Glashar and Dathiem had their bows in hand, aiming for the stallions. The Rakhai put their hands out, blocking the arrows.
Yamier and Wekin crouched at the edge of the bushes, watching the plain of grass that led toward the waters. “We can’t go any farther,” Wekin shouted in panic. “We are trapped by the sea!”
“Keep going!” Zhane stood alone in the center of the bushes. He raised his bow, shaking his dark hair back as he let a white arrow fly.
A lightning bolt shot across the sky as the Rakhai received their black-light swords. Red-eyed, black horses galloped across the blades as if trapped behind the steel.
Two Monrages sprung down from their mounts with surprising agility, their black robes streaming behind them as they ran toward Eliesmore. Where is the Green Stone? The voice was in his head. Again. How? He grabbed his head as if that motion would drive the voices away. Where is the Green Stone?
“No. Stop!” Optimistic shouted with more fear than force in his tone.
Ellagine hurled a green light at the Monrage, giving Optimistic the freedom to run.
Eliesmore gasped as the Rakhai’s command became stronger. For a moment, the world went black and spinning. Eliesmore struggled for breath as he tripped over a bush and went sprawling head first into the plain of grass. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see two Monrages approaching him. In a last effort, Eliesmore reached a hand over his shoulder and yanked his sword free. He swung, meeting the Monrage’s black-light-sword in a blow that jarred his arm. He bit back a cry of pain and stumbled back, crying “Nehíthermal!”
The Iaen word had some power in it. The Monrage snarled, and Eliesmore saw a black crown growing on her head. His heart melted with fear. Before he gave into it, he jumped up and hit at the crown with his sword. The Monrage dropped her sword, and her hand came up; her fist punched his head. White light exploded as pain shot through his face, and he crumbled backward into the bushes, waiting for the spots to disappear.
“Ìal iál, the Sea,” Dathiem cried.
Eliesmore struggled up, noting the Monrages appeared to have left him alone. Ellagine and Optimistic were ahead of him while Zhane strode through the bushes with a sword in hand. “Eliesmore.” He reached out a hand, helping him up.
“We can’t cross the Sea!” Yamier shouted.
“We’re trapped,” screamed Wekin.
“What do we do?” called Dathiem.
“Don’t stop; just run!” Arldrine shouted back.
Eliesmore dodged the Rakhai’s horses and sprinted for the shore, feeling them overtake him as he ran. One leaned down to grab him, and he felt a blanket of heat reach out to smother him. “Harbfigula,” the Rakhai called.
Eliesmore recognized the word; his memory was slow to remind him he’d heard it before during his journey through the Sandg Sizge Hills. It was part of the call the Dark One sent forth, twisting his desires in a dark message. Eliesmore slowed, an odd ache settling under his bones. He turned to face the Rakhai, walking backward as their true nature was revealed. At first, he saw their white and black faces; they were gaunt as they morphed and shifted. He found himself standing in a meadow, watching as Ellagine strode toward him. Only, there were eleven of her; she was replicated. As they grew closer, he realized the Green Ladies weren't Ellagine, although they were similar in appearance. Their faces had the same curve; their noses were long and sharp while their high cheekbones and oval faces matched Ellagine’s. It was uncanny how alike they looked. It was as if someone had taken one person and copied her over and over again. Their lips were thin and trembled as they opened their mouths, gaping black holes, and began to speak. Blue eyes clouded over, turning black with slits of red amber glowing like coals while their hair changed from blonde to brown to black. Shadows appeared behind them, rising and following as they moved. Tiny white horns poked out of their heads. They were quickly covered by the black crowns that grew over the horns. An arrow flew toward Eliesmore’s heart, and even in his condition, he automatically lifted his sword, blocking it. Black-light flashed, jarring him out of the trance.
It was Ellagine who noticed him lagging behind. “Ilidifwthien, reihtrufidil.” Her sword appeared in a flash of green, and she turned to face the Rakhai, commanding Eliesmore in the Iaen tongue. “Eliesmore, mocteo etomoc fatverivóg govírevatfi.”
