Darkness: A Guardians of Orana Novel

by Nancy E. Dunne

  “I am only doing what my ancestors have done before me—following in the footsteps of YOUR Draoch of the Trees as closely as I can. I have served you. I have fought in your name. I have turned away enemies for you and in your name. I have disowned friends and members of my own family for speaking ill of you and disrespecting you. And yet, as I stand before you, knowing and trusting that you possess more than enough power to pluck us up off this plane and put us back down where we belong, you refuse to help me,” Gin said, her voice low and menacing. “Me! The Nature Walker! If you cannot help ME, then how am I to believe that you could ever help any of the people that come to me to intervene with you on their behalf?”

  Behind her, Sath winced. “Gin…easy now- ”

  “No, Sath!” Gin said as she looked back at him before returning her steely gaze to the goddess in front of her. The bear at the goddess’s feet began to growl protectively, but Sephine quieted it with a hand on its broad and furry head. “You will help us!” Gin demanded, her body positively vibrating with anger. “YOU MUST!”

  Sephine was silent for a long moment as she looked down at Gin, her eyes filled with concern and sadness rather than anger. “My child, my daughter, this is not an easy thing you ask of me. The magic that has brought you and your…fellow Guardian to this place through the Void is strong and dark, and it is only made stronger by the magic of the Mother Dragon that holds you here. You will give me time to think about this, and I will return to you with an answer.” She reached out gently toward Gin and cupped the wood elf’s chin in her hand. “Will you do this for me, my daughter? Will you give me time?”

  “NO! You have had ENOUGH TIME!” The anguish that had been building up inside Gin’s soul since they first found themselves in the Void welled up in her chest and began to spill out in the form of shuddering sobs. She covered her face with her hands and pulled away from Sephine’s touch, ashamed of the emotion and the fear that was behind it. Sephine nodded to Sath, who watched Gin in wide-eyed anxiety, and he broke through the circle of treants to run to her side. As the All-Mother watched, Sath tenderly touched Gin’s shoulder and waited—when she stopped crying, he took her hand as she took a deep breath, gaining control once more of her emotions.

  “You love her, Qatu?” Sephine asked solemnly.

  Sath did not take his eyes off Gin as he answered. “With all that I am, from here to the Void and back,” he whispered. The goddess studied him for a moment and then smiled sadly.

  “The world I love has changed, Qatu,” Sephine said, her voice soft and dense with despair. “Something happened to rip a hole in the fabric of Orana. Dark magic threw everything in the Void out of sync and is causing anomalies.” She moved toward them, the corners of her mouth turning up into a faint smile as Sath placed his body between the goddess and Gin. “You have no need to fear me, Qatu, nor do you, Ginolwenye. I will try my best to help you and send you back to where you belong, but you must be brave,” she said.

  “Of course we can,” Gin said. She pushed Sath away and knelt in front of her goddess. “How may we serve you?”

  “You and your mother before you are unique in your line, my girl. You bear the bloodline of both of the elves of the Great Forest. Your great grandmother was Neia, daughter of Draoch, yes?” Gin nodded, a puzzled look on her face. “Neia’s child, your grandmother, was the daughter of the High King of the Elves, Taegen. We allowed Neia to keep the child, but it was never known that Taegen was her father.”

  “Mama always said that her mother was teased for her height and slight build,” Gin said. She looked up at Sephine, wide-eyed. “Is that why Mama was never formally known as the Nature Walker?”

  “Yes. Your grandmother knew who her father was, and she felt that her own mother’s actions had tainted the Nature Walker line, so she would not accept the mantle when Neia died. The Nature Walker line ended there until your mother was born.” Again, she cupped Gin’s cheek with her hand. “You are so strong, my little one, and you are exactly what I envisioned when I created the Nature Walkers so long ago. You are a blend of the elves of your ancestry. It makes you particularly powerful and a target for those in our world that seek power to do harm. Tell me, do you know your history?”

  “Sath does better than I do,” Gin replied, flushing in embarrassment. All that Sephine was telling her of her own ancestry was almost too much to comprehend. Better to let Sath answer questions for a few moments. “Mother, I fear that I was more interested in other things than in my history lessons when I was a young one.” Sephine laughed, making Gin smile. The sound was musical and soothing. The goddess turned to Sath, considering him before she spoke.

