Unable to help himself, Laegon laughed hysterically. «Perhaps we should present him with another lute and position him in the front lines. Even possessed by an evil spirit, the Drulaack would run away screaming.»
«I would not even subject King Elthad himself to such horrific pain.»
«Good point. No one deserves that form of punishment.» Laegon paused, attempting to regain his focus. «So,» he finally continued, «we know the cause for his animosity towards both of us, namely you. And we know his reasoning for wanting to get his revenge for your despicable actions, though they were well justified. But what I do not understand is why he would choose to do it in this peculiar a manner and at such a crucial junction in our society’s history. His childish act of retaliation could lead to the downfall of all four elven races.»
«Aye, it is quite puzzling. He has nothing to gain. If we fail, so does he.»
«Indeed,» Laegon replied. «Unless...» The only reason he could think of why Erondelthen would even consider acting at such a critical time was if the failure of the elves affected him in a positive way. And even the thought of what that meant turned Laegon’s heart cold from fear.
«Exactly.» Brégen paused. «So, oh mighty Protector, what do you propose we do?»
«WE are going to do nothing. YOU are going to see if our suspicions prove true. And if they do, you are going to find a way to expose him and prevent him from doing any more damage.»
«Is that so?» the lion asked. «And do I have a choice in the matter?»
«Indeed you do. You can either do it willingly or unwillingly.»
«I see. And what will you be doing in the meantime other than dreaming of Irewen’s kisses?»
«While you are lounging about trying to find others to do your job,» Laegon retorted, «I will be doing everything in my power to make the Council’s desires come to life. Because if I don’t, no matter Erondelthen’s motives, Mistwood will fall.»
«So, I see you will not be doing anything critically important.»
Laegon smiled. «Not in the least, my friend. Not in the least.»
«Well then,» the Guardian replied with as much enthusiasm as he could muster, «we’d better get to it.»
«Yes, I suppose we had better,» Laegon acknowledged. «I cannot delay speaking with Irewen any longer.»
«Good luck, my brave Protector.»
«And the same to you, my friend.»
Laegon stood, stretched his arms, and slowly made his way to the door. His heart sank deeper into an endless pit of misery with every step he took. This was going to be the most painful and difficult conversation of his life. He prayed with every fiber of his being that when it was over, Irewen would have the heart and decency not to cast him aside forever.
Laegon hadn’t even made it to the door when Irewen burst into his room, tears streaming down her fair cheeks. Without saying a word, she rushed into his arms, burying her face in the soft folds of his gray and white tunic.
“What is it, Irewen? What’s wrong?”
Shaking her head against his chest, she said nothing.
Not knowing what else to do, he held her quietly, feeling her trembling body pressed tightly against his. Whatever the cause for her distress, he wanted to help, but he was at a complete loss for words. She was in no condition to speak. Without knowing the problem, he wasn’t about to console her by telling her everything would be all right, for he knew that could be far from the truth.
«Brégen...»
The Guardian’s reply was instantaneous. «Raina is explaining. Sit tight for a moment.»
Raina? Laegon had no idea why it was his father’s Guardian speaking to Brégen instead of Silevethiel, but this wasn’t the time to inquire. Instead, he held Irewen’s head against his chest. Kissing her soft curls, he waited for Brégen’s reply.
«Well, my friend,» Brégen said a few moments later. «It seems as though you no longer need to dread informing Irewen of the Council’s decision to send her into the wilderness on her own. She knows.»
«What! How?»
«It appears that while you and I were focusing on telling the Council why their decision was completely asinine, Raina, who was watching the meeting through Brandir’s eyes, relayed every single detail to Silevethiel. She knew the Dame needed to know of the ruling in order to help console Irewen once you spoke to her. Sensing something was amiss with the members of the Council, she also felt Silevethiel should witness the meeting firsthand. Raina never intended for the Dame to pass everything on to Irewen, but that is unfortunately what happened.»
«Bloody hell.»
«Do not swear yet. That was the good news.»
«Vreln.»
