Moonscript (Kings of Aselvia Book 1)

by H S J Williams

  “B-b-but you were dead!” Errance stuttered. “Or were dying.” He gestured to her fur still matted with glass shards and blood.

  “Oh,” The Daisha said with an indifferent sniff. “Mere flesh wounds. Don’t you know that daisha hides are tougher than leather? Few things really get deep past all this fur anyway.”

  “Then why did you fall?” he exclaimed, his voice breaking with frustration.

  “Why? The world was going backwards and forwards. And then I couldn’t breathe and hardly move. I felt like I’d turned to stone. It was a very nasty trick, whatever it was.”

  “The Darkness,” he answered in disgust. He leapt to his feet, startling her so that she sat up on her haunches. “His powers are broken now. Where are the others? We have to find them and leave this place.”

  “Where exactly did the Darkness go?” The Daisha demanded as he leapt onto her shoulders. “And what exactly happened—ouch, watch where you’re sitting—to you?”

  “No time,” he gasped. “We have to fly.”

  Grumbling, she lowered her body and spread her wings, but at that moment they heard a distant cry. Errance twisted around and stared off into the unstable walls. “That sounded like Tryss!”

  “That’s because it is Tryss, silly man.”

  There was a rattle of stones falling, and then a small, grey figure rolled out of a crack in the distant wall. Brushing aside grit and dust, Tryss pushed to her feet and staggered towards them. “Errance? Daisha!”

  The Daisha reached her in three bounds, muttering something about slow two-legged persons, and Errance reached down and caught her hand. He braced as she scrambled up and he pulled her in front of him.

  The Daisha launched into the sky as the first part of the wall fell to the ground and obliterated. Struggling for breath, Tryss leaned back against Errance, trying to turn and see his face. “You’re safe? I was looking for you in the tunnels, but I ended up here and—” she broke off with a gasp. “Where are Tellie and Kelm? Tertorem will fall on top of them!”

  When the shaking first began, Kelm ceased staring after The Daisha’s disappearance and grabbed Tellie’s arm. “Tellie!” he cried as the wind rose to a piercing shriek. “We’ve got to get back down to the elves!”

  Her eyes remained glued to the stormy distance, lips forming soundless words.

  A sudden crack thundered above their heads, and they looked up to see one of the tower foundation crumble, and the great spire began to tilt over. “The whole place is coming down!” he shouted. “Come on!”

  “But Errance—The Daisha—Tryss,” she wailed, pulled after him against her will.

  “I said, come ON!”

  A deep rumble vibrated the earth and the slope below them split apart, gas hissing forth from it. They raced down the path, stones bouncing around them. But before they had gone down the next level, there was an eerie roar and the ground turned to rubble beneath their feet. As they started to slide down, Kelm grabbed Tellie by the waist and lunged for a wide outcrop still fixed in place. Gasping, he pulled her onto it, and they huddled against the surface as the entire mountain about them continued to disintegrate. All they could do was sit and watch as the avalanche rushed past and more and more of their rock was exposed.

  “It won’t stay secure very long, I imagine,” Kelm said, trying to still his shaking limbs. Gingerly, he reached out for her hand. “I should have got us down sooner, Tellie.”

  She stared at the destruction, eyes vacant. “It’s my fault.”

  “What?”

  Drawing her knees up to her chin, she wrapped her arms around her legs and tried to ignore the chill of oncoming doom. It was somehow more peaceful than she imagined, even with all the chaos surrounding them. “I was told to escape, that I couldn’t help Errance anymore. But I went ahead and decided I knew better. And now we’re both going to die. I’m sorry.”

  “Oh.” Kelm blinked, and rubbed his brow hard with the heel of his hand. “Well. We might have helped anyway, so I don’t mind. At least we’re…you know…together.”

  She nodded and opened her mouth to reply, but a powerful roar stole all her thoughts away. It wasn’t the roar of the falling mountains…it was a very animal sound, the sound of—

  The Daisha came plunging through the clouds of dust and smoke, her long paws spread out to catch them. As she caught them up into the sky, the rock upon which they’d taken refuge gave way to the avalanche. Then the ground was falling far beneath them and the wind whistled in their ears. Tellie had the brief revelation that she was flying, but after everything else that had happened in the last hours, that really didn’t feel significant.

