CeCe smiled and nodded. “Everything tastes better in the field. Don’t get me wrong, our cooks are remarkable, and a hot meal makes the day better. But nothing beats taking a break to feast on a cold meal after a brisk march.”
He wondered briefly about her. How had she come to fight with this group? What about her family? Before he could ask, though, she was up and adjusting her pack.
“Let’s go. We have only a short walk until we reach the hut.” She started forward, following the stream.
They moved around trees and bushes, never venturing far from the water until, in only a matter of minutes, a small structure came into view. CeCe paused. “And we have arrived.” She gestured toward their destination. “We’ll hold up here for another hour before heading on to the mine. It’s about ten minutes farther down the trail.”
Jarek craned his neck to see around the hut. The trail did continue along the stream, but, oddly, the land was flat and interspersed with trees. Not the kind of place he would have expected to find a mine. Somehow, he had thought it would be rockier terrain.
She took the small set of stairs to the rickety door and opened it. “Not much to look at, but it will do us for a while.”
He paused at the threshold and stared inside at the dark room.
CeCe reached into her pack and took out a couple of rocks. Feeling around inside the door, she picked up a large piece of wood. “I’ll get this torch going so we can have light in here.” She knelt down and began striking the two stones together, and within seconds a flame caught on the head of the torch, and light bathed the center of the interior of the hut.
A male voice shocked Jarek. “And what do we have here?”
Jarek whirled around to see a man step out of the shadows, sword in hand. The Azyrean glanced at CeCe and wondered if she would be able to defend them. She stared at the man.
Another figure stepped out from the other side, then another, and another. Four men surrounded and closed in on them.
Jarek moved closer to CeCe, not sure how she was going to deal with this.
The first man sheathed his sword. “Right on time. Nicely done.”
CeCe smiled. “I am offended that you ever doubted me, Nicos.” She turned to Jarek. “These are some friends of mine and they will escort you from here. There is, however, a slight change of plans. The king is anxious to meet you.”
Chapter 91: Jarek
Jarek stared in disbelief at his betrayer. How could he have fallen for this?
CeCe smirked. “Oh, come now, little man. I told you there was a spy in the group. I told you to be careful who you trusted. You should have listened to me.”
The comment evoked boisterous laughter from the men.
“Besides, it’s not nearly as bad as you think. King Wyndred is so looking forward to making your acquaintance. You’ll be able to pursue your studies with far greater resources. And you’ll enjoy comforts that you cannot begin to imagine. Our leader is very, very interested in your work.”
Jarek didn’t trust himself to speak. He glanced at the door. Maybe he could flee before they could catch him. After all, he had escaped the king’s men before. But this was different. These did not appear to be clumsy, heavily armored men like the others. These were more like the band of rebels he’d been staying with. His heart fell. How could he have been taken in by her wiles?
In that moment, Burns flashed across his mind. If he refused to work for the king, as CeCe had suggested, he was pretty sure that he would not fare well. On the other hand, if he did, it might mean the death of his friends. Maybe he would be better off, they would all be better off, if he fought and died here. He glanced at each of the men. It wouldn’t be much of a fight.
As if she read his mind, CeCe offered a caution, “Don’t even think about it, Jarek. These are not bumbling cavaliers. These are hardened rangers and they would have you within seconds.”
He decided to wait until they got outside. He would make a break then. The trail back was along the creek into that last stand of woods. He was short and could easily move in and through the bushes. They would have to go around them. Maybe it would gain him enough time. Or, maybe one of them would simply shoot an arrow into his back.
CeCe turned to the leader of the men. “Bind his hands behind him and shackle his legs. Let’s get going. I want to be back at the castle by dark.”
By the time the men had finished securing Jarek, daylight streamed through the open door. “Okay, my little friend, out you go.” The leader shoved him. They regrouped outside and began to secure their packs in place.
And then another unexpected voice broke the sound of the babbling stream. “Good to know we’re not late for the party.”
Jarek twisted his head to see Commander West step from behind a tree. Almost immediately, Captain Virgil and about ten other rebels stepped into the small clearing, surrounding CeCe’s party.
“Let’s see, what have we here?” West strode over closer to the men. “A word of caution, my friends. Place your weapons on the ground—very slowly—and then drop your packs.” She glanced at CeCe but said nothing. Turning to the leader of the men, she added, “Do me a favor, please, and unbind the Azyrean, if you will.”
Jarek felt his mind going into overload. First the betrayal by CeCe and now this. He felt his bindings drop free and then the shackles fell from his legs. He rubbed his arms while stepping away from the group.
One of the rebels, a hulking man with a two-handed sword, stepped forward. “You want them executed here?”
West’s gaze never left the king’s men. “I think not. Tie them to the trees, securely but not too tight.”
“But Commander….”
The commander turned to stare at her man. “Tie them up. You heard me. Killing them like that is not who we are.” She strode over to the leader of the group. “You should be able to work out of those bindings within an hour or so. We are going to take your weapons, of course. I do hope you understand. Go back to your king and tell him what happened. Tell him how you lost his prize. Tell him how you were taken unawares. Confess your failure to him.” She chuckled and added, “I’m sure he’ll understand.”
