The Black Elfstone

by Terry Brooks

  But her father shook his head. “You must accept my decision and abide by my rules so long as you live under this roof.”

  “That is so unfair!” she had snapped back in fury.

  “You are entitled to your opinion. But the decision is mine and it is final.”

  “Fine! Mama might see things differently. I’ll go to her!”

  But arguing the matter with her mother was futile. She deferred to her husband and said Tarsha must do the same. So after several days of brooding, Tarsha decided simply to slip away without their knowledge and make the journey anyway.

  That effort failed as well. She got as far as the end of the lane leading away from the house when her father appeared in the doorway to call her back. Desperate to go anyway, she tried to convince him once more of her need to see her brother, but nothing would sway him. And when she tried to run, he caught up to her and dragged her back into the house and locked her away for two days.

  “I hate you!” she screamed through the door, sobbing. But he made no response.

  In the end, the best she could manage was to extract a promise that sometime soon he would take her to see Tavo himself.

  But that “sometime” never came. Almost two more years passed with no visit to or word from her brother. Life distracted her, as life tends to do, and before she knew it she was nearing her seventeenth birthday, and the absence of her brother was becoming comfortable in a way she increasingly found disturbing. Soon, she feared, she would forget him entirely, content to consign him to the past and leave him there—and she could not bear the thought of that happening.

  So she decided to try again.

  Only this time, she was older and better prepared. The confidence she had lacked at fifteen had blossomed. She was bigger and more capable by now; she was tough and ready. She had learned from old Stoll down in Backing Fell how better to protect herself, the hunter giving her lessons in self-defense in exchange for repairing and painting his cottage porch railings and the fence surrounding his yard. More important, she was continuing to develop her use of magic. She still didn’t know its origins, but her ability to create images and to virtually disappear into her surroundings was vastly improved.

  So she made up her mind. She would go to Tavo. And this time, she vowed, her father would not stop her.

  She left early one morning, slipping silently from the house before sunrise and setting out along the road to her uncle’s farm, leaving a note saying she would be back in a day. She crossed open fields and passed through forests, cutting cross-country to save time and to avoid the pursuit that would come once her father discovered what she had done. But by the time she arrived at her destination, she had not seen him even once during her journey and did not find him waiting for her.

  Still, it was not the end of her troubles.

  Her uncle was a stranger to her. She had seen him no more than a handful of times when she was younger, and not at all since Tavo had gone to live with him. He was a large, shaggy-haired man with a gruff voice and a dark look, his big hands always flexing at his sides, his words slow and rough-edged. He was restless and short of patience, and he made it clear how he felt about her arrival immediately.

  “You turn around and go on home, girl,” he told her.

  He did not say this in a way that suggested there was any choice in the matter, but Tarsha stood her ground. “I want to see my brother.”

  Her uncle worked his jaws as if chewing on something. “Can’t allow it. He’s in the punishment shed. He’s to stay there until he learns his lesson. He’s not to see anyone until then.”

  “What’s the punishment shed? What’s he in there for?”

  “Disobedience. He’s bad clear through.” He pointed to a weathered shed standing off to one side of the barn, close to where the animal pens were situated. “That’s where he spends most of his time these days. His choice, for not doing what he’s supposed to. He won’t change.”

  Tarsha hesitated. “I want to see him anyway.”

  Her uncle shook his shaggy head, his face stern and set. “He ain’t what you remember. He ain’t been since he came here. He was trouble from the moment he arrived, and not much has changed. I keep him because my brother wants it, but I don’t much like it. He’s a millstone around my neck, and if it wasn’t for your parents’ insisting…”

  “Then let me take him home,” she interrupted. “I can manage him.”

  Another shake of the head. “Tried to send him home already. Your parents wouldn’t take him back. Said he had to stay here until he changed. They won’t let you bring him back neither, I expect.”

  She stared at him in shock. Mama and Papa wouldn’t let Tavo come home? They were forcing him to stay here with her uncle? Locked in a shed like an animal? He had to be lying! “They wouldn’t agree to that!” she snapped. “They probably don’t even know about it!”

  “Well, they do know, so change your thinking.” He paused. “Do you know what he was like when he first got here?”

  She shook her head. She didn’t know anything. “He didn’t write me. Mama and Papa wouldn’t let me come visit.”

  “No, I don’t guess they would.” He looked over to the punishment shed as if considering it. “First week he was here, he was so angry he wouldn’t speak a word. Second week, he started killing things. Small animals, at first. Wild or tame, didn’t matter. Then he killed my dog. Did it for no reason I could understand. I loved that old dog. He was my best friend after Mayerling died and I chose not to wed again. Boy crossed a line on that one, and I had to teach him a lesson. I put him in the punishment shed for the first time. But it wasn’t the last.”

  “This has been going on for four years?” Tarsha was practically shouting at him. “You’ve been locking him up for four years?”

  “Had to. He just got worse and worse. Started coming after me. Once he got hold of a knife and tried to use it on me. And it’s getting worse. He’s bigger now, stronger. I can’t take chances with him. But my brother pays me to keep him, so I do. His wife, your mama, begs me, too. She’s terrified of him. They came once, early on. Couple of months into his stay. Did they tell you that?”

