Ghile thought of fleeing. If the fallen were after him, they should follow. It would keep the others safe. He could sense Ast and Cuz. They were alive and fought on. He could call to them and… What? Where would he go? On to the Fallen City? Would he drag these creatures with him? What about the Alvar? What if they could help him, help Akira? No, no more running.
Ghile reached out with his mind and drew strength from the elk, quickness from the cat. They were large creatures and would not be hurt if he wasn't greedy. He knew not to draw too much.
He released the force shield slowing his descent and fell into the maelstrom. He timed his fall perfectly and pushed off a rising limb with one foot. Turning his body, he added the additional momentum to his fall and landed in front of two fallen who were quickly moving up to intercept him. He continued his forward movement upon landing and spun the fang blade across in front of him. With his enhanced strength, the blade sliced through both creatures as if they weren't there. Limp bodies flew away from Ghile, trailing inky gore.
He ran forward, rolling under thrashing limbs and side stepping bouncing stones. When he passed one of the pale skinned fallen he lashed out with the fang blade. He kept moving. If they wanted him they would have to catch him, which meant avoiding the forest's wrath. For every creature he cut down, two more fell beneath wood, stone, or claw. At some point Ast and Cuz appeared beside him, keeping pace and falling back to savage any creature he laid low. Soon it was over.
The forest once again fell silent. He stood in the middle of devastation. Still white forms lay scattered about the churned earth, some half buried, or floated slowly out into the river. Only the ground beneath Arenuin and the fae remained untouched.
The excitement of battle drained from Ghile and with it, the borrowed powers. He stumbled forward as exhaustion took him. He squinted under a sudden and piercing headache. He had never drawn on that much power from the soulstones. He couldn't even begin to remember how he had held the focus on so many different force shields and still manage to mindtouch the valehounds and other animals.
Arenuin, her face a mask of sorrow, took in the devastation. It was as if every broken limb, every misplaced stone cut her. The elk lay nearby, its fur a mesh of deep gouges and bites. It was not long for this world. Arenuin knelt beside it and began her song anew. This song was different than the one before. The elk stopped its mewling and lay still. The singing washed over Ghile and he could feel his headache fade under the gentle tune. The song drew him to the Alvar and by the time he reached Arenuin, the elk's wounds were gone and it was rolling up onto its legs.
Their curiosity seeming to get the better of them, the fae left the small circle of untouched ground. Gutroot and some other hobs prodded the lifeless form of a fallen, pixies hovered above, watching warily, bows drawn.
Ghile found Ast and Cuz, standing beside him. Cuz nudged against Ghile's waist and he reflexively scratched the valehound's head. The two appeared unharmed.
“How did you do that?” Ghile said
“This one knows Islmur's tongue. This one is a Spellsinger.” She spoke without looking at him, instead watching the elk walk back into the forest, its head held high.
“A Spellsinger?”
“This is not the place, Ghile Stonechosen. It would seem he knows you are here. Come,” Arenuin said.
Ghile started to speak, but she was already walking away, stepping gingerly over the ruined ground. Ghile hastened to catch up.
“This one thanks you for bringing the Stonechosen, little ones.”
“Wait, you said, he knows I'm here. Who knows I'm here?”
Arenuin continued to walk to the edge of the clearing, speaking with various fae as she went. Her stride lengthened as she neared the battlefield's edge and Ghile struggled to keep pace.
“Arenuin, please wait. Did whoever knows I'm here send these…dead ones, these fallen?”
Arenuin stopped beside one of the largest trees and turned. “Yes. They are abominations from the Fallen City, created by the Sorcerer who rules there.”
Ghile tried to take it all in, but his thoughts were a jumble. Akira and her brother, Ashar, were in the Fallen City. Akira had said there were things in the mists, she must have meant the fallen. If these things were what she feared, he had to get to her. But how did this sorcerer know he was here and what did he want with him. Ghile knew these fallen were after him, there was no doubt there, but why?
