I looked at Oberin accusingly. “I thought you proofed Hirschi’s mind.”
“I can’t proof things I don’t know about. Ilse and I could only confirm what he told us.”
“What did the letter say?” I asked Hirschi.
“He was coming to the Western Wilderness to meet with an Ally. He must have meant King Gale. I can’t remember the rest of it.”
I groaned. I was about to ask Oberin if he could extract more details. Then I noted the tension on Neyva’s face. “We can’t tarry,” she said.
* * *
Scarcely enough time to eat and rest around noon before we were in motion again. Neyva had described the consequences for us if we were caught. The Elders did not believe in killing, so they would entomb us alive in their sacred crypts, where we would die of hunger and thirst.
When Moab looked stricken, Neyva explained that Rheyna was in no danger. She had not known of the theft, and the Elders would treat her as an honored guest, because she was a healer.
And not just that: a healer expecting a child. Neyva’s voice was grave as she explained it. The Elders hadn’t seen an infant for a long time. It would be a time of great celebration, even though it wasn’t theirs.
I thought back to our brief meeting. We had seen seven, and they looked all like women. Where were their men?
Then I realized the trees were thinning. We’d reached the edge of the forest.
* * *
In the afternoon we halted under a large oak tree, sheltering against a chill wind that promised snow. It rippled through the tall prairie grasses, playing tricks on my eyes. Were we being followed?
I forced myself to climb the oak, despite my aching legs. It didn’t take long to spot them. I clambered down and made my report. “The Elders are coming. They’re a ways off. Ten of them, carrying bows.”
“There are twelve in the royal guard. Phylaen and Elia turned back then, out of loyalty. The others will shoot without hesitation. Their darts are tipped with a paralytic.”
“Let’s move,” I said, fatigue forgotten. I caught the bag that Moab threw. Hirschi scrambled to get the other bag loaded on my beater. Ilse wordlessly tied our blankets up.
The Elders were a few leagues behind, and though on foot, they moved fast. We urged our mounts to a trot, hoping to create some distance between ourselves and our pursuers. Hirschi and I rode in front. Oberin and Neyva brought up the rear. Neyva had stayed close to him all day. Perhaps she didn’t like me.
I wondered again why she was helping us.
* * *
The morning dawned bright and sunny. The sky glowed azure above the peaks. Ahead, dun grasslands straggled to the foothills. We turned left, heading directly to the gap which would let us cross the Ash Mountains. We would reach it by noon.
A few small streams fed the area. The nodding grass was tall, studded with the seed heads of sheep’s garb and blanket flowers. Piles of rocks and thickets of bushes promised hiding places for both pursuer and pursued. Shadows shifted fluidly under the bright winter sun, flickering. I was jumpy, and not just because we would reach the Forest of Bones and the soul snares within the next two days. There was an immediate dissonance. The colors were almost too bright, the sounds too loud. I felt skinned, exposed.
It wasn’t the feeling I’d had around the Elders. There I’d just felt like an ignorant clod—at least until they started hunting me. I stopped. Oberin doubled back and pulled up next to me, giving me a questioning look.
“Something’s wrong. Everything’s so intense.” I looked at my arms; the down was erect.
Hirschi scanned the landscape. “We need to take a stand.”
I was confused. “Against who?”
It was Neyva who answered. “You can feel it yourself. The forces of nature unleashed. Elementals—a mixed group, judging by their energies.”
* * *
Hirschi and I chose the site, a rocky hill. Kilgad staked our horses and the beater while Moab and Oberin checked that everyone had their specialized weapons.
When Ilse grabbed her bag and pulled out the Book, Neyva said, “I’ll call out the names. I’m Elder Race, too close in lineage to the Elementals to want to fight them.”
The Elder Race fought the Elementals in the Great War. What changed? I looked to Oberin, but he shrugged. “She’s got her bow in case we need it, but someone has to read through the names. As an Elder, she’s the logical choice.”