Eliesmore ran. Behind him, the Rakhai screamed. They had slowed down when Eliesmore had stopped. Now they galloped forward at full speed; they were so fast that Eliesmore feared he would be crushed under their hooves.
“Fatverivóg govírevatfi,” Ellagine cried.
Her very words drove him on, but before them lay the sea. The Rakhai screamed and then spread out, heading toward the boats and cutting off those who ran toward the sea.
“Head for the boats,” Arldrine shouted to those who had already reached the shores.
“But the Rakhai,” Wekin protested.
“Goidíler, relídiog, go!” ordered Idrithar, who had stopped to use his powers against the Monrages.
“They won’t follow us into the water,” Visra reasoned as she hovered above the waves.
“I see a boulder out in the sea; swim to it!” Glashar ordered.
Splash after splash was heard; Glashar, Yamier, Wekin, Dathiem, and Arldrine jumped.
The sea loomed closer to Eliesmore, yet he felt he couldn’t make it. Optimistic and Idrithar dived in. Eliesmore’s shoulder felt like it was on fire; he was having trouble breathing on account of the heat coming from the Rakhai. Ellagine and Zhane ran out into the sea and then turned to wait for him. Eliesmore ran; a Monrage reached for him, just barely touching the hood of his cloak. Eliesmore jumped into the sea. Zhane caught him, steadying him, and they swam toward the three boats.
A cry rose up from the Rakhai, and they raised their hands, tossing balls of black-light. An explosion rippled across the sea; a wave surged, over ten feet tall, as the boats exploded. Splinters of wood shot through the air like arrows, hurling toward the company right before the wave crashed over them and black-light buried them under water.
Eliesmore felt the fire ignite across his body, shaking him. He could not see or breathe. He struggled in the darkness; his splashing grew weaker as he kicked and fought for the surface. Even with his eyes shut, he saw the faces of the Rakhai shift from green to black. A wild dread overcame him. A dark question rose; it was a question he dared not ask. A question that had an answer he dreaded.
A hand yanked his cloak, pulling him to the surface. His lungs burned as he coughed and spit, frantically flailing his arms. Zhane pulled him up on a boulder where his companions lay, nursing their wounds and watching their voyage to the west disintegrate.
“How many are hurt?” Eliesmore heard Idrithar ask.
“Yamier, Wekin, Optimistic, Arldrine, Visra, and Eliesmore,” Dathiem replied.
“The Rakhai are still on shore,” whispered Glashar. “Their horses are rearing with anger. There they go now. Six go one way, and five go the other way. They are galloping on opposite sides of the shore.”
“Where do we go now? What do we do?” Dathiem touched each individual, calculating the severity of their wounds.
“The Rakhai should be going to find other means of crossing the Sea, but they will look for us,” Zhane warned.
“If we go to Shimla, we will be safe,” Ellagine spoke up. “We must wait until sunrise. We can rest, heal, and build new boats.”
“We will do that,” Idrithar said soberly.
“I must set to work healing them,” said Dathiem, “for we do not want the power to set in…”
That was the last Eliesmore heard before the blackness took him.
51
Zhane
“We have to stop it from taking effect,” Dathiem said, urgency causing his voice to swell. He perched on the rock, reaching his nimble fingers to touch each of the wounded.
Salt stung Zhane’s eyes as he watched, feeling useless. The Rakhai were gone. They were alone.
“Idrithar. Ellag
ine. I need your help,” Dathiem went on.
Zhane caught the grief in Glashar’s eyes as she realized she was useless. He saw the golden gleam hovering over her fists. Powerless.
Ellagine reached out a hand, water dripping from her sleeve and pebbling on the rock. She placed it on Dathiem’s shoulder and took a deep breath. Green light traveled from her fingertips, thrumming into Dathiem’s body as Zhane watched. Idrithar moved to Dathiem’s right side, lifting a hand and sending currents of blue light flowing through Dathiem.
Although he had not seen it before, Zhane understood. Ellagine and Idrithar were not gifted with healing powers, but the transfer they gave Dathiem would momentarily increase his abilities.
