Analindë (The Chronicles of Lóresse)

by Melissa Bitter

  “Yes.”

  “Well, we heard it ourselves. A scout was speaking with High Lord Mallhawion in the hallway just outside of potions.”

  “You won’t believe it,” Maliel spoke up and Pedar elbowed her.

  This was the Pedar she was used to. The one that teased and joked. She smiled at her longtime friend, now Ally, and relaxed.

  “A secret delegation was sent to make contact with the humans living in the Southlands.” He paused dramatically, allowing her time to absorb the impact and meaning. “Since no official envoy had contacted them for at least two hundred and fifty years, the humans were quite surprised when we showed up. It turns out all of the old rulers had died and their great-great-grandchildren governed in their place.”

  “They thought we didn’t exist!” Maliel blurted out. “Can you imagine? Us, imaginary stuff of legends? Who would’ve thought?”

  Pedar exchanged a knowing glance with Maliel then said, “Anyway, after class, reports were being bantered all over the school.”

  “Everyone seems to be gossiping about how humans have rounded ears?” Maliel rolled her eyes. “You knew they had rounded ears, right Analindë? Were you shocked when you saw them?”

  “I . . . I really can’t quite remember what I thought. I did notice their ears, but I was a ways off and didn’t see them very closely. I was mostly noticing other things at the time.” Analindë took another bite of soup, wondering where this odd conversation was going to lead them next.

  Pedar leaned forward to interject. “Our library at home has an extensive collection of pictures and books on humans. You’re welcome to stop by any–”

  “And they didn’t know that humans had attacked us!” Maliel interrupted.

  Pedar shrugged and settled back with a grin.

  Maliel continued, “Also, just so you’re aware, everyone seems to be in a tizzy over the humans. If you don’t want to answer questions and talk about how humans sleep twice as long as elves do, and have to travel slowly so they don’t get too tired, then I recommend you stay in the library as long as possible. People have been pestering Pedar all afternoon. I can only imagine it would be worse with you since you’ve seen them more recently than he.”

  “I don’t suppose the talk will die down anytime soon, will it?” Analindë mused.

  Maliel frowned, “No, probably not.”

  When Maliel didn’t immediately say anything else, Pedar sat forward and spoke directly to Analindë, “You’ll be happy to hear that the humans said they would help ferret out any who had aligned with the Traitors, for their legends tell of the desolation that always comes upon their people when the elves go to war. They’ve sworn their aid since they are reluctant to have an elven war happen again.” He cast a sideways glance at Maliel and said, “Even if we are just legends.” The two of them grinned at each other and Analindë found herself wondering what had happened to the two of them. Had they gone on a covert trip of their own to Human lands? Become legends themselves? She smiled.

  “That is good news to hear. Thank you, Pedar.” Analindë toyed with the last few bites of her soup and then puzzled over what he had said. Could the Humans conducting the inquiry be trusted? If so, she wondered how many Humans would turn out to be involved with the Traitors.

  “Did you know,” Maliel began again, “That the humans can be read like books?”

  Analindë looked at her, puzzled. “What?” Having decided she wasn’t hungry anymore, she stacked her dishes together.

  “Like books.” Her voice, sure and matter of fact, continued. “Their emotions blatantly flash across their faces . . . nothing remains hidden. It’s as if you were reading a book with everything right in front of you to see and interpret.” She nodded knowingly. “And they twitch and fidget.” Analindë stilled her hand from twisting the ring about her finger.

  “They fidget?” Analindë asked.

  “Yes, they fidget. Their actions betray their every thought, almost the same as their faces. They move about this way and that whenever they feel some strong emotion.”

  Pedar’s face brightened once more; a mischievous twinkle swirled in his eyes. “An amusing side note, they say the guards all jumped when our delegation appeared out of the forest seeking the human king. The humans have kings. You knew that, right? Anyway, guards jumped and villagers crouched in fear. Others, you could tell they believed in the legends, they came forward asking for miracles and healings. I guess they don’t have many wizards in the Southlands. Anyway, when the representatives from the High Lady’s Court arrived at the human court, it is said that the courtiers shook in their boots and the King fell off his throne.”

  “Oh, Pedar! It wasn’t as extreme as that. Well, perhaps that’s what it looked like to us since we read each other so well. The humans, I’m sure, were quite polished. Anyway, the important thing is that both Southern Kingdoms have aligned themselves with us and have sworn to search out any rogues who would ally themselves with the traitors.”

  The stars in Pedar’s eyes still made merry, but then they turned serious. He leaned forward to say, “You do know that the humans are sending a delegation to us.”

  Surprised, Maliel gasped, “No!”

  “Yes, you hadn’t heard? I’ll tell you what I know.” And so he did. Halfway through his tale Analindë excused herself, thanking them for telling her the latest news, and then she headed for the tower. Andulmaion was expecting her for afternoon shielding practice.

  Her mind, filled to the brim, jumped from one topic to the next. From the Humans rounded ears and the alliance they brought, to the scrawled handwriting in the back of the scrying book, she dismissed it all in favor of planning how and when she would next enter the void.

