I released Annel slowly. Though she growled, she did not move. “Help me up, Aerik. Am I nice and bloody back there?”
“Oh yes,” Aerik replied quietly.
Aerik got me to my feet, and I turned to face Ellsmid. In the dim lamplight, I hoped that the blood showed well against my pale coat.
At the Fort’s gates, I saw Eliawen and Lorandal. Their elf ears had heard the shot.
It was then that Ehledrath took her chance. “You fired on a citizen of the Empire who had drawn no blade against you. I am afraid I must place you under arrest for that.”
“You have no right,” Ellsmid said.
“I am Captain of the Guard.” I heard a snap of fingers, and a shuffling of feet. “I place you under arrest.”
“I dismiss you as Captain of the Guard.”
“You cannot do that,” my Father said. “Not while you are under investigation.”
“Helmed!” Ellsmid snapped, and the one who fired the rifle came forward. “Arrest them.”
Steel rang out, and I looked over my shoulder. Ehledrath had drawn her sword. “I would not do that, Helmed.”
“Get out of here,” Father said to me.
“I won’t leave you,” I said.
“Eliawen and Lorandal will help him,” Dalandaras said, and grabbed my arm. “Come, now.”
Father too drew his sword, and the two sides charged each other.
“Foulings,” I said as Dalandaras pulled me onward. “This is not your fight. Come to me.”
They came, and I let out breath I did not know I had been holding.
We ran down the main road, our feet crushing the frozen slush beneath us. Aerik slipped; Firien caught him, and we ran. The foulings flanked out ahead like a protection party. Soldiers and civilians alike came out of the darkness to see what was happening. But one snap of a fouling’s jaws was enough to scare them away from us. That as a relief too; I would not have them spill blood today. Not when these men were once my father’s.
The front gate was barred - the curfew. Several soldiers guarded it, at its base and high on the wall. The foulings halted ten feet from the men; the men held their pikes at the ready.
“Let us through!” I ordered.
“M’lady,” one of them said.
“Lower your weapons, and the foulings will not harm you.”
The man who spoke slowly did as I said, and Annel’s growling halted.
“I want no more blood shed this night. Let us through, and the foulings leave with us.”
“Help, help!” Tunir and Iasul came running down the road after us. “They’ve attacked Lord Baradan! Ellsmid tried to kill Lady Eva! She’s running for her life!”
“Let them out!” a man on the wall ordered. “Open the gates!”
The men hurried to comply.
“Run, m’lady,” Iasul said as he panted. “Pirridan is after you.”
“Thank you,” I murmured. As soon as the gates were parted enough for us to past through, we ran. Pirridan’s cries hurried after us.
We bolted for the rubble heap that had been Adhannor’s prison. My speed was inhuman; snow did not hinder me. The only thing that slowed me down was the thought of Dalandaras, and Aerik and Firien trailing behind me. But Dalandaras kept up, and Firien must have worked his magic on Aerik, for my aging sailor moved with a new agility.
I ha no worry for my foulings. They had taken care of themselves long before even Adhannor had arrived, and should anything happen to me they would find a way to exist.
The night was starless. The wind picked up. Soon, snow flurries danced between their legs. When the reached the rubble, they started to climb.
The foulings darted this way and that, the crumbled rocks a test of their agility. The snow hid the crevices and small ravines that littered the pile. We all fell; Aerik more than the rest of us.
The wind turned into a howl, and between its cries we heard the holler of Pirriden and his guards.
I hoped my father was still alive.
“Turn to the mountains proper,” I cried to the elves above the noise. “We must get out of all of this or we’ll be buried!”
We turned towards the lee side of the mountains. We were reduced to a crawl. My bare hands burned red as they dug into the snow, searching for a hold to pull me along farther.
It was Annel who nudged me along.
The snow gave way beneath me; I grasped at rock, and my legs dangled beneath me into some dark ravine. As I pulled myself up, Annel clutching my sleeve in her jaws, Dalandaras came to my aid. But I was free already. “Help Aerik!” I told him.
