The Elven Apostate

by Sara C. Roethle

  Egrin lifted his hand, snapped his fingers, and he and the two remaining Dreilore disappeared in a cloud of darkness.

  Saida pulled her hand from Malon’s, fell on her knees in the sand, then vomited. She came up with just a trickle of bile, but heaved for a long while. What had she done? Had she given the circlet to Egrin, he wouldn’t have turned his sights back to Faerune. He wouldn’t be set on going after her father, Elmerah, and everyone else.

  She rocked on her knees in the sand. “We have to go back,” she wheezed. “We have to protect them.”

  She felt a hand on her shoulder and quickly shrugged it off, but it returned, this time more forcefully. “Saida,” Malon soothed, “he would have gone after them regardless. At least this has bought them time, until the full moon. By then I will have carried out my task, and no demons, nor Dreilore or elves, will be able to stand against us.

  Her body shook with silent sobs. She didn’t know what to believe. She didn’t know what to do to protect her father and her friends.

  She especially didn’t know what had just happened to her. The magic that had filled her had been pure moonlight, and she could have sworn that deep within it, the goddess Cindra had called her name.

  * * *

  Isara

  They’d made it out of the city, and had survived the woods at night. The sunrise caressed Isara’s face, this day feeling strange and new to her. Perhaps the gods had not abandoned her after all.

  Elmerah and Celen were both talented magic users, and Alluin was fast and deadly with blade and bow. If she were to ever have vengeance for her father’s death, these three would be the ones to grant it.

  She stroked her horse’s mane, tuning out the sounds of Alluin and Celen bickering. She had hardened her heart, knowing her cousin must be stopped. If Egrin truly was a demon, he had to die. But not Daemon. He was as much demon as she, if they were demons at all. She had her own form of magic, but her brother had presented no such gifts. He could still be saved.

  Unfortunately, Elmerah would kill him if given the chance. She could not let that happen. It hurt her heart even more than the idea of killing her own cousin, but if Elmerah tried to harm Daemon, she would turn against her. Suppressing even Shadowmarsh magic would be easy.

  She sighed, then deeply inhaled the fresh morning air, heavily scented with forest loam and pine. Galterra was a long way off. She still had time to convince Elmerah that Daemon should be spared.

  The sound of twigs snapping not far off caught her attention. She tensed, wondering what sort of large creature was passing through the woods. She’d worry about her brother later. He was safe from Elmerah, for now. As for herself and her current companions, the long and perilous journey forward was just beginning.

  Rissine

  Rissine flexed her fingers, longing to wring the tiny Akkeri’s neck. He blinked up at her with elven eyes surrounded by sallow skin, his hair little more than wisps of decayed fiber barely holding on to his scalp.

  She’d always found Akkeri disgusting, and this one was no exception. Except for the strange way he didn’t try to kill her. In fact, his eyes held intelligence, and far more calm than she’d ever possessed.

  And here she was, threatening him in a private room within the healer’s apothecary. He’d remained seated in his small wooden chair, not a threat at all.

  She stepped back, almost ashamed for looming over him in such a manner.

  Seeming to note her calm, he spoke, his words slurred and odd, as if his tongue didn’t work quite right. “As I have said, Saida is friend. Elmerah and Alluin are hardly known to me.”

  Her anger surged. “You’re lying. You traveled with them. I saw you off on your journey just south of Galterra.”

  “I was unconscious much of that. At Valeroot camp, only Saida visits.”

  She slumped into an empty adjacent chair, stretching her long legs out across the white stone floor. He’d offered her the chair, more than once, but only now did she deign to take it.

  The rest of the small whitewashed room was barren, reeking of herbs and ash. She’d been told Merwyn came here daily, receiving different herbs to perhaps regain some of his strength . . . though she imagined he’d never been terribly strong to being with.

  “Did they tell you she was taken?” she asked, hoping to raise some emotion in him, if only to loosen the information she truly desired.

