To Find a God

by Mary Hamilton

  A mélange of aromas wafted through the hall. Savory smells suggesting roasted meat, baked bread, and then cinnamon with something else—a touch of sweetness but more distinct. Marzi’s stomach growled reminding her that she’d not eaten since the previous night.

  “Help yourselves. As you can see, we have roasted pheasant. Our flatbread is made from ground iceberry seeds. The candied fruits are flavored with cinnamon and sweetened with talonberry nectar and thickened sap of the mabon tree, which grows in abundance just south of Lorrin Pass.”

  Marzi took an empty plate from a stack on the table and moved toward the food before she was interrupted.

  “If I may be so bold, Marzi, perhaps you and I could take our meal aside?” Elondiel gestured toward the door.

  She looked longingly at the food and sighed. “Yes, of course.”

  The frost elf, apparently noticing her reticence, smiled. “I have platters set out in the other room.”

  As they settled into chairs at a small table in a side room, Elondiel gestured toward the food on the table, which was, by all appearances, identical to that in the main room. “Please, take some. I must admit that the candied fruit is a weakness for me, especially that sweetened with mabon syrup.”

  Marzi heaped her plate and poured a cup of nectar. Her first bite of the pheasant produced an explosion of taste in her mouth. She was simply not used to the complex combination of flavors. The meat melted in her mouth. “Mmmm. This is delicious,” she uttered as she followed the meat with a forkful of fruit.

  His smile was the only acknowledgement of the compliment. “I hope you will forgive the diversion, but I felt that our discussion might be more productive in private. I find that the absence of an audience can produce a certain… flexibility.”

  She chewed a small piece of bread as she considered his statement. If nothing else, though, Elondiel seemed to pursue the same manner of speaking as all the other elves she’d met—talking in circles without really saying anything.

  “In the interest of full disclosure, I will tell you more about the others in my party. Andu’lar is my son, my oldest child, and serves as my advisor. His strength is in understanding the breadth and depth of issues facing our people. He has a remarkable ability to see problems from different perspectives and suggests what I might call creative solutions.”

  Marzi had not expected that. She had not recognized any age differences. None of the frost elves looked as young as her friends. But, then again, Elondiel didn’t look that old, either. It occurred to her that, other than Rys, Ran, and Elle, all the Bough elves she’d seen looked about the same age, although she was at a loss as to what age that might be.

  “My daughter, Corhymin, is a unique young woman. As a military strategist, she is unequaled. Of course, you must understand that we have not fought any wars in the last two centuries so our knowledge and skills in that arena are theoretical. Still, she has a remarkable mind for such matters. But more than that, it is a passion for her.” He poured another glass of nectar for himself and filled Marzi’s cup as well.

  “Brysten I have known for many years, and she has proven herself as a loyal and fiercely intelligent woman. She oversees our military readiness, organizing our forces to balance kingdom defense and down country scouting. It is worth noting that every frost elf of an age is required to participate as a member of our army. Even the elderly serve in advisory and counseling capacities. We view our survival as a communal responsibility.”

  Marzi swallowed a mouthful of pheasant and wiped her lips with a cloth napkin. “And what of the other one, I forget his name, but he looked a little younger.”

  Elondiel chuckled. “Yes, that would be Lar’donal, my lead scout. He likes to be called Lar. In contrast to my daughter, whose passion is strategy, Lar is a brilliant tactician. He has a sense about deploying and coordinating resources in the field. But, I will repeat, all of this is based on theory and practice combat. The reality is that your friends have seen more actual fighting than have any of my people. And it is for this reason that your party has a measure of credibility.”

  Marzi thought back to the fight after their visit to the Ruins of Koror—the terror of the attack and the grief of death. There seemed nothing honorable or good about it, other than the fact that it was forced upon them and they survived, well, except for the two dark elves that had died in that attack. And one other had died in a separate attack. And here this noble frost elf spoke of combat, strategy, and tactics as though they were games or something. Death made it more real.