It seemed like an hour in the storm, when we finally came to a break in the mountain. We could climb no farther - it was too steep - but the crevices between the rocks were large enough to take shelter. We crawled in to the darkness. Annel and her pack crowded the entrance and faced into the storm. They blocked what whip of the wind came around the leeway.
“Sit down now,” Firien murmured to Aerik, who wedged himself against the back of the crevice. There was just room enough for us to sit, not enough to lay.
“Are you all okay?” I asked.
Aerik puffed, his breathing ragged and his face red, but he nodded all the same. Firien cast off his cloak and pulled it tight around his love.
“You are ice,” Dalandaras said, taking my hands in his.
I shook my head. “They are stiff, but I do not suffer.”
“Let me look at your back,” he murmured, and stripped off my coat. He tore at my tunic and undershirt, the fabric ripping easily. “It has stemmed itself. I would say to bind your arm to hold the wound steady, but we both know that will not happen.”
He cleaned it with strips of cloth and snow he melted between his hands. My back was numb now. It was just as well - it would heal quick enough, with the old magic in me.
“Do we have a plan?” Firien asked.
My father… “Ellsmid would have access to the blood magic,” I said. “If she can maintain control of the Fort, I have no doubt she will pursue it. If Father is not dead, she will get the information she needs from him, if Crowndan or Zarah have not left some hint in their possessions.”
“She will not harm your father,” Aerik said.
“It is unlikely,” Dalandaras agreed. “Eliawen and Lorandal will vouchsafe for him, and the Queen would not take kindly to any harm done to him. The Queen may want to control Tal Aesiri, but she will not take kindly to the Empire daring to harm her emissaries or any we consider friends.”
“I want to trust in that,” I murmured. “But I do not think the Queen will like what I have in mind. I would pull the blood altars down and turn them into rubble, as Adhannor turned his prison to rubble. I think I can do it.”
“You are strong, Eva,” Dalandaras said quietly. “But I do not know if you are strong enough. You may not be strong enough to live through it.”
“That is my concern.”
“It is mine as well,” he replied, a hint of steel in his tone.
I turned to him, and touched his face. It was close to black inside the crevice, but I could see clearly. The markings on his face, so nearly indistinguishable in daylight, were clear. He had been tattooed with the elvish script; it was half blessing, half command, almost a spell to give the bearer of the tattoo strength, and silence, and loyalty, and hope. “I know it is yours as well. When we were in Tal Uil you said you would follow me to whatever end I asked of you.”
“I never said I wouldn’t object.”
I smiled. “We need to rest now. When the storm is over, and daylight comes, we will see what the easiest path is.”
The storm raged for a full day, and half of another night. Dhreo, my disreputable pirate fouling, brought us two hares that had sheltered too close to our camp. We made a small fire after debating the merits of one, but doubted Pirriden’s men had made it far enough to see any flame. Dalandaras forced me to eat, and with the smell of roasting meat I found myself famished. Firien showcased another talent, and fashioned the
rabbit fur into warmer gloves for Aerik.
When dawn was breaking, just after the snow cleared, the foulings had to dig us out.
“Would your grandfather’s outpost be occupied?” I asked Dalandaras.
“I doubt it,” he replied.
I cursed the sun as it came over the horizon, and the fresh powder on the slopes of the mountains. We had fled without skis or snowshoes - the fresh powder would only be a hindrance to us.
“We go north, then,” I said, the fouling pack circling around us. “Aerik, are you ready?”
“I’m fine, lass,” he replied gruffly. “Don’t worry about me.”
I had reason to be, but I couldn’t tell him that. He had come down with frostbite in his fingers and ears, and it was only Firien’s quick thinking that had restored them to health.
