“Are you making an official order, Rajah?” she asked, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she spoke to him in Elvish, testing the waters between them.
“Would it make a difference if I did, Nature Walker?” he replied in rumbly Elvish, his face covered with a toothy grin. Gin laughed.
“Has it ever? Of course, I’ll go with you. A chance to get out of this stuffy palace would do us both good. It will feel good to sleep rough again…if you intend to do so, that is?” Sath tilted his head to one side and looked at her, puzzled. “I seem to remember your palace staff scrambling to prepare your portable palace when we started out after Khujann once, a long time ago…” Gin bit her tongue. The reason she had seen all that prep was that she was in the dungeon. Memories—of Sath filling the doorway to her cell and roaring at her, bloodlust shining in his eyes—filled her mind, and she scowled.
Sath knew precisely what she was remembering. “That time is over, Gin. We both have…we both need a new start. I might even let you speak that awful sounding language of yours.” Gin smiled at his Elvish, flawless as always.
“Let me? Don’t forget who you’re dealing with, Qatu.” She took his large hand with her tiny hands and removed it from her face. He frowned but understood. There was a great deal that had to happen between them, and the hunt they would embark on in the morning was just a start.
“Never, not as long as you are around, darlin',” he said, smiling as her upturned face erupted in a smile at the use of the nickname. “Now, I suppose we should turn in…shall I have my ladies draw your bath?” Gin nodded, yawning as she rose from the cushion. Before he had a chance to get to his feet, she walked over to him and planted a light kiss on his furry forehead.
“Good night, Sath,” she said, and he closed his eyes, happily drowning in the scent of sunflowers she left in her wake as she headed to her quarters. She felt him stir in the back of her mind and assured him she was all right before she shut him out. Her mind was on other things—things that were brought to the forefront with thoughts of traveling and sleeping rough, and she wasn’t quite ready to share them just yet. She rubbed the back of her neck as she slipped into the warm comfort of the bath. Soon enough, she would share that part of her with him—but now was not the time.
Five
The Outpost, near the Ikedrian Embassy
Ellie had not moved from her meditative pose for several hours. She tried to stand, but her legs and feet would not cooperate at first, and she almost fell flat on her face. This must be why her mentor would levitate above the ground during his meditation. With an Eldyr word and a twist of her wrist, a column of air solidified under her unsteady feet. Ellie floated a foot or so off the ground. She smiled and willed herself to move toward the Ikedrian embassy as she rolled up her mat and buckled it onto her haversack.
It felt like many seasons had passed since Ellie left Ikedria. The Guardians insisted that an embassy was built within the Outpost, so that was the closest she got to a trip home. The Ikedrians sent their ambassador, but very few of them came with her—most likely due to their familiarity with her mother, A'chrya Q’Indyrk, Ellie’s former guild master, and quite possibly the cruelest of all the guild masters in the underground city. Her people’s warriors were put through excruciating physical trials, beaten nearly to the point of death, nursed back to health, and then put through the same sequence of events again—but they knew what was coming and knew there would be an end to their suffering. Ambassador Q’Indyrk, on the other hand, excelled in psychological torture—claiming that her methods created wizards that were not scared of anything or anyone, and who were always on alert and never easily overwhelmed.
Ambassador Q’Indyrk, who was only a few years older than Ellie, was widely known to be somewhat different from her mother. She was still the stereotypical dark elf female—stern, intolerant, and not terribly friendly with those other than her own kind. As far as Ellie knew, though, she was quite popular with the heads of the noble houses in that she had not taken a mate. To become the spouse of the ambassador would mean a considerable raise in status for any of the eligible young males. Frequently Ellie reminded herself, with some sadness, how lucky she and Kamendar were to have escaped from the trappings of Ikedrian nobility.
But today she was going to see the ambassador on purpose, to request space within the embassy to live and study. Since the death of her mentor, Ellie had been living in a rented accommodation above one of the taverns. Now that her research was moving towards a workable endpoint—one that she felt sure would have greatly pleased her mentor—she needed privacy for some of the more involved experiments. Also, there were strange times that she lost track of time and herself, and those were times that she wanted to know where she would be when she again became aware. Those missing parts of her memory were concerning, but somehow when she tried to remember what had happened and couldn’t, she wasn’t overly concerned. It felt as though she was being protected, in a way, from events that occurred during the blanks—but it still bothered her, especially when she came back to herself somewhere different than the last place she remembered being. The safety of the embassy would alleviate some of those fears. Ellie took a deep breath before she rang the doorbell in the middle of the large marble doors on the front of the embassy. A dragon with the tail of a snake writhed on the door as the doorbell sounded. Though unnerving to outsiders, to Ellie, it was a reminder of home—the home that she left behind so many years ago.
“Name?” Ellie came back from her musing and looked up slightly into the piercing gaze of a male of her species. He was from the warrior guild—the crossed pupils that were a racial marker of the Ikedrians in his eyes were completely black—unlike her own red ones.
“Ellie—err, Elspethe is my given name.”
“Surname?”
“None.”
“House?”
“I said no surname.” The warrior glared at her, drawing his eyebrows into a point in the middle of his forehead.