«You are going to have to swear harder than that to stop me from telling you.»
«Get on with it,» Laegon snapped, aware that Irewen’s sobbing was beginning to ease.
«Once the meeting was adjourned,» Brégen continued, the Dame immediately closed off her mind, as we did.»
«And?»
«She has blocked Irewen from her thoughts as well. The princess can feel a faint pulsing of Silevethiel’s presence, and knows she is safe, but that is all. »
«Bloody woman!»
Irewen stirred, pushing herself away from him. Saying nothing, she looked up at him, locking her eyes to his.
Her expression gave him pause. It wasn’t quite what he expected. There wasn’t a hint of sadness or defeat. Her crisp blue eyes stared at him with a peculiar mixture of concern, determination, and anger. But there was more. Something he’d got a hint of during their sparring in the cave. Ruthlessness.
Irewen wanted revenge.
“Everything will be all right, Irewen,” he reassured her. “I promise.” He considered saying more, but decided against it. At the moment, more words would only get in the way.
«I wouldn’t make any promises yet,» Brégen warned. «What you have heard so far was merely the bad news. Now for the horrible news. Concerned, as any Protector would be, Irewen ran to the Guardians’ residence where she knew Silevethiel had last been, but the Dame was not there. Raina and a handful of Guardians are searching for her, but to no avail. She has been attempting to contact me since the end of the meeting, but was obviously unable to penetrate my shields. No one has seen or heard from Silevethiel for over four hours.»
«Please tell me you are joking.»
Brégen’s silence was all Laegon needed to know that the Guardian’s words were true.
«Brilliant! Absolutely bloody brilliant! What the hell is that woman thinking? She is the damn leader of the Guardians, revered by every Wood Elf in Mistwood, and she is doing something even more idiotic than murdering an old elf’s lute.»
Brégen snorted. «I will not dignify that last remark with a response, but you are right. Silevethiel is the most revered Guardian in Mistwood. She is our Dame, the most powerful and wisest among us, and has just been told she is not allowed to do what is the sole reason for our existence: Guard her Protector. Without that, we have no reason for living.»
Laegon felt as if he was drowning in the deafening silence that followed Brégen’s last haunting words. «She wouldn’t...»
«No. She will not end her life. Though the Council has apparently deemed otherwise, she is still Irewen’s Guardian. They are bound. No Guardian would ever even think of intentionally breaking that bond.» Brégen paused, organizing his thoughts. «You must remember, Laegon, that Silevethiel was an observer of the meeting, not a participant. She has this uncanny ability to soak up everything around her like a sponge that has not seen a drop of water for a year. She can pick up on people’s intentions without them even realizing it. Absolutely nothing escapes her. I guarantee that she was able to come to the same conclusion as we did. Though she may not know the reason for Erondelthen’s hostility towards us, she is aware it exists and knows the Council’s decision was solely his doing.»
«So, what are you saying?»
«Councilor Erondelthen is also missing. Find one, and you find the other.»<
br />
Brégen didn’t need to say another word. Taking hold of Irewen’s hand, Laegon led her into his quarters. “I will find her, Irewen,” he said, firmly grasping both of her arms reassuringly. “The head of the Elven Council is also missing. The two disappearances are linked. Locating Erondelthen will lead me to Silevethiel.”
“I don’t care what needs to be done,” Irewen responded, her voice hard and cold. “Find her.”
Pretty certain her anger wasn’t directed at him, and too preoccupied to make a definitive assessment, Laegon called upon his Sight. He began searching through the expansive royal home for any sign, impossible as it would be, of the elder Councilor. As expected, Erondelthen was no longer in the home or in the immediate area.
Laegon slowly expanded his search. Clinging onto his memory of the elf’s essence, he made his way through Silverden, meticulously probing every inch of the city for even a faint trace of the missing Councilor. He didn’t close his Sight once leaving an area, instead leaving his mind open so he would be alerted if by some miracle Erondelthen returned to a section he’d already searched.
