Valanis continued, “They will need a show of strength to take your command, however the Karathan army will no longer be joining their numbers as planned. With that in mind; cull as few as possible when making your point.”
“As you command, Master.” Thallan bowed his head, eyeing Alidyr with a smug expression. “I will lead them to Tregaran immediately.”
“No.” Valanis’ tone was even, but his words carried weight. “With Karath laid to waste, The Arid Lands is as good as conquered. I want the next kingdom. I want Velia…”
“I will see it done.”
“What of Samandriel and King Merkaris’ army to the north?” Alidyr asked.
Valanis whipped around and made for the city, leaving the Darkakin to find their way over the fallen gate. “They will move down from Orith and trap Velia.”
Alidyr, the strategist, was always thinking ahead. “What about Queen Isabella and her army? With Felgarn to the west of Velia, they could come to King Rengar’s aid and cut off the northern army.”
Valanis’ smile could be heard through his words. “The alliance between the six kingdoms has never been weaker. The realm of Felgarn will cower when word reaches them of the Darkakin. Let them hide in The Evermoore. When Velia is naught but rubble, Lirian will fall next.”
Alidyr knew better than to question his master. “And what of me? What would the gods have me do?”
Valanis stopped and turned on him. Alidyr could see the faint glow from within his mask and the flare of his purple eyes. How his master was commanding so much magic and not falling to it was beyond his understanding. The subtlest of twitches in his left hand betrayed Valanis, however. The exertion was taking its toll.
“As I have always tasked you,” Valanis replied, “find Paldora’s gem. I will need it if I am to see this through to the end.”
Valanis continued walking when Alidyr stopped to take in the devastation of Syla’s Gate.
“The ranger was on the gate…”
“Was he..?” Valanis’ distorted voice echoed from within his mask.
Alidyr feared his master hadn’t grasped the gravity of his statement. “Only Asher knew of the gem’s location.”
Thallan sneered. “And you failed to retrieve that knowledge.”
Alidyr shot his brother a look that would reduce even the best of the Arakesh to a withering mess. When he had the time, he would remind Thallan of his place.
“My path to the gem has not been closed.” Valanis tilted his head again in the same unusual manner. “The gods would know if Paldora’s gem was lost to the world.”
Before Alidyr could ask any more questions, an Arakesh ran out from Karath to greet them. The woman was blindfolded and her short-swords caked in dried blood. Beyond her, through the southern gates, the city was in disarray, with people running wildly though the streets.
“Masters.” The woman genuflected in front of them. “The ranger and the princess have been spotted on horseback, leaving through the eastern gate.”
Alidyr couldn’t fathom how the ranger and the princess kept surviving. “East…” He looked to his right. “There is only one place east of here.”
Indeed, a day’s ride would have them at Nightfall’s entrance, an entrance the ranger would know how to find. Why would they ride east if not for Nightfall; the land was barren. But why Nightfall at all? Unless...
“Master.” Alidyr’s tone was confident. “When next we meet, I will have the rest of Paldora’s gem. Your power will know no bounds.”
Valanis reached out and cupped Alidyr’s face as a loving father, his voice light. “See that you do, Alidyr, or I will have you dragged to the depths of The Adean.” The dark elf took a step closer to his disciple and whispered. “I will not suffer failure.”
Alidyr stepped back and bowed. It was all he could do in the face of such power. Valanis’ aura was intoxicating but terrifying in its magnitude. Being dragged to the bottom of The Adean was merciful by his master’s abilities.
“We need horses!” he barked at the assassin. Without any crystals it was his only option, and he dare not ask Valanis for assistance.
“What will you do, Master?” Alidyr wanted Valanis to return to Kaliban and recover his strength.
“As I promised I would.” Valanis looked at the city of Karath. “I’m going to wipe Verda clean…” The dark elf raised his hands and unleashed a fury of magic far beyond anything Alidyr or Nakir could muster. The walls of Karath cracked and mirrored the Undying Mountains.
