Clotho drooled and a pool of black acid-like saliva ate holes into the stone floor. Even as her rage began to subside, one question rolled through her mind. Where did her enemies get the influx of such power?
Lalith had ensured her that the Chosen One had been destroyed but the Nine were still unaccounted. Even though the omen should have been broken with the death of the child of prophecy, this had to be a precursor of things to come and that did not please the eight-legged one.
“Lalith,” croaked Clotho. The demoness’ power was such that no matter where the dark elf was or whatever she was doing, the sorceress appeared before her.
Lalith was startled to be called by her goddess. Even though she had pledged herself to the cause of the demoness, she had only been in her presence a handful of times and never summoned like this. One moment she was in her study looking over battle maps and the next she was standing in front of the demoness.
Dropping to one knee, she quickly lowered her head. “You called my goddess.”
“Our enemies have found a new fount of power. What have you overlooked?”
Beads of sweat immediately formed on Lalith’s brow. She had no idea what the Spinner was talking about but that did not matter. The demoness was displeased and that did not bode well for her. Lalith’s mind raced as she quickly contemplated different strategies to displace the spider-goddess’ anger. Since she needed more information and she needed to buy herself some more time, she asked. “I’m not sure what you mean. Everything is going according to the plan.”
“Your plan is flawed. Don’t think I have forgotten what your creator did to me all those years ago. You have yet to demonstrate to me that you are any different from her.”
Lalith was not exactly sure of what event the Spinner was referring to but realized it wouldn’t be good to show her ignorance. “My goddess, I have always done your bidding and will continue to do so, now and until my death. You have but to command me and I will obey.”
Clotho shifted her great bulk and turned her head until only one of her multifaceted eyes was directly in front of the dark elf. “I know you Lalith. I know your greatest fear.”
The spider-like demoness croaked a word of command in some unknown language and the dark elf’s skin was suddenly ablaze with pain. Lalith could see her reflection in the demoness’ eyes echoed back at her a hundred-fold. Even as she watched, her beauty faded as wrinkles and scars took its place.
“Never fail me Lalith. Death will be the least of your worries. I have other punishments in mind for you when you fail, this is but one of them.”
Lalith could not speak as the pain once more wracked her body and she fell to her knees. Wiping away the blood on her lips, she looked up into the eyes of the Spinner and noticed that she was back to normal. It was but a demonstration of power and one that Lalith took to heart.
“I will not fail you, my goddess. The plan will work. It will just take time.”
That remark gave pause to the demoness. Time. How does one measure time when you are immortal? Even though the elves were a long-lived race compared to the rest of the mortals of Terreth, they knew that one day they would die. This was an odd concept for the demoness but then, so was time.
“So be it. You will have the time you need to implement your plan. I will wait and watch but don’t think I have forgotten. I haven’t.”
Before Lalith could say anything further, the spider demoness dismissed her and the dark elf found herself hurtling through the nothingness of the void, only to land heavily in her spell chambers. Lalith pushed herself up and looked down at her skin. It was back to the ebony perfection that she was used to but the memory of the wrinkles and scars haunted her. She would not fail, she couldn’t. Not now. Her course was set and if she wanted to avoid the future Clotho had shown her, she needed to overcome her enemies.
Chapter 18
On the highest ramparts of Asylum, three friends looked down at the on rushing bodies of an untold number of orcs and goblins as they hurled themselves again and again at the walls of the city. They charged en mass and died by the hundreds, if not thousands. It just seemed so futile to the young girl from a small hamlet to the north but then, she was just one refugee out of thousands that had sought shelter behind the solid walls of the ancient city.
Aleena turned to the surly dwarf at her side and asked, “Why? Why do they do that? Don’t they know it’s hopeless?”
Rjurik shook his head. “Nay lass, no one has ever accused a goblin of being smart. They will continue to crash against the walls like waves on the rocks.”
“A will of great malevolence drives them,” added Anasazi. “They will attack as long as Clotho desires it, plain and simple.”
Rjurik ran his one good hand through his beard. “What can we do to help?”
Anasazi turned away and placed his hands on the shoulder of his friend. “We survive. It just so happens, I have a meeting this afternoon concerning the purchase of another inn. I have found those years spent at the Inn of Quiet Repose to be some of my most enjoyable years. I would like to see if we can recapture a bit of that while we wait.”
Aleena cocked her head to the side and began to brush her long blonde hair behind her ear before she remembered the scar on the left side of her face and left it alone. “Wait? For what?”
Anasazi began heading down the ramparts and back into the city. “One day in the future, Graytael will return and need our aid.”
“How can you know that? You said it yourself that he’s a slave now.”
“Ah…but there comes a time in every slave’s life when he or she has the chance to throw off the yoke which binds him. Sometime in the future Gray will face that choice and make the right decision. He must. The future of Terreth depends on his survival.”
Aleena had no idea what the old man was talking about but then, he always did seem a little off. Her mother had once complained about how odd the ancient innkeeper was but since he was always polite to them and the rest of the villagers, everyone had just accepted it. Now Aleena found herself a refugee in a strange city that was under siege by the forces of darkness and he was one of only two people she knew in Asylum. If he wanted to believe that Gray was some sort legendary savior, who was she to argue?
