by Anders, Lou
“It’s not a pleasant one. Thica used to be a mighty empire in its own right. Then they lost all their colonies in Katernia to the empire in 739 EE. The Thican island-continent fell to the empire a hundred and twenty-three years later. Our mystery soldier was probably stationed in Castrusentis a few centuries after that.”
“Maybe not too happy about being a conscript, or seeing his own country conquered by another,” said Nesstra.
“So where does he go?” asked Greenroot.
Karn tapped the scutum.
“He goes where the riddle says he goes. ‘Where a crescent commands a straight.’ ” Karn walked to the bookshelves. “Leflin, can I see all your maps of the Gordion Empire? Particularly the ones after 616 EE.”
“What are we looking for?” asked Nesstra.
“We’re looking for crescents and straight lines. And I think we’ll know when we see it.”
—
Several hours later and they were still no closer. There weren’t many naturally occurring straight lines, even fewer inside all the various territories held by the Gordion Empire over the centuries. They combed over map after map, working by candlelight now that the sun had set and peering at every little detail until their eyes were blurry. Greenroot called for a break and served them a strong plant root–infused beverage that he recommended drinking through a straw to avoid sediment.
Karn sat in a high-backed chair and sipped his drink. Just as the first sentence of the riddle had indicated the city of Castlebriar and Grave Hill, he was sure the first sentence of the second stanza would reveal their next destination. He felt as if the answer was staring him in the face, hidden in plain sight.
He was so preoccupied in thought that he didn’t notice he’d finished his root tea until he reached the bottom of the glass with a loud slurp.
Greenroot flashed him a look of irritation. Karn realized he was probably being very uncouth by elf standards.
“Sorry,” he said. “We don’t use straws. We just drink out of…cattle horns.” When the elf’s mouth curled in distaste, Karn added, “Um, it’s not as bad as it sounds.”
Feeling somewhat embarrassed, Karn took the rye grass straw out of his cup and studied it. It was a hollow plant stem, slender and straight as an arrow. Straight. Narrow. With liquid passing through.
“We’re going about this all wrong,” he exclaimed, leaping from his chair and rushing to the table. The others joined him in surprise at his outburst.
“We’re not looking for a straight line,” Karn explained. “It’s a play on words. We’re looking for a strait. You know, a narrow passage between two larger bodies of water.”
“Of course,” said Greenroot, shoving some books off a large continental map. The three of them pored over the map with renewed energy. Karn saw it first.
“Look,” he said. He indicated a thin channel of water between Thica and their own continent of Katernia. The strait separated the northern Somber Sea from the Sparkle Sea to the south. A long peninsula extending from Thica’s western side even looked like a hand, thumb, and forefinger together with a pinkie extended.
Detail left
Detail right
“And here’s the finger,” said Karn, “pointing to this crescent-shaped bay. But how does it hold the fate?”
“That I can explain,” said Greenroot. “The city of Gordasha sits here on the western side of the strait. An enormous chain stretches across the water to the finger here, where the Thicans have a fortress. By ancient treaty, the Gordashans control the raising and lowering of the chain, and they only permit those ships that they approve to pass through the channel.”
“ ‘A little finger holds the fate, where a crescent commands a straight,’ ” quoted Karn. “It’s obvious.”
“Right, obvious,” said Nesstra. “Could it be any more obvious? Maybe if the riddle were printed in black ink on black paper.”
“That’s where the horn is,” said Karn, ignoring her. “I imagine the rest of the riddle won’t make sense until you get there.”
“So you mean to pursue this?” asked Greenroot.
“I don’t know,” said Karn. “I’m here to find Thianna. If she’s still in Castlebriar, I can’t leave. But I don’t know how far on this quest she got. Only that if the dark elves find the horn first, they won’t have any more need of her.”
“You really don’t care about the horn?” Greenroot studied Karn. “You aren’t motivated by greed or power or the lure of magic?”
