Clans of Irradan

by RG Long

  Omioor took some time to close the hatch. He huffed and grunted many times before he descended as well and let the door close behind him. They were immediately thrown into complete darkness. Serinde felt like the whole thing was going to collapse in on her at any moment and thought of running back up the ladder and escaping the tunnel. Erilas, though, grabbed her hand in the dark. Whether she was trying to comfort her sister or whether she needed consoling herself for being in the dark tunnel, Serinde didn't know. She was glad, however, to have her sister reach out to her. It gave her strength.

  "I'm not one who enjoys the dark much," Omioor said. "Give me a moment."

  Serinde could hear him shuffling through his pouches and bag before he let out an "Ah ha!" and a red light flickered into life.

  It was a small piece of Rimstone, no bigger than Serinde's thumb. But, in the dark of the small tunnel, it shone like a brilliant light. Erilas sighed, obviously relieved at the ability to be able to see.

  "This way," Omioor said, and started walking hunched over through the tunnel, as if such a thing were normal for elves to do every evening before bed.

  The two sisters exchanged a look, one Serinde cherished, and then followed. It wasn't long before she could see a similar ladder at the other end of the darkness. It wasn't the ladder she was most happy for, however. Erilas didn't let go of Serinde's hand for the length of the tunnel.

  "I'll go first this time," Omioor said when they reached the exit. "Don't want to scare anyone."

  He handed Serinde the small Rimstone piece before climbing up the ladder.

  "Don't lose that," he said as he climbed.

  Serinde heard him tap a series of knocks on the hatch that must be the twin of the other they just climbed through. Silence followed for a moment, but then a scraping noise filled the tunnel, as if something very large were being moved right above them. Finally, a light shown down from above, making the Rimstone lantern seem pale in comparison.

  "About time," said a voice.

  Omioor climbed the rest of the way out and replied.

  "I ran into some slow-moving elves," he said. "Thought I'd bring them along."

  Serinde moved to look up at the opening and saw a sour-faced elf, one who was just as old as Omioor, or so it appeared.

  He looked at their guide and then back down at them. Tutting, he shook his head and spoke without taking his gaze away from the two of them.

  "She won't be happy about this," he said.

  "She'll manage," Omioor replied. "Get up here, you two."

  Serinde climbed the ladder and a thought filled her mind. Was Omioor saying that she, Serinde, wouldn't be happy, or that someone else wouldn't be? And if that were the case, who was the somebody? Erilas followed up the ladder and Omioor let down the hatch. Then they all helped push a heavy crate over it, covering the door completely.

  The sour-faced elf held a lantern in his hand and motioned for them to follow him, without saying another word. They obeyed at Omioor's nod. The hatch had been inside what looked to be a storeroom. Barrels and crates filled every crevice, making the one crate that covered the entrance to the tunnel seem less suspicious. The next room they came to was what looked to be a kitchen and eating area, five paces large. The one room was twice as large as Serinde's entire dwelling in Azol and much better furnished.

  Wooden stools with fabric stretched over their frame served as seating, while several boards hammered together and sanded smooth formed a decent table. Setting down his lantern, the new elf took a seat and invited them to do likewise.

  "You're expected," he said to Omioor. He then pushed a bowl of what looked to be very small apples towards the two sisters. They looked at him with questioning eyes.

  "It's not poisoned," he said in reply to their stares. "Be silly to kill you after taking you from Azol."

  Serinde shook her head.

  "How do you have food left over?" she asked, astonished. "It's far past the evening meal."

  The elf whistled and looked surprised for a moment.

  "You did come from dire straits, then?" he said, taking two apples and handing them to the sisters in turn. "Alright Omioor, tell me the story. You won't be able to go anywhere until after the next watch anyways."

  It turned out that Omioor was sent as a spy to Azol to see if they had rebelled against the Empire, as some resistance fighters had planned. Once he knew that the fighting had begun, he was to report back to his leader, an elf they hadn't named yet. The elf whom they were sharing a table with was named Linten, and was a member of the same resistance. He had lived in the city of Eccott his entire life, all three hundred years of it.

  The city had been in the control of Enoth for hundreds of years, but always unwillingly. A small resistance had once tried to overthrow their bonds, but failed. Both Eccott elves became solemn when they told that particular tale.

  "It's not been something we would have chosen for ourselves," Linten said, looking down at his hands. "If it had been up to us, we would have never given in. Knowing what we know now, death is better than service under the empire."

  "But it won't be that way forever," Omioor chimed in. "And you two know all about a life controlled by Enoth."

  Serinde nodding, knowingly. Erilas just sat there, still munching on the core of her apple. Neither had said a word while listening to the tale of Eccott, but Erilas hadn't even looked up.

  "What's wrong, young one?" Linten asked, looking at Erilas with the first sign of emotion other than dislike since they climbed up through his storeroom.

  A tear fell from her cheek.

  "You talk about war and death," she said through a croaking voice. "But isn't that what you'll get if you try to free yourselves? Won't Enoth just kill you like they did with that first rebellion you spoke of? And then what? Who will care for your children? Who will look after them when their mothers and fathers are spent? Won't they be forced to work in mines or fields or ships? But they won't have anyone to come home to. No one to show them love. And for what? Because you were tired of working."

