Snow turned to rain, and the drifts changed to slush and mud, slick and slippery as they marched. A dark whisper echoed across the peaks; a chant drew nearer. Trouble. Trouble. Deep black evil. A chant Zhane hoped had been swallowed in the Holesmoles with the monsters of darkness. Trouble. Trouble. Deep black evil.
“Woísts!” Dathiem cried, his voice cutting clearly through the air.
“They are coming from the north,” Ellagine called.
Zhane cocked his head. “They haven’t seen us yet. Run,” he ordered, picking up the pace.
He led them through the muck as the night consumed them. He took them into the land with short yellow grass and scarce underbrush.
Trouble. Trouble. Deep black evil.
Trouble. Trouble. Deep black evil.
The chanting of the woísts drew dangerously close, forcing Zhane to draw his sword. They materialized out of the darkness; a battleax whirled past Zhane's head. "Draw your swords," he roared. He moved into the shadows as the armed creatures leaped in front of him, one after the other. He drove his sword into the underarm of one; he kicked another down into the snowdrifts. An arrow flew by; he assumed it was from Glashar.
As quickly as they had come, the creatures disappeared, as if they were called off by some invisible master. Zhane could still hear the army marching away, and he drew a cold breath. His muscles tightened.
Trouble. Trouble. Deep black evil.
Trouble. Trouble. Deep black evil.
As the chant faded, a cold shadow fell over Zhane, and he knew, even before he heard the rushing of a waterfall and led the company up the hidden path into the Green World. He knew, even as he touched their heads and counted them as he passed. Eliesmore and Optimistic. Yamier and Wekin. Dathiem and Glashar. Ellagine and Visra. He knew as he waited, his eyes widening as he looked back out. “Arldrine!” he shouted, letting his voice carry across the mountains. She wasn’t there. His chest heaved as he grabbed Ellagine’s shoulder. “Was she with us? Did she come with us?”
Ellagine’s face fell; all signs of her pale green glimmer were gone. “She’s gone, Zhane,” she whispered.
“No.” Zhane shook his head in disbelief. “No.”
“Zhane, come rest,” Dathiem called.
“I can’t!” Zhane snapped, a growing fury rising within him.
He walked back to the entrance, shielding his eyes as he looked back out the way they had come. He hoped to see her creeping through the mud, coming to join them. But he knew it was too late, she was already gone.
73
Zhane
Zhane stood above the waterfall, watching the water descend. It was a reminder, despite the unfortunate circumstances, that he had to be like the rushing waters; he had to move on. He cursed under his breath. He was still unable to believe Arldrine had disappeared from his life. He wanted to do right by her; he had meant to cherish and protect her, yet before he could make those vows, she had been ripped away. His fingers twitched. He needed to shed blood. He needed to fight.
“Zhane.” Dathiem strode up beside him, crossing his arms.
“You wouldn’t have any more wine by any chance?” Zhane asked, glancing at his friend.
Dathiem bit his tongue. “Nay. I wish we’d loaded a barrel to drag behind us as we marched. This day would not appear as bleak.”
Zhane nodded, wishing for the small comfort of a drink. “You and I have seen much good and evil.”
“Aye.” Dathiem reached out, clasping a hand on Zhane’s shoulder. “This is an unfortunate turn of events. We can go back and search…”
“I am tempted,” Zhane admitted. “We made a vow; we go forward. We are close to the Constel Heights.”
Dathiem dropped his hand. His eyes were drawn to the waters.
“Do you still think ill of the Iaen?” Zhane prompted.
Dathiem’s head snapped up, his dark eyes wide as a blush began to cover his cheeks. “The Iaen?”
“Yes, months ago when we started out you made dark allegations against them,” Zhane spread his hands as if it would jog Dathiem’s memory.
Dathiem pulled his long braid over his shoulder. Unlike Zhane, he’d never cut his hair. “You were right, Zhane; there is nothing to fear from them, especially now. They have lost their powers here in the west. I’d say Eliesmore is free from their designs.”
