To begin with, Elena started thinking about Dars, and then switched to her elven relatives, about how they treated her. With the first, she hit an impervious wall of fear and imbued self-control, but with the latter, she found a reliable fuse. Even though it was a bit longer.
Her brow furrowed with the effort and her lips pressed together so firmly they went white. Even though it seemed almost impossible, all her muscles tightened even harder. Failon was suddenly attentive.
This time, it was different. It was not as slow and natural as she was used to. Usually, her anger tended to sort of seep through the barrier of her self-control rather gradually and it took some time, before it squeezed through completely. Now, what Failon called a dragon in her blood, put out a few make feelers and then ran headlong against the wall. Without any warning whatsoever, the dragon broke through with all its might. All of a sudden, Failon found himself staring into dragon eyes. A split second after she opened the reptilian eyes, Elena lifted her palms from her knees and slapped them down onto the rock. Everything happened so quickly that Failon had no time to react. Even before her hands had touched the slab, blue fireballs appeared under her palms, growing rapidly. Elena hit the rock with them. Failon could feel the earth shake beneath him, a heat wave hit his protective mental barrier and the air around them exploded and hurled him backwards.
This was what it felt like, when your blood exploded. Her brain, consciousness and all her insides flipped backwards, then came several inside, uncontrolled somersaults into different directions. She realized there was a roaring fire all around her. Failon was gone. Panic struck. The spreading fire sphere stopped less than a meter from the edge of the slab, and imploded. Whirling flames seamed to suck back into their center, into Elena, imploding a tad slower than it took them to explode a moment earlier.
Failon flew through the air, tossed by the explosion across the whole rock slab, and slammed into the trees, which were desperately trying to get away from the fire in their midst. They were, however, too slow. Failon smashed into one of them and collapsed into its moving roots.
Before her eyes reverted to their original, human shape, they rolled. With her legs still crossed, Elena folded sideways and lay motionless. The whole event took only a few seconds.
Failon moved. All shook up; he sat up and methodically patted himself down to assess the damage. Surprisingly, nothing was broken, even though Elena had literally squashed him against the tree. The trunk he was leaning on was shaking. Elena! Finally, he remembered and focused on the collapsed figure. Failon got up laboriously and, as fast as his battered body allowed, ran over to the girl. Falling to his knees, he lifted her carefully. Elena’s head lolled backwards passively. Failon fearfully found her carotid. To his relief, he could feel a pulse. A very, very weak pulse. Elena’s face was almost white, lips ash-gray, cloudy whites of her eyes shone under her partially opened lids, her breath was shallow and broken. The water flask at his side had luckily survived his rather harder fall. Failon bathed Elena’s neck and face, doing all he could for her at that moment. And then he looked around.
He was sitting in a middle of a small crater with melted edges. Almost all the way to its rim, the rock was blackened, and partly melted in quite a few places. A map of cracks and crevices spread from the center of the crater. Still warm, the rock tinkled as it cooled down. Trees stood further away from the stone and closer together than they had done before, earth ripped around their roots. He had to appreciate that Elena warned him to expect fire, and that he’s had the foresight to use so many fire protective spells. Though he felt like a sucked out oyster, he had to take care of her.
It was a lot harder to lift himself to his feet, than Elena into his arms. She was so slight and light. Markedly slower than on his way to the rock, he ran back to his shack. Michael was waiting for him there. Panic-stricken, the boy ran to meet them the moment he saw Elena’s lifeless body in Failon’s arms.
“What happened?” Michael blurted out. Failon gave him a tired look, carried Elena inside the shack and lay her on a bed. Lifting one of her eyelids, the elf was satisfied to find an unresponsive, but indeed human pupil instead of empty whites. Failon began to work. Initially, Michael stood by the wall, so he wouldn’t get in the way. Now it was time to land a helping hand. Failon did what he did best, he healed.
