“Yes, that situation was dire, but it should not have changed their decision,” Optimistic protested.
“If they are willing, we will ride as far as we can on them,” Zhane told them. “Keep your lips sealed.”
Fastshed and company slowed their pace as they reached the company. They stretched their long necks down. Eliesmore marveled at the change that had come over them. Only two of the horses were shining bright white: Flywinger and the horse Arldrine used to ride that was called Goldwind. The others were light brown.
“The Black Horse Lords ride behind us,” Fastshed announced as he trotted up to Zhane.
“How far away?” Zhane asked.
“At least a day. They ride hard.” Fastshed’s dark eyes took in the size of the company. “Where is Idrithar?”
“Some of us have fallen.” Zhane bent his head. “May we ride?”
“Yes,” Fastshed affirmed.
Eliesmore walked to Flywinger, noting Optimistic walked to Goldwind. Dathiem helped the shorter ones mount up. Eliesmore saw Dathiem kiss Glashar before he turned to mount up. Clearly, they were not worried about the curse between mortals and immortals.
In spite of the horses being darker, Eliesmore enjoyed the ride. He had forgotten how freeing it felt to speed through the land with the wind at his back. He leaned down over Flywinger and said in his ear, “Can you talk as you run?”
“Some,” answered Flywinger. “What do you want to know?”
“What happened to you at the Cave of Disappearance?”
“We escaped. Ran past the Monrages.” Flywinger spoke unevenly between breaths. “What happened to you?”
“We went through the Holesmoles,” Eliesmore said.
“You did what?” Flywinger whinnied, slowing down from his fast gallop.
“Shh…don’t let the others know. We went through the Holesmoles, and it was horrible.” Eliesmore shuddered at the memory.
“We went over,” Flywinger went on. “The mountains were hard. The Black Horse Lords chased us. We had an argument about turning back. Fastshed and the others are losing belief in the White Steeds.”
“Oh,” sighed Eliesmore. “While they are with us, we must travel with all speed.”
Flywinger bent his neck as if to nod and quickened his pace to catch up with the others. Eliesmore held Flywinger’s mane and leaned into the gallop. Closing his eyes, he smiled as the breeze blew past him.
Sometime later, he opened his eyes and looked up at the dark blue sky with clouds lazily floating by. He looked back, and he could see a mass of darkness. Eliesmore shouted up to Zhane: “The woísts and Black Horse Lords are coming!”
“Full speed ahead.” Zhane waved them forward.
A hot wind blew as the horses galloped through the sand. They went until their feet were caked with sand and all eighteen of the travelers were hot and thirsty. At last, they came to a stream, and by that time, they could no longer see the black pack behind them. The horses plunged their noses into the water while the others slipped off the horses and drank.
When night darkened around them, they stopped for a quick reprieve. “Shouldn’t we continue?” Eliesmore asked.
“If you feel like it,” Dathiem answered.
“Let’s keep going,” Zhane confirmed.
They mounted back up, and though no one said it, they all were considering how long Fastshed and company would stay with them.
They galloped into the darkness of the night. The moon was hidden by clouds and the stars did not dare peek out. Eliesmore wondered if a storm was brewing because a fierce wind blew. It sometimes lifted the sand a few feet and scattered it back on the ground. It was annoying for the horses because they had to run with sand blowing against their legs. The wind made the air hotter, and Eliesmore began to feel out of sorts. He wished himself in a forest where the trees stretched their great leaves to cool the earth and strange enchanting shadows flitted through the trees. In a forest, one never knew what could happen; in a wide, desert plain, one could see everything.
The wind kept picking up, and by morning, Zhane shouted, “Lie down, cover your faces, and don’t move. A sand storm is coming!”
The company slid off the horses and threw themselves on the ground, covering themselves with their cloaks despite the heat. The wind was strong and blew sand everywhere.
The storm finally let up when it was close to the second meal. The Green Company stood, blinking sand out of their eyes and shaking their clothes. The desert was changed; it looked as if someone had come through and swept sand into mounds. Eliesmore looked around; he was confused. He couldn’t tell whether they were going backward or forward or to the left or right. He felt tired, hungry, dirty, and thirsty. He looked at Zhane for direction.
