Before they reached her, however, they were caught off guard by a shrill voice that yelled, “What is this?”
Before they could look to see who the voice belonged to, a gust of wind knocked all three contenders off of their feet and sent them hurdling backwards. Varg landed on his back and had the wind knocked out of his lungs. He soon saw Milea and even Zita a few feet away, disoriented, but unharmed.
Varg finally looked to see who had cast the wind spell. An elf woman with silver hair and aging blue eyes held her hand out with a little ball of wind hovering furiously just beyond her fingertips.
“One more move from any of you,” the woman said, “and my winds will rip you to shreds.”
“What the...what are you saying?” Zita asked.
“She's going to kill us if we move,” Varg said. “How can that possibly be hard to understand?”
“Varg, Zita can't understand her because she can't speak Elvish, remember?” Milea said.
“Oh...right,” Varg said as he remembered how the elves cast their spell on him.
The woman interrupted them by saying, “It's bad enough that more humans have entered the Crystal Wood unannounced, but you three have the audacity to defile the Inner Sanctum of the Mother's holy temple and you speak in that filthy human tongue on top of that! And you...”
The woman pointed her finger on her free hand at Milea, who was attempting to pull herself up off the floor, then hissed, “You were banished from the Crystal Wood. By returning where you are unwelcome, you hereby forfeit your life.”
“You won't harm Milea while I'm around,” Varg shouted.
The elf woman blinked and then stared at him. “You...how do you know our language?” She pointed at Milea again and asked, “Did she teach you?”
Before anyone could answer, several more elf women ran into the room to investigate the noise.
“High Priestess Morvyn,” one of the elves said, “what's going on here?”
The High Priestess kept her eyes trained on the intruders, but still answered, “These humans have entered the Crystal Wood by unknown means and have violated the Temple of Laelith. They will be punished as soon as we deliver them to Queen Shalia to carry out sentencing. Send for her at once.”
“Yes, High Priestess,” the elf said with a bow.
As the elf woman left the Inner Sanctum to carry out her task, Morvyn addressed the other priestesses.
“The rest of you will help me escort these wretches to the altar room, where we will await the queen.” Morvyn turned to Varg, Milea, and Zita, and said, “You three, on your feet.”
Varg huffed and climbed steadily to his feet, fighting dizziness on the way up. He looked over to his left, where Zita took the hint and stood as well. She stared at Varg as she did so, and the murderous intent behind her eyes told him that her business with him was far from over.
Varg ignored her and looked over to Milea, who had landed just at the base of the glowing crystal. He walked over and held out his hand to help her up, but she put out her own hand to stop him.
“I'm fine,” she muttered as she pulled herself up. To gain leverage, she placed her hand on the crystal's surface and hoisted herself up.
“Don't touch that!” Morvyn screeched, but it was too late.
Upon contact with the great crystal of the temple, Milea's entire body stiffened up and her head craned back. Her body seized and though she made no sound, she stared up at the ceiling with a blank expression. She opened her mouth as though to scream, but no sound could escape. It was as though she were watching something unseen by anyone else in the room as her body continued to convulse.
“Milea!” Varg shouted as he rushed to her side to pull her off of the cursed crystal.
He stopped, however, when a hand grabbed his arm and pulled him away. He turned to see High Priestess Morvyn holding his arm.
“Don't touch her,” she barked. She then stared at Milea with a look of pure awe and said, “Laelith preserve us. She's having a vision.”
Milea's body ascended into the air and hovered limply as she became encased in green light. Varg watched helplessly as she hovered in midair several feet above the ground for several minutes, unable to move or cry for help. Finally, the light dimmed and Milea began her descent to the ground. By the time her feet touched the polished stone, her body fell limp and she fell into a deep sleep. Once she was still, the light from the crystal faded and the room was soon plunged in darkness.
As Conley and his troops made their way back through the front gates of Ironbarrow, the gate guards informed him that the Countess had requested his presence at the castle immediately. The count ordered his troops to stand by in the city while he, Oliva, and Tain rushed to Ironstone Keep.
A servant nearly collided with Conley as he entered the great hall, and the guards were darting back and forth shouting orders and carrying them out. Catrina stood nearby giving orders to one of the guards and when she saw Conley, she dismissed the guard and ran to meet her husband.
“I feared you wouldn't return in time,” Catrina cried as she embraced Conley.
“What do you mean, 'in time?' What's going on, my love?” Conley pressed.
Catrina released her grip and took a step back, then said, “Well to start, Erril has returned from Whitspire.”
“She has?” Conley asked. “That's good, isn't it? That means the king is probably sending his troops as we speak.”
Catrina shook her head and answered, “I'm afraid not, husband. You see, Erril has returned with dire news.”
“What news?”
“It's Whitspire,” Catrina said, “it's been taken over by Edric Greenwood.”
“What? How? What happened to the king?” Conley asked.
Catrina then told him all about what Erril had told her, about her arrival, her capture, imprisonment, and escape, and how she ran into Tollack and King Reman. She then told him how Greenwood and the Shadow Hand were leading the Whitspire troops to Ironbarrow to attack while Conley's troops were distracted by Alastor's forces.
