by Lee Dunning
They’d started moving again, Lady Swiftbrook’s floating light globes throwing strange shadows along the walls of the cave as they slunk along beside their mistress, seemingly as depressed as she.
“I would like to know what gift she gave you,” W’rath said.
“She has … had the most beautiful garden. I always admired it—envied it to be honest. She gave me a sapling, the offspring of her most prized twilight pine, and a collection of seeds from all of the varieties of flowers that call home to the glade she created.”
“I see.” W’rath cocked his head toward Foxfire. “And what did she give you and Lady Kela?”
Foxfire blinked, startled. “How did you know she gave us anything?”
“I didn’t. It occurred to me, that faced with her impending death, she might have felt compelled to get her affairs in order, perhaps even provide gifts to those she knew would survive.”
Foxfire started to reply, but Lady Swiftbrook interrupted him. “I can’t imagine how a sapling and some seeds could help us in our current situation,” she said.
Raven frowned, fully expecting W’rath to repeat his question to Foxfire concerning Lady Stormchaser’s gifts to him and Kela. Even Raven interpreted Lady Swiftbrook’s interruption as a clumsy attempt to silence the Wood Elf. But W’rath seemed content to let the Sky Elf steer the conversation away from whatever topic she wished to avoid. “I confess, I have no answers,” he said, shrugging. “Just a random musing on my part, which may have nothing at all to do with reality. She may very well have given them to you simply because of your friendship.”
“I think warning us, so we could save all those people, would have been a much better gift,” Foxfire muttered, face set in a scowl Kela would approve of.
“Unless,” Raven said, “she saw far enough into the future to know that if she prevented the disaster at Second Home, it would lead to something even worse. Or maybe we needed to go through this horror in order to achieve some necessary goal later on.”
Foxfire grimaced. “That’s a lovely thought. Hopefully, she left a note or something explaining herself.”
“That’s a nice thought,” Raven said. W’rath, nodded in apparent agreement, no hint at all that she might possess the information they needed. He was so much better with secrets than she. It didn’t seem right to keep the books from their new friends, but if W’rath was right, and they contained information that proved unpopular, it would make it much harder for them to implement change on behalf of the Shadow Elves.
“We’ll have to visit her place tomorrow,” Lady Swiftbrook said.
W’rath made a face. “We still have most of the night. We can take a quick tour of this hole in the ground, see where the Shadow Elves have been rotting away for these past years, and then we can do a thorough search of Lady Stormchaser’s abode before someone else does.”
“In case you’ve forgotten,” Lady Swiftbrook said, throwing W’rath an exasperated look, “we’ve only just made it through a tiring, emotional day. Councilor Stormchaser’s estate won’t vanish overnight. I hardly think someone will ransack it in the meantime.”
“She’s right,” Raven said, feeling the full depth of her own weariness. “I’m past tired—I’m exhausted. Seeing the condition of those boys just about did me in. Part of me wanted to punch something and part of me just wanted to cry.” She felt the stirring of anger once again and her hands balled up into fists. She wasn’t used to struggling with such anger. How much influence did Linden have over her? How much could she still claim as her own?
“Forgive me, ladies.” W’rath’s deep voice drew Raven out of her uncomfortable thoughts. “I’m used to pushing on without hope of respite. You’re absolutely right. This isn’t an Exile city. We have no reason to believe a pack of hoodlums will compromise the sanctity of Lady Stormchaser’s residence while we rest.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Foxfire said. Lady Swiftbrook tried to cut him off again, but Foxfire ignored her and pressed on. “You wanted to know what Councilor Stormchaser gave Kela and me? She gave me the lute on my back. Traveling the world as a bard gives me access to almost all people of every part of society. There’s hardly a place I can’t enter and gather information. Everyone, especially after they’ve had a few drinks, likes to talk to the bard. I’m willing to bet there isn’t another elf who knows more about humans than I.”
