Luthiel's Song: Dreams of the Ringed Vale

by Robert Marston Fannéy

  Lorethain gripped his tankard hard. The cup clattered against the stone table. Winowe was crying. Hueron growled. But what shocked Luthiel the most was Glendoras. In all her fifteen years, she’d never seen him angry. Now his face contorted into a look of utter rage. He clenched his fist so tightly that cords of muscle in his forearm stood out.

  “How dare they,” he said in a quiet tone that carried more force than any shout.

  Hueron locked eyes with Glendoras and seemed to share his rage. “Four in one year. It flies in the face of their promise!” He spat on the ground.

  Then she looked at Leowin. She was deathly white. Her eyes fluttered, she was trembling. Even the tips of her ears seemed to quaver. Luthiel grabbed the little pouch around her neck.

  How could I have possibly felt relief? she thought. I won’t see her again, not in a thousand years.

  She recalled Leowin as a child, laughing as she splashed in the puddles of a summer shower, making garlands of flowers in the springtime. Leowin had stolen her journal again. She was angry then, but now it made her feel sad. Then she saw an older Leowin, her body like a limp doll. Blood spilled from a gash in her neck and trickled out of two eyeless sockets. Dark forms stood above her—with blood in their mouths.

  Leowin is going to die and I felt relieved? It terrified her. She returned her gaze to Leowin who was doing her best to remain composed. She could see the determination in her eyes as she gave a stiff nod. But her face was pale, like frost touched by moonlight.

  Hiding her face in shame for her cowardice, Luthiel slipped into the shadows beneath the tree and scampered off under the cover of darkness. She climbed until she found a quiet shadow between two boulders. Below, she could see her family clearly and she watched on as she cried. Catching a glimpse of Leowin’s tear-streaked face, she punched the boulder in frustration. Below, her family was silently watching on as Leowin buried her face in Lorethain’s cloak.

  “I can’t let them take her away,” she muttered to herself. Her mind raced.

  I could sneak away with her into hiding.

  But even as the thought crossed her mind she shook her head.

  And then what? Wait to be hunted down by Blade Dancers? Or worse? She held her head in her hands.

  “No! No! No! That won’t do at all. The Vyrl have a werewolf. They’ll send him.”

  She rocked back and forth on her heels, punched the boulders and the dirt, pulled her hair but none of it seemed to help.

  “It’s no use!” she growled to herself in frustration. “Why did it have to be her? Anyone but her!” She tossed a rock down the hill but as she watched it fall into the darkness a chill passed over her.

  “Anyone but her,” she whispered. Then she sat for a while, listening only to her breathing, afraid to continue down the path which her thoughts were leading her.

  “It could be anyone but Leowin,” she said finally and then in a barely audible whisper—“It could be me.”

  She looked up at the moons. She wanted nothing more in that terrible moment than to fly away to some other place. But even the moons seemed to reject her, blazing down on her with a stern glare.

  “I don’t even belong here, do I?” She looked around at Flir Light as though seeing it for the first time. “It’s not even my real home. I don’t even know my real home.” Then she cast her eyes out to the rolling hills of the Minonowe.

  “If there’s anyone who should be going, it should be me,” she said. Though she was still and nearly silent, her heart was pounding so hard her fingertips throbbed.

  Below, her family gathered around Leowin. Winowe put an arm over her shoulder and Glendoras patted her back as they slowly walked off, leaving Vanye alone. He stood still, like a black spike thrust up from the earth, casting long shadows.

  If she was going to do anything, it would have to be now. But her body didn’t seem to want to move and it took great effort just to stand. Her legs didn’t feel right and they wobbled as she made her way down the hill. It was unreal, as though she were watching herself.

  I must be mad, she thought. No sane person would do this. But her feet continued along their path until they carried her to Vanye. He was standing alone with a frown on his face, his left hand clenched into a fist. At first, it seemed that he didn’t notice her. She just stood there a few feet away from him, staring at the ground.

  He motioned with his left hand.

  “Your family’s down there if you want to join them.” His hand fell back to his side and his eyes seemed to unfocus. She started at his bleak tone and it took her a while to gather the courage to speak.

