The Revenge of the Elves

by Gary Alan Wassner

  “What’s holding it up?” Caroline asked, unconcerned. She looked around it and stepped upon the roadway.

  “I can’t tell. It’s just hanging there.” He tested the path first with the toe of his boot and then followed.

  The wind covered their tracks, their footprints blown away. As they approached, a whooshing sound broke the silence. Clouds of dark sand danced in the air in concentric circles around the sphere, rising and falling rhythmically. The sphere remained stationary. The ground underneath was concave and smooth, and it mirrored the curves of the globe.

  “It’s spinning. I can see it turning. Watch how the rays reflect off it,” Dalloway remarked. The sight of it made him forget how uncomfortable he was. But only for an instant.

  “Do you hear that noise? The air is keeping it aloft,” Caroline said. “But it looks so heavy! It seems impossible it could hang like this.”

  “It does,” he agreed. “Don’t go too close. It might fall,” he warned her, pulling on her sleeve.

  “It’s probably been here since the city was built. It fits right into this square. I doubt it would choose to fall now, after all this time,” she reassured him.

  “Please don’t Caroline.”

  She leaned in closer.

  “Look there,” she pointed to the center of the ground below it. “There’s a hole.” A tiny round hollow marked the middle of the space.

  “The wind’s coming up through it. How?” he wondered aloud. The sphere was large. What might be beneath it worried him even more, but Caroline was like a child, enthralled by the toys around her. “What do you suppose it is?”

  “Art? What else could it be?” Dalloway replied.

  “It has to be something more than that.” She stared at it.

  “My brother would know,” he said. “He’d figure it out.” Fallean was the most analytical of the three. All Dalloway wanted to do was get through here and find the well. Caroline was too comfortable. Far too comfortable.

  “I didn’t know you had a brother,” she replied, surprised she hadn’t learned of this when their minds were locked together.

  “I have two brothers. I thought you would have known,” he said. “Elion is the eldest. He’s in Crispen with my uncle Bristar. I was in Eleutheria studying with my uncle Whitestar, and Fallean, the middle one, was shipped off to the island of the sea elves, to the home of my mother’s brother, uncle Windstorm.”

  “I have only my father,” she said, but her mind was on the hanging globe.

  “I try not to think about them often. We’ve never been apart this long before.” He felt a little foolish confessing his feelings about them. But to Caroline, it was easier than he expected. Separations were difficult for him. Being the youngest of the three, his brothers took a proprietary interest in his welfare and the depth of their concern comforted him.

  “Soon you’ll be together again.” His features softened at the mention of his family.

  “The First willing,” he replied.

  “Where could the air be coming from?” she said, as if the prior words were never spoken.

  “What’s beneath us? Rock? Sand? How could a wind from under the earth be strong enough to hold this up? And it’s so quiet. Too quiet.” He turned his ear to the sound. “I can hear the air escaping from the earth, but I can’t hear anything driving it.” It occurred to him that maybe there was a system of caves under the surface, that Odelot was sitting atop a maze of passageways and tunnels. Could the well be underground? Were they searching in the wrong place?

  “Let’s go on. I don’t want to stare at this forever. It’s not a well, we can see that.” Caroline dismissed it suddenly.

  “If this is functioning, then whatever existed beneath the surface in the old days, must be intact as well. It hasn’t collapsed or failed,” Dalloway said. His skin prickled at the thought of what might be underfoot.

  They walked around it with care. Caroline brushed against something sharp that protruded from the corner of the building, catching her sleeve upon it. She tried pulling her arm free, but the cloth was stuck fast.

  Dalloway reached over and grabbed the fabric. “You’re caught. Don’t move.” He pulled upon it and it came free, but her blouse tore and a small piece of the cloth hung upon the stone.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she replied and walked on, barely looking at her shirt.

  On the other side of the square there was a single path. Passing between two tall walls, the windows of which were concealed almost to their tops, they left the spinning rock behind. The street ran as straight as an elfin arrow across the city.

