Shadows Within the Flame (The Elder Stones Saga Book 2)

by D. K. Holmberg

  “I’m going to leave them until it’s time to lead them.”

  23

  Haern

  Pain rolled through Haern, a kind of pain he had never experienced before. It was a throbbing sensation, and he could barely move. Everything seemed to burn, and though he knew it was temporary, that didn’t change how awful it felt.

  At least he could breathe.

  That was the difference between this poison and the terad. Terad was relatively quick and mostly painless. Though there was an awful sensation of nearly suffocating, it didn’t hurt.

  Not like this.

  This was as if Galen had lit a fire beneath his skin. Everything hurt, leaving him in agony.

  “Enough,” he whispered.

  Darren leaned over, pressing his hands on either side of Haern, and a wave of Healing washed through him, dissipating the poison. When he was done, Darren leaned back and glanced over to Galen. “I’m not sure this is the smartest plan.”

  “What would he do if you weren’t here?” Galen asked.

  They sat in Darren’s home, and Haern rested on the cot, prepared for the possibility that he might fall over. Darren had wanted him to be as safe as possible, placing padding on either side of the cot in case he rolled off during one of their sessions. A fire crackled in the hearth, and Galen sat calmly and casually staring at the fire, paying almost no attention to Haern. Darren hadn’t been able to remain nearly as calm. He watched Haern intently, and when it had looked as if Haern couldn’t tolerate the pain, he had intervened. With this poison, it had happened far more than with the others.

  “I imagine he wouldn’t be dealing with srirach if I wasn’t here. There’s no reason for him to use something like this.”

  Galen tore his attention from the fire and glanced at Haern. “There are many reasons to use srirach. It’s an awful experience.” Haern nodded. “And it’s one you don’t easily forget. It’s difficult to develop a tolerance to it. Usually it can be done slowly over time, but we don’t have that luxury.”

  “Then don’t use it,” Darren said again.

  “I don’t think we have a choice. If he’s going to be as prepared as possible for what he might face, he needs to be able to withstand any sort of torment that might come his way. Even if it’s self-inflicted.”

  “You say that as if speaking from experience,” Darren said.

  “Unfortunately, I have more than a little experience with self-inflicted torment,” Galen said.

  Darren watched him before turning his attention back to Haern. “How do you feel?”

  “When the fire dissipates, I feel fine.”

  “It’s more than fire,” Galen said without looking in his direction. “If the poison lingers, it begins to dissolve the insides.”

  “Why do you carry something like that?” Darren asked. He still seemed shocked to know that Galen had spent time studying with Della, and the more time Darren spent around Galen, the more disturbed he seemed by what he knew. Many of Darren’s medicines were familiar to Galen, but he had different uses for them.

  “There are some people who deserve a brutal end,” Galen said.

  “Isn’t it enough simply to let them die?”

  “Most of the time,” Galen said. “But there are times when it’s better to show somebody exactly why they need to die.”

  “And how does this show anybody anything?”

  “They feel it. They know it deep within themselves, with every bit of their being. And sometimes, there’s a reason to let them have such an experience.”

  Darren watched Galen for a moment before turning away in disgust. “I can’t believe Della worked with you.”

  “She didn’t just work with me. She’s the one who connected me with my mentor.”

  Darren just stared.

  Haern shifted on the cot. The poison had left him uncomfortable; even now, completely Healed, he struggled to ignore the residual effects of it.

  “This is important work, Darren. I need to be able to handle myself if it comes down to it,” he said.

  Darren made his way toward one of the shelves with rows of medicines. He lifted one of the jars, taking it and holding it in front of him, staring at it. “It perverts everything I’ve learned,” he whispered.

  “I thought the same thing.” Galen had stood, and he looked over to Darren, watching him with an expression of regret. His eyes had softened, no longer as angry as before. “I remember when I first came to work with Della. I had wanted nothing more than to master how to Heal. I didn’t have the same ability to Heal that she did, but Della had assured me that my desire to Heal was all that mattered. She said I could work with her, learn how to use various leaves and roots and oils, mix them together, and in doing so, I would be able to help many others.”

  It was the most Galen had ever spoken about what he’d been through. Haern had heard rumors about what Galen had experienced, but nothing more than that. It was something Galen hadn’t wanted to speak much about, even after all these years. Could the wounds still be so fresh?

  If Galen had been exiled, wouldn’t they be fresh to him?

  Maybe that was the key. Anything he’d been through would be hard on him. And as much as Galen might want to move past it, it might not be possible. Could that be the reason Galen had avoided bringing him here?

  “I did help others,” Galen continued. “For a time, I thought my role would be that of a healer. Even in our section of the city, healers had a role. I enjoyed those days. They were some of the easiest and happiest. I read extensively, spending much of my time trying to master the various compounds she wanted me to learn, and over time, I grew quite skilled.” Galen reached the counter with the variety of compounds on it. He lifted a jar, taking off the top and sniffing before setting it back down. “I know how to mix nearly every single substance in here. I can tell you where they are harvested. I can tell you the best way to prepare and store them. I didn’t learn that out of a desire to harm.”