He’d been cool to me since our kiss. I reminded myself that Kea was the one I truly loved. It had only been a moment of weakness.
I looked over our company, speaking my thoughts out loud. “Ilse and I will combat any Metal Elementals. Let’s make a small fire in case we need to light the torches.” Ilse and Kilgad rushed to lay some twigs together while Moab worked with the flint and tinder.
“Good. We all have swords, except for Neyva, who can’t touch iron. Any Wood Elementals coming her way, we’ll have to jump in to protect her. Moab and Oberin, you have sand bags ready for any Waters?” They nodded.
“Kilgad, check that you can reach your water bag behind that war hammer.” As he groped for it, I turned to Neyva. “Moab is good with the bow, but if there are several Earth Elementals, we’ll need you to step in as well.”
She narrowed her eyes at me but did not speak.
Oberin turned to her then. “Will you protect us?”
Something passed between them as they looked at each other. It wasn’t friendship—more like mutual recognition and respect. “I’ll help you,” she said, and strung her bow. Now that she held it out, I noted that it was larger but appeared lighter than any I’d seen before. It had to be made of a special wood.
Now we were ready. Where was our foe? There was the clattering and stomping of large creatures, but nothing came into view behind the rugged crowns of hills. Then I heard scuffling and spotted a plume of dust. The Elementals were grayish, hard to see, but the motion caught my eye.
Once I spotted the first, more became visible. They weren’t heading toward us. I glanced at Oberin and saw the answer in his face. He’d erected a shielding spell while I’d performed the muster. They probably couldn’t see us.
The Elementals’ speed suggested aggression. If they weren’t hunting us, what were they after?
* * *
Neyva turned and raced in their direction, leaving the stag-like animal tethered. Oberin caught up with her and took her arm; she threw him off. It did slow her down long enough for me to reach her and grab the other arm. She hissed, baring her teeth.
“They need me.”
I didn’t need to ask who she meant. We were shielded, but the Elder guard who tracked us weren’t.
“Those guards were going to take us back to starve in the crypt,” I pointed out. I could have saved my breath.
“My kin will die. They don’t have the Book. How will they know…?”
Oberin stood tall and his eyes blazed. “Stop, Neyva. Listen to me.”
She hung in his grip like a ragdoll, anguish distorting her features.
“Will the guard fire those arrows at us if we come to their aid?” Oberin asked.
“No.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“They will be fighting for their lives. It will be my fault. I must…” She tried to struggle loose again. A scream of anguish cut through the air. It was higher than a mortal voice. The other Mannites caught up with us. Everyone talked at once.
“What’s going on?”
“What was that?”
“Are we still shielded?”
In the confusion, Neyva broke free again. We needed her knowledge and her support. “We’re going to fight at their side,” I announced, having decided. The Elders wouldn’t turn on us if we’d just saved their lives.
Neyva sped ahead, long legs outdistancing us. I forced myself to move faster. Just a little more to go. We turned past a rock formation into an open space.
I doubled over, retching, as Neyva screamed.
* * *
It must have happened fast.
Five bodies lay still, faces darkened with rage or drawn with grief. Neyva bent over a sixth Elder flailing on the ground. The rest of the guard must have taken flight, the Elementals in pursuit.
Spent arrows littered the grounds. A pack lay open, the flint and torches scattered. An obsidian sword, their replacement for steel, was flung on the ground.
From the expressions on the faces of the dead, they’d been attacked by Wood and Metal. They would have needed weapons made of metal and fire. Shooting arrows into the Woods had only made them stronger.
There was one Elemental nearby, shrinking as I watched. The gray hide had given way to a soft jelly-like body. It gleamed opalescent around the curling edges, and its middle was soft and fluid. Yet there was something terrifying about its dissolution. I felt the horror in the marrow of my bones, a plangent ache.
The other Elementals were gone.
The fleeing Elders were light and quick, the Elementals heavy though strong. Soon they’d give up the chase—and come back for us.
“Put up the shield to hide us,” I told Oberin.
