Eliesmore was horrified, knowing his behavior had not been such that resembled the One. He watched as Idrithar turned away, his shoulders shaking. “Was he very angry with us?” he pleaded, looking to Optimistic.
Optimistic glanced at the passage where Idrithar had disappeared. “Him? No, he was laughing at us. He knows what Crons are like. He was young like us once.”
“Do you think he’ll let us go along with you to the Constel Heights?” Yamier asked.
“Not a chance,” Optimistic teased. “Zhane was talking of leaving you behind, and he and Idrithar are always in full agreement. I think that if you really want to come, you could, but you have to be serious about it and persuade Idrithar that he needs to keep you two in sight. And then you must be perfectly good.”
“Optimistic, that’s hard,” Wekin complained.
“We’ll try anything to be able to go,” Yamier interrupted, nodding his head eagerly.
“That would be nice,” Eliesmore said, thinking of the long journey and the terrors it held.
“Are you frightened Eliesmore?” Wekin’s eyes widened. He was serious for once.
“You don’t know what’s out there.” Eliesmore shuddered. “The Rakhai will chase us. We will go through many dangers. The quest is impossible because of all the horrors waiting for us. And if we fail, if I fail, then everyone will be given over to the Black Steeds to be tormented forever.”
The fun and laughter fled from the room, even Yamier and Wekin’s faces grew long at the prospect of doom and gloom. Optimistic put a hand on Eliesmore’s shoulder. “Look for the light,” he whispered.
Eliesmore took a deep breath. “Let’s get to work.”
They cleaned up the spilled wine and bruised apples. It took two to carry barrels, and they ended up making a game out of it, seeing who could carry the most barrels up to the cooking room. As they marched along the passageways and staircases, they sang the “Barrel Carrying Song.” It was first invented by the mice and did not make much sense, yet it matched the rhythm of their work. Eliesmore found thoughts of doom and gloom disappearing as they worked.
“Heave-ho!
Here they come.
Roll them, store them.
Here they come.
Heigh-ho!
Here we go,
Marching upwards.
Here we go.
Heave-ho!
Upstairs and downstairs,
Carrying barrels.
Here we go.
Heigh-ho!
Bring the food
In and up.
Still down we go.
Heave-ho!
Here we go
Through the fortress,
Moving barrels.
Heigh-ho!
Back down again,
Barrels floating
Here and there.
Heave-ho!
Roll them, push them
Empty out to sea
Return them full.
Heigh-ho!
So I am told.
Thank you, land.
Thank you, sea.”
The barrels were stacked in the kitchen, where the Mermis laughed and thanked them as they cooked. The last meal was announced shortly afterward. Although the fortress was well equipped with a dining hall, the long tables and chairs dwarfed the small company of thirteen White Steeds and eleven white horses. They moved the meal to the kitchen where Indonesia, Sletaira, and Leaka served them.
Idrithar sat with Zhane and Arldrine at one end of the table. Ellagine appeared, and shortly after, Glashar and Dathiem walked into together, carefully looking away from each other, even as they sat down together. Eliesmore sat with the young Crons, finding himself ravenous. Fastshed and company, seeing as there was nothing important being discussed, eventually left. As they dug into the food, Zhane glanced around the small company. “Where is Visra?”
Idrithar pursed his lips in displeasure.
Sletaira said, “She will be back tonight.”
A slight mummer rose over the table. Eliesmore could see it like colors. Ellagine was annoyed. A flush of anger rose over Glashar’s face. Eliesmore wondered who Visra was. He did not get a chance to find out because everyone began to talk amongst themselves. As Eliesmore listened, he felt his appetite disappear, and the rich flavors were not enough to tempt him. Soon they would be leaving the secure walls of the fortress, venturing back out into the outside world where they would be chased and hunted. His thoughts turned pensive and sad as he listened to the light talk and laughter. One day they might not have food, and they might not be sitting in safety—eating, drinking, talking, and laughing. The meal passed, Eliesmore grew weary, and the next thing he knew, Optimistic was leading him along a hall. “Come, you will stay with me, Yamier and Wekin. I forgot how tired we all are.” They entered a room with four beds, and Eliesmore collapsed into one. “Good night.” He heard Optimistic chuckling.
