Compendium

by Alia Luria

  “I made it myself,” he whispered and winked at her.

  Most of them wore armor beneath their robes, varying between finely wrought mail, plate, or some sort of leather cuirass. It wasn’t a side of the Order Mia had seen until this retrieval mission. She had forgone the heavy armor and was glad she did. She never would have survived the climbs and other contortions with a chest plate strapped to her. She gripped the throwing knives that rested along her belt. She had strapped them on before her descent into the detention room, and they were still securely attached to her waist.

  “All right,” SainClair said, unsheathing his long sword. “Let’s move in. Stay together. Cover each other, and don’t get killed.”

  Mia frowned and nodded at her uncle. It seemed like suicide to proceed directly toward the elder grove, but there were no other entrances, and the trees were much too thick to burrow through in some indirect fashion, as she previously had done. As they walked slowly and quietly, she was struck by the eerie silence of the forest. The drone of the trees’ energy was loud to Mia, but even in such instances, she usually could hear birds, insects, and other manner of fauna.

  The dense hum of the trees couldn’t be blocking out the other noises, she thought. Compendium, is something blocking the forest noises here?

  For the first time since she had activated the auditory communication with Compendium, it didn’t respond. She thought the question once more but again received no response. Compendium’s calm voice was gone. Stifling a slightly greater than small wave of panic rising from her guts, Mia pulled the book from her robes and opened the cover. It still displayed the map, but the interface didn’t change with her thoughts. She whispered at the book, but still nothing. Whatever blocked Compendium from sensing the Shillelagh and Cedar had blocked its entire interface when they had passed into the grove. She tried not to panic any further and kept her thoughts on the task at hand. At least we still have the map.

  She tucked the book back into her sash and continued the cautious advance toward the entrance to the thickest group of trees. As they moved close, the odd silence grew deeper, even as the vibrating hum coursing through Mia’s extremities grew more pronounced. The power of the trees in the Druid elder grove matched the Order’s, as did their beauty. Mia saw no sign of wildlife among the sprawling giants, but the night lights still flickered through the tree branches, and sporadic gourds released a soft glow here and there from their vines, which curled gently around the delicate smaller branches of the surrounding trees. Visually it was a stunning display of tranquility and peace, which made Mia’s knowledge of their job that much more disconcerting. They crept along for five eternities. With each step, her apprehension grew, raising the tiny hairs on the back of her neck.

  At some distance out, they began to pass under the massive branches that sprawled well out from the central trunks, and Mia took a moment to look up, peering into their thick masses. The trunks of the branches were larger than the trunks of many trees in the tropics. Unlike the smaller trees of the Village, however, no structures were settled into the high branches of these elder trees except for the stronghold nestled between them, the entry to which they were headed directly toward.

  “How is it that we’ve seen no Druids yet?” Mia asked SainClair, her voice the barest of whispers.

  “It’s most certainly a trap,” he said through tight lips, his words reinforcing her own nagging fears.

  “Then why are we bothering to skulk about?” she said, her voice slightly louder.

  “I’m not sure,” he added, “but this deep silence compels me to keep my voice low.”

  Mia chuckled ever so slightly at his quirked eyebrows and his look of confusion as he said those words. “Compendium is frozen,” she said. “Something is blocking it.”

  “The Druids must have an artifact or some other method of dampening the transmissions.”

  “I don’t understand how they can dampen Compendium here, in the center of their own grove. It makes no sense.”

  SainClair shrugged. “I’m not the one to ask,” he said softly.

  They approached the entrance to the structure. No Druids jumped out at them brandishing weapons. No trapdoor dropped them down to the earth in one massive fall. Mia grew cold on the inside as they passed through the immense threshold carved with runes and intricately delicate designs in a language she didn’t understand. The wood of the structure nestled among the elder trees looked to her eyes as if it had been crafted from elderwood itself. She considered this likely and shook her head lightly at the thought of the possibility; it seemed such a tremendous waste and a tragedy. She couldn’t fathom the desire to dismantle an entire elder just to make a fortress. She supposed they could have just found one that had come to the natural end of its life, but Mia never had heard of an elder dying. It was lore that their sprouting had marked the beginning of Lumin and their death would mark the end. Perhaps it’s just stained and manipulated to look like elderwood. Her body shivered beneath her robes, as if she had entered a structure made of human bones.