  “You know your history well, Qatu?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow in disbelief.

  “Aye, every cub in the Royal Nursery has strict tutors,” Sath replied, his tone cool. He still did not trust the goddess, but he was trying to go along for Gin’s sake. “As the son of the Rajah, I had an especially…enthusiastic tutor.” He grimaced at the memory, growling low in his chest.

  “So, you know a great deal of the Forest War?” Sephine asked, beaming a sparkling smile that melted a bit of Sath’s resolve. “You know how it ended?”

  “Aye.”

  “Then you know that if the Mother Dragon is allowed to leave this side of the world and return home, all will be lost—if she can find a way to restore her mate, she will repopulate the entirety of Orana with dragons at the expense of all others?” The goddess stared at Sath, making him look away from her crystalline eyes in discomfort. “I know that you both have a history with her and her brood that will be hard to overcome, but do you stand ready to do that? Can you, when it was you, my Nature Walker, that led her mate to his death?”

  “Aye, but Gin will not apologize for that,” Sath rumbled, again meeting her gaze. “Nor will I apologize for taking Khujann instead of remaining at her side. I could not allow Taanyth to hurt my son or my…or Gin as he did.”

  “You are saying we must reason with the Mother Dragon? With all due respect, Mother, have you lost your mind?”

  Sephine smiled at Gin, though her expression urged caution. “Almost right, my Nature Walker,” she said. Her voice was warm, like a blanket wrapping around Gin’s shoulders. “You must find a way to stop the Mother Dragon. We must not allow her to release Taanyth from the Void.”

  “How can he be released, Mother? He is dead. There is no return to the world of the living once a soul enters the Void.”

  “Almost right again, my girl. It is possible—after all, the Void is my home, and yet I am here before you. Kaerinth intends to upend the rules of our world and channel the power of one of my contemporaries to bring back her mate. While I cannot intervene directly, I can guide my children along the path to defeat her. I will take you two to meet the one that can help you—the one that Kaerinth had no intention of allowing you to reach—Omerith, the La’al Drygyr, the creator of the Guardians. But he must not know that any help came from me, do you understand?”

  Sath scoffed. “Just how are we supposed to stroll up to the red dragon and ask for anything? ‘Here you are, sir, never mind who sent us, just help us defeat your mother, there you go.’ Are you mad?”

  Sephine scowled at Sath. “There is much riding on this, Rajah, including the life of your son, or have you forgotten him? What will happen to Prince Khujann—and indeed, the rest of the Qatu—if Kaerinth returns?” Sath dropped his gaze to the ground. “I know it will not be easy, but I have faith in you. I will help you as much as I can.”

  “Will you restore my magic?” Gin asked, hopefully. “I fear that the Mother Dragon has cursed this land as she did Bellesea Palace and the Western Tower so that my magic does not work as it should here.”

  “Yes, that I can do,” Sephine said, placing her willowy fingers on either side of Gin’s face. Warmth and light spread out from her palms and covered Gin from head to toe. Gin grimaced, and Sath rushed toward them, stopping only when Gin held out her hands.

  “Stop, Qatu,” Gin
said with Sephine’s voice. “I am not hurting her. I am restoring her. You will remain where you are.” Sath stopped in his tracks, not breaking eye contact with Gin. Her eyes were wracked with pain for a moment, and then clear and bright…and happy. She smiled at him. “I’m all right, Sath,” she said, her voice her own again.

  Sephine turned her head toward Sath, and as she spoke, her eyes blazed. “It pained us to see the betrayal of the Rajah Qa Kahzlir, your father, Sathlir. He spent a long time trying to go it alone, and we were so pleased when he finally noticed your mother. She was the balance he needed—just as you and Gin are each other’s balance. You must hear that and know it to be true. Though your people do not worship any of us, we still watch over you as we do all the races of Orana, and love you as though you are our own children.”

  Sath met the goddess’s gaze and beamed a toothy grin at her. “My father and I may not have been friends when he was alive, but he was a good and fair ruler for the most part. I appreciate your words, Sephine.”