  “Vanye, I came to talk with you.” Her throat felt tight and dry but she continued regardless.

  Vanye shook his head.

  “I know what it is you’re going to ask me.” His eyes flashed dangerously but in them she also saw sadness. “I wish I could give you another answer.”

  She took a step back, almost ran. But something, she didn’t know what, held her there.

  “It’s not what you think. I just wanted to know if–”

  The Blade Dancer glared at her. Her voice broke, her legs wanted to run but somehow she managed to stand her ground.

  “I just wanted to know if you’d let me go to the Vale instead.”

  Vanye turned so that she couldn’t see his face. His sharp form loomed over her like a barricade. Again she felt the urge to run, again she resisted. Then the Blade Dancer let out a low chuckle.

  “Well, you certainly have surprised me. Brave, though, and very foolish.” His eyes reflected the moons’ glare. He reached out, and before she could flinch away, caught her shoulder in his firm grip. He pulled her closer till they were almost nose to nose. His eyes bored into hers, searching.

  “No one has ever made such an offer.” His grip tightened and the gleam in his eyes grew even more intense. “You know that what you say is against our law?” he said.

  She felt her breath catch yet within her there was a small spark of defiance.

  “But the Vyrl have also broken the law. Leowin will be their fourth.” She stood beneath the intense gleam of his eyes for a few more moments wondering if she’d said too much.

  “Perhaps I’ve drifted just enough to take you up.” For an instant, he seemed unsure of himself.

  “You will?” she asked, not knowing what to hope for.

  “I will?” His eyes wandered for a moment toward the path Leowin had taken. His hand tightened yet again, and then his eyes returned with an even greater intensity in them.

  “No.”

  Luthiel froze. One last time, she almost turned away. But, somehow, she stood fast.

  “I could go anyway,” she said.

  “You don’t understand,” Vanye said. “You can’t. I can’t. No elf can. It cannot be done.”

  “Please,” Luthiel said. “She’s my sister.”

  “You’re asking me to kill you.”

  “I’m asking you to save her.”

  Vanye stood still for a moment. His breath steamed in the night air.

  “Did you like dancing with her?” she asked.

  The Blade Dancer’s eyes flashed.

  “This is ridiculous. You’re not going,” he said resting his hand on his sword hilt.

  “Well, then, you’ll have to kill two people tonight,” she said, making a move to walk around him.

  His arm shot out, catching her across the shoulders. He must have meant to grab her but his blow fell heavy, knocking her off her feet and onto the ground. She used her hands to break her fall. But when she struck the ground, her pouch slipped out from under her shirt. The draw strings must have loosened, for her Stone rolled out of the bag and onto the ground. It bounced once, twice, and then rolled along the ground before coming to rest in front of Vanye.

  It glimmered, the small spark at its center shining in the darkness.

  Luthiel stared, disbelieving, at the Stone. How had it popped out like that? She shifted her eyes, glancing fearfully at the Blade Dancer.
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br />   Vanye stood still for a moment, staring at the Stone. He stooped, reached out his hand. It opened above the Stone, closed, opened again. Then, in a fluid motion, he scooped the Stone into the palm of his hand. Cradling it, he walked over to her and gently returned it to her pouch.

  “I am sorry,” he said.

  Luthiel’s breath caught in her throat. But she nodded her acceptance as Vanye helped her stand.

  “Now listen to me carefully.” He waited until he was satisfied he had her full attention.

  “You are going to have to move fast. The Vyrl will send their werewolf Othalas for your sister. You’re going to have to pass into the Vale and reach them before he returns. I may be able to delay him. But it still doesn’t give you much time. So you have to leave tonight. Do you understand me?”

  She did her best to control her fear. Now you’ve really done it, Luthy she thought. Like it or not you’re going to the Vale of Mists.

  “I—I understand,” she stammered.

  “You are a child. If you knew what this thing is that you’re doing you would not be doing it.”

  “I choose to,” she replied, a little steadier.

