The Mirror Sliver (Legends of Green Isle Book 2)

by Constance Wallace

  “Your mind needs to rest. Reflecting on so many possibilities is only creating more worry,” he responded.

  Adalay nodded. She felt at peace beside Nimi. His presence offered sanctuary from the cruelty of the world and the memories of her past. She had reluctantly complied with his request. But the strange episode with Idril and the wand bothered her. There was a nagging feeling that something was terribly wrong, and she couldn’t shake it.

  Noticing that she had fallen behind during her musing, she quickly left the memory of the previous night and caught up to the others. She fell into step behind Idril. Olifur was humming quietly as he followed her tracks in the snow. She glanced back at him. For some reason, the dog had felt it was his duty to be her guardian and protector. It made her smile slightly. “How did you become a healer?” she finally asked, trying to send her thoughts elsewhere.

  “It was by accident,” he replied. “And the story would probably bore you.”

  “What do you mean? A good story is never boring.”

  “All right, then. Here it is. The gift was to be presented to my master from the village wizard. But unfortunately, my master never had much poise. He slipped in mud just as the spell was cast and the ball of energy passed him and hit me square on the nose. I started talking, rather to the amazement of the townspeople. And then I healed my master’s head. It couldn’t be reversed, you know. Afterwards, they didn’t like me very much. My master was angry too, and drove me away. I ended up in the border town of Kille Cael, and Nimi found me half dead from hunger.”

  “I agree. It was fortunate he found you,” Adalay replied. “To die from starvation isn’t pleasant.”

  “I don’t like to consider the alternative had he not.”

  “Stop,” Nimi interrupted. He motioned for them to be quiet.

  Adalay could see the features of the elf’s face change as he and Idril looked at each other. She tried to feel what they did, but couldn’t get a grasp on what lurked beyond the perimeter of the nearby forest.

  “What is it?” she whispered. Nimi shook his head and remained silent.

  The group had emerged from the mountain trail into a vast plateau of evergreens. The snow still fell around them, blanketing the air with a thick greyish curtain. Adalay pulled her fur closer to her body. The higher they climbed the colder it got. Her breath hung in front of her as she stood still, waiting for Nimi’s commands.

  “We’re not alone,” the elf finally whispered.

  Olifur trotted to Nimi’s side. His ears moved back and forth as he sniffed the air. “Wulvers,” he informed them. “The beasts are nearby. Hmm. Didn’t think we’d see them this soon.”

  “What are those?” Idril asked.

  “Terrible things. Those who meet them don’t live to tell the story of their encounters,” Nimi replied. He motioned to the boy. “This would be a good time to test your magic wand.”

  Adalay watched as Idril carefully took the wood from its resting place. He held it forward. His gaze remained intent on the forest in front of them. Would he know how to make the magic? She quickly went over the spells that she could remember and pulled her crystal from the safety of her tunic. Cupping it, she warmed it with her palms.

  “Should we wait here or find shelter in the trees?” Idril questioned. He kept his voice low.

  “We walk slowly. Don’t go into the trees. They’ll try to separate us,” Nimi advised. He took a step forward. “Olifur. Keep alert. They’re near. I can sense them. Protect her.”

  Nimi pulled his bow from around his shoulders and fitted a large arrow into the strings. He pulled the line taunt as he advanced toward the tree line. Adalay felt the presence before she saw them. Their life force was strong and blunt. The energy hit her spirit with an unseen wall of anger and rage. Wulvers had long been a myth in Green Isle. Beasts of legend old men told stories about around the campfire. She remembered the first time her father told her about them.

  “Not many exist,” he had said one night while putting her to bed. He lifted the sleeve of his shirt and showed her a long and jagged scar that ran down the length of his arm. “Those that are left come from a long time ago, when there had been a great war on Green Isle. I battled one we cornered on the outskirts of the city. Had I not had my men with me, I wouldn’t be here today.”

  Adalay remembered running her finger along the crooked line. She was mesmerized by the scar. It had been a faint purple against his skin. “Did it hurt, Papa?” she had asked.

