Analindë (The Chronicles of Lóresse)

by Melissa Bitter

  “Thank you very much.” She gingerly cradled the book in her arms.

  “Yes, now off with you. You will want to return that book to your room before you go to dinner.”

  “Yes, thank you,” she said with a quick curtsey in his direction.

  She grinned as she thought of her unbelievable luck as she made her way quickly out of the library and back to her rooms.

  Master Therin and Andulmaion were waiting for her when she arrived. Dinner lay upon the table. They would be eating in tonight. Good. She had a lot on her mind, and not having to go down to the dining hall would give her more time to think. Master Therin glanced toward the book she held in her arms; his eyes looked satisfied.

  “You knew I would find this book?” she asked.

  “I had my suspicions and had hoped, but could not know for sure. They only come when they want to. Which one is it?”

  “There are more than one?”

  “Oh yes my dear, there are many, and cover more subjects than you can even begin to imagine. Which one?”

  For a moment Analindë thought of the earth books she had found in the back corner of the second floor, their old green leather bindings showing their age. She shook herself out of her reverie. “Lindariel, the first elven mage to find her source and name it.”

  A smile twitched at the corners of Master Therin’s lips. Andulmaion looked . . . covetous. “Ah, good. Now put that away for a moment and come join us for dinner. It has just arrived and smells delicious.”

  The Eighteenth Chapter

  ANALINDË SLIPPED DOWN A SIDE hall that would take her from the section of the school where Master Therin’s tower was situated to a building near the students’ dormitories where most of the classrooms were located. It was her third day back in class and her second time to attend advanced healing. Now that she was attending classes again she felt nauseated and clammy, mixed with moments of the lighthearted freedom of normalcy. Only things hadn’t been normal. The other students glanced at her furtively when they thought she wasn’t looking, and the events from several weeks ago still weighed heavily on her heart.

  The hallway she traveled was rarely used. It was dimly lit by occasional mage lights, no windows graced the walls. Like the other secret corridors she’d discovered last year, it was slightly musty from infrequent use. According to Erulissé’s sources, Mirëdell was riddled with passageways, but most students couldn’t find them so they were rarely used. Analindë had found six of them so far, including this one. She descended five steps then rounded a corner as the hallway veered right.

  She hoped to arrive in class just in time to slip into her seat before class started. Not too early, definitely not late. She hurried her pace. She rubbed her empty hands absently against her robes. If she was following the normal course of study she wouldn’t have taken the advanced healer’s course for another ten years. As a result, the other students viewed her as an interloper and hadn’t been very welcoming.

  Analindë hoped Master Harwyn hadn’t forgotten to bring an extra book for her today. The professor had said the required book was unavailable at the market down in the city so she’d spent last night in the library studying for today’s lesson and hadn’t had enough time to commit the day’s lesson to memory before the librarians had ushered her out.

  Analindë neared the end of the passage and slowed down. She peered through the illusionary barrier covering the exit, making sure no one was just outside, then she slipped through the ward into the empty hallway. Shoulders back, head up—you never knew who could be watching—she glided up the hallway with a grace that would have made her mother proud. Determined not to let the other students get the best of her, she wiped her hands against her skirts one last time, took a deep breath and entered the classroom.

  Ah, just-in-time. Quiet murmurs moved through the classroom, papers rustled. She sank into a chair at the back of the room and rested her hands on the desk. Grateful that this time she was sitting next to the wall, she settled down to wait.

  Moments later, the tall professor rose to her feet; midnight blue skirts swooshed as she strode around the classroom passing out chalk. Bewildered, Analindë watched anxiously as Master Harwyn approached. Silvery blond hair was piled atop her head in simple braids. Some elves used their hair as a subtle demonstration of power. Either the healer preferred simple designs or she didn’t have much strength. Remembering the lesson with Andulmaion about illusions, she realized perhaps hair styles weren’t the best gauge of ability. She stifled a sigh.

  “You will write an outline of Section Four from last night’s reading on the board,” said Master Harwyn as she handed Analindë a piece of chalk. “You will also add any insights you gained and discrepancies you noted.” Then she walked away.

  “Section Four?” Analindë’s mind raced; the professor ignored her question and was already speaking to the next student. She looked around; most of her classmates had already begun to form outlines on the chalkboards that lined the walls. She’d curiously noticed the boards during the last class but hadn’t realized what they meant.

  Analindë approached the nearest board where there was space, but the other students edged over to block access. Without a word, Analindë moved to another board. A different grouping of students edged her out this time. It took four tries to find space to write, and even then the students continued to ignore her.

  By then her hands were shaking and her confidence was shattered. The only thing that kept her from falling apart were her mother’s drills in comportment. The other students would never know that she’d been affected. Analindë gripped her piece of chalk and began to write Section Four, Ways to Stop a Poison.

  She peered around the room hoping that someone else might have been assigned the same section. She couldn’t remember if the section was about antidotes or actions. She noticed that all of the other sections of the chapter had been assigned more than once except hers. Some students were even working together. She took a deep breath, stood taller, and made her writing as neat and concise as possible given the tremors shaking her hand.

