by Sam Ferguson
Out into the hall and across the carpeted floor he ran, tip-toeing as much as his haste would allow. He stopped at the corner of the opening and then slowly peered around to take a peek. What he found pleased him greatly, so much so that he laughed at the ease with which he was infiltrating an elven mage tower.
There, right around the corner, were a grand set of stairs. They spiraled up and down the center of the tower, with landings at each floor and a giant tree growing along the middle. Jonathan ran to the stairs and glanced both up and down. Seeing no one else nearby, he started downward.
The only problem came as he rounded the tree trunk and came near to the first floor landing. He froze and backed up the stairs two steps when he saw a pair of elves standing just a few feet away. He knew there was no way he could get past them without being seen. He hoped he could wait for them to leave, but to his horror, one of them started walking closer to the stairs.
Pit-pat, pit-pat.
Jonathan silently backed up the stairs but then his stomach turned to stone when he heard voices from above. Next was the sound of many feet on the stairs above him, and they were coming down.
Thimp-thump, thimp-thump-thump.
He knew he only had moments before the elves would all come around the vast tree and he would be sandwiched in the middle. He did the only thing he could think of, he moved to the tree and grabbed a thick, green vine to help slow his descent as he slid down to the lower level. The vine held sturdy enough, but the bark was somewhat rough and he managed to scrape his elbows and hands just enough that he let go about four feet above the lower level, and fell the rest of the way. He landed on a mossy patch of ground, which helped muffle his fall, but it did little to spare his pride. He pulled himself up and stepped over a short railing separating the lower level landing from the area around the tree.
He walked through an archway of black stone into a strange hallway. Unlike the upper levels, there was not as much light here. Sconces were placed along the walls every fifteen feet or so, but instead of the bright, white orbs above, he now saw pale red things that looked like smooth stones. The peculiar instruments hummed low as they emitted their soft light, but Jonathan didn’t mind it. If anything, the humming would help him mask the sound of his walking, and the softer, dimmer light might help him conceal himself better.
He walked around the hallway, passing the first section on the left for the symbol on the door did not match the one on the paper. The next section also didn’t match. Jonathan was about to rethink his plan, but then he found the third section had a symbol upon the door that matched perfectly.
He reached for the black door’s golden handle, and pushed it open. He slipped inside and closed the door behind himself. He then turned to survey the area, expecting to see bookcases or perhaps large desks, but nothing could have been further from the truth.
A long aisle split the large, wedge-shaped room down the middle. Flanking the aisle were thin tables without chairs. Atop the tables were strange, metal bowls set upon tall stems of gold. Beyond the tables were racks of shelves that rose all the way to the ceiling. Where Jonathan would have expected to find paper scrolls, or perhaps large books with handwritten records, he found stones and spheres of metal instead.
He pulled out the instructions from Friil and glanced at them again. “Go to the fourth row on the right, and look for the record on the second shelf from the floor marked with an…” Jonathan again turned the paper and memorized the Taish symbol he was looking for. He walked down the aisle and counted the rows. Then, he ducked between two tables and pointed with his finger as he passed over a sphere of glass, another of jasper, and a third made entirely of gold. When he came to the orb with the matching symbol, he frowned. It was a large onyx stone.
“How is this supposed to help us?” he asked aloud. He took the stone in his hands and shook it up close to his ear. Nothing rattled. He turned it over in his hand, gripping it in various places and trying to twist it open. Again, nothing happened.
Jonathan looked back to the strange bowls on the tables and then an idea came to him. He moved to the nearest table and placed the sphere into a bowl. A green light emanated from the golden stem, up into the bowl and flowing around the stone. The onyx quivered, and then began to hover in the air over the bowl by several inches.
A melody began playing from the stone. The note was low, and drawn out long and methodically. First pitching up, and then down. It was like a melodic pendulum swinging back and forth. Humming up, and then humming down. After a few repetitions, a softer, higher note sounded and the stone began to spin. The melody continued to play for several seconds, and then the stone was still and the green glow disappeared. The onyx stone became clear and a scene played out inside.
A handsome, black elf stood before a desk behind which three other elves sat. They spoke to him in Taish, and he stood silently. Because he could not understand the words they spoke, Jonathan tried to study the scene with his eyes to determine what was happening. As he concentrated, the orb seemed as though it pulled him into the scene through a veil of swirling black mist. Suddenly he found himself standing beside the handsome drow, walking around him and able to study the scene without interrupting it. It quickly became apparent that the drow was on some sort of trial. His wrists were connected by shackles, but more than that, his fingers were each restrained with silver sleeves that were chained tightly together as well.
His mouth was not gagged, but a circlet of metal was fastened around his neck also. As Jonathan looked carefully, he saw that there were chains connected to the stone floor beneath the drow. He turned to the other three and studied them as they spoke in what may as well have been gibberish for all Jonathan cared. They were all Vishi’Tai elves, or high elves. Each had golden hair and sharp, angular features. They wore robes of gold and had small books in front of them that they occasionally glanced to while speaking.