  “Not as much as losing your mother,” she remembered him saying. “I couldn’t protect her from it.”

  “Adalay, did you hear me?” Nimi’s voice drowned the memory.

  “What?”

  “When they break the cover of the trees, stay close to Idril. We must not become separated.”

  She nodded. Her thoughts had already focused on the boy. His actions showed her that he felt unsure of the power he held in his hand. She felt that he would be the one in most danger.

  “I’ll be okay,” he whispered, as if sensing her hesitation.

  A sound broke through the cold air. It was a short growl that conveyed discontent, followed by several howls. It was then that she saw the shadows in the trees move. Instinctively her hand came up. Her fingers tingled with energy. She had one spell that could dissipate the beasts into ash. This would be the one she would use. Her mind continued repeating the words. Slowly she began to form a ball of white light in her palms, as her whispered chant grew stronger.

  “Now!” Nimi commanded.

  The brush sprang to life with the movements of the Wulvers. Adalay saw the beasts break the tree line and race toward them. Her mind froze when she saw their massiveness and they emitted sharp, curdling yowls. The singing of Nimi’s bow brought her back from her fear and she quickly picked up the words of the spell. She thrust the energy at the one in the lead. It hit the monster in the chest and the Wulver vanished. But taking out one was not enough to stop the advancement of the others. Before Nimi could get another arrow off, they were overtaken.

  The beasts drove them apart. Separated, each ran in different directions. Adalay went toward the trees with Olifur close on her heels. She could hear the ragged breath of a Wulver behind her. What had Nimi said? We can’t be separated. Without a second thought, she stopped and turned. Her palm extended, she repeated the spell. Anticipating her, the creature dodged the release of the energy.

  “Run. Run! I’ll distract him,” the dog cried. Growling and yapping, he ran at the beast and buried his teeth into its heel.

  Howling in pain, the Wulver swiped at Olifur. Adalay saw the dog fly upwards into the air and then land a few yards from her with a hard thump. He yelped and then lie still. The small moment of distraction gave her enough time to conjure another ball of light and send it sailing at the beast. The Wulver disappeared into a pile of ash. Running to where Olifur lay on the ground, Adalay bent down. “Are you okay? Are you wounded?”

  “No. No,” he replied. “Just got the air knocked out of me.”

  “We’ve got to get back to help Nimi and Idril. If we get separated again, those things could make it very unpleasant for us.”

  Olifur rolled over and stood up. His tail lay limp against his back legs. “Oh dear.”

  “What is it?”

  “My lovely tail seems to have been wounded. I’ll have to heal it later.”

  The pair ran back to the open field. Emerging from the forest, Adalay saw Nimi bent over the fallen body of Idril. Several of the Wulvers lay about them with his arrows protruding from many areas of the bodies. Seeing Idril’s quiet form on the ground, she feared the worst. Adalay sprinted to her friends. “Is he dead?” she asked quickly when she reached them.

  “No.” Nimi laughed. “Just bumped around a bit by these.” He held up a small rodent by the tail.

  “What is that thing?” Adalay drew back from the dangling animal.

  “A mouse,” Idril responded as he sat up and pushed three others from his chest. “It was al
l I could think of.”

  “All you could think of?” Adalay’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

  “I believe I’ve figured out how the wand works.” He brushed the last mouse from his boot. “It gives you your heart’s desire. Although I don’t think wanting to kill anything is allowed. It wouldn’t let me take the lives of the Wulvers. So, the next best thing I could do was to make something very large into something very small.”

  “Giving you your heart’s desire? That could be something undesirable. Especially in the wrong hands,” she replied, shaking her head.

  “The wand’s protected from those wishes. Beside the voices I hear in my head? They tell me what I need to do. In some respect, they limit its power. They’re its guardians, in some sort of fashion.”

  “And yours.” Nimi rose and held out his hand to Idril.