  "Working!?" Linten shouted, his voice raised and his brow furrowed. "You make it sound like the empire is a gracious employer!"

  "Don't," Omioor said, putting a hand out to bring the elf back down to his seat. "They know more about living under the empire than most. They lived in Azol for their whole lives."

  "And our father was worked to death. Just like our mother," Serinde said, now as furious with Erilas as Linten looked. "The empire is responsible for father's death. They killed him, Eri! He did everything they ever asked of him and he died for it!"

  "Keep your voices down, both of you," Omioor said through clenched teeth. "The last thing we need is..."

  A loud knock on the door cut off whatever the end of Omioor's sentence might have been. Lantern light peeked in through cracks in the door and the closed curtains of the window. A second, louder knock followed quickly.

  "Open up!" came a gruff voice. "I know who you've got in there!"

  "SCARED THE LIVING LIGHTS out of all of us," Omioor said as they settled back down to the table, another elf now joining their company. She was brown haired and had dark skin. The hair on her head was tied up in a messy bun. Her brown eyes were keen and searching. Her lantern cast shadows on her face that were made more menacing by the spectacles that she wore.

  "Next time, don't act like an Enoth guard," Linten said, appearing to agree with the assessment made by Omioor.

  They all had nearly hit the floor when the loud knocking had interrupted them. Both the older elves had drawn small blades and looked out of the window before breathing a sigh of relief. It was no Enoth soldier at the door, but the very leader of the resistance herself: Madam Farina.

  Madam was not her first name, as Serinde understood it, but every elf addressed her as such. She saw no good reason to question their ways. The female could have been old enough to be their mother, but didn't seem as old as either Omioor or Linten. There was a fire in her eyes, Serinde thought. She wondered if
the same flame had burned in her own before now.

  "You found these two outside of Azol, then?" she questioned Omioor sternly.

  Serinde was reminded of the many times she had disobeyed her mother and was being given a talk about the incident. The look on Madam Farina's face was very similar to what she remembered her mother making. Omioor, however, didn't cower. He shrugged and drank a gulp from the mug Linten had set before him.

  "Fled the city after the revolt broke out in the quarry," he said. "Killed two guards before I found them hiding in the ruins of some long-forgotten village."

  Farina took turns examining the two sisters. Serinde had the feeling that the elf could read her thoughts right out of her mind if she wanted. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Erilas not meeting the gaze of the newest elf to sit around the table.

  "What do you know about Enoth?" she asked.

  "Enough to hate them," Serinde replied. She was letting her own fire burn inside her. She felt like she needed to prove herself to this elf. She wanted her to know that she was willing to fight. "Enough to want to be rid of them forever."

  "Enough to shed blood?" Farina asked. "You killed two guards. Is that true?"

  Erilas made a small shudder. Serinde knew she hated the fact that they had killed to escape. What did they have? Would they be sitting here if they hadn't?

  "And I would again," Serinde replied.

  Madam Farina nodded, but then looked at Erilas.

  "What about you?" she asked. "You haven't said a word. Do you agree with your sister? Would you lend your help to us?"

  Serinde was looking at the table for a moment, not wanting to look at either this leader of a resistance, or Omioor, or her sister. But then she risked a sideways glance and saw that Erilas was looking right at Madam Farina, not blinking.

  The room was tense.

  "I will not spill blood," she said.

  That much, Serinde had known in her heart. Her sister had never been one to fight. She had hated any mention of violence, even on those who seemed to deserve it most. Madam Farina narrowed her eyes.

  "But I will help," Erilas finished, not taking her eyes away from the female across from her.

  Serinde breathed deeply. It wasn't a full endorsement of how she felt, or that she completely agreed with her, but for now, Serinde knew it was the best Erilas had to offer.

  She would take it.

  16: Trackers

  The trio emerged from the cave on what looked to be the southern border of the forest. Night was beginning to set in. The twin suns were setting and the moons were making a point to shine clearly. It would be a cloudless early summer night. If Silverwolf had cared about nature, she probably would have enjoyed the view. The forest lay behind her, its ancient trees raising up like guardians of the domain. Before her was a vast plain. Some trees could be seen here and there, but mostly it was rolling grass that rose and fell with the miles.

  But she wasn't one to linger on nature.

  Silverwolf had quite enough of walking in a dank, muggy tunnel for one day. Her clothes felt soggy and she was more than glad to see sky above her and not rock. Fortunately, the path had not been an extremely long one, nor had they needed to sleep in the natural tunnel. A few hours of biting her upper lip and pushing herself onward was worth it.

  Now they just had to find Ealrin's trail again.

  That was the thing about hunting; there always needed to be a good trail to follow. For a while they had the road. That was easy enough. Silverwolf had thought they could just travel that until they came to a fork. At that point she would put her skills to the test. Now they needed to find a different path.

  “Where's the road we were on?” she asked Amrolan, who emerged from the cave before she did. The elf had just climbed back up onto Panto and was surveying the land around them. Through the cave, he had to stay off of the bear to avoid hitting his head. Now it seemed he was back where he felt most comfortable.

