To Light a Candle

by Mercedes Lackey

  With a strangled cry of desperation Kellen began to run. He had to try to reach her. No matter what, he had to try!

  And oblivious to it all, Idalia continued to walk forward, caught in a spell she could not break—

  Suddenly half-a-dozen furry white, softly-glowing spiders dropped from above, directly onto the black squatting creature. It closed its mouth with a startled snap, and the calling Kellen had been following stopped abruptly.

  The spiders were the size of young lambs, and swarmed nimbly and quickly over the creature’s body as it writhed and batted uselessly at them. Silently it battled the swarming arachnids, frantically attempting to catch them, but they flowed away over the cavern floor as quickly as they’d arrived.

  It was no more than a momentary distraction, but it gave Kellen the time he needed. Idalia had stopped moving forward, and began groping for her tarnkappa, shaking her head as if she’d been roused from sleep. As Kellen passed her, he shoved her hard, knocking her sprawling, his mind already full of what he must do.

  He reached the creature and struck unhesitatingly, taking its head from its shoulders in one clean blow. It was not like cutting into a man or a coldwarg—or even a goblin. Beneath the skin, the creature’s flesh seemed almost jellylike, and Kellen’s blow did not meet the resistance of bone. He leaped back, and just in time. Its flesh began to melt away as soon as its head rolled free of its body, dissolving like wax plunged into a furnace, filling the cavern with the sick-sweet scent of decay and something worse.

  Kellen looked down at his sword, wondering if it would ever be clean again, and saw to his horror that the metal was black and flaking where it had entered the monster’s body. With a sinking feeling, he set the tip of the blade against the stone floor and pressed gently. The sword bent, then snapped like rotting wood.

  Kellen winced. Not the worst thing that could happen, but high on the list. He wasn’t helpless with only a dagger and half a sword, but he wasn’t happy about the situation.

  He turned back to where he’d left Idalia. Time for them to get out of here.

  Her body was covered in spiders.

  Their bodies weren’t just glowing whitely now, they were pulsing in pale colors: green, purple, yellow, pink. And Idalia wasn’t moving.

  SUDDENLY it was dark—the blinding darkness of the caves—and Idalia knew something was terribly wrong. The last thing she remembered clearly was the cavern, the deserted Shadowed Elf village, and then … it was almost as if she’d been asleep.

  She groped for her tarnkappa, but before she could pull it free, a savage blow from out of nowhere knocked her sprawling. She hit the stone floor of the cave hard, and in the utter silence could hear nothing but the faint sound of the cave’s “breath” and the pounding of her own heart in her ears.

  Then she felt fingers plucking at her clothes.

  No.

  Not fingers.

  Legs.

  : Do not fear us. We are friends.:

  A voice spoke in her head. More than a voice. Pictures—images—memories. She pulled off a glove and reached out hesitantly. She touched stiff silky bristles.

  : Good. Easier.:

  Who are you? Idalia thought back.

  She could see them—and herself—a strange disjointed picture, relayed by multiple eyes. Spiders. But like no spiders ever seen in the outside world. And with that picture came something she had not expected. Peace—warmth. Welcome, the welcome of one ally recognizing another, one creature of the Light (though these spiders spent their lives in the darkness of the caves) acknowledging one of like spirit. Strange as it seemed, and as repugnant as most humans found spiders to be, these were friends. She relaxed, and opened her mind a little further.

  : We are Crystal,: came the reply. :This is our home, and it has been ravaged by the Black Minds. Those you call Shadowed Elves come, and take our webs, our eggs, our children.:

  She felt their anger at the pillaging. The Shadowed Elves ate the Crystal Spiders, and used the silk from their webs and cocoons for their own purposes. Idalia felt a flash of alarm, purely her own this time. If the Shadowed Elves were here in the caverns, and triggered any of their traps—

  : They are not here now. For—long—they have made the traps. And brought the others to lure you in. Then they left.:

  “Idalia?” A voice, with an edge of panic to it. “Idalia, can you hear me?”

