The Revenge of the Elves

by Gary Alan Wassner

  “We must speak softly nonetheless,” Premoran said. “I should have requested a room at the top of the building, though a peephole in the flooring would be just as easy to create as one in the ceiling.”

  “What about the floor?” Giles asked. “We have to check that too, don’t we?”

  “I did. It’s secure. He may be crafty but he is also practical. The common room is directly beneath us. To have to spy upon guests from such a place would be unreliable at the least. The opportunity is better from the privacy of his room above us,” Premoran explained.

  “Where are we headed?” Alemar asked since it was finally safe to speak. Premoran seemed very concerned about the innkeeper. Too concerned, she thought. “Do you think Caeltin is tracking us?”

  “No. Not now. He no longer needs me for the moment. The opportunity has passed. And the boys are safe for the time being as well,” Premoran said. He cocked his head toward Alemar. “Unless there’s some reason he might be seeking you out.”

  Alemar shrugged. “Retribution maybe. I helped to free you,” she suggested.

  “Where will he strike next?” Giles asked. “Surely his anger won’t let him rest.”

  “Somewhere unexpected,” the wizard replied. “My escape and the loss of the shard will renew his efforts to thwart us. We never fail to pay a price when we deal with my brother.” Moistening his index finger, he ran it along the rim of a goblet he lifted off the table. A high-pitched sound rang out.

  “Someone does, even if it’s not us,” Teetoo said, paying no attention to him. “His frustration is great. He’s tried many things and spent countless lives and yet his campaigns have failed. The heirs are both free. They have the rings, so the quest can soon begin. The heir needs only the shard. Colton knows that and yet he was unable to secure it. Furthermore, the map the sisters protected for ages is gone from Parth,” Teetoo reiterated. “And you remain alive,” he said to the Wizard.

  “Yes. Each of these things must weigh upon him, my liberty, thanks to the two of you, no less than the rest,” he acknowledged Alemar and Giles without looking up from the table. “In addition, Sidra has begun to manifest her ability. He has not acted fast enough. Other powers stir.” Premoran tilted the glass and the tone changed.

  “Did you anticipate that?” Alemar asked. He was preoccupied with the goblet as if it was more important than what they were discussing. “Did you?”

  “At one point or another, I did,” he answered her. “And he must have as well. I know little about her, far too little. Her existence is an anomaly. She is a wild card in this game and her activity casts a new light upon things.”

  His finger sped around the top of the glass and the sound hurt Alemar’s ears. She grimaced. “What motivates her?” she asked. Alemar also knew nothing about Sidra. She was a name, no more, and one few mentioned very often.

  “We can be sure she believes what she does is for the good of us all. She is headstrong and confident in her ways. We can be sure she is extremely powerful. In her seclusion, she must have nurtured that power for it is far greater than it was tiels ago.” Shrill music filled the chamber as he lifted the glass over his head. “There has never been a moment when I was unaware of her presence. It resonates and her song is pronounced. But she must make choices, just like the rest of us, and whenever there are different paths to choose among, the wrong ones can be taken.”

  “Why can’t we communicate with her, talk to her?” Giles asked. He pressed his palm against his temple and squinted his eyes. The sound was beginning to hurt.

  “She guards her privacy well. We must wait and see if she will come to us,” Premoran replied. “But we can journey to her birthplace. That is a possibility.”

  “Where is she from?” Giles inquired. He backed away from the table, hoping the noise would be less intense.

  “Somewhere near Odelot,” Premoran replied. “We have good reason to travel there at this time anyway. Ironically, the dead city is more efficacious than ever.”

  “What other reason do you have for leading us there, aside from what we may be able to learn about Sidra?” Teetoo asked, his curiosity piqued. The noise seemed not to phase him in the slightest.

