The Coming Storm

by Valerie Douglas

  He wrapped his will and his Healing around the pain and shunted it aside, drained it away into the cleansing earth.

  When it was done, he was shaking and Ailith trembled like a leaf in a strong breeze. Colath had paled and sagged.

  Ailith watched him take it, saw that terrible pain appear in his eyes and her heart tore with a pain nearly as great. He saw it, she could see it in his eyes but even this he would do for her. His will, his heart and his spirit were bent to her. Somehow, somewhere, she found it in herself to stand and keep standing for him, and for Colath as well, lending his strength to her and Elon. She could see what it did to Colath, too, sharing this bond with both of them. His eyes met hers and there was strength enough there for both her and Elon. She’d never loved him more. True-friend to both of them.

  It ended, mercifully, as Elon drained the last of it away.

  The relief was great for all of them. Ailith sagged against their arms, then took a breath and tried to straighten.

  “Tomorrow,” Elon started to say and then shook his head.

  However much he might wish it, there was no choice. With his own vision, he had enough to convince at least two of the Three. The plan must go on.

  How to leave Ailith, though? If Tolan came after her again in dreams.

  To leave her alone to face this. He couldn’t.

  Jareth would be there, though, and Jalila.

  It wasn’t enough.

  Elon looked at Ailith. She still trembled but her eyes were clear and sure.

  Looking at him, although nothing showed on his face, Ailith could see Elon’s thoughts, his turmoil, in his dark eyes. Feel it through the bond. She knew, knew as he did that there was no choice. No other way.

  Lives depended on them. It was their honor and their duty.

  “I’ll be fine,” she said and smiled. A little tremulously but she smiled.

  “Tonight, he had the advantage of my exhaustion. If this happens again I’ll learn as much as I dare and escape as quickly as I can. If it goes as tonight has then you’ll likely know, though I could wish you wouldn’t.”

  So far away. It was bitter. Elon loathed it, knowing he would be so far away if she had to face this again. There was nothing to be done for it, though, no matter how much he disliked it.

  He exchanged a glance with Colath.

  Colath didn’t like it much either but he could see no other way, any more than Elon.

  She saw it.

  “Jareth and Jalila will be with me. I won’t be alone. And there is this.”

  The bond between them shivered with warmth and courage.

  Elon did something then that he’d rarely done, even with one of his own. He put his arms around her and held her close. She was so small. The top of her head barely brushed his chin.

  Wrapping her arms around him, Ailith leaned into his strength, felt the warmth of him. He hadn’t taken the trouble to throw on a shirt, so her cheek rested against the smooth skin of his chest.

  She reached for Colath.

  Taking and giving comfort.

  Colath took her hand, held it tightly for a moment.

  A few moments, that was all. They were all exhausted. Elon was reluctant to let her go but he knew he must. They had to rest. There was an equal reluctance on her part, he could sense it but she smiled a little.

  “Rest,” Elon said. “We’ll be there.”

  He pointed to the chairs.

  “Colath, we’ll ward her. For the rest of the night at least, we can assure she gets undisturbed sleep.”

  It took energy to set wards but he and Colath had it to spare and Ailith didn’t. If Tolan invaded her dreams again tonight, she wouldn’t have the strength to fight him. It was a simple matter to set wards, a thing of the mind, a small drain of energy.

  He felt Colath’s wards layer over his own as Ailith’s eyes closed despite herself and total exhaustion claimed her.

  It wouldn’t be an easy night’s rest but they had more good sleep than she.

  He felt Colath’s eyes on him.

  “You Saw,” Colath said.

  “I did. My own Sight. Our people will accept that as will the Dwarves, now it remains only to convince Daran, High King. He has no great love of magic, though he accepts his own court wizard well enough and the wards that were laid on that place. Avila, with her plots and schemes doesn’t help the wizards cause whether she knows it or not but even she’ll have to accept this.”

  Colath looked over at the sleeping figure on the bed. “It will be hard to leave.”

  Following Colath’s gaze, Elon nodded. He didn’t want to think of it.

  It would.

  It hurt now but there was no choice for it.

  Laying his head back against the chair, he considered what he’d Seen.

  Deliberately, he called up the vision again and looked at it more carefully.

  A great black tide washed from the north, building, gathering power behind the snow to stain it red and then it crested to wash down through the green valleys. He pushed away the visions of Aerilann and Lothliann, the dying and the chains and the empty Dwarven caverns. He watched the armies, marching too late to stem the wave. The standards, the ones that turned. He couldn’t see them clearly. Either that was still in question or it wasn’t certain.

  Looking over, he saw Colath was asleep. His own eyes were heavy.

  Ailith slept peacefully, her chestnut hair glinted gold and red in the firelight where it tumbled across the pillows. Her clear, direct eyes were closed. The terrible pain had been erased from the fine features of her face. Those firm lips were no longer tight but soft in sleep.

  So much resolution in her. Revelations as well.