  Kellen. Alarmed. Sounding not-quite-certain the Crystal Spiders were a threat, but ready to believe they were.

  “It’s all right. I’m all right, truly, there’s nothing to worry about. They’re friends, allies, a People of the Light. They’re talking to me,” Idalia said, trying to concentrate on the spiders and Kellen at the same time. “That’s why they’re sitting on me, I think it’s the only way they can speak to my mind.” She turned her thoughts back to these new allies. Go on. Tell me more. None of the Shadowed Elves are here?

  : Gone. All gone to their other place. It is not far. We are there too, and we know. Other Black Minds, like the one who Called you, are there as well. Beware, for the Black Minds do not need eyes to see. That which is invisible is visible to them.:

  The Crystal Spider sent a blurred picture into Idalia’s mind, and she shuddered. A duergar. They were cousins to the ice-trolls but could not bear even as much light as their cousins. They lived in the deepest caves, and lured prey to them with their mental powers.

  And they were utterly blind, so a tarnkappa would not conceal its wearer from them.

  “What are they saying?” Kellen demanded, still sounding unconvinced. Well, she couldn’t blame him—here she was, covered in spiders, after being lured down here by a duergar!

  “They live here. It really is all right, Kellen,” she replied, making her voice sound reassuring. “They’re friendly, honestly—didn’t you see how they distracted the duergar so it lost control of me for a moment?” She had seen that in their minds as well. “They don’t like the Shadowed Elves, and they see us as their allies. They told me that the Shadowed Elves set up the traps in these caves—and called in some other Black Minds, they say, then left.”

  “Yeah,” Kellen said with a sigh. “I’ve already met some of the other ‘Black Minds’—a pack of goblins. But what was that thing that was after you?”

  “Duergar,” Idalia said briefly. “They lure prey with their minds. Tarnkappa don’t work against them, because they can’t see.”

  “Oh.” Kellen sounded slightly chastened. There was a pause. “We need to set off all those other traps. And I think if we do, this whole cave might collapse. The roof of the village cavern is set to come down, but I couldn’t see the trip-wire for it, or any other way of triggering it.”

  Do you understand? Idalia thought to the spiders. I don’t want any of you to be hurt. But this place is too dangerous to leave as it is.

  : We understand,: the Crystal Spiders “said”—they seemed to speak as one, or perhaps all of them together made up one mind. : Wait … : There was a long pause, and Idalia sensed that the spiders were consulting among themselves and picking through her surface thoughts, trying to find a concept they would all understand. : Wait a day before you make the caverns safe, and we will not be harmed. And when next you hunt the Shadowed Elves, we will give you what help we can.:

  “I promise we will wait,” Idalia said aloud. “And I thank you for your help.”

  There was a wave of movement, and the shining carpet of enormous spiders that had covered her scuttled away. Idalia sat up, watching as the balls of glowing pastel light disappeared into the darkness, actually seeing them for the first time.

  “Why—they’re beautiful,” she said aloud, in surprise. “Poor things—never harming anything but insects, suddenly finding themselves hunted by Shadowed Elves—”

  “I guess we’re not the only ones the Shadowed Elves are hurting,” Kellen said quietly.

  “They’re hurting everything that lives,” Idalia said grimly. “That’s what they were designed to do. Hurt thing
s.”

  “Why?” Kellen asked plaintively, and suddenly he sounded very young and fragile. “Why would they want to do that? It doesn’t sound like any kind of life. What possible kind of existence is that for anything?”

  “Kellen,” Idalia said, her voice suddenly sharp with fear. “You said you were attacked by goblins. Did any of them bite you?”

  “Of course not,” Kellen said indignantly, but there was a dreamy undertone to his voice that Idalia didn’t like. “Some of them chewed on my armor a lot, though. I couldn’t help that.”

  “No, of course you couldn’t. Come here and let me see.”

  She cupped her hands and concentrated. A faint mist began to coalesce between her palms, growing denser and brighter until it burned chill and blue. She gestures, and the ball of Coldfire rose to hover above her head.