“Wekin, will you draw us a map?” Zhane asked.
Wekin groaned as he sat up. “I’d rather have food, water, and sleep,” he complained, but he traced a map of the western South World in the sand.
When Wekin finished his map, Zhane examined it. “You left out most of the streams and rivers.”
“Even those aren’t on the most detailed maps,” Wekin retorted indignantly.
Zhane stroked his chin as he considered their next steps. “Ahead there ought to be a river or a stream that we can follow the rest of the way to the Constel Heights. The other one we were following dried up long ago. Come on. We shall all walk to find the river.”
“Walk? And when shall we stop for rest?” Wekin exclaimed.
“At night of course,” replied Zhane and walked off.
“Night? But that’s a long way off!” protested Wekin.
“Not as long as you think, Wekin Cron,” Dathiem said as he followed Zhane.
“What about eating?” questioned Yamier.
“When we reach the stream,” Zhane called back.
Although the stream seemed to be just around the next mound of sand, it wasn’t. The companions walked on sore feet and tired hooves until nightfall. The stream appeared, winding through the sandy banks. They drank, refilled their water skins, and refreshed themselves before passing out to sleep.
The days blurred together, one after the other. Fastshed and company ran while the woísts and Black Horse Lords followed the Green Company. One day, Eliesmore woke to see seven of the nine horses were dark brown. The next moment, they were galloping east toward the prairie lands of Monoxie and the Jaded Sea. As they went, Eliesmore saw them turn black, and the word “traitors” hung in his mind. As he watched, a velvet nose bumped his shoulder. Flywinger stood behind him. “I’ll go with you, Eliesmore.”
“Thank you.” Eliesmore placed a hand on Flywinger’s nose. “I’m afraid it won’t help much now. Go ahead to the Constel Heights, and wait for me there.”
“I will meet you there,” Flywinger said and sprang away.
Eliesmore watched as Flywinger galloped away. Suddenly Goldwind was beside him. “I would like to join Flywinger,” she began. “But I will go see about the woísts. My mistress was with them last when she fell. I would like to know about it, with your leave.”
Eliesmore nodded. “You may go.”
“Thank you,” called Goldwind, and she, too, galloped off.
Eliesmore planted his feet and crossed his arms, feeling a scowl cross his brow.
“I saw them turn.” Zhane came up beside him.
“What happens now?” Eliesmore asked.
Zhane dropped a hand to his sword hilt. “We are five days from the Constel Heights. We will fight.”
76
Sarhorr
Year 797 (146 years ago). Daygone.
“You lied to me!” she accused, pressing a finger at into his chest. “You did not tell me who you were and what you were. You let me believe you had the same desires I had and now look at us. Look at her!”
They were in the tower. Below, on the ground, their daughter stood. She was a Changer. He could see her shifting, looking like a Green Person, then like a mortal, and finally like him: a blend of flesh and spirit. H
er power was strong; she would persuade many to follow her. Forcing his gaze away from Magdela he turned back to his former lover, Lady of the Green People. He slapped her hand away. He was annoyed with her anger and frustrated that she dared come to rebuke him instead of celebrating the life they had created together. Created. So, he was allowed to create children. Blood of my blood.
“I never lied to you,” he growled at her, determined to show her he was the alpha. This time they would play games according to his rules and not hers. Her time was over. “Perhaps you have always known who I am. What I am. What my name is. Yet you refused to reveal yours, forcing me to search for it. Yet I should have known all along exactly who you are.”
“You betrayed me.” Green light exploded around her. He could see the flames on her fingers reaching for his neck. It would be too easy to rip her open and to tussle with her as he drained her dry, ripping her strength from her bosom. “You betrayed my family.”
“You cannot be angry with me,” he bellowed. Her fury caused him to ignite. “I told you who I was. I told you of my crimes, yet you came willingly, tossing yourself at me and seducing me with knowledge of the Green Stone. Now I know who you are.”