“Good.” Zhane gave a sigh of relief. “I hoped you would say as much. There is enough to deal with here without you going on a killing spree.”
“Those days are done.” Dathiem scowled.
“I am glad to hear those words from you,” Zhane repeated. He glanced down into the water again. “Let me sit here with my grief for a time; I must move past this before I am able to lead us on.”
Dathiem reached out, and the two shared a quick embrace.
“I am sorry, my friend,” Dathiem whispered.
74
Dathiem
Dathiem sat miserably on a rocky ledge. Below him, a waterfall poured down into one of the seven rivers that led to Oceantic. Green grass surrounded him with generous trees that reached to higher ledges. The air was pure and sweet; it was a beacon of balmy hope. He felt useless. The company had mourned, their voices blending in a wild lament, although none could share Zhane’s grief. The four Crons would miss their strong friend, yet no one would miss Idrithar and Arldrine like Zhane did. They were his closest and longest companions, aside from Dathiem.
Dathiem lifted his long braid to cut it off, knowing he should express his grief. In the tradition of a Tider, when a great calamity came, they cut their hair off as a sign of respect. He sighed, recalling the time he’d traveled with Zhane and Idrithar. They had been together at the Green World after bearing the cold of the mountains, and they had laughed when they found warmth, food, and good fortune. The world had been dark during those days; the One had not risen, but the Rakhai had not either. The Changers still ruled, and yet they found joy in their discoveries. Without warning, it was over. Joy was torn out of their grasp, and they were doomed to move on in secret and in sorrow.
The sound of a step brought Dathiem out of his brooding, dark thoughts. Glashar walked toward him. He opened his arms as he felt his heart expanding. When she was with him, everything felt pure, whole, and right. He did not know how to explain the intensity of his feelings for her, so he showed her instead.
“Glashar.” He inhaled her light scent, folding her fragile body into his arms and holding her tight.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself onto his lap until their faces were even.
“Don’t cut it off.” She touched his long braid. “I like your hair long.”
His lips caressed her cheek before he responded. “It is my right to honor those who are lost.”
“I understand.” Her jeweled eyes met his, allowing him to see the sadness behind them. “Dathiem, we could leave now. This quest is taking everything away from us. We can return east and build a life together.”
He took a deep breath, twining their fingers together. He was careful not to jar her injured shoulder. He’d noticed the shadow that came over her fair features; her golden glow had diminished. The Iaens were too far from home, and he could see the negative effects taking over. He pulled her closer, feeling her quick heartbeat.
“I can’t leave yet; Zhane has lost everything. We have not reached the Constel Heights. We are close.”
Glashar stiffened in his arms. “I felt like Zhane once,” she offered, “when the Rakhai came through the forests of Shimla and destroyed my home, killing everyone. I used all my powers to heal, leaving nothing but a shell of myself until I found you. Zhane will find himself again; he will find his hope.”
“Yes, I have no doubt, but we must stand with him. What kind of White Steeds would we be if we left?” Dathiem bent his head, letting their foreheads touch. “I admit, when I first met Eliesmore, I did not believe in him. After these months of travel, I’m beginning to see why he was chosen. He is not who I expected to be the One;
I think there is a reason why that is the case. He holds his own strength. Once we reach the Constel Heights and the Green Stone is dissolved, I will go with you wherever your heart desires.”
She kissed him hard. She pulled back to smile at him. “Then you don’t believe our love is cursed?”
He felt a brief flicker of fear and opened his mouth to tell her who he was and what he was. He changed his mind at the happy and hopeful expression on her face. “I care not what others may think, and I care not for curses.”
He parted her thighs with one hand before covering her mouth with his, feeling their passion heighten as they entwined.