  Her host continued, “Still, these issues are delicate ones. The convergence of events elicits a host of conflicting courses of action. The advice I am offered is contradictory. These humans we captured, they invaded our land and slashed their way toward our gates, killing everything that crossed their path. And yet you ask me to spare them. Our laws demand their lives. There are larger problems still. We see this party and you speak of others. But the message you claim to bring from Valyn refers to a much larger, more dangerous force. Where is that force? How large is it? And where do we confront it? I am conflicted. If we wait here and bolster our defenses, we risk an overwhelming assault from which there can be no retreat. If, as Valyn dictates, we take the battle to the humans, we risk stepping into a war the magnitude of which we do not know. We could find ourselves in a foreign world overwhelmed, having left our own kingdom undefended. As you can see, there are many questions and few answers.”

  These were questions to which Marzi had not the slightest clue how to answer. Mindful of Rintaur’s advice, she responded, “I’m sorry that I don’t know the answers to any of those questions. And, as far as Valyn goes, I’m afraid that she doesn’t always answer my questions, even when she talks to me, which she does only when she chooses. All I know is what little she told me, which I relayed to you, and that which I have seen with my own eyes. The battle we fought was small and over very quickly. And yet two elves and all of the humans died.”

  In the silence that ensued, an image of the wolf creeping into their camp to communicate with Lapis flashed across her mind. “While we were camped, a wolf came to us. He wasn’t as big as Lapis but the two of them seemed to talk, you know, like they were speaking with no sound. As it turns out, a body we found near the crossroads was part of the human party that you captured. But the wolf told us something really strange. It said that these humans were being controlled by something else. I just thought that, since you had them here, the prisoners might be able to answer some of your questions, too.”

  Elondiel nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, the wolves. Gemma, the frost wolf that you saw earlier, is a cousin of Lapis. Those two are among the last of a generation of animals… no, they are more than animals. They are cognizant beings in their own right. They have co-existed with us for as long as history speaks. The other wolves you speak of, the ones in the wild, they are also related but more distantly. I confess that Gemma has a better relationship with them than do we. There is a peace between us that both sides observe. But more to the point, Gemma told us, or rather confirmed for us, your story with regard to Valyn, at least from the perspective of Lapis. I still have many questions and more than a few doubts. But, as I said, for now I am willing to move forward taking some of this on faith.”

  “So, we can try to speak with the humans?”

  “I am not sure that I fully understand what you ask. With regard to that particular question, yes, we can try to speak with them. But if your request is to permanently spare their lives, then that will require further consideration. I can tell you with certainty that any such decision would be met with vigorous debate among our people. A sentence of mercy would require a substantial and easily seen justification.”

  Marzi started to argue, although she had no idea what argument she would use.

  Fortunately, Elondiel continued, answering his own concern, “But let us take this one step at a time. We shall speak with these humans. Perhaps that will give us some new insight. And based on that,
we can make better decisions.”

  Marzi’s building sense of dread retreated. She had done what Valyn had asked and now it appeared that the frost elves would join the alliance. Her job was done.

  Chapter 62: Tovi

  The meal—dinner or lunch, whatever it was—started in silence. The tension between Klunk and Kharla had intensified and, at least as far as Tovi could tell, the lack of discussion was the most reasonable alternative. It seems every time the two spoke, it ended up with harsh words, at least from Kharla. Klunk, for his part, seemed to make an effort at respect. Mugrok had left the party in the main cavern with a promise to return later.

  But another issue weighed on the Azyrean’s mind. The voice that had been his mysterious companion since well before the journey started had fallen silent. It was true that Tovi felt an outside influence trying to get through to him but he couldn’t make anything out. And then something changed. While standing next to River, with his hand on the dog’s fur, he felt a reassurance that he was on the right track.

  But what did that mean? Were they on the right track by helping Mugrok? Or were they on the right track by being careful about him? Was Klunk right about needing to talk to Myhrren or was Mugrok right? Sadly, River didn’t communicate the answer. So Tovi was left to sit and eat his dried hare meat in the semi-light of the cavern, enveloped in awkward silence.

