The Complete Four Worlds Series

by Angela J. Ford

  “Ellagine,” he breathed. It seemed as if a claw of evil hung about him, sucking the power of light from the air.

  “I don’t tell you this to frighten you,” she said quickly, straightening. “You know why you are going on the quest, and with that decision comes knowledge. You have heard tales of heroes, but the lore of the world and the ways of the wicked have been hidden from you, with good reason. You do not want to know all the hidden secrets of the dark, but beware lest they lead you to devastation.”

  Eliesmore opened his mouth to speak and closed it, unsure of what else to say.

  68

  Eliesmore

  “Lead the way, Zhane,” Idrithar suggested after they had rested another day.

  The dim ray of sunrise cast shadowy hues across the cave, making the silver rock dance like a jeweled chandelier.

  Zhane weaved his way to the back of the cave while the company gathered their packs, doing their best to ignore half-healed wounds. Wekin had carved Arldrine a crutch; she leaned on it as she limped forward. The rest wore fresh bandages as they gritted their teeth, determined to travel through the pain.

  Zhane ran his hands over rock. He tapped some and put his ear on others, listening. At last, he paused at the boulder Eliesmore had leaned upon when he was talking to Ellagine. Placing his hands on the surface, Zhane pushed. The stone rolled away, revealing a square opening. “Watch your head,” he warned the company. Ducking, he stepped across.

  Yamier and Wekin were the first to follow, doing little to mask the curious grins on their faces. Optimistic hopped across, and Eliesmore followed. His eyes were wide as he stepped over the threshold onto a path. The pathway zigzagged through the mountain, widening as it went. The sides dropped away in a sharp incline, rolling down into the depths hundreds of feet below them. As they walked, Eliesmore found his eyes drawn upwards. Unlike the Holesmoles, the mountain of fire was full of light. Silver stalagmites hung down in clumps, reflecting silver and gold. At times, hints of rubies and green emeralds stood out, while it seemed flecks of silver covered the path.

  “Dranagin scales,” Zhane noted when Wekin picked them up, holding them to the light.

  “If there were a trade route, we’d be rich,” Yamier announced, snatching up a handful and dropping it into his pack.

  “Are there jewels down there?” Wekin tiptoed to the edge, peering over.

  “Do you plan to come back here to hunt?” Optimistic chuckled, his aura of ease imbuing the air with peace.

  Wekin’s eyes sparkled.

  “Treasure. Jewels.” Dathiem spoke up. “Yes, you can find them here. If you want them, you need to go through the dranagins. What are you going to do about them?”

  A ball of white smoke appeared above them, stretching into a ring before disappearing.

  “What was that?” Eliesmore exclaimed.

  “The dranagins have smoking contests,” Idrithar called from the rear of the company. “Never fear; they rarely come up here, but when the big one moves, the ground shakes. It is best to stay away from the edge.” Even as he spoke, he tripped, sending a scattering of rocks and scales rolling down the mountainside.

  “Idrithar.” Arldrine gasped, eyeing him with worry.

  “’Tis nothing,” he waved her concern away. “My balance is not what it was.”

  When evening fell, the company collapsed with exhaustion. Eliesmore’s ribs were sore, and he could see pain mirrored on everyone else’s faces. He sank down on the path, gasping for breath. Dathiem moved from one to the other, changing bandages and dropping a word of encouragement here and there. Zhane and Ellagine remained upright, keeping watch through the night.

  Billows of smoke continued to rise above the Green Company as they walked through the mountain of fire. Once they heard a dull roar, shaking the ground, but they walked on. Eliesmore held out his hands for balance, watching the silver stalagmites shiver from the vibrations. A note rang out, high and sweet. “The song of the mountain,” Zhane told them.

  “It’s beautiful,” Optimistic breathed, lifting his face.

  Eliesmore listened as the roar came again and the song bellowed out like chimes, cascading down upon them like a waterfall. The song made him forget his aches and pains; it thudded below his feet, winding into his heart as he walked.

  As evening fell, Dathiem announced, “The path ends soon; we will be out tomorrow.”

  “One day,” Wekin remarked. “I will come back here.”

