by Brindi Quinn
It can’t be . . . relief?
He shot me a sideways glance.
He wasn’t actually glad that his mission is failing, was he?
“What’ll happen if you fail to deliver me to the elders?” I asked uneasily.
“Then you are going to destroy the world, are you not, Miss Havoc?”
“Miss Havoc, really?” I said, raising a brow.
He grinned and I rolled my eyes, glad that his mood had lifted since the scuffle.
“Seriously, though, what’ll they do?” I imagined swarms of Rend-like Elves pouring through the dense woods after us.
“They will send scouts, but undoubtedly they will not realize we have changed our course for a while.”
“Rend isn’t going to try anything, is she?”
He shrugged. “Most likely.”
I stared at him, confused. Wasn’t he the least bit worried at how this would all turn out?
“Do not look so worried, Miss Havoc. That hammer, did you get a good look at it?”
“Yeah . . .” Sure, it looked strong, but I was certain Rend could blast away Grotts with her wicked red light before he’d be able to take a swing.
“Did you see the crescent moons? It is not just a hammer. It has been enchanted. But not only is it enchanted, it has been enchanted by an Elf.”
An Elf? What did that mean? Nyte was doing little to clear up my confusion.
“How did that Grotts guy end up with an Elven hammer?”
“The hammer is not Elven, just the enchantment.”
He seemed to be enjoying my puzzlement. I struggled to keep up with his long strides.
“Why does that matter?”
“It matters because Rend will lose to him every time and because I know that design. I know which Elf gave him the enchantment.”
“And?”
“And you will just have to wait and see.” Smirking mischievously, he patted my head. “Just do not go and destroy the world or anything before then.”
To that, I feigned an annoyed growl. I wanted to be mad, but I couldn’t help grinning at his coded reassurance. He made me feel safe.
I quite enjoyed this new carefree mood of his.
The sun was sinking lower now, and the forest cooled as night neared. The approaching darkness must have awakened Kantú’s nerves because she suddenly bounded to catch up with us.
Nose twitching, she looked anxiously at the trees. “Are there really bad guys out here?” She looped her arm through mine.
“You mean besides Nyte?” I asked.
His smirk widened but then fell as he too scanned the wood.
“So, what exactly is Druelca, and what do they want with me?” I asked, following his scan.
It took him a moment to answer.
“One might say that Druelca is,” – he sighed before continuing – “misguided.”
“Misguided?” said Kantú.
He nodded. “They have long been searching for a way to cross the great ocean unharmed. Throughout history they have tried to use Elven power to aid their quest, oftentimes forcing unwilling Elves into labor. Thanks to Elder Nosrac, we were able to enter a period of peace with them two centuries ago, but if they really were responsible for Edaw, it means the truce has been broken, and they are extremely dangerous. Whether they think you the Heart of Havoc or of Salvation, if they are searching for you, then they must believe the time of the prophecy has come and seek to use your power. They will wage war against all Elves if that is what it takes to capture you. Moving you into Yes’lech’s hands is the safest option for you as well as the Kingdom.”
They would wage war to get the Heart? Is that really me? Am I a Heart?
His words weighed heavily upon me. I might be putting the entire race of Elves in danger by entering Yh’tak. I stared at the ground and tried to muffle the guilt rising within me.
Kantú clung onto my arm even tighter and asked, “Why do they want to cross the ocean anyway?”
“I do not know.” Nyte’s answer came a little too quickly.
It gave me the feeling he wasn’t being completely honest, but I decided not to berate the matter, having already squeezed out more information than expected. I decided, instead, to head in another direction.
“How do you know so much about Druelca anyway? Rend didn’t even know who they were,” I said, remembering the look of confusion she’d given Nyte upon first mention of the organization.
He let out a groan – like the question had caused him some unknown inner turmoil.
“Er, sorry.” I bit my lip. Had I pried too far?
He looked down at me with his chin in his hand. “It is fine. I will answer the best I can.”
