by Kay L. Ling
Her thoughts snapped back to the present when Lant squeezed her hand. They had reached the end of the ceremony. Lana and Jules were exchanging their vows. When the last words were spoken, the musicians played Wishes for Happiness, and the audience rose. Lana and Jules came up the aisle, arm in arm, and everyone called out personal wishes for the couple’s health and happiness.
Jules looked as if he couldn’t believe his good luck, and Lana was wiping joyful tears from her eyes. Tyla fixed this moment in her memory, determined to capture it in her leebstone book.
When the couple reached Tyla’s row, Jules hugged Tyla and shook Lant’s hand. “Thank you for everything.”
“Yes, we can’t thank you enough,” said Lana. “It was a beautiful ceremony.”
“Elias, I know you looked forward to this moment almost as much as I did,” Jules said. “I’m glad you were here to see it.”
“Welcome to the family,” Elias said huskily. “You’ve always been like a son to me, and now it’s official.” He stepped into the aisle and shook Jules’s hand, then he and Lana looked at each other, both fighting back tears, and Elias drew her into his arms. When they stepped apart, Lana wiped her eyes and said, “You’re right, but don’t tell him.” She winked at Elias and shot Jules a playful grin.
“Don’t tell him what?” Jules demanded. “No fair using telepathy to talk about me!”
“Allow us a few secrets,” Elias said. “Don’t worry. It was complimentary.”
“Time we be getting’ food on the table,” said a familiar voice. Tina Ann, followed by several of the Anns, came up the aisle. Tyla held her breath. It would be just like Tina Ann to give Lana and Jules a congratulatory shaking.
“I always says you an’ him belong tergether. ‘Bout time ya finally listen ter me,” Tina Ann said, grinning up at Lana.
“What about you and Ben? When are you going to exchange vows?” Lana asked.
“Dunno. With the war comin’ an’ all, mebbe we should.”
Tina Ann’s comments brought Pentar to mind. Hopefully, he had found a way to counteract the spell, but in any case, nothing had happened here. Thank goodness they had gotten through the ceremony uneventfully.
“Wait till ya see yer cake,” Maggie Ann said, elbowing Tina Ann out of the way. “It look good, but we didn’t try none of it.”
“Maggie Ann decorated it beautifully,” Tyla said. “I know you’ll be pleased.”
“Well, we best be off ter get the food,” Tina Ann said, and the Anns headed out of the throne room, shouting to Ben and Oliver to fetch the kegs of beer and fialazza.
“Let me escort you to the head table,” Tyla told Lana and Jules. “Elias and Franklin will sit with you.”
The servers arrived a few minutes later. Earlier in the week, Tyla had been worried about having enough food for so many guests, so Raenihel had asked the Anen clan to contribute greens, vegetables, breads, and cheeses. The breghlin clan near Franklin had contributed raw meat. Ben said it was holediggers. The real hit among the breghlin was sure to be the brontskeller jerky. Since all of the moat monsters were dead and there would never be any more, everyone would brag about sampling moat monster meat.
Elantoth was low on wine, so Tyla didn’t serve any, but no one seemed to mind. The gnomes were content with fialazza, and breghlin preferred beer.
After the main course, the musicians began to play, and Lana and Jules performed the human ritual of cutting the cake together. The gnome guests had whispered about the beautiful cake, and Tyla was sure they’d enjoy it. Breghlin disliked sweets, but Tyla hoped they would be eat a little, just to be polite.
Tina Ann and Maggie Ann put sample-size pieces of cake on a silver tray and carried it from table to table. Tyla served the cake while Lana and Jules thanked the guests for coming and exchanged pleasantries with them.
After serving all the gnomes, the group went to the breghlin tables. The breghlin had nothing special to wear for the occasion, but their clothing was clean, and most had combed their hair and beards. They wore hand-wiping cloths tucked into their belts since they weren’t about to give up eating with their hands, even for a wedding. They had also brought their own beer tankards, which held far more than a standard mug.
