Analindë (The Chronicles of Lóresse)

by Melissa Bitter

  She landed lightly, so did Andulmaion. Her legs felt weak. Upon touching the sand, the scouts fell immediately to the ground, holding their heads as if to stop the spinning. Analindë knew the feeling well, so she worked quickly to release her mental hold on them. Analindë felt more than saw Sintriel’s shields slam up.

  She turned toward Andulmaion, “That was quite the ride; I hadn’t expected it to last so long.” She sank down onto the soft sands beneath her and closed her eyes.

  “You’re getting better at the casting and travel. I barely felt the effects this time. And as for length, we have traveled perhaps three or four times the distance of the first jump we tried, didn’t we?”

  Analindë smiled up at him, “You think I did better?”

  “You know you did. Now come, when you’ve regained your strength, the others need our help.”

  Pleased, Analindë pulled herself to her feet and followed his lead. She couldn’t seem to move very fast and it wasn’t because she was walking in sand.

  She decided to make the tea this time and turned to open the packs Andulmaion had dropped. She removed her long coat, folding it compactly into a square, and tucked it into her pack. Then she pulled out the pot, filled it with water, and activated the warming spell woven into the metal. One by one the scouts wandered over to Analindë. She in turn handed them a cup and offered them the contents of the food bag to make a late lunch. The refreshing tea gave her strength and cleared her mind.

  “Fresh bread.” The aroma of hearth, yeast and flour wafted toward Analindë as Sintriel pulled a loaf out of the pack. “It’s always what I miss the most when away from civilization.” Sintriel tore off a small part of the loaf and sliced cheese upon it using a deadly blade that had materialized from some hidden spot. Analindë tried not to flinch at how terrifying the woman was.

  Once everyone had tucked into the food they’d brought, Analindë rose and started trekking up the dune behind them. Ceaseless desert winds shifted around her, stirring the sands near the crest of the dune. The climb was tiring, but it wasn’t before too long that she found herself staring out over the desert.

  The red desert sands stretched unbroken around her for as far as the eye could see. Judging from the maps she’d studied, it practically was endless. There was nothing but sand, except for the fortress that lay in front of her.

  A gust of wind whipped around her and she shaded her face as sand pelted her. A moment later the wind resumed its lazy breeze and she dropped her arm. What she could see of the fortress was impressive. It matched what the scrying bowl had shown her. That fact should have been reassuring; instead it made her feel uneasy. The city walls made her feel uneasy. It was as if they knew she was here and waited for her to come. She shivered and turned away from the sight. Sliding down the sandy dune, she rejoined her friends below.

  Their discussion had turned serious. They talked about what skills they each possessed and explored different options on how best to approach the fortress. It turned out that Sintriel could sense traps and the offensive places of stronghold from afar, so she and Andulmaion tramped off together to study the fortresses defenses. Analindë watched as they stood side by side at the top of the high dune, searching every visible crag of the fortress for weapons or traps inside.

  Analindë avoided the dune, and instead walked a distance away from the others with a flat bowl and a sack of water tucked under her arm. When she found a good spot, she settled down onto the sand. She worried as she scryed the fortress. Had the Humans been joined by others? What other spells had the wizard picked up? She’d brought her friends here; would they leave this place alive? She ventured into the void and spoke the word to listen. Had she and her party been discovered? What were the Human’s plans?

  Thankfully, the Humans remained alone and ignorant of their arrival. The rest of her questions remained unanswered.

  The elves found that the Humans had been lazy in making themselves at home; apparently, they hadn’t thought they’d be followed. They almost hadn’t. From what Andulmaion and Sintriel could sense, none of the external fortress defenses had been reactivated.

  The small group of elves planned their entrance into the fortress for the next morning, during pre-dawn light, counting on a good night’s sleep to refresh them and the morning darkness to give cover. They planned to quickly traverse the barren wastes between them and the fortress walls before the Humans awoke. From there they would wind through the city to find the building where the Humans hid. Their plan was good and they were content.

