by L. R. Flint
“What do you think you were doing?” he stormed at me. He turned to Izar, but she had something ready.
“Hey, I went after him when I found him gone,” she defended.
“Well, then you should have made him come back when you got to him.” My sister huffed and folded her arms. While the wizard’s attention had been directed elsewhere, I had lowered Arrats gently to the ground, so when Koldobika turned back to me, the boy’s condition quieted him and he came and knelt beside me.
“What have they done?” he whispered, suddenly looking old, and enfeebled by grief.
26 ESCAPE
Koldobika let me heal the whip cuts on Arrats’ back while he sat by, watching. I placed my hands gently on the boy’s torn skin, and envisioned the wounds healing. Small tendrils of magic slithered down the crevasses of the wounds, and as the magic passed over and through the flesh, it grew back together, and the forming scabs shrank into nonexistence—or fell off, depending on their size. Wherever there were bruises, they would also disappear as the healing magic passed through the tissues. I rolled my friend over so that he was lying on his back again. “I do not think that anything should be done for the deeper bruises and whatever harm that was done that is invisible to the naked eye,” the wizard said, and I nodded my understanding.
Without turning around, I mentioned to Ekaitz that he might want to gather any belongings that would be wanted by either him, Eskarne, or Arrats, because we might have company soon. I placed the tips of my fingers on Arrats’ temples, and ducked my head in concentration. Calling upon Lietha, I thought of healing and being refreshed, intent on healing the bruises nearer the surface. I let the sparks of magic flow over Arrats’ skin for a while, until I could sense the weariness leaving him. I did not look, for a minute, to see if the bruises were actually gone, because I still was unsure of the extent of my abilities and how well my experiment would work.
I was glad to see that the dark patches of skin had indeed turned back to their natural color. I fervently prayed that he would be well inside, but for that I would have to wait for him to wake. I stood, and found the wizard looking at me, a sign of deep thought in his expression. “We will speak with Basajaun of your abilities when we return,” he said. I hoped that was a good thing.
“Are you still going to rebuke me over retrieving him?”
The wizard shook his head. “It was stupid, but a morally wise choice.”
I let a half smile crease my face. “I went last night because I knew you would never allow me to go near a place more highly infested by Guards.”
“Thy honor wouldst not let thee stay,” Argiñe said, a small smile on her lips. I nodded and we looked into each other’s eyes for a moment, letting our thoughts pass between us. She let me know that the daring of my friends and I had impressed her, and then I looked away before anyone could begin to wonder what words were going on between us, and I pondered the other things I had seen in the warrior’s eyes.
“They are coming,” Mattin said. Everyone was silent for a split second and the far-off shouting of Guards could be heard.
“Umm.” I tried to think of some way we could get away without the Guards finding the tunnel, and suddenly came up with an idea that I, at least, thought was mediocre. “You should all leave now; go out through the hole in the Wall. I will stay here long enough to get their attention and then climb over it. Do not worry; I will not stay long enough to get caught.” I let my gaze sweep the faces of all those gathered near me, seeking agreement.
The wizard sighed. “I cannot leave you here. I must protect you, so I will stay and lead them off.”
Everyone else started exiting through the back of the cellar and I turned to follow them. Koldobika was just meandering up the steps as I took a last glance at the small room, before leaving it behind. Ekaitz and Izar were still at the bottom of the cellar so I crouched down and told the boy to climb on my shoulders so that he could hoist himself up the rest of the way. He quickly did so, while my sister leapt to the ground above. I followed the two up and collected Arrats from Mattin. “Will you carry Eskarne?” I asked of him. He nodded and lifted her limp form easily in his arms. “Get going,” I said, and we were off.
We made it quickly to the tunnel and I again led the way through; Ekaitz followed behind me, his excitement overpowering his fear of the chase. “What is it like, Izotz?” he asked. “Is it as wonderful as Koldobika said? And what about, about…” He then realized how little he really knew about the land beyond the Wall, so he just ended with a repeat of, “What is it like?”