“The best you can?”
He nodded and moved his hand to his cheek. “Rend and I had very . . . different upbringings.” The look in his eyes was dark. “She is actually the norm; most Elves do not know about Druelca. The elders sealed away any records regarding it at the time of the truce.”
“Then how do you-”
But Nyte dodged the question before it even escaped my lips.
“I am going to scout ahead. You two should fall back with the others for safety.”
With that, he vaulted into the darkness.
Kantú shrugged. “That was weird.”
It was weird. What did that mean exactly: ‘very different upbringings’? And the dark look that had passed over his face worried me.
There is darkness within him, I thought to myself.
“It can only be lit with moonlight,” answered a voice. The words had been hushed, barely audible, but I thought they’d come from Kantú.
Moonlight? Did I hear that right?
“Huh? Did you say something?” I asked. Or maybe it had been my imagination, some trick of the whispering forest.
She scrunched her nose at me. “Yeah . . . I said, ‘That was weird.’ You know, about Nytie darting off like that?” She giggled. “Knock, knock in there, Aura.”
Huh, I could have sworn . . .
“Yeah, weird,” I said, trying to shrug it off. “But at least we finally learned something. I’m so sick of being kept in the dark.”
“I’m so sick of the dark.”
True, it was becoming increasingly difficult to make out our surroundings with the towering trees shrouding us from the moonlight. Traveling through the night was going to be more of a challenge than I’d originally anticipated.
We rejoined the rest of the group.
“It’s gettin’ pretty hard ta see in here,” said Grotts. “Good thing we have a songstress now!”
Good thing they had a songstress now? What did that mean?
“Yes, Miss Heart, if you wouldn’t mind.” Scardo patted my arm expectantly.
I stared at the pair of them, trying to read exactly what it was I ‘wouldn’t mind’ doing.
“I’m sorry?” I said.
“Won’t you sing us a light?” asked Scardo, bowing.
“Oh! You want me to . . .” I blushed when I realized what they were asking.
It was true that I’d learned an ariando for illumination, but never had I been allowed to use it. I’d already broken the rule once, so I wasn’t really worried about that, but what would happen if it didn’t work? I didn’t want to disappoint anyone.
“Do it, Aura!” Kantú’s excited voice urged me on.
I wasn’t sure how I’d expected to travel through the dark woods exactly, but I now realized that they’d been counting on this from the beginning.
Ugh, really? My nerves started to act up again. In front of all of you? But I couldn’t very well let them down, could I? No, I realized that wasn’t an option.
With fists tight, I took a deep breath.
“Light of virtue, light of hope,
Light to drive away the void,
A new light born where there was none,
Light this song with spirit’s sun . . .”
Almost instantly a ball of yellow light shot out of my chest and hovere
d a foot above my head, illuminating the surrounding wood. I breathed a sigh of relief. It had worked again! And it was so bright!
Who’d have thought? First the rain and now this?
The song was heavy, but it wasn’t as heavy as the rain had been. It must’ve meant light energy was easier to wield.
“A bona fide songstress if I ever did see one!” said Grotts.
“Much better. Thank you, Pure Heart,” said Scardo.
“It’s Aura.” But I grinned at their praise, thoroughly proud of myself.
Kantú giggled and gave me a thumbs-up.
“Guess there is no need for me to scout any longer,” said a voice behind me, making me jump.
Nyte had slipped back into the group unnoticed and was now standing next to a very unhappy looking Rend. My neck grew hot. Nyte had heard my song. But so had everyone else, so why was it I only now felt embarrassed?
“I could have conjured a simple orb,” muttered Rend, arms crossed.
Kantú’s nose twitched angrily at the words, but she said nothing, reading the unspoken warning I gave as I shook my head at her. I knew Rend could wreak havoc at any time, and the longer we prolonged it, the better.