  After eating a brief meal the group dispersed, each preparing for the coming day. The heavy silence of introspection lay heavy on the camp. Andulmaion was worried. She saw it in the way he fiddled with his pack. The others seemed more calm; they’d done this sort of thing many times before, just not out here in the middle of the desert. Thalion took first watch and Arandur volunteered for the second; the rest of them would sleep.

  Analindë had volunteered to keep watch, but Sintriel had quickly set her strait. Keeping watch was one of the scout’s strengths; to put a less skilled person in charge of the safety of the group in a situation like this would be negligent.

  Analindë didn’t argue.

  “We should search for a source to replenish our Energy,” Andulmaion said as sand shifted beneath his feet.

  “Together?”

  A grin flashed across his face and then it was gone. “No, I don’t think that’s possible—or perhaps wise—to do together, but we both used quite a bit of Energy today. We should refresh our reserves while we have time.”

  Analindë nodded quickly. He was right. “Does it matter where we search? I’ve only been to the desert once before.”

  “I don’t think it does.”

  “It feels the same in all directions.”

  “I suppose it would work best to pick a spot to sit, then search further. A city of this size wouldn’t have been built without a source.”

  “Unless they used it all up and there is no power left here.”

  “We will not know until we look.” He grinned, then turned and walked away from her. “Good luck,” he called over his shoulder.

  His retreating back made her nervous. She turned and walked in the opposite direction he had while keeping well away from the others. Walking across the sand was difficult. It slowed her down. Sintriel was performing the Warrior’s Dance of the Evening, and she wondered how the woman managed to move so effortlessly across the sand. Thalion sat cross-legged near their belongings with his eyes closed. She didn’t see Arandur, and wondered where he’d gone.

  Analindë walked far enough away that she wouldn’t hear the quiet murmurs of the scouts’ voices should they speak and then walked a little further. She liked the idea of being alone while she worked. Finding solitude. She sank down to the soft sand and cast a swath of Energy around her. Was it safe here? After a moment of searching she decided, yes, it was.

  She let her senses sink down into the sands and pool back together. Stretching a tendril of Energy out into a thread, she sent it sliding down through the fine powdery sand to discover whatever there was to be discovered. Playing the game she’d mastered many weeks ago, she let her mind wander as she had done countless times before.

  Had it been just yesterday that she’d convinced Andulmaion to let her tag along? Was it only earlier this morning that she’d fully learned to jump? She’d never been the impulsive type and was suddenly realizing why. It was scary. Not-so-safe. She shivered.

  She opened her eyes and searched the darkness. The sun had long since set, but the stars shone brightly overhead with only a faint sliver of moon. She thought she saw the faint outlines of the abandoned city’s walls and she wondered what they’d find inside. Humans, definitely. But would she and her friends meet their deaths? Would Andulmaion’s Energy eating sphere be enough? She idly wondered who had lived in the city and why they had left. But then her thoughts drifted back to their chances of surviving the coming confrontation and her thoughts
slowed.

  Andulmaion had seemed relatively happy, or at least had only put up token resistance to accept her plans, so maybe he’d seen their success. Seen that they should come?

  Maybe he’d only seen Master Therin’s failure, she frowned. Would three scouts and two mage apprentices be enough to stop these three Humans?

  Now that they were actually here, she had her doubts. What had she gotten them into? Yes, she. It was her fault. If she hadn’t bargained with Andulmaion yesterday, she wouldn’t be here and neither would Arandur and his two friends. The wind had shifted, and she was no longer far away enough to be alone. In the distance she heard that Andulmaion had already rejoined the others; their voices were muted by the softly blowing desert wind. They weren’t murmuring. But they sounded content; the barren desert simply amplified their voices across the sand.

  She blocked them out and moved her thoughts away from the dangerous and quite valid self-doubting thoughts to the task at hand. Her tendril of Energy had easily slid through the warm upper layers of sand to chilled ones below. Now she was moving through the densely compacted earth, still searching. There must be something down here somewhere, she thought to herself as she sped the tendril of thought along further than she’d thought to look. At last she finally found a smallish pool of Energy. Grateful, she asked, «Please.»