  Merwyn’s head lowered. “I regret I could not be there to protect her.”

  It was difficult not to laugh in his face. As if this tiny creature could have protected the priestess better than she and Elmerah.

  “Saida must have known Elmerah’s plans,” she began anew. “Perhaps she would have mentioned to you where she’d go when she left here.”

  Merwyn shook his head. “Saida not visit much since mother was killed.”

  Rissine sighed. “You know, if you’re to live amongst these pompous elves, you should learn to speak properly.”

  He didn’t seem to have anything to say to that, and only stared at her.

  What a waste of time. She would have been better off joining the trackers searching for the fugitives.

  A knock near the open doorway drew her attention.

  Ivran stood just outside, his red-rimmed eyes made painfully obvious by his round spectacles. “A word, Rissine?”

  She raised her brows, having initially assumed he was there to see the Akkeri. She stood, then looked down at the small creature. “If you think of anything useful, send word for me at the inn.”

  Merwyn nodded, seeming relieved that she was leaving him. She began to turn away.

  “Rissine,” he called out.

  She turned back to him.

  He had risen from his chair, and was even shorter than she’d imagined. “If you search for Elmerah, you bring me? Elmerah will find Saida.”

  She looked him up and down.

  “He’s more formidable than he looks, even with his body and organs damaged by toxins,” Ivran said to her back. “He has saved my daughter more than once. If he could help her now, I’d ask you to take him.”

  She turned back to Ivran. “Who says I’m going anywhere?”

  He lifted his brows. “Aren’t you?”

  Stupid elves and Akkeri. She was sick of them all. “What do you want?” she hissed at him. “Why have you come to find me?”

  He stepped back, and she wished she hadn’t spoken so harshly. She was used to dealing with pirates and thugs, and had begun to lack talent in the more tactful ways of speech.

  She peered both ways down the empty hallway, then lowered her voice. “Alright, yes, I am going after her. Do you know where she has gone?”

  Ivran straightened his already straight spectacles, a pause to regain his composure she suspected. “The last time Elmerah and I spoke was when she told me Malon had taken my daughter, to where, she did not know. I believe in Elmerah’s mind, the next logical step would be to find the one person who might know Malon’s plan. His most powerful ally.”

  “Egrin Dinoba,” Rissine sighed. “You believe she’s heading to Galterra? Not back to Skaristead to look for Saida’s trail?”

  He nodded. “She would not have left Skaristead if there was a trail to be found, and she and Alluin ransacked my cupboards for supplies. Enough supplies to last a long journey.”

  Her shoulders slumped. “And they stole horses too. All to escape without anyone knowing where they went. If she was openly going after Saida, she could have just said as much. An entourage would have been sent along with her. That she wanted to avoid that means that she must be doing something no one would allow her to do on her own.”

  Ivran nodded.

  Rissine’s jaw tightened, realizing she should have seen right to the heart of Elmerah’s plan from the start. Her sister was irrational where her emotions were concerned, and she hadn’t taken the priestess’ abduction well.

  “I should have seen this coming,” she admitted. “Elmerah can act rashly. Though on the outside she could give
up the search for your daughter, she’d never be able to let it go, and all paths lead to Egrin.”

  “You couldn’t have known,” Ivran soothed.

  But Rissine was beyond soothing. She should have tasked other Arthali to watch her sister through the night.

  Merwyn had crept up to her side. Both the Akkeri and Ivran looked up at her, waiting for her response.

  Her brow furrowed. Elmerah had already ridden for a full night and morning. There would be no catching up to her. The only thing she could do to stop her, was to reach Galterra first.

  She turned to Ivran. “Can you give the orders to ready my ship?”

  He nodded. “I believe I can manage that.”

  She turned to Merwyn, debating her next words. He was small and weak, useless, but he had somehow managed to survive this long. “Meet me at the docks. You’re coming with.”

  “My thanks.” With a bob of his head, Merwyn hurried past her down the hall, his scuttling movements restricted by the plain elven tunic and breeches.

