Silvaranwyn shook her head. “It is Iarion’s to bear. It is he who must carry it back to Melaquenya. I have seen it.”
“I will not go without him,” Linwyn said, her gaze mutinous.
“I won’t leave him either,” Barlo said.
Golaron sighed once more. “Come on then, Hidar. The faster we make a stretcher, the sooner we can leave this place.”
Hidar threw his hands in the air in defeat and helped Golaron find two stout branches they could use. They lashed Iarion’s sleeping roll between them after they had been cut to an even length by Barlo’s ax. It was lucky they were still close enough to the forest for there to be deadfall.
Once the stretcher was ready, they settled Iarion into place. The elf did not stir. Barlo placed himself at one end of the stretcher, waiting to lift.
“I know you want to help,” Golaron said with a shake of his head. “But both bearers must be of similar height. It has to be Hidar and me.”
Barlo backed away, seeing the wisdom of Golaron’s words, but feeling helpless. With a grunt the two men lifted, Hidar at the front. The fiery-haired man had placed his spear at Iarion’s side on the stretcher, within easy reach. Now that Iarion was incapacitated, Hidar was the leader of their group, being the only one who had any knowledge of where they were going. Barlo didn’t like it, but they had little choice.
He could see Golaron was also uncomfortable with the situation. The man’s murky eyes bored into Hidar’s back as they carried Iarion between them.
Barlo remembered the words Golaron had spoken in the dungeon. What if Hidar really was an enemy? They had only Silvaranwyn’s word to go on. Barlo trusted the elf lass, but his trust for others came more slowly. Hidar had been the last to join their group and he had mostly kept to himself. He could be leading them into a trap for all they knew. Iarion’s eyelids flickered as he lay on the stretcher. Barlo wondered what his friend was seeing.
For hours, Barlo trotted alongside the two men, silently cursing his friend’s curiosity. Linwyn shuffled at his side, her mind clearly elsewhere. Barlo sighed. Time and again he had warned the girl not to get tangled up with Iarion. Now it could cost them all their lives. If it came down to a fight, Barlo wasn’t certain Linwyn would be much help with the state she was in.
Silvaranwyn had fought before, but Barlo remembered what it had cost her. She had not drawn her bow or dagger since the battle for Belierumar, using her magic instead. From the look of things, she didn’t have much of that left either.
No one spoke of the hopelessness of their quest. They raced the fading darkness in silence, knowing they had maybe an hour before dawn. They had to reach the mountains before then if they wanted to remain undetected by the Forsworn, who would surely search from above on their fearsome drakes.
Hidar and Golaron panted with exertion. Barlo wished he could take a turn bearing his friend so he could relieve one of them, but there was nothing to be done.
Hidar continued to lead them in a southeasterly direction. The mountains loomed ahead. They could all only hope Hidar would find the pass that led south out of the tainted lands.
Silvaranwyn seemed to get stronger with each step they took away from Mar Valion, her back and shoulders straightening. A reserve of inner steel was beginning to creep to the surface. Her strange, silver eyes still looked sorrowful, but it was as if she knew and had accepted her fate, embracing it at last.
Barlo shook his head in wonder. Linwyn had repeatedly asserted her opinion that the elf was weak, but now Barlo wondered in a battle of wills, which of the two women would win. He used such thoughts to distract himself from Iarion’s condition. He couldn’t afford to lose himself in his fear like Linwyn.
Hidar and Golaron began to slow. They were at the foot of the mountains, which rose like a wall before them, blocking them to the south and east.
“What is it?” Barlo asked.
Hidar frowned. “I will need to look around. I think the pass is somewhere around here, but I am not sure where.”
Golaron grumbled as he lowered the stretcher to the ground. “I will help you look. Barlo, you stay here with the others.” He spared a glance for his sister, who remained oblivious. Barlo met Golaron’s gaze and nodded.
The two men fanned out, scrambling among the rocks, trying to find a path. It was nerve-racking. The sky to the south was free of the dark cloud that hovered over Saviadro’s domain, and it was beginning to lighten. Barlo stood next to Silvaranwyn, Linwyn, and Iarion, feeling vulnerable out in the open. He held his breath, half-expecting one of the Forsworn to fly overhead at any moment.