Raven saw the flicker of disdain that crossed W’rath’s face at the mention of humans, but for once he held his tongue. Something in Foxfire’s tone, and Lady Swiftbrook’s attempts to quiet him, piqued her curiosity. “What does that have to do with Lady Stormchaser’s estate?”
Firefox turned, body taunt, to face Lady Swiftbrook. “Shouldn’t our new councilors be privy to everything we’re dealing with?”
“We’ve had other concerns, in case you’ve forgotten,” Lady Swiftbrook snapped, her own frustration finally coming to a head.
“Right. You’re right. Even so …” Foxfire sighed, and made an effort to compose himself. Once he regained control of his temper, Foxfire addressed Raven and W’rath. “Even before this latest disaster, the Wood Elves have been at war with a human kingdom that wants to drive us from the forest where we live. Lady Stormchaser was one of the few who supported us, not just by voting in council,” he paused to focus his displeasure on Lady Swiftbrook, “but by acting on her convictions.”
W’rath made an odd choking noise Raven felt expressed her own incredulity perfectly. We’re just now hearing about this? For his part, Foxfire seemed encouraged by what he saw in her face and gave her a brief smile of gratitude before continuing.
“So, Lord W’rath, to further answer your question, because of the war with the humans, Lady Stormchaser gave Kela several hundred bows. We’re fine crafters. We build strong, well-made bows. But we don’t have much magic left to us, so our weapons tend toward the mundane. Councilor Stormchaser sent us highly magical weapons. They’re almost impossible to destroy, have incredible range, and they conjure their own ammo through the act of drawing the bow.
“But the most stunning part? Not one other councilor has stepped in to provide us with any aid. So, no, I wouldn’t put it past someone to search Lady Stormchaser’s property for anything that might help their cause or hinder ours.” He stopped abruptly, drawing himself as straight as possible, bristling with indignation, daring the much taller Sky Elf to try to deny his claims.
All eyes shifted to Lady Swiftbrook. She sagged against the cave wall, lips thin and pale. This day was proving decidedly uncomfortable for her. “Lord K’hul felt strongly about taking an isolationist view of the conflict. We voted. The First Born, Shadow Elves and Sea Elves voted as a block to deny any involvement. They had the majority vote, so even though Councilor Stormchaser and I supported sending aid to the Wood Elves, we had to abide by the results of the vote.”
“In other words, you left us to swing in the wind. It’s all fine for everyone living on a chain of islands protected by a great magical shield, but what about those of us on the mainland, surrounded by those who think of us as savages, unworthy of the slightest consideration?”
“I didn’t say I agreed,” Lady Swiftbrook said. “However, the vote was valid, so like it or not, we had to abide by the results.”
“Councilor, I have always seen you as a good person, but the fact that you would withhold aid to us because of what others want makes me think being good just isn’t enough.”
Lady Swiftbrook flinched, as though struck, but she stood her ground. “What you’re proposing would bring chaos. If we don’t bow to the will of the majority, any faction with an agenda could wreak havoc among the populace.”
The cords in Foxfire’s neck tautened, and it seemed to Raven his spiky red hair was trying to puff up like the tail of angry squirrel. “That’s already going on,” the Wood Elf said. “The Sea Elves don’t make decisions based on any knowledge or understanding of the situations they vote on. They look to the First Born and do whatever the current
descendant of the First wants. We’re expected to bow to their will regardless of the consequences facing us. They couldn’t care less about the politics going on among people a thousand miles distant from them. Of course, if they manage to unearth the culprits behind the fall of Second Home, they’ll expect us to drop everything and help wage war against them. And of course we’ll do that, we want to help, you’re our kin, but we expect the same in return. That currently isn’t happening.”
“I take it relocating to First Home isn’t an option?” Raven asked.
