by Jordan Baker
"Now you tell me!" He held on tight as leaves and twigs snapped around them and her wings beat the air, pushing them up and out of the trees, into the sky. A few moments later, they were soaring in the starlit sky out over the vast lake Mara, which was named after the goddess of the sea.
"Which way do we go?" Tash asked.
"That way," he pointed east. "And let's not fly over the city."
"All right," Tash said, and she turned around and headed for the southeast shore of the lake. "How do you know about the fighting circles?"
"I've been to a few," Jax said. "Placed a few bets."
"So you never fought in them?"
"I didn't say that, did I?"
"Then you did fight in the circles."
"I might have," Jax said.
"Why don't you answer questions properly?"
"It's an old habit I picked up from the Ansari."
"Now you're the one who is annoying."
"My humblest apologies, Tash," Jax said.
"I don't know if I like you or not," she said as she dipped one of her wings and turned sharply and heading to the east, away from the city.
"Well if you decide that you don't, please let me down gently," Jax said.
"Are you afraid of flying?" Tash asked, her raptor eyes squinting mischievously.
"If you want me to come to the desert with you, then you will fly in a smooth and proper manner," Jax said.
"That isn't any fun," Tash said.
"Neither is falling to one's death."
"Fine, I'll fly nice."
"That is very considerate of you."
"Is it far where we are going?" Tash asked.
"As the bird flies, or I suppose, the griffin in this case, it is not quite as far as I thought," Jax told her as he looked out over the land and recognized the terrain under the starlit sky. "It is still a ways yet."
"Then tell me about when you were at Ba'shan."
"Ba'shan was where I met the one and only woman I ever thought I could marry," Jax said wistfully.
"Really? Was she beautiful?"
"I thought so," Jax said.
"What happened?"
"She disappeared."
"Oh," Tash said. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay," Jax said. "I've never had much time for ladies anyhow."
"Is it because you're a thief and always on the run?"
"No," Jax said. "Though I suppose that would also make things difficult."
"What about the fighting circles?" Tash asked. "Did you win at Ba'shan, in the Palace of Warriors?"
"I didn't," Jax said. "I lost, rather badly I might add."
"So you aren't a champion, or anything like that."
"No, just a thief."
"You tell lies."
"I do not."
"You don't tell the truth."
"Not all of it, no. Why?"
"Never mind," Tash said. "I am going to concentrate on flying now, so I don't drop you to your death."
"All right, Tash," Jax replied as they passed over the flat countryside and into the eastern forests.
It was not long before they neared White Falls, and it was obvious, even in the dark that the city and its keep had been badly burned. With her raptor sight, Tash spotted several Darga sitting around a fire, burning on the stone of one of the towers and Jax agreed that they should keep their distance.
"Hopefully, everyone made it out," was all Jax managed to say about what they discovered, and Tash could tell that the thief was upset, even though he tried to hide it. "Let's go to the desert," he suggested. "There is nothing we can do here."
Tash flew up high, over the eastern mountain range that ran southward marking the border between the lands of Maramyr and Xalla and cutting into the northern part of the desert of Ansara. The night turned cold and Jax began to shiver in the thin air over the mountains, but he told Tash to carry on, and soon they were over the desert where the air was still warm from the heat of the day. Jax did not know how Tash was able to find her way over the seemingly expanse of sand, with one ridge looking almost identical to another, but she flew straight like an arrow to a camp by an oasis, out in the middle of nowhere. When they landed, there were several Ansari waiting to greet them, including Kasha, who Tash noticed no longer had a bump on her belly. Jax hopped down from Tash's back, then she transformed from griffin back to a girl, and when the thief walked forward into the glow of the fires, he recognized a few of the faces and he remembered one in particular.
"Jax Larian," Kasha said, her green eyes glinting in the firelight. "I did not expect to see you."
"Well, I do my best to be unexpected," Jax replied.
"You know each other?" Tash was surprised because of what Jax had said earlier.
"Of course," Kasha said. "He is my husband."
Tash's eyes nearly fell out of her head when she heard that, and she was even more confused by what Jax had to say.
"Three glorious days and nights!" Jax exclaimed, his tone dripping sarcasm, as he lost his customary calm. "A little roll in the tent, then you disappear, and you somehow think I am your husband? It figures you'd be Ansari. No one knows the Ansari. Well isn't that the truth!"
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Quenta staggered as he pulled his sword free from the Darga's neck, and he felt his arm burning where its acid blood had eaten through the leather that had covered his forearm. He tried to brush it away, and it only made the burning worse, but he was too exhausted to care. The Darga had continued attacking into the night, and it seemed that they were able to see very well in the darkness, even through the cover of the trees. The remaining groups of elven warriors had fallen back, using ambushes and manipulating the trees to try to trap the lizard creatures, but they were relentless and hacked their way through whatever barriers that were thrown in front of them. Quenta had not heard back from the warriors he had sent to warn the court and, at this point, he assumed they might already be dead. So many elves had been killed that he could barely think about it without wanting to scream, and the Darga kept coming, becoming more and more powerful as the elves became weaker and fewer in number.
