Moab frowned. “We shouldn’t let our search for the Elders distract us from our purpose.”
“Berona needs their help. None of you can tell her how to defeat the soul snares. You’ve suggested setting a fire, but anyone could do that. Why Berona?” All that Georsi said was true. Each step closer to the Demon’s domain meant a step closer to my own doom. We had no answers. Oberin hoped that the Fire Elemental would work with me to incinerate the Forest of Bones, but even that tenuous plan depended on us finding him.
I sighed. “We need to keep on—find Gale.”
“But where are the Elders?” Ilse asked. “Kea could be dying. If he’s consumed by the soul snares, he won’t even find his way back through a red door. There will be nothing left of him.”
“The Elders are cautious. They don’t trust you,” Georsi said.
“Are you sure they’re here?” I demanded.
Georsi stayed quiet.
“Can’t you summon them?” Oberin asked.
“Summon the Elder Race? They have more power in their little finger than we have in our whole bodies.”
I sighed. “Are we at least going the right way?”
“Yes. The woods remain unchanged since I visited them six hundred years ago. Their dwelling is deep in the forest. We should camp and consume all our meat now. We will offend them if we bring it further.”
“A feast then?” I asked.
Georsi smiled. “Yes, let’s have a feast. I have drink that I’ve kept back all this time. We’re safe in here. The Elementals will not dare to come into the forest.”
I shrank back. Elementals? Kilgad, Moab, and Rheyna looked as scared as I felt. Oberin looked guilty.
Georsi chuckled. “You thought I didn’t know that they were nearby, Oberin? I have magic too.”
I narrowed my eyes at Oberin. He should have told me. I’d talk to him later, make sure he understood that I was in charge.
Georsi sniffed. “So those of you who are eager to continue your quest, feel free to leave the protection of the trees. I’m sure you can fight the Elementals all on your own.” He waved at the periphery cheerfully.
No one took him up on his offer. “So what about this feast?” Moab said at last, grinning. “Rheyna needs some food in her.”
* * *
It was a pleasant evening, despite the cold. While Hirschi and Kilgad tended the fire, Rheyna hobbled around, supported by Moab, gathering twigs and branches of holly. She came back with a small crown she placed on my head.
“What’s this for?” I asked.
She just smiled.
Kilgad and Hirschi brushed my weatherbeater and their horses until their coats shone. Ilse stirred the stew, made with our jerky and some dried herbs.
Supper was wonderful, and the mead Georsi poured us smelled like spring, which I hoped I would be alive to experience. I wiped my fingers on my tunic, stretching out my legs, my stomach full. The campfire still burned; the sharp bitter smell tickled my nose.
I felt Oberin’s fingers brush my hair. “Just setting your crown straight. It slipped,” he explained.
His face was so near. He’d bathed despite the chill, and I could smell the fresh water on him, feel the heat of his body.
I turned my face to his in the dark. Our lips met, a hunger welling up in us.
* * *
I was glad when Kilgad woke me to take watch, though my head ached from the mead. I’d dreamt Kea was turning on the spit while Ilse and I waited for him to be cooked.
The night was mostly quiet, broken only by the hiss of an occasional ember. At one point I heard a rustle and investigated. I strained to see in the dark. There might have been a shape moving low to the ground. I walked over to the spot, head swimming from exertion, but there was only bracken. Maybe it was a fox.
When the sky lightened with dawn, I walked the perimeter one last time.
Oberin lay perfectly still on his back. Rheyna and Moab were curled up next to each other like two puppies. Hirschi’s soft snores punctuated the stillness of the morning. He usually lay next to Georsi, but Georsi…
Georsi had disappeared.
I’d stayed awake. Hadn’t I? Or had my eyes closed for a few minutes?
I ran over to his pack, which was next to Ilse, ripping it open. The Book of First Naming was gone too.
Damn him. I’d granted him my trust, and this was how he repaid it. It was my fault. And I would fix it.