Now the war could really begin.
Nathaniel could feel the dying sun on the back of his neck and adjusted the cloth wrapped around his head. The desert was painted in orange hues and the temperature continued to drop every minute. Reyna had fallen asleep, slumping back into the knight’s chest as they rode ever eastward, her own face shrouded behind white cloth. He was thankful to the gods that the elf had been returned to him safely. It had been the longest night of his life, filled with plenty of opportunities to lose it to the blade of another, but not knowing the fate of Reyna throughout had plagued his mind.
The Graycoat was careful not to move, not wanting to disturb the princess, but also to avoid upsetting his numerous wounds. His skills mastered in West Fellion had certainly kept him alive, but he wasn’t invincible. He would have scars to remind him of this battle for the rest of his life.
Whether it was the battle itself or just the thought of its effects on his life, the knight found himself considering his feelings towards Reyna. Their growing love for each other was undeniable, but their circumstances prevented them from any commitment. He knew that in his exhaustion it would be unwise to dwell on these feelings, but meeting Reyna had changed his life in a way that nothing else ever could. Her bravery and courage to stand up to all was a quality Nathaniel hadn’t realised was missing from the world.
The knight sighed, his mind filled to the brim with flashes of death and the feeling of loss for all those who had been claimed in this war. Nathaniel knew that he shouldn’t even be thinking about love when there was so much more fighting to come. His exhausted mind was fickle however, and he found himself flipping the argument in his mind. Life was too short to worry about was to come and what wasn’t; he knew he loved Reyna and that was all he needed to know. When this was all over, and Nightfall was behind them, he would tell her of his love. He would rather die an old man in her arms than die an old man, bitter and filled with regret.
No, he thought, he would tell her now! There would be time to sleep, but right now he had to tell her how he felt.
That was when Asher fell from his horse.
Faylen was the first to reach his side, but the commotion had Reyna awake and leaping from their horse in the blink-of-an-eye. Nathaniel’s injured leg slowed him down and the drop from the horse wasn’t exactly pleasant.
“What’s wrong with him?” the knight asked, annoyed that he hadn’t seen the ranger deteriorate.
“I’m fine…” Asher groaned.
Faylen checked him over and inspected her hand, soaked with blood. Pulling back his cloak, the ranger had a gash in his leather armour and a piece of ragged cloth hanging out of it. The makeshift bandage had lasted during the battle, but it could no longer stop the flow of blood. Reyna stroked the side of the horse and found fresh blood dripping down the mare’s chestnut coat.
“He’s been bleeding for some time,” the princess commented.
“Can’t you heal him?” Nathaniel had seen the elves work miracles with their command of magic, saving his own life among them.
Faylen and Reyna held a silent conversation with their eyes. Nathaniel couldn’t decipher their words, but the meaning behind them was clear to see.
“I can heal his wounds, but not all of them. He will still need rest to recover,” Faylen said.
“If we stay,” Reyna said, “they will catch up with us…”
“Who will catch up with us?” Nathaniel asked.
“The… Arakesh,” Asher pulled the cloth from hi
s head. The ranger shrugged off the fuss Faylen made of him and pulled himself up using the horse’s saddle.
“You shouldn’t move,” Faylen said sternly.
Nathaniel still wasn’t following. “Why would the Arakesh catch up with us?”
“They watched us leave the city,” Reyna replied.
Nathaniel cursed his dull, human eyes. “You think they would know where we’re going? They don’t even know we’re searching for the gem.”
Asher was rummaging through pouches on his belt. “Alidyr will put it together. There’s nothing else out here.”
“Let me heal you,” Faylen insisted.
Asher warded her off. “I know where we’re going. Trust me; you’re going to need all the magic you can muster. We’re not stopping until we reach Nightfall. If we don’t stop we should find the stairs by dawn.” It was clear to see how much pain the ranger was in.
“Stairs?” Nathaniel asked.
