“You did what?” Wekin rocked forward on his knees. “Tell me about it!” he demanded.
Optimistic, who had been looking off north, turned back to their conversation. “I’ve been curious about this as well. Eliesmore, the Iaens will not permit anyone to enter their wood, much less dance with them. How did it happen?”
Eliesmore smiled. Here was one secret and one advantage he had over the others. “It used to happen each night,” he began, eyes glowing as he leaned forward. He described for Wekin and Optimistic the gathering of animals on the hill and the trail to the forest. Yamier joined when he explained in great detail the Iaens and the enchanting music they played. It seemed a dream of long ago, and he wished with all his heart he could be back in the middle of glory. Words fell flat, and he was unable to convey the sensation of life it gifted him. When he finished, he sat back, and the joy evaporated from his face.
“And now they are gone,” Wekin burst out in dejection. “No more to song and dance.”
Optimistic patted him on the shoulder. “At least we have three of them with us; maybe they will restore the glory days.”
Idrithar cleared his throat behind them. “Come now. We need to eat so we can move on.”
“Move on?” Yamier’s mouth dropped open, and he stared from Idrithar to the fire.
“What? We just stopped,” Wekin spluttered, recovering his tongue much faster than Yamier did. “We don’t even get to sleep?”
Idrithar leaned on his walking staff, weary for a moment. “Yamier, I know the Mermis packed a special meal for this moment. It should be done cooking. Put out the fire and serve it so we can leave.” With that statement, he turned and walked away.
Wekin turned to Eliesmore; his dark blue eyes were wide. “Can you believe it? He wants to go!”
Optimistic burst out laughing, rocking back and forth.
Eliesmore shrugged. “On my way to the fortress, we ran all day and half the night. Even then, we got up early to run on.”
“What?” Wekin sat back, fanning himself. “Weren’t you tired?”
Eliesmore frowned. “Yes, the Rakhai were hunting us though; we had to keep going.”
“Eh?” Wekin grunted. “I did not sign up for all this traveling with no sleep. I need my rest. Do you think Idrithar will recant?”
“Wekin.” Optimistic snorted. “You can’t be serious! This is a quest. Please don’t ask Idrithar; he’ll make you go back.”
Wekin huffed. “I suppose. Optimistic, you should have explained what this quest involved.”
“Would you have changed your mind?” Optimistic grinned as he stood, dusting off his pants.
“No…” Wekin jumped up. “At least we get to eat, aye, Optimistic?”
Yamier kicked over the fire and smothered it with the grass. Using a stick, he dug out what he’d been cooking and began to hand food out. As if a bell had sounded, the rest of the company began to gather, lining up behind Yamier’s fire as he handed a parcel to each one. Optimistic walked over to Eliesmore, holding two flat leaves with what looked like a loaf of round bread. He held out one to Eliesmore. “Oh, I’m not hungry.” Eliesmore waved it away.
Optimistic raised an eyebrow before sticking the bread right under Eliesmore’s nose. “Smell that? How about now?”
Despite himself, his mouth watered as he smelled the yeast on the bread and the heavy tang of meat and vegetables. He opened the leaf and bit into the bread. It melted in his mouth, and a few drops of gravy dribbled down his chin. He took another bite into carrots and beef, humming in satisfaction. He hadn’t realized his eyes were closed until he opened them and saw Visra smirking down at him. His throat grew dry, and his hunger faded.
“Visra, join us.” Optimistic waved his hand. “Eliesmore, have you been introduced to Visra yet?”
Eliesmore choked and coughed. How could Optimistic be so warm with the terrible Jesnidrain? “We’ve met,” he croaked out.
“Yes, this morning in fact,” Visra confirmed. Lifting her stuffed bread, she took an enormous bite, her cheeks bulging as she chomped down her meal.
“Relish it, Visra.” Optimistic laughed at her. “You can’t be that hungry.”
Visra crossed her ankles. “Starving. Whatever we ate for the first meal was rubbish.” She pointed to Eliesmore, talking with her mouth full. “Optimistic, I think your friend is frightened of me.”
Optimistic jerked his blond head to Eliesmore. “How come? Oh, Visra, did you try to frighten him? You know you shouldn’t greet people like that. Eliesmore, I promise she’s harmless.”