“Good night,” Eliesmore echoed back.
He closed his eyes, shutting out all the worries and cares of life. He was exhausted, but he was glad to finally be back in a bed with the strong walls of the fortress securing him. Within minutes, he was asleep, and it seemed to him he was back at the glorious house of Novor Tur-Woodberry. His dream from that house arose before him. He was sailing upon beautiful water, and he saw the shimmering curtain, full of light. He heard words singing a song that faded from memory the moment he awoke.
29
Arldrine
Arldrine perched on the back of a chair, gently rocking it back and forth. She could already feel herself folding in, turning inward and curling up. Zhane and Idrithar stood, bent over the table, staring at maps of the South World as they conferred on the route they should take when they set off to help the One dissolve the Green Stone.
Ellagine listened, her ears rising and falling as they captured words. Glashar and Dathiem sat beside her, a comfortable silence humming between them. Arldrine continued rocking her chair, knowing she should go to sleep, but her mind was too antsy and awake to stop thinking.
At last, it was time. For long years, she had waited for the One to rise up, and now, having traveled with him, she knew the impossible could happen. Only, her eyes were drawn to the turn of Zhane’s head, and she wished he would look up and acknowledge her. She stared as if her eyes could compel his gaze. Her feelings weren’t important. Her goal was to help the One, save the South World, and bring peace to the White Steeds so they could thrive without fear. No one should ever have to live in hiding again, knowing the day would come when all they loved would be massacred.
A thought she’d buried deep inside her heart threatened to spill over. She refused to let Zhane talk about it, although the regard in his eyes was plain to see. At least, she hoped he offered something more than friendship. There was a future she dreamed of, and she hoped Zhane dreamed of it too. It was easier when they were apart when he traveled the South World and she was in Truemonix. She kept rocking. If only he would glance her way, she needed to talk to him. They both would be traveling with Eliesmore to the Constel Heights, and she needed to know where their relationship stood.
Zhane looked up at her. A flicker of understanding passed over his eyes. He glanced at Idrithar who was marking routes on a map with his fingers as he spoke. Arldrine watched as Zhane glanced to Ellagine for help, silently begging her to intercede on his behalf.
“Idrithar.” Ellagine stepped over to him.
Idrithar straightened up, motioning for her to join him.
Arldrine beckoned to Zhane. “We have to talk,” she mouthed to him.
“I’ll follow you,” he whispered.
Arldrine stood up to leave, miscalculated, and her chair crashed to the floor. She mumbled an excuse about being tired as she slipped from the room, suddenly not caring whether Zhane followed her or not. She found her way up a flight of stairs to a balcony and let herself outside in the dark night. The air was cold; clouds covered the stars, increasing the blackness. A little light shone out, and
feeling the chill, Arldrine sat down and curled her knees up to her chest. She was strong. Only her feelings dared disobey. The unknown frightened her. She wanted everything to be all right, and they were set on that path. If anything got in her way, she could fight, although the fear of the Rakhai was strong. They had managed to frighten her, but she believed Eliesmore was the One and he would win in the end. She did not know where she fit in afterward. She knew her goal was to protect him and to help him in every way, and she couldn’t do that if…
“Arldrine?” a voice whispered.
She stood up, and there he was. “Zhane…” she began.
He shook his head as he reached out, pulling her closer to him. “Let’s not talk about it. We are going to help the One. If our minds are on the mission, what happens will happen.”
Arldrine sighed. The inner turmoil would not go away, but she was done fighting. She couldn’t help the next question that rose. She cursed herself as it drifted from her tongue. “Do you think that one day…?”
