Moonscript (Kings of Aselvia Book 1)

by H S J Williams

  “Such a pity you’ll be too dead to see it,” the Prisoner said, smile starved. “And then the other overseers. And on and on our bloody exchange shall go.” He cocked his head, lips tightening in pensive thought. “Will there ever come the day when the Darkness runs out of masters and miners to send down to me?” Face hardening, he threw the overseer away.

  The man caught himself on the rocks and glared at the Prisoner, desire for agonizing vengeance alight in his eyes. “You’ll pay,” he hissed.

  “I will,” the Prisoner agreed. “Double for whatever is dealt to me.”

  The overseer’s eyes widened and he slunk away, a coward to the core, or perhaps simply a man who didn’t relish the idea of being killed in the middle of the night.

  The old miner sat as still as the stone around him. He hoped—tried even—to catch the gaze of the Prisoner as he strode back into the dark tunnels, but the young man never looked his way. Not once.

  2

  oOo

  The storm passed on during the night, and Tellie woke to early sunlight peeking through her shutter windows. The Nornes must have been very drunk last night if they hadn’t woken her by now. While she appreciated the extra sleep, it also meant that her masters would be in a fouler mood. She would simply have to avoid them as best she could.

  She laid back for a moment to gather her bearings and heaved a sigh. If last night had been any foretelling of her future, things looked grim. This was her last day of being fourteen. Three years ago she’d come to this inn with so many hopes and dreams. Day by day, reality had carved them away. She wasn’t wanted, not in a way that mattered. And she was trapped. For some reason, she’d entertained the idea that another family member, a long lost brother perhaps, would arrive in a blaze of glory and take her away. Or that maybe even the Nornes would tire of her and send her back to the orphanage. But it was no use. In just another day, she’d be too old. Her next hope of escape was through marriage, but that was too many years away to be of any comfort. Assuming she’d even have prospects.

  Coming to Denji wasn’t all bad, of course. For one, it was in the country, a soaring improvement to the cold, stone walls and streets of the mother city. The smell of bright fir, the fiery sunsets, the taste of clear stream water…it was almost enough to make up for the sour treatment and back-aching work.

  Then the town of Denji itself was charming—quaint and small, with little houses of wood and plaster. There were such stories surrounding the village, but none half as interesting as the chilling tale of mystery, monsters, and murder that hung in a shroud over The Only Inn. Tellie did not think she believed in ghosts but the tales certainly had taken root in her imagination and dreams.

  And last night, a living and breathing tale had come into the inn. In the growing morning sunlight, it was hard to believe that the men last night were real, that the necklace was anything more than a figment of her imagination. But when she rolled over and opened her drawer, the medallion winked right back at her. She stared at it for a long perplexed moment. Surely it was just something wrong with her memory, but it seemed rounder somehow.

  She scowled at it. “What am I going to do with you?”

  Perhaps Kelm would know who made it. The craftsmanship was so unique that maybe it could be identified to a certain master. Her heart quickly rose. Kelm and his master had returned to town only the night before, on the brink of the storm.

  There was no telling when Missus Norne would pound on her door and demand she start work, so Tellie determined to bask in the fragile peace while she had it. She threw open the shutters, and the morning rays whisked into the room, sanctifying the floating dust with a golden glow. The trees and grass outside sparkled from the rain as if strung with diamonds. Inhaling deep, she closed her eyes. It was hard to fear much in the sunshine. Already, she was beginning to wonder if the men were quite as terrifying as they’d seemed last night.

  “Good morning,” she whispered.

  She could not say who she spoke to, but it seemed that a beautiful morning deserved recognition. Back in the orphanage, the matron had caught her saying it to the day and asked her if she was speaking to God. The idea of someone overhearing rather horrified her young mind, making her gasp, “Is he listening?” The matron had looked confused at that and didn’t answer. But as Tellie grew, the fear of the notion changed to a wistful desire. It was nice to imagine someone might be interested in her life, as unlikely as that seemed.

