by Lori Holmes
“But then the Great Winter came and nearly wiped us all out. Ea did not return. Lost and without hope, we turned our backs on the teachings of the traitorous gods. It served us well and we have grown strong enough to survive without them. But, once again, the world is shifting.” Juaan gave a bitter laugh and his expression grew sad. “I’m sorry to shatter your cozy illusion of blame, but we have no power to lend a supposed god who brings the cold, elf. We pray for Ninmah, as you call her, to regain strength and push back the winter. But she does not listen any more than Ea.
“Perhaps we are being punished for having the audacity to survive when they clearly did not wish it but, either way, I fear the world we know is dying and there is nothing that you or I or anyone else can do to stop it.”
She did not answer, she was lost in thought. He watched her as the darkness faded to grey but her expression remained troubled, her thoughts hidden from him.
It was nearing dawn when she finally left him. He had heard no more calls from his men. He could think of nothing else to delay her.
“When will you be back?” The need to reach out and pull her back to him, to keep her safe within the protection of his arms was almost too much to resist. He could not bear the thought of her out in the unknown without him.
“Tomorrow night. Wait for me.”
A smile spread over his face. “For as long as these walls stand… Nyriaana.” Her name burned upon his lips. “Keep the wolves close.”
She appeared somewhat dazed as she clambered up her root.
Stay safe, come back to me. He watched her until she was gone.
13
Attack
It had worked better than Galahir had hoped. Banak had entered the forest at dawn ahead of him. He had not been happy at the prospect of going alone, but none of the other men could be persuaded.
After Banak had disappeared, Galahir had waited for his turn, counting his heartbeats. He had had to be sure the elves didn’t expect a second intrusion and focused all of their attention on Banak, leaving Galahir free to search for as long as he needed.
They had taken the bait. Banak had led them to the west. Galahir had headed east.
The Light Bringer rose in the Sky above him as he searched, whistling out every so often in the hopes of receiving an answer. Khalvir did not respond but the light of day gave Galahir the clarity he needed to see his surroundings.
He knew this part of the forest, he realised with a thrill. He listened carefully. Sure enough, he could hear the telltale sound of a river babbling; a background noise to the constant din of the forest. He had heard the very same sound on that fateful night when they had found the elves settlement. Galahir’s heart began to beat double time as he ran towards the sound.
The river was wide but shallow. Coming upon its banks, Galahir quickly stooped, removed the oxen skull from his head and drank his fill, splashing water on his hot, sticky face as he did so. There was hardly any breeze through the trees to shift the heavy atmosphere.
Refreshed, Galahir studied the area, thinking. If he followed this river upstream, then he would eventually find what he had been looking for. Shoving the skull back into place over his sandy hair, Galahir gathered his arshu and struck out in his chosen direction.
The Light Bringer was somewhere high overhead when he began to pick up the first signs that his instincts had proven correct. Then he heard the voices. Elven voices.
He had found the settlement.
Creeping forward on hands and feet, Galahir peered over the undergrowth and beheld at last the massive trees that the elves called home.
It took all of his restraint not to go charging forward, arshu in hand and mount a rescue attack. He didn’t need Khalvir to tell him what a foolhardy move that would be. He was amazed that he hadn’t been detected. He had expected the settlement to be heavily guarded since their raid. Using Banak as a decoy had worked better than Galahir had dared to hope. All of the sentries must have been sent to tail him.
Galahir sank down into the undergrowth, careful to keep out of sight as he settled in to observe.
He was shocked to see how few of the elves there were. As the Light Bringer passed overhead, he only counted ten elves. Most were dark headed with the occasional silver-hair to be seen climbing up or down one of the numerous trees. Galahir watched their behaviour closely, searching for any hint that Khalvir was being held captive in any of their strange dwellings. None were being guarded that he could see.
He risked giving out a soft, querying whistle. If Khalvir was present, he would hear Galahir’s signal and respond.
He sank further into the undergrowth when several pairs of curious eyes lifted at the sound of the strange ‘bird call’. Of course the elves would know every bird in their forest and could tell instantly if a sound was out of place. Galahir could not take such a risk again. His gamble did not pay off for there came no reply.
Letting out a frustrated breath, Galahir observed the elven settlement for a while longer before concluding that Khalvir was not there. It would be unwise to remain any longer. Banak would most likely have left the forest by now and the elven sentries could be returning at any moment.
Backing up carefully, Galahir disappeared back into the outer forest. Disappointment thudded through him. He had been so certain that if he located the settlement, then he would find Khalvir. The doubt that the answering whistle that he had heard several nights previously had been real sank into his heart.
He headed further east as the Light Bringer began to wane overhead. He could not resist letting out a few more calls as he went.
Silence.
Galahir kicked at the earth. He could not quite bring himself to return to camp yet. He did not want to see the vindication on the other men’s faces when he once again returned empty handed. This was his last chance. Exhaustion swept over him. He had hardly slept for days. sinking down against a tree, Galahir tilted his head back and closed his eyes. He needed to think…
The sound of a whistle startled Galahir awake. Gasping in shock, he leaped to his feet. The forest around him was now dark. Wolves were howling in the distance and the hairs on his arms rose in response. He had fallen asleep!
