“Are you sure about that? I am not asking for that, Sath, please don’t misunderstand me…”
“I do not misunderstand anything. You are willing to share everything about you with me, so why wouldn’t I be willing to do the same? But you’re right, not now. We need to get moving while the sun is up, and at least make our way through to the forest.”
“Where are we headed?” Gin asked.
“I’m not sure, to be honest.” He stood up and leaned on his staff a moment, then held out a hand to her to help her up. Gin took it without hesitation, making him smile.
“I like that plan. I like the idea of wandering. It’s what we druids do, after all,” she said.
“Well, only the ones with poor senses of direction,” Sath said, chuckling. Gin beamed a smile up at him that stopped his heart for a moment, and then started out ahead of him. Sath grabbed her arm and pulled her back. “Hey, let me go first this time, okay?”
Gin chuckled. “Fine, and my name is certainly NOT Elysiam, so you don’t have to worry about me running off ahead of you…unless there is something I need to jump off…”
Sath grabbed Gin by the arm and swung her around. “I am only going to tell you this once more,” he hissed, his giant teeth close to her face. “You are never to jump off anything tall as you did that tower again, do you understand me?” Gin stared up at him in silence. “Please…if you want me to trust you, I am asking you not to do that again, ever, and not to even joke about it.”
“I’m sorry. I will do my best.” Her voice was laden with emotion, but her face was a solemn mask.
“Fair enough,” he said. “Now, let’s go, we need to make it to that forest by nightfall. More cover there.” Gin nodded, and Sath turned on his heel and headed out.
Nine
Alynatalos and the Outpost, Revisited
Ellie perched in a tree just outside of the front gates to the city of Alynatalos. Taeben had given her directions to find his hidden journals, and all she had to do was make it past the guards at the front gate. She wondered if they could see through her invisibility magic as she watched travelers go in and out the magnificent golden entrance. Only it wasn’t magnificent to her, it was gaudy and bright. The high elves really were proud of themselves and their city, clearly, and chose the most brazen way to show it. How many young ones could be fed with the money used to buy all that gold? Taeben’s stories were charming – they made her long to be like him, like those from Alynatalos. She scowled and then noticed a wood elf headed for the entrance. What caught her attention was that the young female was under an invisibility spell, and she was able to slip past the guards without them giving her as much as a nod. Ellie’s heart soared. She had been right to also cast a spell allowing her to see those that were invisible to the naked eye, and now she had her entry to Alynatalos.
She shimmied down the tree as quietly as she could and recast her invisibility spell before hurrying along toward the front gate. Running as fast as she could, she slipped past the guards and into the city, pausing only to pull a map out of a hidden pocket in her robes. The drawing and the handwriting on the map gave her pause…it was in his hand. “Not now,” she chided herself. These journals held powerful information—that overruled her grief. “Emotion is a weakness, and weakness is death.” How many times had he made her repeat that very phrase? She turned the map around until she figured out where she was and then began moving deeper into the high elf citadel.
Inside the gates, there was a drawbridge leading the inner part of the city. Ellie crossed it and took the left tunnel through the thick walls that fortified the city. She marveled at how cleverly the high elves had built their home into the side of a large rock outcropping so that its strength could provide layers of protection to the city. It was almost as clever as her own kind building deep into the ground—almost—but the gilt face of everything here ruined any plans of secrecy. Ellie chuckled, thinking that one could probably spot Alynatalos from the front of the moon, it was just that shiny.
The tunnel opened up into a much smaller space, surrounded by hedges that were bursting with white flowers. The smell was overpowering, and it was all Ellie could do to hold in a voracious sneeze. How did they live like this? She wound her way through the labyrinthine streets, her gaze ever on Taeben’s map. Finally, she spotted the archways he had carefully drawn at the bottom and knew she was on the right track. The tile of the pathway gave way to grass once she was beyond the archway and more of those hedges with the potent smelling white flowers. Ellie moved quickly toward what seemed to be a single tower, situated in the middle of the grass and surrounded on all sides by the thick hedge. On closer investigation, the hedges were actually stone walls—part of the mountain most likely—covered with whatever the plant was that made up the hedges in the front part of the city. After consulting her map one more time, Ellie stepped onto a glowing platform that was partially hidden by the vines and plants and closed her eyes as instructed. When she opened them, she was inside the tower. Wizard magic never ceased to amaze her.
