by Joanne Vruno
Summer of Elves
Book 1 in the Seasons of Elves series
Joanne Vruno
North Star Press of St. Cloud, Inc.
St. Cloud, Minnesota
Copyright © 2014 Joanne Vruno
All rights reserved.
Print ISBN: 978-0-87839-726-6
eBook ISBN: 978-0-87839-847-8
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
First edition: September 2014
Published by:
North Star Press of St. Cloud, Inc.
P.O. Box 451
St. Cloud, MN 56302
www.northstarpress.com
Dedication
I was blessed with an amazingly adventurous mother named Alice who was an avid gardener, photographer, traveler, and cherished all forms of nature. She also was one hundred percent Swedish and spoke Swedish. Her heritage was very important and she enjoyed sharing it with our family. Before she passed away, my son and his wife chose to name my first granddaughter after my mother. That is how the two main characters of this story, Alice and Aly, were formed.
I dedicate this book to my mother, Alice, and my granddaughter, Aly, who share the same adventurous spirit and love for the outdoors. In many ways they share the same kindred spirit.
Acknowledgments
I continue to be humbled by my wonderful friends and family members who volunteer to read, edit, and give their honest opinions as I write. Each input strengthens, enlightens, and assists in the development of my stories.
Dan and Shirley, I appreciate your constant support and willingness to read through the rough copies. Sofia, Isabel, Carter, and Beth, thank you for the teenage review of this book. Diane and Sarah, I felt honored when you both asked to edit the story. Danny, thank you for creating and filming the trailer for this book and Aly for being my star.
I also want to thank the three wonderful people who took time to read and write reviews: Pat Mancini, Martha Rossini Olson, and Jeannie Roberts. Nothing is more rewarding for an author than reading someone’s positive thoughts about their work.
Table of Contents
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Autumn of Elves
About the Author
Prologue
The castle’s great hall doors swung open as Borg, one of the light elves’ guards breathlessly rushed in, “Your Majesties, your Majesties, the rock elves are retreating! They are heading back to the northland!”
King Klas and Queen Astrid were seated around the long table with the kingdom’s top advisers reviewing the night’s strategic defense plans against the attacks from the rock elves.
“Borg, what do you mean they’re leaving?” questioned the king. “They’ve been camped on the other side of Lake Vättern for one thousand years. Suddenly they’re giving up? Leaving?” The king rose to look out on the lake and the dense forest region visible from the balcony of the castle. He caught glimpses of the troop movements as the rock elves marched away north, leaving their forest encampment and the elf kingdom of Ijus.
“What would make them leave, Your Highness?” said Aron, the king’s highest advisor. He, too, had risen to look. “This makes no sense.” And it really didn’t. King Helmar had sworn never to surrender and promised he would fight to his death or to overturn the kingdom. “He wouldn’t just pull out his troops without some cause. This does not make any sense,” said Aron. “Something’s going on.”
King Klas began to pace back and forth across the opening to the balcony. “Send out spies to listen to what’s being said in their ranks. Send Am on his eagle to the high country. We need to know what King Helmar’s up to.”
Borg quickly ran out of the room to find Am, who was admired by all in the castle for his skillfulness in being able to overhear the enemy. No other elf knew how to penetrate the enemy lines the way Am did. No one could blend into the wilderness better.
Torn, one of the castle’s tomtes, entered the hall carrying Fisk, limp in his arms. The poor old gnome had been beaten to a pulp. “He’s in bad shape. I think his legs are broken, your Majesty. I spotted him from the castle window, sprawled out on a large stone in the river just at the bend. He hasn’t regained consciousness, and his breathing is labored.”
The king rushed to Torn and the gnome. “Lay him on the table,” he ordered.
It took only minutes before the king’s healing magic took over. Fisk started coughing out river water, and his eyes fluttered. He caught sight of the king and tried to speak, which brought on more coughing.
“Save your breath, old friend,” the king said soothingly. “Just rest until your strength comes back.” He looked up at Torn. “Did anyone witness what happened to him?”
The tomte said, “I don’t know, Your Majesty.”
The gnome waved weakly, then forced himself to whisper, “They know, Your Highness. They know.” Then he fell back, too exhausted to say more.
“They know what, Fisk?”
The gnome didn’t answer. His body had chosen to rest along with his mind. He lay limp but his breathing was strong.
Silence filled the room as all that were present waited for the next words from the elderly gnome. Slowly, Fisk’s eyes fluttered as they started to open. He reached out and grasped the king’s wrist. “They know of your son, Your Highness.”
Concern filled the room. Without an heir to the throne, all would be lost.
“How, Fisk, are you sure they know?” asked the king.
