by K.L. Bauman
Chapter 3
Discussion Over a Plate of Worms
Echo attempted to keep her voice nonchalant as she rode alongside Dorian and asked, “Doons can’t survive in daylight, can they? I mean, I thought shadow dwellers could only come out at night--in the dark.”
“Doons cannot survive in day light that is true. However, even in the day, shadows reside in many places. A doon can only make itself as large as a man, but it can become as small as an ant, hiding in the shadow of a blade of grass until a larger shadow passes by. For instance, if a man or animal were to pass over, it would attach itself to that shadow, traveling with that being. Then, it would jump from shadow to shadow until it reached its destination.”
Echo resisted a shiver, thinking of a tick-like creature riding in her shadow. Then she glanced behind them toward the river. “What about water wraiths?”
Dorian chuckled, “You have been daydreaming during lessons again, Echo.” She lowered her gaze, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks. Dorian continued patiently, “Water wraiths can exist in light as well as shadow. They are not, in fact, a wraith as wraiths are known--a tortured spirit caught between life and death. They were dubbed wraiths because of their ghostly forms. They are only considered shadow dwellers because as you should know, they have been manipulated in the past by dark magic. They usually take on the form of an attractive man or woman to lure people to the water. However, they cannot stray from the water for long, or they will die. Their greatest enemy is heat.”
Echo wasn’t comforted by Dorian’s words. They were heading straight for a village surrounded by rivers. She shook her head, attempting to erase thoughts of shadowy creatures lurking behind every plant, rock, and blade of grass.
As they rode closer to Ulway, the warmth of the sun and conversation helped to ease Echo’s paranoia. Thoughts of seeing her grandfather--and the human defender--also raised her spirits. Although Ulway was only five miles from Thildin, between caring for the elves’ horses and training, Echo and her family didn’t get the chance to visit the village often. In fact, it had been an entire month since she’d last set foot there.
Typical of river villages in Shae Vale, most of the buildings were made from large, rounded boulders taken from the riverbed. A vibrant array of flowers skirted lush lawns; apple trees, bursting with pink and white blossoms, shaded many of the cobbled streets and pathways.
The smells of town life reached the approaching riders. Some cooking fires burned bright beneath bubbling pots of spicy stews. Sweet perfumes and pungent dyes wafted from merchants’ huts. The aroma of freshly baked bread from the bakery danced through the air, mingling with the other scents. Echo breathed deeply and smiled. All these smells reminded her of her grandfather.
The group dismounted, allowing their horses to wander to the outskirts of the village--they would come when Dorian called for them later. The group strolled toward the inn, The Sleeping Willow, which marked the center of Ulway. A circular, two-storied building with rounded stone walls painted with live, multi-colored vines, the inn was a hub for travelers of business and pleasure. With both rivers nearby, the village and the inn were connected to an endless supply of water and other resources--like the best fishing within a one-hundred mile radius. And, being an efficient, people-caring person, Echo’s grandfather’s success had come easily.
While approaching The Sleeping Willow, Echo looked at the faces of villagers mulling around shops and strolling along the streets, hoping to catch a glimpse of a familiar face or two. What she saw instead caused discomfort to settle over her. Hardened faces with veiled expressions observed the travelers warily. Her attempt at smiling faltered when only fierce frowns returned her gesture. She knew the villagers weren’t very receptive to elves, but they weren’t usually so guarded. Even small children, who usually ran through the streets full of brightness and fun, were mostly silent and reserved, betraying their fear. The shadow dwellers’ attacks had affected the people worse than she’d thought. She wondered if the other villages were faring the same.
Echo was more than relieved to exit the streets and enter the inn. A bright, cheery lobby greeted the travelers. Small fountains tinkled happily beside lush bushes that grew straight out of the floor beneath an open sun roof.
They passed the lobby and headed for the dining area, which was usually filled with chattering customers. Echo worried as they approached a nearly empty dining hall. Only two tables were occupied, and the hall was uncharacteristically quiet. Dorian, for one fraction of a second, also seemed concerned before hiding his emotions behind a sunny smile.
