And now, as he wandered along the boundary, he would pause every so often, looking up at the trees, staring at the canopy, feeling as if he weren’t alone, though he knew he was. There weren’t many people who took the time to wander out of the city—only members of the guild, and then only when it was their turn to inspect the borders.
At one of the heartstone rods, he paused and checked to ensure the integrity of it. It wasn’t his assignment, and he wasn’t even sure he would be able to identify if there was something wrong with it. His father had been the one to place this barrier, and they needed more like him, not more like Haern. He didn’t really have a role the way so many others did.
Oh, he could serve the guild. With his connection to lorcith, he certainly could work with the smith guild, and he had, but he didn’t have the necessary connection—or desire—to continue to use lorcith the way so many of the smiths did. And with his limited abilities granted by the Great Watcher, there wasn’t much else for him.
He felt like an outsider even within his home.
It had never struck him quite like this, and maybe he wouldn’t have paid much attention to it had they not left the city, searching for his father, giving Haern an opportunity to experience more of the world. Since his return, everything had felt a little different. It shouldn’t—and he knew there was nothing he could do about it—but training with Galen had given him the chance to learn more, to try and become more, and even in that, he realized he was an outsider. It was possible that was because Galen himself had been an outsider for so long, his exile having made him one. He might be more a part of the Elvraeth than the ruling family within Elaeavn now, but that hadn’t always been the case.
Haern ran his hand along the boundary. It was a physical thing, though not visible, even with his enhanced Sight. It was something that he could feel. The barrier pressed upon him, a soft and gentle sizzling, an energy that wouldn’t restrict his ability to cross over it but made it so that all within Elaeavn were aware of its presence. It was a separation, a way of keeping outsiders from reaching Elaeavn, of deterring them, of guiding them away from the rest of the forest. Somehow, the barrier even masked those within it.
There was power here, and he had no idea how his father managed to manipulate that power. It seemed like magic as much as anything else. What his father did was so much more like the abilities of the Forgers.
Haern froze. As he stood there, he wondered. Could his father use abilities similar to the Forgers’? Could that be how he had augmented himself?
He’d never given it much thought before, especially as everyone knew his father was so incredibly gifted with his Great Watcher abilities, but some of his talents were different from those of even the strongest guild members.
And if his father had those abilities, why would he conceal them? Why not offer them to others?
Haern had seen how powerful people from Elaeavn could become when augmented by those abilities. Having witnessed the changes in Lucy, he knew those abilities were formidable.
Movement caught his eye. There was a sound nearby.
Haern froze, Galen’s training kicking in, helping him to think through what he had heard. He tried not to move, thankful he still wore the dark green cloak that would help him blend into the forest. Anyone with enhanced eyesight might be able to recognize that he was there, but if they didn’t, his lack of movement would hopefully keep him from being seen.
The sound came again.
It was a rustling of leaves, nothing more than that, and he scanned in the direction of the sound.
It came from the other side of the barrier.
Haern remained motionless. He should be hidden, but the barrier might not be effective; relying on it might not be smart. He was willing to wait and see if anything else appeared.
It was a good thing his father continued to work on fortifying the barrier. With the added protections, they didn’t have to fear that someone else would find them.
The sound came again, this time even closer.
Haern stared, looking through the barrier, wishing he could pull the hood of his cloak up to conceal himself even better, but not wanting to risk the movement until he knew for certain. Though he didn’t think he was visible, it was possible that he was wrong.
Slowly, a figure came into view.
Haern’s breath caught.
He recognized the cut of the jacket and the embroidery along the lapel. More than that, he recognized the man wearing it.
A Forger.
It was the same Forger he and Galen had captured, but what was he doing out in the forest and approaching Elaeavn?
Would he recognize that Haern was here?
Hopefully his father’s additions to the barrier were enough to ensure that he didn’t, but if he did recognize Haern, would he attack?
Haern reached for his connection to the lorcith, wishing he had come up with other knives before now, weapons that might be even more beneficial. If the Forgers attacked, his knives might not be enough.
Yet as much as Galen wanted him to learn to use other weapons, there was a benefit in using the lorcith. He could control it, which meant he didn’t have to move, and the better control he had over it, the more he could manipulate it, without even maneuvering himself.
And maybe he didn’t need to use knives at all.
Could he change the shape of lorcith, forge it into something smaller that would hold some of Galen’s poisons?
It would be a question for another time, but if he could use a similar technique, he might be able to avoid injury. He didn’t have to throw darts the way Galen did. He could direct them with his control over lorcith.
The Forger continued to move parallel to the barrier.