  In its light she could see Kellen standing a few feet away. His tarnkappa was hanging from one hand, his sword—half his sword—was hanging from the other. She got to her feet, retrieving her discarded glove in the process, and walked over to him.

  She leaned over and sniffed. His armor reeked of goblin venom, but it seemed to be in one piece. If any of them had spit in his face, he wouldn’t be standing here debating the nature of Evil, Knight-Mage or no. He’d be goblin dinner.

  But if any of it had gotten through the joins in the armor and soaked into the padding, and through the padding … .

  “I think I might have been poisoned after all, Idalia,” Kellen said somberly, and with a slight slurring in his voice. “I don’t feel—quite right.”

  “I think so, too,” Idalia said. “But not badly. You’ll just be a little … drunk. And Shalkan can fix that once we’re out of here.” She hoped. A unicorn could cleanse a poisoned wound, but how could Shalkan reach the poison that had soaked into Kellen’s skin?

  Kellen laughed bitterly. “Can you get out of here without me?” He began removing his armor. “Without triggering any of the traps we passed on the way in? Can I keep from triggering them?” He set the last of his armor aside. The damp blotches of poison were visible now on the legs and thighs of his leather underpadding. Kellen began to remove it as well. “Because if not, you’ve got to heal me now, or we’ve got to figure out something else that will work. And if we can’t, we’ve failed. And the army is going to die.”

  Where the goblin poison had reached his skin through the underpadding, there were raised red welts. Kellen rubbed at them absently, shivering in the cold of the cave. He was wearing nothing but a hip-wrap now, but at least it was untouched by goblin poison.

  He was right, Idalia realized.

  She had no idea where she was in the caves now. She was sure Kellen could lead her back to the village cavern, even in this condition, but even though they’d marked them carefully on the way in, Idalia wasn’t completely certain of her ability to navigate past all the traps on the way out without a Knight-Mage’s battle-sight to point them out. And Kellen might not be able to do it at all if the poison fogged his mind any more deeply.

  And if she did leave him and make the try, and succeeded, then she’d have to come back in and try to get him out later, when he was in even worse shape from the slow working of the poison he’d absorbed—because Shalkan couldn’t get in here at all. Though he might possibly manage to throw off the effects of the poison by himself eventually, it was a gamble she didn’t want to take, and they couldn’t afford to wait.

  And leaving him here, alone, sick, without sword or armor—well, she doubted she’d have a brother to come back to, considering what else the Crystal Spiders said was prowling around down here.

  But if she did heal him, there was no one here to take any of the physical price, even if her Mageprices seemed to have all been paid in advance. The effort would leave her exhausted. And navigating the labyrinth of traps took a huge amount of physical stamina. She wouldn’t be able to do it after doing a healing. And Kellen wouldn’t be able to do it carrying her.

  But there was one thing she could try.

  Idalia began to rummage through her possibles bag.

  “Here are the choices as I know them,” she said. “If I leave you and go for help and to warn Redhelwar, I might be able to get out by myself, but I don’t guarantee it. Meanwhile you get sicker, and I—or someone—still have to come back in and get you out. Or I can heal you here, after which you’ll probably have to carry me out, and I don’t think that will work either.”

  Kellen laughed giddily, caught himself, and shook his head.

  “Or you can drink this,” she said, having found the phial she’d been looking for. “It’s not a healing. It’s not really a medicine. It’s a cheat. It convinces your body it’s well—for a little while—no matter how badly you’ve been hurt—or poisoned. But when it wears off, what it’s done to you has to be paid for with a true healing, or a lot of rest, or both.”

  “Why would you make a bad thing like that?” Kellen asked, sounding less than half his age. He rubbed at his head, as if it hurt, dropping the tarnkappa to the cavern floor.

  “Sometimes a man needs to be able to walk off a battlefield with two broken legs,” Idalia said. “This will let him do it. But he pays for it afterward.”

  Her brother suddenly shook himself, all over, like a dog shaking himself dry. “Gods of Leaf and Star!” Kellen swore, sounding like himself for just a moment, “if you told me it would kill me in a day, I’d still take it. Give it to me, before I get too stupid to know how to drink.”

