We stumbled to the top, Dalandaras inching slowly up the stairs.
“To the door,” Eliawen said.
“What about the elves?” I asked as my father and Aerik dragged me to the door, Crowndan and Zarah following close behind.
“We’re no help to them,” Aerik replied.
We hurried through the hallway, stumbling over the stones and glass. I fell, slipping from Aerik and my father’s grip, and couldn’t get myself on my feet.
It was Dalandaras that emerged from the darkness, his torch missing, who lifted me up without strain, setting me on my feet against my father. Eliawen was nearby, still whispering words that I could not make out.
“Did you imprison it?” Father asked.
“I cannot,” Dalandaras replied. “Keep moving.”
“Why not?” I demanded.
“It has tasted your blood.”
“And?”
“I cannot imprison it here unless I kill you first.”
His words just barely registered. “Well that’s going to be a problem, because I’d rather not die.”
“I do not consider it an option.”
“It is at the door,” Eliawen said.
“Everybody get back!” my father shouted, pulling me along with him.
I pulled away from my father, only to fall onto Dalandaras. His arm circled my waist, holding me up as my knees buckled. I reached a hand out, the words coming to me as they had before. “You will not come further.”
The apparition halted, but the smell of sea air filled the room again. From behind the apparition my mother emerged, her face illuminated by some unseen light.
“Do not trick me.”
“What is it?” Dalandaras asked.
“It isn’t,” my mother replied with a smile. “Not this time.”
“That is not fair.” As I said it, what strength I had to hold the apparition back seeped away, and it advanced.
“What do you see?” Father demanded.
“Don’t you see…?” I asked, dazed.
“Hold my hand,” Dalandaras said, and his threaded between mine. “Eliawen!”
She caught my other hand, and I felt a surge of warmth between us. What oppression came from the apparition melted away, until there was only us three and a strange, otherly language on my lips. My head spun and I could not think clearly enough to decipher what I was saying, but the words reached deep into my soul and pulled at the life within.
The apparition disappeared back into the darkness of its prison, and my mother faded away. I wanted to weep.
“How long do we have?” my father asked.
“A day, perhaps,” Eliawen said. “But it is much stronger than we thought it would be.”
“Is that something an elf learns?” I asked. The shadows and the flames were starting to blur together again. “What you did?”
“Not quite,” Dalandaras said. He lifted me up in his arms with ease. I nearly cried with relief when I buried my face in the soft fur that lined his coat. “It is an old learning.”
“What’s wrong with her?” my father demanded. “Eva, can you hear me?”
I felt cool breeze blowing down on me, and I heard the call of the men we had left behind. Had I fallen asleep? Or was Dalandaras quick?
“She is going to be dazed,” Dalandaras replied, but his voice faded away. “She should not have been able to do that, nor survive it……”
And everything was black.
CHAPTER FIVE
I could hear people talking: my father, Aerik, Crowndan, Sir Aros, Dalandaras and the other two elves, but I couldn’t open my eyes. It was much nicer to be asleep, to float in the darkness than to endure the throbbing headache that I could feel waiting for me. But slowly I did wake, coming in and out of consciousness, not wanting to open my eyes in the harsh light.
I was curled on my side on top of someone’s bed. We were back in the Fort – I could hear the call of the changing of the guards. The stone walls were unmistakable. I was not bundled under the covers but wrapped in someone’’s cloak, the fur soft and comforting against my cheek. It had a faint scent of salt and sage and some other unfamiliar sweet plant, and reminded me of Dalandaras. My boots and coat had been taken off, but otherwise I was in the clothes I had worn the day before.
“Are you certain that Evalandriel has never been near this place before?” I heard Dalandaras ask.
“She’s lived her entire life in Port Darad until six months ago,” Aerik replied.
I willed myself awake. The harsh light softened as my eyes adjusted. There was a door, partially ajar. Through it I could see one of the Lord Governor’s private rooms, the central chamber that connected all the others. Was I in my father’s bedroom then? Or the one that he had meant for me to have?
I could only see Dalandaras and Lorandal, and the shadows of those who were out of sight.
“It would be best if you sent your men south again,” Eliawen said from somewhere beyond. “It would prevent them from showing anyone the location of the ruins.”
“If four miners and my daughter can find it, then anyone can,” my father replied. “I doubt sending them home will improve this situation.”
Dalandaras glanced over and met my eyes.
“It would be best if Eva goes back south as well,” Aerik said.
“Absolutely not,” my father replied.
“She doesn’t want to be here anyway,” he argued. “If you had bothered to pay her any mind when she was growing up—”
Dalandaras slipped quietly into the room as their conversation turned into an argument. He knelt in front of me.
“How long?” My voice cracked, and I couldn’t raise it above a whisper.
“Overnight,” he replied. “You have not moved since I set you here. Does anything hurt?”
“My head. I’m shaky.”
He slipped his fingers between my head and the pillow. There was only the vaguest of pains when he touched where I had hit the stone. “How does that feel?”
It was strange to be so close to him. His skin had an almost pearly sheen to it, and when he turned his head and his cheek caught the light, I had the impression of a design, of bold strokes of line, nearly the same color of his skin. I blinked, and it was gone again.
