The Elemental Trilogy Box Set

by Toni Cox

  “Like I said before, I believe Silas is aware of what is happening and if he is not telling Jagaer I am sure not going to be the one to do so. There is more happening here, but I want to know exactly what before I tell anyone about it. Maia has been my charge for a year now, but she is more than that. She is my friend and if I can help her before she gets into trouble, then I will.”

  “I cannot believe it,” Aaron said. “Why would she have agreed to marry me if she had any kind of relationship with Blaid? It just does not make sense.”

  Rothea kept quiet until Aaron looked at her, waiting for an answer. When she finally spoke, her voice was heavy with sadness.

  “I believe she agreed to the union because she believed Blaid had forsaken her after the war and, at some point, she believed him dead. She confided in me a few times during the time she was ill, as I was the only one who had seen them together. I know she did not tell me everything, but I did not press for more information. The reason it took her so long to get better was not because of the severity of her injuries, but because she was pining for Blaid.” Rothea looked over to him and her eyes held only compassion. “I am so sorry, Aaron.”

  Aaron stared out at the landscape around them, the mountains to their left, the fir trees that lined the road, the open plains to their right, but failed to see the beauty of it. His world came crashing down around him and he suddenly realised he had been living a lie.

  He had known that Maia did not love him anymore when they came to Elveron, but lived in the hope he could win her heart back. He worked so hard to regain her trust, to make her happy, to become one of them and, after the last war, he truly believed he had won her over again.

  Now, armed with this new information and his heart in pieces, he suddenly saw it all for what it was. Likes scales falling from his eyes, everything was clear now.

  Maia’s sparse conversations with him, her vacant looks, her guarded answers. The signs had been there, he had just not seen them, because he had not wanted to believe it.

  His first reaction now was to turn around and ride back to Shadow Hall and to forget about Maia, but he could not simply change how he felt about her. His feelings for her were real, even if everything he believed about their relationship had been a lie.

  “Thank you for being so honest with me, Rothea.” He ground his teeth. “Please excuse me, but I think I will ride at the back for a while. I have a lot to think about.”

  Rothea nodded, and he turned Mist King’s head and trotted him past their caravan to position himself just ahead of the rear guard, who rode about a hundred paces behind the main group.

  So many emotions warred within him that he could not think clearly for a long time. When they stopped at noon to water the horses, he declined the offer of lunch and was glad when they remounted their horses to ride on. By the time the sun had travelled across the sky and started to set, he had still not come to terms with what Rothea revealed.

  That evening, he collected his dinner from Neth and immediately retired to his tent without speaking to anyone. He ate without tasting the food and then climbed onto his cot, staring at the green wall of his tent.

  He had thought the tents the most amazing creations when he first came. Light, soft, waterproof and warm. Because he had liked them so much, he did research on how the Elves made them and, although he now knew, it took away none of the wonder.

  Thinking back to those first few days on Elveron got him thinking about everything else that had happened in the years they had been here. With his mind clearer now and his thoughts more ordered, he reviewed all his interactions with Maia and her behaviour in general and towards him.

  Had it all been a lie? Grudgingly, he had to admit that most of what he thought of as affectionate behaviour from Maia was really only kindness. She had never lied to him, never led him on or in any other way insinuated that she wanted to be with him.

  The only time she had actively done anything was when she agreed to marrying him. That, as he now knew, was as a result of her believing Blaid to be dead and, no matter how angry he was, he could not be upset with Maia for looking for comfort in him when she believed the man she really wanted was gone.

  Aaron harrumphed and turned over on his cot; he could not believe the thoughts in his own head. He searched for that anger that kept him silent all day, but it had evaporated. Maia did nothing to him to be angry about. In the end, she even came to him, to ask for the annulment, and even then she told him honestly that she did not feel the same way about him as he felt for her.