It was not the wolves that had woken him though. It had been a hunting whistle. Someone was calling him.
Khalvir?
Before he could form another thought, the signal sounded again. It was close. Galahir grabbed his arshu from where it had fallen at his feet and ran in the direction of the sound.
He slowed when he felt a very familiar and unpleasant prickle run up his spine. An elf was nearby. Galahir cast his eyes around, hardly daring to breathe. Where are you?
Then Galahir spotted him. It was a dark-haired male and he was sitting in the low branches of a tree. Galahir ducked quickly out of sight. The elf hadn’t seen him, he was focused on something to Galahir’s right. Galahir followed his line of sight and felt his breath catch when he recognised Banak’s stag skull standing away in the blackness.
Movement drew his attention back to the elf and he was in time to see a cruel smile play over the thin lips as he raised a blowpipe to them, taking careful aim at Banak. Before Galahir could raise a warning, the elf blew sharply into the pipe.
“Aarrghh!” Banak’s cry of pain drowned out the noise of the forest, crumpling as something struck him in the midsection.
No! Without a thought to his own safety, Galahir sprinted forward towards his stricken comrade in arms. He caught Banak before he could hit the ground. Blood was starting to soak the other man’s furs and Galahir reached down, ripping a long, wicked looking barb from Banak’s belly.
He could no longer see the elf. Heart in his mouth, Galahir stooped and slung Banak across his shoulders before running as fast as he could back towards the safety of the camp. He had to get as far away from here as possible. He had no idea how many more of them could be waiting, readying to strike.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded of Banak as he flew through the trees.
“S-searching for you,” Banak coughed. “I owed you after you saved me from that spider.”
“You shouldn’t have come,” Galahir growled. This was all his fault. The others had warned him that the elves had something planned and he had not listened. Now Banak had paid the price for his foolishness.
Galahir knew for certain now that until Lorhir returned, he would not be able to enter the forest again.
* * *
14
Power
He could no longer deny it. He had fallen in love with the elf witch who held him prisoner. And with that admittance came the knowledge that he had to find the strength to leave her, for her own good. It wasn’t as if she loved him back. Not him, Khalvir. It was this Juaan that she loved.
His heart contracted. He did not want her to see him as an enemy. He could not bear to lose that look of trust and love, no matter that it was meant for another, and see it replaced by resentment and hate. But what else was there? He thought again of what his chief would do if this girl ever came into his clutches. Khalvir felt as if someone had closed their fist around his heart and squeezed. He would rather lose her regard than see her fall to such a fate.
He did not hear his men calling for him again, but that did not mean they had given up.
The Light Bringer rose in the sky but the clouds were closing in. Thoughtfully, he lifted the little leather pouch at his waist, weighing it in his hand. For the first time ever, he had the strangest urge to pull open the bindings and look inside, to see the contents he could feel beneath its smooth, supple skin. His fingers trembled at the opening, hesitating.
He dropped it quickly. He couldn’t do it. He wasn’t ready to discover the secrets of what lay within. Not yet.
The shadows were restless above him as the wind rustled in the trees. It was going to rain again, he could smell it. Khalvir groaned. He paced. Dozed. And then paced some more. The day wore on. He came to the unpleasant realisation that when one was trapped, rocks became so much more interesting.
He was bouncing pebbles against a chosen target on the far wall when a rustling overhead caught him by surprise. Khalvir shrank back against the rock, taking a defensive position. She never came during the day. He bent slowly to pick up a large rock, and waited.
“It’s me,” she whispered down, her face appearing above. He let out a breath and quickly dropped the rock.
She slipped down into the pit, handing him the food she had brought. They settled into their customary positions as he ate the offering. She was quiet. For the first time he could see everything clearly in the revealing light of day. The exact shade of her honey skin, the draping leaves she wore over her slight frame. The hollows of her cheeks cast harsh shadows, the skin under her eyes appeared bruised. She looked like she hadn’t eaten or slept for days. Khalvir tightened his lips as the conviction that this situation must end hardened within his chest. It was killing her.
All of this he took in from the corner of his eye, not wanting to stare and make it apparent that he was studying her so closely. She, however, had no such reserves. She peered openly at him with her tired eyes, staring at him almost hesitantly as though she had never really seen him before. A frown creasing the skin at her brow. She did not appear at ease.
She looked like she had been deeply shaken by something and was having to come to terms with the outcome. Khalvir felt a shiver of apprehension at the thought that she was finally seeing him for who he was. He wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.
He tried to keep his voice light as he asked. “What’s the matter? You’re looking at me as if I have two heads.”
She shook herself. “Sorry.”
“World on your shoulders?”
“I’m reassessing it.” She murmured. “It’s difficult.”
“Ah.” He swallowed the last bite with difficulty, waiting for it to happen. She had finally come to see the truth about him. He could see the change in her eyes. “Anything to do with me?”