  The Green Company relaxed, sitting down on the path to rest for the night. As they unwrapped leaves of mocholeach, a mushroom of fire and smoke blasted up from beneath the mountain, searing them with heat. Eliesmore jumped back, bumping into Optimistic as if he’d been burned.

  Idrithar stood, leaning over the edge as he walked a few paces back the way they had come. "The dranagins are waking up." As if responding, another mushroom of fire billowed up, and a roar vibrated in the deep as the air shifted. "We should leave!" Idrithar sprang back as a high-pitched screech echoed.

  A vibration shook the ground. Eliesmore pitched forward as he stood, losing his footing as his companions began to shout.

  “Run!”

  “Idrithar, stand back.”

  “Move.”

  “Hurry.”

  A rift split across the path, cutting Idrithar and Arldrine off from the company. Zhane pushed Eliesmore and Optimistic ahead as he turned back to help them.

  Visra spread her wings to lift off. A frown covered her face as her broken wing collapsed limply against her back. More cracks appeared under their feet. The gap separating Arldrine and Idrithar was widening.

  “Go!” Idrithar called. “Don’t wait.”

  "Come on," Zhane beckoned, encouraging them to leap across.

  Arldrine took a running start, jumping across the break in the path as a second roar split the air. This time they all heard the beating of wings as a creature rose toward them.

  Eliesmore ran, looking back to see if his companions were coming. He caught a glimpse of the beast as it wheeled above them. A tail swung through the air, bursting a cluster of silver stalactites. They crashed toward the path above Idrithar.

  “Idrithar,” Wekin screamed. “Watch out.”

  Idrithar leaped as the stalactites disintegrated into crystal and fell. The path groaned as it opened wider like a yawning mouth.

  Eliesmore froze, watching the crystals.

  Idrithar landed on both feet as another roar ripped through the mountain. A mushroom of fire went up, clouding the air with smoke. A winged beast twirled through the smoke. Its great claws reached out as it snatched at Idrithar. Eliesmore could see the defeat on Idrithar’s face. “Go. Don’t look for me.”

  The crystals shattered across the path, the road split, and the dranagin roared. It seemed to Eliesmore that Idrithar folded his arms across his chest and leaped into the gap in the road as the dranagin flew above him.

  A numbness consumed Eliesmore as he stared. Faintly he heard a terrible screaming echo and reecho through the mountain of fire.

  “No, no, no!” Wekin shrieked. “Idrithar! Come back!”

  Zhane grabbed Arldrine. “We must go on. Run.” His words came out weak, and his face was pale.

  Eliesmore sank down on the path. He felt Optimistic grab his shoulder, pulling him back up. “We mustn’t stop,” Optimistic told him in a broken voice.

  “Run,” Zhane whispered. Everyone was frozen and stunned, staring down at the place where Idrithar had fallen. “Líhíthír,” Zhane commanded in Iaen.

  Dathiem took the lead as they stumbled forward, gaining speed as grief swept through them. Eliesmore’s ribs were sore as he ran, feeling as if a beast had sat on his heart. After all they had been through and after all the dangers, Idrithar was gone. Gone. The word burned his brain like hot tongs of fire. The horrible nightmare played and replayed in his mind. The path split open. The crystals fell. The dranagin dived. Idrithar fell.

  He wished it were a vision as the Green Company ran out of the
mountain into the dampness of the night. They moved onward beneath the stars. They continued as fire lit up the mountains. The ground continued to vibrate under their feet, and Eliesmore let his thoughts fade.

  Much later, he heard Dathiem say, “We have to stop soon, Zhane; everyone is too tired to go on.”

  Zhane hung his head, taking deep shuddering breaths. “You’re right. We have traveled all night.”

  Eliesmore threw himself down on a soft patch of grass. When he woke, his companions were still sleeping. Glashar kept watch. Her large eyes were concerned as she glanced at him, giving him the briefest nod of acknowledgment.

  Eliesmore ate some dried meat as he climbed to a high ledge to observe his surroundings. He felt a lump in his throat as he surveyed the blue sky. It seemed much closer than usual, almost as if he could reach out and touch it. To the west, a group of dark clouds covered the sky; beyond them, white peaks glistened in daylight. These were sights Idrithar would never see again. Again, the nightmare rose before his eyes. The path split open. The crystals fell. The dranagin dived.