  The heartache remained, though, and so did the feeling that he had been foolish to think Maia would ever choose him. He had twenty good years with her on Earth; Lisa had been his soul mate. All he could blame Maia for was bringing them here, but even that had not been a bad thing.

  Still, his feelings for Maia could not just be erased and he loved her still. If she was, indeed, in trouble, or would be if she got together with Blaid, then he should do whatever he could to help her. This thinking was why Rothea agreed to accompany him. She did not agree with Maia’s actions, yet she loved her so much, she would do anything to help her friend. If Aaron could not be Maia’s husband, at least he could be her friend.

  His heart broke anew at the thought and he rolled over again. Although he had lived without Maia ever since arrival, he always had hope. Now that hope was gone, he felt adrift.

  Feeling himself slip into the darkness of depression, he sat up. He was a practical man, loving order and precision, and was often described as a man driven by his work. No one had ever called him an overly emotional person and he did not usually enjoy being around people whose lives were dictated by their emotions.

  What he needed now, was direction. He needed a new goal, something to keep him occupied until his heartache eased. He made the decision to carry on looking for Maia, no matter what it took. His mission would essentially still be the same; to bring Maia back to her people. Besides his outlook, nothing had changed. He would need to learn to live with this heartache. He knew it would take long to go away, for he had loved Maia - and Lisa - for a very long time.

  The tent was completely dark and he closed his eyes, trying not to think of Maia. He thought about his conversation with Rothea and the last thing on his mind before he fell asleep was Rothea’s face.

  Jaik rode Firestorm at the front of his group, sitting straight in his saddle, alert and paying attention to every detail as they rode.

  After his lapse on the first day, Jaik had not let himself slide again. He had taken charge, as his men were accustomed to and, given the danger of their situation, driven his men to haste.

  The two hundred and twenty-five mile journey normally took five days, yet here they were, at the end of the fourth day with only twenty miles to go. It was already dark and Jaik had seriously considered making camp as the sun went down, to continue in the morning, but something drove him to carry on and his instincts were seldom wrong.

  Now, riding in the dark with torches held high, he was on full alert. The city of Braérn was tantalisingly close, yet still so far away. The horses had been going all day and he could not ask more of them than a light trot.

  They were making about ten miles an hour at this pace and would reach the city in just two hours. Two hours too long in Jaik’s mind, but he could not fathom where his anxiety came from.

  “Rider!” Tallson shouted, riding rear guard.

  “Carry on,” he commanded Glark, who rode just behind him.

  Jaik turned Firestorm’s head and cantered back down the line to Tallson.

  “There, My Lord.” Tallson pointed at the speck of torchlight in the distance.

  Jaik thought for a moment. The light was too far away to see if it was friend or foe. He could let them come and hope it was a Scout or Messenger from one of the cities, or he could ride towards them with Tallson to lead them away from the rest of his people should they be Vampyres. Jaik decided on the latter.

  “Let us greet them before they reach
us,” he said to Tallson, who nodded in agreement.

  Together, they spurred their horses into a fast canter towards the approaching light. Tallson carried his own torch and the unknown entity would be aware of them approaching.

  It did not take long for the two parties to meet and Jaik was relieved to find it was, indeed, a Scout. His horse was lathered and breathing hard, and his torch was almost burned out.

  “Vampyres!” the man shouted before they even came together. “And Werewolves. Thirty of them. Chasing me.”

  The Scout galloped past them without stopping. Jaik and Tallson turned their horses and raced after him.

  “Too many for us to deal with on our own,” Jaik yelled across at Tallson.

  “We need to find out how far behind they are,” Tallson yelled back.

  They soon caught up with the Scout and Jaik questioned him as they galloped on. The Vampyres were only a mile or so behind and, unless they kept galloping, would catch up with them soon.

  Jaik clenched his jaw at the information and considered his options. They were few.

  “Tallson, get the others moving,” he ordered.