I chuckled. “It is both terrifying and wonderful.” I halted just inside the end of the tunnel and peeked out, to make sure the coast was clear. I turned back to my friend. “When you follow me, run as fast as you can across the clearing; do not stop to look at anything, alright?” Ekaitz nodded. “Be on your guard,” I said to the others in the line, and then I bolted from the tunnel. I could hear Ekaitz' footsteps behind me.
I quickly laid Arrats down beside Ekaitz and told him to call a sword from Lietha, as I unsheathed my own, and the rest of the group joined us. A strange feeling began to creep up my spine; it was one I had felt before, in the Eguzki desert. “Oh no.” The whispered words had been Alaia's.
“Is that more magic eaters?” I asked.
“Yes. Do not let them take anyone of this group—no matter what. It is a much better fate to die before they get you, than to let them take you, even barely alive.” I nodded, as did the others, and then a thought struck me.
“What about Koldobika?”
“We will wait here for him. Izotz, let him know where we are.” Using my mind, I searched the surrounding area until I found him, and then I formed a connection of magic between the wizard and me. I waited until he accepted the intrusion of his mind, before speaking.
We are waiting in the edge of the forest, just across from the tunnel.
A second later, he replied, I am on my way.
“He knows where we are,” I informed the dragonlady, and she nodded her thanks.
We waited in trepidation as the preceding sense of the magic eaters’ presence deepened around us and filled us with dread, then suddenly it disappeared. It was at that moment that we noticed Koldobika running along the edge of the forest toward us. The old man was huffing as he came to a stop in front of us, and then looked us over to make sure we were fine.
“Sorry about the sense of a magic eater’s presence,” the wizard said. “I could not get those stupid Guards to stop following me.” At that moment it attacked, I shoved the wizard to the side and swung my sword through the air where his head would have been. The magic eater’s shriveled, clawed hand dropped to the ground and the being screamed in outrage. I sorely desired to protect my ears from the harsh, chilling sound of its scream, but instead I lunged at it again with my sword. That time the creature blocked my blow, and it spun the sword from my grip and sent it flying into the forest where it became buried up to the hilt in a huge oak. The creature grabbed me by the throat and lifted me a few feet into the air. Its touch was cold and clammy and gave me the feeling that my flesh would rot right off my bones. I could feel the magic seeping out of me; it was an absolutely horrid feeling. I lifted myself up with my left hand, holding onto the magic eater’s arm, to keep my head from being ripped off, then I pulled Ganix’ dagger from its sheath and drove it into the cavity where the creature’s heart should have been.
The being sneered at me, while it hissed from the slight pain, so I dragged the dagger through its chest toward the opposite side. As the creature snarled at me, it brought its head and oversized maw closer to me, and I had an idea. I yanked out the dagger and drove it as hard as I could through the bottom of the magic eater’s jaw and up into its brain. Shock registered on its face, and it screamed as it dropped me back to my feet. My dagger dropped to the ground and splintered as the magic eater started to crumble to the ground and then turn to ash. The creature’s remains blew away on a cold breeze that sprang suddenly f
rom nowhere. I picked up the shards from the dagger’s blade; the hilt was still in one piece, so I grabbed it as well and then I turned back to the others.
Everyone was starting to get back to their feet, even Eskarne, who had been awakened by the screams of the monster; Arrats still lay unconscious on the ground, a grimace on his face. Of those who were conscious, Koldobika seemed to be the one who had been affected the least by the creature’s screams. He stepped over to me and placed a hand on my shoulder, he said, “Did you cover your ears when it screamed?” I shook my head and then a sharp pain split through my brain; it felt as if my skull had been crushed and my head was being torn in half.