“Yes. I know the day will come when the One brings the world to peace and we can live unreservedly.” He turned to face Arldrine, his expression hidden in shadows as she bit her lip. “I’m living for you.”
Arldrine leaned forward, letting their foreheads touch. It was the first time they had alluded to what was there.
30
Eliesmore
Eliesmore woke to the glow of candlelight. He sat up, taking in the cave-like features of his sleeping quarters. It was an inner room with no windows. It was plain and simple with a bed in each corner and an arched door on one end. Wekin sat upright in his bed, whittling a piece of wood with his knife. The carving created a fine dust on his white blankets. Optimistic snored face down in a pile of pillows. Across from him, Yamier slept on his back. One of his arms were thrown over his face, shielding him from invisible light.
“Is it morning?” Eliesmore whispered to Wekin.
Wekin’s head snapped up as if Eliesmore were a ghost. His mouth turned into an “o” before he relaxed and shrugged, turning back to his knife work. Eliesmore waited, but no words came from Wekin. He stood, dressed, and, taking his sword, slipped from the room.
Silence buzzed around his ears as he walked the halls toward the kitchens, his boots thumping like drums on the stone floors. Passageways opened before him like a maze, and, like a thief, he slipped through doors, glancing behind to see if anyone were watching him lose his way in the sprawling fortress. It seemed the kitchens were lost to him until he saw daylight. He headed toward them, finding himself walking into a circular room full of windows. Carved golden columns rose at what would have been the corners of the chamber while the lights danced off each other, creating prisms. Suddenly, he felt like a child running off to find adventure and leaving his worried mother at the door.
He raised his foot to step farther into the room. A hush of reverence vibrated so strongly he almost removed his shoes. As his eyes took in the scene, he saw her. She had her back to him and was standing on a window seat, her nose pressed to the glass. Ink black hair fell to her neck. Her back was bare with silvery wings fluttering as they opened and closed, sending light twirling in a riot. The lights bounced off each other in glee. Eliesmore could see her ears, curved and pointed, sticking up above her head. The shape and size allowed her to hear better.
He rose up on his toes and took a step backward. His palms were sweaty as if he’d been caught stealing. He took another step, dropping his head to watch his feet, when, quick as a flash, the female spun around, paralyzing him with her eyes that shone like jewels. She floated for a moment before landing softly on her bare feet. She wore a halter-like outfit: short and scant that accented every move she made. She pointed an accusing finger. “You must be Eliesmore, the One ‘Song’ is sung about.”
“Yes.” Eliesmore’s voice trembled although he did not know why. She was only five feet tall, but her bare arms looked as if she could snap him in two and would enjoy every moment.
“I am Visra the Jesnidrain.” Her eyes flickered over him in disdain. “I am coming with you as one of your protectors. See!” She yanked a short sword from her sheath and waved it much too close to Eliesmore’s face. “This is my sword, Énvictosry.”
Eliesmore gulped, understanding the unrest his companions had demonstrated at the last meal. If this was Visra, he couldn’t imagine traveling with her. It seemed she was more likely to kill him than protect him. “I see.” His voice came out strained.
Virsa put her sword away, a wicked smile lit up her face, and she giggled. “Eliesmore.” She tapped his shoulder with two fingers as she walked around him. “Are you scared of me?” She moved her face toward his, and he caught the tangy scent of sandalwood and something else, blood perhaps.
“Nooo.” He drew out the word, knowing she knew he was lying. “Why do you want to come?”
“Ha!” Visra turned her back to him, spreading her wings before tucking them into the skin of her back. Eliesmore felt revolted like he’d just watched a snake crawl out of its skin. “Maybe it’s because I want to help. Maybe it’s because I’m tired of hiding. Maybe…” She spun around and showed off a sharp row of pearly white teeth. “It’s because I’m bored and I want to kill things.”