  Beneath them, the earth rumbled, and all around them, the sky cracked with thunder. Then the sound of something rent in half, like a curtain torn in two, and then a burst of light and wind that pelted their skin with bitter sand.

  And then…silence. A calm, peaceful silence, not fitting to their surroundings. The wind no longer howled, the lightning no longer flashed. When Tellie dared to open her eyes again she saw the clouds were thinning, vanishing away as smoke on the breeze.

  The ground beneath them, where once Tertorem had been, was now nothing more than rubble. The only sign that it had existed were the flattened wood buildings of the human workers. Yet her stomach dropped even more when she saw that the mountains themselves were no longer present. Not the mountains she’d seen anyway; these were more ordinary sort of hills with steep spots and low valleys.

  “Are you all right, children?” They heard Tryss’s voice above them, and they could see her foot from where they hung beneath The Daisha’s belly. Not only her foot, but also one of a man.

  “Tryss!” they shrilled. “Tryss, is that you? Is Errance with you?”

  “Yes, yes,” The Daisha huffed. “I have you all, and it is quite strenuous, believe me. Don’t struggle and let me find a place to land. I am hurt and very tired.”

  “There’s the elf army,” Tryss said, pointing.

  “The…” Whatever Errance had been going to say faded on his lips. But even that one word had said quite enough in its fragile and wavering way.

  Continuing to gripe, The Daisha circled down and with a few clumsy flaps, alighted on the ground on her back haunches, setting the children down in front of her carefully.

  The moment Errance slid to earth, Tellie flung herself towards him, tears already streaming down her face. “I thought you were gone,” she cried. “Gone forever! What happened—” And she would have hugged him, but she ground to a halt in both speech and speed. She did not stop because she remembered Errance’s aversion to touch. No, she stopped for an entirely different reason, a reason that made her eyes wide as moons.

  Her stunned silence drew the others to look in curious observation as well, and a similar expression dawned on their own faces.

  Uncomfortable, Errance stepped back. “What. What is it?” he asked stiffly.

  “Your brands,” Tellie whispered. “Where are they?”

  His eyes flew wide, and his hands fluttered over the bruised surface of his skin, searching under the remnant rags of his jacket, but no mark could be seen. No trace of the words inscribed across his heart. “I don’t understand—” His fingers flew up to his face. “What about the deltha marks through my eye? The mark of the Red Three? Is it…?”

  “It’s gone!” Tellie cried, clapping her hands in amazement. “Oh, oh, whatever did happen to you?”

  He continued to hold his fingers on his brow as if to make sure the mark didn’t return. “I suppose…you could say I was…reborn.”

  “What?” Kelm wrinkled his nose. “That doesn’t make any sense. Are you sure you’re all right?”

  But Tellie stared into Errance’s eyes and she did not find the dark anger that always hunkered in that brilliant color, but instead a hopeful and kindling wonder. And as she guessed a little of what had happened, her heart began to soar.

  It was surely a dream. Only Errance could not remember a dream where he felt so we
ightless and free and whole. The scars had always come and gone, but he’d been doomed to bear the shameful brands of his masters forever, only now forever had ended. One by one his first three masters had slashed their mark until the triad was complete and the Darkness had given him the painful truth of his soul not so long ago—and in one moment the light and love of the One had erased those claims away.

  He closed his eyes, unable to bear the questioning looks of his friends, unable to begin to explain. He just wanted to be alone and think for a few moments, without any interruptions—

  He was interrupted.

  “Brights! Errance! Tryss, kids! Thank the One you made it out! That was quite the feat Miss Daisha performed, never seen anything like it. Do you know why there was an earthquake and most of Tertorem vanished? A bit shaking, you might say, haha.”

  Tryss had said the elf army had come, and he’d seen their glittering mass with the same surreal, doubtful vision he was seeing everything else by, but somehow he had not expected to first be reunited with that one certain elf. The redhead, the smuggler, the savior of his skin.

