The Elf and the Amulet

by Chris Africa

  The Nydwon was seated among so many pillows that only his head and slender shoulders were visible. She glanced at Lyear, staring calmly ahead, and admired his cool demeanor. Shaven and surrounded by enemies, he acted like they were the audience attending him.

  "Kneel." The guard whacked the back of her legs with a stick, and she fell to her knees beside Lyear. Nita's breath caught as she clearly saw the tattoo on the Nydwon's forehead—a lightning bolt with a curve on the end. So this is the one whose servants were hunting them in the Blackwood!

  "I am expected at Death's End, Nydwon," Lyear said. "I'm on an errand for the Wizards of Xillith. I advise you to release me."

  The Nydwon looked down his nose at the elf. "Keep silent. You are not here to speak."

  "Why am I here?" Lyear asked.

  Nita wished he would just shut up. Did you really think he could talk them out of holding him captive?

  But the Nydwon answered. "You are both here for the same reason, but I'm not going to divulge the reason. If you speak again, your tongue will be removed. I have no need of it."

  Lyear's face darkened, but he stopped talking.

  "Girl, move forward."

  Nita felt something poke her in the middle of her back. She crawled into the little space available in front of Lyear. When she rose to her knees, the Nydwon gasped.

  "You've chosen the bracelet. . . But what is this? What have you done?" Leaning forward, the Nydwon grabbed Nita's forearm in a bony hand, nails digging into her arm.

  "I haven't done anything. It just grew," Nita felt her face flushing. Even the Nydwon didn't know what was wrong. Nita jerked her arm away, and the Nydwon's claws raked her skin. He was cradling his hand as though it had just been injured!

  "Of course you have done something, or it would not have grown so fast."

  "You mean it's supposed to do this? What's it growing into?"

  "Be calm, child. It is a gift. Do you think I would give you a gift that would harm you?"

  "How am I supposed to know whether your gifts will harm me? I'm a prisoner!" she shouted.

  The Nydwon held up her hand. "Be silent. You're not merely a prisoner, you are a tool, an implement for my use. Someone will use you; it may as well be me. You will find me a generally benevolent master, but if you speak to me that way again you'll be punished."

  A tool? An implement? Nita glowered, but the Nydwon took no notice. He leaned back among his pillows and considered Nita, speaking in a near hiss.

  "You took an enchanted bracelet as a gift, though you know not how to control it! Then why did you choose it?" He sounded like he was talking to himself.

  Nita's legs trembled from the awkward position, and her knees ached. When the Nydwon leaned into her face again, she almost fell backward trying to shrink away. It was just a look, but it felt like the Nydwon had attached strings inside her head and was plucking them like a harp. Not exactly painful, but uncomfortable. He must be reading my future, Nita thought.

  But the Nydwon was looking into the wrong eyes.

  Suddenly, someone shoved Nita hard to the side. As she rolled to her feet, she saw a strip of blood bloom across the Nydwon's throat. He slumped back into the pillows, a hand to his throat, eyes open in astonishment. Blood ran through his fingers and onto the pillows.

  One of the guards grasped at his hip for a dagger that seemed to be missing. Lyear kicked him in the gut and slit the throat of his companion with the purloined dagger. The first collapsed backward, gasping for breath, and crashed into the side of the tent, which swayed and toppled onto its side, slowly collapsing. Lyear leaped to the side.

  He's so fast! Nita thought in admiration.

  Now exposed to the open air, Nita sensed the hundreds of Dalatois eyes on her back. She spun around and searched for something to use as a weapon, trying to watch every direction at once. But the warriors were gathering around Lyear, who was dashing here and there with the dagger. The rest of the camp was chaos, people were on their knees howling and holding their heads or convulsing in the dirt. A gong sounded from the middle of the camp.

  Nita stared at the Dalatois writhing in the dirt. Then she saw a sword on one of the unconscious guards. She could barely lift it. She dropped the sword and rushed toward Lyear, who was surrounded by dozens of Dalatois. She might not like the elf very much, but she had not come all this way from home to fail the quest that had brought her here! Before she reached them, Lyear disappeared in the crush. A moment later, his bleeding body was lifted triumphantly into the air, limp and motionless.

