by Toni Cox
She kept following the signs that read War Council and after a few left and right turns eventually came upon another set of doors. These were plain; the black material used as door frames and then covered with canvas. Maia noticed that the canvas used was of elven make and she thought back on the tents she saw outside. Had they also been of elven canvas? If so, then the Vampyres must have been collecting it and preparing for this war for many years and not just Moons.
Suddenly the hairs along the back of her neck stood on edge and she quickly pressed herself against the far wall as the doors to the room sprang open. Two big Generals stepped out, discussing something in loud voices. She briefly considered following them to gather what information she could, but then changed her mind. Quickly, before the doors closed again, she slipped inside and was immediately confronted with another four Generals staring at her with wicked grins on their faces.
“When?” His father spoke with quiet calm and everyone in the room cringed.
Jaik had never seen his father this angry. Never in all his years had Maia ever done anything so reckless and so dangerous and there was nothing he could do to help her.
“She left during the night. Midnight took her to Menandril Fields and she continued on foot from there. From what he has been willing to tell me, she went through the Gate shortly before the moons were at their highest.”
His father was silent then for a long while. Riker and Rothea stood with their heads bowed next to Jagaer’s desk, knowing they had failed him. Silas sat in one of the chairs, but his face was as pale as his robe. Malyn, nervously playing with the rope on her dress, paced behind his father. He did not know what to do; he had never seen his parents this distressed, or his father this helpless. So he stood, his arms held behind his back, and waited.
Malyn eventually broke the silence. “She will be all right.”
Everyone looked towards her. She had stopped pacing and stood perfectly still and confident at Jagaer’s desk, one hand resting reassuringly on his father’s arm.
“I know she never does anything without a good reason and I am confident in her abilities. She will be fine. Maia is strong in her magic. Isn’t that right, Silas?”
The old man cleared his throat. Jaik knew Maia had some trouble with the magic of Air and, as far as he knew, she had never fully mastered invisibility. She had other resources though and he hoped, whatever she employed, it would be enough to avoid detection. He watched as Silas battled for a moment with his answer, but then he looked straight into Jagaer’s eyes when he spoke.
“Yes, Maia is sufficiently proficient in her magic. She should have no difficulties while on Naylera.”
Lying was something Elves did not normally do; it was a social taboo; Jaik realised, in this case, it had been the wisest option. He watched as Malyn gave Silas a short nod. The old man visibly shrunk as Jagaer took his eyes off him.
“Very well,” his father said, “ready your horses and ride for the Gate within the hour. Unfortunately, I am needed here, but I want to be informed the moment she returns. And I want her brought to me at once.”
“Yes, Father,” Jaik replied.
“You may leave us now.”
Without looking up, Riker and Rothea exited the room. Jaik and Silas followed. Malyn stayed behind with Jagaer.
“I am sorry, Jaik,” Riker said as they left the building. “I never expected her to climb out of the window.”
“No, Riker, it is not your fault.” Jaik held up his hand to forestall Rothea’s comment. “Nor is it yours. I know my sister. No one can stop her when she has decided to do something.”
“I wish there was something we could do to help her,” Riker said with a sigh.
“There is not much we can do for her now,” Silas cut in. “She knows what she is doing, even if it is foolish. She has been studying and practicing every chance she had and I now realise that some of it was in preparation for such an event. Somas’ death was simply the push she needed.”
“Can you tell us honestly about her abilities with Air? Does she have the skills necessary for what she is doing?”
Silas was still for a moment and they all stopped walking to look at the old man.
“Air is tricky and, besides Somas, I know of few people who ever mastered it. Maia’s magic is strong, but she is lacking the experience and the training. So far, she has been able to disappear completely from view, but there are other factors to consider, such as smell, sight, sound and hiding one’s Eläm. Any of those could give her away, even if she stays completely invisible. Even environmental factors, such as wind, rain, dust, or snow could put her in danger. If you are asking me if she will be safe, then my answer would be no. What she is doing is definitely not safe, nor is Air magic one of her strong points. But Maia is resourceful and we can only hope that she returns to us safely.”
Blaid blinked as his vision returned to him. The morning was bright and the sunshine was warm on his naked body. He felt groggy and his muscles were stiff and slow to respond as he sat up. A dull ache pounded behind his temples.
Bewildered, he looked around. The last thing he remembered was fighting the Vampyres in their mountain stronghold. He remembered having killed almost half of them, including the Elves, when they finally overran him. As he beheld the scene around him, a completely different outcome came to light. Hazily, as if catching glimpses of a dream he could barely remember, he put together what had happened here last night.
All around him dismembered bodies were strewn across the camp site. The smell of blood was thick in the air and even his body was covered in it. Vaguely he now remembered being held by some Vampyres while others laid into him with spears and swords. Being close to death had triggered his self-defence response and it had made him change involuntarily. Then Death had taken over in what he called his black rage. The destruction around him spoke of a violence rarely seen. He now shuddered at the thought and was thankful he did not remember all of it. He was Death.