After what seemed like ages, the search of Silverden was complete. Realizing the elf had left the city, Laegon’s heart sank. Pushing aside his weakness, he once again extended his range, working his way through Mistwood’s expansive forests. He couldn’t speculate what had prompted Erondelthen to leave the city and therefore didn’t have even the slightest inkling of which direction the Councilor had gone. He had no choice but to expand the perimeter of his Sight in the shape of a ring, using his own body as the central point of the ever increasing circle.
When he’d searched a few miles outside Silverden, and there was still no sign of the elf, Laegon told Brégen to have someone check the stables. Minutes later, the lion’s reply confirmed his worse fears. Erondelthen’s horse was missing.
Four hours, Laegon told himself, wearily calculating how far the Councilor would have been able to travel at a full gallop. Still, with no idea of Erondelthen’s general direction or speed, Laegon was forced to continue his broad search.
He prayed he would have the strength to locate the missing elf. Already, his mind was beginning to spin. The strength was dissipating from his body. His arms felt like they were being pulled down by weights. He hardly even noticed his hands sliding down Irewen’s back before hanging heavily at his sides.
He swayed from side to side. Trying in vain to steady himself, he completely ignored Irewen’s panicked cry. He wanted nothing more than to dismiss his Sight, curl up on his bed, and sleep for weeks, but he forced himself to continue the search. Amongst all of the Wood Elves, his gift was the strongest. He was their only hope of finding both Erondelthen and the missing Dame.
Suddenly, when he didn’t think he could hold on for a second longer, he caught a faint trace of the Councilor nearing Mistwood’s western border. As quickly as he could, he sent the old elf’s position to Brégen, called off his Sight, and fell to his knees. Welcoming the blackness, he collapsed into Irewen’s outstretched arms.
20
A DAMP COLDNESS PULLED LAEGON FROM THE darkness. Groaning, he opened his eyes and squinted against the harsh afternoon sunlight flooding the room. Excruciating pain surged through his body. The room spun wildly at the slightest turn of his head.
Taking a deep breath, he waited for his vision to return to normal while realizing he had no idea what day it was or what he’d done to put himself in such a precarious state. Frantically trying to piece the tiny fragments of his memory together, he panicked.
He attempted to lift his head, then grimaced from the pain. Once again he felt his consciousness slipping away.
Suddenly, a whisper reached his ears, urging him to relax. Forcing himself to listen, he waited patiently. His vision slowly cleared. He recognized Irewen sitting vigilantly beside him, holding a wet cloth to his forehead. The sight of her pushed all other thoughts and worries from his mind. He summoned what little strength he had and reached for her leg with his fingertips, smiling when her expression changed from concern to pure relief.
Laegon opened his mouth, but she quickly placed her fingers on his lips. “Do not speak,” she warned in a soft whisper. “At least for a few moments. It will only cause you more pain.”
After he cautiously nodded his understanding, she removed her fingers and reached for an ornate silver goblet filled to the brim with a dark green liquid. She eased her hand behind his neck, gently lifted his head, and urged him to drink.
The thick liquid, almost the consistency of rich syrup, clung relentlessly to his tongue after he swallowed. The taste, sharply bitter but with a surprising hint of sweetness, was immediately familiar to him, but he couldn’t recall why.
“Lord Brandir has assured me your condition is simply a result of an excessive use of your Sight,” Irewen informed him. “I have been charged with force-feeding you this tantalizing concoction. You are ordered to get as much rest as you can and refrain from using both Míendvel and your Sight. Your father also told me a cold compress will help alleviate some of the pain in your head. I have made sure to keep a fresh rag on your forehead at all times.”
She lifted the goblet once more. Obediently, he took another sip, though it was much smaller than the first. He now remembered what was in the drink. Even the thought of the appalling mixture made his stomach turn. Redirecting his attention to something much more pleasant, he forced himself to swallow. The pain in his body lessened just a fraction, and he sighed with blissful relief. He never imagined it would be possible for anyone to be in this much agony yet still experience such a comforting joy.