As we continued through the wood, saying little, my thoughts drifted. The smell of wet earth that lingered between the trees reminded me of a fishing trip Illuma and I had gone on long ago. Father had been reluctant to let us invade his alone time, but Mother had convinced him to let us tag along.
“It’ll be good for them to learn. What if they fail their songstress training? At least they’ll have fishing to fall back on,” our mother prodded.
“Mother! Don’t even kid! Aura and I would never fail our training. I’d run away before becoming a fisherwoman!” Illuma was dramatic as usual.
“It is in your blood to become a great songstress, I suppose;” said Mother, amused, “but nevertheless, you’re going.”
We traveled to Father’s hidden dock, where willow arms dipped tenderly into the water, their runaway leaves riding the current to faraway places. Father attempted to teach us his secret bollgrub baiting technique, but Illuma and I were far too enticed by the scenery to pay any attention.
“It’s so dreamy!” said Illuma. She picked a nearby dandrill puff and proceeded to blow it at my face. The white tufts floated airily around me like a light flurry of snow before being pushed away by a short gust of sea air. Illuma busied herself with picking out the few tufts that clung to my hair and stayed behind.
“I could stay here all day!” I said a little too loudly. Father’s shoulders tensed. It seemed he was already regretting letting Mother talk him into bringing us along.
“Oops! Sorry!”
Illuma tried to suppress her giggles. She grabbed my hand and pulled me away from our timid father. We set off to explore the dock’s surroundings. The earth around the water was damp and mushy. I slipped off my sandals and dug my feet into the cold ground.
“Pee-yew!” said Illuma.
But I loved the smell. It reminded me of the moment after rainfall, when everything took a small break before continuing on with life. Illuma picked up a fallen branch and poked it into the ground, carving a zigzag line as we walked.
“Aura?”
“What?” I curled my toes into her design.
“Do you ever . . . feel your song? Inside of you?”
“Feel it?” Even though a year still remained before we were to start our training, I knew enough to know that such a thing wasn’t possible.
“Yeah,” she said, “sometimes I can feel it moving around, like the song just wants to come bursting out of me. Is that weird?”
I thought for a moment. “Doesn’t that sort of thing only happen after you eat Parnold Rekrap’s famous morningberry pie?” I grinned at her.
“Aura!” She swatted me lightly on the butt with the dirt-covered branch.
Father looked back at us with pursed lips, for our giggles resounded throughout the willows.
I carried Illuma’s words with me now as we traveled toward Yh’tak, for the chilly night air filled my nose with that same earthy scent.
Feel my song? Even after completing songstress training it had never happened to me.
My song. Was it still in there after leaving the Rite midway? Would I ever be able to retrieve it now? I pushed the thought away. It was too worrisome to think about . . . for now.
As night wore on, our brisk pace slowed to a lazy trudge. Nyte and Rend were muttering softly behind me, and every now and then Grotts would peer over his shoulder at them, all the while holding his hammer tightly, like he thought they were conspiring against him.
It was more likely that Nyte was trying to talk some sense into the bitter Elf. I hoped that was what they were up to anyway.
I looked over at Kantú, who had wedged her tail around her neck as a makeshift pillow. Her face was gaunt. I was nearing exhaustion myself by this time, and the Elves’ murmurs, mixed with the hum of the forest’s evening insects, lulled me into a daze. My head bobbed, and the light flickered.
Grotts peered at me, concerned.
“The morning sun should begin creeping through the canopy in an hour or so. Can you make it until then?” asked Scardo.
“Yup!” I snapped my head back up, and the light pulsed to full brightness before again dimming slightly.
The song was getting heavier, but I somehow managed to continue on, though half asleep, until the morning sun did indeed peek through the canopy. That was when I fully released the light.
At that point, Grotts turned around, and as if I were weightless, slung me over his shoulder, letting his hammer drag beside us. Though I was grateful, the motion embarrassed me, and I protested weakly.
“Sleep, Miss Aura, ya did good,” he whispered in a low rumble.
I was too worn out to hold back. I nodded and allowed my lids to droop a bit.