In the dim light that filtered through the trees from the starlit sky above, Quenta held up the sword that he carried and the gemstones embedded in it glinted darkly at him. He knew that the weapon could offer him power, but he could not bring himself to take power from foul creatures like the Darga, no matter how tired he was. While his disgust for the lizard creatures was absolute, Quenta admitted to himself that he did feel grateful for the help of the Kandaran Prince and the other dragon warrior, Storm, who had both flouted the will of the court by venturing into the battle, though they continued to insist that they were merely hunting, which had become something of a point of humor between them. While Borrican and Storm were both capable warriors, the girl, Lexi was a creature unlike anything Quenta had ever seen before, a true hunter and more ruthless even than the Darga in the way she killed. Even with their help, the tide of Darga that flowed into the forest was still to great, and the soldiers that followed them were now proving a challenge, especially the ones who could be cut and continue fighting. The first line of elven defenders had long been overrun and had fallen back to join the second line, which had been supplemented by additional warriors that had arrived late, but even they were unable to stop some of the Darga from breaking through. Quenta felt as though it was the same thing that had happened in his first encounter when he and his guards had met the enemy at the edge of the forest, and he knew that the elves were losing the battle.
A cool night breeze roused him from his stupor and he realized that he did not know how long he had been standing next to the fallen Darga. In the corner of his eye, he saw something move and he turned, ready to fight, but instead of yet another lizard creature, Quenta saw the girl, Ehlena appear as though from the air itself. He still was not sure whether he believed she was a goddess, even though the trees were convinced and they whispered about her.
"Quenta," Ehlena said,
greeting him. "Your strength is flagging. Why do you not use the power of the godsword?"
"I do not want such a power," he said. "The trees will rejuvenate me, that is all I need."
"That is commendable, but perhaps a little foolish," she said. "The Darga grow more powerful, and some of them are changing so much that they are becoming what they once were."
"Dragons," Quenta said. "I thought it to be a mere story, but I have seen them change, and it appears that the more power they acquire, the more like dragons they become."
"And yet, you have dragons at your command," she said. "Why not let them fight as they are able?"
"If there is no other way, then I will consider it," Quenta replied. "They are already impressive fighters, but I cannot permit fire into the forest."
"You may have no choice," Ehlena told him. "The leader of the Darga, Prince Draxis has brought great quantities of poison gemstones to the forest. I tried to slow his return, but there are limits even to what I can do."
"They will use the poison gems again?" Quenta was exasperated at the thought of it. The only reason the elves had been able to resist the Darga as much as they had, is that the trees in this part of the forest still lived and the enemy had not darkened the forest with poison smoke.
"That is their plan," Ehlena said. "The poison will destroy the forest as surely as any fire, and the only way to destroy that poison is with fire."
"Then there is no choice," Quenta said. "The forest will be destroyed either way."
"There might be a way to keep your people safe," Ehlena suggested. "I believe there is one part of the forest that will not burn easily."
"That is true," Quenta said. "The red forest where the Maramyrians are under our protection, the trees there do not burn."
"Would such a place not be a more suitable battleground than the elven city?" Ehlena asked, and Quenta grudgingly considered the idea. It was the last place he wanted to go, a place where his father had been killed many years ago, and the place where Ariana had made her mark on the forest, which was something he had not particularly enjoyed at the time.
"We offered the Kandarans and the Maramyrians sanctuary," Quenta told her. "It would not do to turn the part of the forest where they are kept safe into a battleground."
"They have offered to fight," Ehlena said. "You may need their help if you are going to save the forest."
"What about the court?" Quenta asked. "What happened?"
"The court is now focused on defending the city and the forest," Ehlena told him. "More and more Darga are finding their way there, hungry to kill as many elves as they can."
"Is that truly their purpose, our complete destruction?" Quenta asked, and he flung the blood from his sword and shrugged his aching shoulders.
"It is the purpose of the one who commands them," Ehlena said. "The Darga merely crave power, to reclaim what they once were. They are not the true enemy."
"These Darga are very much the enemy of the forest," Quenta told her. "They care nothing for the trees, and it does not matter who commands them, for they kill with a determination that is nothing short of bloodlust. They are vicious creatures."
"Perhaps you are right," Ehlena said. "But you are fighting a defensive war, Quenta, and while you have won many battles, you are losing the war."
"And what do you suggest?" Quenta asked.
"Fall back and defend your people," Ehlena said. "Force the Darga and the army that follows them to pursue you to the red forest, then use every power at your disposal to stop them, then and there."
"And what of the forest?" Quenta asked. "You just told me they intend to poison the trees. We must stop them."
"I cannot fight every winged Darga," Ehlena told him. "There are too many of them, and my power is not suited to such purposes. How will you stop the poison, Quenta?"
"I do not know," he admitted.
"You cannot, but it can be stopped," Ehlena told him. "Lure the Darga to the red forest. Focus their attack, and focus your defense. If you do that, I can help you, and so can the others who have offered their strength."