He motioned for the goblet once more. Irewen obliged, holding it to his lips. He didn’t care how repulsive its texture was or how sickening its contents were. If it was able to relieve his pain that quickly, he would chug it directly from the pitcher.
“What do you remember?” Irewen asked when he’d swallowed all he could stomach.
He wanted to tell Irewen what he’d seen, but he thought better of it and simply shook his head. Though he was feeling better, even speaking one word could bring the excruciating pain surging back into his head in a fraction of an instant.
Irewen patted his hand, nodding sympathetically. She was quite familiar with what it felt like to wake up in pain, recovering from a traumatic experience, and not remember a single thing. Slowly, being sure not to leave out even the tiniest detail, she recounted the events of Silevethiel’s peculiar disappearance and the hunt for both her and Councilor Erondelthen.
He listened intently, scowling as the memories came surging back into his tired mind. Once he’d informed Brégen of Erondelthen’s position, Lord Brandir had formed a tracking party consisting of twenty of Silverden’s finest warriors, Protectors, and Guardians. Guiding them himself, they’d immediately set out to hunt for the elf. Silevethiel’s tracks were spotted without difficulty, following the same course as the Councilor’s, and the party’s hopes were high that they would find both with relative ease.
Only half of their wish was granted.
Erondelthen’s body, stabbed cleanly through the heart, was found a few miles past Mistwood’s western border in the mining country of Grelden.
Silevethiel was still missing.
Forgetting his pain, Laegon reached up and brushed away the tear that trickled down Irewen’s cheek. He couldn’t even begin to imagine the loneliness and maddening anxiety haunting her. “Were they not able to follow her tracks?” he whispered, thankful that it hadn’t caused him more discomfort.
She shook her head and tucked a dark curl behind her delicately pointed ear. “Apparently, a rather intense scuffle took place where Erondelthen was killed. It is unclear whether he went there to meet people intentionally or simply happened upon a hostile band of hunters. The ground around him was trampled so thoroughly that it was impossible for anyone in the party to clearly make out what had happened.
“Silevethiel’s tracks followed Erondelthen to that particular spot and then
vanished. For days, Lord Brandir and the others thoroughly searched the area around where Erondelthen’s body was found, hoping to pick up a faint trace of her paw print, but nothing was found. There is absolutely no sign of what happened to her or even a hint as to the direction she might have gone.”
Irewen closed her eyes, pausing for a moment to get her emotions under control.
“I have tried incessantly to speak to her with Míendvel, but I have received no answers. I can still feel our connection, though it is faint. She is alive. But that is all I know.”
“Has the status of her presence changed at all?” he asked. “Have you sensed any sort of fluctuation in the pulse or noticed even the slightest hint of danger?”
“No. Nothing. There has not been even the most insignificant variation.”
“Are you certain?”
“As certain as I can be,” she replied.
“What do you mean?”
“The moment she did not respond to any of my pleas, and was not waiting for me in the Guardians’ residence where she said she would be, I panicked. I was not thinking clearly and could hardly function. I was aware of her presence, but I was in too much of an unbalanced state to concentrate on the stability of the connection. It may have fluctuated during that time. I cannot say. A few hours after Lord Brandir and the others left, once you had been attended to by the healers and were resting comfortably, I regained enough of my composure and sense of mind to concentrate on Silevethiel. What I can say, with absolute certainty, is that since that time, there has been not even the most minuscule change in her presence.”
“That is rather...unusual.”
“How so?” she asked with concern.
“Guardians, as well as Protectors, are able to completely block anyone from their mind, except for the Protector or Guardian with which they have bonded,” he explained. “I will always sense Brégen, and he will always sense me. But even though the link remains continuous, it does not remain constant. Events Brégen experiences during the day will cause my perception of him to fluctuate. Even though he may not be actively revealing his emotions to me, I am still able to determine any deviations that occur. This, of course, applies to the link you have with Silevethiel. Even if she is not transmitting her emotions to you, you should be able to feel some sort of change in her presence, no matter how slight.”
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