  Adalay drew a small breath as she watched Idril place the wand back into the box. Her heart’s desire would be to do away with Uthal. But if the wand won’t allow its wielder to harm another, then what were they going to do about getting rid of the Black Warlock? This was certainly going to be a predicament.

  “You look lost right now.” Nimi touched her arm.

  “Just thinking about our adventure so far. How many of the Wulvers did we get?” She wanted to change the subject.

  “Counting the two you took with your spell and the three I downed with my arrows, the four turned in mice by the boy, I would say…nine. One escaped and went back into the forest. I’m sure it’s heading to Crag Cairn.”

  “Then we better beat him there,” she replied. “Otherwise they’ll be waiting for us and our plan to enter the fortress undetected might need to be rethought.” Her words were harsher than she wanted, but the smile the elf held irritated her for some reason. The thought of Urcias surfaced momentarily. She remembered his face that day in the library, so stern and unflinching. Even with emotions swimming in the depths of his eyes, the captain remained detached. She wanted to be like that. Removed from feeling. Especially when she mourned inwardly for a love she would never have.

  The situation with Idril and the wand weren’t working out. Not as she had hoped. If she couldn’t use the wand, then she would have to find another way to destroy the witch and her master. Everything seemed to be unraveling around her.

  “We’ll get in. I promise,” Nimi assured her softly. His smile disappeared and was replaced by a frown. “Don’t you have faith in me?”

  “I’m sorry. I’m perplexed by the wand and Idril. How we will accomplish our task?”

  Idril patted his chest. “I’ve got the wand. Now that I’ve figured it out—somewhat—if I can’t end Uthal’s life, then I can try something else.”

  Adalay nodded slightly. The boy seemed to be following her thoughts. “Maybe we can formulate some sort of plan before we get there. Perhaps those who guard the wand will speak to you about what you can do with it. Find an alternative for getting at Uthal.”

  “I can help, if needed,” Olifur said. “As soon as my tail is back to normal. Shouldn’t take long to heal it.”

  “You may be assisting more than you want,” Nimi said to his canine friend. “It could become very dangerous.”

  “You saved me from death, archer. I’m indebted to you. I go where you go.”

  “Let’s not think about death and dying. Let’s concentrate on success and living.” Adalay petted Olifur’s head. “Sorry about your tail.”

  “Well-spoken, my lady.” Nimi bowed and kissed Adalay’s hand. When he stood up, he held it a little longer than necessary. She saw the look in his eyes and it made her take a deeper breath than she wanted. When he released her fingers, he smiled oddly.

  Adalay followed him as he led them toward the forest. She contemplated the elf and decided that she needed to build a wall around her heart. It was too soon to let go of her captain and she didn’t want this border elf wedging himself into her emotions. Her duty as Queen came first. Even in matters of the heart.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  The cold of Black Isle was more than miserable. It drew out any warmth and left all those who traveled on it subject to the taste of death. Ceridwyn felt the burden of her obligation with each step her horse took across the snowy tundra. The silk cord that bound the prize she had so maliciously taken rubbed her thigh as a constant reminder of her father’s wishes and her dreadful sin at Half Moon Lake. Her surroundings only added to her moodiness.

  “There’s the fortress,” she heard Dimetre say. He pointed to the mountain range ahead of them.

  “It’s about time. I feel like ice. I hate this forsaken place.” Ceridwyn gazed at the ancient features of Crag Cairn. The haggard remains of the once mighty keep lay like a rotting piece of flesh. Its stone and marble seemed flayed and shattered on the high valley plain. Its center, still clinging to life, rose above the many broken towers with only a haunting hint to its magnificence in a time past. Soon, in many more years, it would return to nature, claimed again by the spirit of Morrigana, and then it would die the death it needed to.

  Stopping her horse beside her escort, she grimaced. “I’m not relishing this meeting today with Bera. Why did that demon, Uthal, request I deliver this horn in person? And why did my father agree to it? It doesn’t make sense to me.”

