Light Chasers (The World of Lasniniar Book 0)

by Jacquelyn Smith

  Nimrilwyn watched from the waters of the Rilstarmo as the winged ones incinerated the blood demons. Her blue-scaled fluke twitched as she considered. She did not like being so close to the dark creatures’ foul lake that fed the river, but somehow its taint was prevented from flowing downstream, for which she was grateful.

  Rallavalan waited for her to speak. She was surprised he had come on this mission, as he cared little for the elves. But he was a proud creature, and the Sea Folk had given their word to Valanandir that they would lend their aid. Although the Folk were not much affected by the winged or blood demons, living as they did beneath the shelter of the sea, the elves of Arindaria had long been their allies. They also knew if the elves were destroyed, the dark creatures would have free rein and the seas would no longer be safe. With the Quenya in the demons’ possession, anything was possible.

  Of course, there was also the allure of the Quenya itself. The Folk had heard its song in their hearts even beneath the waves once Valanandir and Iadrawyn had discovered it. If the Quenya were recovered, the elves had agreed to allow the Folk to commune with it. This promise had proved irresistible, tipping the balance even for the most isolate of the Folk in favor of aiding the elves. They could not fight alongside the elves, but they could spy on the dark lands from the coast and use the rivers to move inland and attack anyone who came within range of their spears. It was a fair trade, since both tasks held equal element of risk.

  Rallavalan could bear her silence no longer. “Why do we remain?” he demanded in the Sea Tongue. “The winged ones have destroyed all the blood demons. We should return to the safety of the open sea.”

  The Folk were vulnerable in the shallower waters of the river. But something kept Nimrilwyn in place, the same way she had been drawn to the wreck of Valanandir’s ship so many years ago.

  “We need to stay,” she said. “Something is going to happen.”

  “You are not my keeper. There is nothing out there but smoking ash! There is no reason for us not to leave.”

  “If you have wearied of maintaining our end of the alliance with the elves, you should go. I will not stop you.”

  Rallavalan winced, his stubborn pride stung by her words, as she had known it would be. “Do you truly think me so feckless? Very well. If you insist on staying to satisfy some vague premonition, despite the fact there is nothing out there to see, you will need someone to keep an eye on you.”

  Nimrilwyn kept her eyes on the horizon, brushing a stray blue lock of hair aside. “I had one of those ‘vague premonitions’ the day we rescued Valanandir, did I not?”

  “An interesting coincidence.” Rallavalan brushed her reasoning aside. “I will wait with anticipation to see whether another such coincidence occurs.”

  Nothing happened.

  Even after several hours had passed, Nimrilwyn’s sense of certainty did not waver. It only became stronger. She sensed Rallavalan was growing even more impatient, but he remained silent. Her vision blurred from peering into the constant darkness. One of the shadows appeared to be moving. She rubbed her eyes to clear them. When she opened them, the shadow was still there, and growing rapidly. Only one manner of creature could move through the darkness at will. It was a host of the blood demons.

  She reached out to grab Rallavalan’s arm in warning, but he was already in action, blowing his conch shell beneath the water to summon the rest of the Folk who waited nearby. The shadow was moving fast toward the mountain pass. An icy stab of fear went through her. The demons were not alone. Dark shadows hovered in the air above them. The winged demons had joined the battle.

  Nimrilwyn knew this was what she had been waiting for. The winged ones who served the Quenya would be too busy with the winged demons to battle the blood demons below. While the elven army was large, the host of blood demons was far greater. This was why the Folk were here. They would do what they could to tip the balance. Although they could do nothing against the winged demons, they could reduce the numbers of the blood demons.

  All along the river, a mass of the Folk lined up, hoisting sharpened wooden spears. The creatures hadn’t seen them yet. They were focused on gaining the pass. Nimrilwyn’s fingers clenched around her spear while her other hand hovered over the reserve of wooden missiles floating in the water beside her. She hoped few of the Folk would die this day. She was glad Rallavalan had stayed.

  The blood demons came within range.

  It was time.