  Mounds of sand littered the roadway and they climbed up and down and up and down, over and over again, merely to travel a hundred yards. Still black as pitch, the sand gave way under their feet, though they didn’t sink further than an inch or two as they walked. A gust blew down the alleyway, altering the pattern of the street altogether and replacing mounds with valleys, creating mountains of sand where the surface had been flat and flattening out areas that had risen far into the air. Pressing themselves against the side of a building, they concealed their faces with their capes and waited for it to subside. Their bodies were covered in fine particles and the grains worked their way into the smallest openings and crevices of their apparel despite how tight they wrapped themselves in it.

  “If we remain in one spot for more than twenty minutes, we’ll be buried!” Caroline said as she shook the gritty particles out of the folds of her hood. “Do you think this street will ever end?” It stretched out before them without a curve in sight.

  “I see something up ahead. Come on,” he replied. The image of them being smothered by the blowing sand wouldn’t leave his mind. Caroline said it so casually, without a hint of concern.

  They passed no doorways or arches leading from the street into the buildings that framed it. Windows in random patterns lined the walls above but there were no visible ways in or out, and even in the places where the paved surface was exposed and they walked at ground level, no doorframes or entrances existed.

  “An army could invade the city and it would be trapped right in the very middle of it if they tried to get from one end to the other,” Dalloway observed.

  “Can you see to the end?” she asked.

  He stared ahead. “There’s a gate there, I think,” he replied, looking straight down the road as far as he could. “I hope it’s a doorway. If we come to the end and we have no way of continuing on we’ll have to go back to where we started.” He didn’t want to walk through the city again. He felt trapped on this street. The surface was hard here, but he didn’t trust it. They walked on. “It’s the top of an archway. It has to be, but the rest of it’s covered,” Dalloway said. “We’re going to have to dig our way through.”

  “Light’s coming through the space,” Caroline replied. Slender bright rays fanned out across the black sand. “How far do you think we’ve walked? Have we reached the city center yet?”

  “I can’t tell. A street like this must lead somewhere.”

  They reached the obstruction and stood right before it. “Let’s climb up it. Maybe we’ll be able to see what’s on the other side.” Caroline started up the dark mound and stumbled. “It gives way as I step on it.” The sand collapsed around her feet and she tripped more than once.

  “You sink too easily in this.” Dalloway scurried up the hill beside her. The surface was loose, soft, and it collapsed more with each step. He didn’t want her walking alone.

  His rushed steps caused an entire section to slide. “Hurry!” she said.

  “Stay close to me. Take my arm. If one of us should fall, at least the other can try to hold on.” He pulled his feet out from underneath the sand as fast as he could. The feel of them buried in black was disturbing.

  Grasping on to him, they climbed the hill together without much difficulty. Some sand fell away under their combined weight, but the majority of the heap remained intact until they reached the summit. At the top, the space betw
een the stone arch and the sand was smaller than it had appeared to them from below. The sunlight streamed through, reflecting off the shiny sand. The brightness had made it look much larger earlier.

  Dalloway looked at the opening. “We can either shimmy through, or try to make the opening bigger.”

  “We should look through first. Maybe we won’t want to go after that,” she said half-joking. At least he thought she was joking.

  Dalloway got on all fours. Pushing the sand carefully with one hand, he scooped out a larger opening so he could peer through it without having to lay his head right on the hot sand. Craning his neck, he gazed through the space. The sun passed behind another mass of clouds just at the right time, and he stared out into the distance without being blinded by the glare.

  “What do you see?” Caroline asked.

  “Another square, but it’s much larger than the last one,” he replied. “The buildings around it are taller, and different…” He moved carefully, afraid the entire mound would collapse.

  “Will it be difficult to cross? Will it take us where we want to go?”