  They hadn’t. They’d told her nothing of a visit.

  “That was when they said I had to keep him. He was too dangerous to go home, too wild and unpredictable. Doesn’t think right. Doesn’t know what he’s doing. I agreed. Thought I could reach him in time. Thought I could teach him to work the land, learn something useful. I tried to teach him. I tried to show him how to have fun.”

  He paused, looking off into the distance as if remembering, a disturbing smile creeping over his worn face. “We had a few good times, him and me. We had some fun times. He learned to play some games. I taught him how. He liked them well enough. He was happy to play them. We was close for a bit, him and me.” His gaze shifted back to her, his face suddenly hard again. “But that’s all ended. Can’t be doing anything like that anymore. Can’t risk it. Can’t trust him not to hurt me. I got to watch him close. He’s smart, but he’s crazy, too. He gets out of control too easy. He thinks I’m doing stuff to him I’m not.”

  “What do my parents think about what you’re doing?” she asked him, wondering suddenly what he was talking about. The dismay in her voice was unmistakable. “Don’t they worry about him?”

  “They don’t ask, I don’t tell. They mostly worry for themselves. You don’t know, girl. He’s like a wild animal. They just want him out of their hair. They didn’t tell you that?”

  They hadn’t, of course. They hadn’t told her anything of what was happening here. But it was clear now that they didn’t want Tavo back. That he wasn’t their son anymore.

  And they had known better than to tell any of this to Tarsha.

  “I need to see him,” she said finally, her voice softened. “Please.”

  He started to object and stopped. Studied her a long minute and then sighed. “All right, then. But only for a few moments. And you got to do what I tell you, do w
hat I say. First off, stand right in the doorway once it’s open. Don’t take another step. Don’t let him get near you. He’s dangerous, girl. You might not want to believe it, but he is. He might not even know who you are, and he can hurt you. So you stand with me and you don’t move. You just talk to him. If you can get him to talk.”

  She nodded at once. If this was the best she could do, it would have to be enough. But if there was more to be had, more to be gained, she would press him again after she had seen how Tavo was. She had taken too long already to come here. She was not going to leave without having achieved something.

  He hesitated a moment longer—perhaps thinking, wrongly, that she might change her mind. When she just stood there staring at him, he turned and started for the shed, Tarsha at his heels. The path was well worn, suggesting her uncle had come and gone to the shed often. A larger, wider track, more a road than a path, followed in parallel fashion to the barn. Tarsha was aware of her uncle’s bulk as he lumbered along the smaller path, and she wondered momentarily if she might be in danger, but she dismissed that as foolishness. He had no reason to want to harm her.

  At the door to the shed, he stopped and turned back to her.

  “Remember what I told you. Stand beside me and do not attempt to enter on your own. Stay in the doorway and keep clear of his reach. Sometimes he don’t even know who I am. Might be so with you. You just speak to him and see if he responds. Understood?”

  She gave him a brief nod, worried now about how she would find Tavo. She felt her heart racing as he used a key to release the huge padlock that held the door secure. She listened to its loud snick, watched her uncle slip it free. The door swung open, and she peered into the gloom.

  At first, she couldn’t see anything. The shed was clapboard-built with gaps in the walls between slats where the light shone through. There were no windows. There was a floor of hay and a stall; some empty hooks fastened to the walls here and there. The smell was rank and pungent, and she wrinkled her nose.

  Then she saw Tavo, huddled at the back wall. At least, she assumed it was her brother. He was curled into a ball with his face turned away and his arms about his head. She caught a glimpse of the iron clamp locked onto his ankle and the heavy chain leading away to a ring set into a massive stone block.

  Her uncle nudged her, nodding toward the creature lying on the floor. Tavo. Her brother. She was so shocked and appalled that for a moment she couldn’t speak. How had this happened? How could her parents have allowed it?

  “Tavo?” she called softly to him. “It’s Tarsha.”

  He did not respond.

  “Tavo, please talk to me.”

  He lifted his head to look at her. Mumbled something, and then lowered his head again.

  “Tavo, I need you to talk to me. I miss you so much.”

  “You don’t miss me!” The words came out a low, harsh growl filled with anger and frustration. “You’ve never missed me. You abandoned me!”

  She cringed at the rebuke, fighting not to cry.

  “I was trying to help you. I was trying to find—”

  “Liar! You shut your filthy lying mouth! I know what you did! I don’t want you here!”

  He sprang to his feet, his face twisting into something horrible and demonic, his scream primal. Then he lunged at her and would have had her if the chain hadn’t brought him up short and yanked him backward. He collapsed in a heap then, hunched over and beaten. But his eyes were still fixed on her, their glare as hard as stone.

  His voice changed to a soft, cajoling purr. “I like it here. I love Uncle. Uncle is good to me. Uncle treats me well. When I am bad, he punishes me, but it’s for my own good. But when I am good, he lets me play those games with him, the ones he says are good for me. Uncle loves me. He does things for me that feel good and pleasant. Uncle…”

  He trailed off, going silent once more. Tarsha started forward at once, but her uncle grabbed her and dragged her from the shed, slamming the door behind him and locking it.