Grotts’ arms were too solid to provide any sort of cushion, but it didn’t matter. The weight of tiredness won, and my lids drooped even more. The last thing I saw before drifting off to sleep was Nyte scooping Kantú into his arms and cradling her.
Would she too get to experience his warmth? The thought made be inexplicably jealous.
That warmth . . .
Chapter 5: The Fog
“Stop!” Nyte’s panicked voice jolted me awake.
I opened my eyes and groggily searched for the distressed Elf before being blinded by a flash of red. Grotts had been carrying me, but he now threw me down and shielded me with his hammer from the sudden red burst. The fall did little to help my achy body, which was still stiff from sleeping at such an odd angle.
I rubbed my hip and looked around in confusion as my eyes started to adjust. The forest had thinned and was now dotted with large, jutting boulders. The morning sun flooded the trees, lighting up a particularly large oak that loomed ominously above our disarrayed party.
I let out a shout. “Hey!”
Nyte appeared to have tackled a very furious Rend, who was struggling wildly beneath him.
“How dare you, cousin!?” she spat. “We cannot allow these brutes to enter Yh’tak!”
“Look around you, Rend. They possess Elven magic that far exceeds yours.” He pointed at the hammer’s crescents, which were now pulsating with power and glowing a mystic blue.
Nyte was right. Grotts and I had managed to survive the attack widely uninjured.
“You would turn your back on your kind for this girl?” Rend glared scathingly at me.
“An Elf’s pride is not lost on me,” he insisted. “Just listen for a moment-”
But Rend wouldn’t be reasoned with. She continued to wrestle beneath him with wicked fury in her eyes. Nyte looked to be winning, but Rend’s strength was fueled with an angry adrenaline, and it seemed she might break free at any moment. I scanned my memory for the most powerful ariando I could remember, certain I’d be her first target upon escape.
Then suddenly – “There’s a man there!” cried Kantú. She w
as several feet away, clinging to Scardo, who had his bow drawn at Rend and was waiting for a clear shot.
I grimaced, and following her finger that was pointed just above my head at the ancient oak, turned in time to see a hooded figure leap silently from one of its branches. He aimed his hands at Rend, and a blue glow matching that of the crescents shot from them, knocking her back against a mossy rock. The raging woman started to stand but stopped when the man lowered his hood.
She let out a gurgle.
The leaper was not a man at all, but a heavily wrinkled Elf with a wiry, white beard that carried a slight green hue. He stood and silently surveyed the group, looking both wise and fearsome, towering before us.
“Greetings, Elder Pietri,” said Nyte, bowing low.
Elder Pietri? I searched my memory for where I’d heard the name. ‘Something was odd about Elder Pietri before we left.’ That night at Heaven’s Den Nyte had spoken of him. An elder? But that means-! Was he here to cap me?! But I’d hoped we’d avoided that! If he was an Elf, then he must be an enemy – but then, why had he attacked Rend?
I studied Nyte’s face for an answer but found none. Though his eyes were vibrant, his expression was cool.
“Your . . . Your Excellency.” It was uncanny to see Rend so respectful. She hurried into a bow beside Nyte as if completely forgetting that the ancient Elf had just thrown her against a rock.
“At last,” said Elder Pietri in a wheezy drawl, but his remark wasn’t directed at either of the Elves; nor was it directed at Scardo and Grotts, who’d lowered their weapons and were surprisingly calm; and it certainly wasn’t directed at the very confused Kantú, who was crouched down timidly in squirrel position, twitching her ears fervently.
Any of these might have made more sense in that moment, but it was me whom the Elven elder locked eyes with.
“It was my intent to meet you in Edaw,” he wheezed, “but with the evil about in the timber, it was imperative that I change my plans.” He didn’t take his eyes from mine.
I wanted to look away, but his gaze was too intimidating. It held me in place. Still, I intended to escape it, but before I could, the elder walked over and placed one aged hand above my head.