Waves churned, splashing on the rock. When the tide came, they would be buried; they needed to make for the shore. Already he was thinking of the tools he needed to build boats; it would take far too long, even if they worked without stopping.
Dathiem reached for Arldrine, laying hands on her head. She didn’t move, but her breathing became even. Zhane blinked. He watched as the quest and their fates dissolved into helplessness. They had tried, yet the east was reluctant to give them up.
Dathiem caught Zhane’s eyes as he finished. There was a strange light on his face as the effects of the surge of power overcame him. “They will be fine. They must be fine,” he repeated as if he did not believe himself.
Idrithar bowed his head. Ellagine collapsed on the rock, turning pale.
“We have to go,” Glashar called. “We have to swim. We have to carry them.”
Zhane looked to the west where the glimmer of a sunset shot across the sky. He knew with certainty that they were all going to die.
52
Sarhorr
Year 783 (160 Years Ago). Castle Range.
“You have to leave,” he told her as they walked through the woods near Werivment. “If they find out there is a child, they will suffer us no peace.”
She leaned against a tree for support as she weighed his words. He listened to the rush of the waters where the seven rivers met as he waited. “You speak the truth,” she said at last. The words fell reluctantly from her lips, like the last leaves of fall drifting to the forest floor. “Come with me. We will start fresh.”
“No.” He exhaled, refusing to let the fog of pleasure cloud his judgment. “They will hunt me to the ends of the world, and our child will be endangered. What if they kill it before it gains full strength? No, it must be protected.”
Flashes of anger rippled over her face. Her eyes narrowed. “This was your plan all along. You wanted to send me and the child away. Why are you doing this?”
Green light shimmered across her body, growing brighter in the midst of her anger. It was beautiful. Part of him wanted to rip out her heart and consume her power before she could say another word against him.
“You know I am right.”
“That is what infuriates me!” She growled, flinging herself at him.
For a moment, she looked like a panther with its claws out, ready to rip him to shreds. Just as soon as her anger appeared, it dissipated, and he heard a hollow gong as the bond they’d shared evaporated.
“Where should I take this child? This child you have determined not to love?”
“Take her back to the Green People, and when it is time, find me.”
“Where will you be?”
“I will build us a kingdom our child shall rule while we continue our search for the Green Stone.”
She studied him. “The child will be female. She will be strong. She will be powerful.”
He caught glimpses of the future as she touched his face.
“Blood of my blood. What should we name her?”
He waited—giving her time to give him a name, hoping she would reveal hers, knowing she never would. Instead, she would walk away with his child and the secrets in her journal locked in her mind.
“She will be called Magdela.”
“Magdela,” he echoed.
53
Ellagine
Fields of clover. Hues of burnt orange. Cinnamon apples. Pungent flavors cut through the light tang in the air: a blend of tart sorrow and sweet hope.
“Ellagine.” Eliesmore’s sleep-smeared voice punched her thoughts.
She angled her body toward him, leaning on one arm as a smile caressed her cheeks. “Eliesmore.” She enjoyed the way the syllables of his name sounded on her tongue; she almost said it again, but she checked herself. “How are you feeling?”
He rubbed his eyes and suppressed a yawn with his hand as his brow wrinkled in confusion. “Where are we? What happened?”
His green eyes darted across the glade as if he expected the Rakhai to sweep in and murder them where they sat. She almost laughed at the absurd thought.
“We are in Rashla, in Shimla. After the attack,” she felt fury rising up at the mere thought, “we came here. I thought this place did not exist anymore. It does, and we are safe. For the time being.”
“Oh.” Eliesmore reached for his Jeweled Sword, laying it across his lap as if it would protect him.
“There is nothing to fear.” Ellagine wanted to reach out and comfort him, yet a thought stayed her hand. “You were wounded; most of us were in some way. We came here to heal and build boats. Idrithar, Zhane, and Dathiem have been working night and day since we arrived. We lost everything on the shore; this time we will be prepared.”
He relaxed, his finger running over the jewels on his sword's hilt. “Are the others safe?”