  The Twenty-Sixth Chapter

  ANDULMAION WAS WAITING FOR HER when she reached the tower room. “Sorry for being late. I lost track of time.”

  “That’s fine. I just arrived myself. Did you learn anything interesting today in class?” he asked. He still wore the reserved air from this morning, but at least he was meeting her eyes.

  “Oh I–,” she briefly contemplated telling him how she had spent her morning, then stopped. Remembering Master Therin’s dictate, she decided it wasn’t the right time to try to enlist his aid. He took honor and responsibility seriously, as he should, and she didn’t want to place him in a compromising position. “Maliel and Pedar said that the High Lady’s Court sent a delegation to visit the Humans.”

  “Really? Hmmm, that will certainly get the gossip stirred up,” he replied.

  “From what I heard it already has.”

  He fiddled with some of the papers near him, then looked up at her again. The stars in his eyes were earnest, they made her uncomfortable. “Analindë, do you think you’re up for practice today? I think it might be a good idea if we postpone today’s practice session so that you might have more time to regain your strength. What do you think?”

  She hesitated, not knowing what to say. She’d love to go hole-up in her room to practice scrying. But if she did that, then Master Therin might think she was too weak to leave the tower at all. “I’m up for practice.”

  “Are you sure?” He looked doubtful.

  “I’m not fully recovered, if that’s what you’re asking.” The tower stairs had winded her on the way up. “But it will be good to practice. I’ve heard that it builds endurance to keep up with routine.”

  “Okay, but you’ll let me know if you tire?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Then let us begin.”

  He headed into the workroom. She sighed and trailed along after him. Even before the doors were shut and completely warded from the inside, Analindë felt Andulmaion pull his Energy to himself, preparing to strike. She quickly threw up a shield in time to meet the swat he flung at her. He changed the spell and it began to eat through her shields, like acid etching glass. And so it went, one attack after another, continually moving from one weave or shield to the next, not pausing for even a moment to refresh
themselves.

  Her reactions were off, and most times she felt slow, not being able to completely form her shields before his attacks reached her. Yet she kept him at bay, but barely.

  By the time Andulmaion called an end to their sparring she was doubled over, panting, and sweat drenched her clothes and hair.

  “You’re doing well.”

  “I had good reason to try hard; I didn’t want to get hit,” she wheezed out.

  “It wouldn’t have been that bad. I was going to go easy on you this time if I got through.”

  “Sure, sure.” Exhausted, Analindë sank down to the stone floor, reveling in the radiant icy solidness against her hot muscles as she waited to catch her breath.

  “Can we stop for the day?” She didn’t think that she could continue at the moment.

  “Yes, that’s probably a good idea.”

  She swiveled to face him as he sat down on the bench along the far wall, “How’s your new spell going? Have you named it yet?”

  “No, I haven’t named it. Progress goes about the same. I can control it up to a certain point, but there comes a moment that I just can’t manage to cross when I lose control.” He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back, relaxed. “The spell has the capacity to drain vast amounts of Energy, and I discovered this morning that it drains both the physical and non-physical energies in an item. It could drain the last little bit of Energy from you and barely leave you alive to tell the tale. It is not a spell that can be rushed.”

  “Have you tried shielding from it?”

  “It eats through shields very quickly. Faster than even you could put them up I think.”

  Her mind raced ahead to the coming days; she knew that Master Therin and Andulmaion would be called upon to confront the Humans, and she had every intention of going with them. She just had to figure out how to make herself useful. “How does the spell attack the shields. Can you describe it?”

  “It just sucks the Energy right out of it. Shields grow dim and as weak as malformed eggshells, and then they disintegrate.”

  “Does the spell attach in any way to the shield itself?”

  “No, the Energy just floats out of the shield toward the orb I’ve created.”

  Ah, she bet he hadn’t set the shield to guard from the Energy leaving, just Energy coming in. “And do any specific types of shielding tend to slow it down?”

  “No, all of them seem to be affected equally. Analindë, why so many questions? What are you planning?”

  “I am just curious,” she quickly said. “Our shielding session is over now?” He nodded, “Then I am off to change, and you?”

  “The same for me,” he said. “Let me know when you’re ready for dinner; we’ll walk down together.”

  Eager to try her hand at scrying, Analindë had hurried through her bath. Her hair was still damp when she sat down at the desk near the windows in her room. She poured water into the wide silver bowl in front of her.

  She rubbed her hands against her legs attempting to steady them. She felt just as nervous as she’d been the first time she’d called fire.

  She felt jittery. Butterflies fluttered away in her tummy. Her hands began to tremble and so she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. Let the worry go. This was nothing like the void. She stopped that thought immediately. She was going to enter the void later; it would be best not to reinforce her fears, legitimate though they were. And so she told herself she was now better prepared to enter the void, and that this was just a simple practice test to do beforehand.

  The butterflies didn’t listen; she felt like she was going to throw up. She raced to a nearby window, throwing it open. Leaning out, she took in big gulps of winter air. The shocking cold calmed her, clearing her mind of panicky thoughts. It took a long moment for her galloping pulse to return to normal, but she hung out the window until it did. She thought that it would be best not to think of anything at all but the task at hand.