  “It’s just covered with sand, like everywhere else in this city. It’ll take us closer to the water,” he replied. He could see the shore in the distance and the roiling water of the western sea beyond it. It was said that great beasts lived amongst the thick seaweed surrounding Odelot and that only the best sailors could navigate the shallow beds. The reeds reached out for the deep hulled ships and wrapped themselves around them, dragging them into the murky depths. The green tides washed up on the shores, littering the beaches with the bones of the dead.

  He dug with intensity, glad to be on solid ground again. The sand didn’t seem so bad after all. He pushed at it and the opening expanded, almost wide enough for them to slip through, when Caroline spun around, shaking all over.

  “What’s wrong? What’s happening?” He knew it. The dead were everywhere. He could sense them. That’s why he was uncomfortable.

  “I feel something. Shhh!” she said, frightened. Her skin tingled and she wrapped her arms around her body. The wind stopped blowing and the air was insufferable.

  Dalloway stopped digging. “What? What is it, Caroline?”

  “Life,” she whispered, as the blood drained from her face. “There’s something alive here.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Fallean strode over Madar’s motionless body and led his companions down the hill, toward the path leading out of the woods. Teren’s screaming voice faded with each step.

  “I will still that fool’s whining,” Caryssa said impatiently. She started walking back to where they left him suspended between the bushes.

  “No. Let him be,” Fallean replied. Glumly he laid his hand upon her arm. “These woods are empty of people. His screaming will only endanger himself.”

  “As you wish,” she huffed, frustrated by his decision. Leaving an enemy alive was never her choice. Corpses revealed so much less.

  “Tell me Fallean, why did you allow them the illusion for so long?” Lana ran her fingers through her short, blonde hair then wiped the grime from her face with a rag she pulled from her belt. “I have welts on my ankles.”

  “I do as well!” Caryssa agreed. “You have much more patience than I, Fallean.” She would have killed them both when they were first ambushed.

  “We learned from them what we needed to. I knew they’d reveal it if we gave them time. All our enemies should be so simpleminded and easy to deceive,” he said. “And you, Caryssa, would be better served if you were not as impetuous! Information can be as powerful as a sword.”

  Caryssa scoffed, discounting his remark. If he felt that way, then he should have let her kill them. Dead men tell no tales.

  “So it is one of the Possessed who seeks us out, as you suspected,” Lana said. “A bounty of King’s gold? I don’t know if you are worth that much,” she said to him.

  “Caryssa is if I’m not!” Fallean joked. “I might even consider paying it myself in order to get rid of her! She’s a wild and dangerous woman,” he said. He raised his arms before his body, feigning fear, his eyes wide and terror struck.

  “You wish each of your bodyguards could be as strong as I,” she responded, stone-faced and proud. Joking wasn’t part of her personality. “I still think we should kill them. Why take the chance that someone will stumble upon them and learn of our escape? This is foolish, nothing more.” She muttered something under her breath.

  “Let nature take its course. If anyone finds them, we’ll be long gone. You need not have their blood upon your hands,” he said.

  “It would bother me not,” Caryssa replied. Bloody hands were better than stone cold ones. How could she protect them if they wouldn’t let her?

  “How did she learn of our arrival?” Lana asked. Someone must have seen them. The southern skies were alive with flying beasts when they landed. She wondered if they were spies. How many others knew of their presence?

  “There are many willing to sell the Dark One and his pawns information,” Caryssa said with disdain. Too many these days, she thought.

  “Caeltin D’Are Agenathea does not pay for what he wants,” Fallean replied. “He takes it. If they expected payment, I’m sure they’ve gotten it by now.” They both knew what he meant.

  They walked down a steep slope and the sparse shrubbery ended abruptly as if swiped clean from the earth by a giant hand. High up in the sky, a flock of large gray birds circled over the barren plain. They shrieked and cawed, swooping low and rising again.

  “What are they searching for?” Lana asked. “They’re birds of prey, aren’t they?”