She stopped. He’d struck a chord. His hand shot out, closing around her throat and squeezing. Her eyes narrowed as they gazed into his. Her eyes were as blue as the waves of Oceantic. Her feet kicked at him as he lifted her, holding her out over the highest tower. The wind nipped at her hair, blowing it around her face and allowing him to see the brown in it. He squeezed her throat, cutting off all air. Her fingers closed around his, unable to undo his iron grasp.
“I know who you are,” he repeated. And let go.
She dropped from his hands over the edge of the tower, falling into mist toward the rocks below. He watched with his eyes narrowed, waiting for the moment when his suspicions would be revealed. He would find out exactly who had been playing a game with him in his moment of weakness. No more. He cursed. No more.
Before her face hit the rocks, he saw the wings shoot out of her back, wings much like a Xctas. They had a span of six feet. With one beat of her wings, she was saved from death, and she rose. Green light furled from her body. She was spurred onward by the curling of her wings as she flew. She returned on the updraft of the air, coming back to the archway of his tower. She landed with her great wings still stretched out behind her.
“You.” Her finger jabbed out at him again as she caught her breath. Her face twisted. “Sarhorr,” she hissed his name.
“Shalidir,” he spat back.
77
Eliesmore
Zhane held out a hand for them to halt at the bottom of a grassy hill. It sloped upwards, and beyond it, Eliesmore could see a black flag, waving in the breeze.
“The castle lies just over the hill.” Zhane swung his pack down from his back and rolled it open.
“We are going in there, aren’t we?” Wekin asked, craning his neck to see more.
Zhane tossed waterskins into the grass. “No. Just Eliesmore and Optimistic.”
“You’re not coming with me?” Eliesmore managed to squeak out.
“No.” Steel clanged as Zhane unrolled a pack a sword hilts. They were replicas of the Jeweled Sword, and he stood, passing one to each of them. “We are the decoy. Confusion and stealth will help us. Put these over the hilt of your sword,” he instructed them. “They will fit. If we all carry the Jeweled Sword, the Black Steeds will not know whom to strike.”
Visra laughed. “They will know. They can smell power.”
Optimistic pulled out the Green Stone, shaking it out of the bag. “They can smell remnants of power. If we all hold the Green Stone, even for a moment, we can confuse them.”
Ellagine stepped back. “Go ahead,” she encouraged. “We Iaens do not need to touch it. They will not be looking for an immortal.”
“Listen.” Zhane focused on Eliesmore and Optimistic. “Keep your hoods up; the cloaks will give you limited invisibility. Go up this hill and across the meadow. You will see a courtyard with guards at the gate. Stay to the right and climb over the wall. If you see anyone look in your direction, stay still and stay low. Once you are in the courtyard, you will see a dark entrance. Enter and make an immediate left. Count thirty-six doors on your right and forty-two doors on your left. You will find a short hall with a door at the end. This door is where the fountain is. The halls are well-guarded, and the Dark Servant will sense your presence. Stay alert; you will have to be clever.”
“And the rest of you?” Optimistic’s face was laced with worry.
Ellagine glanced back the way they had come. “The woísts are coming.”
“We will distract the watching eyes and the guards,” Zhane explained. “If the Dark Servant has his eyes on us, perhaps he will not notice what is happening under his nose.”
Eliesmore took the Green Stone from Wekin. It was larger than he remembered. It had cracks running across the surface. Power vibrated through it, filling his soul with eager anticipation.
“After this, what will you do?” Eliesmore lifted his eyes, taking in his companions and his protectors.
“This is it.” Dathiem strung an arrow in his bow. “We came for the battle.”
Ellagine smiled at Eliesmore, but he noticed her eyes were sad.
“Remember the directions,” Zhane warned. “Actually, I would like both of you to repeat them to me.”
“Around the castle to the left, I think. Then over the wall into the dark entrance, left. Thirty-six right and forty-two left. Hall and door. Then I’ll keep guard,” Optimistic said.
“You go around to the right,” Zhane corrected and turned to Eliesmore.