  She finally finished, hoping that she’d covered all the points in the section, and moved to take her seat again. Most of the other students had already regained their seats, and only a couple students remained at the boards.

  Classmates quietly chatted with each other while Master Harwyn circled the room scanning their efforts. She stopped to read each outline in turn, then moved to the next. When she reached Analindë’s she stared at it twice as long as any of the others. Analindë’s breath quickened, she willed her hands to remain still.

  At last Master Harwyn harrumphed and turned away to circle the room once more. She finally sat at her desk at the front of the room, took out a fresh piece of paper and began to write.

  She eventually set her pen down on her desk and the chatter in the room stopped, filling the room with an expectant silence. “I have recorded your scores; the next quiz will take place in two days time. Study well.”

  A quiz? Why hadn’t Master Harwyn warned her? The other students had obviously known and been prepared. The anxiousness she felt turned to anger. Of all the–

  “Now, let us discuss the different types of poisons and their symptoms. You’ll learn about them generally elsewhere; let us talk about specifics.”

  The class dragged on forever. Surprised and hurt, Analindë didn’t understand why she’d been singled out. She’d never known a teacher to spitefully exclude anyone, until now. Maybe if she’d tried harder? Perhaps she just needed to prove herself to the professor over time? Or maybe she should ask Master Therin for advice, but she quickly dropped that idea. Master Therin didn’t like it when she brought problems to his attention, and she didn’t want to upset the delicate balance they’d just arrived at.

  When class finally ended, she slipped out of the room as quickly and unobtrusively as she could manage. Master Harwyn had somehow forgotten to bring Analindë an extra book, which meant more studying at the library. She deci
ded to try the market anyway. Maybe Master Harwyn had been wrong and the booksellers did have a copy.

  Analindë shuddered as she stepped down the hallway. Hopefully the next class wouldn’t be so bad. She wandered along, searching for the hidden corridor. It was around here somewhere. Why couldn’t she find it? She counted five arches down from the classroom door and looked closely at the opposite wall.

  “Sorry about that.”

  Analindë jumped, then spun around. She’d been so intent on finding the hidden passageway that she hadn’t noticed the student trailing behind her. It was one of the girls from class. Blond hair was swept back from her face, tied in intricate braids emphasizing blue eyes colder than any winter morning.

  “Pardon?” said Analindë.

  “You know, most of the students resent that you jumped ahead. And Master Harwyn’s more prickly than usual.” The other student spoke softly but kindly.

  “Oh.”

  “You can’t risk being on her bad side, or she’ll . . .” The girl quickly turned away from her to study a mural on the wall; her face cleared of all expression as a group of students approached. After they’d passed, she quickly turned back and whispered, “Study hard. For some reason she’s decided not to like you.” And then the girl was gone, striding down the hall to catch up with her friends.

  Her classmate’s half apology wove its way insidiously through her mind. A tingle of unease ran up Analindë’s spine; she spun around to search the hall behind her and caught sight of a door closing. Who’d been watching them? Frightened, she turned to face the wall again, searching for the corridor. Where was it? Her heart raced, knees shook, her breath came faster. There it is! She pressed her hand over the glyph and slipped into welcoming grimy darkness.

  The Nineteenth Chapter

  “I’VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT JULWEN,” Analindë said as they strolled across the atrium. It was an airy space. Tall columns, lots of windows. Potted palms and groupings of low couches and chairs dotted the room.

  “Julwen? Whatever for?” Erulissé replied.

  “I think I need to apologize to her, and to do so very publicly. It’s hard to explain, but ever since she approached me in the dining hall I’ve felt a nagging sense of wrongness, that I acted badly and need to repair the damage.”

  Erulissé looked thoughtful. “Do you think she was trying to mend the breach?”

  “I’m not sure. But I know that my reaction definitely did not help the situation between our families. It probably enflamed the estrangement and, if left alone, will likely end up pushing the dislike forward for another generation. You’ll help me when the time comes to act? When I figure out how to apologize?”

  “You need to ask? Of course I’ll help, I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

  “Erulissé, Analindë, wait up,” Pedar’s voice called out. Analindë glanced behind them to find Maliel and Pedar making a beeline for them. Pedar looked furious.

  “Pedar, what’s wrong?” Analindë asked as soon as they were within speaking distance.

  Pedar glanced around the atrium, then pulled them into a side alcove in order to be more private. Analindë looked back and forth between Maliel, who looked mulish, and Pedar. He still wore a sling on his arm; it looked like the break had not yet healed.

  “Analindë, please. I have not pressed you on details before now, but there are some things I must know. Could we please discuss the human wizard’s abilities and power? I wouldn’t ask, but it’s important. I think the council is stonewalling my parents.”

  Shocked, Analindë gave the only answer that she could. “Yes, yes of course we can talk.”

  “Could we have the conversation now?”

  Erulissé piped up, “Now?” She peeped out of the alcove, looking for who might be nearby. “Perhaps we should find a better place to–”

  Pedar made an abrupt movement, then cast up a noisy shield around them. It was of basic construction, but effective. It blocked people from overhearing what they said. It was not made for subtle applications since it was quite obvious that the four of them were hiding from the others in the room.

