They’d come far in the two days since they left the last teleportation symbol. On the backs of the great wolves, the miles flew by. Amazingly, the giant kept up with a steady, loping gait. His huge strides ate up the miles like a hungry maw. The wolves were seemingly tireless. Hyden had ridden them before, when he, Vaegon, and Mikahl had to get to Xwarda to thwart Pael.
He’d been reminded of that trek earlier in the day when he and Huffa stopped on a ridge to watch Talon soar on the frigid breeze. Corva and the ever confident young Jicks had looked so much like Vaegon and Mikahl that Hyden shivered in his shagmar coat. He hoped this journey turned out better than the last. Grrrr and Vaegon hadn’t survived that one, and Mikahl had nearly died from the terrible bite of a Choska.
In Hyden’s lap, Huffa stirred. She raised her big head and licked his cheek, as if to ease his heavy thoughts. She was the pack leader now, and only when she took a mate would a male lead them again. Like Hyden, she was slow to forget the losses of the past, and her standards were quite high. She might never find a wolf that could fill Grrr’s fur.
Corva was admiring Vaegon's bow. Hyden had placed it in his hands before leaving Afdeon. “If I live through this, I want it back, my friend,” Hyden said. “But with it in my hands, my instincts are to use it. I have the powers of the goddess and Claret’s teardrop now. I hope to learn to turn to those when I’m in need.”
Corva took the bow, though he clearly didn’t grasp what Hyden was saying. The elf carried it reverently, so much so that Hyden had to chide him into stringing it that first day.
“It’s just a bow, Corva,” Hyden told him. “It’s only special because it was once Vaegon’s. Don’t be afraid to use it. It’s not a trophy, and I think Vaegon would be proud that an elf as persistent as you was carrying it. I have a great respect for how you tracked down your princess and followed your duty.”
Since then, Corva had been beaming.
The next day was blizzard-like. Powerful wind blasted snow and ice at them, but they forged on. The storm made the first part of the day miserable. By the afternoon the wind had lessened, but still the passage was rough. The continuous snowfall made the drifts deeper and the rocky ledges that much more treacherous. Having the smaller party, and the great wolves to ride, helped them tremendously. They were covering five times as much ground as they had been with the full group.
Something terrible greeted them at the cavern leading to the Shoovway. With only a long hour of daylight left to them, they found a band of trolls dwelling in the cave. They couldn’t see into the darkened area well enough to tell how many trolls there were. There was no other shelter about, and the nights were deathly cold. If they turned back, they would freeze to death before they got anywhere. They knew they had to fight for the shelter of the place. The aggressively defensive trolls were more than willing to put up a battle.
It started when a barrage of head-sized rocks came flying out at the companions. Luckily, the slope immediately behind them was gentle. Had it been a steep cliff edge, they would have been forced over it.
Hyden rode Huffa to the edge of the cavern mouth, while Durge and Jicks chose to dodge the rocks and charge in on foot. To Hyden’s great satisfaction, Corva slid gracefully from Oof’s back and covered the others’ entry with a quick flurry of arrows fired from Vaegon’s bow. A howling yelp confirmed that at least one of them had hit a troll.
Hyden wanted to cast a spell but he had to slow Jicks and the giant so that they didn’t get caught up in it. “Make way!” he yelled and pointed.
The two swordsmen darted toward the cavern wall just fast enough for Hyden to cast his spell.
With a shoulder-wide stance and open arms, Hyden swirled his hand around and a ball of flame appeared. The sphere swiftly churned and spun and grew to the size of a summer melon.
“Watch out, Hyden!” Jicks yelled.
Without losing his concentration, Hyden sidestepped a flying rock big enough to smash his bones. He made a mental note to thank Jicks for the warning and then threw his fireball right into the cavern mouth.
The trolls went wide-eyed and were shocked still when the bright fireball came flying at them. There were five of them. One was yanking on the arrow sprouting from its belly. Just before the wizard’s fire exploded into them, Hyden saw another arrow go streaking by. Corva hit his mark. The unsuspecting troll went mad as the arrow struck deeply into its throat.