“Arenuin, I have friends in the Fallen City, I must reach them. Come with me, help me save them from this Sorcerer and then I'll come with you.”
“This one cannot. All are forbidden to enter the city. The Fallen City is a cursed place, Ghile Stonechosen. If your friends entered there, then this one grieves for your loss.”
How could Ghile explain to Arenuin that Akira was alive and visited him in his dreams? Again Ghile thought of just turning and continuing on his journey. He could feel the pull of the soulstones. If this sorcerer was after him, then wasn't he putting Arenuin and the fae at risk? It was the fear of bringing harm to Riff and the others that made him decide to leave them, Well, that and because he refused to harm Akira. No one was safe around him. At that moment he even wished he had left Ast and Cuz with his father.
“I don't know what to do,” Ghile said.
“Islmur will know.”
“What?”
“Islmur will know what to do,” Arenuin repeated.
All other thoughts flew away. “Islmur. The goddess?” Ghile said.
“Islmur told of your coming. It is Islmur who forbids entry into the Fallen City. Islmur will know what to do.”
“I'm going to meet a god?” Ghile said more to himself than to Arenuin.
Ghile was vaguely aware of Arenuin taking his hand and saying something about not letting go. Had he not just heard he was going to meet a god, he would have been shocked to see her step into the tree. But, his mind barely registered it. He turned to see Gutroot sitting easily on Cuz's back and waving when he felt his hand begin to tingle. They did not appear to be following. He turned to ask Arenuin why not, when he disappeared into the tree.
17
Without a Trace
Riff's leg was throbbing. Every step ached. Two Elks refused to slow their pace and only stared at Riff when he asked for rests. He itched in a dozen places. In hindsight he should have used the mud the villagers offered, but he just couldn't see rubbing the foul smelling stuff all over his skin, they all looked ridiculous. He could do without the itching, though.
He found himself staring at his feet again and quickly looked up into the trees. It was too easy to fall into the habit of looking at the ground just in front of his feet and focusing on his aches and pains. But after the second attack from the great cats that infested this damnable wood, he was not taking any more chances.
The creatures were so bold and difficult to spot before it was too late. They also seemed to favor picking off the last one in the group, which of course, always seemed to be him.
Mud covered Lotte, still grinning like an idiot, helped find the trail and was always up front close to Two Elks. Perfect Daughter Gaidel made it a point to stay right behind them. She didn't even bother to turn and glare when he called for rests. At least they had found a river and he no longer had to concern himself with an attack coming from his left. Of course, there was no telling what was in the river waiting to eat him. Riff moved a bit farther from the river's edge.
It was as if they were setting the pace to punish him. It was not his fault Ghile had decided to go it alone. Right now he couldn't blame the sheepherder. He would give up a warm bed and a hot meal to know what had happened between the oh so proud druid and her shieldwarden. They had exchanged some harsh words back in the village. Of course, she had no interest in quenching his curiosity when he asked what the barbarian did to earn her ire.
Riff caught his foot under another root and pulled his sore leg for the umpteenth time. By Daomur's beard he hated this place and it didn't look like they were
going to be leaving it anytime soon. Ghile seemed to be heading into the heart of the Deepwood, following the pull of the soulstone like a valehound with a scent up its nose and they followed like a band of idiotic hunters with no concern for where the hounds led them.
He leaned forward and grabbed some exposed roots, using them to pull himself up a steep incline. The sun, half way across the sky, broke through an open portion of the canopy to warm Riff's already sweaty neck. Perfect, he thought.
If it were up to him he would have left Ghile in these woods. How could he leave and not take Riff with him? He thought they were friends? Why didn't he just wake him? Riff would have been happy to leave Gaidel and her meat shield with the mud men.
But Ghile had abandoned Riff with the others. Riff kept expecting to catch up with the others and find them standing over the Sheepherder's body, laying there on the forest floor, dead eyes staring at nothing.
