“We can do nothing until we have the power of the Green Stone leading us,” Indonesia balled her hands into fists. “Did you see what happened at the Constel Heights?”
“Yes, with the Rain Warriors,” he held up a hand to appease her. “I know. We need a strategy; the Changers are two steps ahead of us. They have a plan, we have to make ours.”
Indonesia’s shoulders slumped. She stepped forward, lifting her face to his. “Yes, we need Eliesmore though. If we scatter throughout the lands, cutting down the woísts, we accomplish nothing unless we destroy the Changers.”
“I know, listen,” he let hints of reassurance drip through his voice. “We will discuss in the morning; today has been exhausting.” He glanced down the shore where the remaining company was settling down to sleep.
Her eyes flashed as she moved closer. Resting her fingers on his biceps she stood on her tiptoes, her lips brushed his cheek like the rush of cool wind against his face.
“You should not do that here. Others can see,” he reminded her.
She held one finger to her lips, mischief dancing across her face. “I will have you when I have you.”
“Later,” he told her, touching her elbow gently. “I must speak to Ellagine.” He paused before he moved away, reassuring her with a look.
He walked down the shore, looking for Ellagine. Zhane had disappeared again, likely to keep watch. Inwardly he was thankful Indonesia was sending the army away, a large company meant they would be more likely to be attacked. He passed Yamier and Wekin, whispering by the riverside as they washed away blood and grime from the battle. Their jeweled eyes glittered as they nodded at him. He saw the respect and honor they held for him along with the grief they felt at the loss of Dathiem. The young Crons were maturing well, yet all the same, it was best for them to return to the fortress with the White Steeds.
Ellagine stood on the bank facing east, hugging herself as the cool wind blew over the river. “Is Eliesmore safe?” Idrithar asked as he walked up beside her.
“Yes,” she did not look at him. “Optimistic is with him. They are headed to Daygone.”
“You mean to follow him?”
“Nehíthermal, I must return to Shimla. Glashar and Visra are coming with me.”
Relief swept through him; the Iaen were leaving. “How are you getting back?”
“We will take the Xctas. The Mermis are leaving to return to the fortress. Surely you know this.”
Idrithar grunted, curious about how much Ellagine knew. “At least wait until morning, we can properly say our farewells.”
“I saw what happened in the mountain of fire,” Ellagine remarked offhandedly, giving him a sidelong glance.
“You mean what you thought happened,” Idrithar corrected her. He had his secrets, Ellagine had hers.
“I saw you jump, and later, I saw Arldrine stay behind. I know you do so for the greater good, but you forget about those you leave behind.”
“I never forget about those I leave behind,” Idrithar corrected her. “It’s the reason I’m still alive. You must have seen the Rakhai; they drained me. What is lost is lost.”
“You will gain much more than you have lost.” Ellagine touched his shoulder, turning him to face her. “Your story is not over yet.”
He stroked his beard, mulling over thoughts in his head. “You give hope to mortals, it is unlike your kind.”
“My kind,” Ellagine repeated. She smiled, her shoulders relaxed as her guard disappeared. “I have always sought to bring hope to the world, mortals and immortals alike.”
“The world is grateful for your assistance. For now, I only question what you will do afterward.”
Ellagine continued to smile at him. “I know what you do in secret when you think no one is watching,” she whispered.
He turned to leave. “Threats do not become you.”
As he strode along the riverbank, her words floated to him. “Don’t threaten me, and I won’t threaten you.”
11
Visra
Visra was bored. She paced on the river bank, watching the soft glimmer of the Green Stone. It shone brighter than the stars even though it was near the middle of the night. Sleep seemed a waste of time. Rubbing her hands together she flexed her wings, searching for mischief. Her eyes fell on Glashar who lay by the waters; her hands tucked under her cheek. Her eyes were glazed over, unseeing. Visra bit her tongue, hating the sight of the beautiful Falidrain. “This is your punishment, you know,” Visra whispered as she crept toward Glashar. “Mortals and immortals should never copulate. What you did was wrong.”