Then, one of them finally said something that Jonathan understood. Amidst the jumble of incoherent syllables and strange sounds, one of them said the word “Larkyn,” and pointed directly at the drow. Jonathan spun around to see the drow, who he now understood was Larkyn, and watched as he hung his head low.
Jonathan turned back to the three elves and saw one of them pull something from inside a wooden box. His eyes shot wide when he saw the very same amulet the troll king had worn.
“No,” Jonathan said. “Nebenuk said that was hidden away a long time ago. How could Larkyn have found it? And if he had, how did he lose it?”
Jonathan turned around and walked toward the image of Larkyn. “What happened, did you give it to the troll king? Is that it? But now you want it back?”
Suddenly, one of the other elves rose from behind the table and spoke in a deafening voice. He spoke the name, “Larkyn,” several times and then he sat back down. Only then did Jonathan notice the onyx sphere sitting upon the table. No sooner had he looked upon it, then he was dismissed from the vision and standing back in the archives where he had been moments before.
The onyx gently lowered to rest in the bowl and there was neither light nor sound coming from it anymore.
Jonathan reached for the stone and turned it over in his hands. Perhaps Ruben would be able to make more sense of it than he was. Maybe that was why Ziegler had wanted Ruben along in the first place. Jonathan went to put the stone in his pocket, but it was too large. As he looked around at his clothes, wishing he had brought his backpack, the door to the room began to creak open.
CHAPTER 8
Jonathan ducked into the row quickly, not wanting to be discovered. He peered through the space over the rocks on a lower shelf and watched as two figures came in and closed the door behind themselves. They both wore blue robes that flowed out with each step. They were speaking in the same language that the elves in the scene from the onyx orb had been, and they were coming ever closer.
Quickly, Jonathan scurried to the outer edge of the row and then ducked around the back side just as the pair came aroun
d to the side he had been on. Keeping his eyes on them, he inched backward toward the exit while the pair walked into the row. His heart nearly froze when the pair stopped right where Jonathan had taken the onyx sphere from.
One of them bent down and Jonathan caught a glimpse of a long nose under a set of golden eyes framed by silver, long hair. Those golden eyes flicked up and instantly locked on Jonathan. A shiver of fright ran up the young man’s spine.
The elves didn’t speak, they just broke into action. One ran left and the other went right.
Jonathan bolted for the door, but the first elf was upon him before he had made it more than ten yards. He grabbed Jonathan and threw him into one of the long tables. The edge of the hard wood dug into Jonathan’s hip and he nearly cried out from the sharp pain. Then, his eyes caught a glint of something in the elf’s hand. Jonathan looked up to see a curved dagger coming at him. He did the only thing he could think of, He ducked to the right and then came up and threw the onyx sphere at the elf. The stone struck Jonathan’s assailant in the base of his throat. Something snapped and the elf grabbed at his chest, wheezing and coughing as he stumbled backward and fell, striking his head on a solid shelf on the way down. His body twitched and his eyes lost their shine as his last breath groaned out of him.
Jonathan barely had time to gather his wits about him before the second elf closed in on him. The elf wiggled his fingers and then a great force knocked Jonathan down to the floor. He bounced three times along the floor as the magical wind continued to drive him back until finally he was pinned against another table.
The elf closed in. Jonathan had nothing to fight with anymore except for his hands. The elf pulled a dirk from under his robes and came in fast. Jonathan turned to run, but the magic pushed him down again and held him face-down upon the floor.
Jonathan closed his eyes, preparing for the worst.
Kaslam! Something echoed loudly in the room.
Zhiiiist, ka-splat!
All at once the magical force disappeared and Jonathan was able to push himself up. When he did so, he saw Ruben running toward him.
“You shouldn’t have come alone,” he scolded as he rushed in to help Jonathan up.
Jonathan glanced over his shoulder to see a smoldering corpse lying several feet behind him. A large, charred hole was burned through his chest and wide, shocked eyes stared into the ceiling.
“What did you do?” Jonathan asked.
“Saved your life,” Ruben replied as he tugged on Jonathan’s arm. “Did you get the record?”
“There,” Jonathan said as he pointed to the first elf. Ruben hurried and took the sphere from the ground and tucked it into a satchel at his side. “Come on, we have to get out of here.”
Ruben was half dragging him through the hallway outside. Behind them, Jonathan heard a commotion of rushing steps down the stairs and shouting voices. They were about to be trapped by a multitude of angry elf wizards.
The two of them ran around the circular hall until they came to a strange metal grate at the end. Ruben pulled it free and then shoved Jonathan inside. A moment later he entered and replaced the grate.
“Keep moving!” Ruben whispered harshly. He pushed Jonathan down a long, dank corridor. Jonathan couldn’t quite tell what they were running on. The floor was firm, but not entirely unyielding like stone. It also made slight squishing sounds with each step, as if there was water inside. Finally, as the last of the light from the hallway stopped piercing the darkness in the tunnel, Ruben stopped them and crouched low, pulling on Jonathan to bring him to a squatting position.
“Where are we?” Jonathan asked.
“We are on one of the tree’s roots. Now, be quiet and let me concentrate.”
