by P. M. Biswas
“—we have conducted the vote as per our laws and have collectively decided that it is to our mutual benefit to forge an alliance with the humans and to use the Earthstone against Danis. We elves will send the Earthstone to Mount Zivan, along with our Seer, who will channel its power and will unleash its wrath upon Danis’s army of the undead. We hope that you, our human allies, will assist us in traveling to the mountain, as we are unfamiliar with the terrain and will have to trespass upon your territory to reach it.”
“It will not be a trespass if it is solicited.” Emeraude made an all-encompassing gesture at her ministers, although how much they had contributed to her decision was unclear. “While we were resting, we received a message—via messenger pigeon—from an outpost of ours along the Axenborg border. They have confirmed the incoming of Danis’s troops.” Emeraude hesitated. “How the pigeon managed to find us in the Wanderwood, I am uncertain, but I promise you that it was not an act of sabotage by us, nor of treason against our new alliance.”
Nala, who had escorted the human delegation, stepped forward. “King Eras.” She bowed. “It appears that the Wanderwood was apprised of our discussions and permitted the bird to fly in.”
“I am aware of that, Sentinel.” Eras dismissed Nala with a nod. “As I am the one who apprised the forest.”
“Oh,” said Tam, hushed so that none but Loren could hear her. “Oh, that’s just neat. The apprising part. Um. Not the awful news part.”
“Be quiet,” Loren replied, just as hushed. “Our fates are changing forever and you insist on providing comic commentary?”
“Nothing wrong with comic commentary,” Tam retorted in an undertone, “especially when our fates are changing. It’s stress relief. Everybody needs it.”
It was only when Emeraude leveled a quelling glance at Tam from the stage that Tam shut up.
Emeraude proceeded with her announcement. “We humans have resolved to do everything we can to grant the Earthstone safe passage to Mount Zivan. We ask only that a representative of ours be in the convoy transporting the Stone, in order to ensure that our interests are served.”
“We would also prefer it if a guard from our Sentinels were present, to protect the Stone and the Seer, and perhaps an additional representative of elfkind to carry the Stone itself.” Eras drummed his fingers on his throne’s armrest. “At her age, Soma cannot be burdened with carrying the Stone on such a difficult journey, and the guard must be free to fight should the group be accosted by thieves or by hostile agents belonging to Danis. Thus, another elf is required as the Stone’s courier.”
“That is understandable.” Emeraude paused pensively. “Given the narrowness of the path to Mount Zivan’s peak, the convoy must contain no more than a few persons. A larger party may not survive the climb and will move more sluggishly when speed is of the essence. It will also be more likely to be noticed by any scouts Danis may have around the pass. Stealth is crucial to the success of this endeavor. I suggest keeping our joint convoy to a maximum of four—the Seer, the guard, the Stone’s courier from among the elves, and a single envoy from the humans.”
“Nala will be the guard,” Eras said, “provided she accepts.”
“I accept, King Eras.” Nala lifted her chin in pride, honored to be chosen even though this errand might result in her death. The elves were immortal, but only if they did not will their own deaths. If Nala was ever trapped in a quandary where she had to choose between her own survival and the success of her assigned task, it was obvious which she would choose. Nala would sacrifice herself without a second thought.
Tam swallowed in admiration… and in envy. She wanted to serve. She wanted to be the human envoy. She—
Why couldn’t she be the human envoy?
Tam stood up, even as Loren—likely intuiting her intentions through the bond—tried frantically to yank her back down. “I volunteer as the envoy,” Tam said to her queen, meeting Emeraude’s eyes squarely. “Allow me to be the envoy, Your Majesty.”
Emeraude remained unmoving, as if frozen. It wasn’t that she was surprised at Tam’s proposal; it was evident that she wasn’t. There was a bleak certainty in her features, a shroud of sorrow that presaged the loss of Tam’s life, of the girl-child that Emeraude had watched grow up.
Emeraude’s gaze left Tam to drift over her ministers, all of whom cowered before her, terrified of being selected for this suicide mission. There were more royal guards waiting in the human encampment outside the Wanderwood, guards who would obey Emeraude’s orders more willingly, but none of them were as familiar with the Stone—and with the elves—as Tam was.
