The Elven Apostate

by Sara C. Roethle

  Alluin wondered if he should warn him that Rissine had killed several Nokken who’d gone to the Capital, but it would undoubtedly do little good. The lad was already filled with turmoil.

  “So why did you run?” Elmerah asked. “If you love the Illuvian forests so deeply, why would you leave them?”

  Killian looked down at his lap. “I could see what was coming. The emperor’s threat was slowly tearing my people apart. Even my sister, Cheta, went to the Capital, and she was to become the next clan leader. Those who remained behind argued over what was right. Were we cowards to aid the emperor? Did we even deserve the forests if we could not protect them against such threats?”

  To Alluin, it sounded all too familiar. He’d spent his time in the Capital arguing with his uncle, and with the rest of his clan. Should they risk everything for a better life, or should they cower and do what was needed to keep the life they had?

  Killian was watching Celen, seemingly waiting for a reaction. When Celen said nothing, he asked, “Do you think me a coward?”

  Celen’s brows lifted. “Why does it matter what I think of you?”

  Killian shrugged, looking back down at his lap. He didn’t need to say out loud why it mattered, it was obvious to all that he looked up to Celen. Well, obvious to everyone but Celen himself, it seemed.

  Elmerah reached around Alluin’s back to pat Killian’s shoulder. “People are stupid. Clan leaders, Nokken, elves and Arthali, all horribly stupid. We cannot account for the actions of others, especially those in charge. We can only account for ourselves.”

  Killian’s head hung lower. “Yes, and I ran away.”

  “To find a better life for yourself.”

  Killian shrugged again, his head still hanging low. “I miss my sister. She was the only one who was ever kind to me. I thought once she led the clan, things would be better, but she left.”

  Elmerah didn’t seem to know what to do with that one. She retracted her hand from Killian’s shoulder, then nudged Alluin’s arm. “I did my best,” she whispered, “now you go.”

  Alluin sighed, thinking of his own sister. She might have allied herself with Rissine in the Capital, but when it came to life or death for her clan, she’d done the right thing.

  He couldn’t say that though. Killian’s sister was likely still working for the emperor if she’d gone to the Capital, or she might be dead.

  Celen spoke, saving him. “If you want to do the right thing, help us kill the emperor. He’s the whole reason you’re in this mess. Once he’s gone, you can go back to the forest, and maybe your sister will go with you.”

  Alluin eyed him sharply, but it was Elmerah who said, “He’s just a lad. He’s more a liability than anything.”

  Celen crossed his arms. “He’s Nokken. He can shapechange. Don’t you think that might come in handy? You’re so worried about going to the port, but Killian can simply make himself look human and march into any establishment he chooses. He can do the same at the Capital.”

  “He might be killed,” Elmerah hissed.

  Alluin didn’t dare point out that they’d already almost killed him.

  “I’ll do it,” Killian blurted. “Let me come with you, and I’ll do whatever you ask. I can change into anyone.”

  “Absolutely not,” Elmerah growled.

  Alluin wanted to agree with her, but . . . the outlook for them all was too dire. And why should Elmerah risk herself to reach the emperor, when having a shapechanger could facilitate a safer passage into the Capital? Killian could even infiltrate the Dreilore to find out Egrin’s exact location.

  Elmerah was looking at him, clearly waiting for him to agree.

  “I think we should let him come,” he decided. “We already turned away the help of your sister. We cannot continue making such choices.” He bit his tongue. He couldn’t say any more, couldn’t tell her how desperate he was. Saida might be gone, if he lost Elmerah too, he’d be well and truly alone, and utterly incapable of avenging the growing list of lives lost.

  Elmerah glared at him. “He is little more than a child.”

  “That’s not true,” Killian argued. “I’m of age. If I want to help kill the emperor, I’ll help kill the emperor.”

  Elmerah threw her hands up, tossing the bedroll away from her legs. “Fine! Let’s lose another innocent then. What does it matter now?”

