Milea’s expression was ecstatic, as if she were feeling great pleasure. Slowly, she pulled her arms in and hugged herself. Her eyes shot open but her expression went blank. The pulse was hammering into her, and some of the elves realized, as she had, that what they’d just summoned wasn’t what they had intended.
The clean, ozonic smell grew hot and sulfurous, and as the emerald glow darkened to crimson, the smell of the air turned to brimstone.
Milea heaved, clutching at her swollen belly. For a moment it looked as if she would collapse. Then she stood and strode quickly away, shouldering herself out of the circle. When she separated the hands of the elves she passed between, the spell was broken. The ground inside the circumference was smoldering and rank. The elves were gasping in dismay, all of them pale and sickened.
“What have we done?” one of them asked.
“Lord Revan,” another started, with terrified amber eyes. “This is not the will of the Arbor Heart.”
“The Willowbrow boy was right,” another one added, backing away from them. “This is blasphemy.”
Lord Revan stood trembling from both rage and fear alike. It had not been the Heart of Arbor they had summoned, and that angered him. For thousands of years his family had served the forest. They were owed a reward for that service. What terrified him, though, was that he felt something happen inside the girl, something unwholesome. The Arbor Heart, in his mind, had betrayed him.
The gathering disbanded, all of them feeling ill and deeply concerned with what they had just done. Revan went straight to the dwellings of his people and ordered the sentinels who served his bloodline to hunt down Dieter Willowbrow, Varial Teak, and Matern Redwood. He was certain, and he made his point to several of the elves in the circle, that those three elves had somehow conspired to taint their spell. He convinced enough of them, and then swore that he wouldn’t rest until they paid for their treachery with their lives.
***
In Westland, the feast was just getting underway. In the huge, torchlit gathering hall, the High King and Queen Rosa welcomed their guests to the tables in full regal splendor. Though the lords and nobles of Westland would feast before a roaring fire in the great hall, even the common folk were enjoying the hospitality of the High King’s plentitude. All the lesser halls, and even some of the more open courtyards, were open for all who wished to fill a plate or draw a mug or two of watered ale.
Lines of people from Castleview City formed and led out beyond the North Road gate. There was plenty of fare. Lady Able, who’d suffered the Zard occupation with them, made sure that no one would be without. Fifty fat pigs had been roasted for the affair. Two cows, an elk, and more chickens than they could count had been prepared. Outside the castle there wasn’t much in the way of vegetables or bread, but there was meat and ale aplenty.
When Queen Rosa asked Lady Able what would happen to the food left over, she was answered with a smile. “What the orphanages don’t get will go to fatten the pigs for the upcoming Yule feast.” Lady Able thought she was clever for not being wasteful. Even now, as the feasters took their seats in the Great Hall, she was clucking about it to the noble ladies around her.
The king’s long table was loaded with bread, vegetables, and the side of a bull elk that might have weighed as much as three men. Baked swan, glazed pigs, and steaming bowls of cabbage and stewed carrots filled the places in between. There were silver trays covered with iced pastries, candied yams, cookies, pies and cakes, as well.
The end of the royal table was wide, and both the king and queen sat there side by side. Sitting in the first seat on the king’s right was Master Wizard Sholt, then Lord Spyra, King Jarrek, and the captain of the castle guard. On Rosa’s left was Lady Lavona, the queen’s newest friend and confidant. Next was Lady Able, who had been determined to sit across from Lord Spyra, even though she had to crane her neck up and and around the ribcage of the roasted elk to see him.
The dwarves had a table of their own; they were all drinking merrily and getting their fill. The mood was wonderfully carefree, and it seemed as if the wounds of the past few years were finally healing over.
Queen Rosa stood and whistled like a salty deck girl. As the people hushed to hear her words, she whistled again, enjoying the looks she was getting for doing so. The royal herald caught on and began banging his staff on the stone floor. The dwarves thought it was the beginning of a song and began banging their goblets and silverware on the table in time. Mikahl and Jarrek thought this was hilarious, and after a bit of shouting and shushing, it grew quiet enough that the crackle and pop of the roaring fire could be heard.