“I told you, I want to find my friend. I won’t let her down.”
“Perhaps I need to reassess my opinions,” said Greenroot. Then he noticed Nesstra. She had left the table sometime during the conversation and now stood at a window, holding one of the room’s candles up in front of the glass. She seemed to be absently waving it back and forth. “What are you doing? Come away from the window.”
Nesstra started, and she stepped away sheepishly.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was just—just looking at my own reflection.”
“Vanity I understand,” said Greenroot. “But have some sense too. These are confidential matters we discuss.”
“Tell me about Gordasha,” said Karn, to pull Greenroot away from chiding Nesstra. “It was the capital of the Gordion Empire, right?”
“Not exactly,” scoffed the elf. “It’s the current capital—and really pretty much all that remains—of the Sacred Gordion Supremacy, the self-proclaimed inheritors of the legacy of the fallen Gordion Empire. They control the strait, which is one of the main fortifications preventing the Uskirian Empire from expanding south. The Uskirians have laid siege to it several times over the centuries, but it’s never fallen. Gordasha is a huge city.”
“Bigger than Castlebriar?”
Greenroot snorted.
“Try half a million people. Much bigger than anything you Norrønir can imagine.”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Karn. “If that’s where my path takes me, that’s where I go.” He looked at Nesstra. “I don’t expect you to leave home. But I want to thank you for everything you’ve done.”
Nesstra looked at Karn sadly. “I told you,” she said. “I didn’t want you to thank me. We’re even, and you don’t owe me anything.”
It was then that the dark elves attacked.
—
The window Nesstra had been standing in front of suddenly shattered. A rocklike object came crashing through. It landed on the table in the center of the map, belching a choking, noxious smoke. The parchment turned brown and singed around the projectile.
Greenroot’s front door shuddered as someone outside pounded it with something heavy.
“Upstairs,” Greenroot ordered, tearing a curtain from the wall and hurling it over the table.
Karn snatched the shield and started for the staircase, but Nesstra was hesitating.
“Come on,” he yelled.
The gold-skinned wood elf seemed confused, then she followed him.
Greenroot ushered them into his bedroom, shutting the door and locking it behind him.
From a cabinet, he took out a sword and a shield. Karn saw with surprise that it was a buckler. One adorned with a familiar pattern. He stared at the tree stump design in disbelief.
“You’re one of them,” he said accusingly. “You’re a member of the Order of the Oak.”
Nesstra’s darts were out. Karn pulled Whitestorm from its sheath.
“Save your weapons for the enemy downstairs,” said Greenroot.
“But—” said Karn. “Your society tried to kill us.”
“And I’m trying to save you now,” said Greenroot. “Get to the window and onto the roof. You can cross to the house next door.”
“Why should we trust you?”
“Don’t trust me, then. But only a fool fights in a flaming forest.”
The doorknob to Greenroot’s bedroom began to hiss and smolder, the metal melting like candle wax. Some alchemical concoction at work. The intruders would be through i
n moments.
“Why not just destroy the horn? You could have done it centuries ago.” Karn guessed when the elf didn’t answer. “Because you might need it yourself one day. You don’t want anyone else to have it, but you don’t want to get rid of it either!”
Greenroot scowled. “Perhaps our motives are not as pure as yours, Karn Korlundsson. Perhaps that’s why I am buying you this chance. Now, go!”
Nesstra was strangely silent in all this.
Then the door burst open, and several dark elves rushed in. Leflin met them with his sword and shield. Two against one wasn’t fair odds, but their small knives didn’t have the reach of his longer blade.
“Go,” Greenroot snarled.
Karn didn’t listen. Instead, he raised the ancient scutum and charged. He barreled into an elf and sent the assailant crashing down the staircase.
“Evening your odds,” said Karn to a surprised Greenroot, who now faced only one opponent. Then Karn opened the window.
“Nesstra,” he called, “we have to go now.”