  “You listen to me, girl. He isn’t who he was. He isn’t a boy anymore. He’s a man, and he must learn to act like a man. He is finding this out. I am trying to teach him. You are nothing but a disruption, a distraction! Go home and you tell your parents whatever you choose about Tavo. See what they say. See if I’m not right. Now get out of here!”

  He practically threw her down the pathway. She caught herself just in time to keep from falling and stumbled away in shock. Some part of her knew that what her uncle was saying was the truth. Tavo wasn’t the boy who had left her four years earlier. He wasn’t a boy at all. But he wasn’t a full-grown man, either, and he wasn’t right in his mind. Something was seriously wrong with him, and she knew that, whatever else had helped bring it about, it was the magic at fault, too. And his inability to control it.

  But her uncle? Loathsome, terrible, vile! She hated him and she feared him at the same time. She should have used her magic against him. She berated herself for not doing so.

  She continued down the path, thinking about what she could do to help her brother, and decided she must first talk to her parents and describe what she had seen. She must find out if they had indeed given up on Tavo, if they had abandoned him for good. She must know that first.

  Then she would decide what else needed to be done.

  —

  So she returned to Backing Fell. And before her parents could get a word out to question where she had been and what she had been doing, she exploded.

  “Do you have any idea what’s happening to Tavo? He’s locked in a shed and chained to a wall! Uncle said you knew of this. He said you didn’t want Tavo back. He practically threw me off his farm! What’s wrong with you?”

  “Sit down!” her father roared back at her. “And don’t say another word!”

  Scowling, but hesitant to say more, Tarsha did as she was told.

  “Now you listen to me,” her father said, his voice gone soft again, low but still dangerous.

  Her mother was standing at his shoulder. Tarsha could tell they had been expecting this. They knew where she had been, what she had discovered, and what she would say when she arrived home. She also knew, with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, that everything her uncle had told her about her parents and Tavo was true.

  “When we took your brother to live with your uncle, we did so knowing he might not come back to us. By then he was dangerous, Tarsha. He had threatened your mother several times and struck her, as well. He had attacked me. He had hurt some of the children he played with. He had killed animals for no good reason.” He paused and took a deep breath. “There were rumors he even killed that boy who had been teasing him. I never believed those rumors, but they kept resurfacing. They never found that boy’s body. I didn’t like to believe my son was a killer, but Tavo told us once that he was glad the boy wouldn’t ever tease him again, and I was never entirely sure.”

  Her father took a chair across from her. Her mother remained standing. She was crying, her head bowed, the tears running down her face.

  “Your brother is a danger to everyone,” her father continued, still speaking softly, still with an edge to his voice. “Your mother is terrified of him. The village is frightened, as well. We don’t know what’s wrong with him or what to do about it. Maybe it’s the magic and maybe it’s just his nature, but he’s better off where he is. Jorris agreed to try to help him recover. He feels your brother needs discipline and structure, even sometimes punishment. He says Tavo has started to grow comfortable with the routine of his life and familiarity of his surroundings, so I’m leaving him there for now.”

  “But it’s been nearly four years!”

  “And it might be more than that, Tarsha. You cannot put a time limit on these things. We have to lead our lives, too, your mother and I. We have a right to our peace and quiet. We have a right to feel safe. With Tavo here, all that would be gone. Now, I don’t want to talk about it again. I won’t punish you for going to see him, but I don’t want yo
u doing it again. Just let things be. Let Jorris do what he needs to do to help the boy.”

  Tarsha was not convinced. She rose, went outside, and walked through the woods, thinking. Tavo’s professions of happiness with his life and love for his uncle did not feel real. His condition did not seem to have improved. If anything, it had deteriorated. But she understood that, even if she wanted to help him, her options were limited. Going back now would only get her in worse trouble, and she wouldn’t be able to achieve anything. She had the use of her magic, but it wasn’t much compared with her uncle’s size and brute strength. Even if she freed Tavo from the shed or from his shackles and took him away, where would they go?

  She was halfway through her wandering when she made her decision. What she needed was to find another way to help Tavo. His problems were largely the result of his inability to control the magic that he, like she, had been born with. But she was limited herself. While able to control the magic, she was largely ignorant about how to use it. What she needed to do was to find someone who could teach her to be more skilled.

  Right away, she thought of the Druids at Paranor. Teaching the uses of magic to students was a large part of their mission. If anyone could help her, they could. She would have to make the journey to Paranor and speak with them. She would ask for their help and convince them to take her on as a student.

  Then she could return to Backing Fell and help Tavo.

  Keeping her plans to herself, she began a concerted effort to find out more about the Druids and how they chose their students. She knew from listening to stories passed around by other children that only those who possessed magic were admitted into Paranor. As the weeks passed, she gleaned more snippets of knowledge about the Druid order and its workings. Some of it was useless. Some of it seemed mostly to be gossip and rumor with little or no supporting evidence. Much of it was the speculation that goes hand in hand with a group as mysterious and secretive as this one.

  But one shared point of agreement concerned Drisker Arc, the High Druid of the order and one of the most respected and skilled Druids ever to bear that title.