Was the Forger aware of it? It was possible he could feel it the same way Haern could, though from what his father had said, the barrier should only be detected by those of Elaeavn, and only when they were on this side of it. On the other side of the barrier, it should do nothing more than push them away, encourage them to head deeper into the forest, away from the heart of the Aisl and the people of Elaeavn.
The Forger came close to Haern. He practically stopped directly across from him, and through the barrier, Haern could smell the other man.
There was something smoky and foul about him. He rubbed his hand along his cheek, pressing his fingers into a scar that ran along there. He looked practically straight at Haern, and his gaze drifted over him as if he weren’t there.
The barrier held.
If he managed to return to the city, he would have to let his father know that it seemed his barrier worked. Haern was tempted to simply attack. He could push one of his lorcith knives through the barrier, cut down the Forger, and bring him back to the Aisl to determine why he was here.
“Have you found anything?” This voice came from deeper in the forest on the other side of the barrier.
Haern tensed. There was another one.
“There is something here. I can almost make it out, though I can’t quite tell why,” the Forger closest to him said.
If he was aware of it, then perhaps his father’s barrier wasn’t as secure as they had hoped.
“You’re imagining it. You want there to be something here.”
“It was easier to find the last time.”
“We knew Lareth would make it more difficult, especially if he discovered our presence.”
The Forger across from Haern turned away, peering into the depths of the forest—away from Elaeavn. “We should be able to detect what was done to the Elder Trees.”
“We should, but we can’t. Come on. We will continue this search.”
The Forger lingered for a moment, practically staring at Haern, before he tore his gaze away and continued to head along the barrier for another dozen or so steps before veering off. It was possible the Forger didn’t even know why he was veering off, only that he did. The pressure from the barrier would have pushed him away.
Haern stood frozen in place u
ntil he was certain they were gone.
It was one thing to know the Forgers would return, and quite another to come face-to-face with one.
He needed to let his father know what had happened. More than that, he needed to increase his training. It was time to become as proficient as he could in as short a time as possible.
6
Ryn
The wind sweeping off the massive mountain in the distance sent snow swirling into the air, twisting it so that it was difficult to see anything other than the resulting haze. Despite the snow swirling around, Ryn wasn’t cold. The heavy cloak she’d been given prevented the overwhelming chill from creeping in, and she was thankful for it. Still, she wrapped her arms around herself, pushing away any remnant of cold.
Olandar Fahr glanced down at her. There was something warm, caring, about the way he looked at her. Ever since he’d stumbled upon her, helped her to her feet, he had guided her and given her a place. She was thankful for it, much like she was thankful that he had stayed with her. After everything she’d lost, she wasn’t sure she could handle losing something more.
“Do you see it?” he asked.
His voice was deep, a sonorous and welcoming sort of timbre, and she wanted nothing more than to appease him. Still, as she peered into the distance, trying to see what he wanted to show her, she didn’t know what he wanted her to perceive.
“Is it the mountain?”
“While the mountain is impressive, that’s not quite what I was hoping you would observe.”
They were in the middle of a frozen plain, and other than the mountain, she didn’t observe anything. Olandar Fahr asked her the same questions, always wanting to know what she might see. It was something about what she could observe that mattered to him, though she wasn’t quite sure what that might be. Power, perhaps. That was the promise he’d made to her. He had told her that if she went with him, if she worked with him, she would learn what she needed to gain the vengeance she sought.
Ryn stared through the snow, hoping she could make out something more this way. Other than the mountain, though, there wasn’t much that she could clearly see.
It would disappoint him, and that was the thing she hated most of all. She couldn’t stand the idea that she would disappoint him.
“I’m sorry. All I see is the mountain with the snow around it. There’s darkness up along the surface of the mountain, so I don’t know if that’s a cave or something else but… I’m sorry.”
He pulled his gaze away from her, staring into the distance, his brow furrowing just a little. He was a powerful man, and much younger than she had thought when she had first come across him. Now that she knew him as she did, she suspected he had only been weary from his travels, and that was what had made him look like an older man. Unlike her, he was dressed only in a jacket and pants and seemed unmindful of the chill in the air.
“You did well,” he said softly.
“I did?”
“It can be difficult to observe in this place. There is something about it that makes it difficult.”
“Why?”
“This was once a place of much significance. Come, and let me show you.”
He held on to her hand, and with little more than a flicker, they traveled.
Ryn still hadn’t adjusted to the way that Olandar Fahr could travel. It reminded her of what she’d seen from Lareth. It was a powerful means of moving, one where he didn’t have to walk, to trudge across the ground, and she could easily imagine how much it would have helped her to be able to move this way when she had been running from her burning village.
They emerged within the swirling wind. No longer was the threat of cold merely a threat. Now the wind burrowed beneath her cloak, biting shards of ice slashed at her cheeks and exposed hands, and she shrunk within her cloak, trying to bring it around her shoulders and gain whatever warmth she could. It was difficult for her to do.