The gnome pressed his eyes shut and shook his head. “I was underground at my post when I heard King Helmar’s voice. He was questioning someone about what news they found out in the castle. I could not see who he was speaking to. I heard a female voice telling King Helmar about a cook, who was reminiscing about castle life before the war. As she spoke she suddenly recalled the queen was with child at that time. The whole kitchen staff was taken aback by that comment. Nobody had ever heard of a royal child. The old cook thought it was odd that the child just seemed to vanish.
“As soon as I heard that, I waited for Helmar’s response, which came after a time of silence. He dismissed the female spy and called for his top advisor. His voice was muffled as he spoke in a quiet tone, but I heard him give orders to go search for the hidden heir to the light elves. At that moment, I moved as quick as I could toward the castle. In the process, I made one grave error: I surfaced too soon and was caught by a passing dwarf searching for his dinner. He chose to turn me over to King Helmar instead of making me his meal. I was tortured in hopes to get information from me. I stayed s
ilent. Soon, all went black. Then I woke up here. How did I get here?”
“Old friend, I found you in the middle of the river,” said Torn, resting a hand on his friend’s shoulder.
The queen looked so distraught that her husband put his arm around her as he spoke. “A thousand years of war have gone by before they found out. I guess we consider ourselves lucky we kept him safe for all these years. Nine colonies of light elves left this kingdom. They know the lands where they currently reside. They have been taught all of our magical techniques by our strongest warriors. Through time, these colonies have grown in numbers and in strength. Helgar will have a hard time finding them throughout this world.”
He held the queen’s hand as gave his orders. “Aron, send out scrolls immediately to each of the colonies. Let them know they are to stay extra alert, because the rock elf troops are in search of any sign of light elves. They have discovered that some left the castle before the war. Send that single alarm to all the colonies, but to the colony harboring the prince, include the knowledge that King Helmar knows a prince lives and has left the castle.”
Aron quickly left to follow the king’s orders. The others in the room looked toward the king for direction, which they quickly received. “We need to search the castle,” the king said, “ especially the kitchen area, for any more rock elves who may have disguised themselves as light elves. Check everyone’s eyes. Bring me anyone with black or hazed-over eyes. We cannot risk having any more spies.
“Klas, can they really keep him safe?” asked the queen as she tried to stand strong.
The king hugged his wife as he reassured her, “Without doubt, my dear, the rock elves have no knowledge of the nine guardians. Their powers are stronger than any rock elf army.”
Chapter 1
I smiled with a sense of pride as I took the familiar step from Grandma’s garage down into her backyard and into what I considered her secret garden. Unlike times past when my sister, Emily, and I viewed it as our magical world of make-believe, the backyard had changed—it was now my first job. I was leaving childhood today and entering into the grown-up world. After all, I was twelve, had left elementary school and was entering my second year of middle school. It was time to leave behind childhood fantasies and the world of magical fairytale creatures. Though they were fun, I would leave them to my little sister, Emily.
Speaking of Emily, I laughed as she ran past me and headed straight to the pond at the back of Grandma’s yard. I watched her as she lay down on the gray stones surrounding the bubbling brook that flowed into the pond. I suppose she was imagining the koi fish beings mermaids as we did for so many years. She had a few more years to enjoy childhood being that she was two years younger than I was.
As Grandma entered the yard I proudly walked up to her and announced, “I’m ready to start my first day of work.”
Grandma and Grandpa had built this beautiful yard bit by bit over the years. They had completed it about two years ago in time for their retirement, unfortunately Grandpa passed away last year. Grandma knew the upkeep was way too much for one person and had offered me a summer job of working with her to maintain this beautiful place. Being that I spent the majority of my childhood summers here while my grandparents watched Emily and me two days a week as our mom worked, this yard had a special place in my heart. I jumped at the opportunity to be part of keeping the gardens beautiful.
Grandma smiled, “Well, here are some garden gloves, a trowel, a hand rake, a bucket for weeds, and a hat.” Grandma was known as a hat person and always insisted we wear hats while outside to protect us from the hot rays of the sun. “I think I’ll have you start over by the maple tree. See all these little saplings bursting through the wood chips between the green hosta plants? They’re baby maple trees sprouting from all these seeds lying around. I’d have a forest in my backyard if we didn’t remove them. I need you to pull them out and pick up the loose seeds on the ground and toss them into your bucket.”
I nodded as I knelt down and started to pull up baby trees and the hundreds of seeds all over the wood chips. Funny, for years I thought of these seeds as magical, propelling down from the giant silver maple in the center of the yard. Now, they just seem to be a pain to pick up.