  The pool reached out to her, sending Energy made of fire. It felt of hot desert sands baked under an unrelenting summer sun. It swirled like strong desert winds within her and she felt as if she’d scorch from the inside out if she stayed connected for too long. With her source quickly replenished, she said, «Thank you,» and gingerly detached herself from the pool.

  As she disengaged, the fiery source gripped her tendril of Energy stronger, holding her captive. She didn’t fight to free herself, but stilled, worried, and waiting. «If you have need, we will help you fight the threat.» And then it let go; the presence in her mind was gone.

  Panicked, she called out, «What?» . . . But only silence answered her call. The pool of Energy was gone, it had moved elsewhere.

  She pulled the tendril back into herself, worried and quite a bit unnerved. She looked to her source and caught her breath. It was beautiful. The dense, ancient Energy from Mirëdell had mixed with the fire from the deep sands. Her Energy now moved and flowed as if it burned. Dense and potent, it had a slippery, explosive feel to it.

  It was a heady sensation. She strolled back to join the others in bliss, warmed from the inside.

  She laid out her long coat to use as a bedroll, her sack for a pillow, and lay down, but sleep wouldn’t come. Excitement still buzzed at the edges of her mind and worries circled like vultures, waiting the opportune moment to strike.

  She attempted to quiet her feelings, but it was impossible. It wasn’t pre-night jitters that kept her awake, it was the energies bubbling up from her source, keeping her mind active and her pulse speeding. Having pressed her capabilities in the past few days, she needed all the sleep she could get, so she practiced centering. She riveted her mind on one thing.

  Nothing.

  Clear blankness, narrow visioned, keeping all thoughts at bay. As her breathing calmed and her mind settled down and stilled, she sent a last thank you to the sands below before slipping away, at last, to sleep.

  She did not wake until Andulmaion shook her gently by the shoulder. The pressure of his hand felt . . . reluctant. Reluctant? Her mind began to circle around the idea.

  “Analindë, come. It is time.”

  The Twenty-Eighth Chapter

  THEY STEALTHILY CREPT ACROSS THE desert sands toward the forbidding fortress. Fine powder flew everywhere as they ran, embedding itself deep within their clothes and shoes.

  The closer to the fortress they got, the more powdery the sand became. It was finer than any Analindë had ever seen before, quite unlike the sands found on the western edge of the desert or along the seashore. Fine as dust. If the wind blew strongly, it would choke them. On they went, up and down dunes large and small, drawing ever closer to their goal.

  Arandur and Sintriel led the small party, searching for concealed traps in the sand which they might have missed. Analindë and Thalion followed close behind them. Andulmaion brought up the rear and cast a smoothing weave across the surface of the sand so that no trace of their passage would remain.

  They reached the top of the last rise in the sand and stopped to study the view before them. Panting, Analindë brushed hair away from her face, wishing she’d tied it back better. A menacing darkness loomed before them. The fortress was more massive than she’d thought; the void and the scrying bowl had not done it justice. She’d gotten its size correct but hadn’t sensed its brute force and strength. Overwhelming. Surely the walls themselves wouldn’t strike them down. She felt intent wake and begin to stir, similar to the door of the war room down in the old part of the school; she switched to magesight but saw no shimmering shields nor edges left un-feathered.

  “We need to be careful, I–” she called quietly over her shoulder.

  “We will be, don’t worry.” Andulmaion turned away from her to smooth the last bits of sand back into place. He and Sintriel had probably sensed the powerful watching barrier last evening and were prepared.

  As they slowly made their way toward the breach in the fortress walls, the pale dawn light increased. She saw that the fortress walls were unbroken solid smooth stone, save in one place. Directly in front of them lay the only opening, and open it was. An enormous blast of some sort had blown the wall apart. Gigantic heaps of rubble fanned out across the sands, leaving a gaping hole in the wall about sixty paces across. Massive hunks of rock had been left where they’d fallen. With no path cleared to enter the fortress. They’d have to pick their way over and around the heaps to enter the city.