“Everyone has a surname or a house. What is yours?”
Ellie fisted her hands at her sides and looked up at the warrior. She pushed into his mind, just as Taeben had taught her to do. So easy. “I have no surname, and you will take me to see the Ambassador immediately.” He blinked a few times and then nodded.
“This way, mistress.” Ugh—that was a point to work on, making sure they didn’t call her mistress straight away. Taeben had not taught her how to change that because he rather enjoyed it when his victims called him master. His face filled her mind now as she followed the warrior through the embassy’s broad hallways, and she felt her heart twinge in response. After all these years, she still missed him. He was the only one that had understood her, and it had become her life’s work to avenge him and finish his spell work. “You may wait here for the Ambassador. I will inform her of your arrival.” He indicated a row of chairs pushed up against one of the stark white marble walls.
“Thank you.” You will forget that you have ever seen me once you do, is that clear? He nodded at her and then walked away, and she sank into one of the dark purple velvet chairs to wait. Thankfully her wait was not long, and it was only a few minutes before Ambassador Q’Indyrk appeared at the end of the row of chairs, almost out of thin air. She was not much younger than Ellie, but seemed larger than life thanks to the confidence she wore like a mantle.
“Come with me,” she barked at Ellie, who was out of her chair and following the ambassador before the female had reason to repeat the command. The ambassador’s dark aubergine colored locks of hair kept time with her robe, swaying back and forth as she walked, causing the chain of office that she wore on her shoulders to clink and clank as its links collided with each other. “This way.” She opened a door with the word for ‘Interview’ in D’leesh carved into the stained wood, and Ellie just made it through before it slammed behind her. A chair that put the luxurious purple seats to shame sat against one of the walls, and the ambassador gracefully sat down, lacing her fingers in her lap
as she stared at Ellie. The entire picture reminded Ellie so much of her own mother she nearly took a knee in reverence. “Well? Don’t waste my time, girl. What do you want?”
“Ambassador, I come before you today to request sanctuary within the walls of the embassy.” Ellie had planned out and memorized her speech, but as she spoke to the ambassador now, she had the strangest sensation that she was not alone in the room with the noblewoman. A voice—a male voice, one that was almost familiar but not wholly so—came in under her own voice, speaking the words with her. It was as though—but no, that was not possible. He was dead. “I am formerly of a noble House of Ikedria, but was taken prisoner, and my house destroyed several seasons ago.”
“You told my guard that you have no surname or house.” The ambassador looked down her hawkish nose at Ellie, who shrank back a bit from the stare. But there was that voice again, that feeling that she was not alone—and she stood a little straighter before continuing.
“Ambassador, I am certain that you are familiar with House Turlach?” The woman staring back at Ellie paled a bit but regained her composure.
“Of course I am. Everyone in noble society in Ikedria was devastated when that House was lost to the great fire a few years back. What of it?”
“I am of House Turlach.” Ellie lifted her chin as she had seen her mother do when she was but a child, and as she and Maelfie had done when imitating their mother at night in their room. The ambassador studied her for a moment, her carefully and expensively manicured nails pressed to her lips—and then she laughed. “I fail to see why that is funny, ambassador.”
“It is not funny, child. It is downright ridiculous!” Ambassador Q’Indyrk wiped a tear away from her eye. “No one survived the fire that wiped out that House. Both Kamendar and his younger sister, Elspethe-”
“I am Elspethe Turlach.”
“Outrageous.” The ambassador waved her hand dismissively at Ellie. “Now, off with you, I have more important things requiring my attention.” Not only did Ellie not leave, but she also moved between the ambassador and the only doorway in the room.
“I can prove it.” This was the moment that she would first test the spell work that she had been painstakingly researching and restoring from Taeben’s notes and spellbooks. She thought of him—his alabaster skin and silver eyes—and pushed her way into the ambassador’s mind. Memories—all falsehoods that Ellie had worked hard to create and memorize—flooded into the woman’s mind. House Turlach was not destroyed. Elspethe was kidnapped by wood elves. Kamendar was killed. Elspethe escaped and now sought sanctuary. “And you see, Ambassador, I cannot return to Ikedria under my real name. They will come for me again. Would you not see such a noble house restored here, in your embassy? Just think of the wealth that would be afforded to a servant of our cursed Father, who works with such a highborn house to restore it to glory?” She paused a moment, concerned that she had pushed too far. Taeben had warned her of that possibility, and the dire consequences to the mind being controlled. The ambassador smiled at her, and Ellie released a breath that she had not realized she had been holding.
“You will make sure that the other Houses know of my sacrifice? You will make sure that they hear how I saved House Turlach?” Ellie fought back a grin and nodded serenely.
“You will be sure to go down in the history of our people as a hero, Ambassador.” She pushed back into the ambassador’s mind for a moment, looking for a specific memory. Perfect. “You will be more revered than your mother by far.” She felt the other female’s agreement fall into place like a bolt into a lock on a door.
“What do you need from me?”
“I need space to live and work here within the embassy, and I do not mean servants’ quarters.”
“Oh, of course not—only the best for the last surviving member of House Turlach.”