  Darren met Galen’s eyes. “Then why do it?”

  “At first, I had no choice. When I left Elaeavn, I felt as if I didn’t have any purpose, and that if I didn’t take this opportunity, I would end up worse off. After learning what I did, I likely wouldn’t have survived had I not studied with my mentor.”

  “You keep calling him a mentor, but he was an assassin. A killer. A murderer.”

  Galen nodded. “All of those are true. And because they’re true, I should feel regret, but I lost that ability long ago. That has been taken from me, and I doubt it will ever return. But there is strength in overcoming with such things. Had I allowed myself to feel remorse, I would have died. Cael Elvraeth would have died. And one of the sacred crystals would have been lost.” Galen lifted up the next jar on the table near him and shook it for a moment. “You may not like what I had to do, and for that matter, I may not have liked what I had to do, but that doesn’t make it any less useful. There is a need for people like me.” He nodded at Haern. “And people like what he will become. That’s why he must train. He must be ready. And when the time comes, he can’t hesitate. He needs to be able to act, knowing that he can withstand whatever comes his way, that he has been trained, and that he won’t fear poison or death or those who would bring him harm. Hesitation will lead to failure.”

  Galen studied Darren for a long moment. “You view Della as the person who taught you. I view her the same way. And Della understood the truth of what was needed as much as anyone. She didn’t like it any more than you do, but she recognized the necessity of it. It’s why she put me in contact with the man who trained me.”

  Darren let out a frustrated sigh. “I was taught to do everything in my power to help people. And when I was given my gift, when I held one of the sacred crystals, it allowed me to recognize a connection to all those the Great Watcher wanted me to help.”

  “Do you think the Great Watcher wanted you to help everyone?”

  Darren frowned. “Why would he not?”

  “The Great W
atcher sits over us, not intervening. And yet his servants, the people of Elaeavn, are allowed to intervene. He has touched you, influencing you, but he also has touched me and influenced me. The Great Watcher laid his hands upon me, granting me an understanding of my abilities and giving me the opportunity to See.”

  Haern hadn’t moved. It was an odd discussion, and one that he wasn’t expecting to observe. Darren had never objected to Healing anyone before, and perhaps he still didn’t object to Healing, only to the nature of what they were doing. And Haern thought he understood.

  “I need to keep pushing,” he said, looking over to Darren. They had grown up together and had been friends when they were younger. Time had allowed them to grow apart, time and the fact that Darren had taken such a significant interest in his apprenticeship. “If you don’t help, I might end up hurting myself.”

  Darren glanced from Haern to Galen. “I can’t be a part of this. Not anymore. I shouldn’t have in the first place.”

  Galen just nodded. “You must do what you feel is right. And I need to do what I feel is right.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “That means that I’m going to take narcass and veral.”

  “I don’t have—”

  Galen grabbed the jar, setting it on top of the shelf before pulling the top off and plucking out a few leaves, holding them out in front of him. “What was that? I told you that I recognize everything you have in here. The purpose you might have for it is different than the one I might have, but that doesn’t make me any less knowledgeable.” He flashed a smile. “And perhaps it makes me even more knowledgeable. I don’t need to rely upon only learning how to Heal.” He sorted through the jars Darren kept on the shelves, going from one to another until he found what he wanted, stuffing everything he took into a vial or a small leather pouch. Darren watched, staying motionless. “I will make sure that you get resupplied,” Galen said.

  “Don’t bother,” Darren said.

  Galen glanced over to Haern before heading out of the shop.

  Haern slipped off the cot, hesitating as he looked over at Darren, debating whether he should say something—anything—before choosing not to. What was the point? Anything he might say would only anger Darren.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  Darren shook his head. “You’re not sorry.”

  “I am sorry. I didn’t want—”

  “Just go. And don’t bother coming back if you end up killing yourself.”

  “Darren—”

  Darren turned away. “I would do anything for your parents, Haern. Your father helped set me up with Della in the first place, and she saw something in me. She got me out of Elaeavn and kept me from working along the shores in the slums, so I owe your father for that. This is a life I never could have imagined. But what you’re doing goes against what I was trained to do.”

  “I understand.”

  Darren turned back to him. “You don’t understand. You say it, but if you truly understood, you wouldn’t ask of me what you have.”

  Haern turned away. “Just remember that Galen feels the same way about Della as you.”

  When Haern stepped outside, he found Galen locked in a conversation with Haern’s father. Neither man looked happy with the other.

  Haern approached slowly, cautiously, deciding that he didn’t want to deal with his father’s anger any more than he had to. His father had already expressed his displeasure at Haern’s willingness to work with Galen.

  “This is my decision, Father.” Haern stepped between Galen and his father, forcing them apart. “And I don’t need—”

  His father rounded on him, fixing him with a heated expression. “Haern, this isn’t—”

  Haern took a step forward. “This is my decision, Father. And you know that.”

  His father took a deep breath and glanced from Galen back to Haern. “What did you ask of Darren?”