Jonathan closed his mouth, wondering how they were going to get out of the mess they were in. The shouting was coming closer to the grate, and he could see the lights growing brighter and brighter with each passing second. Then, just as someone grabbed the grate, Ruben reached out and grabbed hold of Jonathan. A warm, fluid sensation washed over him and then his vision turned black.
Jonathan’s head and ears felt plugged, as if a thick, viscous liquid was running through his every orifice and vein. His nose was filled with the scent of sap, and his head began to throb terribly. His limbs felt solid as stone, and his heart struggled to pump within his chest. He could not breathe, there was only the terrible agony of his burning lungs, yearning for air and fighting to move.
The constriction around his body grew tighter with each passing moment as something grainy and moist pressed against his skin. He felt as though he was stuck inside some great tube that was collapsing with him inside of it. Then, just as he was about to give up hope, the daylight broke through the blackness around him. The pressure released and the suffocating liquid drained from him until he was lying upon the green grass next to a large pine tree in the middle of the forest. The smell of tree sap still permeated his very being, but he was free of the terrible agony that had moments ago threatened to crush him into oblivion.
“We can’t rest, we have to move.”
The voice sounded as though it came from some distant plane, or a dream perhaps. Jonathan could barely make his lower jaw move, but he could not form a response. Even had he been able to, his mind lost focus only seconds after the voice had spoken.
Something gripped Jonathan’s arm and squeezed it tight.
“No,” Jonathan groaned. Fear wormed into his heart as he feared he would have to endure another round of whatever that magic was, but then Ruben appeared in front of him, eyebrow drawn into a tight knot and face red and stern. “Ruben!” Jonathan exclaimed weakly.
“Wake up!” Ruben said.
Jonathan felt a sharp, stinging slap across his face. His senses came back to him and he shook his head.
“We have to move, now!”
Jonathan and Ruben ran deeper into the forest.
“What was that?” Jonathan asked as they sprinted through the trees.
“Druid magic,” Ruben spat.
“You’re a druid?” Jonathan asked. That was the last thing he expected Ruben to say. Since when could a druid control lightning? Druids worked with nature and the elements, but usually only the earth-bound elements. Lightning was never something they could control, or at least not as far as Jonathan knew.
Ruben grabbed Jonathan suddenly and shoved him up against a tree. “Because of you, two elves are dead. I could have gone in without getting caught!”
Jonathan shook his head. “No, it wasn’t like that, they were after the record!”
Ruben’s grip eased up and he studied Jonathan’s eyes for a few moments. “Are you sure?”
Jonathan nodded. “I was hidden. They didn’t know I was in the room. They went straight to where I had picked the stone from, and then when they saw it was missing, they came after me.”
“They thought you stole it,” Ruben said through gritted teeth. “They were right!” Jonathan pushed Ruben with both hands, but it didn’t accomplish as much as Jonathan had hoped. The wizard barely moved a few inches before tightening his grip on Jonathan’s shirt.
“Listen, they pulled weapons without asking anything.”
“How would you know?” Ruben pressed. “Do you speak Taish? Would you have understood their questions?”
Jonathan shook his head. “They didn’t speak. They pulled knives on me and came after me. I tried to run, but they caught me. One of them threw me into a table and then tried to stab me. I had no choice but to defend myself. If they had only wanted the record, they could have easily taken it before you arrived. You tell me, what did you see the second one doing?”
Ruben’s anger faded with that last question and he released Jonathan. He thought for a moment and then nodded. “I have never killed anyone before,” he said softly.
“You killed that giant shark in the waters, and you slew those two wood sprites in the forest,” Jonathan pointed out.
Ruben nodded. “Creatures and monsters yes. I have kil
led a few of those, but never a person.” He looked up to Jonathan. “Sorry. I know we were supposed to get the record, and I knew that would have its risks. I just never thought…”
Jonathan nodded. “I understand. Just, tell me, can the elves do what you just did?”
Ruben looked back the way they had run and shook his head. “We are three miles outside the city. They won’t think to look out here just yet.”
“How did we travel three miles?” Jonathan asked incredulously.
“Too long to explain now, but let’s just say that I can use magic to travel through trees. They have to be large, and they have to have the right energy, but I can make it work.”
“If you can do that, then why not always travel that way through the forest?”
Ruben shook his head. “It’s like running, it tires me out very quickly. More importantly than that, I can’t normally travel with others.”
“But you just traveled with me,” Jonathan pointed out.
Ruben nodded. “That was the first successful time,” he said as he took in a great breath and put his hands over his head. “I’m still not entirely sure how I did it, to be honest.”
Jonathan blinked. “That was your first time with someone else?”
Ruben nodded again. “I have tried with parakeets before, but they always end up getting stuck inside. I haven’t even wanted to try tree-walking for months after my last attempt.” Ruben shrugged and slapped his hands down to his sides. “I guess the gravity of the situation helped me break the barrier.”
“I could have been stuck inside the tree?” Jonathan asked, unable to focus on anything else.
“It was either that or die by elven wizards,” Ruben said. “I did what I had to do.”
Jonathan whistled through his teeth and shook his head. “Let’s not ever do that again then, agreed?”
Ruben nodded and laughed.
“How did you even know the tree was there?” Jonathan asked after a few moments.