~ ~ ~
I awoke in a circular room with a tree trunk growing up through the very center of it, there were a few people seated in my vicinity, but the only one I could clearly recognize was Izar. She looked at me worriedly as I tried to sit up. I gave up, a sharp throbbing filling my whole skull, and I weakly said, “We made it.” I had only been partly conscious as we left Caernadvall and made our way to the elven outpost; someone had retrieved my sword and slipped it into my sheath—I remembered that—and someone had always been at my side, helping me to stand and to walk, because the excruciating pain in my skull overpowered my functioning abilities. My vision got blurry as I lay back down, and I felt my eyes going crossed; darkness began to fill my sight as my eyelids closed, unable to fight the tug of sleep.
~ ~ ~
My dreams and waking moments, the latter plagued by pain, were all blurred together, and I eventually gave up on figuring out whether or not I was actually awake. When I found myself in a room full of soft, white light, I believed I was dreaming. The light slowly turned red, and then it changed to normal sunlight. Once the light became normal, I could make out what was around me. I was lying in a hammock under a wood ceiling; at the edges of the ceiling were thin screens, draped to dull the sunlight which filtered into the room. There was a wicker chair at the foot of my bed, and two other hammocks hung to each side of me, but only the one to my right held an occupant.
I sat up, the hammock swayed slightly with my movement, and I looked at the other person in the hammock to see if it was familiar. Arrats’ face peeked out at me from between the sides of his hammock and it dawned on me that I had finally succeeded in bringing my friends to safety. I lay back in the hammock and began to swing it back and forth, out of a lack of anything else to do, because I could not see anyone else around and I did not want to leave Arrats alone. I lay there, and played the trip to—and from—Caernadvall in my mind, while I waited for someone to come and bring me up to date on everything I had missed.
Koldobika approached behind me, so I did not fully realize he was there until he swept the screen away so that he could pass into the room. I saw his shadow on Arrats’ hammock, so I sat up and looked over my shoulder. The wizard smiled at the sight of me awake.
“Does your head hurt at all?” he asked.
“No, but it certainly did before.” The old man chuckled and seated himself in the wicker chair. “How has Arrats been doing? Also, how long have I been unconscious?”
“The boy seems to be doing fine, I believe he is just finishing recovering from whatever the Guards did to him that day he was there; he has not yet awakened since we left Zigor’s kingdom. “You seemed to be constantly in and out of consciousness on the return from Caernadvall, but after arriving here you have been out for almost a whole day.”
“Oh, splendid," I said indifferently. "How is everyone else doing?” I leaned back into the hammock as the wizard told me they were all doing well, and that Argiñe had accepted to teach a number of elves how to use a battle staff with the same characteristics as hers. Ganix had been recruited to create more staves like her own, with retractable blades in both ends, and was busy with that project.
After we had been talking for about an hour, my stomach began grumbling and, soon after that, Ekaitz and Sendoa approached, carrying trays of food. The elf handed the bowl of broth he carried, to Koldobika, who spoon fed it to Arrats, since he could not eat solids in his unconscious state. Ekaitz handed me a tray with bread, cheese, and a few different fruits, and then a flask of lemon-flavored water.
While I ate, Sendoa told me that after he had returned to Baso Argi from his last assignment, he had heard the rumors which flew about me having saved my companions from a magic eater. Ekaitz also told me of the great time he was having amongst the elves and other creatures, and the wonders he had seen that he wished I had been there for. He also told me that Mattin missed having me as an opponent for dueling, while my sister and Eskarne were actually getting to be good friends and were now seen, upon occasion, within a mile of each other. That last part was a joke and everyone but Sendoa laughed—he had not seen the two fighting in Caernadvall and so did not understand the irony.
Once I finished eating, Koldobika shooed away the two visitors; he said that I needed rest, which they were keeping me from. Once they were gone, he brought up the subject of the Council. He told me that Basajaun had made an appointment for me to meet with them in five days’ time so that they could try to determine the limits of my connection with Lietha. Koldobika stayed there until Ekaitz and Alaia joined us, with supper for the wizard and I, and broth for Arrats. They also stayed and talked while I ate, after which they departed.