And then she turned to CeCe, standing tall in order to stare at her face-to-face. “And you, did you really think I didn’t know, Marie Cecile Dubois? Did you really think I’d recruit a complete stranger and put them in charge of my intelligence network?” She laughed and turned away.
CeCe lashed out defiantly. “Yes. That is who I am. And my father was Duke Bertrand Dubois, murdered by your father and his band of killers. Go ahead, kill me like your coward father killed mine.”
When the commander turned to face the traitor again, she did so with a sad smile. “Yes, your father was killed… in a pitched battle between his army of thugs and a band of peasants who survived on the edge of starvation. Other men also died that day. And my father was killed some weeks later in a similar battle. We have all lost family and friends. The difference, though, is that the misery that drove all of this killing had at its source, your father and King Wyndred.”
CeCe glared but remained silent.
“As for killing you, I think not. As is the case with your henchmen here, that is not who we are. To murder you would simply make us like you. And we are better than that. No, I think I shall offer you a choice, which is more than you intended to do for our dear friend, Jarek. You can go free and return to your king.”
The traitor’s eyes widened.
“Yes, go to him. I’m certain he will forgive your failures. You failed to deliver Jarek. You failed repeatedly to deliver our skirmish teams to his traps. But mostly you failed in that, for the last year, you have been the conduit by which I fed him information that I wanted him to have. You have failed in every single thing you have endeavored. You and I both know, CeCe, that Wyndred does not suffer failure lightly.” West shrugged and smiled. “But, who knows? Perhaps it will be different with you, especially after your friends here explain the details of this particular debacle.”
>
The commander turned to watch as the last of the king’s rangers was secured. “Now, CeCe, comes your choice. I can bind you here with these men, and you can take your chances with the king. Or, you can return with us.”
A gasp emerged from her group. The words stunned Jarek. But as he looked over at the other rebels, he saw a slight smile on Captain Virgil’s face. Of everyone there, he seemed the most at ease and unsurprised.
The commander continued, “Yes, you can come back with us. Unfortunately, I cannot have you in your former role. But I have work for you, if you desire. You will cook and clean—prepare meals and serve the group. It is not what you are used to, but it is honest work and honorable work. Most important, though, it will provide time—time for you to seek redemption.”
Chapter 92: Jarek
Jarek struggled to find the right words. “I guess I messed this up pretty bad, huh?” He had dreaded facing Burns. Not only had he been deceived, he had betrayed her yet again. He wondered how many times she would forgive him.
Leaning back against a tree in the early afternoon sun, she stared out into the swamp. “Yeah. Pretty bad.” She shrugged. “But, could have been worse. And, remember, CeCe had us all fooled. Well, all except the commander and Virgil, I guess.”
He tried to assemble all the pieces of this affair but couldn’t quite get his mind around them. “I wonder when she knew.”
“I’m betting that it was from the very beginning. The commander doesn’t take much on faith. I was lucky, my family knew her family before. Still, she went a long time before she would trust me completely.”
The two fell silent. Since he’d returned the day before, they hadn’t even discussed the beams, portals, or crystals. In fact, Jarek wasn’t sure he ever wanted to hear any of those words again. These stupid moonbeams had caused so much misery. He wanted them just to go away. No such luck.
“I thought I might find you two out here.” Commander West strode across the clearing to where the two sat. “You figure out the beams and portals yet?”
Jarek shook his head and looked down. “At the rate we’re going, we might as well say that some god provides the beams, or we just chalk it all up to magic.” He smirked, recalling the conversation he and Burns had had days before.
West rubbed her chin. “Maybe.”
Jarek’s eyes widened. “For the love of Pangrove, I was kidding.” Surely the commander wouldn’t buy into the god theory.
West sat down beside them. “Look, you rode into our world from some unknown far away place on a moonbeam. Maybe there’s a good explanation for that. But I wouldn’t discount the idea that there is something involved beyond what we can see or hear.”
“I know. But….” He fell silent, at a loss for a cogent argument.
West seemed not to have heard him. “As you know, all civilizations have their myths and legends. Some are conjured in order to fill in the blanks in our knowledge. But sometimes there is a basis. Stories are handed down, often by people who are at a loss to explain what they have experienced. And so the descriptions may seem strange or even impossible. But it would be a foolish man indeed who ignored them all out of hand.”
Jarek glanced at Burns, who sat rapt, listening to the commander’s explanation. He looked back to the commander, who sat tracing lines in the dirt with her finger. “Stories are told of a deity, a god who enjoyed a relationship with the human race. But that was before the great war and the sundering. Since then, all we have are the legends. But, if you explore our history, there are many unanswered questions. How did the great war end? There is no indication that any of the races prevailed as a winner. How did the sundering occur? Where once we had a world in which free travel between the regions was possible, now we cannot move beyond our own borders. How does this sort of thing come about?”
Jarek found himself at a loss. He knew nothing of human history, much less the lore and myth related to any god. All he knew was that he dropped in on a moonbeam. And, now that he thought about it, that was very strange. “Maybe there are things that we can explore, things we’ve not considered before.”