  He remembered the way she had looked in Westin’s hall, every inch the Queen she might one day be. She’d said she could rule and he hadn’t doubted it but now he’d seen it with his own eyes. She’d said she could lead and she’d proven herself there as well, summoning the garrison, commanding the Hunters and Woodsmen who’d come. All he’d spoken to hadn’t questioned her authority, or her ability. Catra had been both impressed and amused by how she’d thwarted her commander.

  In the battles she’d fought both here and in her dreams, she didn’t stop, nor did she quit, nor had the thought even entered her mind that he could tell. She was resourceful and quick. It pained him to leave her.

  If the armies were to move in time, if the vision of his Foresight was to be made false, then they must.

  In the morning, he took Jareth aside. He could do this much for Ailith.

  “Ailith still dreams true,” he said.

  Jareth looked at him, concerned, cautious and worried. “What happened?”

  As always, Elon’s face showed little but his eyes said much. It had been bad, very bad.

  “I Saw it myself, the battle that comes. It will make this,” Elon said, waving his hand toward the shattered town beyond the gate, “look as nothing. I saw the Dark one she spoke of before, the one in the south. He’s Lord over Tolan and he waits for his victory. We haven’t much time.”

  There was more. Jareth waited.

  “Tolan isn’t well pleased and he took his displeasure out on Ailith.”

  Elon paused and Jareth saw a deep and furious anger in his eyes.

  He didn’t envy Tolan if Elon ever got his hands on him.

  Anger darkened Elon’s vision. He understood now how difficult it was for Ailith to say the words, for he didn’t want to say them himself and reveal the depth to which she’d been violated. Jareth had to know, though, to be prepared.

  “He showed her what it would be like to put a soul-eater on her.”

  Jareth couldn’t imagine it but the mere idea horrified him. He swore softly.

  His mouth tightening, a rare display of emotion, Elon said, “I loathe this. If it were not that he inadvertently reveals so much to her when he does it, I would ward her every night against it. I dare not. We need the information and she’s determined to bear it and does. Too many lives dep
end on what she learns, dreaming true. You need to be prepared, though, if she can’t break free of the dream, to ward her.”

  There was a moment.

  “Watch her for me, Jareth.”

  This wasn’t the First and Councilor talking, it was a personal request.

  Jareth hid his surprise but answered. “I will, Elon.”

  As much for himself as Elon. He liked Ailith, too.

  They went to join the others in the courtyard. Outside the walls, the Elves, Hunters and Woodsmen awaited. The garrison, too, the soldiers formed up in neat rows.

  All waited for Ailith to lead them through the Rift.

  None of those from the other side had ever needed to pass through that maze to this side.

  Elon looked at her. The rest had done her well, her eyes were clear and her color had returned once more. She returned his look with warmth and that wry smile that was so uniquely hers. Colath had Faer’s reins in hand and led him up. It was time. At the end of the Rift they would part, he and Colath to turn south, Ailith, Jareth and Jalila arcing northward.

  There was nothing to do but go.

  With the Rift behind them they saluted those of the garrison and sent the others on their way back to Lothliann.

  It was only them now, the five who’d begun this journey. Elon felt more than a tinge of regret. He had also wished to have one more bout of the forms, that amazing sparring, that sense of peace. He didn’t know when it was likely to happen again but he was determined that it should. Weeks only.

  Did he need to say it?

  Ailith did it for him, looking from him to Colath. “Be wary of the Trackers, both of you.”

  “I didn’t forget,” he said, his eyes on her.

  Leveling her gaze on him and Colath, she said, fighting a grin, “I’ll be watching, so be sure you do.”

  Elon looked at her. Watching through the stars in her mind.

  “Will you?” he asked, amused.

  This time her look was solemn, her eyes intent on his. “Always.”

  Her eyes went to Colath, before they returned to his.

  There was some comfort in that thought. He allowed himself a small smile and nodded.

  “Then we will.”

  “Have no fear, Ailith,” Colath said, “we’ll keep as safe as we may.”

  One last look, at her, at each of them and a clasp of arms and then Elon turned Faer’s head south with Colath beside him. There were no words, nor were any needed, there was nothing to do but go. It pained him more than he wanted to admit.

  They rode at speed, putting the north further and further behind them.

  For a moment Ailith watched them go, one dark, one light. Her heart wrenched but she quelled it. Duty called and she must answer. She looked to Jareth and Jalila. They met her eyes squarely and nodded.

  It was an effort but Ailith didn’t look back. Pushing, she set them a steady but not hard pace. They had a lot of ground to cover.

  The further north they rode the more the leaves changed. The snows of winter weren’t that far behind.

  Chapter Thirteen

  All three of them felt the absence of Elon and Colath acutely, Ailith knew. Certainly she did.

  Riding north, it was impossible for them not to notice the number of those that rode south. Almost all of those they passed seemed closed in on themselves, drawn tight. They huddled close to each other. There was little laughter and what there was sounded strained.

  Jareth nodded as they passed some travelers. “Look at their eyes.”

  With a sigh, Ailith nodded. “I noticed it, too. That look of fear and uncertainty. Caution.”

  “I saw it when I passed through here weeks ago but it’s much worse now,” Jareth said.