Eliesmore could not tear his eyes away from Visra’s pointed teeth and the way her dark eyes glared at him. They were cold. How come Optimistic couldn’t see that?
“Tell him my story,” Visra suggested to Optimistic, sticking her chin out at him. A chunk of meat got stuck in her teeth, and she reached a finger in, yanking it out and inspecting it before popping it back into her mouth.
Optimistic had the decency to look slightly uncomfortable. He turned to Eliesmore as if Visra did not exist. “Visra used to be an assassin before the Idrains caught her. They took her powers away from her as punishment before letting her walk free. She has roamed the forests between Shimla and the fortress in Sanga San, waiting for you, I suppose. We have all been waiting for you, Eliesmore.”
“Now you know.” Visra grinned suddenly and spread her hands. “Are you going to eat that?” She pointed at Eliesmore’s half-eaten meal.
“Visra,” Optimistic warned. “Yamier has more if you are hungry.”
Visra glanced toward Yamier, who was eating with Wekin and Arldrine. “I think not. Optimistic, did you bring me more songs?”
Optimistic’s face reddened, but Eliesmore noticed the light in his eyes. “Err…no. We should write one about our journey.”
“I would like that,” Visra said, and for the first time, Eliesmore saw a softness in her eyes. That must be what Optimistic saw.
“We are writing a book of songs together,” Optimistic confided to Eliesmore. “But, please, don’t tell anyone. They’d laugh.”
“Who would laugh?” Eliesmore smiled. He was happy to be confided in. “I think present company would be impressed.”
Optimistic ducked his head and continued to smile, just as a piercing whistle split the air. “Prepare to travel!” Idrithar called.
Visra jumped as if she’d been burned. Spreading her wings, she strode away without another word.
“Don’t worry about her,” Optimistic said, noticing Eliesmore’s shudder as he watched her. “She’s harmless.”
Yamier and Wekin walked up to them, tugging their packs onto their backs. “I already miss the Mermis.” Yamier pouted.
“You can go back to the fortress.” Wekin nudged him. “And miss out on the adventure and lack of sleep.” He narrowed his eyes in Idrithar’s direction.
Zhane walked by. He paused when he saw Wekin’s map. “We don’t need Wekin to get into trouble today,” he muttered, brushing away the map with his hands and covering the bare patch with grass.
“Zhane.” Eliesmore walked over to the tall Tider.
“Yes?”
“I never learned how to sword fight properly. Will you teach me?”
“Yes, along with Wekin and Yamier. We must all be able to fight well.” He looked ahead, and his eyes darkened. “We know not what lies ahead.”
As soon as Zhane finished speaking, they both heard a faraway howl. A deeper one sounded, vibrating across the ground and chilling Eliesmore as his eyes met Zhane’s. “Danger.” The word dropped from Zhane’s lips.
Eliesmore nodded at him, feeling a kinship toward the Tider as they shared a mutual feeling of endangerment. “We should go,” Eliesmore added. He felt his heartbeat quickening; the rigid stiffness was back. He never had a moment to relax or to bask in the enjoyment of the adventure. Turning, he snatched up his pack and fled toward the white horses. Flywinger trotted forward to meet him.
“To the horses. Now!” Dathiem stern
voice swept through the air, leaving no choice except obedience.
Eliesmore saw Arldrine ahead. She dived onto one of the horses and leaned over his neck, her legs curled up over the horses back. Her mount took the lead, hooves kicking up chunks of dirt as they fled over the rolling hills. For a moment, Eliesmore wished he were taller and faster. Flywinger nuzzled his shoulder and knelt, allowing Eliesmore to mount with ease. “Thank you,” he breathed, watching Flywinger’s ears twitch.
Behind him, he heard Wekin cry, “Wait for us! We can’t get on the horses quite as fast as you can.” There was a clear note of fear zinging through his voice.