I scanned the ground, looking for the telltale broken twigs. Soon enough I found some footsteps in the mud. I followed them to some mossy rocks to the stream where Oberin had bathed, cursing. He’d used the running water to hide his tracks.
The rising sun filtered through the trees, waves of white soft light. I saw a shadow in the bush and ran toward it. There he was.
But it wasn’t Georsi. It was Ilse, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.
“You woke me when you jostled Georsi’s pack. Do you need help finding him?
* * *
The two of us loped through the woods. The forest grew thicker and the trees taller. I’d never been in woods this old before. The trees seemed to breathe in the wind, thronging around me like walls of green and gold. I wouldn’t see Georsi until I was right on top of him.
Despite Ilse’s assurance that she was a Finder, I hoped to get a glimpse of Georsi myself and make sure we were on the right track. The spreading branches of a huge oak tree beckoned me to climb. The surrounding canopy would hide Georsi, but if there was still a group of Elders here, maybe I’d spot them.
I was on a ridge. The stream ran south, where the land sloped down, a sea of green interspersed with bursts of yellow. In the west, the forest met the foreboding, sheer cliffs of the Ash Mountains.
A tendril of smoke wafted through the treetops by the stream. I sniffed and caught the scent of burning wood. That must be a settlement—hopefully one belonging to the Elder Race. Georsi would have smelled it too.
I scrambled back down, eager to reach Georsi. Ilse struggled to keep up as I trotted toward the smoke. My nose led me straight to a clearing. I stopped, my mouth falling open.
Georsi lay motionless on a bier made of willows. Though he was still, his eyes were open, and a slight smile was on his face. From behind him rose the evening moon, a slender sliver of silver. It was later than I thought, or time ran on a different plan here.
Birds sang—some of them a mournful warble like doves, others in a pleasing trill. On a declivity in a stone rested a torch, still smoldering. The bier had just been lit.
I rushed to Georsi’s side, kicking aside branches lying on the ground. The pile hadn’t caught on fire yet, but flames licked all around. Any moment it would all burst into flame. I screamed his name.
The bier ignited with a roaring blaze.
I jumped back from the wall of heat. Ilse darted to the back, wrestling out a log to try to topple the bier, and I raced over to help her. What manner of evil was this? Had the Elder Race joined the Demon?
I’d created a fire using the name from the book. Could I remember the Elemental’s name? It floated in, at the edge of my mind. Engalad.
“Cease, Engalad,” I cried.
I jumped back in surprise when a massive man materialized. His skin had the color and shine of chestnuts. He said in heavily accented Trade, “This is my realm, girl. I give the orders here, not you.”
The Elders looked like mortals crossed with trees—long, slender, olive-tinted complexions. This man was not an Elder.
I reached for my sword, but he was quicker. He caught my hand in an iron grip. His dry skin felt as if he’d been roasting in the fire himself. “Calm down.”
I wriggled my wrist gently, testing to see if I could break away. It was hopeless. My sword was magic. I wondered if I could move it through my thoughts alone.
He turned to Ilse. “You, Mannite wench. Step away from the fire, or you’ll get hurt.”
Ilse walked over to my side, hand resting on her dagger. The man noted her gesture and laughe
d. “I’d caution you against fighting me.”
I concentrated. My sword flicked like the tail of an angry cat, but I couldn’t get it to rise on its own. “Let me help the old man. Please,” I implored.
“He’s being released from life.”
True, Georsi had said they would grant him death, but I hadn’t imagined they would roast him. Panic rose as I smelled the woodfire. Had they spelled him that he stayed still and mute? I twisted hard, tried to kick the man in the groin, and Ilse went at him from the other side. He slapped Ilse away, caught my knee with one hand, and threw me down. I landed hard on my side, wincing.
“Girl of Fire. Stop your nonsense.”
“We know each other?” I said. Perhaps this was the Fire Elemental who’d helped me before.
“I’m King Gale,” the man said.
