by M. H. Bonham
“Why did she leave?” I slowly sat down and drank some water out of my canteen. It was getting low. I shook it and heard a small amount slosh.
“I wouldn’t have left.” Tuzren crossed his arms and flew up into the tree like some demonic gargoyle perched above us as a sentry.
Li’alla sat beside me. “Humans began to hate the Fae and blame us for all their maladies. While it’s true the Elves had Elfshot, most didn’t use it because the world was so volatile. The blue sickness had taken a huge portion of medieval Europe’s population and humans blamed us for it. They said we were in league with the Christian devil and called us demons.” She shook her head. “I remember those times. They were frightening.”
I took a sharp inward breath. The blue sickness was the name people called the Black Death during medieval times. “You were alive during the Black Death?”
She smiled sadly. “Yes, and I remember when my human friends died of it, refusing to take the medicine I brought because the parish priest told them it was poison and I was an agent of Satan.”
“Well, that was stupid.” Tuzren remarked from the tree. I glanced up and shook my head. He smiled in embarrassment. “Hey, I’m going to go scout ahead and see if I can find a better route there. You’re really limited creatures.” With that, he flitted off, leaving us both alone.
We fell silent and I stared wistfully at the stars, wishing I was anywhere but here. I thought about Luna and how much I missed her cheerful smile. I thought about Elryn and Duncan and hoped to the gods they were okay. I wondered if we could prevent this plague from reaching Earth. Unlike the plague from medieval times, this plague would kill not only humans but Light Elves as well. I turned to her. “Why do Light Elves hate your kind so much?”
Li’alla shook her head. “An age-old dispute that few remember. The Dark Elves lived in Alfheim and were the smiths of the Light Elves. The Sunnies, even then, treated us as inferiors, demanding that we make them their bronze weapons. The Sunnies treated us like slaves, even though we weren’t. All that changed when the Dark Elves discovered cold iron and adamantine.”
The wind picked up and I shivered as a cold breeze cut through my spell. Despite the lava channels, the air had grown cold as the suns set, making me wonder how anyone could stand this place. They can’t, said a little voice inside me. That’s why they are trying to take over Earth.
Li’alla nodded, thinking my shiver had to do with her story. “When our ancestors discovered that cold iron could harm Light Elves like nothing else and adamantine was deadly to all Fae, they made it a mission to destroy their Fae overlords. There was a great war where even the gods were involved. The gods eventually gave us our world, Svartalfheim to keep our kind separated. We have lived here and in Midgard in relative peace until the Cataclysm.”
“And the Light Elves don’t forget your rebellion.”
“No.” She picked at the tree’s root that sat next to us with a finger. “They hate us and consider us inferior. They didn’t like it when their slaves got uppity.”
I took a breath. “But they didn’t treat humans like slaves.”
She looked askance. “But they were mercurial, yes? Your myths and legends have stories about how the Elves treated humans—stealing their children and making them slaves…”
“But I’ve met a Dark Elf changeling human from Vindar’s clan.”
She shrugged. “We do that, too. At least the warlords who think they have something to gain from it. Changeling humans are common among the Fae, but it doesn’t make it right. I would never trade Li’arn and Naran for a human child.”
“Why do Elves do that?”
“Most of the time, it’s done when the child has significant flaws that makes them unviable. We’re an ancient race and our genetics aren’t as strong as they used to be. Still, some Elves send their children to the mortals in disguise. After a few years, the child turns up missing, when in fact, they’ve returned home. The Elves then have both their children and a changeling human as a slave.”
“That’s barbaric.” I stared at her.
“Yes, it is.” She fell silent.
I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “You better get some rest. I’ll take the first watch. I’ll wake you in four hours.”
Li’alla nodded, curling into a ball beside me. She whispered a warming spell and closed her eyes. As she did, I sat quietly and looked around. Despite being nighttime, the entire landscape glowed red from the lava flowing around us. Nor was it particularly quiet as I heard the groans, snaps, and cracks from the lava as it cut new channels in the earth. It was an eerie sound, as if the world, itself, was shuddering under the fissures.