  “We’re all part of this war, Ellie,” Celen lectured. “Whether we like it or not.”

  Realizing Celen’s face was lit more brightly than before, Alluin cast his eyes toward his boot-clad feet, growing warmer by the second. The campfire had blazed upward, though the wood beneath had diminished to embers.

  Elmerah seemed to notice it next, and the fire quickly died down.

  “Was that—” he began to ask.

  “It was simply the wind,” Elmerah hissed. “Now let’s get some rest while we still can.” She leaned back against the rotted out tree, crossed her arms, and closed her eyes.

  Alluin looked up to Celen, who stared worriedly at Elmerah. Had she stoked the fire with her magic by accident? He didn’t realize that was a possibility until now, but the panic in her voice while she chastised him supported the theory.

  “It’s been a long day and even longer night,” he said to Celen and Killian. He climbed out of his bedroll and came to his feet. “Take your turn at rest, Celen. I’ll stand watch.”

  Celen took Alluin’s previous spot next to Elmerah, then leaned over and whispered something in her ear.

  Her eyes still closed, she shook her head.

  Killian watched them both for a moment, then snuggled back down into his bedroll.

  Alluin stepped out into the darkness to keep watch, his thoughts all tangled like seaweed. He hadn’t forgotten what the Fogfaun had said about Elmerah’s magic. He didn’t even really know what it meant, but now was the absolute worst time for her to lose control. He hated that they needed to depend on her to defeat Egrin, but that didn’t make it any less true.

  * * *

  Saida

  Saida huddled near a roaring campfire, a coarse blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The fleeing Makali had left behind enough supplies for their party to survive, though she could summon no gratitude for the boon. Her group now camped at the far end of the oasis. Though there was now a small forest on the far side of the pool, the occasional sounds of the gokugam unnerved her. They’d gone fairly still since reaching the water, and according to Brosod, they’d rest there for several days, mostly draining the oasis before moving on to another.

  Saida glanced at Brosod, huddled at her side, seated in the rapidly cooling sand. Across the fire stood a few other elves talking with Malon, his silver hair naked to the moonlight, and the circlet upon his brow. She had a feeling he’d not be removing it again anytime soon, not after what had happened. He spoke in hushed tones to the other elves, and she wondered what he was saying. Phaerille had not been seen since the Makali fled.

  Saida shivered, disgusted with how easily Phaerille had tricked her.

  “You’re cold,” Brosod said, beginning to remove the blanket from her shoulders, though they were both near a blazing fire.

  Saida lifted a hand to stop her. “No, I am well, keep your blanket.”

  With a nod, Brosod’s pensive eyes stared into the flames.

  Saida watched her in her peripheral vision, wondering what she was feeling. Brosod had forsaken her entire clan when she helped Saida. Even though most Makali had not realized Urali’s intent, going against her was a death sentence. She still could not fully comprehend why Brosod had done so.

  “How did you know about the curse?” she asked softly. “You knew what Urali had done to me.”

  Brosod shrugged, her eyes on the blanket edges clasped tightly in her hands.

  “Brosod?”

  Her shoulders rose and fell with a deep inhale. “Because I hunted the animal for the curse.” Her eyes darted to Saida’s face. “I did not know what it was for, I swear it. Then I heard others whi
spering that you had fallen ill. The animal Urali wanted was a nightstinger. The coincidence was too great.”

  Saida considered her next words, unsure of how she felt about Brosod’s role in matters. “A nightstinger?” she asked finally.

  Brosod nodded. “A small scorpion, very deadly. The venom can be used to numb the skin if one is injured, but it can also be used for a specific curse which fills one’s mind and soul with darkness. The animal’s death is used to place power behind the curse.”

  Saida inhaled deeply. The curse was not Brosod’s fault. She’d simply done what Urali had asked of her. “Are there any longterm effects?”

  “No, if the subject of the curse manages to expel it from their body, which I assume you did as you are speaking to me now, the curse is ended.”