“I can’t sustain it long. Let me save my power for augmenting our weapons of water and fire. We’re not sure how many Elementals there are.”
With a heavy heart, I joined the somber group around the dead and dying. The survivor looked terrified. Her eyes stared out of a pale face. I saw a bag of sand spilled nearby. A Water Elemental must have attacked her. Perhaps it was the one dying. Neyva made a pillow of her cloak and tucked it under her.
“They’ll be back soon. Get ready,” Hirschi cautioned.
Neyva wouldn’t look at us. “Leave me.”
“Give me the Book,” Oberin said. “I’ll read the names when they come.” Neyva handed it over mutely. We would have one less fighter now.
“Neyva, please?” I began, but Oberin shook his head at me. “She has done enough,” he murmured.
Hirschi chose the most secure place for us to stand, fanning out with the rock wall behind us. It meant we couldn’t flee, but it provided us with security at our back.
I had only taken two deep breaths when the Elementals returned, thundering toward us.
* * *
There were ten, way too many. My breath caught. Clay-colored, with glowing deep-set dark eyes, they moved with lithe grace despite their size.
We held our position. Oberin read. “Hegi, Ulin, Bastrot, Beseheth…”
One of our attackers was revealed as Beseheth. His thin twisted arms had furrows of dark bark. His eyes shone a cold green light. A sour wind roared from the gash of his mouth.
We all had swords, and mine was magic. I’d take him down.
As I trained my sights on Beseheth, Ilse yelled to Oberin, “Try metal names.”
“Finestras, Colun, Mephist, Ziggaret.”
An Elemental lengthened and thinned in response, revealing metal resonance. Ziggaret’s gray hide was scaly and gleamed with crystalline knobs. We needed fire. Hirschi grabbed my torch as soon as I lit it. He ran, vaulted up, and swept the lit torch down. Ziggaret wailed like breaking glass. Tears sprang to my eyes. His wounding was unbearably sad.
“Ziggaret spells us,” Oberin warned. I came to my senses. Our attackers were among us.
I headed toward Beseheth again, intent on engaging him, but when Oberin said the name Konyemba, a Metal materialized next to Ilse.
Ilse stood frozen, gazing at it, tears running down her face. I grabbed her torch and attacked. I dropped down at the last moment to avoid the slice of his razor-sharp claws and rammed the torch up. My knees burned as I slid. I fell hard, hurting my hand.
Oberin screamed my name.
I glanced around to find Beseheth bending over me. Too tall to stab his heart. My blade punched into his belly. He fell to the side. Ichor spewed out of his mouth, barely missing me.
I staggered up. Next to Ilse, Ziggaret was melting. Directly in front of me was a new assailant.
Oberin’s chanting reached me from far away, but I didn’t know what I faced.
I danced back out of the reach of its claws. It pressed closer. Closer.
Until a body flashed between us, whirled, and kicked out in one smooth motion. I heard the crack of the thing’s knee.
Hirschi struck again, sweeping his arms into its groin. It groaned and went down as a rock struck it. Hirschi grinned before turning to face another one.
I smelled scorched flesh. Neyva cowered in front of an Elemental revealed as a pillar of dancing flame. Her body protected the fallen Elder.
Kilgad stood nearby, water bag empty, a puddle glistening on the rock. He’d missed. I changed course, scrambling to the top of the rocks, hurt hands stinging.
Flame outlined Neyva’s pale fingers. Yet her magic kept it away.
I jumped down into the puddle, grunting as I hit the stone. Water sprayed. Oberin chanted a spell of binding, and the droplets coated the living pillar of fire, eating into the flickering light.
I pulled the creature toward me, yelping as its heat hit. We rolled into the puddle. The sheen of water spread across it like a silver skin, and the hissing flame wavered. Ashes filled my nose. I laughed. I laughed till my sides hurt. My eyes shut from laughter. My heart beat in a lunatic tempo and my face felt on fire as my braying grew wilder and louder.
