The river elves want us both dead. I don’t wish any harm to come to you or Tal.”

  The dragon hissed, “Release her so she can release me!”

  Zorak held her above the rising water, but he still hesitated. Then he nodded. “I thank you for your kindness, Persephonice.” Within seconds, he’d untied the ropes and pulled the net free.

  She slogged through the water to the last cell. After grabbing the bars, she melted them quickly, and at last the familiar was free.

  “Thank you, creature,” the dragon said.

  “But now what?” Zorak asked, as he hurried to the bolted door. “We can’t get out this way. Inside the castle I could use my magic, but unless you can open the door…”

  She shook her head as she touched the wooden door. “It’s steel on the other side, wooden on this side. I can’t do anything with it. We’ll have to swim out and try to make it to shore.”

  “I can’t swim.”

  “I’ll help you, but you must trust me.” She glanced back at Tal.

  The fairy dragon hissed, “I will fly above.”

  They weren’t free yet. But hopefully the merfolk were still back in the canals giving the river elves hard time.

  “Float on your back, Zorak, and I’ll do the rest.”

  ***

  Dracolin waded a few inches into the water. The only sound that he heard was the washing of the waters against the cave and rocky bank.

  “We can’t swim!” Balon said. “Come out of the water at once.”

  “The merfolk will drown you, as angry as they appear to be,” the prince said.

  “I’m not attempting to swim, but to draw closer. I’m trying to hear what I can.”

  Dracolin strained to listen as he thought he heard splashing like swimmers approaching him. “Persephonice!”

  Suddenly he saw her, but the merfolk had, too. Dracolin raced back to the shore. “Ready the boat!”

  “I’m not going out there!” the tallest of the river elves said.

  Dracolin pointed his sword at his chest. “I won’t tell you again. And the others. Everyone get the boat into the water.”

  “Not us,” the prince said.

  “No, you stay on shore with Balon. Only the river elves and I will rescue Persephonice.” If he and Persephonice drowned it would be one thing. His friends would still be alive to tell the tale. He wished no harm to come to them, too.

  The river elves hurried to move the boat into the water and boarded while Dracolin joined them. As soon as he saw the golden fairy dragon flying low over the water, he knew a high elf had to be nearby. And then he saw him in the water as Persephonice attempted to swim him toward the shore. His heart hammered as the merfolk dove underneath and around them in a frenzy. Undoubtedly they wanted her, but weren’t happy she had hold of the elf.

  “Persephonice!”

  “Dracolin, oh help us!”

  Her voice pleaded with him like a girl who was in desperate trouble, not like a wicked enchantress who lured him to his demise. And yet the merfolk could swamp their small boat, he feared.

  She lifted her chin higher from the water and hissed at the fairy dragon. Dracolin couldn’t believe his eyes or his ears. She’d spoken to the fairy dragon. Only a high elf could do such a thing. But high elves couldn’t swim.

  The dragon shot a blue mist from its mouth at one, then another of the mer-creatures. Each time, the merman or woman would close their eyes, then sink into the water. Soon most of the merfolk had disappeared.

  Dracolin reached over the side of the craft and grabbed for Persephonice’s arm.

  “No, Dracolin, Zorak. Take him first. I can swim. He can’t. He’s paralyzed with fear of the water.”

  Prince Zorak. The high elf king’s own son. She couldn’t be wicked if she helped to save him. But Dracolin wanted to save Persephonice first. What if the king merman’s brother attempted to take her just as he was helping the high elf from the water?

  “Watch out!” Balon shouted.

  A blinding pain ripped through the back of Dracolin’s head. A sprinkling of stars across black velvet clouded his vision. He dropped to the bottom of the boat and his cheek smacked the wooden floor hard. Then everything faded to black.

  “You were supposed to knock him out of the boat, you fool!” the tallest river elf said.

  Tal dove at the boat and sprayed a blue mist at each of the river elves, putting them to sleep.

  “Dracolin!” Persephonice screamed as she felt a tug on her foot. One of
the mer-creatures was attempting to pull her under without surfacing, most likely fearing the fairy dragon’s magic.

  “Dracolin!” Her heart pounded with fear that the river elves had killed him. “Zorak, can you climb into the boat without assistance?”

  Zorak’s eyes were dark gold with anxiety as he reached up to the boat.

  “Hurry, Zorak, before the mer-creatures take me away.”

  He struggled to lift himself into the boat as the dragon grabbed at his shirt with her claws and pulled.

  Persephonice gripped the boat with all of her strength as a mer-creature tried to drag her under. And then another grabbed her other leg. She’d never make it. “Hurry, Zorak,” she said under her breath. “Hurry.”

  He reached over the side and seized her arm, but one high elf pulling one way, wasn’t enough against the two strong mer-creatures who tugged her the other way. Tal dove down and grabbed the fabric at her shoulders and heaved.

  “Zorak, pull,” she pleaded, as she felt his hand slipping on her arm, and she sank lower in the water.

  “Pull!”

  Suddenly, Dracolin leaned over the side and grabbed her other arm and pulled with all his might. She lifted significantly from the water.

  “Hurry, Dracolin!” Balon shouted.

  They all looked to see a gigantic wave headed toward them. Undoubtedly, the mer-creatures had called on a water elemental, something she’d read about in her myths and legends of other worlds, to help them get the half mermaid.

  Then with Zorak’s help, Dracolin pulled Persephonice into the boat. “Grab an oar,” he shouted, then seized one.

  The dragon swooped down and grasped the craft’s towrope and pulled them toward shore.

  Persephonice yanked an oar out from under the tallest sleeping river elf, then plunged the oar into the water.

  “No!” Dracolin shouted at her.

  She frowned at him. “I’m not going to sit back and watch you save us when I can—”

  All of a sudden the oar she held was pulled so hard into the water, she nearly fell overboard.

  Dracolin ditched his oar and grabbed her around the waist as the merman used his powerful tail to rise up in the water and grab for her.

 

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