There was nothing, not even a flicker of anger or regret. Visra huffed, crossing her arms. It was no fun to goad someone without a life. She turned to walk away, scowling as a thought crossed her mind. She should tell Glashar what she knew even though she did not want to. Glashar ruined her life, stealing her powers, yet someone had to be the bigger person in this situation. Visra’s life was focused on death and hate. Seeing Glashar lying there, as if she were dead, was worse than gloating. Glashar had lost power and love.
Visra muttered a string of curses as she turned around, kneeling beside Glashar, staring into her sightless eyes. “Are you just going to lie there? Aren’t you going to get him back?”
In one fluid motion, Glashar sat up, staring at her, panting slightly. “What did you say?”
“Get him back,” Visra pointed to the flowing waters. “After all, he’s only dead; you can find his soul.”
“How?” Glashar demanded, her face flushing with hope.
Visra snickered, her enemy was back. “Ask the Truth Tellers. Ellagine knows how to find them although she is afraid of them. We have to return to Shimla and seek them there.”
Glashar put a hand to her mouth, whispering, “‘Find me.’ I know this. Why didn’t I think of this?”
“Because you’re whining,” Visra stuck out her tongue at her. “You should stop crying and take action.”
Tears threatened to spill over Glashar’s hazel eyes and Visra almost wished she’d kept silent. Traveling with a crying Idrain would not be fun. She should go with Idrithar and Zhane and kill creatures, yet deep down inside she could hear the forest calling her.
“Visra,” Glashar said, her lips trembling. “I’m sorry. Thank you.”
The meaning behind those words swept over Visra, and her desire to snap Glashar’s head off disappeared. She leaped up, scowling to hide her emotions. “You were going to cry the whole way and ruin our return,” she muttered. She couldn’t stand the hope on Glashar’s face and, turning around, she fled in the opposite direction.
12
Sarhorr
Year 797 (146 years ago). Daygone.
“How do you know my name?” Shalidir demanded as the wings on her back shifted and morphed away. “How did you find out?” She trembled, her nostrils flaring, her lips half open as fury flooded her dark eyes.
He threw back his head and laughed. She took a step closer, her open palm slapping his immaculate face. The sharp sound echoed across the hewn stones of the tower. He let her hit him, knowing it would be all too easy to bend her over his knee and break her.
“Dare you question me? You have my name. You know who I am, yet you came here all the same, with the child, our child, to seek the truth. I stand before you, denying nothing, and yet you are angry.”
“You needed confirmation of the truth; you threw me out of the tower for proof!” She shouted at him, sparks of green shooting off her arms like the pointed shaft of an arrow.
He snatched her up, pinning her arms to her sides as he held her. Their faces were inches apart as he squeezed her. “Shalidir, Lady of the Green People.” He was furious, yet amused, at the knowledge. “Daughter of my worst enemy and daughter of my sister, Lady of the Green People. The stars of old know the truth. If I am close enough to the heavens, they come down at night to whisper secrets to me. They see all that happens here in this world, you should know about the stars.”
“My mother is not your sister,” she snapped, her fury rippling over him.
“Aye, she is. Not by blood, in name only, it is one and the same. The King and Queen of the Green People treated me like a son. When they left for the eternal shores, my sister and I would have ruled, if I had wished it.”
Shalidir struggled in his arms, her shoulders hunched tightly as she attempted to lean away from him. “You did not wish to rule the Green People. You killed their queen and drank her blood. I know the story.”
“Queen Khalidir promised me her power. I only took what I was given,” he laughed darkly, licking his lips as he recalled how her heart tasted. “Besides, the Horn of Shilmi was carved from her bones, a powerful relic that seems to fall into the hands of mortals.”
“The Horn of Shilmi was recovered by my people,” Shalidir began, her eyes widened as she realized the incidental information she’d given him. “Let go of me, you are a demon of darkness. Bringing you death shall be my pleasure.”