The wizard did not leave until sunset and I stayed behind with my friend and fell asleep soon after moonrise. I slept well and long into the morning, and when I awoke, Koldobika was already seated in the wicker chair. He handed me a basket of small seedcakes with a pale, lemon icing drizzled on top. After eating the seedcakes I cleared my throat with a draught of icy spring water. “Can I go for a walk, or am I still confined to this hammock?”
The wizard stood. “Yes, you can get up, just stay within the clearing here, for now.” I nodded and swung my legs over the edge of the hanging bed, then stood. My muscles were grateful for the change of position, but they were a little weak from having done nothing for two full days. I swept the screen from my path and walked out onto the lush lawn of green; the grass seemed to be alive because of a soft breeze that ruffled the blades, making them dance. I walked around the field until just before noon, when Koldobika called me back to the screened room. I trotted back to him and found Arrats sitting up, taking in the scenery that was so very different from any he was used to. When he saw me, he smiled. I was glad that he recognized me, since he had not when I had found him in the Guards’ barracks.
“Are you feeling better?” I asked.
“You have no idea,” he laughed. I smiled at the sight of him well again. “So, where am I? Our friend here will not tell me a thing, other than that you came and got me from Caernadvall. So, I merely know one place that I am not.”
“Are there actually any places like this in Zigor’s kingdom?” I asked.
“Zigor?”
“Oh—that is the name of the King of Caernadvall.”
“Oh.” The boy looked at the trees again. “No, there are no places in Caernadvall where you cannot see either the Wall or buildings—at least, none that I am aware of.” He leaned back in the hammock. “Sorry, I just feel a bit weak.”
I smiled, understanding. “You have been asleep for approximately five days, now, I believe.”
My friend closed his eyes and smiled. “Tell me about what you have done since leaving Caernadvall,” he suggested. I sat sideways on my hammock and began from the night I had left him, Eskarne, and Ekaitz and only stopped when two elves—whom I had never before met—brought our lunch.
27 THE COUNCIL
I was attired in plain black as Koldobika and Basajaun led me to the meeting place of the Council. As I had been instructed, I did not carry a single weapon with me, which seemed strange; I was used to the slight weight of my sword, and a dagger or two at my hip, or the bow and a quiver of arrows on my back. The lack of a weapon made me feel naked in a way. As usual, a few of the beings whose paths I crossed throughout the haven bowed t
o me. I smiled and nodded my head in return and greeted those I knew, by name. We walked into a section of the city, nearly at its borders, where I had never been before and stopped in a clearing with a small crowd of ranged faces.
The leaves of the circling trees were a bright green which contrasted nicely with the dark of the huge monoliths’ bark. Warm sunlight filtered through the clearing, playfully glinted off the weapons belonging to the Council members, and brightened the cold-grey stone seats arranged in a solemn circle. The curious faces of eleven of the twelve Council members looked at me, as I followed my two guides into the clearing.
There was a handsome male centaur with nut-brown skin, slightly darker than mine; he had long, braided, black hair falling down his broad shoulders; the horse section of him displayed a fine, glossy coat of midnight black. He wore a huge, two-handed sword strapped at his side, and the fletching of many arrows peeped over his muscled shoulder, and a strung bow was slung over his human back—next to the quiver. He wore no clothes over his human torso—which was not at all uncommon in the haven—and in the spirit of competitiveness, I considered ripping my own shirt off. I decided against that though, since I would only have succeeded in making a fool of myself. His almond shaped eyes were a shocking blue, with thick brows arching over them.
Beside the centaur, a dwarf woman sat on a stone chair that—although it was too big—she made seem as if it were quite small, just from the arrogant way she carried herself. She had eyes the color of oak leaves in the fall, and wore brightly colored clothes; not knowing much about the ways of dwarves, I was a little surprised to see a large, finely wrought battle axe held lazily in her right hand over the armrest of her chair, as if it were her scepter. Her eyes sparkled mischievously as I entered the range of her view, as if I were to be the new victim of her pranks.