  And where he was ignoring Silverwolf.

  “Hey! Tin head!” she said with an annoyed air. She wasn't going to suffer the strong silent type when they needed answers. “Where's the road?”

  Amrolan turned the bear around to face the cave entrance. Blume was just coming out as well, panting and still carrying Ealrin's sword. Silverwolf rolled her eyes at the sight.

  “You won't be able to fight with that,” she said to the girl. And she knew it was true. Blume wasn't strong enough to keep that sword lifted for long. She needed a different blade. Silverwolf groaned and walked up to Blume with her hand out.

  “Give it here,” she said. Blume gave her a look that would have threatened a small animal. But not Silverwolf.

  “No,” she said plainly.

  “I won't steal it,” Silverwolf added for emphasis. “You can't lift that thing. You need something that's more like your ability.”

  Blume continued to stare hard at her. She was probably about to make a fuss about the whole thing, Silverwolf thought, when Amrolan came up.

  “Allow me to carry the blade for a while,” he said, holding out his hand to Blume as well.

  Blume looked back and forth between the two of them.

  “She won't give it to me,” Silverwolf argued, “and she's known me longer. She won't give it up to you.”

  “No, he can have it,” Blume said suddenly. “Until we find Ealrin.”

  She handed Amrolan the sword, who attached it onto Panto with some of the leather straps he had in a pouch. Silverwolf threw up her hands in frustration at the whole thing. She wanted to get back to hunting.

  “Hey!” she said, a little louder than she had anticipated, but it had the desired effect. Both of her companions looked at her with questioning glances.

  “Are we going to get Ealrin or not? Shouldn't we be tracking them down now?”

  The Wrents had driven them off course, that was for sure. Silverwolf didn't know if, now that they had come to the edge of the forest, they would see fewer or more of the beasts. She just knew she didn't want to do nothing.

  “The road is a little east of here,” Amrolan said, pointing with his hand over Silverwolf's shoulder. “We should follow the trail until it splits. Then we will guess where they've taken your friends.”

  Silverwolf looked in the direction the elf had pointed. She saw hills and a few trees for sure, but no roads. It looked like a collection of grass and brown colors someone had smudged together.

  “Are you sure the road is east of us?” she asked, turning her gaze back to the elf.

  His cool expression was all she needed for an answer.

  “Fine,” she said, hoisting her small pack higher onto her back and walking in the direction Amrolan had indicated. “Let's get going then.”

  “We ought to rest,” Amrolan countered, getting down off of Panto and taking a few things out of hidden pouches under the bear's armor.

  “But we'll lose them,” Silverwolf argued. “We've already fallen behind thanks to those foxes and our little shortcut.”

  “They stop to sleep as well,” Amrolan said as he sat upon the earth just at the mouth of the cave. “We won't have this much shelter on the plains. May as well rest while we can.”

  Silverwolf shrugged and began to gather dead wood to make a fire. Then she remembered the stories she had heard about the Wood Walkers and their propensity of hating anyone who killed things in the forest. It annoyed her, but she still needed the elf to decipher her amulet.

  “You're okay with a fire, right?” she asked him.

  Amrolan nodded as he rummaged through one of his bags.

  “But no cutting down a living tree,” he said. “I respect the forest and ask you to do the same.”

  “Right,” Silverwolf replied, as she gathered more than enough wood for a small fire that would keep through the night. The ground was plentiful in dead wood to burn. She unslung her own pack and got out tinder and flint.

  “Hey, hairy,” she said, looking up at the bear and having a moment of clarity. “You're smart
. Dig a hole.”

  Panto gave a grunt of dissatisfaction. Silverwolf raised an eyebrow at him, then looked at Amrolan. The elf looked up at Silverwolf for a moment, as if curious, then nodded at the bear. With three powerful swipes of his paws, a small hole was dug into the ground. Panto went back to his master's side and lay down.

  Before long, Silverwolf had a good fire that would give them light but not attract too much attention in the night. The last thing they needed was any more surprises. In all this, Blume simply sat down and began to look through her bag. She had removed each of her books and stacked them gently beside her. She looked at the pages of one, put it down, and then picked up another.

  Amrolan looked up from his meal of dried fruit and motioned for Blume to scoot closer.

  “May I see that book now?” he asked her as she sat next to him and removed her pack.

  Panto began pawing at the ground, rooting around for food. Silverwolf didn't like to rest, or wait. It wasn't in her nature. The fire was going as the night began to fall in earnest.

  “I'm going to scout around a bit,” she said. “Make sure none of those fox things are about.”

  Amrolan nodded as he accepted the book Blume took from her stack and turned it over in his hands.

  “Remarkable,” he said.

  Silverwolf rolled her eyes and was out of sight before either of them had any more to say to one another. She ran silently through the forest, loving the sensation of traveling alone again. It was only in dire necessity that she took on companions. She had always felt more alive and able when she was off on her own. At least when she was by herself, she could trust everyone at arm's length.

  For an assassin, that wasn't always the case.