  “Good. Now the fastest way is to turn west and follow the Rendalas. It spills into the Vale at Withy Wraith falls. Beside the falls is an old staircase. The staircase leads to the floor of the Vale. From there you will have to find your own way to the Vyrl.”

  This time, she couldn’t bring herself to speak so she only nodded. The fear was nearly overwhelming and she was having trouble meeting the Blade Dancer’s gaze. Vanye seemed to notice and grabbed her chin, lifting her face till their eyes met.

  “Every thousand years or so, someone lives to return. I’ve met two. When I asked them how they made it, they both told me the same thing. They didn’t give up. I hope to see you again, Luthiel, so don’t lose heart.” He paused for a moment.

  “The only reason I will help you,” he glanced off toward the departing Leowin “the only reason, is that I believe you might have a chance.”

  He let go of her chin and she looked away.

  “You probably tell that to all Chosen,” she said.

  “Only those I think will hear it,” he replied.

  “I’ll try to remember what you said.”

  “That will just have to do for now. I’ll do what I can to delay the werewolf.” He slapped her on the shoulder. “Now, you’d better get going.”

  She turned, took a few steps, then stopped and looked over her shoulder. “Thank you,” she said.

  “I should thank you. What you’re doing has never been done; it is a far better thing than you know.” He drew his sword and touched it to the ring of blades on his shoulder in salute. “You won’t be forgotten.” Then he lowered his sword as he spoke the ancient farewell. “May your feet always walk in the light of two suns.”

  “May the moonshadow never fall upon you,” she replied.

  “Now go!” Vanye said and she was off, pausing only long enough to gather her unopened birthday presents. She laughed grimly at herself for running toward the danger; she was so afraid she couldn’t help but run.

  Silent Farewell

  Luthiel rushed toward her fae holme. She skirted the revelers, hurrying past those who tried to talk or held their hands out in gestures of comfort. Friends and acquaintances alike were left staring after her as she fled down the hill.

  “Wait! I thought we’d talk!” Galwin shouted as he ran after her. But she only ran faster.

  “Can’t talk,” she muttered.

  “I thought we’d–” he sputtered as she outdistanced him. “Well, thanks for the dance anyway!” he yelled after her.

  Near the bottom of the hill, she spotted her family. They were in the middle of a large group of elves gathering around Leowin. Those closest to Leowin were laying their hands on her, murmuring quietly. She peered through the crowd, hoping to catch a last look. But too many were blocking the way.

  Despite herself, she stopped running and took a few steps toward the crowd. But even standing on tiptoe, she couldn’t see Leowin. She stood there for a moment longer, then started pushing her way through them. She was jostled but somehow she got closer. Soon, she was standing less than twenty feet from her sister. Peering through a break in the crowd, she watched Leowin gracefully accept each gesture of comfort. Though Leowin’s voice was calm, Luthiel could see the fear in her eyes, the trembling of her hands.

  Luthiel couldn’t move. She wanted to give Leowin comfort, to let her know she was going instead. Wasn’t there something she could say?

  Luthiel stood there for a time, worrying over what she could do or say. To her, it seemed only a few moments. But it was actually much longer. Minutes passed as Luthiel stared into space trying to think of something to say to her sister. But she never found anything that would suit.

  Just leave, she thought to herself. I’m only making it worse.

  Then, as she was about to back her way through the crowd, Leowin saw her. Their eyes met. The crowd seemed to notice Luthiel as well and the quiet murmuring fell into silence as they turned to stare at her.

  “I saw you running down the hill. Why were you running?” Leowin asked.

  Luthiel stood there not knowing what to say. “I was afraid–” her voice broke.

  Leowin’s eyebrows lowered and she frowned.

  “So am I,” she said. “Even though everyone is here, I feel so lonely.”

  Luthiel ached. If only she could hug her. If only she could explain.

  “I can’t,” she whispered, more to herself than to anyone else. She stood for another moment, torn. Then she realized she couldn’t stay an instant longer. She could lose her resolve, or worse, tell them what she was planning. She wanted to tell them even now. If she did, they would try to stop her. She remembered Vanye’s words.