That won't happen, Riff thought quickly. Ghile couldn't die, could he? He would eventually wake up as good as new. The soulstones would see to that. Good, then Riff could kill him all over again.
He pulled his everflame from his pocket again and focused on the flame. He could feel the lack of power in his magic from being so far away from Ghile. It pained Riff to admit it, but he missed the power Ghile's presence brought him. How many times had he pulled his everflame out and once again feel the loss?
“Wait, Daughter Gaidel,” Riff called.
She was losing him again. They started their journey walking close together, but the more he questioned her about Two Elks, the tighter the set of her jaw, the louder the thump of her staff and the faster her stride.
This adventure was not turning out at all how Riff expected. When Master Almoriz told him he was to accompany Ghile, he had looked forward to it. The wizard had not deigned to leave the Cradle for a number of seasons and they spent most of their time in the outlying villages. It wouldn't have been so bad if Master Almoriz would have visited Lakeside more often, but with his dislike of his old apprentice, that fat oaf Hengon, Riff found the nights spent in a real bed in the town a rare luxury.
Of course it all made sense now. Master Almoriz knew the soulstone was going to appear and wanted to be there in the Cradle when it did. Riff even believed the wily old sorcerer intended for Riff to be the one who found it. How many nights did he lay awake at night on some uncomfortable pallet dreaming of journeying down the Underways from the Cradle to one of the other settlements.
But they hadn't taken the relatively safe Underways from the Cradle, they had left the Cradle through the Ghost Fens, where he was eaten by insects and almost eaten by worse. Only to survive and be walked to death in the bowels of the Deepwood and almost eaten again by its predators. How he hated cats. How he hated his traveling companions and most of all how he blamed Ghile, since it was all his fault.
Through the trees, he could see the others finally heard his calls and stopped. Hopefully this time it would be for a real rest and not that sorry excuse for a break they had last night. Even the forest floor felt like a freshly stuffed mattress when Two Elks called a halt for them to get some sleep. Riff felt like he had just closed his eyes when the barbarian was kicking him awake again, the forest black as it had been when they stopped.
Riff limped up next to the others where they stood in a line at the edge of a clearing. “About time you all listened to reason. My feet are killing-” his words choked off as he took in the clearing.
Pale bodies lay scattered across the churned up earth and the acrid smell of decay hung heavy in the air. Carrion birds eyed them and cawed, warning them not to think of disturbing their macabre meal.
“What by Daomur's hairy backside happened here?” Riff said.
The others stared in silence. Not even Lotte was talking and he definitely wasn't grinning. At least that was something, Riff thought absently.
“Are you sure the tracks lead here?” Gaidel said.
“Yes,” Two Elks said.
“I was speaking to Lotte, Shieldwarden,” she said, her voice cold and even.
Lotte glanced between the two of them and swallowed. Riff was sure he too had pictured a different type of adventure when he set out this morning; all grins, nods, and aiming to please.
“Sure enuf, to make no nevermind, Daughter Gaidel,” Lotte said. He spoke softly, without taking his eyes off the scene before them.
“This looks to be the work of a powerful druid,” Gaidel said.
“Powerful Sorcerer.”
“What did you say, Riff,” Gaidel said.
“This was the work of a sorcerer. Well, at least some of it is. I can feel…something. Someone channeled water and air here recently. That is no small task. Strange, though, no fire,” Riff said.
“Why is that strange?” Gaidel said.
“Of all the elements, it is the easiest to control. Stands to reason a sorcerer would channel it first.”
Two Elks moved forward cautiously, kneeling down beside the dead as Gaidel stood there, shaking her head.
“The ground, the stones. Even the nearby trees, look. The ground around their roots is disturbed. Whoever she was she was powerful indeed if the trees actually moved at her call,” Gaidel said.
Gaidel moved forward slowly, Riff close behind. She waved her staff to scatter the ravens and other carrion feeders before her. Lotte remained rooted to the spot.
“Daughter Gaidel, we should git,” Lotte called softly.
“In a moment, Lotte.”