I spent the first hour getting used to my surroundings. This was both an awe-inspiring and deadly world. It reminded me how insignificant we humans really are. As I watched, I kept hearing groans and cracks as the lava tore through parts of the fissures, making this even more of a maze than it already was. I wished that the dragons would’ve left us at the entrance rather than on this deadly and dangerous plateau.
I sat beneath the tree and thought about what Nana had said to me concerning Fae magic. That my Fae magic came from my heart and not my head. I thought about how magic felt to me and how Fae magic felt so foreign. And yet, when Nana took my hands and spoke the words to change my looks, it hadn’t felt that strange.
Maybe because I was in Svartalfheim? Or, at least, what was left of it? I closed my eyes and tried to recall the words. I was usually very good at repeating spells I had learned—most magic users can repeat what they hear or read by their very nature—but the Elvish was too foreign to me. I shook my head. As exciting as it was to think that I had some innate ability to cast Fae spells, I doubted seriously I would become a Fae spell slinger overnight.
Instead, I decided to pull out the grimoire and cast a small mage light over it so I could read it. Other than getting a few spells out of it, I really hadn’t the chance to go through it. I turned to the first page and looked at it. Like all the pages in this book, it was worn parchment, yellow with darkened, frayed edges. The first page simply said Grimoire, written in an embellished, cursive hand like something written in the 17th or 18th centuries. The oddness was not lost on me.
A Norse goddess and Valkyrie had handed me a grimoire written in English by someone in the 17th century. The time warping alone was enough to make my head hurt. The Norse didn’t have books, let alone grimoires until after the Viking age, let alone written in English. Eir must have gotten the grimoire sometime after the Viking age, or had someone transcribe spells in it who wrote like someone in the 17th century.
Okay, then.
I flipped past that page and looked at the first chapter. It said Battle Magick. I flipped through it, taking note and memorizing each interesting spell. Sure, there was a fireball spell, but Smog the dragon had taught me that already. There was a shield spell too, but I was proficient casting one of those. It was the lightning spells, the elemental spells, and control spells which caught my attention. Many of them allowed the wizard to harness whatever elements were on hand and use them as weapons or defense.
I must have been more tired than I thought, because as I continued to read, my head started to nod and soon I was dreaming about casting those spells.
I guess I was truly asleep for about five minutes when an earthquake shook me awake. It shook Li’alla awake too. I was on my feet, book still in my hands when a deafening roar pieced my eardrums.
Something red hot and flaming crawled out of the nearest fissure.
Chapter Twenty
“Oh shit! Li’alla we better get out of here.” I backed up toward the tree, unsure of what I saw. The creature looked like burning rocks, or maybe something else with yellow-white eyes and flames for its hair, face, body, and limbs. It looked vaguely humanoid, but I could see nothing other than flames.
Li’alla jumped to her feet. “Fire elementals. Someone has conjured them.”
Fire elementals? I had heard of such creatur
es even on Earth, but they required a serious summoner and not someone Vindar’s caliber. Vindar had magic, but after watching him cast, I knew he was only a second-rate wizard. Unless Vindar had suddenly acquired a whole lot of power, I could almost bet that while Vindar ordered it, it wasn’t his doing. He had to have a mage, similar to Winfrith Bailey, who could summon elementals.
Elementals were just that: creatures constructed from one of the four magical elements: earth, water, wind, or fire. Yeah, I know that in scientific terms, none of those are really elements. But magically speaking—because, let’s face it, we’re dealing with magic here—those four elements are the primary elements that magic uses, unlike actual physics. Everything is composed of a combination of those elements as far as magic is concerned.