I had to lose Aerik, I thought, and cursed myself for the thought. How could I think of abandoning my best friend? But I had abandoned my father with what had been relative ease. It was the old magic that coursed through me now. It was making me behave as I should not. Taking Dalandaras to bed under the Queen’s nose, abandoning Father, thinking of abandoning Aerik at the earliest opportunity. Aye, it was the old magic. The old magic and its need to protect Tal Aesiri and the creatures that resided there.
We made our slow, cautious way through the mountains and the snow, Dalandaras or Firien scouting ahead for any resting place, the foulings catching our food. Sometimes they came back empty-jawed. They could last when their bellies were empty, but Aerik and even the elves could not. I was certain that I could not, either, but I was finding myself strangely hungry.
It took a week to clear the Fort and the patrols and the powder from the storm, until we found clear, flat rocks we could maintain a good pace on. We came to the valley where we had camped on our first visit to Dalandaras’ grandfather’s outpost, and I had spoken to my dead mother. I wished she was still with me. But she was bound at Tal Aesiri now.
As dusk at the end of the week approached, we cleared the boundary into the basin. From here, we could see the sea far to our west and left, and Tal Uil beyond on the coast. The dead city was below us, still empty and haunted, the snow still dancing between its hollow buildings. And far at the end of the dead city where it abutted the mountains again, I could feel the first of the blood altars.
Aerik was not in good shape. Even with Firien’s elven magic, the journey had taken its toll. “Take him to the outpost,” I murmured to Firien. “I would go to the altar.”
“Can it wait until morning?” Dalandaras asked.
It probably could, but the old magic did not want to delay. The plan had formed in my mind; the old magic wanted to get on with it. “I will do nothing tonight,” I promised. “But I want to…reacquaint myself with it. I want to see how I can destroy it. Go with them.”
“I will follow you,” he replied.
Aerik made no protest, which only alarmed me further. For his own sake, if not my own speed, he would not be able to follow me farther.
I headed down the slope, towards the frozen beach, and then through the dead town. I had chased Crowndan through here, before I had confirmed that he was a traitor. But our footprints had long been swept away. It had been a few months now, I realized. The age and depth of the old magic was causing me to forget time.
It was well and truly night when I reached the doorless way and its dark steps downward.
“I will wait for you,” Dalandaras murmured. The foulings disappeared into the dead city. They would hunt again.
I went down into the earth, following the steps, and then the long, dark hallway. I needed to torch or taper to light my way. I saw it all with clarity.
And then I came to the great domed room, with its dozen stone altars. The ash of the bodies remained here; it stank of smoke and long-burned away flesh. The spirits of the dead miners had once haunted here, their bodies kept barely alive by Adhannor. I had been scared of them when I saw them, but would have liked their company now.
How would I bring down this place? I circled the great room, my fingers skimming the stone walls. They had been hewn so smooth, and so carefully. The perfect dome kept the weight of the mountain from crumbling down. I could fracture the dome then. But then I would have to be down here to do it.
That wasn’t going to be my first plan.
Perhaps I could do it up above-ground, and drag down the whole mountain. But what guarantee would I have that this room would be brought down with it, unless I saw it for myself? If I could even draw the strength to bring it all down. My attempt to frighten Ellsmid had been child’s play for the old magic, but I could not afford to sacrifice my life here. Not when I still had Tal Anor and Tal Aesiri to worry about.
Mother may be bound to Tal Aesiri. But our ancestress Adhanel was not.
I took a breath, and reached into the well within me, the well of my own blood, to search for that strand of inheritance that ran back to one elf.
“You called, granddaughter?” Adhanel asked.
In the middle of the altars stood Adhanel, her ghostly form white and near translucent. But now that I had reached for her, the room spun around me, and my blood seemed to rush from my face, and I fell to the floor.
When I could open my eyes again, ghostly Adhanel stood over me. “Trying to reach me when not at a font of old magic is a dangerous business.”
I tried to sit up, but my head wanted to stay on the ground. The stone was cool down there. “Is this not a font of old magic?” I managed to ask.
“Corrupted by blood magic, yes. I had thought my granddaughter was smarter than this.”