  Idalia placed the thumb-sized glass phial in his hand, blessing the impulse that had caused her to bring it with her when she’d packed for the journey.

  Kellen broke the seal and quickly tossed it back, shuddering and gagging at the taste.

  Twenty

  The Order of Battle

  Why did all of Idalia’s herbal medicines seem to be made of the bitterest herbs she could find? The taste made his eyes water and his teeth ache, and Kellen swallowed hard, resisting the impulse to retch.

  But the disconnected floating feeling that he’d been fighting off ever since he’d killed the duergar was gone. He was himself again. He took several deep breaths.

  “I feel better,” he said.

  “You won’t in half a day,” Idalia warned.

  In half a day the Elven army would have been warned about this trap. At the moment, that was all that mattered.

  Kellen inspected the pile of discarded armor and garments. The sheen of goblin poison glowed sickly green to his battle-sight in far too many places. He picked up his heavy fur cloak, inspecting it carefully—it was clean—and put it on, then looked at his armor regretfully.

  “There’s no way to carry it safely, and half of it’s covered with goblin spit. I’ll miss it.” He picked up his dagger and his broken sword. “Come on.”

  “First let’s do something about your feet,” Idalia said, taking out her dagger and beginning to cut her tarnkappa into strips. “It won’t be much, but it’s better than having you try to walk out of here barefoot.”

  THE return trip seemed to go far more swiftly than the trip in. Idalia’s Potion of False Healing filled him with energy, so that Kellen had to be careful to adjust his pace to hers. He felt as if he could run all the way.

  But making their way back through the traps was still a painstaking process, one that required the most exacting concentration. Kellen breathed a sigh of relief when he and Idalia stepped over the last of the trip wires.

  Idalia hugged him tightly.

  “I never, never, never want to go down there again,” she said fervently.

  “Neither do I,” Kellen said. Now that it was over, he could acknowledge the fear—and more, the disgust—he’d felt every moment he’d been down in the Shadowed Elf caverns. There was something horribly unclean about those traps. Compared to them, the goblins and even the duergar had been wholesome.

  “I’ll cut up the blanket I left with Cella to make you a pair of leggings,” Idalia said, “but I’m afraid you’re g
oing to have a cold ride back.”

  “At least it should be day when we get out,” Kellen said. “I just hope it isn’t snowing too hard.”

  They reached the entrance of the cave.

  It was dusk. They’d been underground a full day. But sunset wasn’t the only thing that greeted them.

  Spread out across the valley, starting a bowshot’s-lenght from the cavern and running all the way to the stream and beyond, was a third of the Elven army.

  They sat on their destriers like statues, as if they had been waiting there for centuries, and were prepared to wait for centuries more. A light snow was falling, and from the way it had collected on their cloaks and armor, they had indeed been waiting here for some time. The only movement was the flutter of the war banners on the wind, and the occasional shake of a destrier’s head.

  Facing the army was Shalkan, standing firm right in the mouth of the cavern. His horn glowed deep scarlet, and every inch of fur not covered by his armor was fluffed straight out.

  “It looks like they got here early,” Idalia said noncommittally.

  Kellen looked out over the assembled host. With a sinking heart, he saw not only Adaerion’s banner, but Belepheriel’s and Redhelwar’s as well.

  Ninolion had been wrong. The general had been able to make his dispositions in less than a day. Or else, finding Kellen gone, he’d put everything else aside to bring a force to the nearer cavern.

  And now Shalkan was holding them off.

  “GOOD to see you,” Shalkan said, not moving, as Kellen and Idalia walked slowly up to stand with him.

  “I was right,” Kellen said. “The whole cavern’s been turned into one enormous death trap.”

  “You might want to let Redhelwar know,” Shalkan replied, as outwardly calm as if Kellen had just remarked on the depth of the snow. “Ah, here he comes now.”

  The general rode into the first rank of the assembled Knights, but came no closer. Considering the way Shalkan looked, he probably didn’t dare.