75
Eliesmore
White sands stretched before them as the Green Company, only nine companions descended from the Cascade Mountain Range in the desert of Monoxie. They were close. With every footstep, Eliesmore expected to see the great stone towers of the Constel Heights. The air was dry. They were smothered in heat as they walked. The company was downcast with weary hearts. Months ago, they had set out. They had come through many dangers only to lose two companions in the end. It was heartbreaking. Even Eliesmore could not understand why his friends did not fall at the hands of the Rakhai. Were not the Rakhai sent by the Changers to hunt them down? Why did they stay their hand? What were they waiting for?
Yamier and Wekin trudged along without making remarks about bacon. It had been a while since they’d complained about the lack of food. The lack of water was a more pressing issue. Zhane had made them refill the water skins in the Green World until they had enough to last for two weeks; still, he did not seem pleased. As they walked through the desert, clothes wrapped around their nose and mouths, Eliesmore understood. His cloak seemed to shrink and grow thin against the heat, protecting his skin yet remaining light on his body, whereas it had turned into a thick fur during their journey through the mountains. Nevertheless, Eliesmore constantly found himself sweating and parched.
One day, as they were eating the second meal, Glashar lept up on a rock and stared east. “They are coming.” Her voice quivered with excitement.
Eliesmore turned. Glashar looked like a picture with her bow in one hand and the desert wind blowing her long, golden hair. “Who are?” He lifted his eyes to the sky, seeing only an endless canopy of blue.
“They are.” Glashar did not move. “Those sent from Spherical Land in the Western World. They will be here soon.”
“Do you see them?” Eliesmore questioned, searching the sky for a dark blur.
“No.” Glashar shook her head. “I just know; they will be here soon.”
“Did you hear?” Eliesmore called to his companions. “Help is coming. We will no longer have to fight alone.”
Zhane turned around. He had a bow in one hand and a lost expression on his face. He nodded and repeated, “They are coming.”
Glashar climbed down from the rock while Eliesmore took her place. “Listen,” he called to them. “Listen. I know this quest has been hard. I know each of you has given your all because this quest demands it from you. I, myself, did not know what it would take to bring us here, to the brink of salvation. All I ask is that you do not give up; do not lose hope right here at the end. Our hearts have been downcast, but we have to remember why we choose this path. We are the few and the brave. We are doing this not for ourselves, but for the greater good. I would see days of peace come to these lands, and I know you would, too. I refuse to believe we have come this far in vain. Let us not lose hope, not when we are this close to the end.”
Zhane spun to face Eliesmore, clasping a hand to his chest and then raising it. Dathiem moved beside him, following his example.
“Well said,” Zhane spoke, raising his bow. “Let's go. The Black Steeds await our presence in the Constel Heights.”
Optimistic clasped a hand on Eliesmore’s shoulder. “We do have good memories. But Eliesmore, this quest is only the beginning.”
Eliesmore shook his head as he glanced at Optimistic. This was the end.
The next day was the twenty-fifth of September. In the morning, they passed a stream and followed it until it dried up. Eliesmore fell in step with Optimistic and Visra, who winked at him. She walked flat-footed and had folded her wings away; Eliesmore had not seen her fly since her wing had been broken.
“Eliesmore, how do you find the desert?” She scooped up a handful of sand and let it flow through her fingers.
“Everything looks the same,” he shrugged. “I am grateful Zhane knows the way.”
“I will tell you what I think.” She made a disgusted face. “It is hot and terrible. And there is nothing to kill because the sun did all the work.”
“Visra,” Optimistic scolded, chuckling.
“You laugh.” She poked him in the ribs. “The Holesmoles were better. It was dark and cool with plenty of strange beasts to kill.” She shuddered even as she uttered the words.
“Visra, may I ask a question?” Eliesmore spoke tentatively.
“Oh.” She covered her mouth with her hand; her voice dripped with sarcasm. “You want to speak with me? I am honored.”