And Emeraude herself was the queen. A queen could not abandon her kingdom and go on a quest whenever she pleased… particularly not on a quest this deadly.
Tam could see every round of Emeraude’s mental debate, for Emeraude was letting her see it. Emeraude was letting Tam see how agonizing this was for her.
When Emeraude’s eyes drifted back to Tam, they were full of grief.
“Tam,” Emeraude began and then dropped her gaze, as if ashamed.
Tam hurt at the sight of that shame. “Your Majesty….”
“I said I would protect you, and yet here I am, asking again and again for what no monarch should have to ask a child.” Emeraude pressed a hand to her mouth. “You…. If you leave on this perilous journey, your life is not guaranteed.”
“When is it ever?” Tam jerked a thumb at Loren. “It wasn’t guaranteed when I met this fellow. I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for him, and even if I were, there’s no saying how long I’d be alive for. The time of our deaths is not known to us. I have elected not to concern myself with mine.”
There was a deafening silence.
Emeraude was looking at Tam as if at an apparition. Soma’s eyes were now open, milky-white and blind but fixed unerringly on Tam—as if what the Seer saw in Tam was incandescent enough to capture even her attention. Loren had instinctively reached up to clutch Tam’s hand, as if to drag her back from the edge of an abyss.
Holding hands like children while asking to be assigned to a world-saving quest was downright embarrassing, but before Tam could shake her hand free of Loren’s, he stood as well.
“I will be the courier,” Loren stated. It wasn’t a request. There was a darkness and a determination in his voice that brooked no argument.
Eras looked stunned. “My son….”
“I am not just your son. I am the prince. My kingdom depends on a trustworthy courier being given the duty of carrying the Stone, and there can be none more trustworthy than I, bound as I am by blood and title to the Wanderwood itself.”
Tam gaped at him. Gone was Loren’s indecisiveness and self-hatred from before, when he had bemoaned not having a more organic, more elven connection with the earth. Here he was, boasting about that connection as though it were more powerful than any other elf’s, save the king’s and the Seer’s.
“I may not yet be of age to vote, but my absence from the vote makes me unbiased as no other elf is. I can be trusted not to execute my personal agenda—” Loren looked tellingly at Alfernas “—and to execute only the agenda of my people.” Loren released Tam’s hand and knelt. “Please, my king. I ask this of you as your heir and not as your son. Send me on this journey. I will return worthier of my title than I have ever been.”
Eras beheld his son as he would a stranger. Who are you? he seemed to be thinking. Eventually Eras said, “And what if you never return?”
Loren raised his eyes to his father’s. “Then that is what nature intends for me, and the citizens will elect a replacement for me when you retire.”
“The line of succession has not been interrupted for more than a millennium.” Eras sighed. “Am I to believe that this has nothing to do with your bond with the human girl, and your need to be with her when she is in danger?”
“She is always in danger,” Loren said frankly. “She puts herself in it with a frequency that has ceased alarming me, if only because it is ine
vitable.”
Oh gods, this was mortifying. Loren was making it out as if this was—as if it was—but it wasn’t. “He shot me in the shoulder, just earlier,” Tam said, and Loren whirled to her with betrayal writ large on his face. “I mean, he healed me after, but he did shoot me. I doubt he’s as swayed by the bond as you think he is.”
“Or you are just that masterful at provoking him, and the bond demands that he go along with you, even against his better judgment.”
“That’s….” Tam’s belly flipped with a sickening lurch. “That’s disturbing. You make it sound as though he cannot rightfully consent to anything while he is bonded.”
Loren made as if to speak, his betrayal replaced by worry, but Eras waved him silent.
“I did not consent to my wife’s death,” Eras said, “when she gave up her life so that she may give birth to our son. It occurred regardless.”
Oh. So that was what had happened to Loren’s mother; she’d died in childbirth. Tam had wondered. The familiar heartache of her own parents’ passing rose up within her, compounded by the injustice of Loren having had to endure it too. But Tam suppressed that heartache, because this was not the time to mourn—be it for Loren’s misfortune or her own. “That isn’t the same thing, and you know it.”