Eliesmore squeaked. He couldn’t help it. He didn’t feel much like the One, especially since he was lost in the fortress and she terrified him. She sniggered and walked out of the room, pausing once she was halfway down the hall. “Are you coming?”
Eliesmore scrubbed the back of his neck, and he turned around, his face warm. “Where…where are you going?”
She wheeled around and continued to saunter down the hall, leaving Eliesmore no choice. He followed her to the kitchens where the heavy smell of food caused his nose to twitch. They walked in to find the three Mermis gathered around a table with Ellagine and Glashar. All heads snapped up. Eliesmore noticed they were all staring at Visra.
“Eliesmore.” Ellagine beckoned to him, her eyes roaming from Eliesmore to the Jesnidrain. “I see you met Visra.”
“I’m back.” Visra laughed. She showed all her teeth as she leaned over the table.
“Why are you here?” Glashar demanded, a golden glow of fury surrounding her. She spun to Ellagine. “Is she coming? I’m not going if she’s coming.”
“She’s coming?” Visra mimicked. “Well, I’m going. She can’t come.”
“Enough!” Ellagine snapped, holding her fists out. Green flames leaked from them. “The past is the past. Let it go! Let your differences drift away.”
Glashar gave Visra an animalistic hiss and crossed her arms, refusing to move. Visra frowned, throwing her words to Glashar: “This isn’t over.”
Glashar continued to glare at her, and Eliesmore shifted from foot to foot. “What are you looking at?” He pointed to the table where strange markings grew, writing themselves with invisible ink and disappearing again.
Ellagine placed her hand on the table, pausing the movement of the letters. “Languages, which you should learn. There is the language of the Iaen and the language of the Black Steeds.” The markings on the table changed into different words and different languages.
Eliesmore felt his guard come up as he stepped beside Ellagine, unable to read the words. “What is this?” He pointed to a language swirling around the table. It was made of visuals, yet their shapes seemed to warn him. He stared at the illusion of the carvings, finding no meaning until they faded away.
“These are the markings for the Valikai Dialect,” Ellagine explained. “It’s an old, peculiar tongue.”
Eliesmore cleared his throat. “Does anyone speak it?”
“It is time for the first meal,” Glashar snapped. She moved her hand over the table, and the markings disappeared.
Eliesmore took a step back like he’d been slapped. Ellagine touched his shoulder with two fingers, a light pressure meant to be a comfort. “We’ll discuss later,” she whispered.
31
Eliesmore
&nb
sp; Idrithar held up three fingers as he stood in the middle of the meeting room. Eliesmore shifted beside Optimistic, glancing at Ellagine for reassurance. They were all there. Four Crons. Two Tiders. Three Mermis. Eleven White Horses. Two Idrains. One Green Person. One Ezinck. Himself: a Blended One. Eliesmore scratched his sweaty neck, listening to the low hum of animosity scatter across the room. Could the others hear it? They sat in a circle, backs pressed into cold chairs while Idrithar paced the room. His intense gaze held their tongues silent as he spoke.
“Three deeds must be completed,” Idrithar began. “The first is to go to the Constel Heights and dissolve the Green Stone. As simple as it sounds, we have a problem. The Changers, whom we call the Dark Three, have sent their servants, the Rakhai, to hunt us down. As members of this company, our goal is to protect Eliesmore, the One, and Optimistic, Keeper of the Green Stone, until we reach the Constel Heights. This is not a quest for the faint of heart, nor for those who are desire life beyond this. Even as I speak, the Mermis of Spherical Land in the Western World have roused a great army of Xctas and Zikes to fight with us. They must cross miles of Oceantic, and there is no guarantee they will arrive at the Constel Heights in time. The Rakhai are aware the quickest route to the Constel Heights for us is through the lower Hill Countries, back through the Land of Lock. I propose we take the road north into the Sandg Sizge Hills, pass through the Torsilo Quarts, and cross the Jaded Sea in Truemonix.”
The Complete Four Worlds Series Page 81