Time seemed to crawl by until Hidar shouted a cry of triumph. He ran back to the others, beckoning Golaron to join him.
“I found it,” he panted. “It’s over there.” He pointed to where the mountains began to curve to the east.
Golaron took his place at the stretcher. “Let’s go.” He and Hidar lifted and they were off once more. Iarion gave no sign of life, despite being jostled. Suddenly, Silvaranwyn went still.
It took Barlo a moment to realize she was no longer running beside him. He stopped and looked back. “What’s wrong?”
She looked behind them to the northwest. “They are coming. I can feel them.” Golaron and Hidar looked at her, their eyes going wide. None of them could see what she saw, but they knew what she meant.
“Then let’s go!” Barlo went back and tugged at the elf’s arm. “Come on. We’ve no time to waste!”
Silvaranwyn snapped out of her trance and began to run once more. Linwyn stumbled along beside them. They ran into the mountains along a small path. Barlo put on a burst of speed and ran ahead of the burdened men, knowing someone needed to see whether the pass was clear. It wouldn’t do for them to run into a group of Darkling Men with two Forsworn Ones on their tail.
Barlo pumped his short legs as fast as they would go, rounding a corner ahead of the group. Even he could sense the approach of the Forsworn now. He didn’t dare look up to the sky behind them.
What were they going to do? They would never make it through the pass before they were spotted. Barlo shook his head and tried to focus on running.
He was so distracted he almost missed seeing the cave. It was a narrow crevice cut into the mountainside. He skidded to a stop, peering into the darkness inside. He heard no sign of movement, so he entered with his ax drawn.
The cave wasn’t deep, but it was empty. Scorch marks darkened the stone floor, marking it as a frequent camping spot for dark creatures entering or leaving their master’s domain. It was perfect.
Barlo ran back down the path to meet the others, who weren’t far behind. The Forsworn were drawing closer. Soon they would be spotted. Hidar and Golaron ran on doggedly, while Silvaranwyn urged Linwyn along.
“There’s a cave up ahead, around the corner,” Barlo panted. “If we can get there in time, they won’t see us. We can wait until they’ve gone.”
The men nodded and put on another burst of speed. Barlo could feel the hairs on the back of his neck rising as the Forsworn flew closer. The cave seemed farther away than he remembered. Then they rounded a corner and he saw it as a shadow overhead darkened the pass behind them.
“Come on!” He urged the others inside, just before the Forsworn flew past.
It was all Hidar and Golaron could do to lower Iarion gently to the ground before collapsing. Silvaranwyn helped Linwyn to sit. They had barely enough room to crouch inside with Iarion stretched out. Barlo let out a heavy sigh of relief, but the now familiar sense of despair began to creep in as the Forsworn flew nearer.
“What now?” Hidar asked, his face pale.
“We wait,” Golaron said.
“But they’re out there! We cannot stay here forever. They will find us.” Hidar’s voice broke. The presence of the Forsworn was already getting to him.
“What do you suggest we do?” Golaron demanded.
“Silvaranwyn still has her magic,” Hidar said. “She used it before to make one of the Forsworn go
away. She could do it again.”
“No.” Golaron’s eyes went hard.
“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Hidar glared back.
“You have seen what using her magic costs her,” Golaron gestured. “Besides, they cannot see us here. There is no need for magic.”
“Yet.”
Golaron started to bridle, but Silvaranwyn held out a hand to calm him. “Golaron is right, Hidar. Using my magic now would only draw attention. If the need is great, I will use it. But it took all my power to distract one drake. There are two of them out there.”
“Then we wait,” Barlo said.
The feeling of despair deepened. Silvaranwyn closed her eyes.
Barlo was so wrapped up in his own unnatural depression he didn’t notice Iarion moving at first. His friend was twitching in the stretcher. Even unconscious, it seemed Iarion could sense the Forsworn.