“Well at least the king and the others are safe,” Conley said. “Where is Erril now?”
“I sent her to her room to rest,” Catrina said. “She's been through enough in the past week and a half to last anyone a lifetime.”
“Good,” Conley answered. “After all she's done for us, she deserves some rest.”
“I'll go stay with her in case she needs something,” Oliva offered.
Conley shook his head and answered, “No, Oliva. I need you on the battlefront in case the soldiers need healing. Not to mention your offensive magic is invaluable at a time like this.”
“Will fighting do any good for any of us?” Tain asked. “One army of invaders is one thing, but two? It can't be done, not even with Ironbarrow's army.”
“We still have to try,” Oliva argued.
“What do you think will happen if we continue to resist?” Tain asked. “If Ironbarrow falls after we defied them, the enemy will not offer leniency. I've seen what happens when a city resists a siege only to lose it in the end; those who survive suffer unimaginable horrors.”
“Like what?” Oliva dared to ask.
Tain stared at her and said, “Let's just say that my scars are among the mildest reminders of what people are capable of.”
Silence ensued for several moments until Catrina cleared her throat and spoke up.
“I will stay with Erril on the condition that all of you return alive,” Catrina said.
Conley shook his head. “I wish I could make such a promise, Catrina, but I do promise that Ironbarrow will still rise above this conflict even if I am not here to lead her.”
He could see that Catrina wanted to argue, but she knew as well as anyone else that her request could only be achieved if fate should allow it. Conley made a move to comfort his wife, but he was soon interrupted when the doors to the Great Hall edged open and several soldiers came running inside.
“Count Rowan,” one soldier said, “the enemy i
s advancing.”
Conley straightened up. “Which one?”
“Both of them, Milord,” another soldier said. “Both Eastwold and Whitspire are just outside of the city.”
“How did they advance so quickly?” Oliva wondered.
“And without anyone noticing?” Tain added.
“The scouts haven't reported back,” the soldier replied, “so it's likely that they were taken out before they could sound the alarms.”
Conley's stomach turned at the thought, then he composed himself and asked, “What are they doing right now?”
“You'd better come see, Sir,” the soldier said, “the men are waiting for you at the city wall.”
“All right,” Conley said. “Have you reinforced the city gate?”
“Yes Sir, and the rest of the wall as well,” the soldier answered.
“Very good, soldier. Let's move out,” Conley said.
Conley and the soldiers then made their way to the front gates where Conley took his place in the tower just above the gate. What he saw from his viewpoint made him question his own prowess for the first time since he was first named Count of Ironbarrow.
The city was completely surrounded on both the North and the East sides. Even if the city were to evacuate, there was no way the entire city of citizens could make it out of the gate and around the wall to go either south or west before either army would be upon them. The two massive armies stood with their battle flags raised and their weapons ready and drawn. The landscape was swallowed by colors of green and violet uniforms, and at the end of the path leading from the front gate of the city, both on horseback, stood Alastor Rainald and Edric Greenwood.
Alastor donned full armor, as did his horse, and Edric wore a satin green doublet with fine black gloves, boots, breeches, and a cape as though he were attending an important dinner party as opposed to leading a siege. Conley paid no heed to Edric's choice of attire and instead focused on the fact that the armies, only a stone's throw away from the front gates, were not attacking. They simply stood there, waiting, daring Ironbarrow to even nock the first arrow.
“They've been standing there for ten minutes, Milord,” the gate guard said. “We don't know what they're waiting for.”
Conley knew, and he didn't like it. “They're waiting for me.”
As if on cue, Alastor made a gesture with his hand. At his command, the Eastwold soldiers wheeled several large wooden contraptions out of the crowd and up to the front lines. Conley recognized them all too well.
“Everyone brace for impact!” he yelled.
Within seconds the catapults launched enormous swirling balls of fire into the city and wall. Conley and the rest of his men dropped below the wall's side guard as the fire flew over them and smashed into the residential buildings of Ironbarrow.
As the enemy ceased fire, Conley stood and looked into the city from his perch in the tower to survey the damage. The fires spread rapidly and dozens of people and guards ran through the streets in an effort to get away from and tame the blaze respectively. Smoke filled the air and assaulted Conley's lungs and eyes as he shouted orders for nearby men to help get everything under control, then he turned around to see that the army still had not yet moved.
“What's going on?” the gate guard asked. “What's the point of launching catapults if they weren't going to start their attack?”
Conley could almost see the smug look on Alastor's face as he nodded in the former's direction. Conley understood exactly what his intentions were.
“It was a warning,” Conley said. “He wants me to get a taste of the destruction to come if we resist.”
The guards exchanged glances, then said, “We're behind you all the way, Count Rowan. Whatever you decide, we will follow your command with the utmost loyalty.”
Conley closed his eyes and shut out all of his surroundings: the screaming of the people, the sounds of fire, and the thousands of eyes staring at him. Somehow his mind brought him back to Tain's words, Let's just say that my scars are among the mildest reminders of what people are capable of.