“What’s going on?” Mari asked, scowling.
“I’d like to know, too,” Brecker said. He also wore a concerned expression, increasing Echo’s discomfort.
A warm, welcoming voice drew their attention to a narrow doorway that Echo knew led to the kitchen. “What a pleasant surprise! To what do I owe such honored guests arriving at my humble establishment?” A tall man with silver hair, shining light-blue eyes, and a soft smile approached them, his arms stretched out and ready for hugs.
“Grandpa!” Mari was first to run to him as his infectious laughter filled the room. Echo followed suit. Brecker attempted just to shake hands, but laughed as he was forced into an especially vigorous hug.
Their grandpa then turned his attention to Dorian, who’d stood patiently by during the family reunion. Extending his hand until it rested on the elderly man’s shoulder, Dorian gave his greeting. “Archer, it is good to see you, friend. My hope is that we will all be welcome to dine here.”
Archer returned the gesture. “You know I would never turn you away, Dorian.” They parted before he continued, “Your people have all been kind to my family over the years. I hope to return the favor.” He motioned them to a large, round table covered with a soft, blue cloth.
Archer invited his guests to sit, and then disappeared into the kitchen briefly before returning with a tray full of pre-dinner munchies. Fresh grapes, apples, and a mixture of nuts were carefully divided into smoothly polished stone bowls. Their host distributed matching oblong stone plates to everyone before sitting down. Smiling he said, “Well, help yourselves. Eat before it spoils. The main course will be out shortly.”
As everyone nibbled, they discussed what was happening in the village. Brecker maintained a grim expression throughout the conversation. Echo also noticed that her grandfather looked more tired than usual. The lines in his face were deeper and his eyes seemed sad.
“Haven’t had much business of late,” he said, then popped a grape into his mouth. He spoke around the fruit in his mouth. “It’s all this shadow dweller nonsense. People get careless and lose livestock or have a bit of a bad run at the market and blame it all on shadow dwellers and black magic.”
“So, you do not believe the shadow dwellers have been a problem here?” Dorian questioned.
Archer shrugged and said, “Maybe to a certain extent. There have been some bad situations. Strange things have happened that can’t be explained. Things that even I can’t deny are signature of shadow dwellers.”
“Like what?” Brecker asked.
“People disappearing by the rivers, especially at night. And good people, too, not just drunken fools that might’ve fallen into the water. People I’ve known my whole life suddenly acting strangely, darkly, doing things against their nature. Mavel and Moodey Muckerson, as you know, lost their child six months ago. They thought it was a hag--kid died of fright in his own bed.” Echo knew a hag could produce life-like nightmares that caused high anxiety and, if the person was not awakened in time, death. “But now…” Archer began before he pressed his lips together, forming a thin line.
“What?” Mari asked, her eyes as big as the bowls on the table. Echo felt her own eyes widen, and her heart beat slightly faster.
Archer gave Dorian a sidelong glance and cleared his throat. “The Muckerson’s are convinced that the elves are responsible for their so
n’s death.”
An awkward silence stretched across the room as everyone cast their eyes on Dorian. Considering what he’d just heard, Echo thought he seemed a little too calm. His face remained serene, his eyes sparkling. In fact, he almost seemed close to laughing.
Archer looked at him sadly, the lines around his eyes and mouth deepening. Softly, he asked, “Did you understand what I just said, Dorian?”
Dorian looked steadily into Archer’s eyes. “Yes, dear friend. You need not be concerned for my sake or for the sake of my people. We have done no evil and, therefore, have nothing to fear. The truth will come to light in the long run.”
Echo sat in amazement. The truth will come to light? How could he be so positive? If she’d been accused of doing something she hadn’t done, she’d be furious! Archer shook his head slowly. “I’ll never really understand your race. But, if that is how you see things, then I’ll do my best not to worry.” He smiled as a server approached with a tray filled with steaming, golden, roasted pork. Echo’s mouth watered. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was.