Michael listened to Failon’s account of what had happened. Judging by the look on his face, Failon was lucky that Michael did not have magical powers also, because if he had, Failon would probably have flown through the air again.
“Ya’re supposed to teach her, not kill her!” Michael reproached. The elf was silent. He dared not admit to underestimating the situation. They would need a much bigger rock next time. Would it help Elena to use different power source than her own blood? Would it simplify matters, or would it make things even worse? Everybody had only a limited amount of energy in them, magical or otherwise, and using magic was exhausting. Now, Elena was almost beyond exhaustion.
◆◆◆
Once again, she had an awful headache. Correction, her whole body ached. All her muscles felt full of lead. Failon was going to pay! And then, Elena realized she did not know what had happened to him. One moment he was sitting opposite her, the next … he was simply gone. Before she could stop herself, she imagine what could have happened to him. Yuck! Her already upset stomach flipped. Unwelcome, memories of … the other things knocked on the door of her conciseness. Elena was terrified of what she had willingly awakened in herself. It was far more powerful than when it awoke of its own accord. The power had surprised her, and that was probably one of the reasons, why she could not hold it down. She remembered how much she had wanted to put the fire out, before it caused too much damage. If someone was to ask her, and she was sure someone was going to ask her, Elena would not be able to explain how she’d managed it. The only thing she knew for sure was that she’d needed all her energy to return the fire back where it came from, into herself. Suddenly realizing someone was in the room with her, she also noticed it was not her own room. Slowly, Elena turned her head. Even her neck muscles protested painfully. With effort, she focused on the figure sleeping on a settee nearby. It was Michael. He did not seem to be sleeping the sound sleep of the just, often moving uneasily, turning or twitching. For a second, Elena was happy he was there, before it dawned on her that tomorrow, everyone was going to ask a million questions. Grandauntie was bound to haul her over the coals. What an awful thought! An even worse thought was that Failon would want her to do it again. YUCK! If he’d survived, that is. Why was she worried? He was slimy as a snail and he was sure to have found a way. And if he had not, it was his own fault anyway. Elena, however, did not intend to wait here to find out. Moreover, she did not intend to be here to see what was going to come out of all this mess. Very slowly and very carefully, she sat up.
◆◆◆
Michael woke up with the feeling something was wrong. Hell! Elena’s bed was empty. A closer look revealed not only the girl was gone, but all her things as well. Gods damn it! His rapid movements woke Failon up. The elf’s skin was almost see-through, his hair disheveled. Actually, there were even wrinkles on his face. When he noticed Michael’s surprised look, he straightened his hair quickly, and shrugged.
“What’s happening?” he barked. Momentarily, Michael was taken aback, since for Failon, this was far too straightforward a question. He really wasn’t quite himself.
“Elena is gone.” Michael answered and Failon swore. Michael did not understand him as such, but it definitely sounded vulgar. What Failon let out, was more of a guttural sound, than a word.
Failon did not have to scold the boy for not keeping proper watch over Elena, Michael blamed himself enough. That redheaded midget had outsmarted him again! And got him into trouble. Again. Odd thing was, he had a pretty good idea why Elena scampered, and understood. She should have taken him with, though. They searched the immediate vicinity of the shack, but could not find her. Only a barely visible line o
f footprints showed the direction she had taken, but quite quickly, they lost that too. Blast it!
◆◆◆
Queen Alivan was furious. The sound of the forest had changed. The usual whisper of the leaves turned into a deeper hum, as individual voices passed information to each other and argued. In vain, Alivan tried to convince the woods to tell her where the little witch was. But the forest was afraid. Most of all, Elena was afraid and the forest could feel it. For the first time in her reign, the Queen experienced the woods’ disobedience. She was enraged. Michael stood in the corner, his hands clenched behind his back, his gaze locked on something far behind Alivan’s shoulder. He suspected her majesty was trying to read his mind, and was glad not to know the answers to most of her questions. For Elena’s sake, he was thinking about everything else, but her. Concentrating hard on the protection of his thoughts made it slightly easier.