Carefully he rose and tenderly walked over to the nearest camp fire. He was so tired. The fire was out, but the pot of water hanging over it was still intact. He took it off the hook and then upended the pot over his head. He washed as much blood off his body as he could, so that he might examine his own injuries. Every movement hurt, but he was finally able to assess the damage. He had numerous puncture wounds, but they were not as bad or deep as he would have thought. He had numerous slashes across both thighs, a deep gash across his back, scrapes and bruises everywhere and a nasty welt on his head.
Feeling slightly dizzy, he sat down on the log next to the fireplace. He must have lost a lot of blood if he was feeling like this. He was amazed he was still alive, given the extent of his injuries. The Prime within him must have taken over to preserve his life, but it was up to him now to maintain it.
First, he looked around for something to eat and was thankful to find travel bread and other items within the tents the Elves had occupied. He lit one of the fires and put some water to the boil. Then, whilst eating bread, he rummaged through the Elves’ possessions to see what he could find. There was not much, but he found chamomile tea, which he could use to clean his wounds. He also found garlic and honey, which he could combine to make a cream to apply to his wounds to prevent infection. Amongst the other edible items, he also discovered some marigold and if he drank a tincture of this it would help the body deal with fever and reduce inflammation.
He cursed his old master for making him study healing; it had never been his favourite subject. It was much easier to simply use one’s energy to heal something, but, in his current state, he simply did not have the energy required to heal his own wounds. Once the water was boiled, he steeped the chamomile and then let it cool so that he might wash himself with it. In a separate pot, he prepared the tincture of marigold. Digging through the various possessions strewn about he managed to find a small eating bowl and, after giving it a good clean, he set to crushing the garlic and then mixing it with the honey. He needed to get the q
uantities right; the honey would be soothing to his wounds, but too much garlic might make them burn.
Once everything was ready he decided that this might not be the safest place for him to rest and heal; another guard or someone else meant to join this group might be on their way even now and he did not want to be discovered in his weakened state. He rose again from his log and folded up one of the smaller tents and packed a bag with some utensils. He poured the marigold tincture into a flask and added it to the bag.
Then he set to washing his body with the chamomile. The soothing liquid felt good on his open wounds and he took special care to wash any dirt out of them. The one on his back proved somewhat more difficult and he winced as he had to twist to reach it. Finally done and, having found clothes that might fit him, donned the garments so he would not freeze during the cold mountain night.
Dragging his loads behind him, he left the camp and climbed higher into the mountains; due north, away from the path they had taken to come here and away from the direction of Stoneloft. It took him over two hours to find a little cave where he felt safe enough and, utterly exhausted, he dropped the tent and his bag and sat against them. He should make a fire to ward off the cold, but he had no energy to gather wood. He felt his eyelids droop and he was soon asleep.
Shivering finally woke him. Day had turned to late afternoon and, while there was still light coming from the opening of the cave, the sun had set behind the mountains. His shivers were not just from the cold; he felt the fever within his veins and needed to act now.
He struggled to sit up; every part of his body stiff and every movement hurt. Gritting his teeth, he took the few steps to the opening of the cave and surveyed his surroundings. He was lucky that it was a much-forested mountain range and the dead lower branches of the pine trees would make good fire wood. With what strength he had left, he gathered as much wood as he could. Once he had the fire going, he spread out the tent to act as a sleeping roll and then set down the bag with the spare clothes as a pillow. Then he stripped naked. He drank some of the marigold and set to smearing his wounds with the honey and garlic. Stiff and sore as he was, it took a lot longer than he would have liked and he was sweating and weak by the time he was done.
He added more wood to the fire and, using his clothes as a blanket, lay down to rest. He was instantly asleep.
“Bah, he is stupid,” the Vampyre said, staring straight at Maia.
She stood there, holding her breath. But, as another replied and they all turned away from her, she realised they were talking about the two Generals that had just exited. Silently she let out the breath she had been holding and then carefully circled the room. The Vampyres had an argument, for the four still in the room kept discussing the subject. She thought these must be higher-born Generals for she was able to understand them better than the others she had overheard outside; their speech was more refined, slower, and more pronounced.
She was startled to find that the argument was about her and her dragon. Carefully she listened to what they had to say.
“She is too dangerous,” the one with the red stripes on his shoulder said.
“Yes, she has … and more,” the tallest one of them replied.
Maia was frustrated that she was not able to understand every word, but she paid close attention; any information might yet save their lives.
“It can be overcome,” Red stripe said.
“Are you thinking of …?” the tall one asked.
“Yes,” the Vampyre with a helmet on his head said, grinning, “they are ready.”
All four of them laughed at this and Maia wondered what kind of weapon they might be talking about.
“He will not like it.” Red stripe laughed. “His fire will be useless.”