“Our Sky Elf ancestors remade themselves to provide guardianship for that forest. We’ve called it home since the Great Settling.” Foxfire’s voice had grown so loud it echoed throughout the cave system. “I’m the most worldly Wood Elf you’ll ever meet, and even I grow sick at the idea of abandoning the forest, over two million acres, that the Wood Elves have nurtured for seven thousand years. King Oblund will take that land so he can build siege weapons for the purpose of going to war with his neighbor King Luccan. The man is insatiable. It won’t happen in his lifetime, or even his son or grandson’s lifetimes, but eventually they will destroy the entire forest in their quest for lumber, game and new farm land. I will not just sit back and let that happen no matter what anyone on the council votes.”
A long silence followed. Foxfire stalked ahead of them, hands clenching and unclenching, simmering with fury. Raven regretted opening her mouth, while Lady Swiftbrook appeared to be trying to merge in with the cave wall. W’rath eased past them, thoughtful. Preoccupied, none of them realized immediately that the narrow cave they’d traveled had suddenly opened up into a vast blackness. Lady Swiftbrook’s floating lights sped away upon her command, soaring about the cavern, illuminating a treasure unseen by any but Shadow Elves for generations.
Gold lit up at the touch of the magic lights only to find itself outshone by the sparkle of deep purple crystals and amethyst. What wasn’t tiled in gold or overlaid with gems, gleamed with black lacquer.
Despite their ability to see in pitch black, the two Shadow Elves had no way of seeing the colors and details of this world without the light provided by Lady Swiftbrook’s mage lights. They stood gaping at the sight just like their companions.
The cavern, a bubble within the rock, spanned for miles. Enormous multi-colored fungus crowded together forming a vast forest of mushrooms and toadstools. Stalactites and stalagmites gleamed like dragon’s teeth. Yet all was dwarfed by the massive structure towering above it all. A great castle of gleaming black wood so dominated the cavern, it fooled the eye into thinking everything surrounding it was tiny. But then the sudden appearance of the lights sent a half-dozen desiccated Shadow Elves staggering in distress for the shelter of the castle. The mushrooms rose like ancient redwoods around them.
“Fuck me,” Firefox said, his anger swept away as he took in the immense underworld realm.
“Well said,” replied Raven.
Supported by the gleaming walls, the roof was the true glory of the castle. Tiled in purple crystal, the edges swept up into golden sculptures of all manner of fantastic creatures. Whether intended as guardians, or simply as decoration, Raven had no idea, but seeing how much skill and magic had gone into the building of the structure, one thing became clear: “Those who built this had great love for the Shadow Elves,” she murmured.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Lady Swiftbrook murmured. “The air vibrates with the amount of enchantment imbued into it. You’re right, Shadow Elves didn’t build this—they don’t have the ability to channel the magic used here. This took the combined strength of Sky Elves and First Born to create.”
Raven continued to marvel at what lay before her, memories of her former home surfacing. T’odol mas os si Merdaesalael— Midnight Star of the Subterranean. Many considered it the most magnificent of the Exile cities. Even with its slave-created sculptures, and sparkling colored lights, it was a slum compared to this one wondrous structure. The fungus gardens surrounding it outshone anything she’d experienced.
Her brain finally shook itself free of the dazzling sight, and she found that tears trailed down her face. She brushed at them, but more escaped her eyes. What a joy to find that, after Umbral’s exile, the Shadow Elves who stayed true to the First, had not been ostracized. That meant this underground palace couldn’t have been built, no created, until three thousand years later when the Great Settling occurred. So, at what point had things gone awry? Had a second falling-out, no one outside of First Home knew of, occurred? Or had things deteriorated as the result of a few sick minds from the last hundred or so years?
It wasn’t until Lady Swiftbrook answered that Raven realized she’d spoken out loud. “I truly do not know,” the Sky Elf said. “To my knowledge, no other conflict arose that would have caused a schism among the resident Shadow Elves and anyone else. Admittedly, the Shadow Elves felt the need to prove their continued loyalty. Over the years it changed to something more akin to a celebration, a rite of passage for young elves when they reached adulthood. They’d receive a simple assignment involving the gathering of information or objects from somewhere on the mainland. More fun than anything—a scavenger hunt of sorts. We had an annual festival honoring all of those who underwent the trial each year.” She stopped speaking, her brows knitting in puzzlement.