“It isn’t,” Eras conceded after a while. “You’re a stubborn creature, aren’t you?”
“As Astar made me.” Tam smiled shakily. “Your Majesty,” she said to Emeraude, “am I to be your envoy?”
“I had predicted this outcome since before we departed for the Wanderwood,” Emeraude said unsurprisingly, “but it is no less tolerable to me now than it was then.”
“So it is me?”
“Yes, Tam, it is you.” Exhaustion rendered Emeraude’s beautiful countenance older, harder and more jagged, as if it was an exhaustion of the soul and not merely of the body. “May Astar be with you.”
“He will be,” Tam asserted. “He has no choice. It is either lose His entire kingdom of Astaris or give His blessings to our quest. Logic!” Tam proclaimed with zeal. “It’s pure logic that He will be with us.”
Loren groaned.
“What?” Tam asked indignantly. Surely what she’d said didn’t deserve that reaction.
“Every time I forget how surreal you are, you say something like that.”
“What was amiss with what I said? It was the truth!” Tam cuffed Loren lightly. “You may not believe in Astar, but He does exist. You’ll see.”
“That wasn’t what I…. Never mind.” Loren turned to Eras. “My king.” Loren still did not address Eras as his father. “Will I be the courier?”
“You will,” Eras said heavily, like it cost him to say it. “If anything, your bond with the human ensures that she will be unable to harm you, should the alliance fall through. It is an additional safeguard that any other elf would not have.”
“Tam wouldn’t kill me,” Loren declared, “even if we weren’t bonded.”
“Oh?” Eras looked skeptical. “And why would that be?”
“Because I’m—I’m her—” Loren’s mouth flapped soundlessly.
“Comrade,” Tam finished for him. Gods, he was useless. “He’s my comrade. That’s why.”
Eras’s eyebrows had risen so far, they were practically at his hairline. “Really.” He regarded Loren’s complicated expression with amusement. “Ha! I sympathize with you, my son. I wish you luck.”
Why did Tam get the distinct feeling that it wasn’t the mission Eras was wishing Loren luck for?
“So, that’s that.” Tam put her hands on her hips. “Nala guards the Seer, Loren carries the Stone, and I tag along for moral support. I’m great at moral support.” Tam winked. “When you’re on a march to near-certain death, what you need is a good joke or two.”
“Your jokes are terrible,” Loren said.
“No, they’re not. What about you? You couldn’t tell a joke to save your life. Not that you’ll have to,” Tam added quickly. “I hope. Er.”
“And you, Holy Seer?” Emeraude asked Soma, who had insofar remained uninvolved. “Does this plan meet with your approval?”
Soma smiled beatifically. “It more than meets with my approval. I am blessed to spend my penultimate days with such sweet children.”
Nala was a sweet child too?
No, the more serious issue was Soma’s suggestion that she would not outlive this quest. Nala, Tam, and Loren may have to fight—and therefore die—but why would Soma have to get embroiled in any conflict? Could she not remain hidden away whilst her younger companions fought? “Seer Soma,” said Tam, “What do you mean by your penultimate days?”
“Have you forgotten, dear? Using the Stone requires the sacrifice of the one who uses it. The user is but a conduit that absorbs the Stone and relays its magic, and the conduit cannot channel such powerful energy without shattering. Hence, I will shatter.”
“L-literally?” Tam was appalled. What a grisly image that was, Soma simply exploding. Blood and guts everywhere.
“No, not literally,” Soma said indulgently. “Figuratively. My flesh will remain intact, lifeless though it may be.”
Tam’s heart sank. “B-but what happens to the Earth Elves if they lose their Seer?” Weren’t the Seers essential to the elves’ welfare? Without Soma, how would they interact with the earth?
“A new Seer will be born.” Soma was so unconcerned about it that it was as though her own death was irrelevant. “The magic lives on, even if the Seer does not—and I am already fortunate to have lived such a lengthy and happy life. Now,” she said briskly, “I have sent Makiya, my attendant, to fetch the Stone for me.” Soma tilted her head as if scrying where Makiya was. “She approaches.”