  “You know that what you say is against the law?” he had said. Hardening herself, she looked back into Leowin’s eyes.

  Leowin gasped, mistaking Luthiel’s firm look for anger.

  “Luthiel?” she asked. Luthiel could see tears welling up in her eyes.

  “I have to go,” she said simply. In the quiet, her voice seemed to carry far up the hillside. She almost broke again. How could she treat her this way?

  “I love you so much!” she said in a rush. She turned away and ran up the hill.

  “Don’t leave!” Leowin cried after her. “Don’t go! I’m afraid! I need you!” There was a hysterical edge to Leowin’s voice. A sharp pang ripped through Luthiel’s chest and tears streamed freely down her face. But she didn’t turn around. She knew if she looked into Leowin’s eyes again she wouldn’t be able to stand it. She would break and everything—her decision, her dim hope that she could save Leowin—would melt away. She would be helpless again, able to do nothing more than comfort her until the werewolf came.

  Then, anger rose in her. She wouldn’t let it happen. She would do something. Her heart pounded and she ran faster.

  “I love you, Leowin,” she whispered as she ran. But no one heard. Behind her, Leowin struggled against the arms of Winowe and Lorethain.

  “Let me go! I want to see my sister!” she cried.

  “Leowin, let her go. Can’t you see she’s afraid too?” Winowe whispered into her ear.

  “Let her!? She’s a coward. A COWARD!!!” she yelled.

  Luthiel flinched. But she didn’t turn around.

  She’ll understand, she thought. She’ll understand when I tell her. But a horrible dread fell over her and she feared she’d never have the chance. Luthiel ran as fast as she could away from the crowd, away from her family, and away from Leowin. Fae holmes slid by her in the darkness as she sprinted up a trail she’d walked a thousand times. Afraid of more encounters with friends or family, she was careful to stick to the shadows and the trail led her home without further mishap.

  Out front, she was met by her moon-hound Kindre. He nudged her. But she was so preoccupied by her thoughts of Leowin that she didn’t notice him at al
l. With a hurt expression in his eyes he loped behind her as she entered the front wind-hole.

  Flir bug light streamed down onto her, making small white circles at her feet. It was a comfortable place filled with arching branches and a high ceiling of green. Carpets of moss were shot through with pebble pathways and water ran in furrows down the great tree to collect in basins of living wood that kept it ever fresh. Hanging white ivy and skeins of fine cloth divided rooms that were roofed by intertwining branches. High above, a breeze rustled through the leaves. Small bells hung from wind charms tinkled softly. It was a sound slightly changed from that of the open wood, a sound that reminded her of rest and happiness.

  Will I ever hear it again? Luthiel thought. The pain in her chest hadn’t gone away yet. She figured it wouldn’t until she saw Leowin again—if she saw Leowin again. She exhaled, trying to calm herself. Then she bunched her body up and leapt onto one of the lower branches. She sprang from one to another until she came to her loft near the leaf-roof some fifty feet up. It was a wide row of interwoven branches jutting from the trunk. For walls it had brightly colored cloths that were bound to the branches arching up from the boughs that made the floor. It reminded her of a cocoon. When it rained she loved to sit and listen to it pitter-patter on the leaves above her.

  She stopped for a moment and her eyes fell to the heartwood basin Winowe had shaped for her. In its water she could see her face reflected. She stepped closer. A small and afraid girl stared back at her. Her eyes were red, her hair rumpled and the dry streaks of tears were plain on her face. Disgusted with what she saw, she splashed the water.

  Falling back onto her bed, she let out a long sigh. She wanted to fall asleep, curl up and forget it happened. But the longer she lay there the more the aching in her chest grew.

  “What am I doing!” she snapped. Sitting up, she looked over her loft. “I don’t even know what to take,” she said. For a time, she just sat there, staring at her plate shaped shelves, feeling the ache in her chest spread down into her stomach. She’d never been more than a few days from Flir Light and that was always with Glendoras or Lorethain or uncle Hueron. They helped her pack, so she had little idea of what to bring with her on the long journey to the Vale.