by J Battle
‘But...’
‘And that calls for a celebratory drink, I reckon. And it’s your round.’
Chapter 80 Woewearer
Ellaine pushed her way through the small group and came to the edge of the quay.
‘Stay back everyone. I have knowledge of these creatures.’
She scanned the dozens of creatures that seemed to fill the harbour. There were sixty or seventy of them she reckoned, and that was a rare sight indeed.
She took a deep breath and lowered her head just a little.
‘Greet...ings,...fab...led,...Loos...is,’ she said, each syllable drawn out as long as her breath could hold. The timbre of her voice was an octave lower than usual to aid understanding.
‘We have not seen your kind in these many years,’ she continued, and if anyone had cared to count the seconds, they would have seen five minutes pass in that short set of words.
One of the creatures, a massive male, lifted his body from the water, towering over her.
‘Sleurth...you...speak... to...her. Her...words...are...too...swift.’
His barnacle spotted body eased back into the water with hardly a splash.
Sleurth moved past the others until he was just a few feet from Ellaine.
‘I am known for the speed of my mind, and my speech,’ he said, taking barely a single minute to finish.
‘Greeting then to you Sleurth, on behalf of your people. It is many centuries since I have had the opportunity to speak with such as you. You will not remember Arardskillf I expect, being so young.’
‘I am young, but no-one forgets Arardskillf, and there is surely sufficient shame for us all; Loosis and human.’
‘Indeed, Sleurth, but I was there and I saw the worth of your people. You came close to putting things right.’
She paused then to gather her strength, for this manner of conversation was hard on her throat.
‘But we should put that to one side, for another time,’ she continued. ‘Why are you here, now, in this evil place, at this desperate time?’
Sam had taken a seat on the edge of the quay whilst this seemingly endless and slow conversation had continued. They’d left the ship without breakfast, and he would have said something about that, because breakfast is not a meal to be messed with or missed, in his considered opinion. But the Woewearer’s expression had been stern, and the other adults looked like they had other things on their minds.
If I had a pointed stick, I could catch some fish for lunch, he thought, and he cast his eyes across the water to see what he could find.
‘We are here to offer our help. We are here to stop the evil.’
‘This is not a place for such as you, Sleurth. You are strong, and your intentions are worthy of applause, but this is a task for quicker creatures, who can act on land as required, and who also have knowledge of Magic.’
Sleurth had his head and shoulders out of the water, and his eyes were level with Ellaine’s.
‘Yet still, we are here.’
‘Hang on there a moment,’ whispered Sam, ignoring the tedious discussion, ‘what’s happening here?’
He’d spent the last few minutes looking at the water, and his eyes caught on something strange. He’d stared at it for an age, trying to be sure that he was in fact seeing what he seemed to be seeing.
When he was sure, he turned and grabbed a hold of the Woewearer’s skirt.
‘Miss!’ he hissed.
‘Not now, Sam,’ she replied, sharply, not taking her eyes off the Loosis.
‘No, miss. This is...’
‘Later, Sam, I have to...’
‘No, miss. Look!’ he insisted, pointing.
‘Sam!’ She turned her head quickly. ‘What are you pointing at?’
‘It’s the water, miss. Look at the water.’
‘But...what I am supposed to be looking at?’
Sleurth watched them speak, but the words were far too quick for him to catch their meaning.
‘Look at that barnacle thing, stuck to that big fellow’s belly, just above the water line. Can you see?’
‘I can see the barnacle.’
‘Watch it for a second.’
‘I...but it’s moving?’
‘It’s not moving. It just looks like it is. It’s sort of wavy.’
‘I...’
‘It’s not the barnacle that’s moving. It’s the air. Gorge told me what it is. The air is hot and it makes things look wavy through it.’
‘But, why...’
‘The air is hot because the water is hot. Can you see? That evil thing we’ve come to kill is going to boil these creatures and make them into a stew. I’m surprised he ain’t tossed in a bunch of tatoes and greens for seasoning, as Dan the Man would say.’