  “Don’t worry, your friend has decided that he doesn’t want to help.”

  “What?”

  “Darren won’t help,” Haern said.

  “Why?”

  “I imagine because of you, Father.”

  “I didn’t instruct him not to help you.”

  “I don’t know that you had to instruct him not to help. I think he has made up his own mind and was willing to do whatever he thought he needed to do to appease you.”

  His father groaned. “You have it wrong.”

  “Maybe,” Haern said.

  He looked around the clearing. His father had erected more of the lorcith rods, placing them in such a way that they would hopefully prevent the Forgers from succeeding at whatever they were planning, but since Haern could detect the pressure from the rods, he wondered if the Forgers could, too. Maybe there was nothing that would make much of a difference.

  “What’s your plan for if those don’t work?”

  “My plan is to continue to do everything necessary to prevent the Forgers from reaching them.”

  “And when that fails?” Haern asked.

  “What makes you think it will fail?”

  “I can detect the lorcith, so I suspect they can as well. Anything you do won’t be enough, not when it comes to the Forgers.”

  His father studied him. “I’ve been fighting the Forgers for a good portion of my life. I’m well aware of what they are capable of,” he said.

  “And this?”

  “You detect lorcith, but what else do you detect?”

  Haern focused on the sense of lorcith. Usually, it was a subtle and soft tugging on his awareness, and lately, as he had been practicing more, there was an even greater tension upon him. With these rods, there was that tension, but there was also something buried, a sense that he had initially thought came from the strange metal the Forgers had placed around the trees. But the more he focused, the more he realized that it was distinct from what he could feel from the trees. This was his father’s work.

  “What did you do?”

  “What needed to be done,” his father said.

  Haern continued to study the trees, focusing on the lorcith. What needed to be done was to remove the threat of the trees, but he didn’t think his father was willing to do that. “And what was that?”

  “I am attempting to remove the metal in a different way.”

  “How?”

  “If you weren’t so caught up in trying to become an assassin, you might have been able to help.”

  Haern shot his father an annoyed look before making his way over to the nearest tree. It happened to be the one for the smith guild, and as he neared it, he held his hand out, away from the metal rods, searching for the sense of lorcith. It pulled downward, reaching deep beneath the ground, and from there, the energy started to curl back.

  It was a strange and subtle thing, but if it did what he suspected his father intended for it, it might be able to shear off the entire outer layer of the tree.

  “Won’t that kill the trees?” he whispered, mostly to himself.

  His father had joined him, and Galen stood on his other side. “It’s possible, but it’s also possible that we can remove the entire layer of what they’ve done and save the trees.”

  Maybe his father was right. Maybe he needed to stop spending so much time with Galen, caught up in trying to become an assassin. He could have helped his father with this. This did fit with his abilities.

  “What happens if this fails?” Galen asked.

  “You want it to fail?” his father asked.

  Galen shrugged. “I don’t want it to fail, for the same reason I didn’t want the Hjan getting ahold of the sacred crystals. But I was prepared for the possibility that they would. And if they did, I was prepared to do whatever it took to ensure that they couldn’t use them. Are you prepared to do whatever is necessary to ensure they can’t use these trees?”

  “I will save the trees,” Rsiran said.

  “And if you can’t?” Galen asked.

  “Are you trying to find out if I’m hard
enough? I think we’ve been through this before. You know that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to accomplish my goals.”

  “No. I know that you’re willing to do quite a bit, but you’re not willing to do whatever it takes. If you were, then we would never have interacted in the way that we did.”

  “Galen, you don’t—”

  Galen flashed a smile. He spread his hands out. “I’m not trying to anger you, Rsiran. We both know if it came down to it, you would have little difficulty handling me. I’m just trying to get you to prepare for what else might be asked of you.”

  Haern glanced from his father to Galen. The words might be directed at his father, but Haern knew they were intended for him.

  Turning his attention back to the trees, feeling the lorcith surrounding them, the effort his father had placed in trying to save the trees, doing everything he could, he knew that Galen wasn’t wrong. They did need to be prepared for the possibility that this would fail. And if it did, if the trees died, or if the Forgers managed to somehow use the power stored within the Elder Trees, they needed to find a way to stop them.

  And that had to be his responsibility now, didn’t it?

  It started with trying to understand if there was a way to save them. If he could come up with something, it was worth it. And if they couldn’t, then he had to be ready.

  Looking over to his father, seeing the way he glared at Galen, he wondered if his father would be in the right frame of mind for what needed to be done.

  It was possible he had already made up his mind.

  And as much at Haern respected his father and everything he’d done for Elaeavn, he wasn’t sure his Rsiran was right about this.

  That was nearly as troubling as the idea that he might have to go against his father.

  24

  Haern

  The forest floor stretched below him. Haern crawled along one of the upper branches, making his way from tree to tree, working quickly as he scrambled across the hidden paths that crisscrossed throughout the heart of the Aisl forest. His heart pounded in his chest, and he struggled to keep his breathing steady. He was trying to maintain a focused pace, not moving dangerously, knowing that if he did, he could slip and fall.