“What is it?” Raven asked.
“It’s very strange. I cannot for the life of me remember when we last had one of those festivals. They were so important to everyone on the islands. Why can’t I remember when or why they stopped?” A flash of fear flickered in her eyes.
W’rath came to her rescue. “I shouldn’t worry over much about it, madam. I must confess, when I found you in Second Home, my concerns lay with your immediate sanity, and due to the danger surrounding us, I might have spent less time than I normally would sorting out the particulars of your memories. Either your mind will repair itself in the coming days, or once I can use my powers overtly again, without causing myself injury, I shall put things to right.”
Lady Swiftbrook laughed shakily. “That’s a relief. With all that’s gone on, I feared someone had purposely erased my memories. You’ve got me seeing conspiracies everywhere.”
W’rath shrugged. “Also an entirely plausible explanation.”
“You really do enjoy being an ass,” the Sky Elf muttered.
“Getting back to the topic at hand … I can’t say that I remember any such festivals at all,” Foxfire said, “Keep in mind though, I only just arrived at First Home to join the council about twenty years ago. The festivals must have already stopped by then. Kela joined the council then, too, so there’s no point in asking her.”
The grin that had formed on W’rath’s face at Lady Swiftbrook’s pronouncement of his character dropped as the significance of Foxfire’s words sunk in. “You and Kela have only served on the council twenty years?”
“Yeah, we took office after the last two went missing.”
“So … the collars were already in use when you came to First Home. It was the previous Wood Elf councilors who voted in opposition to their implementation?”
“That’s right.”
W’rath waited while the others thought through the implications of Foxfire’s statement.
“You’re thinking their disappearance had to do with them opposing the collars?” Foxfire asked, his voice tinged with the beginnings of dread.
“Indeed.”
Lady Swiftbrook’s shook her head in denial, backing away as if the act of distancing herself from the terrible words, could make them untrue. “How can you even contemplate the idea of councilors murdering other councilors? Besides, it doesn’t make sense. Councilor Stormchaser and I also opposed the collars, and no harm came to us.”
“Ah, but did you go so far as to use your rings to unlock the collars?”
“Of course!” Raven said, seeing the connection W’rath had made. “All of you were surprised when you couldn’t remove the collars with your rings. Why make
that change if someone hadn’t already defied the council and removed the collars themselves? The previous Wood Elf councilors must have done exactly that and then …”
“They vanished off the face of the known world,” Foxfire finished. Even in the uncertain light, his skin had gone noticeably pale. Lady Swiftbrook covered her mouth with a trembling hand.
W’rath’s gaze traveled across the cavern of seemingly endless fungus, mineral formations and the magically created castle. “I have a good idea where they vanished to,” he said.
“We could search for months and still not find their bodies,” Raven said.
“With the help of a blood mage we could speed the process up to perhaps a few hours,” Lady Swiftbrook said. She appeared ill, almost faint.
“The question is, do we want to?” W’rath said, almost to himself. When the others protested, he shrugged and explained. “Say we find our missing Wood Elves. What then? It’s fairly obvious T’sane and Reaper had a hand in it, but did they act on their own? We have no way of knowing. I don’t relish a blanket of suspicion falling over every Shadow Elf because of what those two did. Frankly, it’s highly doubtful they acted without the blessing of the recently deceased Lord K’hul. The way they did everything in their power to ingratiate themselves to the Voice of the First means they probably acted on his orders. Of course, we’d have to prove that, and I’m confident making such an accusation, even with the assistance of a blood mage, would do even more harm.”
“So we do nothing?” Foxfire said, through clenched teeth.
“To what end? Both Shadow Elves perished, and I can testify to the fact they suffered. The First Born councilors also met their demise during the battle, so if one or both were involved, they’re beyond our ability to punish them.”
“I suppose,” Foxfire said. He stared across the cavern’s expanse as if he could will it to give up its secrets.
“Buck up, old boy, despite all of the horror we’ve discovered, you have reason for renewed hope.”