As usual, Olandar Fahr didn’t seem to be bothered by the wind or the cold, and he strode forward, working his way along a rocky path that she hadn’t even noticed from afar. It was narrow, and it left her wondering what would have happened had he made a misstep as he’d traveled. Then again, Olandar Fahr never made missteps. He was incredibly skilled.
“Follow me, little one,” he said.
She smiled and hurried after him. If there was something he wanted to show her here, she would see it. The path wound up the face of the mountain, and she soon realized that Olandar Fahr had taken them to the safest place he could have traveled, where it was wider, several paces across. But as she followed him up the face of the mountain, the path narrowed. She found herself scrambling up rock, reaching for handholds and struggling, partly because of the cold and her desire to wrap her hands in the sleeves of her cloak.
“Wouldn’t it be better for you to travel us where we need to go?” she asked. She hated to question Olandar Fahr, but he had shown a willingness to answer, and she thought it was important for her to understand why he chose to walk from here.
He paused, waiting for her to catch up. “Sometimes the journey is as important as the destination,” he said.
“What is it about the journey here that is important?”
“Perhaps nothing. It is difficult, and you do well to follow as much as you have. If you find that you struggle, let me know and I will give you a hand.”
They continued to work their way up around the mountain. The wind shifted as they went, sliding around rocks, swirling up in strange ways that tugged at her cloak, pulling at her hair, threatening to push her from the side of the mountain itself. The snow never stopped biting at her cheeks. After a while, they grew numb, and she was less aware of the cold. Eventually, the narrow path ended, leaving little more than handholds for them to grasp along the face of the mountain. Ryn grabbed on to these, working her way along the face. It reminded her of the way she had climbed in Vuahlu. There was the volcano, Maunial, but she had also spent many days scrambling up the trees, using her fingers for grip, and this was a similar technique. There was the same threat of falling if her fingers were to slip.
Olandar Fahr glanced back at her, watching as she wound along the rock. When he saw her making her way, he nodded before continuing onward.
Ryn lost track of how long they went. At one point, a particularly strong gust of wind struck her, and she threw herself forward, squeezing the rock, prepared for the inevitability of a fall, but it never came.
When her heart finally settled, she moved onward. It seemed like hours passed before they reached another path.
When she stepped out on it, the tension that had filled her began to ease.
“That should be the worst of it,” Olandar Fahr said. They made quicker time, winding around the mountain until they were up within the clouds.
Olandar Fahr paused, staring along the rocky face. “Can you feel it?”
“The wind or something else?”
“Something else.”
She waited, expecting some obvious sense that she should detect, but despite her interest, there was nothing. Whatever Olandar Fahr wanted of her, she could not reach it.
“I can’t.”
It felt like a failing, as if she were disappointing him, and though she knew it shouldn’t, that Olandar Fahr had never made her believe she needed to follow him in a specific way, she couldn’t shake the sense that she needed to be able to detect what he did. If she couldn’t, then she failed him.
“Perhaps not yet, but I have faith that you will.” He turned and looked down at her. “Do you have faith?”
When she was with him, it was easy for her to have such faith. She nodded. “I do.”
He strode forward, and as they turned around the rock, he stepped inside a cave.
Ryn followed, realizing it was the same cave entrance she had seen from the ground below, and wondered why they had needed to climb along the side of the mountain rather than simply traveling here. What was it about the journey that he thought would benefit her?
“What do you see?” he asked.
“Darkness. Shadows.”
“They are both here.”
“What else should I be able to see?”
“Come,” he said.
She followed him, tracking him by the sound of his voice. As she went, she looked around, searching for anything that would give her a sense of what he wanted her to find. There had to be something, as she doubted that Olandar Fahr would’ve brought her here unless there was something for her to uncover.
As she went, the light within the cave began to change. There seemed to be a faint glow, a hint of orange, coming from someplace deep within the mountain.
The air grew slightly warmer.
“A volcano,” she whispered.
He turned back toward her, and now she could see him more easily. “Very good.”
“Why here?”
“There should be something else here,” he said.
The cave opened wider, and she stopped. This time, it had nothing to do with the cold or fear or anything like that. She remained in place because of the shock of what she saw.
It no longer looked to be a cave that stretched in front of her. Instead, an enormous domed ceiling rose overhead, covered with tile, the detail on the tile so exquisite that she could imagine artisans had worked at it for decades. The tile extended along the walls, covered with patterns and symbols and writing she couldn’t understand.
“What is this place?”
“It’s a place of ancient power.”
“And why did you bring me here?”
The Elder Stones Saga Boxset: Books 1-3 Page 60