  The smell of wet earth and wood assaulted her nostrils as they passed through the arched doorway. A long, massive tunnel stretched out before them. Mia scanned the interior of the tunnel, but she was unable to gauge its size. The ceilings were high and curved gracefully above their heads with an eerie life that made her think perhaps the bones had ghosts. The Order tended to light its structures with carefully concealed vines running through the walls in hidden channels, supporting gourds invisibly and making it appear as if they were simply set into sconces. Here vines openly crawled along the walls and up toward the ceiling around them, with gourds dotted among the curling nests and bathing the tunnel in a greenish glow. Mia found the effect at once peaceful and intimidating.

  The silence persisted, even as she would expect the thrum of the elder trees surrounding them. It lent an unnatural feeling to overtly natural scenery and did nothing to calm her burgeoning nerves. She grasped at Compendium through her sash. Despite its nonresponsive interface, the book still felt reassuringly warm against her stomach. They proceeded in total silence, the only sounds being the careful footfalls of the clerics on the hardwood floors echoing in the dense silence. According to her recollection of the map, the chamber housing the Shillelagh was all the way at the center of this fortress. It wasn’t a straight shot, however, as the tunnel curved around elder trunks, leaving some corners blind.

  Mia pulled Compendium from her sash and examined the map again as they continued down the curving hall toward the center of the grove. Though the clerics’ location was no longer marked among the lines composing the map’s diagrams, Mia could guess it for the most part. Eventually this hallway would give way to a forked set of passages. She grappled with asking someone to man the fork as they proceeded but thought better of it. They likely would have only one chance to escape, so they would need to stick together.

  As they approached the fork, she gestured to the others to take the right passage. She was momentarily relieved that the right passageway also was empty, but this feeling mixed with the increasing sense that she and her companions were fodder. They weaved along like this, burrowing deeper into the bowels of the Druid’s elder grove like beetles seeking refuge from a deluge. At last they reached the open doorway that led to the chamber that contained the Shillelagh. As they stood silently, Mia peered quickly around the edge of the entranceway, still holding Compendium in her right hand.

  A sudden strangled cry caught in her throat. Cedar was hanging aloft above the ground, secured to the back wall of the chamber like a ragdoll. He was strung up by his arms, and his head hanging limply against his chest, his body completely inert. His face was a ruin of blood and gore. Regaining her voice, Mia let out a roar of fury that sounded foreign and animalistic to her ears. Her mind ceased to function, and her body took over. She leapt into the room, racing toward Cedar’s immobile frame. She thought of nothing but him. She whipped one of the knives from her belt with her left hand and continue
d her charge forward. From the corner of her vision, she sensed movement and flung the knife in her hand toward a cloaked figure emerging from the shadows. The figure cried out and sunk to the ground. She didn’t even bother to look for the Shillelagh, so consumed was she with fear for Cedar.

  Weapons clashed behind her as she charged on, pulling another of her knives from her belt. The room was large, with a domed ceiling of carved wood. The walls were disrupted, as parts of the trunks of several massive elder trees grew up and through the sides of the room. Still, Cedar’s prone form was clearly visible, lit by hanging gourds and the lights of the night sky overhead. He was strung up with vines encircling his wrists and snaking down his arms and around his torso. Whether he was breathing, Mia didn’t know, but she operated as if he were.

  Ignoring the sounds of fighting behind her, she leapt at the back wall of the room, hastily shoving Compendium into her sash. After placing a second knife between her teeth and gripping the vines before her, she heaved herself upward and climbed up the back wall. The vines were thick and hot under her hands and almost spongy in a way she hadn’t expected. She hastily pulled herself up. The sounds of weapons clashing and angry shouts were now distant. We’re quickly going to be outnumbered. She shook her head. She had to concentrate.