  And so she thought of the bitter cold air and nothing else.

  Once her mind was cleared, her self calmed, she shut the window and sat back down. She stared at the silver bowl in front of her and repeated the steps of scrying to herself, again and again.

  This was simple. It was easy. She’d be able to do this without too much effort, she told herself.

  Deciding to take the plunge, she entered into a half trance and steadied her breathing. Four counts in, hold, four counts out, and again. She mentally felt for the ground beneath her and settled herself down upon it. She became firm and strong, supporting the weight of her soul as she prepared to cast the spell.

  She snapped to center, Energy connections crisp and clear. Her mind focused and sharp. No distractions.

  There was no need to anchor herself for this spell, but she decided it wouldn’t hurt to practice so she sent a tendril of Energy out and latched onto the stone beneath her. She knitted that bit of Energy with the stone’s energies until they became one, inseparable.

  Analindë opened her eyes and scooted forward so she could peer into the bowl; the bright windows reflected upon the water’s surface. She focused her mind on her memory of the gardens outside; in particular, of a piece of sculpture in the garden. The one at the pool of water where the buck guarded the doe, ever watchful and wary.

  She gathered a small amount of power within her and said, “Palan,” then pushed both Energy and the image of the garden sculpture toward the bowl. The water within the bowl expanded and then solidified, turning a glossy black. A blurry image appeared within the darkness, fading in and out. She’d read that scrying through shields would do this, right now it was fine; she could afford the extra cost of power.

  She sharpened her focus on the image of the deer sculpture, willing the bowl to understand, and the deer jumped into view accompanied by an electric zing of Energy. With a yelp she relaxed her focus a tiny bit, and the draw on her source lessened. Attempting to determine the best way to complete the spell with the least amount of Energy expended, she played with the level of focus for a moment and found the place where the spell was comfortable enough to hold and would not tire her quickly.

  Satisfied by her efforts, Analindë broadened her view to encompass the pond; the blue stone path stood out starkly against the white landscape surrounding it. A student hurried along the path as the wind buffeted him along the way.

  Elated, she released the spell. “I did it. I can’t believe I did it.” She leaned back into her chair in relief. She let the spell dissolve, then cut her anchor. Contented joy ebbed within her as she contemplated the small success. Life was good.

  There was still so much that she had to learn about scrying, such as protecting herself from attack while she did so or shielding herself so that others couldn’t sense that she watched, or how to slip through areas that were warded against prying eyes. But those lessons wouldn’t be learned until she had full access to the restricted section of the library. What she knew for now would suffice.

  Analindë found Andulmaion waiting for her in the study; he was perusing one of those old tattered pamphlets he always seemed to carry around. This one was tied together with a scarlet ribbon. “Are you ready to head down? Or would you like a little more time to study before we go?” she asked kindly.

  Her voice startled him and his head snapped up quickly. Upon seeing her, his face relaxed and he said, “Now is fine.” He carefully set his pamphlet aside and stood up.

  “Have you heard the latest news about the humans?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “I ask because I thought you’d want to know before the general melee in the dining hall engulfs you.”

  “Good thinking, and thanks for the offer.”

  He nodded his head and said, “No trace of the humans has been found, but they haven’t yet dared attack the Mountain City. The good news is that one of our scouting teams will reach the region by nightfall. They are the best in the Realm actually.” At the mention of scouts, Analindë’s face went wh
ite, and her eyes widened. She hadn’t made the connection before now. “One of them was a friend to your brother–”

  “Arandur.” She sat down abruptly.

  “Yes, it’s Arandur. Are you all right?” He rushed over to her, his eyes were wary, but she didn’t notice.

  “Do you know him well?” He softly laid a hand on her arm.

  “He practically lived with us each summer for as long as I can remember. He and Riian would trail each other around the foothills of the valley, tracking and hunting each other. Sometimes they would let me tag along, but most days I couldn’t keep up.”

  By the time Analindë had finished speaking, Andulmaion’s eyes had become guarded. He said, “Well if anyone can find the humans it will be Arandur and his team.”

  “Do you think that they are safe?” she asked.

  “They’ve been tracking the humans for weeks now and no harm has befallen them so far. They are the best at their craft; none could be safer under the same circumstances.” He looked away from her and picked up a small wooden bowl ringed with birds in flight he quickly set it back down. “Come let us go to dinner.”

  Confused by his abruptness, she followed in silence as he led the way down the tower stairs. Not liking the way the agitated silence made her feel, she turned her thoughts inward and began composing a list of innocuous questions. Questions about the Humans, which she could ask Master Therin when the right moment arose.

  That evening they met with Master Therin very briefly. The long days were taking a toll on the elderly mage; his shoulders slumped as he sat in the chair nearest the fire, the lines in his face appeared deeper. “The scouts have made it to the lands of the Mountain City; they rest this evening and will start their search before morning’s light. How they made it so far so quickly none of us know, but it is a testament to their skills to have accomplished as much.”

  “Is there still no sign of the Humans?” asked Analindë.

  He shook his head, “No sign of them has been found. I tend to believe that they are resting, regaining their strength while they make plans to enter the city,” Master Therin replied.