‘Quickly!’ said Ellaine, really slowly. ‘You must leave the harbour now, before the water gets too hot. Go now!’
Sleurth stared at her for a long moment as he digested her words. Then he spent another, even longer moment trying to decide if the water was in fact any hotter than it had been when they had first entered the harbour.
With amazing speed, he turned and yelled, ‘Leave!’ and then he began to swim for his life.
Now Loosis are slow speakers and slow thinkers, but when they see such precipitous action from one of their own, even a youngster, they know just what to do.
Don’t think. Don’t talk. Just do.
In less than two minutes from the time Sleurth shouted, ‘Leave!’ the harbour was empty.
‘Well done, Sam, I believe you saved all of their lives with your quick eyes and brain,’ said Ellaine, her eyes on the harbour entrance.
‘I ain’t never had anyone say I had a quick brain before.’
‘Well, Sam, mayhap you’ll surprise us all one day,’ said Tom, with a look on his face that suggested, mayhap he wouldn’t.
‘I’ll give the quick brains to Gorge, ‘cause he told me how to know what I was seeing, and I wish he was here, I do. I expect you’re all as clever as you can be, but there weren’t no-one as clever as Gorge, was there Tom? You know, don’t you?’
‘Ay, Sam. You right enough for a hot summer’s day, you are, but these folks, they’ll get the job done just as well.’
‘Talking about getting the job done,’ said Lancer, with a little bow of apology for interrupting, ‘whilst you have all being enjoying yourselves making your own legends, there has been something of a development that might cause an impediment to the successful conclusion of our mission.’
‘What are you talking about, my dear old, loquacious fool?’
‘Look, if you will, my dear, old, old woman, at the tangleweed along the road there. You will see that it no longer lies along the ground. It has lifted itself up high, leaving plenty of room for us all to walk right on by, if any of our parents raised stupid children.’
Ellaine nodded at his words.
‘It is waiting for us. I’ll wager that is what happened to the Elvenfolk.’
‘But we are too wily for that, are we not?’
Ellaine studied Lancer for a moment before she answered.
‘Mayhap we are, friend. But then again, mayhap we are not.’
Chapter 81 Elstar
‘Whispering wood, indeed! Such stuff and nonsense. Seems dwarf-folk are as prone to silly delusions as their somewhat taller cousins.’
Elstar had left the horrible skinny dwarf behind and was already deep into the forest he’d seemed so fearful of.
‘Quite a nice place to stroll, I’d say,’ he muttered as he walked, looking for signs of Cavour’s passage.
There was a silence over the woods that seemed a little strange, and might have made a lesser creature nervous. But Elstar was of the Elvenfolk, and they had once been denizens of the forest themselves, so there could hardly be anything to worry him here.
The trees seemed ancient, thick and hoary and close together, and leaving little room for easy movement. Fortunately, that meant only sparse undergrowth, so walking quietly in search of
his prey was not difficult.
All of a sudden, a light wind sprang up, shaking the leaves in the trees causing a gentle susurration.
Elstar smiled. ‘Mayhap that is the reason for the name. Nothing very ominous there, I’d say.’
He continued on, and the floor of the woods began to slope downwards. There were still no sounds from birds or other forest dwellers; not even the click of a cricket’s call or the buzz of an industrious bee.
An hour later, with the forest floor still descending, he stopped to gather his bearings. The forest canopy was too thick for him to see the sky, though he knew that it was still daytime. Whichever way he looked, the forest seemed the same and a creature not born to the woodlands might have felt lost.
‘Nothing to worry about,’ Elstar reassured himself. ‘I only have to walk uphill to get back where I started. But I do worry for that poor human. He’ll be lost and wandering, and who knows what will become of him if I don’t lay my hands on him?’