“Look, Berona, Georsi doesn’t seem to be in pain,” Ilse said.
“We’re not hurting him,” he assured us.
“His flesh is burning,” I pointed out, though it didn’t smell as terrible as I expected. There was a second smell overlying it, like the costly frankincense that Amur’s Chosen used.
“His spirit begged for release. This is the cleanest way to do it.” Gale still gripped my sword hand, restraining me. I looked up at him. He was easily the size of an Elemental, though his features were those of a man.
“I’ll give you safe passage through the flames to make your farewells, but respect our wishes—his and ours. His exit must be peaceful, so he’ll find the path to the red door.”
When I nodded, Gale led me closer. The flames gave way before him; he held up one hand, double the size of mine, warding off the heat. He spoke words in a low sonorous speech, words that sounded much like those in the Book of First Naming.
The Book! Was it about to burn?
I clambered up, leaning close to Georsi’s withered face. As promised, I was protected against the flames. “Where’s the Book?”
Ilse had pulled closer and heard me. “King Gale has it,” she whispered.
I raised my hand to touch Georsi’s wrinkled cheek, and the flames moved away. If I lay over him, my body would protect him. But even as I had this thought, I knew Gale would not permit this. I had to say goodbye, and only that.
My earlier anger and disappointment drained away as I understood how fond I’d become of the old rascal. A tear trickled down my cheek. I couldn’t remember any recent words of kindness I’d shared with Georsi. My thoughts had only been of the obstacles that lay in our path. I kissed him on the forehead; then I pushed my hands around in his faded Green robe, hunting for the Book, despite Ilse’s assurance. I did not find it.
It was time to pray. Georsi’s passing was close.
“Brother, may your next lessons be gentle when you come back through the red door. The red door awaits you; go forward into the light for gentle lessons.” Ilse’s voice joined mine.
“Leave him now,” Gale commanded. Suddenly the heat hit me in the face like a blow. I jumped down, tumbling away from the danger. Gale threw small clumps of resin into the fire. They popped and smoked with a sweet spicy smell. A soft singing filled the air. Georsi’s soul had left his body.
I wasn’t left to ponder this. King Gale slowly drew the Book of First Naming out from underneath his robes. “I told you to say goodbye, not paw through his clothes. Were you looking for this?”
Oberin and Shandon had instructed me to balance my fire with earth. I bit back my first words, and then my second. He watched me. His eyes were amber, his face well formed, with round cheeks and a strong chin.
“I said Engalad, and you came.”
“You haven’t answered my question.”
“Yes, I was looking for the Book. Georsi wanted to bring it to the Elders.” Then diplomacy deserted me. “You’re obviously not one, though. You’re Engalad.” My hand strayed back to the hilt of my sword.
“I’m King Gale of the Elder Race,” he said mildly.
The Elders had a matriarchal culture, ruled by a Queen. I hadn’t heard anything about a King.
“So where are they?” I shot back.
He gave me a smug smile. “Look around you.”
I gasped as the group of Elders stepped out from the shelter of the trees.
* * *
Regal, tall, and reed slender, their expressions were impossible to read. Green and hazel eyes regarded me with cool detachment. I guessed they were mostly women, but their chests were flat and their hips narrow. All had long hair, braided or cascading in a tangled, curly mass. Their skin, pale with a greenish cast, seemed to glow and sparkle in the twilight, and their faces were fair and proud.
I looked back at the King, dark-skinned and built like a fortress. Had they really accepted him as a ruler?
“You’re the Fire Elemental who helped me before, aren’t you?” I said.
“Who are you to interrogate me, daughter of man?”
I studied the man in front of me. I knew dark men lived south of the Islands of Vendrisi, but I’d never heard they were giants. He must be the half-breed who’d written the Book of First Naming. My stomach fluttered. At least his face wasn’t cruel, and he’d kept me safe from the flames.
“You called me Girl of Fire, so you know who I am. You asked me to come.”