  The Guard urged his horse to more speed to catch up with the group ahead. Although they had ridden all day, their pace had been such that their horses were still relatively fresh. The Scout’s horse, however, was spent, having galloped for who knew how long already.

  He asked the question.

  “They were hiding at the place where we usually make camp for the night. The last stop-over before Braérn. They killed my two companions,” the Scout answered.

  Cold shivers ran down Jaik’s back as he realised that was where they would have stopped for the night had he not chosen to keep going. He did not want to think about what might have happened.

  His group galloped ahead of them. Most of the torches had been extinguished, with only the two leaders still bearing light. The bags on the pack horses’ backs bounced painfully against their ribs, but they ran gamely on.

  Firestorm pulled on her reins, wanting to catch up with the group ahead of her, but the Scout’s horse was burned out and could not go any faster. Jaik stayed with him, but they fell further and further back.

  Soon, they could hear the strange yapping of the Werewolves behind them and Jaik estimated them to be about five hundred paces away. He knew the speeds Werewolves were capable of, even when ridden by their Vampyre masters, and they had the stamina to match. Jaik made some calculations, estimating their current speed and the distance to Braérn.

  The main group was by now a mile ahead of them and pulling further away by the minute. The group of Vampyres travelled at about the same speed as the group ahead, so they were catching up to him and the Scout rapidly. At this rate and if the horses could stay the distance, chances were good that the main group would reach the outskirts of Braérn, and the safety of its archers, before the Vampyres reached them.

  Jaik glanced at the Scout’s horse. The brave gelding was now bleeding from his nostril, yet still pounded the ground with everything he had to give. It was not enough. Silently, he thanked the animal for his services and asked the Mother to take care of him.

  “Your horse will not make it,” Jaik yelled over at the Scout. “They will catch up with us if we carry on at this speed. Jump over onto my horse and we might stand a chance.”

  The Scout shook his head. “You ride, I will delay them.”

  “I will not leave you to be slaughtered. Come with me.”

  The Scout hesitated for a moment longer, then patted his horse’s neck. He whispered something into his horse’s ear, then let go of the reins and pulled his legs up onto the saddle. He balanced there precariously for a moment, before gathering himself and jumping across to land on Firestorm’s rump.

  Jaik’s mare staggered for a moment as the man found his seat behind Jaik, and then she gathered herself and shot forward. The gelding, looking defeated, fell back, stumbling. He was soon out of sight.

  Jaik concentrated on guiding Firestorm through the darkness ahead of them. He could see little, as the moons above were hidden behind thick clouds. He trusted Firestorm’s instinct to carry them safely and only when the gelding’s terrified scream carried to her did she falter for a moment.

  The horse’s death gave them a few moments advantage, but the Vampyres were not delayed for long. They soon carried on with the chase and, carrying two people, Firestorm had to work hard to stay ahead of them. Sweat soon covered her entire body and her breaths came in ragged gasps.

  Jaik could faintly see the two specs of light ahead in the distance, but could distinctly hear the sounds of their pursuit. Firestorm’s ears pricked backwards every time one of the Werewolves yapped and she never diminished her speed. Jaik estimated how long they had been galloping. Even carrying two people, Firestorm was running at about forty miles per hour. Shadow Hall only bred Midland Swifts, one of the fastest horses on their planet. Their endurance was legendary, but there was still only so much he could ask of his mare.

  He now let her set the pace in her own way. He sat quietly on her back, the Scout clinging to his coat behind him, listening intently to the approaching sounds. She would give her all and the best thing he could do was to let her do it. He tried hard to suppress his fear as the sounds grew louder; the Werewolves paws slapping the earth with great speed; but Firestorm’s own fear drove her on.

  The Scout’s grip became tighter and Jaik knew the man was equally afraid. Jaik had seen what a horde of Werewolves could do to a lone rider and tried to push the thought to the back of his mind.

