The young man watched the archer. He couldn’t see much of his face, the hood of his cloak obscuring it. Yet, he could feel the tension.
“It means much. Those in Crag Cairn are preparing.”
“Seals were playing in the surf, too. Does that have any meaning?”
“Yes and no. They’re Selkies. Guardians of travelers on the sea. Always close to ships and sailors. Seems like a morning for washed up bodies.” The archer pointed to a heap of furs to his side. “Found this one floating face down in the surf.”
“What’s that?” The dog sniffed the tips of feet protruding from the shelter of the skins. “Do I need to help?”
“No. Although she was almost half dead.”
“A she?”
“Yes. A human woman. Just like this human boy.” The archer pushed back his hood, exposing his elfish complexion. “Perhaps they’re from the same shipwreck.”
“You're an elf?” the young man said.
“Ah. Yes. A plausible explanation. Do you know what ship you came from?” The dog came over to him.
“I don't know. I don't remember anything before today. Everything feels new to me.”
“Interesting. You have the dress of the royal elves. But you’re human. Did Queen Erulisse send you? Perhaps she ordered you here to help us.” The archer added another branch to the fire.
The young man felt the box in his tunic. Could it be an answer to his possession of the wand? Yes, this sounded right. Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more. “Maybe,” he responded reluctantly.
“He has a wand, archer. A very old relic from the Fomorians,” the dog said. “I bet he was sent here to help and the witch got to them first.”
“A Fomorian wand?”
The young man pulled the box from his tunic and opened it, showing the elf the ornate wand. “I don’t know why I’ve got this. But it seems very odd that I would be hiding it in my tunic.”
“Maybe you knew you were going into danger and needed to keep it safe. It is an old artifact from a time long past.” The dog sniffed at the box.
“Ollie is right. That’s a very ancient piece,” the archer stated. He took the wand from the box. “You don’t remember how you came by this?” he asked before placing the wooden relic back into its resting place.
“I wish I knew. I can’t remember anything. Especially who I am.”
“Then I’ll chose to believe your magic was sent to help us. You must’ve been given to us by Queen Erulisse as we begin our mission against the Black Warlock, Uthal.”
At the mention of the name, cobwebs within his mind gave way to faded voices and scenes. They twisted together in a whirl of light. He had been on a ship when someone handed him the box. This name, Uthal, brought forth urgent feelings. He should be protecting someone. Someone who was very close to him. Yet, as quickly as he glimpsed the memory, it folded in on itself and sunk once more into oblivion. “I can't remember anything.” He sighed. “Except that someone on a ship gave me this box.”
The archer rose and picked up one of the furs. He placed it around the young man’s shoulders and helped him remove his soaked leather tunic. “It’s all right not to know. You’ve been to the land of shadows and beyond. Ollie’s magic is strong. It’ll help bring back those memories. Your destiny seems to be with this island. Otherwise the Selkies wouldn’t have rescued you. If you can’t remember, then it’s because you aren’t to remember. At least not right now.”
Taking the wet tunic, the archer shook it and placed it by the fire. When he adjusted it on a rock to get it closer to the fire, a small parcel fell onto the ground. “What’s this?” He picked up the small item and held it out for inspection.
“I don’t know.” Taking the bundle from the archer’s outstretched hand, the young man unfolded the soft cloth tied around the object. Once open, a small crimson stone sparkled in the fire light. “It’s a rock,” he muttered.
The archer took the stone and studied it for a moment. After a second, his brow furrowed. “You’re in possession of an Elf Blood Stone. This is rare and given only to those whose destiny lie with that of Green Isle as a guardian and protector of its residents. This is very important. Do you remember anything of why you’re here on Black Isle? This Blood Stone is one of few that have been told of in legends. To have this is a great honor.”
He shook his head as he accepted the treasure from the archer. “I can’t even remember who I am. How could I even remember how I got this?”
“You carry items of great power with you. Yet you can’t recall why you have them. This is very strange indeed.”