  As Mia clung to the rubbery vines and pulled herself higher, she tried to determine whether she was coming up on Cedar in the correct position. He remained unresponsive despite the cacophony below and her occasional shouts of his name. Just as her head passed his feet, something hard struck her from behind. Her breath was briefly knocked out of her as she slammed against the wall. The disorientation of extreme pressure was quickly replaced by a burning, throbbing sensation that seared through her right shoulder. She looked down to see crimson spreading down the right side of her robe. Repressing a scream lest she lose her knife clenched between her teeth, she fought through the burning ache in her shoulder and accelerated her climbing speed.

  An arrow whizzed past her head and lodged itself to her left in the wall. Taking a deep breath, she heaved herself around, straining to see to her right. Cedar’s limp form hung directly next to her. She twisted her torso and hooked her right arm through a hanging vine to steady herself. After taking the knife from her mouth with her left hand, she hacked at the vines that were restraining Cedar and holding him aloft.

  “It’s just me,” she said reassuringly, as if addressing a child. “I’m going to cut you free now. I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m here for you.” The vine around her arm started to clench tighter—these vines were mobile. As she worked to release Cedar, one of them wormed its way around her ankle.

  “The vines don’t want me to fall either,” she said to Cedar, not at all certain he heard her. “Perhaps they should tell the others to stop shooting arrows at us.” Under normal circumstances, she’d be utterly enthralled with the prospect of experimenting with and learning the properties of these vines, which seemed capable of growing and moving at what seemed to be breakneck speed. However, the harder they gripped, the more Mia wanted to be let go. She slit vine after vine that pressed along Cedar’s torso. Finally a snap came from somewhere near his left arm.

  “I hope that was the vine and not your arm,” she said with no response. “Although I suppose it’s the least of our problems at the moment.” She’d already sliced open all the vines along his torso and up his right arm. Now he hung by just his left arm. She grimaced and looked down at the floor of the chamber. Hopefully cutting him loose wouldn’t injure him further; she really had no other choice, though. She wrapped her right arm tightly around his torso and sliced the last of the vines that secured his left arm.

  “Don’t worry,” she whispered, “I have you. We’ll make it out of here. I won’t let you go no matter what.” For an instant, she was relieved to feel his heart beating under her hand. It wasn’t the strong, steady beat to which she was accustomed, but it reassured her that at least she wasn’t retrieving a corpse. Cedar didn’t regain consciousness at her touch—though she supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised—as her voice had elicited no response. Up close she still had a hard time making out the specifics of his injuries, although his head clearly was covered in blood. She cringed as she looked at him, a meaty pulp where his right eye should be.

  “We’ll get you fixed up,” she said to him, although her voice sounded frail to her own ears. Their bodies began to fall as if in slow motion. They both hurtled toward the ground, the force of Mia’s falling body weight ripping her free from the vines that had begun to cling to her arms and legs. She went limp, trying to absorb the impact and shield Cedar from additional harm. As she slammed into the ground, her consciousness slipped away in a haze of pain and slick blood, her arm still wrapped tightly around Cedar and her left hand gripping her throwing knife.

  35 Shillelagh

  Lumin Cycle 10152

  Mia awoke to a stabbing pain in her shoulder. Colors swam dimly in front of her eyes, and a familiar voice carried through the fog in her head.

  “There she is,” it said maliciously. The voice was accompanied by a sharp, needlelike pain that dug into the depths of her shoulder. A choked moan erupted nearby, startling her. The froggy voice was her own. When her eyesight cleared, a vine-covered wall materialized above her. Obstructing it was the familiar face of Taryn frowning down on her. She held the Shillelagh in her right hand, its pointed tip pressed deeply into Mia’s injured shoulder. When she squirmed slightly under the pressure, Taryn pushed the stick deeper into her wound.

  Mia had no idea how long she had been unconscious. Her mouth felt gummy, and she was lying in a tangled ball on the floor of the great room. Mia’s her arm entwined around Cedar, who remained blissfully unaware of their current situation. Behind Taryn, Mia saw the others—battered, bloody, and bruised—their arms secured behind their backs by a complement of Druids. Mia noticed then what Taryn held in her left hand. It was Compendium.