Tyla hadn’t given it much thought, but most of the breghlin had heard about Lana and Jules but hadn’t met them till today. After S’s defeat, Lana had chosen breghlin for the Ministry of Breghlin affairs—ones she had met during S’s reign. S had treated all breghlin like vermin, but Lana, although afraid of them, had pitied them and shown them kindness. As a result, she had earned their devotion.
The breghlin didn’t look up when Tina Ann approached the first table with the cake tray. Most looked like they had overindulged in beer. Wally, Grace, Ferdinand, Xenon, and Danny were at that table, but Tyla didn’t know the rest.
“Ern’t no one like Lana,” Wally was telling the others in slurred tones. “Always treat us nice. S used ter call me W, an’ Lana didn’t like that. Now I be learnin’ ter read, I knows why. W eren’t no name. It be a letter. She gived us names,” he said, banging his tankard for emphasis. “Real names. I be Wally now.”
“Here she come,” Grace said, elbowing Wally in the ribs. “Pull yerself tergether.”
Wally sat up straighter and did his best to focus his bleary gaze on Lana and Jules. “Hullo, Lana. Hullo Jules. Better make her happy, Jules, or yer be answerin’ ter us.”
“I’ll do my best,” Jules said, looking fondly at Lana.
“Cake, anyone?” Lana asked.
“They all be havin’ some,” Tina Ann announced, giving the group a warning look. Everyone nodded.
Tyla distributed the cake. After staring at it with long faces, Danny and Xenon picked theirs up and dunked it in their beer.
“Not bad,” Danny said after taking a bite.
Xenon grinned. “Goes ter show, everythin’ be better with beer.”
Tina Ann shook her head and went to the next table.
After serving the cake, the group started back to the head table. Jules asked Tyla, “Do gnomes ever dance at weddings?”
“Yes. That would be a wonderful way to end the celebration.”
“Would you like to dance?” Jules asked Lana.
“Yes,” Lana said, smiling up at him. “I’d like that very much.”
Chapter 51
Once Lana and Jules had retired to the guest room for the night, Tyla went down to the Pedestal Room to contact Pentar. She wanted to know what had happened, but oh how she dreaded unpleasant news after such a wonderful day. Couldn’t there ever be a day—just one day—when she could forget about The Emanicus? Pentar and his officers might have stopped the storm, but there was no escaping the fact that Emanicus attacks were becoming more creative.
Ertz made it here, just as you predicted, Pentar told her. We couldn’t stop the storm, but we moved it to an unpopulated region. We think they’ll terminate the spell once they learn what we did.
They’ll be annoyed you outsmarted them. I wonder what they’ll do next?
There’s no telling. We have to be ready for anything. Ertz has been studying The Great Upheaval and discussing strategies with me. He says we need to lure The Emanicus into battle and put an end to them and their Outcast followers before they get a firm hold on all the mines and government-controlled industries. They’re already writing restrictive laws to control private businesses. Before long, we’ll be little more than slaves, and life will be hard for woodspirits, too.
When Pentar ended the communication, Tyla went to the library. Olissa and Arenia had gone there to tell Marrid about the wedding since Marrid hadn’t attended, thinking guests might be alarmed to see a woodspirit, particularly one of The Eight.
When Tyla came in, the trio looked at her expectantly.
“The storm is gone,” she told them, sitting down in an animal-bone chair next to Arenia. “They couldn’t stop it, but they redirected it. Now it’s raining somewhere else.”
“That’s not a
n ideal solution,” Olissa said.
“No, but at least they got rid of it,” Marrid said. “An unnatural storm over the fortress can’t be good for public confidence.”
Tyla hadn’t thought about it from that perspective, but Marrid made a good point. “Ertz wants fortress troops to fight Emanicus gnomes, but we don’t even know where they are.”
“At the moment, you can’t fight them outright, but you can fight Outcast gem masters, which is the next best thing,” Marrid said.
“We can’t do that, either,” Arenia said. “They’re behind wards.”