  Nita staggered, her emotions writhing. She felt she would suffocate if Lyear—her only connection to home, however tentative—died. All would be lost. She was alone in the middle of thousands of Dalatois. And who even knew where she would find the amulet? She must finish this quest, so she could go home to her family and her inn. Nita fell to her knees, reaching helplessly toward Lyear. She must do something. She had promised Vornole. But what could she do? She was one lost girl without even a weapon she could use.

  Someone was yelling.

  The wailing grew louder, angrier, until she thought her head would burst with the sheer fury of it. But where was it coming from? Gradually she realized that the gong had stopped, and that the Dalatois were staring at her, backing away. The wail was coming from her own mouth.

  Her skin came alive, and she felt the silver spreading across her body. The individual leaf buds popped madly as they opened into tiny silver leaves, the branches growing up the right side of her face and into her hair, across her scalp.

  Nita stopped screaming.

  Suddenly, Dalatois bodies were hurling away from the crowd around Lyear, landing on fires and tents and other bodies. Twenty, then twenty more, and twenty more. Men started to run. Finally, Lyear hung in the air by himself, a few hands off the ground.

  Nita looked around to see if some wizard had come to save them. But there was no wizard. There was only her, with her ensilvered arm outstretched... holding Lyear off the ground, she realized.

  Slowly, she lowered her arm and dropped him clumsily onto the dirt, where he remained motionless. Rushing to his side, she was relieved to see that he was still breathing.

  "I need a healer," she shouted at the nearest Dalatois, who shied away from her voice.

  Silence. The visible faces shrunk back into shadows.

  "Bring me a healer, or I will destroy you! All of you!" she shouted, waving her arm around.

  She felt a little melodramatic as she said it. After all, she had never intentionally hurt anyone and didn't know how to control this new power. After a few seconds, someone crept forward and pressed her forehead to the ground.

  "I will bring her," the woman said and disappeared behind a group of tents.

  Moments later, another woman emerged. Nita had expected someone very old and hunched over like Pookana, but was surprised to see a young girl carrying a satchel and looking nothing at all like a Dalatois. She was stick thin, pale, and her eyebrows were so white that from a distance she appeared to have none. Her ears were slightly pointed, and she had long white hair pulled into a tight braid on her back. She was also dressed in a neat tunic and breeches the color of a wheat field.

  "You're an elf!" Nita said.

  "And you're a sorceress. Now get out of my way."

  The healer knelt over Lyear and worked quickly cleaning away the caked blood. Then she deftly stitched his wounds, coating everything with a paste of herbs and wine. When she was finished, she leaned back and examined her work—and Lyear, too, Nita thought.

  "How was he ever able to fight off all those warriors," Nita wondered. "He's so skinny."

  The healer did not answer. She summoned a litter and spoke quietly to the bearers, who put Lyear in it and trotted off.

  "You may remain with your friend in my tent, if you wish," the healer said.

  "I'm Nita. What's your name?"

  "I am Lorthana, the last of my sept, heiress to the Fern Throne, forsaken of all elvenkind."

&nbs
p; That was some title. Andrev would probably understand the significance of the references to the sept and the Fern Throne. Why was she forsaken? Nita would have to ask her that sometime, if a friendlier occasion presented itself. For now, Lorthana was one of the enemy.

  She looked around. Some Dalatois were starting to reset their tents, while others were nursing their wounds, but all had a cautious eye on her. "What about them?" Nita gestured to the crowd of onlookers.

  "They respect magic and the authority of magic users." Lorthana said. "You may remain here until he is ready to travel. You will not be bothered. A girl will see to your needs."

  Nita was left standing in the clearing as the healer turned and walked away.

  Just like that? First she was a prisoner, and now suddenly she would not be bothered?

  "Wait! Thank you for saving him," she said, catching up.

  "You saved him. I merely rectified some of the damage." The healer ducked inside a tent, and Nita followed.

