by Greg Curtis
As much as it hurt he had the elemental carry him up and lay him down on a rock shelf about fifteen feet above the bottom of the chamber, before he set it the task of walling off part of the fissure where the water came flooding in, enough so that whatever did come in would still be able to drain away through the cracks and breaks in the rock dam his elementals had made. And that was all he needed. He already knew he would be going no further for a while.
The sound of the water falling in would cover any noise he might make as he slept, and it would bring with it a little light and fresh air. The bone dragon if it advanced through the caves any further than it already had, would be incredibly slow and might well become trapped. In fact he wasn’t actually sure it could back up. It might already be stuck. And if it did get out and had the intelligence to realise the cave had a back entrance and that he might be trying to escape through it, would never be able to find him.
And in the meantime he had to rest. It wasn’t even a choice as the pain got worse and he discovered that at least part of his problem with breathing was due to the injuries he’d sustained. Somewhere between his shoulder and his chest he’d obviously broken something, maybe a rib, maybe all of them. And to make things worse he could taste blood in his mouth. That was never a good sign. He needed to sleep.
Of course there was always a good chance he might not wake up. He knew that as he lay there and felt the warm liquid still leaking from his shoulder and running down his back. If he’d had the strength he would have tried to examine his injury, maybe provided a little healing magic to help, but he didn’t have it. All he had left was just enough to summon a very small, very weak magma elemental to sit beside him and keep him warm.
Safety, shelter, warmth and a good place to hide. That was what he needed and it was about as much as he was going to get. He wished though as the pain took over while he lay there and the fear gave way to exhaustion, that he had more ability as a healer, some hot food and a good strong ale to drink as well, not to mention a small army of infernos to destroy the bone dragon.
It would have been nice too, to know that his wounds weren’t going to kill him. But even if they did he told himself, he had helped his mother’s people, and the dragons could handle the undead.
Maybe it was time to rest for a while.
Chapter Eighteen.
Ant was standing in the garden watching Ashiel as she carried out her duties and feeling somewhat pleased with himself. Ashiel was finally starting to come out of her cavern of gloom and into the sunshine. The work was having a therapeutic effect and having her mother with her day and night was also helping. Whatever the tragedy of her life was, and he knew it was more than she had admitted to him, she was finally starting to put it behind her.
Alan had done good he decided, even if he kept breaking his orders, and perhaps his punishment should be minor for it. A few more runs up and down the mountain possibly, something Han’gre would enjoy almost as much as the sunshine he was happily basking in. It turned out that the dragon loved Alan’s home as much as he did, and under the pretence of watching his charge perform her duties, he was actually sprawled out on the flat grassland just beyond what would have been the front gate, a small black mountain, snoring away contentedly as the magic of the land and the dragon merged into a sublime beauty.
The boy had a good soul as well as a powerful gift, and that he suspected was why Sera had chosen one so young to join her House, even if he was a handful sometimes. It had been a good choice in his opinion, though not one without its problems as the boy had a way of getting under everyone’s skin and somehow just making them adore him. There wasn’t a teacher or any other member of the house who wouldn’t have come running to help him had he asked. But then he came from good parents, and he had been raised well for all of the too short time that they had been a part of his life.
Maybe he wouldn’t punish him at all for his transgression, just growl at him a lot, as Han’gre was fond of doing. After all, his disobedience always seemed to stem from the same source, the compassion of his spirit. Others in his situation, given the terrible things that had befallen him almost from his very birth, would have been bitter and angry, and in truth that was there in the boy as well. But in him his ability to feel compassion for others transcended the darker emotions and made him the man he was slowly becoming. The man his parents would have wanted him to be.
On the other hand fitness was important for a member of the House.
It was as he was musing on the appropriate response for Alan’s disobedience that Ant suddenly felt a chill pass through him as a shadow crossed the land, and he looked up, startled, and worried. The sun was still high in the sky, still shining merrily, and yet it was as though the entire land had darkened somewhat.
Han’gre too had woken up and was looking around, confused and perhaps even concerned. And if a dragon was ever either of those things, things could not be good.
Something had happened he knew, something bad, and the land knew it as surely as did he.
“Why are you just standing there?” Ashiel’s words startled him, drew him away from his own sense of immanent panic to her as he saw she was talking to the steel elemental that was assisting her with the lifting and placing of the large corner stones, but which was suddenly just standing in place with a great piece of granite in its hands. Standing almost as though it was a statue once more.
“Put the stone in the wall.” She pointed and suddenly the elemental burst back into life placing the stone where she pointed, proving that it hadn’t suddenly reverted back into its elements. It was just some sort of seizure, but elementals shouldn’t have such things. They had no health to fail, no minds to break, only the magic of their creation. Magic that was bound intimately to their creator.
