by Nunn, PL
There was a rectangular column of stones, some standing alone, others supporting thinner wafers of rock. Vines crawled up the thick supports in abundance and made a natural roof where the stone was absent. Aloe stood under those, her hair in a slender braid down her back, her belt laden with knife and short sword. There was a weariness to her face that Victoria found unnatural for her fey friend. It spoke volumes about what this siege was doing to Liosalfar morale. But the girl met her with open arms and a brief embrace, as if they had not seen each other in years instead of hours.
“My friend,” Aloe whispered, eyes shining silver in the wan light of night.
“What troubles you?”
“What makes you think I’m troubled?” Victoria countered, wondering how transparent her own emotions were.
Aloe smiled sadly. “Who is not? But you seem unusually distraught and your calling was fraught with unease.”
“Oh.” She tried to return the smile as she leaned against a column. It was cold and wet, chilling her through her clothing.
“What did you decide in council?”
The sidhe sniffed. “Some want to try to slip out unnoticed, some want to fight.
Others recommend staying here, making do and hoping that the storms will eventually dry up before the valley is filled to the top with water.”
“What do you want to do?”
“Take the fight to them. Take it to that bastard himself. It might be a losing battle, but it’s better than drowning. But it matters little what I want. Ashara was not even among us at council and no decision can be made without her.”
“Is she well?”
“Who is to say?” She shrugged.
“Okar informs us she is not hurt, yet refuses to let anyone see her. He’s stubborn when he so chooses.”
“Azeral can be – difficult to deal with,” Victoria murmured.
“Yes,” Aloe agreed.
“Whatever happens,” Victoria said slowly, thoughtfully. “I think will happen soon. The future is so very uncertain. If something should happen to me, Aloe might I ask you to do me a favor?”
The girl’s eyes glowed, twin silver moons. She stared at Victoria for a long moment, weighing her request, then finally inclined her head. “If it is within my power.”
“Oh, it’s not that hard. Just watch out for Phoebe for me. She’s a glutton for affection now. I’ve totally spoiled her and she’ll make a poor proper gulun because of it.” She hesitated, biting her lip and took a breath for the difficult part. “And, please, please make sure Dusk is okay.
He’s got a soul now, and he’s not very good at dealing with it.”
Aloe gaped at her, then laughed in amazement. “Me watch out for him? You forget what he is.”
“Aloe, promise me you’ll try. He’s not done a particularly good job of protecting his own interests lately and I need to know at least someone is on his side.”
“He is an assassin,” the girl spat.
“Not by choice,” Victoria cried, pleading with her eyes. Aloe stared back, her own gaze sheltered by lowered lashes.
Her face turned thoughtful, and eventually she nodded.
“No, not by choice. That I will grant you. All right, Victoria, I will do what I can for your Ciagenii and your gulun. But pray divulge to me why you have the sudden notion that you will not be present to see after your own? Are you taken to premonitions now? Is foresight among your many powers?”
“No.” She shook her head slowly, hating the lie. Hating the deceit to one who had risked so much for her. Aloe was truly her best friend in this world, or any other for that matter. No one had ever risked what she had for her. Impulsively she threw her arms around the girl’s shoulders and hugged the slim form to her. “If I had a sister,” she whispered, “she could not be dearer to me than you. I can never repay you.”
Embarrassed, Aloe stepped back. A slight flush rose to her cheeks. “I expect no repayment.”
“No, you wouldn’t. I want you to know that my time at Ashara’s keep was some of the best in my life. Nothing in my world can compare to what I have here. I cannot condemn Azeral totally for bringing me here.”
“I can condemn him,” Aloe said flatly. “I can wish his entrails on my sword.” She smiled grimly at the thought.
“I’m tired of his game, Victoria.”
“Me too. It’ll be over soon.”
Aloe looked to her quizzically and she quickly changed the subject. “This is not the driest of places. We’ll both catch our deaths of cold.” She touched the girl’s arm and smiled one last time before running back out into the rain.
~~~
She came to him as the moon, behind its gray shield of clouds, began to sink towards the horizon. He had doubted that she would. He was not certain how to feel about the fact that she had. He had no idea where he stood with her. What to expect of her or how to conduct himself any longer. He only knew that he had to try.
He had to make an effort at winning back what was as important to him as life itself.
He had two of the horses he had come in upon, provisioned and outfitted for a long journey. He had stolen from the Seelies to fill his saddlebags, but felt little remorse for the thievery considering the risk he was about to take in their behalf.
He stood with the animals just beyond the outer most of the ruins, enough of a shield to divert attention from himself should anyone be wandering the night. He felt no warning when she did appear, her shields being thicker and by far more impenetrable than his. She stared at him, stone-faced and drenched, a leather cap pulled over her head, keeping her wet hair back from her face. She had a knife at her belt and he thought another in her boot.
She looked the proper sidhe warrior, and too much as if she belonged here.
He shivered at the thought. At the animosity mixed with determination in her eyes. He preyed he was not making a mistake in taking her away in this manner.
Prayed that he would not be the cause of her death, or worse yet, her capture by Azeral.