Still invisible, she ran to the room listed on the map and soon was inside, digging through a trunk in the back corner. Taeben’s initiate robes were in the chest, and Ellie took a moment to press her face into the green and velvety fabric and inhale deeply. Usually, the sweet aroma that seemed to follow the high elf would have turned her stomach a bit, but this belonged to her A’chrya, and she missed him so desperately that she almost burst into tears. Instead, Ellie carefully folded the robes and placed them in the trunk before continuing to look for his journals. Ultimately she found them, their leather covers cool and smooth under her fingers, bound up in a leather strap at the very bottom of the trunk. Ellie just gawked at the journals for a moment or two, unable to pick them up. Chiding herself again, she reached into the trunk and removed the journals, tucking them quickly into her robes. Ellie rechecked the hallway and upon finding it empty, cast a quick spell of transportation that would take her to the Outpost. She hugged the journals to her chest tightly as she disappeared in a ring of magical fire.
The grass in the Outpost came up under her feet suddenly, and once again, she felt her head swimming. Perhaps it was time to see one of the healers at one of the guild houses. Her kind only believed in medicine if it was to save the life of a warrior in battle or bring a new life into the world. None of the healers in the embassy would see her for a little dizziness. Ellie wandered along from the wizard spire and soon found herself in front of the Fabled Ones Great Hall. This had been Taeben’s guild, once. She wondered if there were any Ikedrians inside, as she was sure she had seen every other race of Orana enter and leave the building.
Before she even realized what she was doing, Ellie’s hand was pressed against the heavy door to the Great Hall, and she took a startled step backward. “Watch it, inker,” came a gruff voice from behind her. “Places to go, things to kill.” She spun to respond to the racial slur but stopped when she saw the amount of armor and weapons on the dwarf that was staring at her curiously. “Oh, I shouldn’t have said that—can you hear me? Oi! Girl! Move!” His green armor seemed the color of the grass, and she could swear that was dried blood on his axe blade and handle. She took a step back, and he passed her, cursing under his breath, and then slammed a meaty hand against the door to the Great Hall.
Nothing happened. “What the?” The dwarf picked his hand up and looked at his palm, then carefully replaced it against the door. This time, Ellie could see that he was tripping tiny locks that were made into the engraving on the door. Clever, very clever. He pushed the door again and still, nothing. “Lovely, just bloody lovely. How am I supposed to catch up with Sath if I can’t get into the hall to get the map he’s left me? I don’t even know where they are anyway,” he muttered under his breath as he turned around. His countenance softened as he saw Ellie, who was still gaping at him. “Sorry for scaring you there, flower. You all right, then? No excuse for rudeness.”
“It’s all right,” she said. Ellie was not
accustomed to speaking the common tongue—her parents and brother had forbidden it at home. The dwarf clapped her on the shoulder, almost sending her sprawling forward, muttering angrily as he left about the locks being changed. She thought she heard him say only Gin and Sath could change them. Ellie grinned wildly despite herself—if only the Rajah and the Nature Walker could affect the locks and they suddenly wouldn’t work, that was more proof that if not dead, they were trapped in the Void. Her day was just getting better and better. She turned to be on her way back to the embassy when one of the blackouts hit—but this time, she was alert throughout.
Everything was dark all around her, but she could still hear and smell and feel—she just could not speak or see. Expecting pain from falling down the stairs, she was startled at the sensation of standing up and walking—in what direction she could not say. She could feel the ground under her feet as they walked, only she was not moving them. Ellie fought against the scream that was trying desperately to escape her by paying attention to every detail she could. Her toe hit a root. Someone said hello to her, and she heard herself answer! Inhaling sharply, she caught the scent of fresh bread and recognized it as a small bread stand near the embassy. Her embassy! She was at least headed in the right direction.