  Eliesmore crossed his arms, shivering in the face of despair as he kept watch. His companions woke and ate at intervals before passing out again, yet the temptation of more sleep did not sway him. As the day was drawing to a close, Eliesmore heard a distant sound coming from the mountain of fire. Howls echoed through the foothills, arousing a strong determination within him. He clenched his fists. Not this time. “Wothemoc,” he called.

  Zhane shook himself awake; his eyes were red, and his face was drawn. He stroked his chin before bowing his head in remembrance.

  “The Rakhai are out there. It sounds like they are traveling in the mountains of fire,” Eliesmore informed Zhane.

  Zhane nodded, running his fingers through his hair. “We should go then.”

  Arldrine limped up to him; she’d lost her crutch somewhere in the tussle. Standing tall, she made a fist and placed it on her breast. “Not without a moment of silence for Idrithar.”

  “Aye.” Zhane nodded his head.

  Eliesmore climbed down from the ledge as the ten members of the Green Company came together in a circle. Eliesmore put his hand on his heart and bowed his head. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Yamier and Wekin brushing away tears. Optimistic's face was a mixture of shock and disbelief. A deep sorrow consumed them as they stood in silence, accepting with bitter regret the loss of their leader, one of the Wise Ones, Idrithar the Cron.

  Dathiem was the first to open his eyes and raise his head. He began to sing a mournful lament. Optimistic joined him. Their sonorous voices carried the somber tune through the air. Eliesmore felt the lament deep in his heart. He opened his mouth. He knew which words his tongue should sing next. He reached out a hand, placing it on Optimistic’s shoulder. He placed the other on Zhane’s shoulder. Optimistic copied his movements until they stood as one with their voices and arms entwined as they mourned the loss of a fellow White Steed.

  As they sang, Eliesmore saw the stars in the sky go out one by one like a candle losing its flame. A dark cloud covered the heavens, and a strong wind began to blow. When the last note died away, all that was left was a cloud of darkness, and the Green Company felt their hearts heavy with sadness. Across the misty mountains, dark and cold, snow began to fall, thick and fast.

  69

  Dathiem

  Dathiem stood on a mountain slope, shivering in the cold as he kept watch. He wished for a draught of wine to keep him warm. Since the loss of Idrithar, they’d traveled for days into the cold and snow. They had been lucky to find a grove of trees to rest in. It kept out the driving wind. Dathiem rubbed his hands, blew on them, and tucked them into his cloak as he watched the white world dance around him. The snow would only get worse the farther they went.

  He felt a presence behind him. Thinking it was Glashar, he turned to find Arldrine. She limped to a fallen log outside of the camp and perched on it, letting the snowflakes settle on her hands and feet.

  Dathiem took in her appearance. Like the rest, she was thin, weary from travel, and he could see the telltale signs of pain behind her eyes. He moved to join her. “Winds are strong,” he remarked. “More snow is coming.”

  Arldrine nodded and pulled her cloak tighter around herself. “I’m not sure what to do anymore.”

  A cold shadow passed over Dathiem at her words. “What do you mean?”

  “Dathiem,” Arldrine began again. “You are one of Zhane’s closest friends. He is our leader now, and I don’t know how to tell him.” Her voice broke off, and she turned to stare at the effects of the wind.

  “Ah,” Dathiem replied; he understood what she was trying to say. “Give me your foot.”

  Arldrine sighed, lifting her leg onto his lap. “Dathiem, I can’t walk much longer. I can’t go on. I need to stop here in the mountains and get better. The company has to go on without me. I’m slowing us down, but how can I tell Zhane?”

  Dathiem took his time answering as he re-bandaged Arldrine’s foot. “You’re right; you shouldn’t be walking on it. You will have a permanent limp if you don’t stop.”

  Arldrine bit her lip. “I don’t want to leave.”

  “I can’t do more for you; my healing supplies are exhausted. I’m sorry,” Dathiem said. “You need to talk to him. Tell Zhane.”