Ellie smiled as she took the ambassador’s hand in hers. The woman flinched—it was not like their kind to offer or receive such intimate gestures. Ellie ramped up her control once again, and the ambassador visibly relaxed, not flinching as Ellie conjured a bit of electrical magic that fizzled as it carved a small sigil into the ambassador’s wrist. It branded her a servant of House Turlach—Ellie had seen her parents do the same to her house servants when she was a child, and she and her siblings bore the same sigil on the backs of their necks. “I cannot thank you enough, Ambassador.”
“I live to serve, Lady Turlach.”
By the end of the day, Ellie was settled into a suite on the top floor of the embassy. She had a bedchamber with an attached bathroom, a meager kitchen that was more than she had been used to at home, and three rooms for her work. One of the rooms had a desk that covered the entire corner, with shelves built into the walls above it. Ellie walked through all of the rooms over and over, running her fingers along the cold marble walls and doors that contained no magical strips of light to burn her fingers or spots where water dripped down from the ceiling. There were windows in the room, presumably because the embassy was built by the Guardians for other purposes before the Ikedrians took it over. Still, they had heavy shutters that could completely block out the light in the rooms. Ellie found that she didn’t mind being above ground as much as she had when she lived in Ikedria—she rather enjoyed watching sunrises and sunsets, as she had seen many of them with Taeben and it made her feel closer to him.
The ambassador agreed to send some servants to fetch Ellie’s belongings, and as she was taking in the shades of indigo and purple in the sunset, a knock at the door startled her. She assumed the stern countenance of her people and crossed the room to the hallway to open the door. The servants had indeed arrived, and carried with them boxes and bags full of clothing, books, and other implements of her research. “Be careful with that!” she snapped at one young male who was balancing her large mortar and pestle in one hand and a stack of books in the other. He stared at her, clearly not comprehending, so she repeated herself in D’leesh. He carefully set the books down on the desk and then turned back to her, cradling the mortar and pestle in both hands.
“Would you like this in the kitchen, Lady Turlach?”
“On the desk, and then the lot of you get out of my apartment!” She felt herself frowning and the temptation to enter their minds was strong, but she resisted. They quickly put down what they had brought and scurried out the door, and Ellie once again found herself alone with her books—and his writings. She rummaged about until she found one of her favorite volumes—the last journal that Taeben wrote before he...
Before you left me, Taeben. I know it is silly of me to still try to reach you in the bond, A'chrya, but I have a feeling that one of these times, you will actually be there.
The silence was her only answer, as always. But the feeling was still there—Taeben was still there. Wanting it to be so would not make it so, she decided, and so she put the journal to one side and moved on to continue unpacking the books and putting them on the shelves. It was time—her contacts within the Ikedrian spy network had told her that the Rajah was planning to travel and that the wood elf was going with him. “You may not be able to hear me, A'chrya Taeben, but I will avenge you. I will feed those traitors to the Mother Dragon if it is the last thing I do.”
Six
The Start of the Journey
Gin was meditating as she sat cross-legged on the ground in front of the palace when Sath arrived the next morning. She had her haversack on her back and several small bags attached to a belt around her waist. Across her knees, she held her staff, a sign of her status as Nature Walker among druids outside of the Great Forest. Her auburn locks were pulled back into a neat ponytail at the nape of her neck—a departure from the elaborate braid she wore when acting as the Nature Walker—and Sath could imagine a pleasant afternoon of doing nothing but counting the freckles on her cheekbones. He cleared his head and walked up behind her on silent Qatu feet.
“Finally, I thought we were leaving at first light,” she said without opening her eyes as a grin sp
read across her face. Sath matched her expression with a toothy grin of his own. Gin’s abilities to track were unrivaled—he was sure she had known he was approaching before he had gotten close, despite his race’s ability to creep with great stealth.
“You didn’t have a son to leave in charge of your entire kingdom, Gin. Khuj wanted me to tell him how to get into the royal storehouses and what the passwords are for the bankers and all sorts. Luckily Hulan already knows those things and thinks of Khuj as his own, so he was a great help,” Sath said, grinning. He held out a hand for her, but she rose on her own, leaning on her staff. “He arrived last night but…didn’t want me to wake you to say hello, so I’m doing it for him. You all right?”
“Aye, it’s just a bit early,” Gin said. In truth, she had not slept much the night before, old thoughts and fears surfacing about being alone with Sath followed by nightmares—a typical night for her, really. While it was true that Sath had not made any sort of untoward advance on her and she knew in her rational mind that she was perfectly safe with him, memories haunted her. He was Rajah now, but he had slipped in and out of being the Bane of the Forest so many times, and with such ease, she was just not sure that she should genuinely trust him. It was easy enough to slip into the stony façade of the Nature Walker, but that didn’t allow her to let him into her mind – or heart. Wasn’t that what this journey was about, after all?
Sath had walked on ahead when he looked back over his shoulder to find Gin deep in thought. “Too early to figure out how to get to the coast, is it?” he teased, and she finally cracked a grin and ran to catch up with him. “Surely you remember your way to the royal marina, yes? Our boat is waiting and –“
Darkness: A Guardians of Orana Novel Page 5