I hesitated, my foot on the first step of the stairway. I should flee upward, now. If I climbed far enough I’d find a way back to the yellow corridor and safety. I took another step up. The humming was close now, maybe a dozen feet above me. I took another tentative step up, before jumping back and running headlong down the darkened corridor.
A shock passed over me, as if I had just run through some sort of barrier, and the sensation of magic I’d felt dissipated as I raced down the passageway.
I kept my hand running along the right wall as the bleak illumination failed the farther I ran. I skidded to a halt as my hand met open air. A cross corridor! Thank the Maker.
I crouched around the corner, peering back up at a dark figure halted at the mouth of the corridor. My heart was in my throat. Please go up. Please go up.
I was over a hundred feet down in the darkness, so I couldn’t make out the features of the figure. It was stupid, I know, but I thought the figure looked straight at me for the briefest moment before disappearing up the emerald staircase.
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, and stood up on trembling legs. Shadow cloaked everything, but as I turned around I saw the crossroads I stood at. Maybe it was symbolic. I giggled, a reaction to the fading fear.
The sensation I had felt earlier as I’d stood at the entrance to the corridor had completely gone, and the air was deathly still. As my heart rate steadied, I felt an oppressive weight settle on my shoulders. I stood in the right branch of the crossroads, but opposite me lay another staircase that fell down to the roots of the plateau on which the Citadel lay. The darkness, the weight, seemed to flow outward, threatening to suffocate me while simultaneously drawing me in.
A peculiar feeling washed over me as I stood on the top step of the staircase. The oppression lessened immediately, and a voice whispered at the back of my mind, the words just out of reach.
Suddenly, the warning flashed in my memory. You will know when you approach an area where you should not. When this happens, simply turn around and walk a different way.
I was certain this was such a place, but the pull was irresistible. I’d felt it as soon as I crossed the threshold back at the fork, but my terror had masked it until now. I’d already intruded in forbidden territory. What was another step?
My foot left the top step before I knew what I was doing. It hovered above the one below when the hair on the back of my neck prickled upright again. A scraping sound, like bone rubbing over rock, rose from below. A scent of spice mixed with sulfur filled the air, and before I could react, a blast of heat blew me off my feet. I flew through the air, landing on the stone floor and skidding across it to smack my head against the wall.
My tongue felt like wool in my mouth. Maker, my head hurt. The ground below my back was cold and hard. Had I passed out on the floor of my rooms again? What had Lyssa done to me this time? But no, the surface under my fingers was smooth, not the rough rock of my rooms.
Maker! I sat bolt upright, a stab of pain causing stars to float across my sight. I’m in so much trouble. I rubbed the back of my head, wincing as my fingers ran over a painful lump. That didn’t concern me, and even the dark staircase and whatever lay at the bottom of it was forgotten as I stumbled to my feet and ran clumsily to the mouth of the corridor.
The green staircase went up, but I didn’t have a clue where it led, so I ran as fast as I could back up the widening tunnel I’d come down, gulping as much air as I could into my lungs. My muscles were fire and my breath was lava as the sweat streamed down my face.
A glow came from above, and as it got brighter my heart sank. Sunlight blazed as I emerged into the yellow corridor. The sun crested the horizon. To my left two servants were walking away from me. Maker, that was close. I immediately turned away, calming my burning lungs as best I could. If I’d run out five seconds earlier I’d have knocked them off their feet.
My head threatened to erupt with the thunder of my pulse as I darted into the archway leading back up. Forty steps and I stood in the hallway. Thank the Maker it was still deserted. I took the steps to my rooms two, three at a time. There. My door. I hit it at a run, bursting in to fall face down on the cot. Nothing had felt that good in an age. I savored even the meager comfort provided by the thin mattress, and the cool air chilled the heat of my muscles. I knew I didn’t have much time and this would be a long day, but for now I just lay still.
“You seem to have had a busy night, child.”
I stiffened, a shiver of panic running up my spine.