“The queen wishes to speak,” the herald called out. “Silence for the words of our wonderful hostess.”
Suddenly, Rosa was speechless and flustered. A silly grin of delight spread across her face. Amazingly, she could hear the roar of the flames themselves. She had never been as happy. All eyes were on her now, especially Mikahl’s. She smiled radiantly. Her skin was peachy and her eyes twinkled brightly. She finally started to speak, but the loud pop of a smoldering knot in the hearth made her jump and giggle. Everyone in the room was smiling. She put her left hand over her mouth to hide her embarrassment and reached her other hand for Mikahl. He took it and let her guide him to his feet beside her.
“Are you drunk, my love?” he asked in a whisper.
Both Lady Able and Lady Lavona heard this and erupted in a peal of excited giggling.
Queen Rosa squeezed Mikahl’s hand and finally found the courage to speak.
Mikahl heard her words, but she had spoken them so quickly that he was left reeling in confusion.
“I’m with child.” Queen Rosa said proudly. “Westland, our king will have an heir.”
As the words slowly sank in, the crowd cheered. Mikahl’s head swam with worry and elation alike. He couldn’t imagine being a father yet, but he also couldn’t wait. The rest of his night went by in a blur of congratulations and windy toasts. The news eventually made its way out to the common folk on the castle grounds, and on to Castleview City.
Later, Master Sholt received a sending from Phen. The wizard took the news of Master Oarly’s death hard. He didn’t allow the information to ruin the night, though. The king and queen hadn’t been that close to the wily dwarf, but he, Lord Spyra, King Jarrek, and most of the dwarves had fought wars with him. Long after the feasters were settled, while the remains were being cleared, he wheeled out a small keg of Harthgarian whiska. He filled their cups with the potent, fiery liquid and then told them how Master Oarly gave his life to save Marble Boy and Hyden Hawk for the good of the realm. None of them slept that night, and by the time the sun came up they had drunk themselves sober.
***
Just after Phen made the sending to Master Sholt, Princess Telgra entered his room. She didn’t knock. She shut the door behind her and bolted it. She was wearing the sheerest of gowns, and seemed determined to win her way through Phen’s grim mood.
The sight of her nearly naked body in the candlelight caught Phen’s attention, but it didn’t stop the tears he was crying for his old grumpy friend. Breaking the news to Master Sholt had been one of the hardest things he had ever done. Telgra stepped up to him and pulled his head against her breast. She shushed him softly. Eventually, her soft kisses, and the feel of her fingers gliding through his hair, quelled his sorrow.
When she kissed him, a spark flared. Passion replaced his misery. They kissed hungrily. Into an already potent flame of love erupted a blazing bonfire.
Sweaty and alive with contradicting emotions, she pulled away and whispered to him. “My people will be here on the morrow. Though you will be traveling with Dostin and me, there will not be much time for us to be alone together.”
“Will you tell your people how you feel about me?”
“Only after I confer with my Queen Mother,” she answered honestly.
He would have protested, but her hand slipped into his britches and gripped him tightly.
Phen
’s words died into the kiss that followed. Soon she peeled away her gown, revealing her perfect apple-sized breasts. She took her time undressing him, then climbed up onto him. Their passion overtook him so quickly that he almost felt shame, but she took her time, and they ended up making love throughout the night.
There was no way for anyone to know such a thing, but the casting made by the elven circle did summon the Arbor Heart. Altered by dragon magic and the water of the Leif Repline fountain, Phen was now something more than human. The Arbor Heart, awakened by the meddling old elves, decided that not only would Princess Telgra follow her mother as leader of the race of elves, but her child would lead them after that. A child that was as much human as it was elf.
Phen’s child.