It wasn’t alone either Ant noticed as he let his eyes scan the land around them. The other elementals, half a dozen steels and half a dozen air elementals, which had been left with the task of patrolling the grounds and protecting the occupants of the house from any enemies, had also stopped moving. But they hadn’t started up again in their rounds as no one had commanded them to. That sent a chill down his backbone to match the fear that was clutching at his heart.
“You there, return to your duties.” He shouted it at all the elementals he could see, even as he began running for the dragon, fearing that he might understand what was happening, fearing that he might tell him what he didn’t want to hear. It was a very undignified thing for a member of Sera’s House to do, but right then he didn’t care.
“Han’gre?”
“It’s the boy.” The great black dragon turned to him, shock and sadness in his huge eyes, confirming all that he had feared. That the elementals had stopped because the one who had summoned them, the one that had given them their initial orders, was no longer around. The tie between them had been severed.
“Creator have mercy. Is he dead?” The last word as it flew off his tongue was more than bitter and he almost wished it had never existed, because it was simply too horrible to imagine.
“He is no longer among the living.” The dragon was ancient, probably many thousands of years old, and from his perspective all things passed in time, all people, all life, and yet Ant could see buried deep within his black eyes the grief that was already building for one he had known for such a short time. That was all the answer he needed as he collapsed to his knees in front of him, and fought to retain control. It was not an easy battle.
“But how? His task was not dangerous. It required his knowledge and his talents, and should have sharpened his thinking. But it should not have placed him in any peril, else we would not have sent him. And in any case he has a powerful gift. There is little out there that could do him harm.” Yet even as he was asking he understood the answer. There was one that would do him harm if he could; the necromancer, and for him to strike at Alan so far away from his home, that was not good. It spoke of knowledge he shouldn’t have had as he knew Alan’s destination, and that in
turn spoke of a traitor. Just as Alan himself had suggested once before.
“I do not know little friend. But Sera may, and already she is calling a counsel.” Of course Sera would know. There was little about any member of her House that was hidden from her and she had taken a special interest in the boy.
“Master Anthony? What is wrong?” Ant turned to see Ashiel, a look of panic and fear crossing her face, much as it must be covering his own, and beside her her mother, also obviously worried. They’d clearly guessed most of it from what they’d overheard, while he’d foolishly spoken out loud in front of them.
“It's Alan, isn’t it?” Ashiel’s voice was trembling as was she, and yet she knew. They both did. He stared at them feeling trapped, not wanting to tell her the truth, and yet not wanting to lie either. For the longest time he just stood there, not knowing what to say or do. But then neither did Han’gre as he hung his head in sorrow, unable to answer them, and the painful silence hung in the air between them.
“He’s hurt?” It was supposed to be a question but it wasn’t. Ashiel knew the truth, she just didn’t want to speak it aloud. To say it was to admit it.
“I don’t think he’s in any pain child. Go back to your work.” It was a flippant answer and one he immediately regretted giving, but at least it saved him from having to speak the fact of his fear out loud. He didn’t want to give voice to such a terrible thing.
“You mean he’s dead?” It was Maran who finally voiced the awful truth and her voice filled with shock and horror seemed to fill the land all around them. But then she was the only one who could speak right then, she was the only one who hadn’t known the boy personally, and even she looked far from happy.
“But how can that be? I owe him my family’s lives, my daughter’s life. My people’s lives. I have not thanked him for that, and now I will not be able to. He cannot be dead! The creator could not allow one I owe so much to, to die so soon. To die without knowing how much he had given us, how much we owed him. That is simply too wrong.”
“And besides, he was young and strong, cautious and brave, powerful and wise surely beyond his years. He would not take risks, not without a powerful need. So how could he possibly be dead?” What she really meant was that he couldn’t be. That it simply didn’t make any sense. The same sense of denial that was running through him even as he knew it was true. It was a while before he could answer her.
“We don’t know. All we know is that his light has unexpectedly passed from this world, and things are a little darker because of it.” A little darker, somehow it seemed almost black, and Ashiel was already letting a waterfall of tears stream down her cheeks. But as terrible as it was to see more pain on her face it was still a good thing he knew. That she could find the strength and the decency to grieve for another even in her own pain. That was good.
“My people will have to be told this. They will need to mourn his loss, to say their prayers and give thanks for his good deeds. But for him we would have slept for the rest of eternity in our stone coffins.”
“No!” Ashiel’s sudden outcry stopped her mother in her tracks even as she made her plans. It stopped them all with its pain, and what was etched into her face was worse, far worse. It frightened Ant in a way he had never known.