  Ivran continued watching her. “You will sail to Galterra?”

  “I’m not a fool. I will sail to Port Aeluvaria, and catch Elmerah along the way.”

  “You will stop her from killing the emperor?”

  Killing the emperor. Killing a demon. Just how did Elmerah plan to manage such a feat? “I will keep her alive. Elmerah alive is your best chance of rescuing your daughter, and my best chance of keeping the only family I have.”

  “What about gathering more Arthali?”

  She fidgeted, knowing she should keep her next words to herself, but they had weighed upon her so heavily, she could bear them alone no longer. “There are no more Arthali to gather. I have spoken to all the clans. Those I brought with me were the ones willing to fight.”

  Ivran’s jaw dropped. “But—” he seemed to search for the right words. “But why would you tell us more allies were coming? Why promise us an army?”

  “Would the High Council have allied themselves with me if they knew?”

  “No,” he breathed. “No they would not. The Arthali in your company are strong, but not as strong as you or Elmerah. They can offer us little additional protection.”

  Her anger returned. A familiar warmth. “If you tell anyone, I will prevent Elmerah from finding your daughter.”

  He furrowed his brow. “There is no need for threats, Rissine. I would not divulge your secret.”

  “Why?”

  He stood a little straighter, though his haggard appearance made him seem old and tired. “Solana believed in my daughter, and my daughter believes in Elmerah. And as much as she’d like us to think differently, Elmerah believes in you.” He stepped away. “I’ll have your ship prepared. Do not let me down.”

  He turned away and stepped down the hall. Stunned, she watched his back, feeling an unfamiliar sensation in her heart. Perhaps because he thought Elmerah believed in her. Or perhaps this feeling was the beginnings of madness. She was not sure which, but despite Ivran being a blustering Faerune noble, she would abide by his terms.

  She would not let him down.

  * * *

  Elmerah

  “We should rest,” Celen groaned. “We have ridden down many stream beds, and crossed rocky ground. The trackers will not find us now.”

  “We cannot risk it. If Rissine finds us—” Elmerah cut herself off. She had not just run from Rissine, but from the High Council. If this mission were to be successful, no spies could be present to alert Egrin. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself. Deep down she knew, that like Alluin, she’d run from the digging, clawing memories of the past. She’d run from Rissine because their relationship could never be resolved.

  “She’ll what?” Celen pressed, then gripped his reins as his horse stumbled over a loose stone. “What do you really think Rissine would do if she found us?”

  “She wouldn’t help us kill the emperor, if that’s what you’re implying.”

  Alluin and Isara remained silent behind them, thankfully, and she hoped her words did not ring as hollow to them as they did to her. Had she been unwise to leave Rissine behind? Would she have helped them?

  She sealed her mouth shut. It didn’t matter now. What was done, was done.

  “Even if we can go on without rest,” Celen continued, “the horses can’t. It is only a matter of time before one breaks an ankle. They need a reprieve, preferably by a stream so they can drink their fill.”

  They’d passed by many streams already. If she were a good leader, they would have stopped by one. But she’d never claimed to be any sort of leader, let alone a good one. “Fine, next stream, we stop. But if Rissine finds us, I will sacrifice you to enable our escape.”

  At the sound of distant running water, Celen tugged his reins to the right, directing his horse eastward. “I’ll sacrifice myself if it means you’ll stop acting like a sandcrab.”

  She didn’t reply, and before long they reached the stream and dismounted. Elmerah’s rump ached, and her skin itched from the dust. After she’d tied her horse’s reins loose enough that the beast could drink and graze, she walked to a rocky area along the stream and knelt.

  She removed her black coat, shaking away as much dust as she could, though it would never be as good as new again. Draping her coat across the dry rocks, she knelt and splashed icy water on her face and neck.

  “Ilthune curse us,” she muttered as her muscles spasmed from the cold, “you’d think this water is melted snow.”