The she-elf was still hesitating, but Karn pulled her along. Together, they climbed out of the bedroom and onto the sloped roof of the house. They were able to jump across the gap to the next rooftop relatively easily.
“Leaving the party before it’s over, are you?” said Tanthal. Karn saw the dark elf looming above him, along with another. “We can’t have that, now, can we?”
The elf with Tanthal drew daggers and advanced. Karn raised the scutum and readied his grip on Whitestorm. But he was on the roof’s edge, facing an opponent on higher ground, with his back to a drop.
The dark elf came at him fast. Karn caught a dagger on his shield, turned another with a flick of his sword hand. Once again, Whitestorm moved easily in his grasp. Orm’s blessing had made the sword lighter and easier to wield.
Karn’s opponent tried again. Karn worked his way sideways across the roof, trying to put distance between his back and the drop. Why wasn’t Nesstra helping with her darts?
Karn saw an opportunity and bashed his opponent with his shield. As the elf staggered from the blow, Karn noticed a strange powderlike cloud come off his armor. Sawdust!
“This is taking too long,” said Tanthal impatiently. He shoved his own underling forward into Karn. They toppled together, tumbling over the roof’s edge.
Surprisingly, Karn’s fall was cut short. The scutum was lodged between this roof and a neighboring house. He dangled from it. Beside him, the dark elf fell with a scream, followed by a thud.
“Oh, now, this is delightful,” sneered Tanthal, bending to peer at Karn hanging one-armed from the shield. “I told you the bigger victories would elude you.”
“You talk pretty bold for a guy who’s just betrayed his friend.”
Tanthal raised a boot, about to send Karn crashing to the ground.
A jet of white flame suddenly arced over Karn’s head. Tanthal fell back, surprised and cursing, shielding his face with an arm. The flame spat again, driving the elf farther away. Karn saw his armor was smoldering but unburnt. It must be resistant to fire.
Tanthal fled at a third burst. But where had the attack come from?
“Don’t just stand there,” said a new voice. “Help him up.”
Then Nesstra appeared, reaching down uncertainly to grip Karn’s sword arm. Awkwardly, she took Whitestorm, then guided him to a grip on the roof. He was able to release his hold on the shield and climb to safety.
A strange cloaked figure wielding a staff stood on the neighboring roof. Was the staff the source of the flame? Was it some sort of magical totem, like the wizards in the old stories?
“Who are you?” he said.
“One who would see you succeed in your quest,” said the stranger. “Go quickly before the dark ones regroup.”
Karn didn’t hesitate. He grabbed Nesstra’s sleeve and dragged her across the rooftops and away.
“I know where Thianna is.”
Karn and Nesstra were at street level. He was rapidly leading them toward the city’s east gate. Nesstra kept looking back. Karn thought she was afraid of pursuit or worried for her fellow wood elf.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I think Leflin knows how to take care of himself. Now we have to rescue Thianna.”
“But—how can you know where she is?” asked Nesstra.
“The elf I fought—he had sawdust on his clothing. I remember spotting a lumber mill just across the Westwater River. That’s where the elves are hiding. That’s where they are keeping Thianna.”
“A lumber mill?”
“Well, it’s not exactly a place that tree-loving wood elves would just drop by, is it? It’s perfect for hiding out from the Order of the Oak.”
“We only just got away,” argued Nesstra. “Now you want to go knock on your enemy’s front door?”
“Not when you put it like that—of course not,” snapped Karn. “But I came here to rescue Thianna, and that’s what I’m going to do.”
“Leave here, Karn,” said Nesstra with sudden urgency. “Go back to Norrøngard and live your life.”
“You can help me or you can desert me. But I’m going.”
Nesstra reached out hesitantly to touch Karn’s arm. The gesture made him stop walking.
“Tell me the truth—would you still try to save Thianna even if you knew it was impossible? If doing so might mean your doom as well?”
“I told you before, I’d do anything for her.”
The familiar sadness overcame the golden elf’s face.