  Soon, though, all they could hear was the snarling of Werewolves as they caught sight of Firestorm’s heaving flanks in the dark. Then, the first arrow whistled past Jaik’s ear and he knew there was not much more he could do.

  Another arrow flew by, followed by another, which grazed his right shoulder. Firestorm screamed and staggered and, when Jaik looked back, he saw an arrow in her rump.

  His brave mare gathered herself quickly and carried on running, blood now pouring from the wound down her flank. Jaik’s jaw clenched and he gathered his thoughts, concentrating on the loose dirt of the road they were now on.

  Unable to do anything else, Jaik gathered up the loose earth with his Earth magic and twirled it into a whirlwind, hurling it at the creatures now only thirty or so paces behind them. Magic had never been his strong point, but he gave it his all now.

  The Werewolves yapped as the sand stung their eyes, but the Vampyres urged them on through. Jaik kept up the stream of magic for as long as he could, but the arrows kept coming and so did the Werewolves.

  In another few moments all would be lost. Jaik looked ahead and saw the two specs of light of his people mingle with other specs of light. Relief surged through him as he realised that his people would be saved.

  “You can do this, my girl,” he whispered into Firestorm’s ear. “Just a little further. Come on, you can do it.”

  Firestorm’s ears twitched and, miraculously, Jaik felt her try even harder.

  “Take my sword,” he shouted at the Scout, who pulled the blade from the sheath immediately.

  Another arrow found its mark, high on Jaik’s left arm, and he ground his teeth against the agony. The thundering of Firestorm’s hooves pained the injury with every step she took, but if she could run with an arrow stuck in her rump, he could surely endure an arrow stuck in his arm.

  Jaik felt movement behind him and, out of the corner of his eye, saw the Scout swing his sword at the Werewolf running at Firestorm’s heels. The scout swung again, this time connecting with the creature and the Werewolf howled and fell back.

  Another immediately took its place and Jaik noticed that the Vampyres had also drawn their weapons. Only two of them had bows and it seemed as if they were now out of arrows. It was a small mercy, but in the end it would not matter much. They were now hurtling down the path almost side by side and only the Scout’s efforts with Jaik’s sword kept them from killing them immediately.


  Jaik knew then his time was up. There was nothing else he could do. He tried one last time to summon his Earth magic, but here the path had almost no loose dirt and it was a feeble effort.

  “Come on,” he yelled at Firestorm one last time, just as a Werewolf leapt up to jump onto her back.

  The Scout could not turn in time to swing the blade and Jaik closed his eyes, knowing they had lost. Then, the anguished yelp of the Werewolf made him snap his eyes open

  Left and right, the road was lined with archers as they galloped past. One by one, the archers took out the Vampyres and their hounds and soon Firestorm left the sounds of their dying behind her and galloped, utterly exhausted, into the midst of the waiting crowd at the gate of Braérn.

  “Aaron? Are you sure?” Blaid asked.

  “Yes, it is definitely him. He is with a Regiment and that looks like Rothea riding beside him.”

  “Midnight, how much time do we have before we are seen?” Blaid asked the dragon.

  In reply, Midnight uttered an angry growl and let them know that the riders had probably seen him fly over the forest, which was why they were now heading their way with such haste.

  “Then let us hope you are wrong. Aaron riding with a Regiment at his back can only mean one thing. My father has sent him to search for me. We must avoid them. We can come back for my supplies later.”

  “If we fly with Midnight, they will see him and they will follow. It would be our quickest way out of here, but also means they will have a direction where to search for you. We could fly over the dark forest towards the west and hope they think we are heading for Tarron Heights. Do you mind taking the risk of them riding through the dark forest?”

  Maia thought for a moment. She did not want them to know where she was at all, but if they had seen Midnight already, they knew she was here too. They could fly over the dark forest towards Tarron Heights. It would take them a few hours, as there were no places in the forest for Midnight to land, but it would get the riders off their backs for now. She wondered if Blaid had the strength for such a long flight.