“Are you ready?” he asked needlessly, for lack of anything else to say to her. She nodded, going to one of the horses and mounting on her own before he could move around to help her. Her eyes bored down at him as he stood helplessly by her stirrup. Swallowing he mounted his own animal and slowly urged it towards the eastward slope.
What their shields did not cover, the darkness did. They reached the line of trees without incident and once in that shelter of foliage he breathed easier. He concentrated for moment on the trail he wished to follow, searched for the particular essence that would lead his way and finally found it a good distance east.
The spriggan was entirely unaware that he was leading Alex on yet another journey.
The little man would be livid if he knew.
Keeping a loose hold on Bashru’s path, he lead Victoria up the valley. He was caught entirely by surprise when a slim form stepped out of the trees and into their path. His eyes widened and he thought the eyes of the sidhe who had come upon them were just as shocked. The hunter’s hand went to his knife after only a moment’s hesitation though and he demanded in a hiss.
“What business are you about?”
Alex thought hard. He chanced a glance back to Victoria, but her face was expressionless. He took a breath and chanced a half smile.
“Oh, let me show you,” he dismounted, and reached for his saddle bag. “I’m surprised no one told you,” he remarked as the sidhe guard took a step closer to see what he was about. He withdrew a bundle of wrapped bread and held it out for the other’s inspection. When the fey hunter’s attention shifted down, Alex slammed his other fist in a good roundhouse right into the lean jaw. The hunter’s head snapped around and his body spun, settling unceremoniously to the leaf covered ground. Alex shook his throbbing hand, rather pleased with the results.
“Alex,” Victoria gasped. “You hit him.”
He twisted his head around to peer at her in surprise. “That I did.”
She leaned over her
saddle bow. “Is he all right?”
Sighing he bent down to check and informed her that the sidhe was indeed breathing normally.
“They are not going to be happy with this,” she foreordained with a frown.
“They will get over it.” He mounted up. “Especially when the hunt leaves them alone. Come on.”
He thickened his shield and urged his horse to a faster pace. Soon they passed the boundary of the runestones. Victoria took up the shielding then and he kept a mental eye out for ogre’s and goblins.
They veered away from one group and had to stop as another large party crossed their path. Between the two of them, their shield was strong enough to escape notice no more than twenty feet away from the closest shambling ogre. Once past that group he picked up Bashru’s trail again.
They crested the forested hill and progressed down another. The valley there was shallower and marsh-like. Their horses trudged though knee high water, stumbling in unseen ruts. It was a relief to start back up the water-slick hill.
By morning’s first light the landscape began to flatten out and the forest grew denser. Sometimes there was no more than a hand’s breadth of space between their legs and the trees around them. Often they had to pull their limbs up to avoid having them scraped raw by trees that were far to close. If the wood grew more dense travel on horseback would be impossible, but at any rate the thickness of the wood would hamper pursuit, especially of the broad bodied ogre sort.
They stopped to break their fast and catch a few moments’ rest. He was quicker dismounting than her and determined to lend her his hand in dismounting. She allowed it. While he rummaged about for something to eat she stretched her legs, walking about in a small circle. The trees limited vision to no more than a twenty foot radius. It was unnerving not being able to see what might be coming at them, but at the same time it provided good cover.
He handed her a piece of bread and a handful of dried fruit. They each had their own water skins.
“I think we’ve done it,” he finally said, to break the uncomfortable silence.
“We’re past them.”
“Don’t say that,” she snapped at him.
“You’ll jinx us.”
He smiled at her superstition. “Okay, we’re not past them. The woods probably crawling with them.”
She sniffed at him and nibbled at a piece of fruit. “How long before we let him know we’re away from the valley?”
That was a question that sent shivers down the length of him. Informing Azeral that his prey was no longer where he thought it was. How far was safe, when he set the hunt on their trails?
“Another day,” he supplied. “To give ourselves a good head start.”
She nodded, accepting that. For a long while she did nothing more than work on her fruit. He had finished his own in a few gulps and worked with the horses, allotting them a handful of grain a piece.
Being nighthorses, they snapped at his fingers and glowered at him with their dull red eyes. He slapped at a reaching muzzle and proceeded to rake his fingers through a tangled black mane to avoid looking at Victoria.
She caught him off guard with her whispered admittance. “I’m sorry it turned out this way, Alex.”
He stood with his back to her afraid to turn around. Afraid to see the dismissal in her eyes. “Are you? I thought I sensed a distinct contentment back there.”
“I’m sorry this world pulled us apart. But I’m not terrible sad that we found it – or it found us. I like this person I am now.”
He was not certain he did. He closed his eyes and mourned that uncertainty.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered behind him and he realized his shields were full down. He brought them back up with a snap and turned about to glare at her accusingly.
“What does it matter, Vicky? You’ve got a new life and I’m not a part of it.”
“Oh, Alex, don’t say that. You are a part of my life. You’ll always be. It just can’t be like it was before. I can’t live like that and I seriously doubt you can either.”
“No,” he agreed. “It can’t be the same.” And he shut her out after that, unable to deal with the topic, refusing to comment more. She grew silent after a few attempts at talk and merely sat there staring at him with thoughtful green eyes.