Conley opened his eyes, pointed to a group of soldiers, and said, “You men round up the townspeople and escort them to the castle. Have the servants set up bedding in the Great Hall and provide food and water to anyone and everyone who needs it.” He pointed to another group. “You men start putting out those fires. One of you need to go and fetch Tain and Oliva to help, Oliva with her magic and Tain with his water abilities. And you...”
Conley pointed to one last soldier and said, “I want you to bring me my horse to the gate. Make sure he's saddled and ready to ride.”
“Yes Sir,” the soldier answered, “but if I may ask, where are you going, my Lord?”
With a heavy heart, Conley answered, “I will be riding out to meet Alastor and Edric to negotiate my surrender.”
CHAPTER 16
As Milea finally awoke, the shapes of two people soon came into view, and it didn't take long for Milea to make out Varg's white hair. She heard his voice muttering something, then she heard another voice that she soon pegged as her mother's.
“She's waking up,” she heard Varg say. “Milea, can you hear me?”
“...Yes,” Milea mumbled.
“Thank Laelith,” Queen Shalia said. “Are you all right, Milea?”
“I'll live,” Milea muttered. She then remembered everything that happened in the Temple. She and Varg made it to the Inner Sanctum, they were confronted by Zita, then the High Priestess, then Milea touched that crystal, and...
Milea shivered as she remembered the way everything else vanished around her and she witnessed what she could only describe as a memory, but what she saw in that memory changed everything she thought she knew.
Milea fought off her dizzy spell and took in her surroundings. She somehow had made it back to the royal chambers in the castle, and she was lying on the very couch that she and Varg sat on when they'd arrived.
“How did I get back here?” Milea asked.
“I carried you,” Varg said. “After your vision, your mother ordered that you be brought back to the castle, then she had the guards escort us up here.”
“What about Zita?” Milea asked.
“The guards placed her in the dungeon for questioning,” Shalia said. “You can speak to her later if you wish, but first we need to talk about what happened in the Temple.”
Milea shut her eyes. “I'm sorry we broke in, but-”
Shalia put up her hand. “I'm not worried about that.” She lowered her hand and continued, “It's true, it was a foolish decision, and you touched the most sacred of crystals that even priestesses have always been taught never to lay a hand on, but more to the point, we need to talk about your vision. I never imagined such a thing would happen, but your friend here already confirmed it. I need to know exactly what you saw.”
Milea placed her head in her hand to clear the cloudiness, then she responded, “I'm not sure where to begin. The last thing I remember was touching the crystal. The moment after that, I saw strange images in my mind, then I saw an elf woman, a priestess I think. She was calling me by a different name, though, so I think I witnessed someone's memory. I think the priestess called me 'Elora.'”
“I know that name,” Shalia said. “She was the Crystal Wood's first queen.”
“Why would Milea have a vision about an ancient elf queen?” Varg wondered aloud.
“She isn't the only thing I saw,” Milea announced.
“What else did you see?” Shalia asked.
Milea straightened up. “This queen, Elora, handed something to the priestess and asked her to hide it so that it wouldn't be found until it was time.”
“What is it?” Varg pressed.
Milea's heart raced. Never in her wildest dreams would she imagine seeing what she saw in the queen's hands.
“Milea?” Varg said.
Milea snapped out of it, took a deep breath, then said, “It was my dagger, my father's dagger. The queen in my vision, who
my mother just said lived thousands of years ago, held up that same exact dagger to the priestess and said, 'Once you have used this, make sure it isn't found until the time is right.'”
“I remember that dagger,” Shalia said. “Your father had it in his possession when I met him. He said it was an old family heirloom.”
“That old thing?” Varg said. “I know it means a lot to you, Milea, but it's just an old iron dagger. I've seen a million just like it. How do you know it was that specific dagger that you saw in your vision?”
“Because it had the same symbols on the blade as mine does, and father always told me they were unique,” Milea said.
“But why would this queen have your dagger? And why would she want it to stay hidden?” Varg asked.
“I don't know, but this vision does clear up two things,” Milea said. “One, it explains how my father was able to get past the barrier, and two, it tells us what Jin is after and why he hasn't been able to find it.”
Varg's expression hardened as he understood at last. “You mean...?”
Milea nodded. “Yes, Varg. My dagger, which up until now I believed only held sentimental value, is the key to the Crystal Wood. All this time, Jin has scoured the lands looking for it, and I've had the key in my possession all along.”
“Why a dagger?” Shalia wondered. “And why such an ordinary dagger? Your father even told me once that he could barely cut his hair with that old thing.”
“Exactly,” Milea said. “What better way to hide something so valuable than to make it look as mundane as possible and hiding elaborate decoys in plain sight?”
“It worked, too,” Varg said. “We spent all this time looking for some grand artifact when the real key was right under our noses this whole time. Let's hope it continues to fool Jin until we can get it back.”
“What do you mean?” Shalia asked. “Where is the dagger?”
Milea hung her head in shame and answered, “It was taken from me by another enemy of ours. I don't think he realized what it was, but he knew that it was important to me and kept it simply out of spite. Unfortunately, I was unable to retrieve it before escaping.”
The Crystal Wood (Half-Breed Book 2) Page 17