  Errance turned and stared as Captain Coren picked his way towards them across the sharp rocks, still very much in his sailor garb and not looking a bit like a soldier of any kind. When he’d quite arrived, he stopped smiling and simply looked him over in a long and uncomfortable silence.

  “What are you doing here?” Errance said at last, face wrinkling.

  “Bird-watching.”

  The jest was weak at best, weaker still when said so flatly. Perhaps because even Coren did not much feel like avoiding the truth. Unbelievable but undeniable truth. They had come—after years and years and years of knowing they never would—his people had finally come.

  “Why?” Errance whispered. Why now.

  Coren looked him in the eye, sober, searching. “I sent for the elves in order to bring home a broken slave,” he said slowly. “But I was wrong.” He dropped to one knee, crossed an arm across his chest, and bowed. “I see only a king.”

  Amid the faint gasps of the others, Errance stepped back in retreat. His heart had gone thundering; he could feel the beat of it in his chest. “If you see a king,” he said, voice scraping out from a raw throat, “then it is not me.”

  Glancing up with a glinting smile, Coren nodded. “I can accept that. Humility and self-awareness, that’s good in a ruler.” He shoved back up to his feet. “Well then, are you coming?”

  “Coming?”

  “Coming to see your people.”

  A small hand slipped into Errance’s own. He had not realized till that touch that his hand had been shaking, and he sought to be still as he looked down into Tellie’s face. Her blue eyes were very wet and very bright. “They love you, Errance,” she said. “They love you so much, you know. I can’t even imagine how they must feel to have you so close, but still so far away. If Casara’s your aunt, that means Leoren is your uncle now. You have family in them, Errance. And family is precious.”

  “You have more family than that!” Coren said, whisking another bow. “Meet me, your cousin!”

  Errance stared. He barely heard the exclamations of everyone else, only the echoes of those words ringing in his ears. “What.”

  “You heard me.” The red-headed rogue looked very pleased, as if being cousins had been all his idea. “The elegant son of the demure Casara and the stately Leoren? You mean it wasn’t obvious?”

  “This has been a long day,” Errance muttered, pressing a hand to his brow which had now gone incredibly light.

  “A long night actually,” Coren corrected. “But it’s morning now. A new day. A new start. A fine time to return to your people.” Softening, he held out a hand. “Come on, Errance. It’s time.”

  For only a moment more, he hesitated. Then, ignoring Coren’s hand, he walked forward three steps. Because he made it that far, he kept going. He walked and the others fell in line behind him in a strange and solemn procession.

  Before them, no longer distant across the rocky ground, stood the elves. They stood in silent formation, the drapes of their tunics and cloaks wafting around their rigid bodies. All their opponents were fled or slain, and the only sign of the battle could be found in the blood and grime on their armor. At their head stood Lord Leoren.

  Lord Leoren, who was pale and drawn as if he looked upon a ghost.

  In a sense, he did.

  When he was within ten paces, Errance stopped, the strength of his legs and will evaporating. He couldn’t look upon those faces anymore, so familiar and yet so forgotten. He couldn’t bear to see the faded colors so vivid or the crests of his kingdom so bright. He stared at the ground, hands clenched by his sides.

  Shale crunched. The slight flicker of movement brought Errance’s flinching gaze up ever so slightly, and he saw Leoren very near to him, the lord’s head tilted to the side in an effort for a better look.

  Their eyes met.

  Not allowing another second to pass, the elven lord caught him into his arms and held him with all his strength against a heart beating with immeasurable joy.

  Something within Errance broke, in the same way as it had when he’d been held by the One. And it was a good sort of breaking, even if it sent hot tears streaming down his cheeks and made his limbs so weak he only stood by the steadfastness of Leoren’s embrace. It was somehow painful and relieving all at once, like a thorn plucked free from its hold. And the fears of the return journey, the shock of seeing the kingdom again—it was all retreating. Because deep inside, he knew.

  He was already home.