  Setting the necklace on her shelf, she quickly changed out of her nightgown into a simple homespun frock and pinafore. She ran a brush through her hair, catching the rebellious brown curls with a ribbon. A day as lovely as this deserved a bright ribbon but all she had was a dull blue. Still. Not even the freckles sprayed across her nose and round cheeks could mar her opinion of herself, not since the orphanage matron had called them fetching.

  Of course, all her looks had fetched her so far was work in a rundown inn in an isolated country town called Denji. It could be worse, she reflected. I suppose I could be working in some sooty factory.

  A croak of a bird interrupted her morose thoughts.

  She turned to see a magpie perched on the rim of her window, its long tail bobbing. “Why hello,” she exclaimed. Mornings, trees, birds, she talked to them all. Whether it came from her imagination or lonely need for company, she could never decide.

  Magpies were often seen in Shadowshade Forest which lay just beyond the inn, but one had never come so close to her before. It was a handsome bird, brilliant black, blue, and white feathers shining in the light. Cocking its head, it fixed an intelligent dark eye on her as it hopped down onto her table.

  “What are you doing?” Tellie continued, stepping towards him. She knew it wasn’t wise to let any company wander in uninvited, no matter how handsome. Magpies were notorious thieves, but that was nothing in her room that should attract him except for—

  With a gasp, she lunged, but she was too late.

  Quick as lightning, the bird darted forward and caught up the precious necklace in its beak.

  “No!” She reached wildly for it as it swept out of her room with a flash of its dazzling wings. Horrified, she leaned out the window and watched it soar to a tree where it perched on a branch, necklace still hanging from its large beak.

  Panic coursed through her body. The men would wonder where the necklace had gone and they were sure to think she was the thief. Gasping, she flew out of the attic room and pounded down the two flights of stairs to the bottom floor, ignoring the slurred shout of Missus Norne. As she burst out of the main door, she collided with someone coming up the steps.

  They both began to fall, but the other gained his balance and steadied her. “I say, Tellie!” he cried. “Watch it!”

  Tellie shoved off him and staggered backwards. “Kelm!” she exclaimed, a flush spreading over her cheeks. “What are you doing here?”

  “Dropping by to see those charming innkeepers, of course,” the boy replied, straightening his vest. When she stared at him incredulously, he rolled his eyes. “I came by to see you, Tellie.”

  “Oh, there’s no time,” she said, voice shrill. “You’ve got to help me catch that dratted bird!”

  “Dratted bird?” Kelm’s eyebrows rose to his crop of wavy gold hair. “Those are two words that I never expected to hear you say together.”

  Without bothering to explain, Tellie grabbed her friend’s arm and dragged him after her. They ran to the base of the tree where the magpie preened. As soon as they neared, the bird soared over towards the trees that bordered the beginning of Shadowshade Forest.

  “After it!” she shouted, practically hysterical. “We mustn’t let it get away!”

  “Tellie!” he huffed. “What in Orim is going on?”

  “That bird! It took the necklace. We’ve got to catch it!”

  Not caring if he followed her or not, she tore off after the magpie as it flew into the wood.

  Shadowshade Forest rose on the edge of town, the firs standing
like columns of an impregnable wall. The villagers had warned Tellie not to venture far into its depths, saying that the deeper you went, the darker and sadder the wood became. For all her fears, a haunted wood enticed rather than drove away, and she pursued the magpie now with little fear. Despite its name, the wood had never seemed shadowy to her for it was always bright with green fern and vine maple. When taking a stroll, the thick foliage looked beautiful and enchanting, but now it tangled her feet as she plunged headlong through it.

  The magpie seemed to be waiting for her, the insolent thing. It perched atop a straggly hemlock, cocking its head, the necklace hanging from its beak.

  Tellie halted underneath and stared up. The tree shrub was too tall for her to reach and too flimsy to climb. She was almost in a foul enough mood to try to hit the bird with a stone—but not quite.

  Puffing, Kelm ran up alongside her. “Drat it, Tellie! What is going on with the stupid bird? It’s not moving now, so you have to tell me.”