  “Yes,” Caryssa replied, cupping her hands and looking through the opening like it was a spyglass. “They haven’t spotted our movements yet by the looks of it. What else is lurking out there that might interest them?”

  “Some injured animal, most likely,” Fallean said.

  “And they’re waiting for it to die,” Caryssa added.

  “Or for the ones we left behind us,” Lana said.

  “I suppose nothing lives for too long in these parts no matter where it comes from,” Fallean said.

  “It won’t be easy to continue on here undetected. There’s no cover. They’ll spot us,” Caryssa observed. “Now I’m glad I didn’t kill those two up there. It’ll take the birds more time if they’re alive.”

  “We’re fooling ourselves to think there won’t be others on our trail soon. The witch knows we’re here, and when we don’t arrive in Peltaran by the deadline she set for them…” Lana replied, leaving the rest of her thought unspoken.

  “It’s the Innkeeper whom I worry about,” Fallean said. “He’s more dangerous than he appears.”

  “They promised him a further bounty when they returned, in exchange for his silence,” Caryssa said, remembering the conversation.

  “He wouldn’t be seduced so easily by the hope of them returning with King’s gold. He’s no fool. He’s an experienced scoundrel. If he gets a better offer for the information he attained, he’ll take it without hesitation,” Lana said.

  “If he has not already sold it,” Fallean agreed. “We can only hope he had no one to sell it to fast enough to endanger us prematurely.”

  “Do you think she’ll wait in Peltaran for them to arrive?” Caryssa asked, doubting.

  “She will wait at least until the moment they were supposed to be there,” Fallean replied. “She has no reason to assume they won’t succeed, unless someone advised her to think otherwise.”

  “What reason would the Innkeeper have to suspect that we were not securely restrained? We gave him no cause,” Lana said. They had been as submissive as possible under the circumstances.

  “He’s a sly one,” Caryssa jeered. “If it was up to me, I would have slit his throat that night.” The dead only speak if their killers are sloppy and Caryssa was never sloppy.

  “Yes, but then we wouldn’t have known where and when we were to be delivered, and to whom! This informa
tion’s crucial to us. We know what to avoid,” Fallean reminded her. “And for certain, the alarm would have gone out if someone found him dead at the Inn. It’s the only game in town and surely someone else will stop there soon.”

  “What good does it do to know who’s seeking us anyway? Are we going to Peltaran to confront her?” Caryssa asked, knowing that was not an option.

  “At least we know a bounty is on our heads and that we must be careful,” Lana said.

  “I’m always careful,” Caryssa stated. She felt no more endangered than before. As far as she was concerned, everyone was a threat. Gaining her trust was a feat not easily accomplished.

  “There will be others tempted to find us now too. Why does she want us? What can we tell her?” Lana asked.

  “I care not why. That she does is enough for me” Caryssa replied. And she meant it. The witch’s motives didn’t concern her.

  “I’m anxious to get home to Seramour,” Fallean confessed. “My people have suffered many losses. Besides, I’ve been gone for a long time. I miss it.” He missed his family. He wondered too if his brothers had returned yet, if they were safe. He longed to be home.

  “And I’m determined to see you there safely,” Caryssa said. “Both you and your cousin,” she stuck her chin out toward Lana.

  “Let’s move on then, but carefully,” Fallean said.

  “As carefully as we can without anything to conceal us,” Caryssa added.

  The ground was barren and flat, and it provided no shelter as they crossed the plain. They stepped out onto the parched earth, heading in the direction of the town near to which they were first captured.

  “If we can reach Tallon before dawn, we can enter it without being seen. There are people there who will help us,” Fallean said. “It was once a place favored by the elves of Lormarion. I pray it hasn’t changed much in my absence.”

  “Everything has changed since the Dark One has awoken,” Lana remarked. The storms that wracked the seas and the islands were harsh reminders of that.

  “Was he ever asleep?” Caryssa asked.