West stood and stared into the swamp. “I feel that you have come to a critical point, Master Whit. To find the answers you seek, the answers we are going to need, you will have to look in other places. The king will not take this setback lightly. We will feel increased pressure. It seems that he has already found a way to send small numbers of people to other lands. Our knowledge must catch up to his. Else I fear there is little hope for this world.” She turned and walked back into the cavern.
Chapter 93: Marzi
Marzi sat by Rys in the torchlight of the cave. “You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be fine.” She kept repeating herself, despite the fact that her friend was unconscious.
The elven healers came and went, replacing the wounded young elf’s poultices and changing her bandages. With no view of the outside, Marzi couldn’t discern the time of day. They had arrived at the bluffs just as the sun sank into the Silver Sea. That was hours ago. Since then, activity had been split between caring for Rys and recounting the events of the trip for those who stayed behind.
Marzi watched Saryn and Saige move off to themselves, keeping their voices low. The group leader pulled out the etchings from the ruins, and gestured to sections of them as he spoke. Saige, for her part, simply nodded and studied the parchment.
After a few moments of watching the two pore over the results of the search, Marzi turned her attention back to her friend. Ryshara had not improved since the arrival at the caves, but neither had she gotten worse. “You’re going to be fine, Rys.”
“Of course, she will be fine.” Rintaur joined her. He placed his hand on the injured elf’s head. “But telling Lothran will be difficult.”
Marzi shrugged and offered a smile. “But at least you can tell him that she survived and that she’s going to be okay, right?”
“Yes, there is that.” He glanced up and locked gazes with Marzi. “You saved her life. There are no words of thanks sufficient for that.”
“Actually, I didn’t. Ran saved us both. If he hadn’t come along, that thing would have killed me and then Ryshara.”
“Marzi Gloam of Pangrove, you are wrong. Yes, Ran was a part of it. But without you, without your courage and quick action, she would have perished today. Ran might have avenged her but by then it would have been too late. Whatever else happens, you are a hero to us. You are a hero to me.”
Saige announced that there would be a light dinner for the exhausted travelers and a brief conference while they ate. Marzi tore herself away from Rys to eat and prepare for the meeting.
Saige organized the parchments she had been studying before asking, “Lord Rintaur, would you care to peruse the etchings that were brought back from the ruins? I believe that Saryn and I have had sufficient time to study and interpret them.”
“No thank you, my lady, I have complete trust in your interpretive abilities.” Rintaur took a seat nearby with a drink and small plateful of food.
“Very well. First of all, I imagine many of you have noticed the absence of our captured human. I regret to inform you that last night we had an incident where our prisoner escaped his bonds and grabbed a knife from someone’s plate, attempting to kill them. He had become combative and we had no choice but to take his life.” She stopped and looked around. Some of the faces were aghast. Others appeared so weary from their own recent assault that the news barely seemed to register with them. She continued, “We gave him what I believe was a proper human burial this morning.”
Rintaur asked, “Did the human give up anything before he passed? Any information at all?”
“Nothing of consequence, I assure you, Lord Rintaur. He babbled about ‘green demons’ and seemed to chant something about a ‘dread wind.’ He kept repeating ‘beware the dread wind’ and ‘dread the wind.’ The only thing he left behind that might be of possible interest is this.” Saige handed him an emerald green crystal nearly the size
of her hand.
“Very interesting.” Rintaur held the crystal up and studied it. He turned it to see the facets and the colors dance in the firelight. After a few minutes he returned the crystal to Saige with a wondering look. “Very interesting indeed. Do we know of its use?”
“No. At least, not yet.” Saige paused for a minute as though to let her last comment sink in. “As to the runic symbols found inside the ruins, most of them were very faint and difficult to read. There was one of particular interest but I will get to that last. The symbols spoke of a reliquary of time and moving air. It mentions a fading to protect something from itself, although the details are obscured. There are also references to dark clouds, a great darkness ahead, and strangers in the land.” Here she glanced briefly at Marzi. Saige returned her attention to the etchings and continued.
“There were a few indecipherable mentions but, as you can see, it appears that most of the writings were concerned with the sundering and a coming danger. We will keep these parchments and continue to study them. Finally, we have this symbol. I have seen it before, and know it to be the personal symbol of the lady herself, Valyn.”
Saige held the parchment out for all to see.
“These runes are symbols for Valyn, Kronos, and Menalor.”
Arien, who had been at Ryshara’s side nursing her all this time, asked of Saige, “Pardon me, but how do you know it is Valyn’s personal symbol?”
“Ah, well… I have seen it before… many times. It was shown to me by my Grandmere who had it on her incense box. Those very runes had been mysteriously burned or somehow emblazoned onto the box the very day of the sundering over two hundred years ago.”
◆◆◆
The next morning, the two fallen elves were laid to rest. According to their custom, they were wrapped in linen cloth and placed on platforms high in the forest canopy, close to the spirits. Following the ceremony, Saige called a meeting in the main cave.
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