  “You know me too well, Teetoo,” Premoran said. He glanced out the dirty window and wrinkled his forehead. His eyes moved from left to right as if he was following something across the field before turning back. His finger circled the rim of the glass and it continued to sing, louder and louder. “We should sit. This could take some time.” He raised his free arm and motioned with his hand. Four rickety chairs slid across the room and stopped beside each of them. The wizard sat down and they joined him. He leaned back in the chair until it balanced upon its rear legs. “Pay attention Giles,” he snapped at the elf staring at the door. “There’s no one behind there. The innkeeper’s in his chamber sending out his birds with interesting messages strapped to their legs.” He held the goblet before him and twirled away.

  Alemar rose halfway in her seat. The sound irritated her but the birds revealing their location bothered her even more. Who to? she wondered.

  “Don’t worry, they won’t get far. They’ll soon be very tired and forget where they were supposed to fly.” The piercing sound grew almost intolerable. Alemar leaned against the cushions and covered both ears with her hands, and Giles drew his hood over his head. Premoran paid no attention to their discomfort and the music squeaked and squealed in higher timbres. He looked outside again only this time he seemed to be searching for something specific. His head jerked to the left and his gaze rose. His eyes searched the sky. The glass screamed.

  Giles buried his head in his lap and Alemar gritted her teeth. She couldn’t think any longer.

  The Wizard turned and placed the goblet back on the table. The music stopped. He removed his hand from it and the glass crumbled to powder.

  “Are you ready to listen to me yet?” he said to them all.

  “You could have warned us,” Giles said, rubbing his eyes. His head throbbed.

  Alemar let her hands drop from her ears and looked at Premoran as a mother would a child who just misbehaved. But at least the birds wouldn’t give them away, she thought and forgave him.

  “I was unprepared. The idea came upon me suddenly,” he responded with a mischievous grin. “Bend your heads in and heed my words.”

  They shuffled their chairs and opened their ears.

  “Many, many tiels ago, when the Lalas were saplings, a parchment appeared which contained directions to the First. I say ‘appeared’ because none of us knew where it came from. But this was no ordinary parchment, sheared as it was from the bark of the Lalas. We assumed it was entrusted to us by the Tree, but in fact it just appeared one morning. We were never sure of its origin. We intended to keep it under our protection, unread and inviolate, and unveil it only if a dire need to find the First arose.”

  “How did you know what it was? And why didn’t you read it?” Giles asked.

  He scoffed at the question. “We knew. But we felt such knowledge would be dangerous, not just for us. We believed it could threaten the First, that none of us were without flaws and it was best to guard the information and not give in to the temptation to gaze upon it, to learn what no others knew.”

  “You’ve had this all along? Isn’t there a great need to know now?” Alemar asked.

  “Hush, Princess. I have only just begun my story. Alas it’s not that simple,” he continued, interlocking his fingers, making a tower out of his pointers. “The scroll remained with us for a long time, nearly forgotten by some. The trees multiplied and thrived in many areas, and their Chosen watched over the races as planned. My brother was one of us then,” Premoran recalled. His eyes darkened at the memory. “As he found he could not live amongst us, he began to embrace his own personal quest for salvation. As I said, we were each flawed in some way. What he believed he needed to do in order to find some peace was becoming clearer to him.”

  “Dissolution,” Teetoo interjected, his voi
ce somber.

  “Exactly,” Premoran’s eyes narrowed. “He had not then determined that in order to achieve his desires, he would need to destroy the Gem which, as you know, is nestled in the heart of the First. We realized that before he did, and it became apparent the map could not be held by us any longer. Our imperfections had begun to manifest themselves as we feared. The map needed a new home where it would be safe from his eyes and ours.” He lifted his head and looked around the group. “Temptation, my friends, is one of the great flaws of the living. We sometimes justify our needs and our weaknesses by discovering elements in the world that confirm them. But that is no more than unconscious subterfuge.” Satisfied, he cleared his throat and continued. “We entrusted the map to the sisters who were then first being assembled to serve in Parth. Parth is a place of safety, a nexus of great power, and we believed it would be secure there from all our temptations. All our temptations,” he repeated, looking hard at each of them from beneath his bushy eyebrows. “The desire to look at the map was greater than you can imagine, though we all knew that knowledge of the whereabouts of the First might fester. The enticement of its beauty could prove too powerful to resist, the knowledge one might gain by finding it, the power…” He stopped himself mid-sentence and his right eye twitched. “It could have endangered the entire earth. As my brother grew more detached from us, his vision could no longer pierce the walls of Parth, nor did he attempt to, since it is the power of the trees that supported Parth, and that power exacerbated his pain. We never informed him of the map’s dispatch regardless, and when he finally realized how much easier it would be to sunder the world if he possessed it himself, it was too late, the map was gone!”