Elementals are not natural constructs. Which means they don’t exist in the wild. Someone has to create them and give them sentience. Usually that sentience is part of the caster’s intellect, which means that elementals are pretty stupid. Giving away a piece of your awareness and initiative leaves you that much dumber. In other words, you take away a bit of your intelligence with each elemental. Constructing several elementals at a time meant you lost a whole bunch of intellect that you might not get back, if someone destroyed the elemental. You could end up with serious brain damage. That’s why I never bothered to learn how to summon one. Oh sure, I had Basic Elemental Summoning in college, but when it came time to casting one, I chickened out and opted on writing a paper about it instead and took the hit to my grades. I chose a C- over an A because I refused to cast something that stupid. I don’t even remember the incantation to summon one, although I remember how to set up a circle to bind one. That, by the way, takes a lot of time and preparation. Something I didn’t have right now.
I flipped through the grimoire, hoping it had something that could combat the elemental, but Li’alla slapped my hand, almost making me drop the book. “Oww! I’m trying to find a spell.” I shouted maybe a little too loudly because the elemental doubled its speed towards us.
“No time!” Li’alla grabbed my hand and we ran, leaving our packs and gear behind. All I had was the book and the weapons on me.
The elemental raced towards us like a wildfire in the wind. If you’ve ever tried to outrun a forest fire, you know just how impossible that is on foot. The elemental made it to our tree and burned everything. Some of the explosives lit off, shaking the ground, but had no effect on the elemental. It followed us, almost on our heels.
“Any Dark Elf spells you can use on this?” I shouted. I was relying on her night vision to see the crevasses where the lava had cut. One wrong step and we’d be toast. Literally.
Li’alla didn’t deign a response. I suspected that even though she had magic and could do spells, this was clearly out of her league—and out of mine. I knew water could end a fire elemental, but there wasn’t any water above ground, except perhaps in the lava, but it would be an exceedingly small amount.
But I could call up wind. I hate to admit it, but yeah, I had memorized the spell from Wizardry Today several months ago. I searched my brain for the Latin words and put as much will and intent into it, drawing wind from around us. “Ecce ventus turbinis!” I pointed at the elemental.
And they say Latin is a dead language. Ha!
What I ended up calling down was a microburst that slammed into the fire elemental and flatten us on the ground. The microburst hit the elemental, effectively extinguishing it as though someone had blown it out like a match.
For a brief second, I cheered between panting. “Got you, bastard!” I felt weak from the power drain but incredibly relieved that I got rid of the elemental.
Until the second one showed up.
Then, the third.
Then, the fourth, and the…well, you get the idea.
Li’alla pulled me to my feet and I staggered forward. Who in the hell summoned an army of fire elementals? They’d have to be blithering idiots—literally. Unless the Drow used multiple mages. In which case, we were totally screwed. I had a good shield, but I was certain it wouldn’t hold up against a fire elemental pounding against it, let alone a dozen or so of these creatures. I wasn’t into last stands because my name sure wasn’t Custer, and I knew that running would just make me die tired. So, I gathered what magic I had and opened a Gateway in front of us that would hopefully get us to the cavern’s entrance. As I’ve said before, creating a Gateway or teleporting to a place you weren’t familiar with had risks, but we had seen the cavern in the distance and it didn’t take much imagination to at least get us there.
Li’alla halted, but I grabbed her and pulled her forward, panting from the effort. We lurched into the portal and I felt it snap shut on the other side as my powers failed. We tumbled toward the cavern’s entrance. And the guards who stood with arrows pointed at us.
I untangled myself from Li’alla and I looked up right into a wicked looking arrowhead with a long, sharp point.
“Stay where you are,” one guard warned. A typical Drow, he had ashen gray skin and black hair underneath a helmet similar to the one I wore. His red, dragonscale armor matched mine. In fact all the guards wore red, dragonscale armor. I wondered how in the hell Vindar got so many red dragons. Maybe he just got whatever dragon was available and had them painted red?
“Wow, is that a bodkin point?” I asked, pointing to the arrowhead. “That’s the height of technology if you’re from the 14th century. I’m really surprised that Vindar actually made it to the Iron Age.”