“He is not dead! He cannot be dead. I will not allow it! I have soiled myself with my betrothed to try and stop him from harming my people. I allowed him to steal my magic along with my virtue. I have murdered my innocent unborn child for fear that it would be demon cursed like him. I have betrayed my family, my people and myself. All of these things I will admit to. But I will never admit that Alan is dead.” There was a wildness in her eyes, a fury and a fever that did not look healthy Ant thought. It did not even look mortal, and yet she was finally admitting in front of her mother of what she had done and why she hurt. Surely that was good. Maybe. On the other hand he’d not known, not been told that she was with child, and the sin she was confessing to shocked him. It shocked her mother too who was standing there looking as though she’d been hit over the head with a mace.
“He knew my shame, and he saved me from it. He saved me from Afri. He saved my people several times over. He did not judge me, did not condemn me, did not cast me out as I deserved. Instead he treated me with kindness, with friendship even, and I returned his care with anger and spite. He showed me the truth and I repaid him with lies and bile. He gave me the promise of a future and I threw it back at him.”
“He cannot be dead! I will not allow it!” There was madness burning in her eyes, and insanity ringing in her every word, and Ant was frightened by her. He wasn’t alone as even Han’gre looked concerned. Her mother looked still worse, obviously frightened for her and clearly horrified as she heard her daughter confess surely the worst news any mother could hear.
“You there!” Ashiel screamed at the nearest elemental, a steel that had been helping her with the gardens, and despite the wildness of her screech it obeyed and came to her, the rock still in its hands.
“Find your friends in the village. The infernos, the lightnings, the storms and the air elementals. Send them after your creator. They must find Alan, they must bring him home as quickly and safely as possible. The air elementals to carry him, the others to protect him. Any undead that try to stop them must be destroyed. No other order takes priority over this. Do you understand?” Naturally the elemental couldn’t answer her, couldn’t even nod its head, but it dropped the rock it had been carrying, and that was surely a sign that it did understand.
“Good! Then go now! Run!” Ant was about to tell her that she was asking it to do things it couldn’t. That it couldn’t run and it couldn’t give orders to other elementals, not without a voice or a true mind of its own, when he watched in shock as the creature began to prove him wrong as it broke into a shambling trot as it headed north towards New Huron. Not as fast perhaps as a horse could gallop but surely as fast as a man could sprint and the twelve foot tall steel leviathan was soon disappearing into the forest beyond Alan’s home, the thunder of its foot falls like a small earthquake that followed it even after it had vanished from his sight. The creator have mercy he thought, on anyone unfortunate enough to be on the trails when this creature passed them by.
Later, once even the thunder of its feet had finally gone, he turned back to Ashiel, not quite sure what to say, only to discover that she was already wrapped up in her mother’s arms, crying. They both were, and he knew he didn’t want to intrude. Yet he had to know what she’d done. Not what she’d thought she’d done, but what she’d actually done. Because if there was even a chance that the steel could pass her orders on to the others, then she’d just left New Huron without its strongest defenders with a war on the way. Alan’s ability with elementals wasn’t just the strongest they’d ever seen, it was vital in the war ahead.
“Han’gre, if she’s done what she said, the village will be undefended in a few hours. We will need to set up patrols and soon.” Even as he knew what she had asked was impossible he had the horrible feeling that it was already destined; that soon the village would be undefended and the undead would come calling as fast as they knew how. The Huron were a people with knowledge that imperilled the necromancer, and he would strike quickly and hard the moment he heard they were vulnerable. And if he knew as much as it appeared he did about young Alan and his skills, that would be the moment he heard the boy was dead.
Chapter Nineteen.
Ulnor crouched among the snow covered trees, completely hidden from his quarry, and briefly cursed his fate. No rank, no status and no hope of ever achieving such things again, it was a terrible fate for an elf and a ranger to be without them. But in the end he knew, he had no one to blame but himself. The blood of the innocent was on his hands and it would not be washed away.
He still found that hard to accept and in that he was far from alone. But then among the rangers it had never been considered that the dark elves could be anything but Callenar. They were all simply demon spawn
. Alan Feralis was actually the first dark elf he had ever spoken to.
Some days he wanted to blame the annoying wizard for his predicament, as did so many others, but he knew that would be wrong. He had killed three of his people, and he had never bothered to check first that they were actually demon spawn. His punishment was just.
The elders had been very clear on that point. If one annoying dark elf wizard had been needed to make their words so clear, then that was beside the point. Alan Feralis had not directly harmed him. Of course he decided as he reached for his longbow and notched the arrow, that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be somewhat enjoyable if the dark elf wizard were his quarry. Especially when his every action seemed to be designed simply to show him how wrong he had been. First just speaking to him as an elf and denying any connection to the Callenar, then actually defeating one of the Everliving’s own demon inferiors in combat if the stories were true.