Suddenly, Alivan went silent. It dawned on him a moment later. He could not help himself and looked directly at her. Interesting, how she could be horrifying and beautiful at the same time. There was something familiar in her expression; something he was used to seeing in an angry Elena. Grandauntie! Well, well, well, at least he knew what to expect in the future.
Alivan moved so quickly, he realized it only when she was directly in front of him, hovering over him, her nose almost touching his.
“You are not listening to me!” she snapped.
“Om!”
“I want you to find her!” she screamed at him, spitting at his face. He blinked and looked her straight in the eye. His jaw was clenched, his entire body strained.
“I will,” he agreed. But I will not bring her back to ya’, dear grandauntie! he thought. He caught her unawares by saying: “If that is all, I’d like to leave.” To throw the helve after the hatchet of the unheard of rudeness, he turned on his heal and walked out, not giving her a chance to protest.
Alivan barked at him, but he paid no attention, moving like an iceberg. He would never allow Eli to grow into something so nasty! He swore to her, damn it! She should have brought him with. He would find her, make sure she was all right and then break her in two. Howe dare she leave him behind! With that crazy family of hers! Sure, if he were with her, the elves would have probably found them a lot faster, but she should have brought him with anyway! He would find her and then they would go wherever she wished to. If it was at least a bit safe, that is. Gods, she was but a child, still! He did not need to ask her what happened to know that Failon had scared her to death with that little experiment of his. Michael did not have to ask to know that her capability of dealing with that wretched family of hers had … sort of worn out. Elena was just a kid and what she had had to deal with would have been far too much even for an adult. He had to find her before they did. He had to find her without leading them onto her trail. How was he supposed to keep his fealty and protect her, when he had no clue where the heck she was? He had to figure out how to find her and do it fast.
Michael flung open the door to his room so hard it hit the wall and splinters fell to the ground. He packed quickly, taking everything he needed for a long trip: weapons, clothes, food, leaving behind all the tat. That way, maybe it would not be so obvious he did not intend to come back. All that time he was thinking about what Elena had taken with her. He was sure she had a blanket and all the weapons she took to Failons’ the day before yesterday. Was it that long already? Everybody had expected to have found her by now. They had not. Damn! Silly girl! She should have brought him with! He feared for her, hoped she was all right, but this was not the time to distract himself with such thoughts. It was necessary for him to concentrate.
What did Elena take with her? The weapons she had with her in Failon’s shack. That pretty much meant she was armed to her teeth. For sure she had a sword, trakesh, the long elven bow with arrows, knife, maybe a trak. Since she always carried them, he suspected her to have her throwing knives. Michael was certain that Elena’s little crossbow was still in her room. Did she really have a trak? No, he hadn’t seen her carrying it that day. Looking at the weather, she was bound to need warmer clothes. He had a notion she had her light elven cloak with her. And she took the blanket Failon had tucked her into. This meant she would need all the rest of her stuff, mostly that little box she’d got from Ashka. He had to move fast.
Michael walked into Elena’s room and halted, taken aback. Something was wrong with the space. Very wrong. Something was missing. He opened the wardrobe. If Eli finds out, she’ll kill him. No, she won’t. There were only dresses hanging there. Everything that had a skirt was left behind, some pieces dropped from their hangers into an untidy pile. All the shirts, trousers and a heavy coat were gone. Judging by empty spaces, two books were missing from the shelves. From the big trunk under her bed, all the weapons disappeared, the crossbow included. The little wooden box from Ashka, was nowhere to be found. He searched the room. Elena had left behind all the things she did not need or were too heavy to carry. Durable provisions were gone from the kitchen cabinets.
Gods, how had she managed this? How did she get back into town unseen, and how did she get out again with all those things? When he pictured how Alivan would react to this, Michael smiled to himself. She was bound to go berserk. And what about the town guards?! This would let all hell lose. A small, eight-year old girl had wiped the floor with their reputable buttocks.