“Ghile fought in battle,” Two Elks said. He motioned to one of the nearby bodies. “This one killed by stones.” He made quick thrusting motion towards his chest.
Riff blew out a low whistle. “You don't suppose he…”
“Daughter Gaidel, we shouldn't be here. Gone way too far fer our own good. We should git,” Lotte said. He was trying to look in all directions at once.
“In a moment, Lotte. Please-” She began.
“This here is the Elves!” Lotte said in a harsh whisper.
All eyes turned to regard him.
“The Elves did this?” Gaidel said.
“How many would it take to do all this,” Riff said, motioning at the clearing.
“Only take one, Daughter Gaidel. We need to git. The Elves got yur Ghile, fur cert'n,” Lotte said. He was backing away as he spoke.
Gaidel apparently forgot she was angry with Two Elks or just decided Lotte would be unable to focus in his current state.
“Two Elks, can you tell which way they went?”
The barbarian nodded and trotted off towards the far edge of the clearing.
Gaidel made her way to stand on a patch of ground in the center of the clearing untouched by the destruction. “I wonder what the significance of this area is?”
Riff stepped gingerly towards Gaidel. A pale white face of a human woman, her milky white eyes staring blankly, caught his attention. Half of the dead one's face was stained blue. He wondered if she had come from Lotte's village. The thought that he and Gaidel could have saved her from this came to him. Ghile should have known that. Some of the Dead Ones were vargan and he wouldn't have tried to cure them of their affliction even if Gaidel begged him. But the humans could have been spared this fate.
“Lotte, do you recognize any of them,” Riff called over his shoulder.
There was no response.
“Lotte! Did you hear me?” Riff turned back to see Lotte laying face down near the edge of the clearing.
“Lotte? Lotte! Gaidel, something is wrong with Lotte,” Riff said as he began half running, half stumbling over the difficult terrain back towards Lotte. His everflame was already in his hand.
Just then Riff heard familiar barking coming from the other side of the clearing. Ghile's valehounds? Riff spun thinking to see a tired and ragged Ghile staggering out of the woods. What he saw instead stopped him in his tracks.
The two valehounds were running across the clearing from the direction Two Elks had gone. A cloud of flying creatur
es followed, leaving a multihued cloud of rainbow colors in their wake. A small bearded brown potato rode on one of the valehounds back, waving a stick and croaking for all it was worth.
Gaidel called for Two Elks and then raised her staff as the valehounds and the trailing cloud reached her.
She had time to say, “Ast” and “Cuz”, before she dropped her staff to slap at her neck and face. She fell to her knees and then face forward.
The two Valehounds ran right past her and continued towards him.
Riff had no intention of waiting to say hello.
He turned and ran, or at least started to. As he turned back towards Lotte he saw another cloud surrounding the boy's prone body, more potatoes were jumping up and down on him, croaking.
Riff centered himself and focused on his everflame. He didn't look forward to explaining to Ghile why he had to roast his pets, but he didn't have any choice, besides, this whole mess rested on Ghile's shoulders. He recalled the ancient words that would summon forth the flames when he felt numerous stings, tiny bites in the back of his neck and exposed arms. Had the bugs from the fens finally caught up with him to finish him off?
This was too much for Riff. He was so tired of all this. Tired in general. Why was he holding his everflame in broad daylight? He sat down to consider it.
Wait, he was in danger, wasn't he?
It didn't make any sense.
The sun was so warm on his skin and the upturned dirt so comfortable. Maybe he would just take a nap.
He felt something warm and wet slide across his face. Oh, it was one of Ghile's valehounds. What was its name? He would have to ask his good friend Ghile. Where was Ghile, anyway? Riff wasn't sure, but it would all make sense after he got some sleep. Yes, some sleep would make everything better.
Riff drifted off into a deep sleep with the image of the two valehounds above him and waving from one of their backs, the ugliest bearded potato he had ever seen.
Time of the Stonechosen (The Soulstone Prophecy Book 2) Page 20