  38

  oOo

  Zizain was the sort of woman who hated to be left behind. Ever since that strange, pointy-eared man had saved her long ago, she’d become his shadow through the thick and the thin, but now he had left her behind. It was to keep her safe, he’d said. All fine and noble, to be sure, but who would keep him safe? How was she to know he’d return?

  In the time that he’d been gone, she’d paced at the edge of the camp and glared up at the mountain wall barring her way. She’d flexed her fingers, dry and cracked from the sun, and thought how empty they were.

  And when the mountains roared and faded into dust, leaving behind ordinary hills, they might as well have come down by her will for Zizain was a woman who had made up her mind.

  With that mind, she was the first to stride through the valley into the desolate land of Tertorem. She hardly batted an eye at the forsaken landscape, only set her course for the glitter in the grey. And amid all the fair elves, she had eyes for only one, one with bright red hair and a matching red sash. In the corner of her eyes and mind, she noticed the children and Tryss and that dark, interesting elf, but even that did not deter her long.

  She bounded straight up to Coren before he noticed her coming, grabbed him by the pointy ears, pulled his face down to hers, and kissed him full on the lips. “Coren, darling!” she cried. “Marry me, won’t you?”

  He gaped at her, eyes round. “Brights, Zi! I never asked because I thought you’d say no!”

  “Ask me now,” she said with a quick tug on his collar.

  “Marry me?” he gasped.

  “Aye!” She bounced up again to land another peck. “Aye, aye, Captain!”

  The elven healers and tribal folk gathered upon Tertorem’s ashes in a whir of excitement, their languages blurring together in wild colors, but the sound of joy exactly the same. Wives embraced husbands, fathers kissed their children, siblings laughed and danced.

  Somewhere in the crush of the company’s arrival, Tellie lost sight of Errance and she wandered through the crowd, Kelm close by her side. Poor Errance, she didn’t suppose even redemption had prepared him for so much affection and crowding at once.

  “It is quite remarkable,” Kelm was saying, his voice vague in her ear. “I knew Tertorem was strange, but how does anything just disappear like that?”

  Tellie didn’t answer right away, thinking instead of the kiss Coren and Zizain had shared shortly befo
re the healers had arrived. The couple had been in their own happy place, quite oblivious and uncaring to the shocked expressions of the surrounding faces, none more shocked than Coren’s own father. With Errance and now this, Tellie was not surprised Leoren hadn’t come to her yet, and she tried very hard not to feel so disappointed.

  “Are you even listening, Tellie?” Kelm exclaimed.

  She forced her gaze to him. “Hmm?”

  “This!” He waved his arm around at the open sky. “How does it all just vanish?”

  “Tertorem was part of the Unseen,” Tellie said practically. “It is very clear that Errance has been saved by the One, and with such a humiliating defeat, the Darkness has fled away and drug his dark realm along with him. One day I am sure Ayeshune will defeat him altogether.”

  Kelm blinked at her. “Oh bother,” he groaned. “And here I thought we were both normal.”

  “No one is ever quite normal,” someone said.

  It was a voice of violet, starlight, and mountain streams. A voice she’d treasured away in her heart and feared never hearing again.

  Tellie flushed and spun to face Casara with clasped hands. “Oh! Oh, my lady. I—”

  She was wrapped in Casara’s gentle arms before she could say a thing more. After a moment’s embrace, the woman stepped back and cupped her face in her hands, lifting it up to look into hers. Tellie was struck dizzy to see that there were tears shining in those beautiful eyes. “We thought we’d lost you forever,” Casara cried. “Leoren and I blamed ourselves for your fate, and when we heard Coren had found you…”

  “Oh!” she said again, hardly able to speak straight over the thrill shuddering through her body. “Well, it all worked out for the best, it seems. I did find your king after all!”

  “So you did!” Casara laughed. “Coren told us the tale, though you will have to tell it in full!”

  “You’ve seen Errance, haven’t you?” she asked anxiously.

  “I have.” Her voice trembled. “When Rendar spoke of you finding an heir, I never dreamed it would be him…my lost nephew. Thank you, Tellie. Thank you for everything.” And then she knelt and kissed the girl on the cheek, holding her close to her heart.