  “You will wait here for me while I retrieve something that will help you gain an audience with Omerith,” the goddess said, not waiting for an answer as she evaporated into thin air in front of them. Sath felt a tiny hand touch his arm, and he looked down at her with concern.

  “Are you all right?” he whispered. “Truly, Gin, did she hurt you? I thought…”

  Gin looked up at him. “Of course,” she said. “Sath, I trust the All-Mother, she wouldn’t hurt me.” She smiled, and Sath felt that his heart would burst from his chest. “Always here to protect me, aren’t you?” she said, kissing him on the nose. Sath blushed to the roots of his fur. “I’m just sorry that we can’t…I mean, I can’t be…I mean…”

  “Don’t.” Sath shushed her with a finger carefully placed on her lips. “We will have time to work all of that out.”

  “Perhaps I can be of help with that as well,” Sephine said from behind them, making both of them jump. “But first, take this to the red dragon. He will know what to do with this.” She held out a small orb that hummed and buzzed but seemed so dark that it pulled the surrounding light into it. Recognizing it from reading Draoch’s journals, Gin found it unsettling to see just there, in front of her. “You must take great care not to release the magic contained within this orb and give it to Omerith so that he may trap Kaerinth’s magic inside. I know that you recognize it, and you realize what is at stake, my Nature Walker.” Gin nodded solemnly and took the orb from the goddess’s hands, packing it securely in her haversack. “Now, for you, Sathlir Clawsharp,” she said as she handed him a potion vial. “It is my suggestion that you take this potion before you approach the red dragon, as it will help you move about among those at his keep more easily.” As he took the vial from her, he heard her voice inside his head—in the bond with Gin.

  Take full advantage of this, Qatu, and make sure that you are kind to my Nature Walker, for I will know if you are not.

  He blinked and then nodded at her, still puzzled. “Now, be off, both of you, the time draws nigh. I will send you part of the way, but the signature of my magic should not be felt by Omerith. It should not be known that I have sent you, do you understand?”

  Gin knelt before the goddess. “As you will, Mother.”

  The Qatu loves you, my Nature Walker. Let him.

  I will, Mother. I love him more than my own life.

  Perhaps not that far, Ginolwenye of the Trees. Not that far.

  Sephine raised her arms, and before their eyes, she resumed her normal size. Their packs, the gear they had thought lost in the Void, appeared before them, and they scrambled to put it on. She opened her hands, palms out, and beautiful light streamed from her willowy fingers, surrounding Gin and Sath. It was as though one hundred druids were all casting transportation magic around them, and Gin instinctively moved closer to Sath. He wrapped an arm around her, grinning, as the ring of fire formed. “Be well, and love each other, my children,” Sephine said. “La’al Drygyr.”

  Twenty-Four

  Sephine’s Gift

  “You can open your eyes now,” Sath said to Gin, who had pressed her face into the fur on his arm. She did so slowly, scanning the area to see where they were. The landscape was similar to where they had been—before Sephine altered it, of course—but there were more trees and grass and low, rolling hills. Clearly, the All-Mother had transported them further inland, but the faint smell of salt air was still present. They had landed in the middle of a path, and a few feet up the road was a signpost. The words on it were written in Eldyr.

  “We’re…somewhere…” she whispered. “Thank you, Mother. Sath, can you read that signpost?”

  “Um, let me see—we are headed in the right direction, I think. This path says La’al Drygyr, straight ahead and Ma'anar to the south. Your goddess has put us behind enemy lines, Gin.” He scowled and then remembered the potion that she had given him. “Perhaps that is what this is for,” he said, removing it from his pack.

  “Which one of us is supposed to take it?” Gin asked. “I know that Mother gave it to you, but if you are afraid to take it…”

  Sath chuckled. “I’m only afraid it will make me look like that wizard again, or worse,” he said, happy that she smiled at him. He took the stopper out of it and sniffed, grimacing. “You’d think a potion made by a goddess would taste a bit better than one made by a gnome.” Gin giggled at him. “Well, here goes,” he said, and drank the vial’s contents in one swig. “See, that wasn’t so…” His face froze into a mask of agony just before he bent over double, gripping his midsection.