  Premoran’s chair still balanced on two legs and he leaned back even further. No one said a word. Teetoo knew the histories better than any by virtue of his association with Premoran, but he too sat and listened, spellbound. The chandelier above shook and the candles flickered, as dust fell in soft puffs from the ceiling. Premoran glanced up and smirked.

  “The trees, naturally, knew of the parchment’s location, as did their Chosen. They guided the sisters in the beginning, and they chose with care among those who offered to serve in the Tower, picking only those whose hearts were pure and whose qualities were ‘special’.”

  “Special?” Alemar asked.

  “Hush child,” Premoran replied without looking at her. “Let me finish.” His memory of the first recruits as they embraced their new purpose and so willingly put aside their worldly pursuits was vivid. The day the original group of sisters crossed the threshold of Parth and walked into the Tower was a moment to mark time by. He was there. He would not forget.

  “As my brother’s power waxed while that of the trees appeared to wane, much began to change. After Gwendolen fell, there was little we could do to impede his progress. I was too busy gathering the shards,” he jeered at himself, “and Calista alone sought with desperation to maintain the balance amidst the first transitions of power. By then, the others of our kind were already gone. Only she and I remained until she succumbed to Colton in her effort to save Pardatha and the boy, now called Davmiran.” Shifting his weight, the chair legs came down upon the floor with a smack. The sound echoed like a burst of anger. Premoran pulled on his beard. He raised one finger and the drapes snapped shut across the window. “When Baladar reported that the heir had appeared in his city once again, the entire earth moved, though the child was insensate and yet unable to protect himself. We knew from the Tomes that at that very moment, that single instant, it had begun.” He closed his eyes and remembered. “Then, after he suddenly vanished and re-emerged in Seramour, and his twin made his presence known to the world and to my brother unexpectedly, a bright light burst upon the horizon. Since then, it is like a new dawn, though the darkness continues to hover precariously above. The contrasts are sharper than ever before.”

  Giles removed a flask of kala sap from within the folds of his cape and passed it around. It landed at Premoran’s chair. Tipping his chin in appreciation, Premoran took a sip and began to speak once more.

  “It became apparent that it was entirely too dangerous to allow the map to exist at all. So much changed and so much was unanticipated. Events spun out of control, as more of the trees departed, leaving a void where there once was a foundation. Parth can no longer be considered a sure haven, as tragic and frightening as that seems. If my brother gains possession of the parchment, it could be catastrophic, so the Lalas instructed one of the sisters to dispose of it, in fear that he might find it before it could be given to Davmiran or Tomas. Even if the boys did obtain it, it might be stolen from them, or they might be manipulated and reveal what they must not.”

  “Why could you not take possession of it then?” Giles asked what seemed a simple question.

  “Or just read it and commit it to memory?” Alemar added.

  “Have you forgotten where you just rescued me from?” Premoran reminded them. “Knowing my brother’s abilities, having it in my mind would not have afforded it any greater protection. Calista perhaps would have been a more likely choice than I, had she survived. Though at this point I doubt my brother would have hesitated to kill her as well if he knew she had the map. And, it cannot easily be read, my friends. This map is not simply a drawing upon a piece of parchment,” he explained. “I am not even sure if it would reveal itself to me. Perhaps to the twins it would….” he mused, preoccupied. Shaking himself from his reverie, he continued on again. “The tragedy is that my brother grows more insidious as his desperation mounts.” Premoran stood and walked to the window. He pushed the curtains apart and opened it with the flat of his palm. A warm gust of air blew across the room. The glass and shades shut behind him as he returned to the group.