“Everything to do with you. You’ve caused me nothing but trouble.”
He had. His lips pulled down. “Then let me go,” he pleaded softly. Let me go before I must hurt you.
Hurt flashed through her eyes, he heard her soft intake of breath and his heart sank. He knew what her answer was going to be. She was seeing him anew but not yet clearly enough.
“I can’t.” Her voice trembled. She took a moment to compose herself. “I’m sorry,” she said in a steadier tone. “I can’t let you go. Not yet.”
Khalvir looked up into the coverings above and sighed. Drips of cool rain were beginning to seep through the gaps and fall upon his upturned face. She was going to take this to the bitter end. He would have no choice but to hurt her.
“I wasn’t expecting anything different, though it would be better for you if you did.” His voice begged for her to heed his warning, to grasp the risk she was taking by keeping him here. He was amazed his men had not found him yet. Perhaps the wolves had given them pause in their search.
She came and sat close beside him. He allowed it. The end was coming and he would selfishly take everything he could get before that happened. That sense of completeness washed over him again, a balm to his soul. He closed his eyes, savouring the feeling.
“I can see your mother in you.” The soft words came out of nowhere, soft like a velveted spear-head. They ripped through him, shattering his feeling of serenity. “She was of my tribe.”
“I do not care who she was,” he cut her off, struggling against his sudden anger. She had no right to pry. “And I do not want to know. I admit I may carry elf blood but not gladly, I am nothing of you.” He lashed out.
“Yes you are.” She was not going to back down this time, determination glinted in her eyes. “You are more of us than them. I wish you could remember. I wish you could remember me.”
He remained silent, fighting with himself. He could not accept her words. He had to keep a hold on himself or he would bring about the end right now.
Her frustration was palpable. “What do you remember?”
He was proud when he managed to keep his voice sounding merely irritated. “I was found in a forest. My chief told me an elf clan had been about to kill me. Elves do not believe in half-breeds.” He spat. “We are named Forbidden to all others. You say we are the evil ones but your people would have put me to death simply for who I was. Because the so-called gods tell you that it should be so. That fact I have never forgotten.” He gave her a chilling glare. “Luckily we ‘Woves’ have none of your superstitions. We know better. My clan took me in and nursed me back to health. When I was strong enough, I became raknari, a position of high honour. I protect my clan from those who would do them harm. That is all I know. All I need to know.” He folded his arms and kept his eyes away from her.
“No!” She denied. “That’s not what happened. You were lost protecting me from being taken by the Woves. They were going to kill me but you would not let them.” He could hear the emotion thick in her voice. “We were only children. I thought they’d killed you. I thought I’d lost you forever but now here you are and you remember nothing. Your mother-”
“Abandoned me,” he growled, the pain of having her mentioned closing his throat. “She would never have kept a Forbidden child. She would’ve killed me. They tried to.”
“No!” she hissed fiercely. “Your mother never abandoned you. She fought for you. She died keeping you alive through the long Fury. You owe her your life as I owe you mine.”
“You owe me nothing,” he growled. He got to his feet and walked away from her. She was hitting too deeply. He opened and closed his fists rapidly as her words set off more half confused images in his mind.
A gut-wrenching fear fuelled his anger; fear that what she said might be the truth. He could not make sense of these sensations that he could barely grasp, this need to be near her, the need to protect her. Could he actually be the boy she spoke of?
No! He shook his head to clear it. To accept that
would be to accept that his entire life had been based on a lie. These feelings of familiarity were nothing more than an effect of her power over him. He would not, could not, accept that what she told him was true. He blocked out the shadows in his mind that fought to make themselves known. Lies, all of it. It wasn’t real. “Say no more.” He strained the words between his teeth. “I will not hear it.” Do not do this to me! I am Khalvir! I can’t be who you think I am. I am not the one you love. He felt his head would burst.
She let out a frustrated breath and relented. “Well, what shall we talk about, then?”
He took a few deep breaths, fighting to regain some semblance of composure. He spied something out of the corner of his eye. “That rock looks a bit like a wolf if you squint at it long enough,” he said dryly.
She stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. The sound chased away the last of his demons. He realised he had never heard her laugh before, not freely or without bitterness. His love for her impossibly found new depths. “I’m glad my boredom amuses you,” he grumbled without any real annoyance.
The rain started to fall harder. Khalvir sank back to the floor and huddled into his furs, resigning himself to yet another soaking.
She was watching him closely again. “Are your injuries bothering you?” she asked in concern. “You look… uncomfortable.”
His mouth twisted in dark amusement. “So would you if you’d been sleeping on bare rock for nights on end.”
“But…” she seemed embarrassed to speak, “don’t Woves usually sleep on the ground?”
He could not help but laugh at her childlike ignorance. “Yes, but not on the bare rock. We dark spirits do need a few comforts, you know.”
A flush crept up her cheeks as she glanced around the bare pit. After a few moments, she rose to her feet. He’d upset her, he felt a pang at the thought of her leaving already. But she only said, “I’ll be right back,” before scrambling out of the pit.