“He was dead, archer. Maybe longer than I guessed,” Ollie offered. “His soul must’ve walked in great length with the spirits. And that journey left all prior memory on the other side.”
Poking at the fire, the elf grew quiet. “Try to remember,” he finally said.
Closing his eyes, the young man sought inwardly. He focused and tried to stir the waters of memory. But nothing came except blackness and cold. He opened his eyes. “There’s nothing. I’m afraid I’m not going to be much help.”
“Where am I?” a feminine voice called out. The distraction made him feel relief for a moment, as attention now focused on the mass of blond hair that emerged from the mound of furs. The disheveled woman looked at him and then the others with grey eyes. She squinted in confusion. “Where you on the vessel from Nuada Findi?” Combing the stray strands of curls away from her face with her slender fingers, she took a deep breath. “Who should I thank for my rescue?” she asked.
The archer rose and bowed. “At your service, my lady. I’m Nimihel Gysseathan, Nimi for short. I’m an archer from Kille Cael. And this is my healer, Olifur.”
Ollie hurried to the woman’s side. “But you can call me Ollie.” The dog seemed taken with her.
“I’m on Black Isle?”
“Yes. Did you expect to be somewhere else?” Nimi asked in slight amusement.
The woman shook her head. “No. I’m right where I need to be.”
Rising from the comfort of the fire, the young man regarded the woman with curiosity. “Do you know who you are?” he asked.
The woman didn’t reply right away. Pushing the furs away from her body, she shivered as she moved to face the flames. Standing next to him, she smiled slightly, “That’s an odd question. Yes. I know who I am. I’m Adalay. Why did you ask such a strange thing?”
“I found him this morning, dead on the beach,” Ollie explained.
“I just don’t remember who I am,” he stated. “I’m wondering if it’s me or if it happened to others found floating in the surf this morning.”
“Perhaps he was traveling with you?” Nimi inquired.
“I’m not sure. I don’t know who was housed in the passenger quarters aboard our ship.”
“So, there was a wreck, then.”
“We were attacked by a black Sea Wurm. It broke our vessel apart. I managed to get several horses from below to safety before I was knocked out. I don’t recall how I made it to shore, though. I have a vague memory of barking and whiskers.”
“There were seals playing in the waves this morning. Selkies,” Ollie murmured. “They rescued you both.”
“They’re kind and will help humans overtaken by the sea,” Nimi stated.
“That’s how the lad came to be in the surf this morning. And she told me that he had been in the shadows long enough.” Ollie stretched out by the fire. “A rather large one seemed to stand in wait while I was healing the boy. Selkies can be annoying at times.”
“And then you chased it away. I told you I didn’t think it was a good idea to do that,” the young man said. He knelt back to the fire’s warmth. “Who is this ‘she’ you keep referring to, anyways? How did she know about me?”
“She knows about everything,” the dog replied. “She’s an ancient spirit.”
“I’m inclined to believe the Selkies aided both of you. You must extend your gratitude the next time we see them,”
Nimi instructed. He offered Adalay a drink of water.
“You don’t remember your name?” Adalay asked after swallowing some of the liquid.
“No. There’s nothing but blackness before this morning.”
The archer scratched his chin for a moment. “We certainly can’t disallow you an identity. I’ll give you an elfin name. Just until we know who you are. Idril Amras. It means ‘one who wields magic.’ This is appropriate since you carry two great powers with you.”
Adalay turned to look at the archer. “What magic does he carry?” she inquired.
“He has in his possession an ancient wand and an Elf Blood Stone. But he doesn’t know how he came about acquiring them.”
“The Blood Stones are rare. Only seen at the portal entrances from Earth. For you to have one must mean you are either from Earth or a guardian of a portal,” Adalay stated.
“He can’t be from Earth. He was here. Dead. So, he must be a guardian,” Ollie said.
“There’s something odd about it. I don’t believe he’s from Green Isle or Nuada Findi.” Adalay pulled a fur from the pile on the ground and wrapped it around her shoulders.