Eliesmore turned as Flywinger rose beneath him. He watched Zhane give Wekin a leg up and Dathiem toss Yamier onto a horse before they ran to their own mounts. No sooner had the company set off when they heard two more howls, one right after the other. Their screams were closer to the Green Company. Fastshed and his herd did not waste any time. Refreshed, their legs surged forward, turning from a canter into a full gallop. Like a strong wind in a storm, they skimmed through the grass with the horses’ hooves touching the ground for mere seconds. As they traveled farther, Eliesmore began to relax. The way the horses were running reminded him of a song Optimistic has sung their first night of travel. It was a time which seemed so long ago. The words: “here we go like falling thunder” seemed quite relevant to the way the horse hooves pounded the ground, knocking the grass flat. They galloped for a while as the night turned black; the stars were hidden by clouds. The moon came sulkily out to watch the goings down below, yet it often hid behind clouds. From far above, those down below looked like white shadows hastily covering the ground.
35
Eliesmore
Much later, perhaps toward the midnight hour, Eliesmore saw Glashar, who was riding near him, turn back. A ray of moonlight caught her face, showing him her wide eyes. Twining his fingers through Flywinger’s mane, he dared a glimpse back, yet his eyes saw nothing. Glashar rose on her mount, shouting in the Iaen language: “Ti hítíer retítíh fatverívóg govírevatfi.”
The horses slowed down and circled, prancing in place and giving their riders a moment to convene. “What do you see out there Glashar?” Idrithar asked, taking charge of the situation.
“They are coming,” she said, her voice falling into the shadows of the night.
No one asked who or what was coming. A sinking dread filled Eliesmore. He knew. “We ride northwest!” Idrithar ordered. Fastshed led the way across the wild lands; his company reared and leaped with ferocity behind him. The grass grew shorter beneath their hooves; trees and bushes dotted the landscape, creating obstacles to gallop around.
Eliesmore shut his eyes, hesitant to believe the Rakhai were there. Where had they come from? How had they found the Green Company so quickly? Hadn’t the Mermis cloaked their journey in secrecy? He closed his eyes, feeling the wind rush across his face. Turning his neck, he opened them.
At first, he saw nothing except the silvery shadows of night. Relief flooded through his body, and just as he turned away, one of the shadows leaped. He saw it clearly in a beam of moonlight: a black creature, much like a panther. It kept pace with the horses, although its body was low to the ground. Eliesmore could see the creature leaping over bushes without a thought, yet it was the being on top of the panther that made his heart grow cold. The Monrages had returned, silently surrounding the Green Company on the red-eyed creatures. Eliesmore tore his eyes away, unsure what to do. Should he warn the others? Could they see their doom at their feet, running beside them?
Ahead of him, Eliesmore saw one of the panthers leap, claws out, as it swiped at one of the horses. Flywinger whined in fear and changed course, jumping over a bush and gaining speed. In a blur, Eliesmore saw the other horses spreading out, attempting to escape. A howl echoed through the night behind him, and a horse crashed into the underbrush, screaming in fear and possibly pain. Eliesmore dropped one hand to his sword hilt, losing his balance as Flywinger jumped over shrubbery. Eliesmore bounced like a bag of potatoes. One hand gripped the Jeweled Sword. He drew it just as Flywinger ran under the low-hanging branch of a tree. Pain shot through his face as the branch lashed him, forcing drops of blood to drip from his head. Using the back of his sword hand, he brushed it out of his eyes and raised his sword. He could hear Flywinger laboring as he dashed toward the trees. Glashar was standing in the entrance of the wood with the white horse she had been riding. They looked like a formidable pair because Glashar was glowing gold with fury. She lifted her bow and sent a white arrow flying through the air toward one of the black panthers.
Flywinger slowed down as if he were growing tired. When Eliesmore leaned forward to urge him onward, he saw one of the Monrages riding alongside him. She gave him a dark grin as their eyes met and reached for him, a wasted hand calling for him. Fear bloomed brightly in his heart as he slashed at her hand with his sword. A shock reverberated through his body as he made contact and was hurled through the air. Eliesmore lost his breath for a moment as he landed, only to be dragged up and back. “It’s okay Eliesmore,” Arldrine’s voice assured him. “It’s just me.” He stopped flailing as he allowed her to help him stand. She met his eyes for a brief second and pushed him backward, leaping in front of him as she reached for another arrow.