She tried to flex her fingers and cried out silently as a mild electric shock coursed through her hand. It was not unlike touching the magic ropes back home, the ones she had been warned against as a child. Still moving, she felt the ground under her feet change from the soft grass and gravel terrain of the Outpost to the hard marble floors inside the embassy. Another inhale, and she could make out the incense that the ambassador kept burning in the sconces on the walls—the scent was said to be a favorite of Father Ikara. At least she was in the correct embassy. The smooth floor changed to stairs, and she could feel the cold marble walls under her fingers as her body climbed the spiral staircase that led to her quarters. Was this what happened every time she had a fainting spell? Someone else—something else took control of her body and marched her around like a marionette? Again, Ellie’s soul screamed out into the Void that surrounded her at the moment—what else was that something or someone doing with her when she was unaware?
Dark flower, the things you think of me! I would never— I thought you trusted me.
Ellie fought and thrashed against the darkness. Someone was impersonating her A’chrya, and it could not be for any good purpose. She screamed silently to be released; she called out with a soundless voice to Father Ikara to save her.
Father Ikara. That is rich. Your Father cannot help you, he lost his magic ages ago. He is impotent and weak. I could still save you, but you do not trust me.
Ellie retreated down into the furthest refuge of her mind, where her magic lived and seethed. She hid there, as a child crouched behind a tree, hiding in a game of tag. The darkness grew more intense, almost angry, but she ignored it. Emotion is a weakness, and weakness is death. Emotion is a weakness, and weakness is death. Emotion is a weakness, and weakness is death.
Suddenly everything was very bright, too bright, and loud and just too much all at once. Ellie opened her eyes and could see that she was in her bedchamber in the embassy, tucked into her bed. She drew back the duvet to find that she was still wearing her traveling cloak from her trip to Alynatalos, but that her pack and other traveling gear had been stowed neatly away. She rose from the bed slowly, expecting the pounding headache that always followed one of the dizzy spells, but it was not there. Ellie moved to the sitting room for a moment, her hand pressed to her mouth. All of the journals that she had retrieved from Alynatalos were stacked neatly on her desk, and one of them was open as though it had just been read moments ago.
“Did I -?” She crossed the room to the desk and, with trembling fingers, turned the book around so that she could read it. It was not her master’s handwriting. It was in the language of the elves and seemed to be some kind of a journal. She turned the pages, rubbing at her weary eyes to improve her vision as she stared at the language she knew almost better than her own. “Calder’s Port—Lena Calder—orb. Well, what does that mean?” The words were circled in red ink, and she startled when she noticed fresh ink in the well and a quill lying on the desk next to the book. She read further down the page. “Orb has Ikara’s power.” Her finger traced an arrow that led to another scribbled note, this time actually in her master’s handwriting. “Guardians know where the orb is hidden. GINNY KNOWS.”
Ellie nearly collapsed into her desk chair. What did all of this mean? Who was controlling her last night? When she looked back at the journals, why were those parts circled? Were the legends true—was Father Ikara’s power stolen during the Forest War and placed into a magical orb? Was the orb lost? Ginny knows, the journal said. Did whoever was walking around in her skin last night know what happened to ‘Ginny’ and the Rajah? She rubbed her fingers with her other hand as she remembered the electric shock when she tried to move her fingers on her own. Electricity. . . It must be another wizard. Another wizard that can manipulate the bond to the point of walking around in someone else’s body. No one on Orana but the dragons and the Guardians knew how to use that magic. Well, almost no one.
Now you’re getting it, my Elspethe. Finally. Welcome home.
Ten
Better a Door than a Portal
They followed a trail that led toward the forest for most of the day, finally entering the cooling shade of the trees, but Gin felt like they were going in circles when they came upon a small house made of logs and mud. Sath stopped, staring at the dwelling. “What’s wrong, Sath?” Gin said as she felt the waves of fear and uncertainty through her bond with the Qatu. She cast a simple invisibility spell on both of them, making sure to speak the words that would allow Sath to see her.