He reached into his coat and pulled out a small wooden disk. It was a container – he removed the cover and rubbed his finger inside. He then rubbed his finger beneath my nose. My skin cooled at the contact. “Just inhale.”
The scent was the same as the one I could smell in his cloak. The growing headache faded away. The shakiness went as well, and the fog of sleep cleared.
“It heals everything, then?” My voice was firmer, louder.
“Many things,” he replied with a small smile.
“You could sell that to us. You’d make a fortune.”
“And give away all of our secrets?” His smile grew wider.
“Eva?” Father appeared in the doorway. He was pale, his hair uncombed, and there were dark circles underneath his eyes.
“He spent the night by your side,” Dalandaras whispered before making room for my father.
Father knelt in front of me, stroking my hair back from my forehead.
The last time he had done that I had been ten, and furious at him. He had tried to reassure me, to tell me that we would see each other again, and I said hateful things to him that injure in a way only a child can. “I’m fine,” I murmured.
Crowndan appeared in the door, relief on his face. “I’ll fetch the doctor.”
“No need,” Dalandaras gestured, and Lorandal came in.
“How are you feeling?” Lorandal asked.
“I can’t feel much,” I replied. “I think I’m a little hungry.”
“That is a good sign.” My father moved out of the elf’s way. Lorandal pressed his fingers to my neck and felt my pulse. “Are you dizzy?”
“No. Whatever your prince did made my headache disappear.”
“Try to stand on your own.
”
I slipped my legs over the side of the bed. My boots and harness had been taken off and left on the floor. I rose slowly, expecting to ache, but Dalandaras’ healing had worked wonderfully. There was a moment’s dizziness as I sat up, but it passed quickly.
Guided by my father, I slowly made my way into the next room. Zarah and Sir Aros were there as well. Zarah rushed over and hugged me. “We were really worried,” she said. “Though the Prince seemed to believe you would be fine.”
She guided me towards the table. Breakfast had been set out. There was a soldiers’ sustenance of beef, pork, bread, cheese, and apples, and the more refined lord’s meal of fresh rolls, butter, salmon, and fresh fruit. The platters had already been half-consumed. Even as I sat down, Father grabbed a plate and placed it before me, loading food onto it before I could make any move.
The smells brought on a pang of hunger, and with little hesitation I dug in. I was too hungry to be bothered with cutlery, and tore at the boiled eggs and bread rolls with my fingers. I didn’t even mind that my father refilled my plate as I cleared it.
It took me a few minutes to realize that everyone else was silent, and watching me.
I swallowed my last bite. “Is there a plan?”
“Prince Dalandaras thinks he has one,” Aerik said, his tone sharp. “I’m not fond of it.”
“What is it?”
“You will come with us,” the elf said. “Today. So eat; you will need your strength for the journey.””
“Today?”
“When you are finished.”
“Why? Why can’t I stay here?”
“Because the apparition wants you, for whatever reason. I was a fool. I should have realized that killing the four men would give it strength. And it had strength enough for one physical action. It threw you into the pit.”
“And now it’s tasted my blood? What does that do?”
“It is clear now that you have some sort of power of your own—”
“You suspected it before!” Aerik said accusingly. “It’s why you insisted that she go in with you.”
“I did not mean for it to taste her blood!” Irritation crept into the elf’s voice.
“It’s black magic then,” Crowndan said disgustedly.
“There is no black magic,” Lorandal said. “Only magic that is more dangerous than others. You would do well to remember that, if we are to make sure this apparition is imprisoned again.”
“My blood?” I pressed.
“It has attached itself to you. You are sustaining it. We managed to trap it yesterday, but it will break free and pursue you. You are in a unique position. It cannot be weakened and imprisoned with you alive, but you are—with us—strong enough to repel it for a time. But it cannot go on forever.”
So I was the one keeping it alive. The easiest way to defeat this apparition would be to kill me. Food was no longer palatable, and I pushed the plate away.
“Why didn’t you tell us all of this before?” My father demanded.
“Would it truly have affected what we had to do?” Dalandaras countered. “The people who were powerful enough to help the apparition died thousands of years ago. It is not possible for Eva to exist.”
“Isn’t your grandfather one of those that is powerful enough?” I asked. “What of the others?”
“They are dead. But they are the only ones I know of who have knowledge of these things.”
“She stays here,” my father said firmly.
“So close to this apparition?” Aerik asked. “She should return home, to Port Darad.”
“I will not have her away from me.”
“Then I suggest you come with us, because I’m taking her away.”
“Neither of you comprehend,” Eliawen said firmly. “There are only two options: she comes with us, or she dies. Running south will not help her. We can.”
“And what do I do to protect the men?” Sir Aros asked. “We cannot abandon the mining. Even if we could evacuate, there are thousands that must be moved out of here.”
“If Eva stays, all men will be a target,” Eliawen insisted. “It will feast on them until it is stronger than Eva. Whatever power she has, she has not been trained to control it.”
I held up my hands before anyone said anything else. “This isn’t a choice. They’re right—I have to go with them.”