  The small group descended the dune more cautiously than they had any of the others, wary and alert for danger. They were a good length away from the first pieces of the rubble when Arandur stopped. The scouts caught the signal he had flashed, but Analindë missed it and crashed into Sintriel’s back, almost toppling her. Arandur motioned for Andulmaion to stop his spell work.

  “Look and see,” he whispered. Analindë looked deep into the sands with her magesight but saw nothing.

  Sintriel spoke, “It’s an ancient weapon.”

  “I don’t see anything,” said Analindë.

  Sintriel continued, “Large scythe-like blades lay deep in the sand, each about twice the height of an elve. There are several sets which lay in a pattern resembling the bones of a whale.” The desert winds gusted past them; a soft swooshing sound accompanied it as it picked up sand. “When triggered, they’ll shoot skyward and collapse inward, slicing whatever lay in their path. . . . There is yet enough Energy in them to move.”

  “Andulmaion, why did you not find these before?” asked Analindë.

  He studied the fortress, “I can’t see them either. This wreckage most likely dates back prior to the Wars. If it was elves they guarded against, a weapon such as this would be shielded against those who searched for it. We are lucky Arandur and Sintriel sensed it.”

  “The good news is that they only extend up until the rubble you see before us,” said Sintriel.

  “Would it be easier to find the front gate?” Analindë shuddered as she imagined flying sand and slashing scythes. Nowhere to run, no way to see.

  “Analindë,” said Arandur, “This was the front gate. We believe no other entrance exists. However, there will be a passage through; it is our challenge to find it.”

  Sintriel spoke up, “I estimate that perhaps one, maybe two paths exist. The defenders would have known it safe to leave one small path open, because the guard could have easily picked them off. They’d need a few paths open for their scouts to come and go.

  “Don’t use any Energy as we pass, and step only where we have stepped.” Analindë nodded her agreement to Sintriel; Andulmaion shoved his hands deep into his pockets and turned to frown off at the seeming
ly short distance between them and rubble marking the entrance to the city.

  They painstakingly crept forward step by step, pausing every so often for the scouts to confer with one another before resuming the slow crawl forward for another few paces. Gradually a pattern began to form in Analindë’s mind and she began to see the path just before the scouts would decide upon it and point the way. She mused over her new talent, but said nothing.

  At last, they reached the edge of the rock field. Enormous mounds of boulders, two maybe three times her height, barred the way. Several narrow openings lay before her; the one far to the right shimmered at her.

  “A place of testing.” A note of wariness had crept into Thalion’s voice.

  “What does it mean?” asked Analindë.

  “What?” Sintriel asked at the same time.

  “A place of testing.” Thalion gestured at the words etched deep into a great boulder that lay not five paces from them.

  “Come, the way is clear,” said Arandur, pointing to a break in the stones just in front of them and to the left.

  The path to her right shimmered again; the path Arandur had indicated lay quiet and still. She cleared her throat and said, “No, Arandur, I believe the way lies there.” She raised her arm, pointing far off to the right at the path that shimmered.

  “No, the path is clearly mar–”

  “I, too, believe our path lies to the right.” A deep voice sounded directly behind her. Analindë jumped and turned to look up into Andulmaion’s face. “It winks at me to catch my attention.”

  Arandur stared off to the right as if he could see where the path would lead them, but shook his head in disappointment. “Perhaps your way does lie there, but ours is here. We will meet you on the other side of this place.”

  “So be it,” said Andulmaion as he strode toward the opening on the right; Analindë scurried to keep up with him.

  The shimmering faded away as they approached, and it disappeared altogether once they stepped upon the path itself. Mounds of rubble became steeper, forming walls to a corridor that wove between the two piles. She wondered what kept the rocks in place, from collapsing down upon them. There was no wind.