The fireball flash-blinded most of the companions when it exploded. One of the trolls caught fire, and the one with the arrow in its stomach took severe damage, as well.
Outside the cavern, the great wolves howled and barked at the trolls that had survived. The wolves were smart enough not to charge in. They didn’t like not being able to fight, but they had no problem ripping out the throats of the fallen when they could.
Suddenly, a far larger piece of stone went past and shattered into the cavern wall right beside Durge. The giant roared out in pain and anger as he was showered with sharp fragments of stone. The biggest of the trolls roared right back at him.
The troll that had caught fire was sputtering on the floor. These trolls were huge, bigger than Durge by a few feet, and all sinewy muscle. In the dying light of the fireball, Hyden saw one of them charging at Jicks.
Hyden started to cast another fireball, but decided it would probably kill the young man, too. Instead, he cast his orb light into being. He didn’t let it come to rest in its natural position over his head. Instead, he sent it hovering further into the cavern so that the others could see the trolls. As it went by the lanky creature coming for the young swordsman, Hyden bounced it off the troll’s forehead.
Jicks took advantage of the beast’s blinded confusion and charged through its legs. He jabbed upward, deep into its groin, as he passed. He must have hit an artery, for he was rewarded with a steaming shower of crimson muck. The cavern stank of burned hair and scorched meat. The thrum of Vaegon’s bow came from behind Hyden through the din. The screaming troll Jicks had gelded made it an easy target for the elf.
Durge was bleeding from half a dozen places where chips of stone had pierced through his thick elkhide coat into his skin. His staff was broken into two pieces and the giant looked none too pleased about it. He raged into a pair of the trolls, one of which was about to throw another rock at him. He swung the bladed half of his weapon like it was a battle axe and caught the unarmed troll in the neck. As its head lolled to the side and a thick fountain of blood sprayed across the cavern, Durge planted his furred boot in the other troll’s gut and knocked it over backward. The huge rock it was holding over its head fell and smashed into its shins. Two seconds later, one of the wolves was pulling away with half of that troll’s face in its teeth.
Jicks swung at the back of the troll nearest him. His blade sliced clean through the calf meat, causing the troll to fall to a knee. The young swordsman was trying to back away when the troll turned and swung a roundhouse blow. Jicks was brutally batted across the floor by an anvil-like fist.
With all but one of the trolls down, the great wolves stormed into the cavern and joined the battle with tooth and claw. Their savage attack saved Jicks, for he was lying limp and unconscious from the massive blow he had taken.
Durge took a claw across the face as he stepped in and cut the legs out from under the last of the trolls. He yelled out a thunderous roar of victory, though, when it was done. The sound scared the great wolves and Corva as much as it did the dying trolls. Hyden didn’t hear it. He was lost in a casting, and the rest of the world could have been a thousand miles away.
A crackling ray of yellowish healing magic flared from Hyden’s hands and went swirling into Jicks’s body. Using such magic was taxing, and Hyden was washed over with relief when Jicks sat up and looked around.
After Durge and Corva had finished killing the trolls, they built a fire. Hyden attempted to heal Durge, but the giant refused. His face had three deep furrows running from his left ear across and under his eye to his nose and mouth. Th
e giant said he wanted the scars, wanted the pain to keep him sharp so that he didn’t forget. Once they were warm, the giant gutted the trolls and fed their livers to the great wolves. He took their huge hearts and spitted them on the butt end of the staff and set them to roast over the fire.
“I can’t believe you're going to eat those,” Jicks said incredulously. “Yuck!”
“I’ve never eaten troll heart before,” Hyden said. “But an old giantess named Berda used to tell my people tales when she was around. She said it was a delicacy.”
“It is!” Durge boomed through his grizzly appearance. Even with his face gashed and bloody, his grin was wide and white. “It’s only proper to eat from your kill, anyway, but troll heart is something spectacular. Only the tongue meat from a bark lizard has a better flavor.”
“Mikahl’s told me how good that is,” said Hyden.
“I’ll try it,” Corva said. “The Elders say that troll heart is good for the spirit.”