Makiya was a girl of no more than eight, tripping on her feet as she hurried into the court. In her arms she held a bundle of silken black cloth unlike any fabric Tam had ever seen, for over it flowed golden patterns of some arcane alphabet, symbols that shifted and moved as if alive.
Periodically, the cloth seemed to vanish altogether, only to reappear, as if it was partly invisible or as if it were not completely based in reality. That must be the sacred cloth Loren had mentioned, the cloth that concealed the Stone and that Alfernas had ensorcelled.
That petty arsehole had created an object this magnificent? It was confounding.
Makiya gingerly laid the bundle in Soma’s lap, and Soma gave her a grandmotherly peck on the cheek. Tears filled Makiya’s eyes.
“Oh, my child,” Soma said to her. “You will miss me, and I will miss you, but as the years go by, you will find my memory more of a joy than a sorrow. You are yet young. Your heart is more resilient than the tired old organ palpitating away in my chest! Go on, go back to playing with your friends. I shall see you again before I depart.”
The girl sniffled and rubbed at her eyes before darting away, quick as a rabbit, and Tam ached for her. Soma may have remained unmarried and without a wife or a husband, but she would be sorely missed by her people, perhaps even more so than Loren, who was their prince.
Soma unwrapped the bundle that had been delivered to her, and Tam craned her neck to look as the Stone was unveiled. Tam didn’t know what she had expected—a massive gem cut into the shape of a dragon? An uncannily glowing orb?—but all that emerged was a humble block of brown granite, featureless and drab and utterly unexciting.
Tam deflated. What a disappointment that was! The Stone didn’t pulse like Soma’s magic did. It just lay there in Soma’s lap, inert and roughly textured as a rock just hewn from the earth. It wasn’t even pleasingly symmetrical; it wasn’t a circle or an oval but some lopsided cross between a square and a triangle. In was mediocre in size, too, smaller than Tam had envisaged, given that much of its bulk had been the cloth padding it. Once revealed, it was no bigger than a hand-width in all directions.
“That is the most uncharming stone I’ve ever seen,” Tam said, after leaning over to speak in Loren’s ear. “Not that I think stones can be charming.”
“It is not just any stone.” Loren frowned at her. “It is our Stone.”
“Unimpressive, though, isn’t it?”
All Tam got was another jab of Loren’s elbow for her efforts. Hm. Perhaps by insulting the Stone, she could goad him into sparring with her again.
The elves, King Eras included, beheld the Stone with reverence. Soma cupped it in her palms, closed her eyes, and pressed each closed eyelid to it in what must be a ritual. “Earthstone, be my Sight. Help me see into the hearts of those chosen for this quest, and if they are not suited to it, direct me to those who are.”
There was a prolonged lull as Soma consulted with the Stone. Nobody budged. Nobody spoke. Nobody so much as batted an eyelash.
It made Tam restless. She was unaccustomed to being without movement or speech for any duration; her bunkmate, Piotr, had often griped about how she tossed from side to side and talked even in her sleep.
So it was unavoidable that Tam would chatter. She just had to. Going without activity was making her brain melt out of her ears.
“So it’s called the Earthstone,” Tam remarked to Loren under her breath. “What a bollocksy name that is. Of course it’s an Earthstone. Aren’t all stones from the earth?”
Loren looked at her with such shocked outrage that Tam briefly feared sparking a diplomatic incident. But only briefly.
“What? It’s a pointless name, and you know it.”
“The Earthstone is our holiest artifact and our most precious treasure,” Loren hissed.
“Doesn’t change the fact that its name is silly,” Tam insisted.
“You’re the one whose name rhymes with ham.”
“And you’re the one whose name rhymes with boring.”
“What?” Loren exclaimed, his volume rising. “No it doesn’t!”
“Yes it does, Boring Loren. Loren the Borin’.”
“That doesn’t even make any—”
“Children,” Soma interjected.
Loren’s jaw snapped shut with a click so loud that Tam was astonished he hadn’t bitten off his tongue. Loren bowed his head in apology, his cheeks burning. “I am sorry for the disruption, Seer. Please go on.”