~~~
Azeral lay on the silken pillows of his field cot alone. It was large enough for four, doused in thick, soft cushions and covered with sheet of softest silk.
Dangling curtains hung above it, caught up at the apex of the tent, dividing his sleeping section from the rest of his ornate tent. The Dark Lord traveled in style. He never begrudged himself luxuries and yet he lay alone. Cold, with no arms to wrap about him but his own.
He half listened to the mental whispers fluttering around his encampment. Some were shielded and only the essence of the feelings involved reached him. Unease, disapproval.
Uncertainty in him. This last enraged him.
He lay and seethed. Their very thoughts verged on betrayal. They gave themselves the right to condemn him, even if only silently, in private. Those sniveling sidhe, none with even a remnant of power to match his own. Would they dare to chastise him to his face? He thought not.
He thought they would bow and scrape as usual, save for the few powerful ones, like Tyra who held judgment in their eyes but let it go no further.
The other half of listened to the rain and hated it. Hated the consistent patter of it on the canvas of his tent. He cursed the Seelies for stubborn fools, making his grand scheme of drowning them out of their haven as much a inconvenience to him as to themselves. He let his mind fly free, abandoning his body and the camp it rested within. He flew high over the treetops, looking down over the expanse of forest. He saw the various camps made by his ogre’s and goblins, ignored the dull thoughts coming from those spot. He followed the path of bendithy scouting parties as they moved stealthily through the wood. The vale was a ragged hole of nothingness. His mind’s eye passed over it and found void. Impervious to all outside magic, it protected its secrets well. If Ashara had had the time and the forethought to set up wards against natural disaster it might have been the perfect fortress. She might have thwarted him so easily. But she had never been the strategist. There was no need – her Seelie court was not a court of war. There were others that were. Others that might come to her defense if word reached them. But her defense served also to barricade her from sending out for support. From within she could not call out for help and if she stepped outside the circle of runes he would send down his forces upon her.
He left the area of the vale, amused at his thoughts. Circling away he swung back to his camp. A hint of something familiar tugged at him. His senses perked up, striving to identify the scrap of essence.
Something disturbingly different in its make up, yet intimate in its identity. He tried to pin it down, but it was elusive, flickering in and out of his notice. To the east. It originated to the east. He let his mind’s eye roam in that direction. Then the trail abruptly winked out of existence.
He pulled up short, fuming, holding position just below the fist layer of clouds.
That scent. That scent. Where did he know that scent? Not sidhe. But powerful.
Then it occurred to him why the essence was so different – it was not of this world.
It was human in origin. He snapped back to his body in an instant and lay there for a moment in ruthless contemplation. What he had scented had been the faint remnants of the bond he had made between himself and Alex Morgan. For days there had been nothing from the boy, and now….
As long as the connection existed there was no shielding or hiding from Azeral. He could no disguise himself or his magic, so the fact that he had suddenly disappeared meant he was not alone.
There was another powerful magic user with him. He could only hazard a guess as to who that might be.
With a harsh bark of laughter he leapt from his cot. He sent out a mental bellow for his squire and another to the cour
t to be up and at arms. He was pulling on his armor when the sleepy-eyed bendithy boy who served him stumbled in, dripping from the rain. Impertinent child not to be sleeping at the doorway of his tent ready to serve. A swat to the side of the head was punishment enough for he needed the boy’s help in buckling up the armor.
Gleaming in blue crystal, he stalked out of his tent where his court was gathering. He laughed out loud at their wild-eyed stares, at the barely leashed surge of power that bounced among them.
He called out through the rain and the distant booming of thunder.
“The prey has left its haven. Fled to the east. Captains, send out your fleetest riders to track them.”
Their eyes glinted with sudden, overwhelming excitement. The blood lust ran hard and high. The high hunt had been too long dormant. He was ready to drown their misgivings in the adrenaline of the hunt.
“We ride tonight,” he cried out, raising his sword. They echoed his cry, voices lifted in a beautiful, savage chorus.
His smile turned malicious, demonic one might even say. He needed this outlet every bit as much as his court.
Oh yes, the hunt would ride this night.
~~~
The day appeared heralded by the surprising appearance of the sun between breaks in the cloud cover. It had been some long while since the sun had deigned to show its face over the Vale of Vohar, and even though the rain still fell in the form of a heavy mist, the Seelies gathered outside to bask in the wan, but still bright light. And as ever when the sun shone down upon a rain filled day, a rainbow graced the vale from lip to lip. It was quite a wondrous, hope filled spectacle, and the powerful magic wielders among the Liosalfar gathered to again try to banish the fey induced storm.
Okar was not among them. Neither was Ashara who slept fitfully after a night full of lurid, horrible dreams. He had never seen her cry so much. So hopelessly. There was nothing he could do to rid her of the guilt she had heaped upon herself. Nothing but comfort her and shield her from the eyes of her own people. There were other things afoot that drew his attention though. Aloe and Alkar kept him abreast of what the council had spoken of and who was likely to do what in a fit of impatience.