“Are you going to eat it?” Jicks asked Hyden. “Those trolls are so unclean.”
“Aye, I will,” Hyden laughed. He directed Jicks’s attention back to Corva.
“If you think on it, Jicks,” Corva said, “the troll eats better than any other creature alive. It hunts the mountains for elk, moose, and bear. It drinks from the purest of melt streams. It’s only filthy on the outside. A pig, now there’s a beast that should seem to have filthy meat, yet doesn’t roasted pig beat anything you’ve ever eaten?”
“It does when it’s drenched in honey,” Jicks nodded and glanced at the sizzling hearts spitted on the fire. “So what does it do to your spirit?”
Before Corva could answer, Talon came sweeping down out of the darkened sky into the cavern mouth. The hawkling fluttered to a stop and landed on Hyden’s outstretched arm. After sidestepping his way up Hyden’s shoulder, he settled and began preening himself. His beak was bloody from a freshly killed meal.
Corva continued. “A spirit is something that every living thing has about it. Some predators, some men, as well…” Corva nodded toward Hyden. “…some can see it around you. It’s like a glow that indicates the nature of who it belongs to.”
“Can you see mine?” Jicks asked, looking at himself uncomfortably.
“I can sense it more than see it,” said Corva. “It’s an ability that will sharpen as I age. Most elves can’t see the spirit aura until they are well over a hundred years old.
“How old are you?” Jicks asked.
“I’m seventy-seven,” Corva replied, as if he were ashamed of being so young.
“Very young for the responsibilities of a royal guard,” Durge observed. The giant brought the shish kebab of troll hearts to his face and pinched one. He seemed pleased, and inhaled their aroma deeply. The dark, scabbing lines across his face gave him a menacing look.
“It was my grandfather’s place on the Hardwood council that got me a place on the expedition to Salaya,” Corva explained. “Even had I not some skill with the blade and bow, I would have been allowed to go. My grandfather shamelessly used his position in my favor.” Corva let his gaze fall to the fire with shame. “Several better elves, more qualified and more deserving, were passed over in the matter.”
“You’ve proved your rightful place and position, Corva,” Hyden said. “As I said before, very few would have gone as far as you have in the name of duty. Most would have run straight to the Queen Mother.”
Corva nodded his thanks for the encouragement.
“They’re done!” Durge announced. The meat was chewy, yet savory, not tough and ever so succulent.
Jicks didn’t shut up about how good the hearts tasted. The others were thankful when sleep finally silenced him. With the great wolves standing guard, everyone else slept, as well.
In the morning, they entered the tunnel-like Shoovway. Hyden was anxious and excited about what the Wedjak had in store for them. Its wonders and dangers were now but a few dozen paces away.
Chapter 46
In a small, snow-covered clearing somewhere in the Evermore Forest, the senior members of the coalition of Hardwoods were gathered. Revan, Lord of the Redwoods, presided over the group of old elves. Some heads of other families outside the coalition were in attendance, as well. What they were about to attempt required more power and ability than the coalition could manage on its own. The Cherrywoods, the Teaks, and one rebellious old Birchblood stood in a spell circle with the others. From the center, Lord Revan spoke.
“The time of the Queen Mother has passed. It is known that a daughter’s heart will follow her mother’s closely. Are we ready? Are we going to stand by and suffer four hundred more years of reclusive mediocrity?”
A murmur ran through the circle. “No.”
“We once hunted this land from the southern sea to the giants’ borders. All of that land was once pure and untainted by the stench of men. The time has come for us to call from the earth a new leader, someone who will guide our race back to its former glory. We need someone who will not bow down and hide from the likes of man.”
“Who?” the old Birchblood asked.
“Yes, who?” someone else said.
“The unborn daughter of Milea Redwood. Her father is of the purest Redwood stock, and Milea is the epitome of the Cherrywood lineage. The child will be strong and proud.”