Quenta nodded. "You seem like a child to me when I look at you, but your words ring with ancient power."
"At first blush, things are seldom what they appear to be," Ehlena told him, then she disappeared on the breeze.
*****
Draxis and the group of winged Darga he had taken to Maramyr had just arrived back at the elven forest after fighting powerful winds that had slowed their return. While they were eager to return to the battle and kill more elves, they were weary from carrying the heavy baskets of black gemstones such a distance, and through such challenging skies. While his Darga rested, Draxis found his way to Berant's command tent, arriving at the same time as a winged scout, one of many that tracked the movement of the elves, relaying information between Draxis and his many groups of Darga, and allowing Berant to temporarily coordinate the battle in his absence.
"What news of the elven forces?" Draxis asked the scout.
"They flee, Lord Draxis," the Darga replied. "Darga attack and the elves run away like cowards."
"They were not afraid to fight before," Draxis commented. "Something has changed."
"Perhaps they are in retreat. No doubt they will seek refuge in some stronghold," Berant commented, wondering if the elves were falling back to the fabled elven city. Its location still remained unknown, and thus far, none of the Darga scouts that had been sent to search for it had returned. While Berant had always wanted to see the city made of trees, which was reputed to be a beautiful and majestic place, he quietly hoped the army would not find it, for he knew what would happen to it if they did.
"Let them gather, and we will destroy them all at once," Draxis said. "We will cut off their escape with the dark stones and kill every last one of them."
"The scout Darga will be pleased, Lord Draxis," said the scout. "Other Darga now kill more elves and become stronger."
"The scouts have served me well, and as your reward, you will be among the first Darga to attack," Draxis told him, then he turned to Berant. "And you and your soldiers can deal with the mess on the ground.
"That is very thoughtful of you, Draxis," Berant said. "I suppose you will need the grey forces to fight where the poison smoke is the strongest."
"They will be useful in that regard, yes," Draxis said. "The Darga complain that the smoke weakens them."
"I am surprised it does not kill them outright," Berant said.
"The Darga are strong and resistant to many magics," Draxis said, then he clapped the scout on the shoulder. "Pass the word to the Darga to pursue the elves to wherever it is they have chosen to make their stand and then wait, for we will use the smoke again."
"Yes, Lord Draxis," the scout said, and he turned and left the tent.
"Do you think the elves will have some kind of fortifications?" Berant asked.
"It will matter little if they use their precious trees to build them," Draxis replied, then he stared at the general for a moment. "Perhaps you can finally be of some use, Berant. Since your grey soldiers, as you call them, are unaffected by the smoke, they can be the first wave to attack the elves."
"You wish to use them as fodder," Berant said, feigning irritation, for he still felt the strange tingling in his neck, and suspected that Calexis was listening. "The queen does not wish to see her loyal soldiers used carelessly."
"They are perfectly suited to this purpose," Draxis replied. "Otherwise, what good are they?"
"I concede that you have a point, Draxis," Berant conceded. "Have your winged scouts keep me informed of the movements of the elven forces and your Darga warriors, and we will follow."
"You will follow," Draxis said. "That is as it should be."
Berant forced himself to smile and nod his head as Draxis turned and left the command tent, and he felt the tingling in his neck subside. He rested his hand on the pommel of the blade at his hip and breathed a sigh of relief, for Draxis had provided him with the means to
rid the world of the accursed soldiers, and while he felt badly for the elves that would have to face them, he hoped that whatever defenses they might have in store would be singularly effective against them.
*****
Dawn broke with a red sky, an ominous sign of foul weather to come, but Ariana was amazed to see the red leaves of a new forest growing at the center of the vast clearing where nothing had grown since the forest had been burned so many years ago. Sitting next to her in the wheeled carriage, Laurana noticed her looking around at the many trees as they passed from the open clearing and entered the red forest, leading a procession of thousands of elves, who had evacuated from the elven city.
"I sent a number of elven artisans to help the forest grow," she said. "I thought it only fitting if we were to provide shelter for the people here."
"The forest is beautiful," Ariana said. "Although, I suppose I have become somewhat partial to the color red of late."
"The wood from these trees is also excellent for crafting," Laurana told her. "It isn't easy to work with, and the trees have only had a few small branches to spare, but the artisans say it can take fine detail and it is very strong. As you can see, we worked with the trees to create shelters for our many guests, and though they cannot speak with one another, the trees of the red forest have grown rather fond of the people here."
Ariana saw Kandarans emerging from homes that had been built in the thick roots of what were now very large trees, much like the ones that grew in the rest of the elven forest.
"Why are their homes in the roots?" she asked, and Laurana smiled at her question.
"The people here are not elves," she said. "They cannot travel from branch to branch as we do, and quite a number of them are apparently uncomfortable being any great distance from the ground."
"Of course, that makes sense," Ariana said. "I suppose I had forgotten such a simple thing as falling."
"If you are to be their queen, then you might remind yourself of those simple concerns from time to time," Laurana suggested.