  Feeling eyes on her, Saida glanced past the fire to find Malon watching. Their eyes met. “Well that’s something at least,” she muttered distantly.

  “Once I realized what had been done, I knew it was upon me to make it right. You granted the desert life, and the Makali repaid you with a curse.”

  Malon looked away, and Saida turned her attention back to Brosod. “Consider us even, though I worry what you’ll do now. Can you return to your clan?”

  Brosod lifted her brows in surprise, then shook her head, raking long fingers through her short, onyx black hair. “I cannot return. An elder will be elevated to fill Urali’s place, and I would be put to death. No wise man or woman would allow a traitor to live for fear I’d act against the clan again.”

  “But you cannot survive on your own in the desert . . . ”

  Brosod’s lips pulled back into a tight, bitter smile, pressing her protruding lower canines against her upper lip. “I would rather be claimed by the desert, than to die for a crime that was not a crime at all. I’m more worried about you. You came here to form an army, but no Makali will follow you after what happened.”

  Saida pulled her blanket more tightly around her shoulders, looking across the fire toward Malon and the others, speaking too lowly for her to hear. “I never wanted an army, Brosod. I want to return to Faerune. If I do not reach my home before the full moon, Egrin Dinoba will kill my father.”

  “You should have enough supplies to make it, and with Malon, you are strong. I’m sure you can save them.”

  She nodded. After what she’d done to Urali, she almost believed Brosod’s words. “You could come with us. I know it would be a difficult life being away from your kin, but it would still be a life.”

  Brosod leaned forward, plucking up another brick of condensed fibers—a special craft of the Makali—to throw into the fire. “I would sooner approach one of the great cities. On my own, I may stand a small chance of being admitted.”

  Saida watched Brosod’s expression for any hints of a lie. “Do you truly believe that? They would take you in?”

  Brosod’s downward glance and shrug said that was likely not the case.

  She placed her hand on Brosod’s shoulder. “We’ll figure it out. You saved my life, now I will return the favor.”

  Both women looked up as Malon and Luc approached, leaving the other elves to rest for what remained of the night.

  “We will go to Hekala,” Malon announced. “We may have lost our Makali army, but the Lukali could still be convinced. We will grow them a great oasis in return for an army.”

  Brosod gasped.

  Saida merely sucked her teeth, she’d been prepared for this. “No, we will not. We’ve tried things your way, now we’ll do them mine. We will return to Faerune.”

  Malon crossed his arms. “I’ve told you my terms, Saida. I will not go without an army. If I returned to Faerune, the elves would put me to death, and if I defended myself with the circlet against any you care about, you would put me to death.”

  Saida stood, still clutching the blanket around her. She had to reach her father. “Then don’t go with me.”

  “If we part, Egrin will kill each of us and take the circlets.”

  “Then come to Faerune, and I will protect you.”

  Brosod rose and took a step back, her attention darting between Saida and Malon. With a considering look, Luc stepped back near her, separating himself from the impending argument.

  “Saida,” Malon said patiently, “we’ve been over this. We cannot return to Faerune without an army.”

  Words spilled from her mouth, revealing the thoughts which had plagued her since the start. It might be foolish, but deep down, she knew the only option. “Then we won’t return to Faerune. Let us go to the Capital and kill Egrin Dinoba. Once he is gone, we will no longer be bound to one another.”

  If she didn’t know any better, she’d think she’d hurt his feelings. He watched her for several heartbeats. “You want rid of me so badly, you would attempt to assassinate a demon?”

  She hesitated, unsure if she had the fortitude for such a task, then nodded sharply. If Malon would not return to Faerune, and she would not venture deeper into the desert, attacking Egrin at the Capital was the only choice.

  He considered her words for a moment, his reflective eyes glinting in the moonlight with his back to the fire. “And if we meet armies of Dreilore in our path?”

  “We cut them down.”

  “And human militia?”

  “The same.”