Elstar knew on one level that Cavour getting lost should have been of more concern to him, but there was something about the wood that calmed the soul and he knew that everything would be all right at the end of the day.
He felt suddenly peckish as he came into a little clearing and he decided to look for something to nibble on.
There were bunches of berries hanging from nearby branches. Big succulent blackberries, almost purple in their blackness. Just above them were smaller, red orange berries of a type he didn’t recognise.
He took a handful of the blackberries and dropped them one by one into his gaping mouth.
With his chin stained purple by their juice, he laughed and settled himself down on the ground by the nearest tree for a bit of a rest.
He felt suddenly tired, and he had exerted himself somewhat today. Though his body could live forever, or near enough as makes no difference, he could feel pain and he could feel fatigue, and the older he got, the more tiredness assailed him.
‘l’ll just take a nap,’ he said, sleepily.
He would have nodded off straight away, but he noticed one of the red orange berries hanging just above his head, tempting him with the chance of a new experience.
Anyone who knew Elstar would not have been surprised to find that he was not able to resist the temptation.
With a languid hand, he reached up and plucked the enticing delicacy and popped it straight into his mouth.
The taste was disappointing at first, bland and no match for the mouth-watering blackberries.
Then his tongue began to tingle and he thought, a spicy berry? Now that is unusual.
The tingle turned to heat and, just before he was about to spit it out in annoyance, the berry dissolved into a soothing balm that bathed his throat as he swallowed it down.
‘Well, that was something unexpected,’ he said, with a satisfied smile, ‘but I don’t believe I will be risking another one anytime soon.’
He closed his eyes and felt a warm glowing deep within his stomach. The glow spread to his chest, and them throughout his whole body, and he wasn’t displeased; not at all.
‘I believe I will sleep until the sun has gone and returned once more to light our world, I am so comfortable and relaxed.’
After a moment, he opened his eyes. Not in alarm, but because he felt that there was something he should see.
The trees were there, as they had been, and the berries were as colourful and seductive, but now he could see beautiful birds of all the colours contained within a rainbow, and of so many different species he couldn’t begin to name them.
‘Aah,’ he sighed, enchanted with the sight, though he’d never had time for birds before.
‘Ooh,’ he said, when he spotted a tiny red squirrel peeping from a tree across the clearing, twitching its cute little nose at him.
‘I must be intoxicated in some way,’ he said, but he wasn’t concerned. He was sitting in a lovely wood, populated by wondrous creatures, and he didn’t feel out of place.
He lifted his hand and he smiled at the smooth, unaged skin and the fully-fleshed fingers. He knew that if he looked down at his body, his beauty would far exceed the most extraordinary of the birds on show, but there was really no need. Not when he knew.
He lay still against the trunk of the tree as day turned to night, and night back to day again. There was a soft gentle smile on his face during all of that time, and his eyes stared ahead, seeing what they would see.
As the day waned once more, he shivered and stirred himself, sitting upright and looking from left to right, suddenly confused.
‘Ah now,’ he whispered, and he lifted up his wrinkled, liver-spotted, fleshless hand. He stared at it for a moment before he nodded, as if to say, no surprise there.
He worked his way back to his feet and stretched his back, and he rubbed his numb backside.
He took a turn around the little clearing then, collecting blackberries for nutrition, and the other berries because, well he’d be a fool not to do so.
‘Why work so hard to get my hands on Magic, when all I need is these little beauties?’ he said, knowing full well that he was fooling himself. That the berries offered nothing but a lie.
But it was such a delicious lie.
Chapter 82 Woewearer
‘Rootheart, my dear, will you step over here with me?’ She walked on a little way, being careful not to approach the rampant tangleweed.
‘Yes, my sweet intoxication?’ There was a smile on his face. Despite everything they faced, there was a smile on his face.
Ellaine could not easily have matched it, but in any case, she made no effort. This was hard, what she was about ask of him, and she already felt the pain.