  “I suspected, hoped really, that I hadn’t seen the last of you,” Taryn said, fingering Compendium’s leather cover with her thumb. “Or this.” She held the book out to Mia, her expression no warmer than before. “Although, as I’m sure you’re aware, Compendium doesn’t work in our elder grove.”

  Mia’s head swam, and she tried to control her tongue enough to form words. Instead she just blinked and stared.

  Taryn, undaunted, gestured to Cedar’s prone form. “I certainly didn’t expect you to send Cedar in to do your dirty work. After all, it is your fault that we have the Shillelagh, isn’t it?”

  Mia’s eyes narrowed, and a frown crossed her lips. Taryn smiled, clearly elated that she had hit a nerve.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you think that I actually wanted to run off with you?” she sneered.

  Mia’s cheeks grew warm with embarrassment. It wasn’t just the mocking in Taryn’s voice but the fact that her uncle and the others could hear her taunts and recall the way in which Mia had betrayed them. The betrayal was her source of embarrassment, not anything Taryn could say to her.

  “I thought you were a friend, but I suppose it’s my fault for being a poor judge of character.” Mia’s voice sounded hoarse when it finally erupted from her throat.

  “I did fancy you my friend,” Taryn said, “but unfortunately, I have no place for friendship right now. My grandfather is counting on me to protect our lovely Shillelagh here and to bring honor to our name.” She dug the Shillelagh deeper into Mia’s shoulder.

  A wave of dizziness caused her cruel features to spin before Mia’s eyes.

  “Unfortunately, my friend,” she continued, although there was suddenly a faraway look in her eyes, “you have been proven to be quite the gullible fool.” A blond eyebrow raised into a knowing arch, as if they shared some secret regarding Mia’s deficient intellect.

  “I suppose you need to tell yourself that,” said Mia, forcing her words through the pain spidering across her upper body. “It’s much more convenient for me to be gullible than for you
to have feelings, after all.”

  Mia may have underestimated Taryn, and she certainly had misjudged her, naïvely perhaps. In Mia’s mind, they had shared a bond that transcended politics. And if that was naïve, so be it. She couldn’t give up on trust or friendship; Taryn wouldn’t ruin those for her. Perhaps Taryn also misjudged and underestimated her. If she thought Mia an insipid fool, all the better for Mia.

  “I still don’t know what I did to you, Taryn, to make you hate me so.” The words sounded whiny and weak, but if Mia could put Taryn her off guard, perhaps they all had a chance. She quelled her struggle against the Shillelagh pinning her to the ground and let herself relax and regroup.

  “Oh, you’re a prime fool,” Taryn continued, not even skipping a beat. Her eyes gleamed as she stared down at Mia’s prone form. “Can’t you even see that I used you the whole time?” Again, something flickered in Taryn’s eyes, and Mia latched onto that hesitation.

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe you. We shared too much for that friendship to be a complete pretense.” Mia did her best to look hurt, although frankly there wasn’t much pretending in her expressions. While Taryn had talked, Mia had surveyed their situation from the corners of her eyes. Her left arm was trapped underneath Cedar’s body. Her hand tingled with disrupted sensations, and she gently flexed her fingers to restore the circulation. It still held the knife, and it was out of Taryn’s sight but also trapped beneath Cedar’s weight. The others were bloody and battered but alert and on their feet. They were held clumped in a group, surrounded by Druids with swords aloft and ready to pierce. Mia saw her companions watching her, their faces largely appearing emotionless—except for perhaps Borus, who always did a poor job of masking his emotions. His brown eyes were narrowed, his teeth bared inside his dark, heavy beard in a wide sneer that bordered on a grimace.

  “Yes, you fool,” Taryn was saying in the background, her eyes darting to the other Druids who were listening keenly to their conversation. “I was sent there—really I volunteered to go and immerse myself in the Order to learn its secrets and uncover the artifacts hidden within. We Druids have believed in the existence of a powerful artifact that could allow instantaneous travel, but I was the one who took the rumors and speculations and made them into something real and tangible.”