Grandma moved over to Emily, placing a hat on her head as Emily barely moved, her focus completely on the fish in the pond. Mom had a dentist appointment and had asked Grandma if she wouldn’t mind an extra person for the day, so Emily had come with me. Grandma gave Emily the option to make money weeding or just relax in the yard. Emily chose to just hang out.
One tree sure produced a ton of seeds. My bucket was quickly full, so I stood up and dumped the contents into a giant refuse bag. I picked seeds in a new area, then I paused and focused on the tree trunk for a moment. It was enormous. So wide my arms could not fit around it. It made me wonder how old this tree actually was.
It was peaceful sitting in the yard picking up seeds. That changed as I reached for a small sapling under a large oval leaf and suddenly noticed movement among the leaves of the hostas surrounding the maple trunk. I sat back and stared at the plants waiting for whatever it was to appear. I knew sometimes toads or garter snakes came into the yard. I was hoping for a toad. After not seeing any more movement, I returned to my spot and started to work, convincing myself nothing could bite me through the gloves I wore. My eyes were on alert, but I tried to calm myself. Maybe it was just a summer breeze. I immediately jumped up when I noticed another leaf move on the other side of the tree. As I stood there searching for what it was I called out, “Grandma, I need you over here!”
Grandma quickly left Emily on the wooden swing near the pond and came over by me. “Aly, what’s wrong?”
“There is something in the hostas. I have seen leaves moving over there,” I stated, pointing in the direction of the last movement.
With Grandma at my side, we began searching together through the leaves. We both stopped and froze in our shoes when out of nowhere a tiny hand appeared on a large hosta leaf. Immediately another hand appeared and soon they were parting a group of leaf stalks, out peered two crystal blue eyes, surrounded by long silvery-white hair held back with a crown of tiny lavender flowers. A miniature woman stood, hesitating as she looked at me, but still proceeded into a clearing. She was about the same size as a Barbie doll, and was dressed in an elegant long emerald-green dress with a gold cord around her waist. She was strikingly beautiful, with an exquisite face unlike anything I had ever seen before. She stood strong and tall, her eyes staring hard at me. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Grandma immediately pulled out a golden amulet that had been hanging on a gold chain under her shirt and held it high. It seemed to sparkle at her touch and then gave out a flash of light. She faced it towards Emily and it flashed again She turned to face the small woman and started speaking in a language I did not recognize. The little woman seemed uncertain as she looked first at me and then at Emily across the yard. She replied to Grandma’s words and then broke down in tears. Grandma moved closer to her to give her a gentle pat, her hand curling around the small woman’s shoulders like a cape. I could tell by both of their expressions that something was very wrong. I also realized Grandma knew this small woman and that they spoke the same language. They actually seemed to be old friends.
Grandma was consoling this woman in a strange dialect. Then I recognized a phrase Grandma had spoken several times to me when I was upset. The two of them must be speaking Swedish! Whatever Grandma had said calmed down the little woman enough to make her stop crying.
Grandma took that moment to look at me. “Aly, this is Silver,” she announced as she drew me closer.
“Silver, this is my granddaughter Aly. It is time for Aly to know about you, Silver, as she is the one to follow me and become the new guardian. She is of age now and needs to start her training and be taught the responsibilities that come with being the guardian.”
The conversation soon turned to Emily, and I heard Grandma speak her name. The two women’s voices were harsh towards each other, as if in a heated battle of words. Emotions were high as the conversation continued. Finally, it seemed like they were starting to reason with each other, as if trying to find solutions to a problem. Neither smiled as they talked, but the anger had subsided. In fact, both of them looked extremely worried about something.
My mind went back to Grandma’s words: “She’s destined to follow me as the new guardian. “What was she talking about? I’ll be guardian of what? What lessons and responsibilities do I need to learn?
Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted with the realization that the two women had stopped talking and instead were both staring directly at me. Neither said anything, though I could tell whatever was going on now included me. The silence and stares seemed to last forever. I did not know what to say, so I just looked back at the two of them.
Silver, her eyes still on me, reached into the pocket of her gown and pulled out a small wooden instrument that resembled a flute. She softly blew it. It made a sound similar to that of a light wind blowing. Just then a large hawk appeared in the sky and dove towards us. My first reaction was to run. I started to stand, but Grandma patted my hand. I looked at her and at Silver who was sitting calmly on the ground, and I sat back down. Within a foot of me landed a brown-and-white bird of prey. Silver whispered in the hawk’s ear and then climbed on its back and away they flew. As I watched them disappear over the treetops, I heard Grandma softly say, “I guess we can call it quits on weeding today. Let’s go inside for some lemonade.”