The deep gravelly voice filled the room. “I think you’ll find that if you rub a little of that salve you have hidden in the wardrobe on your legs, you will soon feel much better.”
How? How could he know…unless—I turned, my body groaning in protest. I wasn’t prepared for the short, squat figure sitting on the stool beside the door. His hair was a deep red and braided like his beard. Beneath the beard, his face was the color and texture of red sandstone, but the face was alive and smiling at me.
“Here, let me fetch it for you.” He got up and walked to the wardrobe. He wore a deep green robe that stretched down to his ankles, and he stood about four feet tall. He actually had to stretch up on his toes to reach the hiding place on the top shelf to retrieve the container.
He held it out to me, his eyes twinkling with mirth. I still hadn’t moved. I was in shock, and my muscles trembled from the exertion of running up so many steps.
“Here, allow me.” He knelt beside the cot, opened the container, and rubbed a small amount on the back of my right calf. The relief was heavenly, the warmth spreading up to banish the pain and stiffness in seconds. He did the same to the other leg, chuckling at my sighs of relief, then returned the container to its hiding place in the wardrobe.
“Thank you.”
He shrugged. “’Tis nothing, child. A simple balm created by my people to heal you soft skins.”
Understanding hit me like a wave. “It was you, wasn’t it? You were the one who put me into bed that first night.”
Another wide grin split his face, revealing shiny pointed teeth. “Yes, ’twas I. Well, I have been on the receiving side of Lyssa’s temper before, you see, although it was a particularly vicious thing she did, taking your wings.” He bowed deeply before me, his face now grave. “I am sorry for that.”
I sat upright and swung my legs to rest my feet on the floor. My head reeled. “You’re a dwelf.” My face heated. “Sorry, it’s just I’ve never seen one of your people before, just read about them…sorry, I mean, read about you.”
He pulled the stool closer to the bed and sat down, his eyes gleaming with good humor. “Aye, ’tis a long time hence that a dwelf has walked the forest, and even longer since a faerie visited the mountain kingdom. But, yes, child, I am a dwelf.” He stood up and bowed again. Dwelves seemed to do a lot of that. “My name is Hoggan, and I am at your service.”
It all felt very formal, so I did what I hoped was the right and proper thing to do and got up to bow as well. “I am Jesaela, and I am at yours.”
Hoggan chuckled. “My, who’d have ever thought a faerie and a dwelf would be saying this to one another.”
I smiled. It was true that there was no love lost between our two races, but Hoggan definitely seemed friendly enough. I’d read books, of course, books that told the history of our two peoples.
Once, over a thousand years ago, dwelves and faer had been friends, and had traded and visited each other’s realms often. Then came something the books called The Darkening. None of the tomes I’d read explained what The Darkening was, only that it was responsible for the rift between our peoples. In less than a decade, all trade between us dwindled and the visits diminished. Enmity and hostility rose, and there were conflicts that threatened to turn to outright war.
Only an armistice negotiated by the brownies, no less, had averted the violence, and the faer and dwelves agreed to cease any contact and to close their borders to each other. It became law among
the faer to never approach the mountains, and probably the same had happened in Grongarth.
But now here we were, the first of our people to meet in millennia. I felt oddly calm.
Hoggan’s eyes bored into mine. “So, did you enjoy your stroll?”
My heart skipped a beat. He knew? Maker! I didn’t know what to say, so blurted out the first thing that entered my head. “I got lost.” Idiot!
He smiled. He did that a lot too. “Aye, easy it is to get lost in this place. Easy indeed, especially when you are out alone at night.” His expression turned serious. “And easy to get into trouble if found out…by the wrong people, at least.” He winked.
Though I got the impression he suspected there was a lot more to it than simply getting lost, I didn’t know him well enough to tell him what had happened. I was suddenly curious. “Why are you here? I mean, I’m grateful for the assistance, but is there a reason you were waiting for me?”