“Shut up.” The guards looked annoyed, because that’s what guards do. I counted five of them. I glanced at Li’alla who also met my gaze for an instant. She had done the math on it, too. I was guessing because I had a decent illusion, they didn’t know that they were dealing with dragonscale, bodkin points or not. But the problem was Li’alla. She had no armor, and they were too close to get a shield up. She was likely to become a Drow pincushion.
Sure, I had my Glock, but we’d both get shot before I could even fire off one round. Even if it were only me, I couldn’t guarantee the bodkin points wouldn’t punch through at this close of a range. So, I didn’t make a move to grab my pistol.
At that moment the fire elementals appeared and attacked. The Drow guards were as surprised as we were and shot their arrows at them—with the expected results. The arrows burned up immediately and the elementals attacked the guards, because the Drow attacked them. I used the distraction to grab hold of Li’alla’s hand and pull her to her feet. We then ran to the doorway and I pushed. The damn thing wouldn’t open.
The guards screamed as they caught fire and the elementals consumed them. The sickly smell of roasting hair, flesh, and bones assaulted my nostrils. I tried to read the runes on the doorway. Problem was, I didn’t recognize the runes. I turned to Li’alla who shook her head frantically. I casted a shield and tried to think if I could call the winds again. Even though I felt weak from calling the winds and creating a portal, I decided to try to open a simple portal between the rock door and the cavern. Instead, everything fizzled and I collapsed gasping for air against the door, my shield, my illusion, and even my air conditioning spell failed, leaving us exposed. Li’alla tossed up a hastily made shield in front of us, hoping to stop the elementals long enough so I could recover my magic. But I had nothing in me. The food and rest which would normally strengthen me vanished and wasn’t coming back.
We watched as the fire elementals approached us.
They say that time seems to slow down when you’re faced with a life or death situation. That’s true, probably because your body shoots a bunch of adrenaline through your veins and your brain speeds up like Roger Rabbit on meth. I could see the hunger in the elementals’ “eyes” and I wondered how the hell we were going to get out of this. Li’alla’s shield was not as strong as mine would’ve been. In other words, the fire elementals would tear through it like tissue paper.
I stared at the fire elementals in shock and puzzlement. Why did they attack Vindar’
s Elves and us? If these elementals were from Vindar or Vindar’s mages, they should’ve recognized their own side and left them alone. Instead, they were attacking both sides. Could there be a third player involved?
The concept was beyond mindboggling.
Sweat poured down my face and back now that I didn’t have the air conditioning spell online. I’d soon pass out from heat stroke here and then the flames would consume me.
So, I drew the Vorpal blade. There was no way in hell a sword—even a magical sword—could destroy elementals, but I wasn’t going to die sniveling or passed out next to a door that wouldn’t open. It wasn’t bravery, it was sheer cussedness. If it made no difference, it was better I died kicking and screaming. Maybe Eir would come to collect me and decide if I was worthy enough for Valhalla.
I did like mead.
“Run!” I shouted to Li’alla. I then let loose a roar and charged the nearest elemental.
The first elemental hesitated as I slammed the Vorpal blade into it. Clearly, it didn’t expect me to charge it. The Vorpal blade flashed and cut through the elemental like a knife through… well…, flames. The elemental screamed and as I pulled the sword back, I noticed that instead of one gigantic fire elemental, I had two fire elementals where the one stood. The other four elementals, on seeing me outside Li’alla’s shield, descended on me.
I sliced them, cutting them in half through the middle, suddenly reducing their size and increasing their number. The first two elementals got over their shock of being rendered and started growing. I sliced them again, hoping against hope that I could weaken the caster or casters enough to overload them. With each cut the fire elementals looked weaker and weaker.
Suddenly a gigantic mist came pouring from the sky and hit the elementals. I hesitated, holding the Vorpal blade defensively, and glanced up. Tuzren flew above the elementals with a fire extinguisher pointed at them. The little demon wasn’t his normal size of a foot and a half but was instead about four feet tall. I raised an eyebrow in surprise. Could he have learned to control his size? He pressed the lever and shot them with the retardant as they tried to leap at him—considering him the bigger enemy.