  “It probably is,” Alluin said from behind her. “These streams run all the way down from the Akenyth Province, where they experience heavy snows in winter.”

  “My thanks for the geography lesson,” she said caustically as she stood, flicking cool droplets from her fingers. She looked past him. “Wait, where are Celen and Isara? They were just over there a moment ago.”

  Alluin whipped around, scanning the seemingly peaceful forest, then turned back to her, his eyes wide. “Fossegrim?”

  She shook her head, then leaned down to fetch her coat. “Celen would not fall victim to a Fossegrim’s song, at least not so quickly, and we’d see them both asleep on the ground.”

  Donning her coat, she walked back toward the horses with fingertips brushing her cutlass. All four horses were still tethered near the stream, but the two riders were missing. She reached the horses and looked further downstream, while Alluin knelt and looked at the ground for tracks.

  “Their bootprints circle around the horses,” he observed, “but don’t lead off anywhere. It’s as if they disappeared into thin air.”

  She ventured a bit further downstream. “Not possible. Celen is far too heavy to flutter away.”

  Alluin snorted at her sarcasm, but most of his focus remained on the bank. “They didn’t cross.”

  She walked a little farther, then stopped. She was no tracker, but even she could see that no tracks led off in this direction. She turned back to Alluin and the horses.

  Alluin was gone.

  “Son of a mireling dungbug!” She stormed back toward the horses, unwilling to let them disappear too. “Who or whatever you are, come out and face me!”

  She was ready to draw her cutlass in an instant, but no man nor creature revealed itself. The horses stamped their hooves in the thick stream-side grass, but did not seem overly alarmed.

  Elmerah looked around the forest, but all was silent. She had no idea what to do. It really was as if they had all disappeared into thin air. She paced around the horses, searching for anything that might seem amiss, wracking her brain for what could have happened. Not Fossegrim, not trolls, nor a wyrm or wyvern. All would have been more obvious in their attack. So would elves, Dreilore, or any other humanoid races. She didn’t know these forests well enough to come up with any more possibilities.

  She looked up at the sun beating down overhead. She could take the horses and ride on, but if the others returned, they would have no mounts, nor any way of finding her. The other option was to wait, and hope
the culprit would return for her too so she could kill it and rescue her friends.

  She plopped down in the grass and prepared to wait. She could only hope this cowardly man or creature would not take too long, and that her friends weren’t already dead. If Rissine learned she’d only made it this far before failing her mission, she’d never hear the end of it.

  Alluin

  Alluin walked down the narrow path, his eyes wide as he stared at the creature’s back. With him walked Isara and Celen, who’d both been waiting with the . . . he shook his head, unable to believe his eyes. If the myths were real, he was staring at the back of a Fogfaun. Fogfauns’ upper halves were human, a bit on the small side, with dark gleaming onyx skin. Their gray furry lower halves had hooves like an antlioch’s.

  Celen leaned in near Alluin’s shoulder. “Where is it taking us? And where is Elmerah?”

  Alluin shook his head. He hadn’t even felt himself being taken, he was just suddenly on this path with Isara and Celen.

  Isara glanced at them both, her eyes huge and wide behind her spectacles. Her curly blonde hair frothed around her face, adding to her befuddled appearance. “The Fogfaun will only come to a realm in great peril. They are harbingers of the end.”

  “Then what does it want with us?” Celen hissed.

  Isara pointed ahead. “Look, there are more of them.”

  Sure enough, five more Fogfaun waited in the forest ahead, peeking sheepishly around the trunks of aspen and white birch. Shaggy gray hair framed their human-like faces, narrow and delicate, with pure black eyes and skin just a shade lighter. One was female, and it was immediately apparent these creatures felt little sense of modesty.

  The Fogfaun leading them stopped and turned around. “You travel with a weather worker,” it said, surprising him with words in the common tongue.

  “Elmerah?” he blurted, still in shock. “Have you done something to her?” If these creatures were harbingers of the end, as Isara had claimed, then were they all in peril?