This weapon was to be used against Midnight and she hoped they would discuss the subject more so that she might prepare him for it, but the Generals then turned their attention to a table against the far wall and started discussing the movement of their forces. Again, Maia was not able to understand every word, but it was clear they were waiting for various regiments to arrive from different regions. She struggled to make sense of their numbers, unable to distinguish between one thousand and ten thousand but, after a while, Maia began to get a sense of their plan and how they intended to execute it. She listened to them for a long time and only when someone arrived to bring the Generals their food, did they stop discussing the coming war. Trapped within the room, she had to watch them consume what she thought might be cow meat. Although they looked to be prime cuts and were presented on plates, they were served raw and the blood dripping from the Vampyres mouths made her stomach turn.
When one of them finally excused himself and exited the room, she immediately took the chance and followed him out of the door.
Firestorm pranced nervously beneath him as they came closer to Greystone. Although she had come a long way in her training, she was a young horse and easily agitated, but she was brave and fierce nonetheless and they had become close; he would not want to choose a different horse to go into battle with.
He wondered where her agitation came from, but soon the others’ horses were prancing and snorting too and then they were able to hear it. A deafening roar split the air, followed by men shouting and horses whinnying. Looking towards Riker, who nodded, he nudged Firestorm into a gallop and they hastened up the last hill towards Greystone.
As they crested the hill, complete mayhem greeted them, and his hairs stood erect with a sense of premonition such as he had never felt before. Surely something must have happened to Maia for Midnight to be this angry.
For about a hundred strides in either direction around the circle, Midnight had flattened everything that had stood in his way. He had trampled tents, fires, weapons, and Jaik only hoped that none of the warriors had gotten in his way. Midnight was raging about around the circle, roaring, breathing fire and dangerously lashing out with his tail. Besides during the last war, Jaik had never seen Midnight look this dangerous.
“Easy now,” he said to Firestorm as he reined her in and signalled the others to a halt.
“What is going on here?” Riker asked breathlessly, trying hard to control his frightened mount.
“I don’t know, but it cannot be good,” Jaik replied between gritted teeth. “Let us see what we can find out. Rothea, would you mind seeing to the horses? Maybe you can find one of the Horse Masters to take them.”
“Yes, My Lord.”
Quickly Jaik and Riker dismounted and ran through the warren of tents encamped around the stones. They soon came upon one of the command tents, but it was empty. They carried on, getting closer to the circle of destruction, and were eventually met by Commander Willowbay of the Legion that had already taken up position around Greystone.
“Lord Longshadow, I am so pleased to see you,” the man said with obvious relief.
“How long has he been like this?” Jaik asked.
“Not long, just a few minutes.”
“He did all of this in such a short time?” Jaik asked aghast.
“Yes, My Lord. Scared the horses witless. Some of them have run off. It is a wonder no one was injured.”
“Aye,” Jaik replied. “Let me see if I can talk to him.”
Slowly he stepped forward, reaching out to Midnight with his mind, but it was like punching through a brick wall with your bare fist; nothing could get through to him in this state. Jaik signalled Riker to stay back; he did not want to put anyone else in danger.
“Midnight,” He yelled as loudly as he could.
The dragon raged on, bellowing his frustration on the other side of the stones.
“Midnight!” Jaik called again.
With a roar that almost deafened him, Midnight finally acknowledged his presence. With one quick leap the dragon jumped the stones and landed on the ground about fifty strides away from Jaik. Immediately that feeling of premonition returned to Jaik and he only had a fraction of a moment to protect himself before he was engulfed
in a torrent of dragon fire.
At the last moment Jaik shielded his eyes with his arms and then for a long moment the only thing he heard was the firestorm raging about him. He felt his energy drain as he fought against the fire and, in his mind, he screamed at Midnight to stop. It felt like hours before the fire finally abated and then, utterly exhausted, he sank to the ground.
He-Of-Unshakable-Courage deserving of name!
Jaik heard respect in Midnight’s thoughts, but also shame; Midnight had not meant to harm him and was relieved that Jaik had been able to protect himself. Jaik himself was surprised, as his magic was limited to Earth and Water. Never before had he been able to control Fire.
Shakily he rose to his feet and immediately Riker was by his side.
“Are you all right, My Lord?”
“Yes, Riker, Midnight did not intend to hurt me.”
Jaik and Riker looked up at the dragon as he carefully settled on the ground, his spikes along the ridge of his back flattening slightly. A curl of smoke still rose from his nostril, but it was clear the dragon had finally calmed down.
“You have made quite a mess, Midnight.” Jaik spoke aloud, knowing the dragon would understand his thoughts, but wanting the people around him to know that he was trying to find out what was going on. “Why are you so upset?”
There was a moment’s pause as Midnight explained to Jaik.
“I see,” he replied, “so she should have been back already?”
Again, Jaik waited for the dragon to relay his thoughts.
“Thank you, Midnight. I am sure she will return to us shortly.”
The dragon rumbled dangerously and those that had dared come a closer retreated to safety.
Turning to Riker, Jaik said: “Maia told Midnight she should not be longer than a day. He is unsure if she meant a day on Elveron or a day on Naylera, but he is worried about her. He has no connection with her while she is there and it is driving him mad to know that she might be in danger. He was even considering going through the Gate himself to search for her.”