Without another word, the blonde scarred beauty and the one-handed old dwarf followed the ancient shaman through the war-torn streets of Asylum.
* * * * *
Khlekluëllin and Halhulingrath made one more pass along the eastern borders of the Elfholm but there were no signs of the Dark Alliance.
Khlekluëllin shook his head. That was not actually true. From the sections of the forest that still burned to the numerous trees they had hacked down for no apparent reason, there were plenty of signs that the Dark Alliance had invaded the elven homeland. There just were not signs of any living invaders but they had done irreparable damage to the Elves before they had retreated. The elves had been caught off guard. Not once in the entire history of the Elfholm had the city of the elves ever been invaded. Many had thought it impossible. And that belief had led to many weaknesses that the Dark Alliance had been able to exploit. Of course, knowing that his brother had been helping them hurt deeply but still not as much as what Mortharona had done to their mother, that was reprehensible.
* Your mother is awake* came Halhulingrath’s voice over their mental link.
“I didn’t know you were connected to her.”
* I’m not. Dryope contacted me. Her magic connects her with every tree in the forest and so she can reach me at will even out here.*
“Good enough for me. Let’s head back. There is nothing new to see.”
The blue dragon immediately banked left and folded in his wings to drop altitude quickly. Khlekluëllin enjoyed the freedom of dragonflight and for a brief moment, the worries of his life were blown away with the wind. All too soon, they were coming in for a landing on the uppermost balcony of the palace. For nearly a decade, the elves of Elfholm had shied away from the young blu
e dragon but not now. Ever since Hal had come to their Queen’s rescue, he had become like a favorite neighborhood cat that everyone looked after.
Even before Hal came to a complete stop, Iauron stepped forward and bowed his head at the neck. “Welcome back your Royal Highness, your mother is asking for you.”
Khlekluëllin shook his head. “Iauron, I am still just the Warden Commander, nothing more, nothing less.”
“No sire, I beg to disagree.”
The blue haired royal prince cocked his head to the side. Iauron was trying to tell him something without saying it aloud.
* I could spell it out for you if you like.*
“No, it can’t be that,” thought Khlekluëllin.
The elven prince just smiled at his former subordinate and moved into the ruins of the Royal Suite. The hole that Halhulingrath had ripped into the side of the tree was already on the mend. Since the Malloran tree was still alive, given enough time the tree would repair itself and there would only be a scar in the wood to mark its damage. He moved past the new palace guards and noted with pride that they were all members of his Wardens that had taken on the new responsibility.
As Khlekluëllin came around the corner into the Royal Suites, the royal physician confronted him. Calendor was old, even for an elf. He always wore white robes, walked with a pronounced limb and had the worst bedside manner in the kingdom but an unmatched skill with healing magic. “It is about time you showed up.”
“I came as soon as I discovered that she was awake.”
Calendor looked away as if he was bored. “A dutiful son would’ve been at her bedside the whole time.”
Khlekluëllin took a deep breath to help keep his temper in check. “I recall you chasing me out of the room just a few days back.”
Calendor waved the accusation off as trivial. “Yes, yes…I remember. I just didn’t expect you to listen to me. You never have in the past.”
“True but then the stakes were never this high.” Khlekluëllin nodded toward his mother. “How is she?”
“She’ll live. The rest, I will leave for her to explain.” Calendor gave him an ever so slight bow of his head and limped out of the room.
Khlekluëllin moved to the side of the bed, knelt down and waited. After a few minutes, Queen Rhiánön’s eyes fluttered open. “Any sign of your brother?”
“No ma’am. Somehow he used a translocation spell that whisked him away to safety. It should’ve been blocked by the magic of the Malloran trees. I’m not sure how he did it or where he went. Nor do I know why the Dark Alliance pulled back when they were at our doors before our army was able to respond.”
The queen’s voice was soft and weak when she spoke. “There is a reason. You are just not seeing it. And worse than that, the harder you seek it the less you will find it.”
Khlekluëllin reached out and grabbed his mother’s hand. He felt the tears begin to flow and he knew he should rein them in but he had been suppressing his grief and anger for far too long.
“Mother, I have failed you. I was unable to save Tatianna all those years ago and now I didn’t even notice the darkness growing in my own twin. I’m a failure.”
The queen shifted in her bed and rolled onto one side. With her other hand, she reached out and caressed her son’s cheek. “Your siblings’ fate was their own. It was not your responsibility to protect them.” She paused to take a deep breath. “But it is now your duty to protect our people.”
That caught Khlekluëllin’s attention. “What do you mean?”
“You will be acting as Regent for the foreseeable future since I’m stepping down.”
Khlekluëllin felt his whole world crumble around him. His worst fear was coming to life. He was, in effect, to be king. “But….but mother, why?”
Then she spoke the words he dreaded even more than becoming the king.
“Son, I’m pregnant.”