Eliesmore held his sword gingerly, ducking as Arldrine let loose an arrow, even though he was behind her. In front of them, Zhane was on the ground, dodging the attack from one of the Rakhai on her beast, his sword flashing in the brief glimpse of light. He was quick with his sword and fast with his feet. All the same, Arldrine took aim. She let loose an arrow that sank into the beast Zhane was fighting. The panther snarled, baring its teeth, and merely continued to fight.
Dathiem was nowhere near the forest, and Eliesmore noted most of the Rakhai were between Dathiem and the Green Company. Dathiem was running, pausing to send arrows that shot the life out of some of the creatures. Eliesmore counted as he watched, his heart flip-flopping as he realized he could only see five of the Rakhai. Where were the others?
“Eliesmore!” Arldrine jolted him back to the present moment. “Get back into the forest out of sight.”
Eliesmore stumbled over branches as he obeyed, slamming his back against a tree truck. He paused, forcing himself to catch his breath. He held the Jeweled Sword in both hands, watching the sharp blade as he breathed. Fear danced on the edges of his vision, tempting him to run and reminding him he wasn’t old enough, experienced enough, or knowledgeable enough to be the One. His pulse pounded, and he could feel himself sweating. To distract himself, he peeked out from around the tree trunk to see how his companions were faring.
Zhane’s sword sliced through one of the panthers, ripping it from end to end. Its body fell open, and the innards spilled out on the ground. Eliesmore balked in horror at the violent action. His eyes were riveted to Zhane as he spun around and shouted something to Dathiem. Zhane turned toward the forest where Arldrine stood. She had an arrow in her bow yet no target in sight. That’s when Eliesmore noticed the Rakhai seemed to have disappeared, leaving only their monstrous creatures behind.
“Run!” Zhane was shouting as he bounded closer, the blood on his sword leaving a crimson path behind him.
Arldrine dropped her stance and ran toward Eliesmore, leaving Glashar to guard the forest while she waited for Dathiem to catch up. “Let’s go!” Arldrine shouted to Eliesmore, pointing farther into the wood.
Eliesmore leaped out of hiding and ran forward only to stumble to a stop as a Monrage rose in front of him. He could see her wasted face quite clearly. It was as if she’d been there all along, waiting for him to move. Again, he was taken aback by her uncanny resemblance to Ellagine, yet his thoughts did not tarry long as he saw a black crown grow on her head. Light shot out of it, aimed at Eliesmore, and out of reflex, he lifted his sword, blocking it. The Monrage gave a scream of anger and raised her hands, her fingers curling into a fist. One of Eliesmore’s hands flew to his heart as if someone w
ere draining his strength. He sank to the ground just as a black panther sprang out of the wood with a howl, leaping toward him.
A white arrow caught the panther in the throat, tossing it onto its back where it lay still. The Monrage shrieked and dashed away as Eliesmore gasped for air. Arldrine ran past him, dagger in hand, as she stood over the panther. In an instance, all was still in the wood aside from their heavy breathing.
“Where are the others?” Dathiem demanded as he ran up to them with Glashar and Zhane.
Arldrine reached out a hand and helped Eliesmore up. She jerked her chin west. “I believe they are on the other side of the wood.”
Glashar grabbed another arrow from her quiver. “Ial iál, something is wrong,” she whispered in two languages.
Eliesmore felt the sting of her words vibrate through his body, hastening his steps. They ran through the forest out into a glade where the moon shone down upon a battlefield. Blue fire flew from Idrithar’s fingers as he power fought the Monrages while Ellagine was nothing more than a queen of green fire, intensifying as she strode forward. Yamier and Wekin were backed into a corner by a panther who sprang and snarled at them, yet no one seemed to notice their predicament. Visra was laughing, a high-pitched whine that carried through the air while she fought, twirling and slashing in vain. Her sword moved too fast for the naked eye to grasp. It was the quiet whimper that made Eliesmore jump with his heart in his throat. A blond head was sprawled in the grass. One arm was lifted as if the person were begging for help. Dathiem ran toward the whimper with his pack in his hands; his bow and arrows were forgotten.
“Let’s cover them.” Arldrine motioned to Glashar, raising her bow.
Eliesmore and the Green Stone Page 19