Idril shook his head. “This place, Earth. It doesn’t seem too familiar.” He studied the flames of the fire, his thoughts turning to the name the elf placed upon him and away from the conversation. Idril is a good name. It felt right, like it belonged to him. He listened to the others talk about him and the articles he carried. Huddled close to the flames, it was easy to shut out the world for a moment. Perhaps the dog was right. Perhaps he was now re-born to this world. But was this place, this world, where he belonged?
The brief memories from earlier stayed with him. He didn’t want to tell the others what he had seen. Not yet at least. Not until he could figure out what happened to him and who he was. Why had he been dead? Something deep within his spirit told his mind that he had drowned and his body had washed up on shore. Or was placed there, he corrected himself. He glanced at the dying embers of the elf’s fire. His heart felt cold. There was something or someone missing, and it bothered him that he didn’t know who or what it was.
For the rest of the night, Idril remained quiet. He contemplated his sudden existence as he listened to the soft snores of the dog. He felt a connection to the land, but he didn’t know why. Until he could find an answer, he would have to follow the elf and the dog, for they were the only ones who seemed to know about the articles he carried. Perhaps they could help him discover his past as well. Sighing, he closed his eyes. The blond girl was the last thing he thought of before falling to sleep.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Miranda winced in pain. Not for herself but for her friend. No matter what she did, she couldn’t stop the trickle of blood from Lug’s arm. The red liquid oozed freely into his sleeve. She tore fabric from her own wool cloak and carefully dressed his forearm. The white of the material soaked up the red quickly. “How does that feel?” she finally asked. “Is it too tight?” She retied the ends of the material over the deep gash.
“I think I’ll be all right,” he replied. He clamped his hand over the bandage. He regarded her with a tight grin that she knew was forced. “It will be all right,” he said again. “You did what you could.”
“I know. But you got this from helping me. I’m just not a good nurse and all.”
“You did fine. Your touch is gentle.”
Miranda saw his attempt to hide his pain and grimaced herself. Staring at the wound, frustration wrapped around her soul. Her heart ached from the loss of Matt. His disappearance left a great emptiness inside her. Now she felt even more helpless since she couldn’t do more for Lug and his injury. She saw him glance at her and could feel his emotions for her. She knew that certain feelings were beginning to surface in herself also. It was different than what she had for Matt and this scared her. It was a deepness that welled from the innermost part of her being and took hold of her. Especially when he looked at her.
Trying to take her mind from the direction it was heading, she looked at the others spread across the dark shores of Black Isle. They all were weary. It was all she could do not to weep. She tilted her face upwards and refused to allow the water to escape from her blue eyes. This burden of the sword was heavy. There should be a show of bravery from her since she was the champion, and yet, tears still wanted to come.
“You’re allowed to cry.”
“What?” She lowered her head quickly and regarded Lug. “What are ya talkin’ about?”
“I feel you. I know you’re in anguish for the others, and myself. You can cry if you want to. I won’t tell them.”
Miranda bit her lip and then felt the hot rush of tears as they traveled down her cheeks. Lug pulled her close to him and she felt the security of his arms.
“I know I’m supposed to be the sword bearer, but I can’t seem to understand how to protect anybody.” She laid her forehead against his chest. “And if I’m so doubtful now, will I even be able to stand up to Uthal?”
“We’re going in the same direction with you. Remember that. I’ll never leave your side. If you need me, I’ll be there.”
“Thank you. I needed to hear that and all. You know, I’ve been trying to find the connection I felt with Matt the day after he disappeared and it’s not there anymore. It’s been really bothering me along with everythin’ else. Something’s changed.” Fresh new tears found their escape at the thought that Matt had perished.
“What kind of connection did you have? I know you said that you could feel him and that he was here. Do you not feel his presence on the island?”
“No and yes. And that’s what’s scaring me and all. It’s him and then not him. And I don’t wanna tell the others. Knowing he’s here. Or out there. That’s what’s kept us goin’, you know.”