Eliesmore bit his lip. “I am serious,” he spoke earnestly. “I think you might be the only one who will speak honestly with me.”
“Ellagine will not answer your questions?” Visra wiggled her eyebrows, turning to steal an obvious glance at Ellagine.
“I…” He paused, scratching his head. He was flustered. “Never mind.”
“Oh, you can’t say no to me. I want to know. What is the question?” Visra placed her hands on her hips, grinning mischievously as she walked. “What is the question?” she asked again.
“I’m curious too.” Optimistic took her side. “Eliesmore, enlighten us.”
“I’ve heard it said that the bond between a mortal and immortal is forbidden. Why is that?” Eliesmore spewed out the question before he lost his resolve.
Visra raised her eyebrows, and her eyes were wide. “Humm…why? You have heard the tales of Magdela the Monrage and her rise to power?” Eliesmore and Optimistic nodded. “She ruled for 100 years, first as a White Steed and then, finally, as a Black Steed. She was the first Blended One to rise to power, and she was a Lady of the Green People. A Queen.” Visra held up her hands, imitating a crown. Her tone dropped lower. “She was odd though. She was only half Green Person; the other half was mortal. She had the blood of a Tider.” Visra shrugged. “Or so rumor says. She wasn’t evil at first, not when her rule began. It was only when she began to study the Great-Black-Evil that she became two-faced, destroying her reputation. When Magdela the Monrage turned on the Iaens, the elders rose up and weaved a powerful spell. They cursed the bond between a mortal and immortal, banishing the mortals from the inner circles of Shimla.”
“I don’t understand,” Eliesmore interrupted her. “Because one person made a terrible choice, the immortals decided to curse the bond between a mortal and immortal for eternity? It seems harsh. One cannot expect all Blended Ones nor all mortals and immortals to turn to evil ways.”
Visra arched her eyebrow as if she disagreed. “One cannot expect?” She gave a short laugh. “You would not do well standing trial before the old councils. They had no mercy. Glashar was one of them,” she mumbled under her breath.
“I think it was an excessive decision,” Eliesmore went on. “After all, Magdela the Monrage went to the Changers; she chose to study the Great-Black-Evil.”
“I know Iaens keep their names hidden for they are sacred,” Optimistic cut in. “But no one speaks the name of her parents. Who were they? Do you know?”
“Their names were hidden, forgotten, and erased.” Visra grinned. “This is dull talk; I can give you no more answers.”
“Thank you. It does help some, although it doesn’t make sense,” Eliesmore expressed his gratitude.
Visra held up a finger, stopping him. “It does make sense.” She grinned wickedly. “Haven’t you heard the warning? All immortals speak it at one time or another: beware the Green People. Th
ey are up to something.”
She walked away smirking, elbowing Yamier and Wekin apart as she joined them.
Eliesmore felt as if a sword of ice stabbed his heart. He took a deep breath, meeting Optimistic’s calm gaze.
“Don’t worry, Eliesmore,” Optimistic comforted him. “You can’t take everything Visra says word for word.”
“No, she is not the first one who has said such things. Optimistic, what if the Iaens are right? What if the Green People are up to something and we are too blind to see it?”
“Eliesmore, you cannot think like that. My parents were mortals like yours, and they spoke highly of the Green People and the time they spent with the Iaens. Think of the time you have spent with them. It is clear the old laws have fallen. Times have changed; the bonds between mortals and immortals are no longer cursed.”
Before Eliesmore could voice his disagreement, Glashar shouted, “We’re being followed. It looks like Fastshed and company.”
A cloud of white sand and dust rose up behind them. A solo, black bird flew south with a warning cry. As the nine horses broke out of the cloud of dust, the company stopped, their faces turning somber at what they saw.
“What happened to them?” Wekin was the first to speak.
“Do you think the Rakhai got them?” Yamier suggested. “We last saw them at the Cave of Disappearance with the bálangers.”
Eliesmore and the Green Stone Page 37