Rage boiled within him, a roar rolling up from the pit of his being. Leaning forward he clamped his mouth down across her neck, biting her hard, letting her feel the razor sharpness of his pointed teeth. He paused before he broke the skin, leaving a bruise on her neck. It would swell with pain, reminding her of him. She whimpered under his touch, her chest heaving as she struggled in vain to escape his clutches.
He pulled away, letting go of her. “Name calling does not become you. You are above such foolery, as am I. If you seek my demise, why did you return with the child? You know there is a shield of protection over the forests of Shimla and the Land of Lock to the south. I cannot tread there, and my brother and sister have imprisoned me here for they are weary of me.” He walked away from her, dropping his head, letting his shoulders fall. She was still young, while violence would not work against her, he could use her lust for him and words. She was proud, headstrong, and she desired power just as much as he did. If she thought he was lonely, if she thought he needed her, she would stay. Clasping his hands behind his back, he went on. “You are still young. You don’t know what it is like to watch the years of your life drop endlessly into nothingness. I have desired to escape these lands, crawling with the souls of the mortals and their petty desires. They know nothing of life as you and I know it. They waste their years thirsting for knowledge, rutting in passion, seeking fulfillment and love with their mates and children. They are greedy for treasure, riches, yet they know nothing of creation and true power. When I saw you, you showed me the light. The Light of Shalidir.”
He paused his monologue, tempted to turn around and visualize how his words were working on her. She was silent. Listening. “You know I desire ultimate power. At first, I thought collecting tokens from powerful mortals and immortals would give me ultimate power, but I was wrong. Taking power from the Queen of the Green People was a temporary thrill, an intoxicating high, and so I sent the Tider to find the Great Clyear of Power. I had a few of the other Clyears, yet they remained useless until the stars told me about the Green Stone, the power of creation.” He let his arms fall to his side as he rotated his body toward her. “The Green Stone will give me and you everything we desire. With its power, we can leave this world and become like the stars in paradise. We will have the power to become the Creators and build our own world with none of the destructive tendencies this world holds. With the power of the Green Stone, we will live for an eternity, we can leave a legacy here, the new breed. Blood of our blood.”
He held out a hand, forcing his features to become gentle, opening his eyes wider as if begging. “We made a plan together. You and I. The last decade has given me clarity. I know who you are, and you know who I am. You have a choice before you, either way, I will let you walk free.” He lied as he walked toward her. If she refused him, he would rip her apart and drink her blood. He still had a daughter; he could use her to achieve his goals. It did not matter who lived and who died, his plan was in motion, he would succeed.
She was still angry, shimmering pale green as she considered his words. He could almost see the conflict taking place in her head. There was only one thing left to do. He lifted his face to the light and held out his hands. Closing his eyes, he let his form ripple away, revealing the horned shadow to her, showing her who he was. His eyes turned red as his shadow rippled across the floor, his monstrous form towering above her. “Shalidir. You must choose. Are you my enemy or my ally?” He demanded. “Choose!”
13
Idrithar
“Where is Arldrine?” Indonesia paced the ground in front of the river.
It was early morning, just after sunrise. The Iaen were eager to leave yet the Mermis desired an audience with the Green Company. To Idrithar’s right stood Zhane, Yamier, and Wekin. A pace away stood Ellagine, her face flushed and shoulders tall. Visra tapped her foot impatiently on the ground, her wings fluttering as she scowled at the delay. Glashar folded her arms across her body, her golden hair covering her bent head, allowing none to see her expression.
“We lost her in the mountains,” Zhane murmured roughly, his eyes hard.
Idrithar’s memory flittered back to Ellagine’s words the evening before. Was Arldrine lost or did she stay behind? Did she recognize herself as the dead weight the Green Company carried and realize it was time to let go? She was confident, sure of her actions. Idrithar was certain whatever Arldrine had done to lead to her untimely death was for the best.
Indonesia frowned before clearing her throat and stepping forward, motioning for Sletaira and Leaka to follow her. Clasping her hands at her waist she began, studying each of them.
“When we heard the Western World was sending help, thanks to our Father, may he rest in peace,” the three Mermis bent their heads in reverence, “we asked for the weapons of our Father.”