‘My dear, we must see what manner of creature we face, and he is hidden within this monstrous growth. It must be removed.’
‘I see that, but it is such a massive and overgrown thing. You ask me to remove it, but it must be beyond even my strength, I reckon, unless it be lighter than a faerie’s wish.’ He clenched his great fists as if to suggest that he would give it a go anyway.
‘My dear, our foe is aglow with Magic, and the tangleweed is also...tainted, I’d say.’
‘With Magic?’
‘Ay, lad. You must take the tangleweed in your strong, beautiful hands, my love.’
‘But...’
‘I know, Rootheart. I know the cost to you, and I will feel your pain. But it must be done. We cannot defeat a foe we cannot see, so you must reveal him to us.’ There were tears in her eyes as she spoke, but her voice remained calm.
‘But...you know what will happen to me?’
‘Yes, my dear. I do. But there is no other choice for us.’
Rootheart turned from her.
‘My name is Rootheart, and I named myself, because no-one else cared to, and I will do this, because it must be done. I will do this because you ask it of me.’
He took a deep breath and it seemed that it would never stop, and then he stepped onto the road and strode towards the tangleweed.
‘Lancer,’ called Ellaine, her eyes on the half-giant’s back. ‘Ward him, my old friend, for he will be sorely hurt, if he survives at all.’
‘Ay, Woewearer, that is something I can do, but tell me this, if you will. Who will ward you?’
She watched as Rootheart stopped, just within the shadow of the green beast he was about to assault.
‘No need for that,’ she said, softly, and if she spoke to Lancer or Rootheart, none could tell.
She watched as Rootheart leant towards the gross plant, and gripped two thick thorns in his massive hands. Bracing his feet, he gave it a good tug, but the plant was immovable.
For a moment, nothing happened. Rootheart just stood there, leaning somewhat away from the mass of the tangleweed. Then he began to scream as the Magic assailed him, and his body jerked as if he would dearly love to release his grip.
Ellaine forced herself to keep her eyes on him; that, at least, he deserved. She watched as his beloved bod
y burst into flames and a wave of hot air washed over her.
Her hand lifted involuntarily, mayhap seeking to offer aid, but there was none to be given.
Great waves of dark smoke sprang from the tangleweed as it took flame, and it crackled and hissed in anger as it burned, the fire leaping from place to place, eager and hungry and unstoppable.
Even when Rootheart collapsed into a fiery lump on the brightly lit road, the fire continued unabated and unabatable.
‘Go to him, Lancer. See what can be done for him,’ she urged.
Lancer rushed to give aid, pulling his cloak from his shoulders as he ran.
He bent over Rootheart and threw his cloak over him, as if to shield him from the cold, and he patted away at the body beneath the cloth, trying to douse a flame that wouldn’t cease to burn until it was good and ready.
The fire was rampant now, racing across the length and breadth of the massive plant, and the tangleweed burned as if it was as eager as the flame. In next to no time, it was gone. Reduced to naught but smoky ash, revealing the harrowing truth of its hunger, for, coated in that dark ash, were the remains of more than one hundred dead bodies, stripped of flesh as they were stripped of life.
Ellaine tore her eyes from Lancer and Rootheart and she sought him out. She found him by the soot-stained palace, standing untouched by the flames.
If she had expected a monstrous creature, a monster powered by gross abuse of Magic, then she would have been surprised. For standing there, unharmed and unclothed, was a child. No more than four of five Summers of Age, she expected. She looked past him for danger, but all she saw was the prostrate body of a woman, lay to one side of the child, blooded and broken, but protected somehow from the ferocious flame.
She walked forward, knowing that she was offering herself up to something she could not understand.
‘Where…’
She stopped as she heard running feet behind her. She turned and found Prince Torn racing towards her, grabbing at the hilt of his sword as he ran.
For the first time she noticed that the hilt was wrapped in layers of cloth.