Another wide grin split his face. I couldn’t believe how expressive a face of living stone could be. “It is to be my duty, and honor, to instruct you on finding your way around this…place.” He swung his arm out to indicate the Citadel. “The king wants you to be able to find your way around, and his daughter will be busy with court duties for the next few days. So, instead of you languishing in this luxurious abode, he sent me.”
I couldn’t help but return his grin. I was to be free from the princess for a few days! Then the way he’d said luxurious hit me. Was it possible he saw through the spell as Brecca had?
His brows furrowed in an expression of mock disappointment. “So I’m afraid you are stuck with old Hoggan, at least until her royal brattiness is freed up.” I laughed, for the first time since arriving here. “Now,” he said from the doorway, “I’ll wait below while you get freshened up and properly dressed. Then we can get some breakfast.”
With that, my stomach gave an audible growl, and we both laughed. Hoggan bowed again and left me alone as I walked to the bathroom, my heart dancing merrily.
A few minutes later we sat in one of the castle kitchens, at a long table laden with sumptuous steaming food. There was a porridge sweetened with honey, meats and breads, and pastries of all sorts. Pitchers of chilled juices sat on a side table.
Up until now, my meals had been solitary affairs, with a tray of plain fare and a jug of water arriving magically on my dresser each mealtime.
My mouth salivated as I deliberated what to eat first. Hoggan chuckled at my indecision. He grabbed his plate. “I find,” he said while loading the plate and stuffing food into his mouth, “that if you don’t know what to eat”—the pile continued to grow—“it helps if you take a little of everything.” He winked. Soon his plate was heaped with an impossibly huge amount of food, which he laid into with gusto.
I greedily copied him, stuffing my face with each and every item on the table. After what seemed an age, I sat back, rubbing my bursting belly. A burp escaped my mouth, which had us both laughing again. Not wanting to be outdone, Hoggan belched loudly, adding to the humor.
He then produced a tiny clay pot with a long stem on one side of it, along with a pouch of something that looked like brown moss. I sat, fascinated, as he pressed some of the moss into the pot. Then he took out a match and actually lit the stuff, watching me as he blew out a cloud of pungent smoke and laughing at my coughing when it hit me full in the face.
I flapped my arms to dissipate the vapor. “What, by the Maker, is that? Poison?” I continued to cough.
He took the end of the stick out of his mouth, pointing it at me, grinning again. “Poison? My girl, you wound me. ’Tis the finest pipe weed in all of Teralia, grown in the foothills of the mountain kingdom of Grongarth.”
I gagged. The smell was awful. “It’s vile. I don’t know how you stand it.” I choked, coughing. “What is that thing anyway?”
“Pah!” Hoggan simply chuckled. “’Tis a pipe, child. Are you saying you have never seen one before? My, I see I have a lot of work to do to further your education.” He took another puff on the pipe, this time thankfully exhaling in a different direction, before extinguishing it and putting it back inside his robe.
“Now, for our first lesson.” With that he stood up and held a hand out to me. I took it and he led me out the door and down a long corridor. Like the one last night, this corridor had a transparent outer wall, but today the sky was overcast, with angry grey clouds rolling down from the north. We entered a small room with a transportation circle in the middle of it.
He gestured toward it. “Now, I’m sure by now you know what one of these is.” I nodded. “But do you know how to use one?”
“I thought only the eldar could use them. They’re magical, aren’t they?”
Hoggan nodded. “Yes, they are magical, but these devices are imbued with it.”
I looked at him blankly.
“That means the circles themselves have power. All you need to know is how to activate them. I take it the princess neglected to tell you this?”
I gave him a look that left him in no doubt as to my feelings about the princess. He snorted. “Right, well, these circles are dotted all over the place, usually in halls like this, but some are situated in other areas—the courtyard inside the gates, for instance.”
I’m not sure why, but the dark figure I’d seen that day as we rode through the gates after encountering the dragons came to mind. “Is there a circle on the walls, above the gate?”
His eyes narrowed and seemed to search mine for a reason behind the question. “There are no circles on the battlements. Why do you ask?”