  “There was no reason to give the Dark One more incentive to capture the heir and his brother. This way, they both quest independent of one another, and it may increase the odds that one of them will find the First,” Teetoo explained, looking over their heads and watching Premoran as he settled into the chair.

  “Yes. He can track Davmiran or Tomas, but not both at the same time, as long as they remain apart,” the Wizard picked up where Teetoo left off. They spoke with one mind. “Even if he tries to kill one of the boys, then he must weigh that choice against the belief one may ultimately lead him to his goal. If the map were in Davmiran’s hands, he would have no further need for Tomas, and vice versa.”

  “So the destruction of the map may actually help the twins,” Alemar said, her face puzzled. She tried to make sense of the many implications but it wasn’t easy.

  “In a way, yes,” Premoran replied. “If it were to become known who harbored the parchment now, it would only bring my brother’s wrath down upon them, and neither of these boys is ready to withstand that.”

  “What of Sidra?” Giles asked. “Couldn’t she hold it? Everyone seems to think she’s so powerful.”

  “I cannot speak for her. The extent of her strength is still unknown to me.” Premoran clutched the arm of the chair at the mention of her name. “But why tempt my brother with its continued existence? Why tempt anyone?” he asked, gazing up at the ceiling, all thoughts of Sidra gone. “A very long time ago, when the world was younger and more innocent, it comforted us to know a guide to the First existed, should we ever require it. The idea of a Lalas dying and the Gem’s light being restricted was unimaginable and we failed to anticipate such a disaster.”

  “It must have been difficult for the Lalas to instruct the sister to destroy it,” Alemar said. “It’s their means of salvation too, is it not?”

  Something about what the Princess said sent the wizard deep into thought. The room grew still.

  “A piece is missing,” Alemar blurted out and her eyes sparked. “If the Lalas feared for the twins and believed it wise neither they nor Caeltin gain possession of the map, why take the chance of entrusting it to a single sister? This woman from Parth was no more likely to evade the Dark One than the boys! How
much safer was it in her pocket? And why does the map even exist to begin with?”

  “The Princess makes a good point,” Giles said. “Isn’t it just as dangerous this way? If we were never meant to look at it, then why did it come to be?”

  “It’s not that I doubt the motives of the Lalas, nor their objectives,” Alemar added. “I met with Wayfair and I heard the language of the Lalas, as if I was a Chosen myself.” She remembered every beautiful moment of that experience. “But there is something we’re not seeing in this; something I do not see, if in fact this parchment is vital to us.” She shrugged and settled back in the chair. “But what matter our thoughts on this if the map has been cast down the well already and is gone from this world forever?”

  Premoran twiddled his thumbs, but not out of boredom. “The incongruity was not clear to me until this moment. I understood the temptation all too well,” he said. “But by the First, what were they thinking? Odelot? Hmmm. Who has the key now ?” he seemed to be asking himself. “The map cannot be properly disposed of without the key.”

  “What key? You never mentioned a key before,” Teetoo asked, confused now too. They shared most all of their confidences. The pupils of his bird-like eyes narrowed and his slim shoulders rose. He lifted up in his seat as if he were about to take flight.

  “I was about to,” Premoran replied, leaning forward once again. He studied their faces, one to the next. “Moments before Tamara was instructed to cast the map down the well, I had left her in the woods near Wayfair and I knew of her undertaking. But in order for the map to actually fall to where it would be consumed for all eternity, she required the one key that would open the final door for her, which lies at the very bottom of the well; a key she was unaware of.” The layers of this history were convoluted, much more than they imagined. “There were only a few of us who knew about the key to begin with, we sought to orchestrate this as discretely as possible,” he explained. “I set things in motion, but my captivity prevented me from doing more than that. I expected King Bristar would have completed his part of the task and retrieved the key, but once again, unforseen obstacles were placed in his way. Who could possibly have the key now?” he wondered aloud.