  “That necklace doesn’t belong to me,” she whimpered, willing the magpie to stay still. “Worse, it doesn’t belong to those horrible men in the inn, but they say it’s theirs and they’ll know I was the last one with it. You know I can’t lie to save my life; I wish I could, because I think those men are dangerous, and what am I going to do?”

  Kelm made her explain everything in more detail, and once she had, he studied her with a furrowed face. “Golly, Tellie. You sure know how to make a mess of things.”

  “Me?” she yelped. “How is this my fault? Why, I’ll have you know that—” She gasped and pointed as the magpie took flight and soared into the trees beyond. “Oh, why won’t he just drop it?”

  “If he brings it to his nest, I’ll climb the tree for you,” he offered as they raced after the thief.

  She threw him a grateful smile. If the magpie indeed left the medallion where she could not reach it, she didn’t know what she would have done. She hated heights.

  The magpie vanished into the dense forest.

  “No!” she wailed, stumbling to a stop. “No, I’m done for; they’re going to kill me!” Tears began to burn behind her eyes.

  “Now, Tellie,” Kelm said. “Don’t be hasty. I’m sure those fellows aren’t nearly as awful as you say nor the medallion as valuable.”

  She glared at him. Easy for him to say, he hadn’t seen either of them.

  “But let’s just be still here for a moment,” he continued. “Magpies are noisy birds. We’ll know where he is in a second.” They fell silent and listened.

  A bird croaked in the distance. “There’s one,” Kelm said.

  “It’s in the wrong direction and it’s too far away.”

  He shrugged, striding towards it anyway. “You never know. I’ll check it out; you stay here and follow anything else.” He disappeared into the forest beyond, leaving her amongst the rustling bracken.

  She crossed her arms with a huff and bent her head to listen for any call. A squirrel chittered a distant protest, a stream’s song tinkled like silver bells, and the wind in the trees whispered with distant voices.

  Distant voices.

  Tellie froze. That wasn’t just the trees, those were voices. She pulled in a breath to call for Kelm, but then held it. Those strangers would hear her too. Perhaps they’d heard her already. So she should go after her friend for safety, yes, that was the smart thing to do.

  But curiosity bloomed in her heart, rose to her head, and tingled to the very tips of her toes. Hardly anyone came this far into Shadowshade. Were they from the village or perhaps more travelers?

  Casting a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure Kelm wasn’t returning, she crept towards the undulating voices. The nearer she approached, the clearer the voices rang, but no less soft and sibilant. Her skin prickled as she realized they were speaking in another language. Bird, medallion, and dark strangers almost forgotten in the thrill of mystery, she knelt in the fern and crawled on.

  At last, she caught her first glimpse of them from between her concealing fronds of sword fern, and her breath was stolen away.

  An entire company of folk gathered in the glade, dismounted from their grazing horses. They dressed in clothes unlike any she’d seen, not even travelers from elegant Korince. Tunics swept around their slender bodies and fell halfway to their thighs, layering over leggings and knee-high leather boots. Cloaks draped down their backs, one end clasped to the shoulder, the other to their hip. The color of their attire was muted and soft, like the fog of morning hills or river mist, except for their cloaks which were dark forest green and seemed to flicker with leaf-scattered sunlight.

  Three gathered in the center of the glade, while the others silently patrolled the borders.

  The dark strangers at the inn had spoken the truth…

  …elves had come to Shadowshade Forest.

  Their race was undeniable, even without the confirmation of slender, pointed ears peeking from their long hair. It was something about their vibrant eyes, something about the way they moved. They existed in an aura of agelessness and beauty that no one could deny.

  Tellie swallowed, mouth dry. How had the strangers known the elves would be coming? Perhaps they came here often in secret, and the whole of Denji didn’t know.