“Your gray robe shows you to be a Mannite acolyte,” he said, voice cool. “The Mannites have lost favor here.”
The Elders remained quiet. I couldn’t tell if they even understood Trade.
“I hold a high position among them,” I said carefully. “I lead a small group on a mission of the utmost importance. Will the Elder Race receive us?”
“Do you swear to renounce the Book of First Naming as Georsi wished? It is our property.”
I chose not to answer. I drew myself up, tried to look brave. “You know of my quest? We seek to destroy the Demon’s snares.”
“Yes, I know. But you must set things right with the Elder Race. I’ll help you. Their Queen is my consort.”
The help of the Elder Race had to be more important than a weapon not honorably come by. “I hope we can find a way to work together. You have my promise I won’t take the Book back—without your consent.”
“Then bring your Mannites to us.”
CHAPTER 50
Oberin
The group followed Ilse and Berona on foot, leading the horses through the thick woods to the clearing where the bier lay. The King that Berona had spoken of was gone. Instead, seven members of the Elder Race, bearing shields of tightly interlaced willow twigs and moss, stood ready to meet the seven Mannites. Each one selected a traveler to approach. The one wearing the richest garments and a silver circlet set with stones on her brow came to Oberin.
“Welcome,” she said in Eldering. “I’m Princess Neyva.”
In the dusk, her eyes shone the color of the sour green limettes that came from Vendrisi. They seemed to gather in the last rays of light before the sun slipped behind the trees. He saw himself reflected in her eyes—lesser, a mere mortal.
Her inquisitive gaze pierced him. She was not unattractive. But she moved lightly, like a moth. He could not imagine holding such a creature in his arms. Where had that thought even come from? He loved Berona, though he could not have her.
He stated his name and spoke of his lineage and training, using halting Eldering. After he stopped, she looked at him courteously. He stayed quiet, waiting for guidance.
She switched to Trade. “I’m the daughter of Celedan, our Queen’s late husband. He perished in the Great War, impaled on the claws of a Metal Elemental, weeping with the sadness it used to weaken him.”
“My forebear fought in the Great War too,” Oberin said.
“Yes, I thought so. What was his or her name?”
He felt reticent. “He was on the Council. He was named Beloran.”
“It would be best not to mention that to King Gale.”
* * *
The Mannites followed their hosts past a fence of torches alternating
with thorny trees, which created a barrier that separated garden and dwelling from forest. They reached a neatly built stone and earthen building. The many windows had neither glass nor shutters.
After Hirschi and Kilgad corralled the horses and beater in a plush pasture, they turned onto a flagstone path bordered with purple-leaved regent weed and feathery mugwort. The house’s entrance faced east, toward the sunrise. The door was a wisp of sheer purple drapery that moved of its own accord to let them enter the airy hall. Inside, stone benches surrounded the slab of granite that served as a table. On that was set the largest candle Oberin had ever seen, already lit. The candleholder, a pillar of translucent feldspar that rimmed the flame, magnified the light.
There was a rustle of robes as a heavy, dark-skinned man swept into the room. He was several hands taller than Oberin. The crimson of his clothing set off his mahogany skin and his white teeth, which were exposed in a fierce grin. “I would have welcomed you myself, but I was readying your quarters. I may be King, but we employ no servants in this realm.”
The situation required no bowing and scraping. Oberin walked to meet him, head held high. “Our thanks for your hospitality. I am the Mannite Oberin and wear the Yellow Robe. I speak for everyone when I say we are delighted to renew our alliance.”
Suspicion flickered in Gale’s eyes. “Is that what we’re doing?”
“We would hope to prove worthy.” Oberin hesitated, wondering how to proceed with the prickly Elemental. “You seem like you appreciate plain speech, Sir.”
“You may speak your mind. Expect the same of me.”
“Our task is difficult, and we would benefit from your knowledge. We journey to destroy the Water Demon’s weapon, her soul snares.”
“My Queen and I would counsel you against that course. I serve as her representative, for your language is not known to her.”
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