  They spent most nights at inns, not needing to talk among themselves as most folk did, and so they were mostly silent listening to the talk around them.

  Most of the inns were crowded, which was unusual at harvest time when the weather was mild. Not many folk these days chanced on breaking their trip in the open, even to save some coin. Most spoke only in whispers as if afraid of being overheard by someone or something while others spoke openly.

  There was much to talk about. Travelers and merchants had disappeared in the higher reaches, the bodies sometimes found and sometimes not. Some simply never reached their destinations. No one knew how many had disappeared unremarked. And what of the Marakisian traders? None knew. Travel in the north had abated with many fearing to pass that way.

  Some of these were from the north and now headed south, away from homes they and their families had occupied for generations. The yard outside the inn was full of wagons and horse carts drawn in behind the walls.

  To their surprise, once darkness fell the innkeeper barred the door. One of the nearby merchants told another in a hushed voice of a small inn further north that had been attacked by a firbolg. It had burst through the unbarred door. Unprepared for such an assault, a number of the patrons had been killed and more wounded before they’d been able to kill the thing.

  On the third night out, they stopped in a small public house in a small town.

  Ailith looked at Jareth. “They isolate the north even further with these predations. Those kingdoms in the outer reaches rely on merchants, traders and travelers for news, not just for the goods they bring. Without it, they have little idea whether they’re the only ones suffering.”

  He nodded. “If it gets bad enough, trade will stop altogether. Look around, there are few merchants and traders, far more are folk from the north escaping south as they may.”

  “Travel is difficult enough in the winter even in Riverford, which is more south. It was a brave trader who pushed so far out from the heartland even then. Most times, we hoarded our food against need if the snow and weather grew too heavy. The landowners and homesteads of the farmers must be suffering as well, with supplies diminished.”

  “With no visitors,” Jalila remarked, “there will be none to notice if they fall.”

  Ailith looked to Jalila. It was a chilling thought. Whole families dying, unnoticed.

  Her sleep each night was mostly untroubled.

  There had been one brief glimpse, Tolan’s voice saying, angrily, ‘They can’t find them’ but then it was gone.

  Who couldn’t find who? Had he’d loosed the trackers again, was that it?

  Elon and Colath were headed south, through more heavily traveled areas, which would obscure their track and trail.

  She did have one other dream.

  Elon, at ease if not at peace. He lay on his back at the foot of a tree, looking up through the leaves at the stars. For all that Elves kept their thoughts to themselves and revealed so little of them on their faces, she’d learned to see the subtle signs and differences. He was clearly thinking, considering, calculating, his stern, dark eyes troubled. Beyond him was Colath, keeping watch. He had his back to stone so he couldn’t be surprised from behind.

  It soothed her aching heart a little to see them safe and well.

  Among the stars in her mind their two she followed now and then, seeing them on their way south. It was not much contact but better than none.

  Cautious of her own warning, she scanned for the gray ones but couldn’t see them.

  If the trackers were searching, they hadn’t found either set yet or they were hidden among the multitudes of bright ones. That was her only fear, that she simply couldn’t see them.

  More troubling were the lights that went dark. They brought Jalila’s words back.

  Over the years she’d grown accustomed to the ebb and flow, to seeing some small part of her internal sky go dark here and there. The long constant glow of the Elves and the Dwarves were dependable constellations in that sky. She mourned the rare times when there was a gap in that steady glow, one she’d grown accustomed to seeing. Among the lands of men there were always some lit and some that went out, so it always seemed to be sparkling, an endless cycle. Some passed of illness, some of age, some born too young. In
times of pestilence or attacks by bandit or trolls, they disappeared in small groups. She’d become used to but not inured to it, especially the young ones.

  Sometimes they died violently as well.

  That part of her heritage was, as Talesin pointed out, somewhat prone to such things. Sadly. That bright star she also found, amid those in Aerilann.

  What troubled her now were the patches of darkness high in the mountains that grew even as she watched. A few here, one there, but more of them each day.

  She said nothing of it to Jareth and Jalila, but she knew what it meant.

  They rode out the next day, among the few who still went north. Many, many more were going south. Those that could or those that were willing to take the risk of leaving everything behind for the safety of the south. There were still many bright lights in the north, of those that wouldn’t, didn’t dare or couldn’t afford to, take the risk of leaving everything behind. Some, too, who were determined to stand and defend what was theirs.

  “This is Crag’s Head lands over the next few hills. Do you know Queen Esbet, Ailith?” Jareth asked.

  Ailith smiled. “Only once and that only a little but the lady has a formidable reputation that matched my experience with her at that one meeting.”

  With a sigh, she brushed off her clothes and then she stopped. “Oh, bloody…”

  “Ailith?” Jareth asked.

  Another sigh. “I forgot the circlet Doril lent me.”

  “It that all?” Jareth asked and held out a hand. He’d picked it up from where she’d tossed it on the bed, played with while they’d talked that day, he knew it from that. It was a simple fetching. He conjured and the ring of gold appeared in his hand.

  With a flourish he presented it to her.