  “Sath!” Gin shouted as she ran to him, unsure of what to do to help him. He waved her away as he crumpled to the ground. “I don’t know how to help you -” Gin’s voice died away in response to what she saw before her.

  A curtain of blinding light surrounded the Rajah of Qatu’anari, driving Gin back a few steps. She shielded her eyes from the glare, closing them for a moment against the pain of the light. When she re-opened her eyes, she gasped at what she saw. Standing before her wearing stained black leather armor that seemed about three sizes too large was a wood elf male. His blonde hair was short and stood on end in places. He stared at his arms in wonder and then began turning around in a circle, trying to look at his own backside. He looked back at her, and when his teal gaze met hers, she felt her heart jump into her throat. She had seen this before, long ago in the Great Forest, when they were hunting for Khujann.

  “Sath?” she whispered.

  “Aye,” he said, his rumbling voice sounding strange coming out of the wood elf’s mouth. “Gin, I’m…I’m…” Without waiting another moment, Gin closed the distance between them and threw her arms around his neck. Her lips met his, and she kissed him deeply and a bit roughly. He pushed her back for a moment, stroking the side of her face with his tiny, oaken-tinged hands. He stared at his fingers for a moment, leaving them resting lightly against her cheeks. “No claws—I don’t have to be careful -” His voice was barely audible but filled with awe. “I can’t scratch you now.” He pulled her back to him, this time matching the roughness and intensity in her kiss. His fingers tangled in her hair, pulling free the ponytail that she always wore at the nape of her neck.

  “You’re…we -” Gin whispered breathlessly as he showered her neck with kisses. Goosebumps swarmed over her skin as he nibbled at her ear.

  “Yes, we can,” he whispered, sending a delicious shudder down her spine. “Your goddess has given us an amazing gift.” Overcome, Sath held her, crushing her against his chest and reveling in the way that their bodies fit together. She seemed enormous to him now—perfect. Her hands, he discovered, were the same size as his as he stretched out her arm and took her hand in his.

  “Sath?” she whispered.

  “Yes?”

  “I don’t…I mean…I’ve never…” Gin bit her lip.

  Sath pulled away from her suddenly. “You’ve never been with a male?” he said, his teal eyes wide.

  “No.” Gin’s fa
ce flushed as she looked down at her feet. Sath gently tilted her face back up until her eyes met his.

  “You never…I just assumed that you and Taeben…”

  “No.” Gin cut him off before he could finish the sentence. “At least not that I remember. He took a lot of liberties with me, Sath, but as far as I know, not that one.” She turned her back to him, rubbing the back of her neck before he saw her eyes fill with tears of shame. “You assumed that, and yet you want me anyway?”

  “Gin, of course I do,” Sath said, exhaling with relief. “You want me, though you know that I have been with Anni.”

  “Aye, and I suppose that is why Mother made the potion for you and not me,” she said quietly. “She knew that I would worry about how I compared to her if she had made me Qatu.” Sath gazed at her, still amazed that he didn’t have to lift her to look her in the eye.

  “Of course she didn’t,” Sath said. “I think she made me a wood elf to make sure I did not hurt you when—I mean if we—because she knew that was the one race on Orana that you don’t fear.” He stroked her cheek as he stared in wonder. “There are no barriers between us now, Gin.”

  She glanced around them. “I don’t think we should go to La’al Drygyr just yet, Sath,” she said. “If there is another inn on this road—a real one this time, not a trap—and it is safe for us to stay there, then -”

  Sath didn’t wait for her to finish her sentence. He looked ahead of them on the path and thought that he spotted a building; just before he dashed off in that direction, he grabbed her hand. Gin followed him, anxiety creeping up into her chest as she ran. The building soon came into view, gleaming against the wilderness. The polished wood shined in the dappled sunlight that filtered through the tree canopy. She let go of his hand looked with amazement at the sign hanging above the door—the words above the entrance were written in Eldyr, but there was a leaf etched into the door. It was a safe house for those from the Great Forest, left from the Forest War. Had they come all the way here to hide? “Gin?”