Revan reached out a hand to a slip of an elven girl wrapped in a shimmering cloak. Her belly was well rounded with child. Her luminous golden eyes were a bright contrast to her pale, almost blue-colored skin. There was no doubt that she was one of the purest of elves. “If we call forth the Arbor Heart into this child, then once she is born, we will suffer the fearful leadership of the Queen Mother no longer. We will…”
“All of you are fools!” Dieter Willowbrow yelled down from the trees. He had been out rounding up winter spore for his father’s herbal works and accidentally overheard the meeting. He’d intended to hide in the trees and remain silent until they were done. Now he regretted speaking, for he might not make it to warn the Queen Mother. “It’s you that are afraid of the humans, you who are even now guilty of blasphemy against the Heart of Arbor. You shame yourselves. You shame me with this… this…” He was so angry and scared that, instead of finishing, he leapt through the trees like a startled squirrel. Only a light cascade of loosened snow marked where he had been. Dieter knew that he had to get away from them. If he was caught they would have to kill him. It was never spoken openly, but all elves knew what happened if you crossed the Hardwood coalition. Luckily, Dieter was young and fleet of foot. None of the older elves, he hoped, could catch him.
Lord Revan harrumphed, regaining everyone’s attention. “Our course is set! We must act before he can ruin our plans.”
“What if he is right?” one of the wizards of Teak said. “You are awfully determined to connect your own son’s child to the Arbor Heart. Is it the good of our race you are truly after, or is it family glory?”
“I will not argue with you, Varial,” Revan said. “Stay or go, but do not get in our way.” He turned slowly around, looking into the eyes of the others. “The time is at hand. We can afford to wait no longer.”
Most of the elves were nodding in agreement. They had begun clasping hands, forming a powerful spell circle. Revan left Milea shivering in the middle of the ring and took his place.
Varial Teak and one of Revan’s own cousins eased away from the gathering. Before they were out of earshot, Varial turned and said, “I fear you are misinterpreting the invocation, Lord Revan. The Heart of Arbor won’t quicken in the unborn child. The spell is meant to be cast on a woman not yet conceived. You are risking your grandchild for naught.”
“Go away, Varial. You and Matern are traitors to your own blood,” Revan growled. “Leave us.”
The two unsure elves turned and moved quickly away.
The sun was starting to set and the forest was growing colder. The members of the spell circle began to chant, following Revan’s lead. Slowly, the rhythmic r
epetition of words turned into an eerily powerful melody.
Milea stood inside the circle. She was clearly terrified. The air around her began to charge with static, and the hot, clean smell of ozone assailed them all. The ground under her feet shimmered in a mosaic of pastel reds and blues. Then, slowly, it gathered into a steady emerald glow. The snow inside the circle melted away. Suddenly, Milea’s chest lurched and her arms went wide. She lay back slightly, but didn’t fall. Her robe and hair flowed strangely up and away from her, as if the wind were blasting her from below. All of the elves, and even the earth around them, began to pulse lightly with the beat of the Arbor Heart.
Milea’s expression was ecstatic, as if she were feeling great pleasure. Slowly, she pulled her arms in and hugged herself. Her eyes shot open but her expression went blank. The pulse was hammering into her, and some of the elves realized, as she had, that what they’d just summoned wasn’t what they had intended.
The clean, ozonic smell grew hot and sulfurous, and as the emerald glow darkened to crimson, the smell of the air turned to brimstone.
Milea heaved, clutching at her swollen belly. For a moment it looked as if she would collapse. Then she stood and strode quickly away, shouldering herself out of the circle. When she separated the hands of the elves she passed between, the spell was broken. The ground inside the circumference was smoldering and rank. The elves were gasping in dismay, all of them pale and sickened.
“What have we done?” one of them asked.
“Lord Revan,” another started, with terrified amber eyes. “This is not the will of the Arbor Heart.”
“The Willowbrow boy was right,” another one added, backing away from them. “This is blasphemy.”
Lord Revan stood trembling from both rage and fear alike. It had not been the Heart of Arbor they had summoned, and that angered him. For thousands of years his family had served the forest. They were owed a reward for that service. What terrified him, though, was that he felt something happen inside the girl, something unwholesome. The Arbor Heart, in his mind, had betrayed him.
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