I wasn’t sure if I should tell him or not. I mean, he’d done all he could to be nice to me, but then so had Lyssa before her betrayal. I was sure Hoggan was different, but I wasn’t totally sure what I’d seen hadn’t been a trick of the light. No sense him thinking I was crazy.
“Oh, no reason. I was just curious,” I answered innocently. “Tell me though, is there a flash of light when a circle is used? It’s just I’ve never seen anyone actually use one.” I looked downward. “People seem to give the princess a wide berth.”
Hoggan’s eyes glinted in silent understanding. “No, no flash. Here, let me show you.” He stepped on the circle, closed his eyes in concentration, and simply vanished, leaving the usual scent of magic lingering in the hallway. A second later he was back, the customary smile on his face. He beckoned to me, and I stepped into the circle.
He pointed at the floor. “Each circle is unique. You see the pattern?”
I looked down, for the first time noticing the beautiful swirls and colors. Hoggan squeezed my hand. “Commit the pattern to memory.” I began to protest but he raised a hand. “It seems daunting, I know, but each pattern is designed to be completely different, so much that you only need remember the basics. Now, I will take us somewhere, then you can bring us back.”
Before I could make a sound, we stood in the daylight of the courtyard. Even when overcast, I blinked at the glare coming off the pale crystal surface. There was a wet wind blowing; a storm was coming. On impulse I looked down. Hoggan was right. This pattern was completely different. I committed this one to memory as well.
“Ready?” he asked.
I swallowed. “What if I screw up and we appear in the middle of a wall?” The butterflies in my stomach were looping the loop.
Hoggan smiled confidently. “Just concentrate. Let the pattern fill your mind.” His hand landed reassuringly on my shoulder as I recalled the colors and patterns of the other circle. I closed my eyes. The smell of magic filled my nostrils then dissipated. I’d failed.
I opened my eyes and gasped. We were back in the hall, and Hoggan stood beaming widely at me. He patted my shoulder affectionately. “Well done, Jesaela.”
I returned the smile, my chest swelling with pride. “My friends call me Jes.”
Hoggan took both my hands in his, bowing and touching each palm to his lips in a gentle kiss. His voice was thick with emotion. “I am honored
to be called your friend, child, and if you will have it, I offer my friendship in return.”
I felt like embracing him but paused, not knowing if it was against the custom of his people, but before I could decide what to do, Hoggan grabbed me, and even though he was a full head shorter than me, he lifted me off my feet in a huge bear hug. His deep laughter filled the small hall, and before I knew it I was laughing along. I didn’t need any heightened senses to tell me I’d met my first true friend in this Maker-forsaken place.
We spent the next few days getting to know one another while we explored the Citadel. My head filled to bursting as I struggled to remember all the patterns we visited, but I took Hoggan’s advice to remember the patterns of the main hallways for now.
One day, we climbed the steps up onto the walls, and sat eating a lunch Hoggan had packed earlier. The air was balmy and the sky back to its azure blue, with just a few fluffy white clouds chasing each other across the expanse. The forest stood out in a rich green on the horizon, and I imagined I saw the Tree rising at the center.
“Why are there no circles on the walls, Hoggan?” It had bothered me since the first day we’d met.
The dwelf lay back against the crenellated battlement and fixed me with a hard stare. “It hasn’t always been this peaceful, girl.” He stood up and gazed out over the lands. “In ages past there were wars between the races. Alliances were made and betrayed. It was during one such alliance, between the eldar and dwelvish races, that this Citadel was sung into substance. It was decided that if an enemy took the walls, having a means to infiltrate farther into the city might be a bad idea.”
“So it’s true. You sing to the rock of the world, and it obeys?”
Hoggan smiled back. “It dances to our song, yes.” He gestured over the Citadel. “All this took an army of my people over a century to build. Outside of Grongarth, this is our greatest creation.” His eyes grew distant as he gazed at the grey and purple mountains in the distance.
Companion of Darkness: An Epic Fantasy Series (The Chaos Wars Book 1) Page 6