“I cannot leave my men,” my father said.
“No you can’t,” I agreed, and I felt the old bitter bile rising up again, as if I was ten years old and he was give me that lecture about duties and responsibilities and how he had to go far away, but he would always love me.
“Nor will I abandon you to these…these people and this apparition!”
I shrugged, though it was a hard thing to do. “You’ve abandoned me once before. You’re an old hand at it.”
“Eva,” Aerik’s voice cut into the silence that followed.
My face burned, but I would stand my ground all the same.
“I will go,” Sir Aros said. “Captain Crowndan is an honorable man; he is perfectly capable of standing in my place.”
It took a moment, but my father nodded reluctantly.
I went out a breath I didn’t know I had held in. That was it, then? That was all he could afford me? But then again, why would I think that his attitude would be different for a seventeen-year-old when he so easily left a ten-year-old?
Crowndan looked ready to object, but Father spoke first. “I will do it,” he replied. “But I will have to write to the Emperor explaining the situation.”
“The Emperor cannot know,” Dalandaras insisted.
“Relax, Prince,” my father replied. “I will not provide details, but something must be mentioned.”
“Say that it is urgent elf business, no more.”
My father nodded. I watched him, waiting for some type of acknowledgment, but he would not look me in the eye.
“Don’t think you are going anywhere without me,” Aerik added. “Your mother would never forgive me.”
I tore my eyes away from my father. “Your arm is fractured,” I pointed out. “I don’t want you hurt any more on my behalf.”
“I’ve been hurt worse.”
There was some sort of silent exchange between Dalandaras and Lorandal. “I might be able to help with the arm,” Lorandal said.
“Then we leave by noon,” Dalandaras said. “We’ve wasted enough time talking.”
Everyone took it as a dismissal. Crowndan was the only one who managed to remember to bow, before everyone filed out. I stood, already creating a list in my mind of what was absolutely essential on a journey, and what I was willing to carry for however long this journey would take. I had yearned to leave this place, to leave my father behind and abandon him as he abandoned me. But now the old bitterness welled up.
“Eva, one thing,” my father said quietly.
I bit my tongue before I said something very rash. Aerik glanced back, hesitating slightly, but a nod from my father sent him out, the door shutting behind him. They had spoken about something while I was asleep.
“What is it?” I asked.
“What did you mean,” he spoke hesitantly, as if he was afraid to ask it. “When you said that it’s ‘not fair’?”
“When did I say that?”
“In the ruins, to the apparition.”
I remembered my mother again, the confusion I had felt. A trick of the apparition, or truly her spirit? I couldn’t decide. Had Father or Aerik seen something? But if they had seen my mother like I had, surely they would have said something?
“You were shaking so badly.”
“It…it was just stronger than I thought it was. I had stopped it before; it took me by surprise this time.”
He nodded. “It is perhaps a good thing, then, to go with the elves.”
“The choice is that, or die.”
“It seems unreal.”
“It’s magic. As Lorandal said, we humans don’t have much of it in us.”
We fell into silence, and I turned to leave.
“I am…” Father said, and I froze. Was he…what? Sorry? For a moment, my heart hoped. “I would that I could go with you,” he said instead. “You’re my heir, and I should be there.”
I shrugged, but his words stung. “I didn’t even recognize you when I came up here, I stepped out of the carriage and would have pinned Sir Aros as Lord Governor had you not been standing at the head of the welcoming party. You left Mother and I seven years ago. Not going with me now is trivial. It is nothing.” I meant the words, but did not feel them in my heart.
There was the faintest, distant rumbling. It grew until we could feel it in the air, and the roar filled our ears.
We went to the window. The panes trembled so much that the frost fell from the glass. Father pushed it open, and a cold breeze skimmed our faces. In the distance, in the mountain range, rose a cloud of dust and snow. It expanded outward into the sky, curling around the surrounding mountain peaks. Beneath us, the floor of the Fort trembled.
The ruins, and the mountains above them, had collapsed.
CHAPTER SIX
Sir Aros ran back in as we rushed out.
“Evacuate the mines,” Father ordered. “Pull everyone in, put the Fort on alert.”
Sir Aros rushed out again without a backward glance.
“I must go,” I said, and brushed by him. “I’ve survived this long without you, I’ll take care of this without you too.”
I left, passing the elves and a worried Zarah without meeting their eyes. Aerik and Crowndan had disappeared; it was a small relief to not have to deal with either of them. I went to my room and packed, taking only what I could fit into my rucksack—warm clothing I could layer, gloves, a sewing kit, my smaller tools. Should I bring rope and climbing hooks, or would the elves have those? Would I even need them? And I’d have to get rations from the quartermaster. How far would we be traveling? And why couldn’t my father come and fight for his only child?
I shook that thought from my head. It shouldn’t have mattered after so many years.
Dalandaras had said that a blade could be of some use. I knelt in front of the chest and unfolded my clothes. I pulled out a straight-bladed cutlass, with a plain metal basket hilt and leather scabbard. Dauntless had been my mother’s, and the hilt and throat were decorated with her scallop shell.
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