As the minions of the Fallen One continued their search overhead, Iarion began to moan, writhing as he did so. Linwyn gave a sharp cry and clutched one of Iarion’s hands. Barlo circled around and grabbed the other. Iarion’s head twisted from side to side as he muttered to himself in Elvish. His eyelids fluttered as though he were dreaming.
“Come on, Iarion,” Barlo whispered. “Fight it!”
As the moments crawled by, Iarion’s condition worsened. He began to thrash about on the cave floor. It was all Barlo could do to keep the elf from hurting himself. Iarion’s voice grew louder each time he cried out. Hidar looked over at the cave entrance with each sound to see if they would be caught.
“We need to gag him,” Golaron said. He cut off Barlo’s protest. “I’m sorry, but if we let him continue, he will alert the Forsworn or anyone else nearby. We should also bind him if we do not want him to hurt himself.”
Barlo was reluctant, but he couldn’t fault Golaron’s logic. The dwarf took a tartan handkerchief from his pack and gently used it to gag his friend. Golaron and Hidar had to hold Iarion still so he could be tied. Linwyn whimpered all the while, seeming incapable of speech.
Barlo’s mind was assaulted with dark thoughts. Everyone stopped speaking as they each battled a war within themselves against the despair of the Forsworn.
Barlo found himself thinking about killing Iarion with his ax, just to put his friend out of his misery. What did it matter anyway? They were going to die here, long before their quest was over.
He tried to push such thoughts away, but in his mind, he could already see himself doing it as Iarion lay there, helpless. He looked down to find his hands already gripped his ax, almost of their own accord. The dwarf forced his fingers to uncurl and release the weapon.
No. He wouldn’t do it.
Just when it seemed his thoughts were their bleakest and discovery was certain, Iarion’s silver and sapphire eyes snapped open. A low cry escaped Barlo’s lips. Linwyn dropped the elf’s hand as though she had been burned. She backed away to a corner of the cave.
Iarion’s eyes were wild as looked around him, showing no signs of recognition. His silver hair was matted to his skull with sweat. Barlo took the elf’s face in both hands and forced him to meet his gaze. For a few moments, Iarion tried to look away, but eventually his eyes settled on Barlo’s.
“Iarion,” he said. “It’s me, Barlo. We’re in a cave in the Mountains of Fire. There are Forsworn Ones flying overhead, looking for us. We have to be quiet, or they will find us, understand?” Iarion nodded. “All right. I’m going to take the gag out now. Remember, we have to be quiet.” Barlo worked to untie the sweat-soaked handkerchief.
“What happened?” Iarion asked, his voice rusty from disuse.
“You drank from the Forbidden Pool and collapsed,” Barlo said. “We carried you to the mountains. Hidar found the pass, but the Forsworn showed up, so we had to take shelter here. Their presence was making you cry out and thrash about, so we had to bind and gag you.” Barlo untied the ropes binding Iarion as he spoke. “What were you thinking, you damn fool of an elf! The lady warned you about the pool!”
“I know.” Iarion lowered his head in shame as he moved into a sitting position. “And I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused. I just… Well, I couldn’t help it. I had to try. I had to know.”
“Well, I hope it was worth it,” Barlo grumbled. “What did you see?”
“I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it.” Iarion closed his eyes as though he were in pain.
Hidar looked as though he were about to protest, but Barlo interrupted him. “Some other time then. Here. Have something to eat and clean yourself up.”
The dwarf handed Iarion a waterskin and some dried rations. The elf filled his hands with water and splashed it on his face and neck.
Barlo hid a frown. His friend looked wan, and his eyes were haunted. Barlo silently cursed Iarion’s driving need to take such risks in his search for answers.
Iarion combed his fingers through his matted hair, working out the tangles before re-plaiting his braids. Once he had finished, he ate what Barlo had given him, and took a long drink from the waterskin. Then he stood and began to stretch his stiff muscles in the small space in the cave.
Barlo watched him carefully. Having warmed himself up, the elf stripped to the waist to put on a fresh tunic. Linwyn watched from the corner, eying the white scars that decorated Iarion’s dusky torso.
Iarion stuffed the soiled clothing into his pack and took apart the stretcher, repacking his bedroll. Now that he was clean and his color was back, he seemed much better, but the haunted look in his eyes remained.