  Kharla finally broke the impasse. “So, what are we going to do?”

  Klunk chewed on his meat, looking down at the floor. “We are going to eat. Then we will sleep. When we are rested, we will leave the cavern and go to Myhrren’s hut and speak to him. After that, hopefully we will better know our course. If we are meant to help the spirit, then we will.

  A worried look swept over Kharla’s face that was visible even in the dim light. Whatever she was thinking, though, she kept to herself. She withdrew a small piece of fabric from her pack, wrapped some leftover meat, and restowed it. “I’m going to sleep.” And with that, she reclined, pulled a sheet over her shoulders, and turned away from the two.

  ◆◆◆

  Snippets of visions—Kharla and Klunk arguing, Mugrok’s unsettling grin, and River’s intense gaze—danced through Tovi’s dreams. He awoke with a start, the cavern dark except for a single illuminated crystal on the far side. River stood beside the young Azyrean, nudging his face with a wet nostril.

  “What?” Tovi pushed the dog’s face away. “What do you want?” He almost called him “Marzi.”

  River whined and moved closer, nudging him again.

  Tovi sat up and looked around the cavern. Growl kept the snoring Klunk, lying against the wall on the other side of the cavern, company. But Kharla’s spot was empty.

  The Azyrean stood and walked around the cavern, as though he might find her in some dark corner. Except that there weren’t any dark corners. And her backpack was gone.

  He shuffled over and shook his ogre friend. “Hey. Wake up, Klunk.”

  “Ugh. What is it?” Klunk rubbed his eyes and he propped up on an elbow.

  “Kharla’s gone.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know. I just woke up and she wasn’t here. Her pack is gone too.” Tovi continued to wander around the cavern, inspecting each crack and crevice.

  Klunk stood and also began pacing. “Maybe she went up through the pool to the outside.” His voice carried an unmistakable tone of worry.

  And then Tovi noticed something. “Look. The parts, all the things we gathered, they’re gone too. There’s nothing left here.”

  Klunk’s eyes had grown wide. He moved around the cavern illuminating all of the crystals with a touch of his hand. “Are you sure? Maybe they’re in your pack, or mine.”

  But Tovi knew better. And he also knew that Klunk knew better. “She took them. And I don’t think she went outside with them. She went deeper into the tunnels.” A wave of fear swept over him. “It’s Mugrok. He made her do it.”

  Growl and River positioned themselves at the tunnel leading out of the cavern. They sniffed at the ground and then looked back at Tovi and Klunk.

  The ogre went over and plopped down, slamming his fist on his pack. After a moment of staring at the floor, he announced, “We must get to Myhrren, quickly. He can tell us what to do. Come, get your things, we go.”

  Tovi strode over to him. “No, Klunk. That’s not right. We can’t leave Kharla. She is not safe here in the caverns.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “There are some things I’ve noticed. For one thing, Mugrok’s eyes, did you see them? Sometimes they have red in them. It’s like he’s hiding something.”

  “No. I didn’t see anything like that.”

  “Something’s not right about him, Klunk, I’m telling you.”

  Klunk just looked at him without speaking.

  Tovi concentrated on the ogre ghost. What was it that was off? What was wrong? He looked like an ogre, well, mostly, except for the ghost part. His clothes looked like regular ogre clothes. But he died a long time ago. Did they wear the same kind of clothes back then? Probably.

  “Maybe Myhrren can tell us more about this spirit.” Klunk seemed determined to leave the cavern.

  “Whatever he tells us, we still have to come back in and find Kharla. We might as well do it now. She might be… well, it might be too late when we come back.” Tovi closed his eyes and conjured the image of Mugrok again. What was it? Not the clothes. Not the shoes. What else was there? The pack. What about it?