He threw his saddlebags over his shoulder and marched to the horse corrals. Just a minute, saddlebags. Elena’s saddlebags were also gone. Sure, how else would she have carried everything away?
Another surprise awaited him at the corral. A grumpy guard greeted him. Ashkent was gone. The slyboots! How had Elena managed this? Failon had gathered an entire search party. They were discussing in which direction they should start looking, and most of all, how come Elena has walked off with her horse without anyone noticing them.
“Most of her stuff’s gone too,” he gloated, glad Elena had pulled such a stunt. It would do them stuck-ups good.
Everyone went silent. He wished Elena could see their expressions right then. Especially Öron, who’s face was beautifully sour. Oh damn! What was Öron doing here anyway? And why was Llillam here? Failon must have gone mad if they will take part in the search.
Michael walked into the saddle shed, reached for his own leather and paused. Elena’s saddle was in its place on the bench. Strange. She grabs all her stuff and horse and leaves her saddle? He was pondering the puzzle, when Öron appeared.
“My saddle is gone. It was first in the line,” he complained. Michael turned to give him an unfriendly contemptuous look, and offered no response. Things were getting stranger still. Say you anything you want, Elena was a Berber heart and soul. There were things a Berber would simply never do. No Berber would take somebody else’s weapon, horse, nor saddle, if they could grab their own. These were the best companions of each Berber, so why should Elena do such a thing? And why the hell would she take Öron’s, when she’d complained about it, saying it was weird and strangely constructed? She had enough time to pack her things and lead Ashkent away, so why could she not spare the few seconds needed to get her own saddle? It was something to ponder.
He had to figure out what to do next. Elena was obviously well armed, had all her stuff and a horse. Still, he could not get that saddle out of his head.
Another strange thing was that Ashkent’s hoof prints were nowhere to be found. It was true that everyone was stomping around, but the elves were extremely light-footed and a horse the size of Ashkent simply must have left some tracks. The horse could not have flown out of here, now, could he? Well then, Elena was raised a Berber. It was therefore likely she would behave as a Berber first, and only when that did not suffice, she would start being a forest elf. Michael, then, had to do the same. Gods damn it; she should have let him come with her in the first place. Even if he managed to figure out, where she was headed, not bringing the elves to her was going to be a problem. Michael was not at all happ
y that Öron and Llillam were accompanying the search party. Llillam had just then drew level with him. For quite a while, they rode in silence, before Llillam finally spoke: “Will you tell me what happened?”
“With all due respect, ask Failon.”
“I have already done that,” answered the elf and Michael shrugged.
“Then ya’ know as much as I do.” Silence followed, Llillam taking his time to speak again.
“I regret we have not treated Elena in … a very friendly manner. It is understandable you have lost your faith in us,” he began. Michael thought there was no real faith to be lost, and determinedly said nothing.
“The woods are very dangerous. To find her, we must know what is going on in her mind.”
Michael did not even look at the elf. He was thinking about how to give the group the slip, so he could search on his own.
“I know I have not behaved so, but she is my grandchild. I want her to be safe, I want to get to know her better, and I want to find her.”
Despite himself and despite the fact that he did not know why, Michael believed Llillam was speaking the truth. “Eli’s afraid. Freaked to death. At least I think so. Becoming a dark witch was always a great nightmare with her, and now she was forced to do something she couldn’t control and doesn’t understand. She’s always fought herself to control the power. Now Failon forced her to awaken what’s inside her.” Michael paused. He himself was angry with Failon for that stupid experiment, for hurting Elena. In his mind, he could still see Failon emerging from the trees with Elena’s lifeless body in his arms, her skin pale and breath shallow. Suddenly, he realized something. For him to be able to give them the slip, he had to convince them he was on their side. With that in mind, he began discussing with Llillam what needed to be done, emphasizing how important it was to find Elena.
The Witch (Dragon Eyes Book 1) Page 18