  “How? How?” Arldrine whispered to the wind.

  Silence.

  “Dathiem.” Arldrine clasped her hands in her lap. “How do you do it with Glashar?”

  “Do what?” Dathiem furrowed his brows, not comprehending the question.

  “Love her and stay focused on the quest?” Arldrine asked in a rush, wisps of cold air wafting from her mouth.

  A small smile came to Dathiem’s lips. “How do you breathe and walk? It’s simple. You think too much and too hard. Let your worries go. Let it be.”

  Arldrine folded her fingers into fists. Her face took on a look of misery. She dropped her eyes. “I can’t. I don’t know how.”

  Dathiem said nothing. He sat beside her and stared out into the white world. He wondered how devastated Zhane would feel when Arldrine told him. He found his eyes straying toward Glashar, who wasn’t sleeping but listening instead. Always listening. She couldn’t use her shoulder. The power of the Iaens was fading in the west.

  70

  Eliesmore

  From that day onward, things gradually grew worse for the company as they traveled deeper into the snowy mountains. August deepened into September, and the days went by, one the same as the other. Eliesmore watched the twinkling stars go out, one by one, just like a candle, as a dark cloud covered them. Winds blew strong and cold across the barren land. It was mixed with a dizzying blur of snowflakes.

  They lost the Rakhai, and howls no longer echoed through the mountains. The company had a rough time going through what seemed like a wall of snow. The three Iaens and Arldrine could walk above it while the others had to waddle their way through it. Often, they spent nights in a grove of trees sheltered from the wind. If they didn’t find shelter, they would press on, never taking the risk of freezing to death in the snow. But then the trees started growing farther and farther apart, and seldom did a night pass in which they would not have to walk further in order to find protection. Eliesmore longed for a hot, dry desert; he was tired of being cold and wet.

  One day, Glashar announced she saw woísts in the distance. They still had not healed from the attack of the Rakhai; Dathiem had said they weren’t resting enough and were traveling too much. He had run out of medicinal plants and could do nothing more. The cold and wet snow only made the healing process slower.

  As Eliesmore pushed through the snow that day, he thought if they ever did get out, it wouldn’t be without a fight with the woísts while being half frozen. He wondered how the woísts had caught up with them and if the Rakhai had sent them. Eliesmore sighed. They were hungry, cold, wounded, and altogether miserable. Wekin and Yamier were the only ones who carried packs, which were only half full of fr
ozen food. Eliesmore didn’t know what would sustain them when it was gone.

  Suddenly, a strong wind whipped up, blowing snow into their faces. Eliesmore put his head down, trying to keep the hard snow from hitting him. He heard Zhane shouting above the roar of the wind: “Single file! Follow me! Be careful to keep up!”

  Zhane pushed his way ahead, breaking a path for the others. Optimistic, Eliesmore, Wekin, Yamier, and Dathiem followed closely behind. Last came Arldrine, Ellagine, Visra, and Glashar. Soon the strong wind threatened to blow the company over. Eliesmore struggled in the wind. If it hadn’t been for the wall of snow, three feet tall on either side of them, he could not have kept his balance. His movements rolled into a blur as he kept putting one cold foot in front of the other. Time was as tedious as a relentless sun on a hot day. Suddenly he heard a cry; someone was shouting something in Iaen. It was one of the Idrains.

  Eliesmore jerked. His hand fumbled for his sword hilt. Were the woísts catching up? He tried to look, but all he could see was a world of white. His companions were gone. He took a deep breath, stopping the panic. “Zhane!” he called. And then he called, “Optimistic! Yamier! Wekin!” The wind threw his words back in his mouth almost before he could get them out.

  Again, Eliesmore heard a shout from behind: “I see it! I see it! Zhane, look up ahead!”

  What could be seen in the blinding wind? Eliesmore knew not, but he was grateful to find his companions still surrounded him, although they were unseen. He struggled to look ahead, tugging his cloak further over his head. His eyelids were frosted, and his body was numb with cold. Even so, he thought he saw a light. He blinked. It disappeared. He squinted as the wind lessened. After a few more feet, the snow ceased. His speed increased as he moved forward and the wind stopped altogether.