  "Your friend is a strong and noble man to have taken on all those warriors on your behalf." Lorthana gazed at Lyear in open admiration. Nita could not understand why. He was pale and bone thin. The youngest farm boy in Waet had more muscle and hair than this waif.

  "He's no friend of mine. He was planning to escape without me," she said. "It was an accident that we weren't both killed."

  "You're wrong," the healer said, touching Lyear's cheek with her fingers. "He knew your strength and depended on you to use it. He trusted you. The only accident was that you lived up to his expectations."

  Nita blushed. Were all elves rude and arrogant? "You know nothing about him," she said. "He left his dying friend in a strange village. Alone."

  The healer gave her a fierce look. "I know Elvenkind well enough. If he left a friend, it was for good reason. If he started battle he could not win, it was to teach you a skill you could not learn on your own. If he is not your friend, perhaps it is because you're not worthy."

  The girl who came later to bring Nita food introduced herself as Adar, one of the horse tenders.

  "You gave me the bracelet. Why?" Anger flooded Nita, but she held it in, just a little afraid of what her arm might do if she lost control of her emotions. Maybe there was a reasonable explanation.

  "I didn't know it would do that, I swear it," Adar's voice was soft, her eyes downcast, but she spoke in a rush. "It is made of godsilver. I heard the Nydwon say you were from the dryad home, so I thought you may be able to use it."

  "Use it? How? I don't even know what it is," Nita said.

  "This has happened before, with others before you, whenever the Nydwon did not know the strength of the magic user. Certain among us are chosen to present magical gifts. The hostage must choose a gift, and if the Nydwon is able to use it to great advantage, the chosen who gave it is rewarded." Adar set Nita's food in front of her, then moved to Lyear's side, where she lifted his head and squeezed water into his mouth from a cloth. "I knew he would presume to control you with the bracelet, but I hoped..."

  "Hoped what?" Nita asked.

  "Hoped you could use it. That you would be stronger than the Nydwon. I hoped you would use him, instead of him using you." Adar lifted her eyes, and Nita saw the slightest bit of defiance in them.

  Nita sat back on her heals, confused. "Your people worship the Nydwon."

  Adar shook her head. "No, some have been touched by him and he controls them somehow. Before you came and destroyed the Nydwon, some among us believed that they worshipped him. But Dalatois do not worship earthly creatures."

  "Then why did everyone follow the Nydwon's orders? People died in Sunoa because of his orders." Nita could hardly believe what she was hearing.

  Adar nodded. "They were not acting of their own will."

  "What about you? How did you manage to escape the Nydwon's control?"

  "I am a simple horse tender, beyond the notice of someone such as the Nydwon. He controlled the Tsen, and I follow the Tsen. That is the way of the Dalatois."

  Clever girl! Nita wished they could have known each other somewhere else, under different circumstances. "And who does the Tsen follow now that the Nydwon is dead?"

  "Why, he is the Tsen! He follows no one," Adar said, but then she paled. "Unless… Do you intend to lead us?"

  "No, I do not want to lead you."

  "He would follow a powerful sorceress."

  "I'd rather have friends than followers," Nita said. She didn't know where that idea had come from, but it sounded right.

  Adar's face brightened. "Then we are free again! This is a day for celebration."

  And with that she shot out of the tent so fast that Nita did not have the opportunity to ask the other questions milling around inside her head: How had the Dalatois come here from Across the Nareeth, with their heavy mounts and huge armies? What did they want? And what had the Nydwon wanted with them?

  28: William Goes Missing

  "Stop it! Go away!" It felt like someone was pounding on Chassy's head. He pulled the pillow over his face to keep out the offender, but the pounding didn't stop. As the fog of sleep cleared away, Chassy realized the painful throbbing was coming from inside his head. Someone was shaking his arm, though.

  "Chassy, wake up!" Andrev said. "Wake up or I'm going to pour a bucket of water on you."

  "What do you want? I'm sleeping!" Chassy opened his eyes. The bright sunlight streaming in the window stabbed at them, making him groan. He rolled over to face Andrev. "What do you want, Andrev?"