“There must be a way to lure them out.” Marrid thought a moment. “Suppose fortress troops tried to reclaim one of the mines. The Emanicus couldn’t handle that long distance very well. They’d need to know exactly what’s going on. I bet they’d send Outcast troops.”
“I like that strategy,” Tyla said. “I’ll suggest it to Pentar.”
“In the case of a major battle, Emanicus gnomes would support their forces in person, wouldn’t they?” Olissa asked.
“Yes, they’d have to,” Marrid agreed. “They’ve been using long-distance attacks so far, hoping to intimidate you into total submission. If you go to war, Outcast forces will fight you with dark powers, and Emanicus Gnomes will be there to support them with the Focal Gem.”
“That’s what I thought,” Olissa said. “I’ve been studying The Great Upheaval, and I’ve learned quite a bit, but this will be a very different war. For one, we won’t be fighting off-world mercenaries.”
“The Mydorians. I read about them.” Tyla said. “When I was with the Amulet Team, we passed a couple famous battlefields—Traitor’s Ridge and Last Hope.”
“Entire books have been written about Last Hope and the way your ancestors destroyed the Mydorian portal,” Marrid said. “They didn’t expect the Amulet to be sealed shut in the process, but I imagine they would have made the same decision, even if they’d known. Not only did that stop the flow of mercenaries, they got rid of Sheamathan and her most loyal followers by trapping them in the Amulet.”
“Some say if our side had just kept fighting, they might have won without resorting to that,” Olissa said. “Outcast gem masters were sick and going insane from using Dark gems. They wouldn’t have survived much longer. And the Mydorians were a huge threat, but they didn’t have gem powers.”
“The Mydorians were a warrior race,” Marrid said. “Don’t underestimate such a powerful mercenary force.” She added hesitantly, “And don’t be angry with me for saying this, but I think Sheamathan could have defeated your gem masters all by herself, eventually.”
“That’s like saying we could defeat The Emanicus and still lose the war if S regains her powers. You can’t mean that,” Arenia said.
Marrid didn’t answer, but her silence was answer enough.
“You’ve proven your powers are superior to ours, so I understand your negativity, but give us a little credit,” Olissa said stiffly. “We have some excellent gem masters.”
“So did your ancestors.”
“Everyone says S is the most powerful woodspirit gem master of all time, but who really knows?” Tyla said, looking at Marrid. “I’ve only seen a little of what you can do, and I’m impressed. How do you know you’re not her equal?”
“I’ve read detailed battle accounts. In many cases, I could tell which gems she was using, but she had to be using complex spells along with them to get those results. It’s hard to think of gem-power strategies much less devise a spell under pressure, and she excelled at that,” Marrid said with grudging admiration.
“Few of our gem masters are good at spells, and they’re intimidated by dark powers. When we go to war, we could use your help, but it wouldn’t be fair to ask,” Tyla said. “The Emanicus would target you, and as you’ve pointed out, no amount of personal wards can withstand the Focal Gem.”
“I’d have to be on the battlefield, and I doubt your troops would be comfortable with that.”
“I don’t know—” Tyla began, but Olissa cut her off.
“She’s right. Most distrust The Eight, her in particular. The newssheet stories about her a few months ago didn’t help.”
“I haven’t bought Dark gems in decades, but The Emanicus was amassing Dark gems, and the newssheets blamed me. I can only imagine the slanderous stories Kitana would write if she knew I was helping you.”
“No one believes half of what they read in Woodspirit News and Views,” Arenia said. “Gnome newssheets are more reliable, but The Emanicus has driven many of them out of business for printing the truth.”
Tyla gestured toward the rolled-up scroll on the table. “What’s this?”
Olissa’s eyes lit. “Something I found in S’s suite. Marrid says it’s called a zannamap, but she wouldn’t tell us anything about it until you got here.”
“It’s very rare,” Marrid said. “It takes a gem master adept at spells to make one, and as you pointed out earlier, most gnomes struggle with spells.”
Olissa unrolled the map and weighted the corners. It had darkened from age but was otherwise in good condition and showed all of Ahmonell: fortress cities, towns, lakes, rivers, mountain ranges, and mines. According to the date on the bottom, it predated The Great Upheaval.