Idrithar noted the way they said “our father.” It was a common term the Mermis used for elders they held in great respect. At times he knew who they were referring to, at other times it was ambiguous. He knew their grandfather was King Vincsir of Spherical and their fathers were Crinte the Wise and Marklus the Healer, all three were referred to as “our father.” It was the same with the Green People, they saw parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents as one as the same. The Idrains, such as Glashar and Visra, were not born, they did not have parents to speak of and tended to misunderstand mortals.
“These weapons do not come lightly,” Indonesia went on, a look of reverence moving over her face. Behind her, Leaka and Sletaira bowed their heads, murmured words moving from between their lips. “The Wise Ones determined the plight of the South World is similar to one the Western World faced. It has been many years since these weapons were used, and while they retain the same powers they had in the days of the Five Warriors, the potency of the weapons changes based on the bearer. Each of you was chosen because you paid the ultimate price by standing by the One when no one else would. It is with great honor I give you the weapons of our Father.”
Indonesia lifted her hands and turned toward Leaka, who placed a sword in her arms. Indonesia held it in both hands as she moved in front of Idrithar. He blinked when he saw what it was, hiding the swift disappointment he felt as if she had kicked him in the side. Indonesia bent her knees while holding up the sword. “To the leader of the Green Company, Idrithar the Wise, we present you with the sword of Alaireia the Ezinck, Keeper of the Great Clyear. May the power of this blade guard and protect you and those you select to walk at your side as you defeat the Black Steeds.”
A gasp echoed through the air as, rising, Indonesia placed the sword in Idrithar’s hands, keeping her head bowed so she would not see his expression.
“It is with thanks I accept this honor,” he told her. As she backed away, he drew the sword and held it up to the light. The hilt was silver while the blade had a sharp gold line running vertically from end to end. His fingers tingled as he held it, and the gold line grew brighter as if reacting to his touch.
Sletaira handed Indonesia another sword,
weighing it as if it were precious stones. Indonesia moved to Zhane and repeated her actions, bowing while holding the sword before him. “To Zhane the Warrior, we present you with the sword of our Father, Crinte the Wise. May the wisdom of our Fathers guide you as you lead the way.”
Zhane took the gold hilt and pulled it free of its scabbard, exposing the blade with the oracles that winked in the new light. Zhane held it up, awe and admiration shining on his face.
Indonesia took the third sword with a silver blade from Leaka and walked up to Wekin. “To Wekin the Cron, we present you with the blade of Starman the Trazame. May your enemies grovel at your feet as you fight for a new era.”
Wekin’s mouth hung agape in surprise. “Me?” he stammered. “I get a weapon of the Five Warriors?”
“Do not think little of yourself.” Indonesia smiled fondly at him. “You have seen pain and sorrow, yet your heart is determined. After all, you are a member of the Green Company. Do not doubt your greatness.”
Wekin stepped back, staring at the blade, his jaw moving although he did not utter another word.
“Finally,” Indonesia took a carved bow and a quiver with blue tipped arrows from Sletaira. “To Yamier the Cron we give you the bow and arrows of Marklus the Healer. You will never miss your mark with this bow.”
Yamier’s eyes rounded with wonder as he took the bow and quiver, glancing at Wekin. The two grinned at their luck.
Indonesia took the last weapon from Leaka, a bow made of dark wood with a quiver of blue arrows. Idrithar heard Ellagine’s audible gasp as Indonesia walked up to Zhane. “Zhane, I was hoping to give these to Arldrine. Since she is missing, the bow and arrow of Legone the Swift go to you.”
Zhane nodded, his eyes darkening in sorrow for a moment.
Indonesia stepped back, standing shoulder to shoulder with Sletaira and Leaka. “Just as the weapons were made for the Five Warriors, so you shall find, these weapons will sync with your will. In time, you will find out why these are given to you and your unique purpose in saving this world. We will never forget what you each gave up to stand with Eliesmore the One, finder of the Jeweled Sword.”
Eliesmore and the Jeweled Sword Page 4