  "Idiot. What did you do, drink away all of our coin?" Chassy's mouth opened, but the pain in his eyes overrode his ability to speak.

  Andrev answered himself. "You did, didn't you? And where is William? We were supposed to leave on a ship at first light."

  A ship? William? Chassy sat up so fast his head spun and he had to ease back on the bed to calm his heaving stomach. "I don't know where William is. Have you asked the innkeeper?"

  "She hasn't seen him. And I've been down to the Tides and they've not seen him there either. But that wretched dwarf woman insisted that he left without finding so much as a scrap of wood to float on."

  Chassy frowned. "Have you checked with that healer, Magne?"

  "It's noonday, Chassy. While you were sleeping off your drink, I've been out looking for William. I've asked every merchant on this street and questioned all the dockhands and everyone else who would talk to me. No one saw him after he left the Tides. All the ships have gone. He left without us."

  Sitting up—slowly this time—Chassy gritted his teeth against the dull ache in his head and silently vowed that he would not vomit in front of Andrev.

  "William wouldn't leave us intentionally," Chassy said. "He's not that kind of person. There must be another explanation."

  "Don't be dense, Chassy. What do we know about William? Almost nothing at all."

  Chassy wasn't sure he trusted William entirely, but he did trust his vision. "I know he didn't leave us to die in the woods. If he had wanted to be rid of us, why wouldn't he have just left us helpless out there? Why bring us to town where we could tell stories about his cargo?"

  There was no need for Chassy to put on his clothes; he had dropped into bed wearing everything, including a boot on his left foot and two Waet silk stockings on the right. He peeled off the stockings to see how his foot was coming along and marveled that the wound was almost completely healed. He could wear his other boot again. Reluctantly, he handed stockings back to Andrev, who snatched them away.

  "I just don't think he would do it," Chassy said. "I think we should wait here and see if he shows up. Maybe he had to go looking for another ship or something."

  "How long do you propose to wait? We were to leave at first light." Andrev said. "My little sister is out there somewhere, possibly captured by strangers, and you want to wait?!"

  He was right. William had not returned as promised, which meant something had gone wrong. Chassy did not know enough of William's affairs or history, or even his character, to know
what might have gone wrong, but he had a strong feeling that William had not left of his own accord. This feeling seemed to emanate from the pendant. Well, Dulisa had said Chassy would always know what he needed to know.

  "Okay, then, we leave. We travel downriver, as we had planned, and make our way to Char, where we meet up with the guards and the wagon," Chassy said. "If anyone can find William, they can."

  "It will be days before we get to Char," Andrev argued. "If he has been taken against his will, as you suggest, he will likely be dead by then, or so far away as makes no difference. If he has left us behind intentionally, which I believe is the case, he won't be waiting for us in Char, and we will have wasted several valuable days traveling."

  Andrev could be pessimistic about optimism. Chassy threw up his hands. "Fine! We'll do your plan. What is it?"

  "Now that we know where we are, I think we should send a pigeon to Char and to Death's End to let Nita know where we are going. Then we cut through the mountains and head straight for Sunoa."

  "We don't have any coin to send a pigeon. Anyway, what if Nita isn't in Char or Sunoa? What if one of the Northmen intercepts the message? Andrev, what about the elf and the amulet? Our promise?" Just thinking about giving up brought a pang of anxiety.

  "The elf. The amulet." Andrev's voice mocked him. "If we had never met that fool wizard, we would not have been caught up in this. This, whatever it is, is none of our concern. What good is a promise if we're scattered to the corners of the world? We have no hope of catching him now anyway. He's probably already beat us to Death's End and sold the thing. Meanwhile, we're left in the middle of nowhere, with no coin. If the fate of the village depends on us, we're doomed."

  The venom in his voice caused Chassy to lean away. Anger, helplessness and worry sparred for control of Andrev's face, but anger was winning.

  "I know you're frustrated and worried about Nita. So am I. But I don't think we can quit now," Chassy said. "The Northmen may still be after us, and I am not going to lead half-giants and Dalatois back home to rip out our trees and crush our houses. You saw what they did at Sunoa. Have you even thought about this at all?"