Chapter 19
Gray, Jardan and Tamina became the glue that held the children together over the next year. Yes, there were losses; it was inevitable but of the two-hundred and fifty kids that arrived in the fortress, one-hundred and twenty-nine survived to see the master slaver’s return.
At dusk on the fateful day, the overseers gathered everyone in the fortress courtyard. Every one of the kids had grown in size and girth, a testament to the hard work and nutritious food. The sound of someone clapping broke the silence and everyone turned to see the grey-skinned half-orc as he stepped out of a doorway that the kids were certain was not there a moment before.
“Well done! You have succeeded beyond my wildest imagination. I will admit I did not expect to see this many standing here today and my how you have grown.” Kralm began to move through the kids, placing a reassuring hand on shoulders or a simple pat on the back. “But today you enter the next phase of your training.”
Silently, a black cowled and hooded figure shuffled through the gathering. Their first impression was that of an old, old woman with greasy grey hair hidden underneath a dark cowl. She seemed to wheeze with every step and used a cane made of bones to help her move. In one arm, she carried a fanged skull of some unknown beast. Just as she came abreast to Gray, she stumbled. Her cane went one way and she the other.
Gray reacted out of instinct and moved in to catch her before she fell completely. As he snatched her up, he was aware of three things; how extremely light she was, that she still had the fanged skull clutched tightly in her arms and that her bone cane skipped across the hard-packed dirt.
“There you go ma’am, you should be more careful.” Even as he helped her stand on her own, Gray felt her left hand brush his forehead as she whispered something that was both familiar and unknown. It was an odd feeling. Even as quickly as he felt it, it was gone.
“My thanks young man, I’m not as spry as I was in the old days.” She seemed to look around but did not see her cane not three feet away. “Now, where in the name of Nox is my cane.”
Jardan rushed forward, picked it up and handed it to her. “Here you go.”
“Thank you young man…you are very sweet.”
“Kâlikâ…I’m waiting,” said Kralm.
The old woman hissed in the direction of the half-orc but seemed to move a bit faster. She took a few more steps, sat down in the middle of the courtyard and began drawing in the dirt.
Kralm ignored her and clapped his hands twice. Four figures stepped out of the shadows; two dark elves, a bald heavily tattooed gnome and a dark haired elf. The grey-skinned half-orc gestured to them.
“These will be your Döcent. Your days in the Lüdüs will be spent training in a myriad of skills. Although you will learn from each Döcent, they in turn will aid and guide you in your training. But from this day forward you each belong to a Cöterie; Raven, Wolf, Cobra and Panther. Once selected, your Cöterie will be your family. They will share in your triumphs and suffer in your failures.”
Kralm clapped once and the beautiful dark elf female stepped forward. “This is Chikk Forlorn. Most recently she was the captain of the Ebony Eagle, a pirate ship of great renown, but her skills and reputation as a master thief are well known in the Subterreth.”
Chikk was wearing red leather pants, a white silk blouse with puffy sleeves and a black leather corset that greatly accented her curvy figure and displayed her ample cleavage. Her snow-white hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she rested her well-manicured hands on the hilts of her weapons. She was wearing a medallion with the raven emblem. Chikk curtsied slightly and stepped to one side.
The other dark elf stepped forward as Kralm continued speaking. “For those that make their homes in the Subterreth this next individual needs no introduction but since you are all surface dwellers, this is Darnac Penumbra. He’s the Blademaster of Avaris and probably the deadliest man alive with a blade, any blade.”
Gray noticed a couple things about the dark elf. First, the blademaster had at least eight different blades visible across his body. Secondly, judging from the looks the two dark e
lves were giving each other they had a history together. However, from the venomous looks the gnome was shooting him, there was no love lost between them. How this would influence his future, he was not sure but it was something he filed away for later reference.
Kralm continued his introductions. “Espen is a master assassin and an expert pharmakeia. You will learn a lot from him if you pay attention and live long enough to survive his lessons.”
The gnome seemed to slither forward instead of walking. He was short, probably less than three feet tall and had dozens of black tattoos covering his bald head and bare chest but the rearing head of a hooded cobra was prominently tattooed in the very center of his chest. The only clothing he wore was black leather pants and boots while numerous knives were visible hanging from his belt.
Finally the dark-haired light elf stepped forward. Kralm gave him a surly look but continued.
“And lastly, this is Mortharona Amarth. He is new to our legati but I can assure you that he is a master at espionage having recently completed a very important mission for the Dark Lady deep inside the Elfholm.”
Kralm turned back to the old hag. “Kâlikâ, you’re up.”
The dark cowled old lady chanted in an unknown language and the fanged skull began to glow with a black light. After a moment, she pointed at Graytael. “You...Isengrim, come!”
Gray hesitated for a second but when he realized that everyone was watching he stepped forward.
Kâlikâ thrust the skull forward. “Place your right hand inside the mouth.”
Gray did as he was directed.
“You will feel a slight burning sensation in your palm but whatever you do, do not remove your hand until I tell you so.”
Darkness Falls (Tales of the Wolf) Page 16