Ellagine pointed north. “A river lies that way; that is where the boats are being built. You’ll find Optimistic, Arldrine, Yamier, and Wekin there from time to time. They work in shifts, either building or hunting. Yamier will cook for us later; you must be hungry.”
“A little,” he agreed. “What about you?”
His wide, emerald eyes met hers. She gave him a warm smile, watching the shades of green reflected in his gaze. Did he know his eyes matched the Green Stone? Did he know he was a Jeweled One? “What about me?”
“How are you?”
Ellagine recoiled, unable to keep the surprise from her face. It was the first time Eliesmore had asked her a personal question. She found herself unsure how to react. “I slept. I healed. See?” Reaching out her arm, she let the green light shimmer and ripple across it.
Eliesmore did not seem impressed. His eyes returned to her face. “I was thinking; I don’t know very much about you.”
This time Ellagine threw back her head and laughed. “Eliesmore, what a thing to say. What do you mean?”
His face flushed, and his ears turned a bright pink. “I mean.” He stumbled over words. “I know. Of course, I know. I just. I meant. I don’t know anything about your life before this. Aside from traveling to the fortress, what did you do? What was it like growing up in Shimla?”
Ellagine felt her guard come up, and her expression grew flat and passive. Why should he be curious about her past, her history, and her story? Especially now? Did the Rakhai say something to alert him? She kept the smile on her face, hoping he would not notice her inner stillness. “You know what it was like to sing and dance with the creatures of the wood. It was like that.”
He shrugged, fidgeting with his sword. “Yes, I recall those glorious nights. What of your family? I had my mother. Who did you have?”
“I had…” She stopped, meeting Eliesmore’s inquisitive gaze. “You really don’t remember, do you?”
“Remember what?”
“It is no matter. Here. Have some mocholeach as you go down to the waterfall. The others will be glad to find you awake.”
“Mocholeach?” Eliesmore accepted the leaf and nibbled at the edges. “Isn’t this the legendary plant the Five Warriors stole?”
Ellagine stood, smoothing her dress and enjoying the weight of her long hair as it warmed her back. “When the Green People migrated to the South World, they replanted the gardens of old. I believe this is the only place where mocholeach,
among other rare plants, can be found.”
Eliesmore walked beside her; he was full of questions as they headed to a path in the bright wood. “Are the rare plants the reason why you thought this place did not exist?”
“When my parents were banished, they lived beyond the waterfall. I thought…” She brushed the memories away. “Never mind, Eliesmore. I have many tales for your ears when you are older.”
“I don’t like it when you keep things from me,” he muttered.
She almost laughed at his stubbornness.
The woods ended in the middle of a hill that had green shoots and mud rolling into a river. A waterfall thundered down the side of a mountain, creating the riverbed, which swelled with pride before it relaxed and turned into a gentle creek as it threaded its way through the land. Sapling trees and gray boulders lined the river that was scattered with leaves and rocks. Schools of silver fish wiggled through the water; their clusters were only broken by exotic goldfish. On the shore sat three boats made out of brown birch. Idrithar and Zhane were sanding down one while Dathiem and Arldrine worked on another. Wekin was carving a third while Yamier and Optimistic helped.
“Oh.” Eliesmore reached out, his hand brushing her bare arm. “It is wondrous.”
Ellagine shivered at the slight contact; she took a step away from him. “This land is untouched as if evil did not exist. I’d thought everything had been ruined when the Rakhai swept through. Now it seems there is something left. Eliesmore, when you complete your quest, the world shall rejoice.”
Eliesmore grew quiet, chewing his lip. She could see that his inner thoughts were at war with each other. At times, she questioned whether he was as invested in his quest as she was or as they all were. He had the least to lose and the most to gain, yet he treated it as a duty. He had never been excited to be the One; he did not desire it, unlike some. She supposed that was why it was him. Although he was a Blended One, he was pure. There was a reason he had grown up away from other White Steeds and away from the fortress. He was lonely on the edge of Shimla. She could only hope it would be the reason why he stayed and not his undoing.
Eliesmore and the Green Stone Page 28