“It’s not right. Something smells wrong, Gin. I can’t explain it.”
“I can feel that, but what do you mean, wrong? With the house?”
“Yes. Well, more something inside the house.” He moved a bit closer, widening the gap between them and swishing his tail out of her reach. Gin moved quickly along behind him anyway. “Gin, just stay back for a second, please? Let me look around?”
“Not happening. We don’t get separated, remember?” Gin replied. Sath winced and grumbled, but moved on toward the house. As Sath lifted Gin up and peeked through a window, they could see the decrepit state of the house. It looked timeworn and dilapidated on the outside, and there was a group huddled inside. The wood elves stood around a table with a map unfurled across it. They were discussing something on the map but speaking a dialect of Elvish, and even though Sath put Gin back down and pressed his ear to the side of the house, he was having trouble following it.
“Gin, do you speak Elder Elvish?”
“The high elf dialect, you mean? I do, some, why?”
“Come ‘ere,” he whispered back, reaching back for her hand and pulling her up to him again so that she was close to the window. Gin closed her eyes and focused on the voices. “What are they saying?”
“Um… War, Father Ikara, I’d know that name anywhere. They seem to be talking about an alliance against. . . I’m just not sure,” Gin said. “Wait, that’s not Elder Elvish; that is my dialect but different, old fashioned.” She moved closer to the window. “They are arguing about the Mother Dragon returning to burn the Forest again!” Gin turned her head to look at Sath. “Is this some kind of joke?”
“I don’t know, I can’t understand them,” Sath replied. “What else are they saying?”
“From what I can understand, they think that the portal to—something, something, there it is again, Mother Dragon, Kaerinth—will be at the tunnel leading to—I don’t know that word—but the tunnel is right. Is that where we were heading, Sath?” Sath’s eyes were blank and glassy. “What’s wrong with you?” She grabbed the sides of his face and shook him as hard as she could.
“It was a myth,” Sath said, his words distant and quiet. “The whole thing was just a story, was
n’t it? But that would mean we are—Gin, something is wrong. We need to keep moving.”
“But where?” she asked. Her wide eyes scanned his. “Sath, what do you mean, the whole thing was a myth? What thing? Talk to me.”
Sath pulled her down from the window and held her at his eye level. “When I was a cub, my nanny told me about a place that bad little cubs went—the Dark Side of the World. It’s where the Mother Dragon went after her defeat in the Forest War when everyone thought she was dead. She was so powerful that she created portals between our world and hers through the Void so that she could easily travel back to take naughty cubs back with her for her dinner. It was a place where time stood still, so even if a cub could find a route back to Qatu’anari, everyone that cub loved would be long dead.” He shuddered, and then his eyes widened as something occurred to him. “But didn’t you tell me that’s how you can transport us? Your spells open portals into the Void, and we pass through them to get to where we want to go? So if that part of the story is grounded in fact, then -” He took a careful step back from the window and set her on the ground, his eyes wild and his fur standing on end. “Hang on, Gin, we’ve got to get to somewhere safe so we can figure this out. If this is really the Dark Side of the World, I don’t know if we can find our way back home, never mind the danger if the dragons are actually here.”
They ran back to the trail but took the other fork this time. The sun was setting, and Gin had given up holding Sath’s tail in favor of running along beside him. They slowed to a walking pace. “I’m not surprised you couldn’t understand them, Sath, the last time I heard that dialect was when my great-grandmother was still alive. I was a tiny thing then.”
“You’re still a tiny thing,” Sath chuckled, hoping to lighten the mood. Gin scowled at him. “More proof that we have somehow traveled back in time.” He looked around and scratched his head for a moment as he thought, and then frowned. “I’m just not sure where to go, Gin. If that is a tunnel in the tree line, it could take us home, or it could spit us out right in front of the Mother Dragon and her brood.”
Darkness: A Guardians of Orana Novel Page 9