Dorian sat calmly, his hands folded in front of him, his meat untouched. An amused smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he gazed at Archer. After a few minutes Archer suddenly butted his forehead with the heal of his palm. “Forgive me, Dorian! I’ve gone and forgotten how little meat you eat.” He quickly removed the pork from the elf’s plate and summoned a server to bring him something more suitable. Another plate of fresh fruit and vegetables was hastily set in place of the meat. Beside the garden treats wriggled a small plateful of live worms.
“You are more than kind,” Dorian bowed slightly, then picked one worm from his plate, placed it in his mouth, and chewed it carefully. Most elves didn’t eat meat but worms and insects were in an entirely different category. Echo turned her eyes away, afraid she’d lose her appetite if she watched Dorian. Although she’d seen it her whole life, she’d never gotten used to the consumption of insects.
As everyone devoured their food, they continued their conversation. “Do you believe, Dorian, that the sorceress, Degus, is responsible for the shadow dwellers becoming more active of late?” Archer asked.
“It is a possibility. She has many beings under her control. However, shadow dwellers were in existence long before her time. I cannot say for certain what their motivation might be.”
“Won’t your seers tell us what’s going on so we can at least prepare ourselves better?” Brecker asked. Echo’s stomach tightened around the food she’d just eaten. Brecker had been in a sour temper all day, and she wasn’t eager to see him begin another argument.
Dorian spoke, “Some of our people catch glimpses of present and future events. But they cannot fully interpret what those images might mean. Any image can be taken out of context. We could give the wrong information, making a situation worse rather than better.”
“Still, anything would help wouldn’t it? We have to do something to protect the villages and Thildin Valley from these dark forces. We have to act now!” Brecker shouted, slamming his fist against the table. The other occupants of the dining hall fell silent, staring. Echo and Mari looked at each other warily, not sure what to do or say.
Archer placed a strong hand over Brecker’s. “Take it easy, son. We all want to help, and we will. We’ll find a way if we work together and think this through.”
Brecker looked at his grandfather angrily for a moment. Echo squeezed her fork until the edges of the handle dug into her palm, scared Brecker would say something to hurt their grandfather. Instead, his shoulders slackened and he lowered his gaze. “Sorry, Grandpa,” he mumbled. “I don’t know what came over me.”
Archer patted his grandson’s hand and smiled. “We’ve all been a little tense lately. Things will get brighter, though. I’m certain of it.” He winked, and then finished his pork.
Dorian gazed through a window at the position of the sun. Nodding at Archer, he slowly rose, and then bowed, thanking their host for a great meal and great company. He touched his lips with two fingers, then touched the table, a symbol of blessing to Archer and his establishment.
“We should make our way to the streets, now. I believe we may see a show soon,” Dorian said. He quickly explained what was happening and Archer, seeming suddenly younger, agreed to join them.
The group wandered the village for twenty minutes with no signs of anything unusual. Echo felt disheartened, certain that Dorian had been mistaken and Ayden Green was not going to be in Ulway today.
A shout drew their attention to an intersection near the bakery and gift cottages. Echo’s stomach tickled with excitement as Dorian’s eyes sparked and he said, “This will be it. Shall we?” He gestured with his hand toward the sound.
As they approached the intersection, a man with the physique of a toothpick came into view. The dead sorcerer! His wild eyes, sunken face, and unkempt hair gave him a dangerous, desperate look as he stood defensively in the intersection. He held a crude sword, its blade nicked in several places along its edge. He bared sharp, yellow teeth and his expression indicated madness beyond reach. That madness, Echo guessed, could give the man unnatural strength. Even so, she felt pity for him as his ragged, soiled clothing gave away that he’d been living in the streets for some time.
Her attention was quickly drawn to a second figure that emerged from behind the buildings. A thrill washed over her--this had to be the human defender, Ayden Green!