“I’ve had no one to teach me.”
“That is true enough. Breathe, Evalandriel, and then we will talk.”
I did as she commanded. But breathing was the easy part. Sitting upright was harder. But I managed it, and Adhanel knelt in front of me. “It would have been better if you had traveled back to Tal Aesiri, or even Tal Anor, in order to talk with me.”
“I did did not have that time,” I replied. “I must destroy the blood altars.”
“Well,” she said, and spoke no more.
I grasped the side of an altar, and pulled myself up. Adhanel had left me, and now circled the room. “It has been many years since I have seen this place.”
“Are you telling me that a spirit’s memory may fade?” I asked.
“Only that I need to call it up again. Oh, I remember this place. Too well. And you wish to bring it down?”
“I must,” I said. “My battle with Adhannor made too much noise, and now there are others who could desire to use blood magic to take control of the old magic. I must prevent that.”
“Of course,” Adhanel murmured. “Selfish desires do not change, do they? Thousands of years have passed, and yet the motivations, the need for power, is still the same.”
“And I must bring this down.”
“And my crypt at Tal Anor,” she nodded. “Yes, you must.”
“How do I do it?”
“My love,” she came to me then, and cupped my face, and I almost felt her fingers against my chin. “My love, this was built by blood magic. It must be brought down by blood magic. Look at it. Truly look at this place, and you will see what you must do.”
I looked, and searched for what I had missed the first time I had been down here. I circled the altars, searched for some old writing. What was I missing?
And then I saw them. The circles etched into the floor. They had not been visible last time, when I had relied on flame to show my way. But now I used the sight I had in darkness, and drew upon the old magic. There wards in the floor, etched with words of power in the old tongue, and etched with old magic. The altars had been placed over them, almost haphazardly, as if they were unrelated to the wards in the floor.
I searched for an unbroken seal, and found it in the very center. The seal was more than merely etched here; its two lines were grooved into the stone. A groove ran straight through the center of the seal. It was
large enough to lay a person in it.
I had seen the grooves before, in the magic used at Adhannor’s prison. My blood had poured into them, unsealing the ward that had held Adhannor underneath the mountain. But I hadn’t died, and so my blood only did half the job. It didn’t return Adhannor to full strength, and so he had pursued me.
If I wanted to destroy this place, I would have to use blood magic. And it would have to be a complete sacrifice.
I turned to Adhanel, and she nodded. “You have it now, I think.”
“This place asks too much of me,” I whispered.
“Yes it does,” Adhanel said. “It is a heavy price. But you will find a way.”
I shook my head. “Do not ask this of me.”
“I do not. The old magic does. Adhannor does.”
Adhannor was haunting me still. I would I had found a way to spare Zarah or Crowndan, if I knew this place would come upon me.
“Go back to Tal Aesiri,” Adhanel said. “When you are done.”
I left her to fade away, and found my way back to the long hallway. My feet were heavy as I made my way up the stairs. There was a faint light from above. Was is day already? And how long into day? Had Dalandaras been at his watch for the entire time?
I had to kill someone.
I was going to become Adhannor in the end, wasn’t I? I thought I was better than him. But in the end, I was going to become him.
I heard a growl, then another. Then Dalandaras’ low voice.
I sprinted the last steps into the daylight.
“Do not attack,” Dalandaras was saying in elvish. “Evalandriel would not wish it.”
I crested a small snow bank. Dalandaras was in a clearing. My foulings surrounded him, on guard and ready to lunge. An elven warrior, cloaked in white and silver, held a sword to his neck.
CHAPTER FIVE
There were maybe ten warriors outside of the protective circle the foulings had made around Dalandaras. I would rather have faced Firien’s warriors - I understood the ferocity that had those like Nogoriel their scars. But these were clad in chainmail and shining armor. These were the Queen’s own soldiers.
“Evalandriel,” one of them said, though a growling fouling kept him from moving. “The Queen wishes to have your company again.”
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