“What do those little spirals mean?” Tyla asked. “I’ve never seen that symbol on a map.”
“They’re zanna marks.” Marrid gave Tyla an enigmatic smile. “Touch one.”
Tyla did, and the paper began to fade. Soon, only the border remained. The scene before her was so real it felt as if she were there. The sky bore a rosy hue as the sun disappeared behind forested land in the distance. In the foreground, field grasses rippled in the wind. A river, silvery in the gathering darkness, flowed by.
“How is this possible?” Tyla murmured, transfixed by the scene.
Olissa came and stood behind Tyla’s chair.
“What you see is exactly what the mapmaker saw at this location,” Marrid explained.
“Every site that’s marked with a spiral does this—shows a scene?” Arenia asked.
“Yes, it must have taken years to make this map,” Marrid said.
Tyla looked up. “It’s a little like a leebstone book.”
“Yes, but far more complex, showing a moving scene instead of a single image.”
“How do I make the scene go away?” Tyla asked.
“Touch the bottom of the map.”
When Tyla did, the scene faded, and the map reappeared.
“May I try it?” Olissa asked.
“Certainly,” Marrid said.
Tyla got up and Olissa sat.
“There’s a zanna mark in the center of Aberell City.” Olissa touched the mark. The paper faded and Aberell City appeared.
“It’s getting dark in this scene, too,” Tyla said. “You’d think the mapmaker would record these scenes in the afternoon, when there’s more light.”
“That is odd,” Marrid agreed.
“Wait,” said Olissa. “Do you see something odd about this scene?”
Tyla wasn’t sure what she meant.
“Look closely. This isn’t Aberell City hundreds of years ago. This is Aberell City now!” Olissa’s voice rose in excitement. “Look, there’s the confinement building. It’s only twenty years old!”
“You’re right,” Tyla said, dumbfounded.
“How in Ahmonell,” Marrid breathed. “This is incredible. I can hardly believe she did this.”
“Who?” asked Olissa.
“Sheamathan, of course. There’s no other explanation. She created a spell to make the zanna marks show the current scene instead of the one the mapmaker saw. I told you her spell work is beyond compare.”
“It’s disturbing to think she’s that advanced,” Olissa said. “I’m beginning to see why you think she could have beaten our gem masters singlehandedly. I hope she hasn’t regained her powers.”
Tyla’s thoughts raced ahead. “This map could come in handy. We can see wha
t’s happening at various locations.”
Olissa nodded. “Only the places with zanna marks, but still . . .”
“This map is far more important than I first thought,” Marrid said. “What other treasures have you found in S’s suite?”
“She has a lot of historical books and scrolls, but we haven’t had time to examine them all. We’ve concentrated on the main library,” Tyla said.
“I’m lucky I stumbled across this,” Olissa said. “I felt drawn to it.”
“Some gem masters are able to sense spell work,” Marrid said. “What about her leebstone books? Did you find anything interesting in those?”
“It never occurred to me she’d have one,” Tyla said.
“I’m sure she did. Maybe several,” Marrid said. “If Olissa sensed the zannamap, maybe she can find them.”
Tyla caught Olissa’s eye, and Olissa gave her a hopeful grin. “Come on,” Tyla said. “Let’s go have a look.”
Chapter 52
Olissa found three leebstone books on an upper shelf surrounded by books of runes. No one had noticed them since there were no titles on the spines. They sat down to look at them, not sure what they would find. S had ruled here for more than two hundred years, and Tyla wondered what S would consider worth recording.
After a few minutes, Olissa said, “I’m sorry I found these. “Everything she recorded involves torture, death, and destruction.”
“That’s not surprising. She enjoyed others’ misery,” Tyla said, closing the book she’d been looking at. There had been an image of Jules in wolfhound form, lying before S’s throne, and one of a younger Elias with fewer witnesses. Elias had probably already lost his ability to reenter the Fair Lands, and S had recorded that image to gloat over his downfall.