“I don’t know what to say. I’m sure there’s a reason you don’t have a connection with him but I’m not sure what it is. Probably the most important thing for us to do right now is find shelter. You should tell the others that. Doing something constructive will take your mind off your worry.”
Miranda nodded. Their approach to the island hadn’t gone unnoticed and she understood what he was referencing. Worse than the Slaugh, they had been attacked by a large black water dragon. It snapped the hull of their vessel like the dry branch of a tree, sending them all overboard into the swells of the ocean. It was lucky that they had been near the shore. But now they were shipwrecked on the island. Exposed to whatever may be hunting them.
She walked over to Keltrain, who was wringing moisture from his tunic. He regarded her through his fogged glasses. “We’re now thrust on this place with no way in which to return to Green Isle,” he said. “I’m very sorry. I feel as if I’ve let you down. I’ll have to meditate on the situation for a while to find a solution to our return home. Perhaps the captain and his men managed to avoid the Wurm and their ship is intact.” Miranda could see an inner struggle in the wizard.
“We’ll find a way. I know we will.” She didn’t know what else to say. Keltrain blamed himself for Matt and for their shipwreck, and she wanted him to know, to understand, that he had no way of controlling their destiny.
Keltrain’s face contorted when he stepped out on his left foot. “I think I may have injured myself.” He bent down and examined his leg. There was a dark stain at his knee.
“I could bandage it for you,” she offered. “I helped Lug and all with his.”
“No. No. I’ll take care of it. You should take care of yours.” He pointed to her head.
She reached up and touched the cold liquid in her hair line. It hadn’t hurt until she thought about it. The pain of her friends had been foremost in her thoughts. “It’s just a small cut.”
“At least wash it. Once we get a fire going, we can look one another over and do some damage management.”
A grunt caught her ear and she turned to see DaGon struggling with pieces of timber tumbling in the cold waves of the sea. He worked steadily to arrange them i
nto a leaning shelter, away from the waves and wetness. The makeshift lodging was under the cover of the scrubby pine trees on the small hill behind them and offered some sanctuary from the ocean wind. “We should help DaGon. Lug said we needed to get into some kind of shelter.”
“I agree. Why don’t you get the others to help gather wood so we can make a fire? We need warmth. See if DaGon needs any assistance, too.”
Miranda nodded and made her way to the dragon. “What can I do to help?” she asked him as he gathered pieces of driftwood.
“I think it would be good for you to help those with wounds. I’ve got the shelter and fire in place.” DaGon sucked in a deep breath and bellowed. The small sticks he had bundled together caught flame.
“Okay.” Miranda sighed. She felt like she had been no help at all. She slowly made her way back to Lug.
“Our plan didn’t go as I expected,” the wizard murmured to the dragon. “I’m glad you were able to get us to shore in one piece. Before we lost another of our circle.”
“I should’ve been able to save Matt,” DaGon whispered. “I’ve thought about it for several days now. I could’ve protected him better.”
“There was nothing you could do, my friend. We have the sword’s champion, and at this moment, for the sake of our world and Earth, she’s what we must protect.”
Miranda listened to their words. It made the wound in her heart even more pronounced. She glanced at Lug. He had been present at her side ever since Matt disappeared over the side of the ship. It was because of her that he had become injured. When the water dragon tore at the ship, Miranda returned below to gather the unconscious cat, Sonya. She was unwilling to leave her to drown. Navigating the incoming water, she struggled to reach the feline as the timbers began to cave in on top of them. Lug’s quick thinking saved her from the collapsing cabin. But his actions also put himself in danger. His arm was a testament to his bravery. And his feelings for her.
What were these emotions that were suddenly surfacing? She felt somehow connected to him but couldn’t explain it to herself. His eyes. Yes, it was his eyes. She had seen them before. Many times. But where? Her mind raced, trying to expose the place that held the recognition of Lug’s eyes. And then it came to her. She had seen them in her dreams. Had she dreamt of him before? The thought was too wild. She shook her head. No. It couldn’t have been in her dreams.
The Mirror Sliver (Legends of Green Isle Book 2) Page 6