Chapter 47
The tunnel seemed like any other rocky cave at first, but after a half hour of traversing it, it became something else altogether: a Shoovway. The dizzying sensation of spinning and spiraling made it hard to walk. The great wolves, who were padding along beside the group, grew timid. More than one whine of worry escaped them. Talon didn’t fly. The hawkling rode on Huffa’s back, gripping her fur and flapping his wings for balance every so often.
“The sensation will pass,” Durge said, but the unease in his own voice was unmistakable.
Hyden’s magical orb light stayed a constant above his head, and Corva showed Jicks how to keep it in his field of vision so that the powerful feeling of vertigo didn’t make him stumble and fall. For a short time, even that didn’t help. The very walls around them, and the roughly-hewn ceiling and floor, seemed to become misty. It was like the surface of a tubular lake reflecting a storm racing past them. Then, all of a sudden, they were standing in an ordinary cave again.
The first thing they noticed was that the air was considerably warmer, but it was still cold by any standards. When they finally saw daylight ahead of them, they were more than relieved. Talon went flying out of the opening to explore, and Hyden sought out the hawkling’s vision. As soon as he saw the world beyond the cave, he knew they were no longer in the Giant Mountains, yet it was still late morning.
As Talon soared, Hyden saw in his mind’s eye an expanse of tree-littered plains. The morning frost was still reflecting from the leaf-strewn grass as if it were all covered in a sparkling pastry glaze. Hyden also noticed that the leafless trees seemed wrong somehow. They were tall and thick, yet the branches were gnarled and twisted. They reminded Hyden of the dying tree he’d sat under while trying to pass Dahg Mahn’s trials. He sensed the presence of what they were after, though. It wasn’t very far; either that, or its power reached farther than Hyden could imagine. The Tokamac Verge lay to the east of them, or was it west now? Hyden wasn’t sure where north was at the moment. If north was now south, as everyone said it would be, then east was now west. He shook his head and chuckled. It didn’t matter. With the great wolves carrying them, they would be able to follow their own scent trail back to the Shoovway’s entrance.
Talon circled back toward the cavern they were in. It opened a few dozen feet above the plain in a large granite formation that seemed to have just pushed up out of the otherwise flat expanse of land. Getting down would be easy enough. Through Talon’s eyes, he could make out plenty of hand and toe holds. For him, it would be like climbing down a stairway.
He urged Talon to circle higher and take in what lay in the direction he sensed the artifact.
“Before we exit, let’s eat a hearty meal,” Hyden suggested. “It will allow Talon and me enough time to explore our course and search out dangers.”
Durge and two of the great wolves had eased up to the cavern mouth and were looking out at the strange, malformed trees that dotted the landscape. Huffa stuck her head out into the sun and sniffed tentatively.
“This might be the last true shelter we see for a while,” Durge said. “Since we are not heading back into the mountains until our return, I think we should cache some of our cold weather gear here.”
“That’ll lighten our load,” Hyden said. “From what Talon can see, the terrain isn’t going to change much, if at all.”
Corva and Jicks took a peek out.
“If we continue to wear these shagmar cloaks, we’ll look like hairy creatures, not civilized folk,” said Corva. “That could work both for us or against us, depending on what we come across.”
“The people from here my father traded with were dark-skinned men with crude animal-hide cloaks, and wild, bushy hair that was dyed blue, green, and red.” Hyden told them. “We will remain cautious, but I don’t think they will be a threat.”
Corva nodded and began removing things from the pack he deemed no longer necessary. Jicks did the same, while Hyden focused on his familiar’s sight and was intrigued, more than alarmed, by what he saw.
From the heights the hawkling reached, the earth below resembled an archer’s target. The solitary rock formation where they currently stood was at the edge of a brownish circle that would have been the queen’s ring, just outside the king’s ring that encircled a curious sapphire wizard’s eye. The scale of the would-be-target was enormous. The strange, sapphire-blue center was easily half a dozen miles across, and the tan ring around it was just as wide. The sharp definition of the different rings was obviously unnatural. Hyden had to assume that the Tokamac Verge was at the heart of the Wizard’s Eye. He decided that maybe its radiant power had caused the anomaly. After all, the words Tokamac Verge translated as “Powered Boundary.” Hyden couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. It seemed that, since he was old enough to draw a bow, he’d been searching for the center of the Wizard’s Eye. Now here he was again.