“Right around the castle and climb the wall into the courtyard. From there, we go into the dark entrance and instantly left. Then count thirty-six doors on the right and another forty-two on the left. There will be a short hall with a door at the end,” Eliesmore recited. “Do we count all the doors on either side of the hall?”
“Yes,” answered Zhane. “They are few and scattered. Remember, go silently. Keep your weapons close at hand, and watch for the guards. They are stationed everywhere.”
Zhane made the two repeat the directions twice more before they said goodbye.
Eliesmore walked up to each of them, clasping their shoulders. A heavy weight lay on his heart as he thought he might never see them again.
“Thank you for leading the way,” he told Zhane, “and remaining faithful, regardless.”
Zhane nodded; his face was tense.
Eliesmore smiled as he walked up to Yamier and Wekin. “Thank you, my friends. Never lose your adventurous spirit.”
“Promise.” Wekin grinned. “Every time you eat bacon, remember us.”
Eliesmore laughed as he walked to Dathiem and Glashar. He wished them well.
Visra stuck out her tongue at him with her eyes glowing. He recoiled from touching her. “Thank you, Visra.”
She sniffed. “I just came for the battle.” She twirled her blade.
Eliesmore felt himself smile despite her words. He walked to Ellagine last. He looked up at the tall Lady of the Green.
“It is as I said. Here you find yourself. You are about to dissolve the Green Stone.” She smiled, but her eyes were guarded. “You know what to do next?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “Find the Phutal and destroy it.”
“Go to Daygone,” Ellagine countered. “Destroy it once and for all.” Reaching out a hand, she squeezed his shoulder before pushing him away.
He had more to say to her, but she was already drawing her sword.
She smiled. “Goidíler,” she said in Iaen. “Thrílílí ea shílí coímí tvú.”
Gray rock became visible as Eliesmore and Optimistic trudged up the hill, massive torrents stood in the sky, their peaks adorned with gray flags. The castle looked as if it had been built by giants. Slabs of stone stretched east and west. Eliesmore guessed it would take him the better part of a morning if he chose to wal
k around it. The castle had been built in layers; the outer layer rose about six feet high while the second layer stood at least twelve feet tall. Each layer of rock and towers doubled in height. Eliesmore guessed each flag represented a lookout post and imagined eyes were watching him and Optimistic.
Eliesmore felt his eyes grow wide in awe. “We should crawl,” he told Optimistic. His legs were trembling. “The grass is tall; it will hide us.”
“Agreed.” Optimistic knelt, and the two of them slithered down the hill.
The meadow was wide, and it took quite some time to crawl toward the courtyard walls. By the time they arrived, Eliesmore’s elbows and knees were sore, but he was confident they had not been seen. Eliesmore sat against the cold stones of the wall. He took a deep breath and nodded at Optimistic. “Ready?”
“Yes.” Optimistic crouched.
In one leap, their fingers caught the top of the stone, and they pulled themselves upward. Eliesmore listened to the thump of his heartbeat. Hurry. Hurry. Faster. Faster. He lay flat on top of the wall, holding his breath before springing down. Optimistic did not make a noise as they landed in the courtyard. As Zhane had warned them, guards paced back and forth. Eliesmore was surprised to see they were mere Crons dressed in silver mesh. They held helmets in their hands as they walked.
“Look!” One pointed a gloved hand to the south. “Up on the hill.”
“Alert the guards,” the second one called.
Optimistic signaled for them to move. As Eliesmore crouched, he took a sharp breath in surprise. Glass figures were rooted to the ground in front of him. They were white beings that were bent over and crooked. They dotted the courtyard, ranging in size. The figures bore a slight resemblance to mortals. While they did not have hands and feet, they had faces that were horrible, fierce, and wild. He felt a deep sorrow as he gazed at the beings. It was as if they had been taken against their wills and captured. They seemed both dead and alive. Optimistic’s face was horrified as he pushed Eliesmore forward. Remembering his legs, Eliesmore dashed into the dark entrance. He hurled himself to the left and bumped up against the wall. He stopped. “What were those beings?” He gasped.
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