  Malon stepped toward her, reaching out for a brief moment, then let his hands fall. “I thought you unwilling to abuse the power of the gods.”

  His words made her heart sputter. She waited for the circlet at her belt to whisper in her mind, or for her conscience to object, but no hidden voices came. “I will defeat the emperor not for land, nor power, but to protect those who cannot protect themselves. Will you join me?”

  Malon lifted his brows. Brosod and Luc huddled near the fire, watching the conversation with seemingly bated breath.

  “Yes, Saida. That is a plan I could stand behind. Though I would prefer to do so with my army. Countless opponents stand between us and Egrin Dinoba. They will not be so easily overcome.”

  “We’ll find Elmerah first,” she suggested. “She will help.”

  Malon snorted. “You would place so much faith in a single witch?”

  A chill breeze gusted her back, as if it were pushing her forward, urging her down this new path. “I would place all the faith in the world in a single witch.”

  Malon looked to Luc, who shrugged, then looked back to her. “Is this just a trick to lure me into Faerune?”

  Another trickle of wind pulled a lock of hair free from the collar of her robe. This whole time she’d wanted to protect Faerune not only to save her father, but because Alluin and Elmerah might still be there. But would they be? Really, she shouldn’t have been worried about quite so many lives. Alluin and Elmerah would never rest idly on their laurels for so long.

  “Well?” Malon pressed. “Is it?”

  “I do not believe Elmerah is in Faerune,” she explained. “She wouldn’t have stayed behind after I was taken, and since she’s not here rescuing me, I know where she went.”

  Malon waited for her to continue.

  She hesitated. She hoped she was wrong, but if she knew her friend at all . . . “I think she’s going after Egrin herself. That was always the plan. And after you took me,” she shook her head, “she would not be aware that you were no longer working with Egrin. She’d assume you were taking me to him.”

  He tilted his head. “Then how do you propose we find her?”

  Now that, she did not know. Her mind had not yet raced that far ahead. Would Elmerah have sailed, or would she have gone on horseback? If Malon would not return to Faerune with her, she had no way of finding out. No way of tracking her at all.

  Brosod stepped forward from the shadows. “If this is a friend you know well, I may be able to help you locate her.”

  “How?” Malon demanded before Saida could speak.

  Brosod hunched her shoulders at his tone. “I may not be the most skilled curseworker in my clan, but if y
ou can supply the magic, I could guide you. If you know her energy well enough, you could track her.”

  Malon watched Brosod suspiciously, but Saida would not pass up an opportunity to find Elmerah, not even if it required a curse.

  She stepped away from Malon and toward Brosod. “You would travel with us, even out of the desert?”

  Brosod hung her head. “It is not a fate I would choose for myself, but if I can help you, I will do it.”

  Saida knew she was asking much. Brosod had lived her entire life in the desert, it might be harsh, but it was her home. Yet, what other choice did she have. “How soon can we start?”

  Brosod lifted her head, glancing warily at Malon and Luc, then turned back to Saida. “We can gather the materials tomorrow. It’s a simple curse, it should not even require a sacrifice. Once we have all we need, we can cast it the next night by moonlight.”

  “And how can we trust this curse will not harm us if we cast it?” Malon asked.

  “It would not harm you,” Brosod said patiently, “because you will not be the caster. It must be Saida, as this woman you hope to find is her friend.”

  “So it could possibly harm me?” Saida asked.

  Brosod nodded. “All curses come with risks. To wield unnatural powers is to risk those powers turning on you.” She glanced at the circlet at Saida’s belt. “But you seem able to manage such things.”

  “I’ll do it.”

  “Saida,” Malon cautioned. “You’ve known this woman a day. Do not give your trust so easily.”

  She met Brosod’s waiting gaze, then said to Malon, “I trust her. Tomorrow we will head north, and gather the needed ingredients along the way. We will not proceed with an army, but we will have the only person who has ever come close to defeating Egrin Dinoba.”