  Tovi opened his eyes wide. “That’s it, Klunk. I have it. Remember when you told me that Mamaw came up with the way that packs are sewn now? The old ones frayed around the edges but she learned how to fold them under before sewing and they are smooth. She just did this. Mugrok died more than a hundred years ago. But his ghost is carrying a pack that has its edges folded under.” He stared at Klunk.

  The ogre gazed back in confusion. “What? I don’t understand what you mean.”

  “It’s a lie. Don’t you see? The ghost is a lie. He can’t be more than a hundred years old because he’s carrying a pack that your mother just learned how to sew a few years ago.”

  Klunk reached up and scratched his head. “But why would a ghost lie to us?”

  “Maybe it’s not a ghost. Maybe it’s something else. Remember that I said I saw some red in its eyes? Maybe the spirit is just something it shows us to make us believe it. Maybe it was trying to trick us into helping it.”

  “Then what is it?”

  Tovi stood before Klunk, hands on his hips, looking up at his friend. “I don’t know, but whatever it is, I’d say it’s not our friend. And that means that Kharla is in trouble. We have to find her.”

  Growl and River, standing at the entrance to the tunnel, barked in unison.

  Chapter 63: Tovi

  “Why did she take the metal pieces?” Tovi crept along behind his friend, who eased his way down the tunnel, illuminating the crystals as he went.

  Klunk didn’t answer. He continued to move, slowly but steadily.

  “If she’s out looking for the other pieces, she could have left the ones we already found, and we could have put them together right there. That would have been easier.”

  The two emerged into another large open cavern. Once the crystals were shining there, they could see tunnels leading off in three different directions aside from the one they had just used. “Nothing. She’s not here. Which tunnel did she take?”

  Klunk stopped and turned. “I have no answers, Tovi. I don’t know why she left and I don’t know for sure which way she went. We can only search as best we can.”

  Growl and River, almost as one, bolted for the tunnel on the far right and stood at its entrance, which prompted Klunk to add, “It looks like she went that way.”

  “What do you think Mugrok wanted with the pieces? Do you really think he wanted to cross over into the next life?” Tovi had no experience with the notion of a “next life.” It sounded interesting and had made sense when the ghos
t talked about it. But now, with everything he’s seen and Kharla disappearing, the Azyrean was beginning to wonder.

  Instead of responding to the question, Klunk spoke to Growl. “Okay. You know the way. Lead us.”

  Growl and River moved down the tunnel with the grace of predators in the hunt. Klunk followed behind them, illuminating crystals on the way, with Tovi bringing up the rear. In the distance, Tovi could hear the rhythmic drip of water, which grew louder with each step.

  As they turned a corner and illuminated a first crystal, Tovi caught his breath and his heart began to pound. In front of them, blocking the tunnel for as far as the light reached, were hundreds or even thousands of bug-like creatures, things he’d never seen.

  “Scorpions.” Klunk informed him. “Very dangerous. They have stingers with poison.” He backed up a step and stared. To their credit, the two dogs held back as well, staring at the army in front of them.

  “How did Kharla get through them? I mean, she obviously came this way.” Tovi was confident in River and Growl’s ability to track. “We need to get past them.”

  Even as he uttered the words, the mass of scorpions began to move toward them giving forth a loud, almost ear-shattering clicking. Klunk and Tovi backed up. The things pressed forward.

  River and Growl began to bark, but it had no apparent effect on the attackers. The first wave of scorpions came within arm’s reach and Klunk swung his club, first as a swipe across the floor and then, rearing back, slammed it down in the middle of the armored brigade.

  Rather than blood gushing, bright purple lights flashed with each strike as scores of the bugs disappeared into thin air only to be replaced by another wave, and then another, and another.

  “What’s going on? Why’s this happening?” Tovi’s words came out as something between a shout and a scream. Terror had completely taken over.

  Klunk continued to swing and smash. Growl and River had pounced into the fray, although it was difficult to see whether they were actually doing any good or not. They snapped and swiped with their paws but Tovi couldn’t tell what was happening to the scorpions around them.