  One of the three in the center of the glade stood apart from the rest. He seemed strangely old, bent over as if under a great weight, and his hair shone silvery white. As she watched, he drew a slim sword from amongst his draping robes and drove it into the ground. Around it he hung a shredded, dark blue cloak, and around the hilt he dropped a silver circlet that gleamed in the light. One of the other figures beside him murmured quiet words that she did not understand. It struck her that these strangers shared a solemn, sad moment, and that she was rude to be spying, yet she could not look away.

  The magpie’s call broke the mournful quiet, and to Tellie’s astonishment, it flew through the air and alighted upon the bent shoulder of the silver-haired elf. Gently, he held up a hand, and it dropped the moon necklace onto his fingers.

  Tellie’s gasp was drowned out by the gasps and cries of the surrounding folk. Expressions of disbelief flickered across their fair faces, and they drew close to the necklace as if they expected it to vanish before their eyes.

  Only the white-haired one did not seem surprised. Indeed, he seemed calm. Very calm as he looked up and stared right into Tellie’s eyes.

  Drawing in a sharp breath, she crawled backwards into the fern—right into awaiting hands.

  With a shriek, she lunged away, but she jerked to an abrupt halt at the end of her captor’s arm. She twisted to find one of the patrolling strangers, a scarf concealing his lower face so that only his eyes, dark and intense, peered back at her. His other hand came forward, spun her back around, and clasped her other shoulder. Quite casually, he lifted her off the ground, hands grasping her arms, and carried her the last few steps out of the brush into the clearing.

  A circle of gleaming blades met her eyes, each elf tensed for battle. She choked out another cry as her feet touched the ground, but the elf did not release his grip. The ring of warriors relaxed, their tension easing into something nigh to exasperation. One of the three central figures, a tall elf with a golden circlet around his flaxen hair, stepped forward and spoke a few foreign words to Tellie’s captor.

  “Let me go!” Tellie shouted, struggling against the steady hold. “I’m not a thief or spy…or…anything bad!”

  “Of course not,” the one with the circlet said soothingly. “Forgive us, our guards are ordered to keep us safe, and while you are but a child, we weren’t expecting anyone out here. Let her go, Valryd. She is no threat.”

  The one holding Tellie let go, but she could still feel his tension hovering behind her as he obviously hadn’t dismissed her as a threat.

  Now free, she drew in a deep breath and straightened her dress. She glanced around at the surrounding folk with undisguised curiosity. The fact that they could speak the common tongue brushed a load of fea
rs off her chest.

  The man who ordered her release looked at her in growing unease. It was the sort of face adults made when they’ve been discussing something too mature and serious for a child’s ear and fear they might have been understood. “You can go,” he said. “We won’t detain you.”

  “But you’re elves,” she blurted. “I’ve heard about you!”

  His eyebrows drew together. “I’m sure you have. Now run along before your parents miss you. And say nothing of this.”

  “Leoren,” a soft voice said.

  Tellie started and turned to see that the third of the central party was a woman with dark brown hair and violet eyes.

  “Leoren,” the woman said again. “Gently.” She smiled with genuine warmth that the girl found rare from adults. “I’m sorry if we seem rude, child, but we were in the middle of a memorial. Is there something you wanted?”

  Shocked to be addressed so courteously, Tellie’s mouth hung open without an answer. Elves. What would Kelm think? She could barely wait to tell him when she got back to the inn—

  The inn. Her skin went cold. The strangers at the inn. The necklace.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, voice very small. “But your bird stole my necklace.”

  Several of the elves exclaimed and murmured to each other in their own language. Tellie blushed and stepped backward. She stumbled against the elf who had caught her and jerked away, fear pressing back in from all sides. Had she ever heard stories about what actually happened to travelers who encountered elves?

  The man and the woman drew back behind the bodies of their guards, and she could hear the whisper of their swift and soft conversations with the hidden silver-haired man. Tellie began to stand on her tiptoes to see and hear better, but the guards blocking her view were staring back at her with chilly, dangerous eyes, and she quickly pretended not to be so interested by the secret conference.

  The woman remerged, eyes curiously intent, but still gentle. “I am Casara. What is your name?”