“I’ve never seen friendship like that. I never even believed it existed.”
Karn dropped his gaze, embarrassed at Nesstra’s display of emotion. He wondered what sort of lonely life the little elf came from.
“This is the best time for a rescue,” Karn said, returning to practical matters. “While the dark elves are searching for us all over the city. Will you help?”
Nesstra pondered this a moment.
“I’ll come with you,” she said.
“You’ll help?”
“I’ll come.”
—
Having exited Castlebriar and crossed the Westwater, Karn and Nesstra clung to the thinning woods until the mill was in sight. Crouching behind a stack of felled trees, Karn watched the small cluster of buildings. Nesstra started forward. Karn stopped her with a hand on her arm.
“Wait,” he said.
Sure enough, a dark elf stepped out of the central building.
“They left a guard behind,” said Karn. “I wonder if he’s alone.”
“How do we get past him?” asked Nesstra. “And which building do we search first?”
“Let me think,” said Karn. He studied the area, his mind breaking up the terrain like squares on a board game, running moves and strategies.
“She’s in the main building,” he said.
“How do you know?”
“I don’t, but I’d bet on it. No lights anywhere else. Most of the elves are in the city looking for us. They’ve left a minimal guard, maybe only the one, so she’ll be in the same building the guard is in.”
“Okay, so that still leaves the question of how we get to it without being seen.”
“That’s easy. We swim.”
“Swim?”
“They won’t be watching the water. We can come up right alongside the mill’s dock.” Karn gave Nesstra an apologetic look. “I’m afraid it may be cold for you, though.”
“For me? Won’t you be cold too?”
“I’m a Norrønur,” Karn snorted. “You Nelenians don’t know what cold is.”
Despite Karn’s bravado, when it came to it, he was impressed to see that Nesstra entered the water without complaint. She slipped right into the chilly waters without so much as a goose bump showing. For his part, Karn found it awkward to swim with both Whitestorm and the Gordion shield. The river was rapid near its center, but by staying close to its banks they could make their way upstream and toward the mill without too much effort. Twenty m
inutes later, the pair climbed out onto the shore, dripping wet but unnoticed, in the shadow of the main building. A ramp designed for sliding timber down into the water made for a convenient ascent to the second floor.
As Karn was about to enter the mill by a second-story doorway, Nesstra touched his arm.
“Whatever happens,” she said, “believe me when I say I think Thianna is lucky to have a friend like you.”
Karn smiled, unsure how to react to this. Then they entered the mill.
Karn and Nesstra found themselves in a large, open space. A circular blade hung over a saw pit dominating the room. But that wasn’t what commanded Karn’s attention. All his focus was for the large girl bound to a great tree trunk.
“Thianna!” Karn called, racing forward.
“Karn?” said the frost giant’s daughter. “Karn, is that you? What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to rescue you,” he replied.
“Sweet Ymir!” exclaimed Thianna, beaming. “Did Orm send you? How did you find me?”
“Let’s get you out of here first,” said Karn. “Then I’ll tell you.”
He set about examining her chains. Her captors had wrapped them in fur, though why they’d want to keep chains warm he couldn’t imagine. While he studied them, Thianna’s eyes shifted over his shoulder to his companion. The giantess’s enormous smile faltered as Nesstra stepped forward.
“What are you doing with her?” the giantess said.
“She’s been helping me,” said Karn, confused.
“No, she hasn’t,” said Thianna.
“Yes, she has,” said Karn.
“No, she hasn’t.”
“Yes, she has,” insisted Karn. He couldn’t understand Thianna’s reaction. Did Thianna have something against elves?
“I don’t know what you are doing with that person,” said Thianna, “but she hasn’t been helping you.”
“We met at the Windy Willows,” said Karn. “I saved her from a mugging, and she’s been helping me search for you ever since. Nesstra, tell Thianna that you’ve been helping me.”
“I’d like to, Karn,” said the elf. “But that’s not what I’ve been doing.”