A slap jolted me, and then cold water hit my face, dissolving the spell of mania. I focused on Ilse’s stricken face.
“Moab’s dying,” she snapped. “Do something.”
CHAPTER 52
Berona
I whirled, ready to strike another foe with my sword, only to find the battle ground deserted. Then my breath caught in my throat, and my stomach lurched. Moab!
Only his shoulders, one hand, and his head remained free. The ground surrounding him was smooth and sandy, rippling as he struggled. Oberin stood at the edge of the quicksand, leaning over as far as he dared, trying to reach Moab’s questing hand.
“We need rope,” I shouted. “Hirschi!” Then I caught sight of him. He was bent over a smoldering pile of fabric—no, I smelled the scorched flesh now!
“Where’s Kilgad?” I screamed.
“Too late for him,” Ilse snapped.
Moab’s eyes were rolling up, and he gasped in panic. “Bring me rope,” I cried.
“The beater bolted with the packs. I’ll find it later.”
We ran over to Oberin, and I pushed in front, toe balanced precariously on the edge of the sucking sand. Moab had stopped struggling, but he was going down fast. The quicksand had reached his neck.
“I’m lighter,” I said. “Oberin, you can hold me, and I’ll step out.”
“I’m sorry. No.”
“But Moab will die,” I said wildly.
“I can’t risk you.”
“Call the Fire Elemental,” Ilse pleaded.
“I can’t…now. The Elders will punish us.”
Ilse put her hands over her mouth, stifling a scream, eyes wild with horror.
“Where’s the damned Princess?” I snapped. Hirschi joined me, the trickle of a tear on his gaunt face. He pushed out a long branch to Moab.
“I found this. Can you grab it?”
As Moab reached out, face distorted with terror, the sand swirled and pulled him further away from us.
“No,” I cried. “You can’t die. Just take the branch. Take it.”
The sand closed over his chin as I sobbed, “Take it. Take the branch.” His hand vanished, leaving just his fingers, frantically waving.
“No, Moab!” Ilse choked out.
The sand was lapping over his lips as he said his last words. “Look after Rheyna and the baby.” Then there were only his staring eyes, round with fear, and in another few heartbeats, that was gone too.
As if he’d never been. There was not even a body to bury.
“We were holding our own. What happened?” I demanded.
Ilse answered. “He threw the sand. But when it hit the Elemental, it didn’t h
urt it. Instead, the sand spread all around them, and turned into this.” She gestured at the slurry of earth.
Oberin looked stricken. “Moab didn’t know it was an Earth Elemental. I didn’t have time to read all the names.”
I looked over again at Kilgad’s blackened body, barely recognizable. That must have been what the Intercessor looked like.
The guilt and sadness hit me like a blow. We had abandoned Rheyna, and now we had allowed Moab to drown in quicksand. And Kilgad had died by fire. I sat down heavily.
How could this have happened? We had been warned about the dangers of the quest, but those had just been words. Seeing my friends die: that was reality. We’d been lucky the first time, in the woods, when we’d wounded one Elemental and killed a second one.
A sweet sickly scent drifted through the air. I recognized it from the time at the farm, when the Mannite died. That must have been an Earth Elemental too, as Georsi claimed.
* * *
We should have worried about our attackers returning, but instead we all sat numbly.
Hirschi swallowed. “Let’s find the horses and move. They could come back.”
“We just killed Beseheth and Ziggaret and wounded more,” Oberin said. “Perhaps we frightened them off.”
I caught sight of Neyva next to the Elder. She was closing the woman’s eyes. She had died too. Neyva walked over to us, looking defeated.
Oberin said, “Do you have the Book safe, Neyva?”
Her expression changed to shock. “No. What?”
“When Berona jumped into the puddle, I had to say the spell to augment the water. I called out for you to take it.”
Her expression darkened. “I didn’t hear you.”
We all stared at one another. “But that’s why we fled the safety of the Elder refuge,” Ilse wailed. “What can we trade now that it’s gone?”
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