“You’ll never make it if you don’t let me heal you,” Faylen continued.
Asher’s tone was unwavering. “We’ve all been awake for two days. By the time we enter the pit, it’ll be three days. You need to save whatever strength you have left to find the gem.” The ranger climbed back onto the horse with considerable effort and took a swig from the water-skin.
“What is that?” Reyna gestured to the clay-like substance Asher had removed from his belt.
“Dwarven dirt. Something Doran recommended years ago.” Asher rubbed the clay into the gash on his lower back, covering the entire wound. “Don’t ask me what’s in it; I just know it’s good for wounds.” The ranger winced from beginning to end, until the blood stopped trickling out.
“Are we really doing this?” Nathaniel asked. “Are we going into Nightfall as we are?”
“What choice do we have?” Asher replied. “If we stay out here and rest, the Arakesh will find us and we’ll never recover the gem.”
“Nathaniel is right,” Reyna added. “What hope do we have if we can’t even keep our eyes open?”
Asher sighed and looked down at them from his horse. “You’re both young, so I understand that hope still plays a part in your thinking, but trust me, hoping doesn’t get it done. Sometimes you have to grit your teeth and keep fighting…”
Nathaniel could see that fatigue was already taking over their emotions, making them irritable. It was subtle, but the ranger had grown distant and more distressed since the decision to find the gem.
“Going into Nightfall now could be the end of us,” Reyna replied with her unyielding tone.
Exasperated, Asher took a deep breath. “Rest here and fight Alidyr and the Arakesh. Go back to Karath and fight Valanis and the Darkakin. Go to Nightfall and enter the pit. All of our options would seemingly spell our doom, Princess. Don’t get me wrong, if we’re choosing how we die, I say we stay and rest, take our chances with the Arakesh and that worthless shit they call a master. But… if defeating an elf who can pull stars out of the sky is still our course, we cannot stop.”
“He’s right,” Faylen looked back at the horizon, but Karath was no longer in sight. “Too many have died already, and the war has yet to really begin. Forward is our only option now.”
Nathaniel could see Reyna’s next argument on the edge of her lips. “We can take it in turns to sleep on the ride,” he added before she could speak. “Get whatever rest we can before we find these stairs.”
Nathaniel hopped back onto his horse and watched Asher with a careful eye. The Graycoat usually admired the ranger’s strength in moments like these, hoping in some way that he might be as strong as him in twenty years, but right now he looked at Asher and saw careless choices that would get them killed. Still, there was no arguing that their errand was perhaps the most important in the land. Valanis had the power to bring down the sky now, and if Paldora’s gem was the only thing that could undo the dark elf, then Nathaniel Galfrey was going to see it found.
37
The Pit
Before the light of dawn could wipe away the last of the stars, Asher held up his hand, placing his fingers and thumb between a particular constellation. They were in the right place, maybe a half mile south of the entrance. Riding through the pain and exhaustion had led the ranger to his past, where he had been rigorously trained to embrace such a state of mind and body. Passing out from the pain had only ever resulted in a harsher punishment, while sleep was a luxury he had to earn.
He had been younger back then, however.
Now he could feel a lifetime of fighting and sleeping rough gnawing at his bones and settling into his muscles like a parasite. He knew that choosing to push on wasn’t the wise thing to do, but wisdom was of little use when death surrounded them on all sides. Still, the ranger wasn’t sure how much more punishment his body could take. The dwarven clay had healing properties, but its effects on humans were limited.
Nathaniel was half asleep, with his head resting over Reyna’s shoulder. The princess was awake, but both elves appeared to have entered some kind of trance overnight, keeping them awake but not present. Before the moon had reached its apex, Asher had seen Reyna healing Nathaniel’s leg while he slept. The ranger had wanted to dissuade her, sure that she would need all of her magical strength if they were to survive the pit, but he and the princess had bartered too many harsh words of late, and he knew her stubbornness could not be deterred.