Hyden had Talon circle down toward the center of the strange phenomenon. As the hawkling grew near, Hyden saw that there was some semblance of life near the edge of the shimmering center circle. Closer observation revealed that the center was a huge, translucent blue dome that sizzled and crackled with static. It was what made up the Wizard’s Eye of his comparative target. Hyden estimated it now at closer to ten miles in diameter. If it was a radiant field from the Verge, it was probably spherical, not just a dome.
The man-made structures outside the magical shell were low-built and crude. A few crop fields and an animal pen could be seen between the huddled structures. Strangely, nothing was more than a few hundred paces from the edge of the dome. Even stranger than that, not a single man or beast could be seen. The faint tendrils of smoke trailing up out of a few of the hovels could be made out, though. Faintly visible in the depths of the glassine sapphire field was a castle. It didn’t look like much more than a trio of towers jutting up out of the gloom. It was inside there, at the base of those towers, that Hyden sensed the Tokamac Verge.
As Talon winged his way back to the group, Hyden observed that there were no trees at all in the flat ring of featureless dead grass that surrounded the dome. He decided that traveling might be easy and worry free. Getting into the sphere might prove troublesome, but then again they might be able to walk right through it. They had to get there before they could find out.
He told the others what he had seen, as best as he could describe it. Since the air was still crisp and wintery, they chose to keep the shagmar coats with them. There was no way to tell how cold it would be at night, or inside the magical sphere. After eating, and hiding their stash of ropes, hand axes, ice divots, and spiked boots, they climbed down to the tree-scattered plain, and all of them, save for Durge, mounted the wolves. With the giant trotting along beside them, they started toward the Tokamac Verge. It didn’t take long for them to leave the company of the deformed trees and the dark ground in which they were rooted. They were then crossing terrain that was nothing but yellowed grass with no trees at all. By early evening, they could see the shining sapphire dome in the distance, but something else presented itself as they moved through the open field.
Alarm shot through Hyden. It was Talon’s alarm.
A dark, winged thing swept by overhead, its huge shadow giving it away to
the hawkling. Talon came racing back, and the wolves began to growl and whine.
“Dragon!” Corva said, looking up into the sun behind them. “A good-sized one at that.”
“No wonder the people live so close to that thing,” Jicks said as he slid off of Urp and drew his sword. “Out here there’s no cover at all.”
“Put the sword away,” Hyden said. “Your blade is useless against a dragon.” He turned to Corva. “What color was the wyrm? Could you tell?”
“It was dark in shadow, but not black. Deep green, I think.”
Corva strung Vaegon’s bow as he spoke. It amazed Hyden that the elf did this without taking his feral eyes off of the dragon. When he was done, he slid gracefully from Oof’s back. “It’s circling back to us,” he said as he nocked an arrow.
“It probably thinks we’re a herd of young trolls,” said Jicks nervously. “In these coats, we look like supper.”
“Get back on the wolves,” Hyden said. “That wyrm will get more than a mouthful, if it won’t listen to reason. I want all of you to ride like the wind to those structures.”
“What about you?” Durge asked in a deep whisper, as if speaking quietly might keep the dragon from hearing him.
“Huffa and I will be along shortly,” Hyden said. “Now go.”
The dragon had circled around and was already getting close enough that it eclipsed most of the sun from them. Like any high predator, it knew that using the sun would allow it to get closer before being detected. Hyden could tell that it wasn’t an adult dragon. It was maybe fifty feet long from nose to tail. He used Talon’s vision and his own at the same time, a trick he had learned from Dahg Mahn. By doing so, he could see the dragon more clearly, and its spirit aura as well. The creature wasn’t evil, or even dark natured. It was just hungry.
The Wizard and the Warlord (The Wardstone Trilogy Book Three) Page 36