  “There, now we can speak as we wish.”

  Analindë nodded. “What in particular would you like to know?”

  “The amulets for starters, can you describe them? Could you sense anything of their origin? And the human’s strength. Did they appear to be altered in any fashion? That is to say, did they feel human to you, or did they feel like something else?”

  Despite the noisy shield around them, the friends huddled together. Analindë replied in a hushed voice.

  “Pedar, I’m sorry, but I’m not sure. My powers were so new to me back then. I’m not sure that I sensed much of anything. I’m not sure why my family waits to train our mages, but I’m at a disadvantage. Any of the other mages my age could have answered your questions.” Analindë grimaced and then continued.

  “What I can tell you is that I’d never seen Humans before they came to Lindënolwë, even from a distance. So, from everything I’ve read in books, they appeared normal to me. They spoke and moved as I expected. It’s true that the strength they exhibited far surpassed anything that I had been led to expect. They kept up with me, even when I was at a dead run, sprinting uphill. That was definitely abnormal by all reports. But no, I was unable to sense if they’d been altered somehow.

  “As for the amulets, they were silver and emerald green. The green bits were shiny, most likely from some sort of enamel. I don’t remember the design. The Human wizard kept referring to his amulet saying that it could help locate me. I also believe he used the amulet to help weave the spells against my family. At the time I couldn’t have identified the amulet with any particular family, but with what I now know, I can say with certainty that they were old. Practically ancient.”

  Pedar swore and turned away briefly to bark a word she didn’t understand. The shield around them brightened noticeably and solidified somewhat. He swung back around and spoke freely.

  “It was definitely the amulets then. The council is downplaying that fact, saying that the humans which came to your village were simply altered. Which in and of itself brings dire consequences of its own since it’s forbidden to meddle with the genetics of other species. I don’t understand why the council would even suggest it.”

  He paced for a moment and then turned back to them. “The abilities that humans and elves have—in regard to working Energy—are fundamentally different one from the other. Because of our long life spans and the type of access we have to the power flows, elves are able to weave spells that are far reaching, nuanced, and complex. Humans, on the other hand, use spells that are powerful with brute strength, though no match to our own. The scope of human spells is limited or narrowed to a finite task. This is why a single human can sometimes withstand a direct attack, if he keeps the area he defends confined to a small space.

  “From what you’ve told me, all three of the humans must have had access to an amulet of their own.”

  Analindë spoke up, “Yes, I’ve surmised the same. Although I only saw the wizard’s amulet, I believe that all three Humans carried one.”

  “The council is lying and we don’t know why. I think that the amulet most likely augments the abilities of the wearer while extending elven protections. Without doubt, the human wizard used the amulet in the attack on your family.”

  “I agree,” Analindë said, her voice thoughtful.

  “The council is being cagey with the information they’ve gathered and I don’t like it. Why they haven’t summoned one of my parents to actually come and sit in on discussions is beyond me.”

  Surprised, Analindë asked, “They aren’t involving your parents?”

  “Oh, they are. For all intents and purposes, on the surface it looks like they’re being consulted, but that’s just it. All of the major discussions are taking place without them.”

  “I’m sorry Pedar. I wish I could have helped you out some more.”

  “It is of no wor
ry; we will figure it all out in the end. I just wish we knew more information about the amulets. If we could find a written record about them, who originally made them, who they were gifted to, or maybe who it was rumored to hold them last, it would go a long way toward knowing how they ended up with the humans in the first place.”

  “I’ll keep an eye out for information while I study in the library.”

  “And I’ll keep an ear out for any gossip I may hear.”

  “Thanks Analindë, Erulissé. I really appreciate it. Something about how this is all proceeding worries me greatly.”

  Maliel nudged him and Pedar hesitated for a moment, taking a moment to study Analindë. Maliel nudged him again and gave him a look that said, “If you don’t tell her, I will.” Pedar turned back to Analindë and she found that she was suddenly anxious.

  “One last thing.” Pedar stilled, the stars in his eyes had stilled. His face was serious. She trembled, afraid of what he might say. “As one who values your friendship, you should be aware that the wrong sort of people are talking about you. I’ve heard–, no, I can’t tell you how,” Pedar exclaimed when Erulissé made to interrupt. “But I’ve heard that people are talking about your quick rise to power. As you know, caution, routine, and conservatism are the ruling school of thought of our day. Your huge leaps in power and ability have people talking about former days. Of course, no one knows how our ancestors made such great leaps and thus the disturbing talk about you is surfacing.

  “Please, stay safe.” He reached out to grasp her arm; Maliel nodded her head in agreement. “There is talk–, that is to say, you should try to hide what you can until you are sufficiently able to defend yourself.”

  Maliel jumped into the discussion for the first time, blunt as ever. “What Pedar is trying to spit out is that people are talking about abducting you and then dissecting you to figure out how you made the great jump in abilities. We don’t want you to end up as some lab experiment, so just take care, okay?”