The princess’ stubbornness was a quality Asher had come to adore in the elf. Reyna was ready to stand against any and all that would threaten their world. It was a courage he couldn’t pin on the recklessness of her age or naivety; the princess was simply a better person than him. Reyna was Verda needed right now; good people who would do the hard thing and say no to those who ravage this world. If he was lucky, Asher thought, some of that goodness might rub off on him.
Asher reached for their reins and steered the horse with his own, taking them north along the edge of the gorge. The crack in the earth was deep and ran from north to south as far as the eye could see. There was no way of crossing it without making the long trek through the desert, or climbing down and back up the other side. Asher had glimpsed some of the monsters that called the gorge their home, and knew that way to be folly. The entire area was honeycombed with various entrances, creating a maze of burrows. Somewhere inside all of that, was the pit.
A pale blue sky was creeping over the land when Asher cleared his throat and woke the others. His back stung, but the ranger clenched his jaw and tightened his grip on the hilt of his broadsword. Nathaniel and Reyna got off their horse and joined them by the edge of the gorge. The Graycoat tested the strength in his leg, unaware of the magic that had fixed it during the night. Asher kept his mouth shut and peered over the edge, into the nothingness below. A familiar white owl flew over their heads and circles the gorge.
“That bird is relentless…” Asher said dryly.
“He is loyal. And very smart.” Reyna held out her arm so that Ölli could swoop down and land on her leather bracer. The princess stroked his fur and gave the owl a loving kiss on the head.
“Well he can’t come where we’re going.” Asher removed the water-skins from the saddles before smacking the horses on the rear. “Everyone take a drink.”
“What are you doing?” Faylen asked as the horses trotted into the desert.
“There’s nowhere to tie them up and we won’t be coming back out up here.” Asher drank from the skin and passed them round.
“Where will we come out?” Nathaniel asked.
Asher looked across the horizon. “It’s always somewhere different.”
Reyna gave him a hard look before her fair features softened. “We have followed you this far. If you have the strength to keep going, then so do I.”
Her melodic tone was disarming as ever. “You calling me old, Princess?” Asher asked with a hint of a smile. The two had reached a truce, which was the most he could ask for with such frayed emotions.
“Shall we?” Faylen said, checking
her blade before sliding the scimitar back into its scabbard.
Asher knew there was no avoiding it; he had come this far. He walked up to the edge and looked down, searching for the top of the stairs. “Follow me.” The ranger crouched down and made the short drop onto the outcropping. He used to be able to jump down and run along the stairs without a care.
The stairs were perhaps a natural formation once upon a time, but over the centuries they had been worn down into easy stepping stones that had formed out of the rock face. Here and there were gaps that needed leaping over, but for the most part it was simply a steep decline into the gorge.
“I thought it would be grander…” Nathaniel called from the back of the line.
“Grand things tend to stand out,” Asher replied, doing his very best to suppress the memories invoked by the stairs. How many times had he journeyed back to Nightfall after a new kill? The ranger knew the number in his head, he knew how many murders were on his conscience...
It was considerably colder by the time they reached the entrance to Nightfall. It was just as he remembered it. The doorway was a rough triangular crack in the rock, wide enough to fit two grown men side-by-side. It was pitch black inside, but there was a warm breeze drifting out into the gorge. It had been twice as foreboding when Nasta Nal-Aket had brought him here, forty years ago. As a child Asher had felt as if he were walking into the mouth of a demon.
Both Faylen and Reyna whispered a spell into their hands and birthed a small orb of light. The orbs floated above them, tethered by magic, and illuminated the entrance floor. Within a few feet, the coarse rock had been replaced with smooth, man-made stone. There were no markings or signs of any kind that one had entered the dwelling of the assassins. Asher inhaled and found his memory tugging at times gone by. His memories of being an Outlander were practically gone now, but his time in Nightfall was as a scar in his mind.
“Keep the light behind me.” The ranger walked a few steps ahead of the elves and sank into the thick shadows.
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