  “If I could guess, I think Uthal did it to make your father sweat a little. And I can’t give any opinion to your father’s reasoning. Although I had doubts about it, I’ve learned to follow orders without question. Seen what he likes to do to those who contradict him.” Dimetre bent closer to her. “In my mind, I’m sure the request was made as a token of allegiance.”

  Ceridwyn glared at Dimetre. “Are you suggesting my father bows to this thing? He’s never bowed to anyone. His cruelty is unmeasurable. Even to Uthal.”

  “Little one, you have a lot to learn.” He leaned back in the saddle. “Everyone and everything bows to Uthal. You need to remember that.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not bowing to him. I don’t care what my father thinks about it.”

  “Regardless of your ethics, you need to remember whose clan you’re representing to them.” Dimetre patted his chest. “I’ve got the contract your father sent. Once the witch and the warlock sign the enchanted parchment, the spell binds them to Murias Donn forever. Exchange the horn for the signatures and we’re finished. We can return to your father’s land as soon as the winds allow.”

  “There’s something in the back of my mind that makes me feel this task isn’t going to be that simple. There’s always hidden agendas. And I’ve learned long ago that my father’s the master of them.”

  “Whatever do you mean?” Dimetre cocked his head. His mouth slid into a slight smirk. “Ah. So, you’ve been paying attention, then?”

  Ceridwyn gently nudged her mare, urging her forward. “Call it what you may, but my gut instinct says his request that I personally deliver the unicorn’s horn didn’t come without specific planning.”

  “Perhaps you’re imagining too much.”

  Rolling her eyes, she nudged the horse into a small trot and was soon in front of the group. She led Dimetre and the four others she brought with her along the ancient road that snaked through the desolate plain to the fortress gate. When they drew closer, those on the walls signaled to others below. The large iron chains that bound the heavy plank doors to Crag Cairn begin to clank and move. Chunks of ice fell at their feet as the gate opened, exposing the interior.

  The princess was careful as their horses entered the high walls. She still felt uneasy and the feelings were intensifying. She motioned for the others to dismount. Beside those who were on the walls, no one else appeared to greet them. How odd is this? Her eyes darted in quick contemplation of the empty courtyard.

  “Do you find it strange no one’s greeted us?” she asked her companion.

  “Your father has taught you well. I’m sure the witch has her reasoning for not making her appearance.”

  “Besid
es rudeness? What else would it be?”

  “Perhaps she is preparing for our arrival. There’s not much life on this forsaken island, so I could assume that she’s assured of your safety.” Dimetre slid off his saddle and regarded the crumbling fortress walls.

  Removing the riding gloves from her frozen fingers, Ceridwyn gathered the witch’s package from around the saddle horn. “We’re the last druid clan. There’s respect that comes with that. Not showing up to formally greet us speaks of disrespect. It will be mentioned to my father.” Glancing upwards, she noticed black birds sitting on top of several of the towers. They squawked and screeched in irritation. “I hate those things,” she said under her breath.

  Dimetre chuckled. “They’re only ravens. What harm could come from them?”

  “It’s what they represent. Dark little messengers of Uthal always bringing a summons. Or reporting to their master the deeds he should know nothing of. They’re the prying eyes that can’t be lost. Or trusted.”

  “I guess if you look at it that way, then they’re a nuisance.”

  Ceridwyn narrowed her eyes at the man. She was never certain about her escort and exactly where he tied his allegiance. Before she could utter the question that started to manifest itself in her mind, the large door at the top of the stairs in front of them jerked open. A Fir Darrig, one of the witch’s rat men, scampered down the stone steps and motioned for her to follow him.

  Saved this time. She glanced back at Dimetre. “Tell your men to see to the horses. I’ll be back soon.”

  “I’ve got the contract. Shouldn’t I come with you?”

  Ceridwyn turned abruptly and held out her hand. “It was charged to me to personally bring both to Uthal. Stay here.”

  The man hesitated before he reached into his breast pocket and reluctantly handed her the parchment with her father’s seal on it. She could tell her words angered him, but he knew not to cross her if he valued his soul.