“The Forsworn are moving on,” Silvaranwyn said, reminding the others of her presence. “They are leaving this area to search somewhere else.”
“Are you certain?” Hidar asked. “Perhaps we should wait them out some more.”
“We cannot stay here forever,” Golaron said. “We will run out of food and water, that is, if whoever uses this cave does not return and find us first.”
“We must leave now, before they think to search here again,” Iarion said.
“Are you sure you’re up to it?” Barlo asked.
Iarion gave him a pointed look. “I’m fine.”
“All right then.” Barlo sighed. “Let’s leave this wretched place.”
– Chapter Twenty-Eight –
Homecoming
Iarion tried once more to push the visions away. They continued to gnaw at him since he had woken. He set his exhaustion aside and followed Hidar with the others.
In all his long life, Iarion could never remember feeling so weak and tired. He didn’t dare let his companions know what poor shape he was in, but he had a feeling Barlo already suspected.
Drinking from the Forbidden Pool had almost cost his friends their lives as they had borne him away from the dark lands. The visions it had shown him had been horrible. But if he could use the wisdom he had gained to save just one of his companions, he would consider it worth the price.
It was strange to flee through the mountains in broad daylight. But the pass was clear, and Iarion could sense the Forsworn were somewhere far off in the distance. Soon the mountains parted, and the Daran Falnun lay before them. It was a harsher land than the Daran Nunadan. The grass was sparse and browned by the sun. The River of Dawn sparkled in the distance to the south. The ocean lay to the east. Iarion had wandered these lands long ago, before Hidar had been born.
Hidar gained confidence as they returned to the lands he knew so well. “My tribe is not far from here,” he said with a smile. “They will be amazed to see the company I have been keeping!”
Iarion noticed Golaron looking in his direction from time to time to see whether he would resume his place as guide. Iarion knew he was not up to the task after his ordeal. Besides, Hidar lived in these lands and knew their people. Iarion remained silent.
Linwyn was acting strangely toward him once more. Iarion could feel her eyes on him, but every time he looked over at her to meet them, she flushed and shifted her gaze elsewhere. She maintained a wary dista
nce. Iarion didn’t know why she suddenly seemed so uncomfortable around him.
They continued traveling southeast. A cluster of hide tents appeared in the distance. Iarion could see they were painted with the crimson circle and horn insignia Hidar wore. Men and women puttered around the village, performing their daily tasks. Naked children ran laughing among them.
“There it is!” Hidar gestured with pride.
He led them across the grass toward the village, but a group of men came forward and barred their way. The women gathered the children and took refuge in their tents.
The approaching men carried spears, but their armor was leather rather than the steel breastplate Hidar wore. Their ranks parted and a man stepped forward. His hair and beard were a graying red, and he had pale green eyes. His steel breastplate matched Hidar’s.
“Father,” Hidar said as he embraced the man. Out of respect for his companions, he spoke the Common Tongue.
“Greetings, my son. What have you brought to our village?” The man’s eyes narrowed.
“Friends and allies who will stand with us against the Fallen One,” Hidar said with a grin. “They are powerful. I have journeyed with them to the heart of the Fallen One’s domain so they could retrieve the source of his power. We only just escaped the Forsworn when we left the dark lands. I brought them here to hide and rest before continuing south.”
“You were sent to bring us aid from the Sea Elves against the Forsworn,” Hidar’s father chided.
“I could not cross their enchanted river. I went to request aid from Lord Andiraron, but most of the men of Nal Huraseadro have already fallen trying to block the Pass of Stars from an advancing army. Nal Nungalid is under the control of a Forsworn One. There was no one to bring.” Hidar squared his shoulders. “I have done all I could. I believe these people have the best chance of defeating the Fallen One.”
“These people are your friends?” Hidar’s father pressed.
Hidar spoke without hesitation. “They are.”
“Then it seems we have a problem.” The man switched to his own dialect, but Iarion understood. The men of the village fanned out, surrounding Iarion and his companions. “They have something the Forsworn want.”
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