Luthiel's Song: Dreams of the Ringed Vale

by Robert Marston Fannéy

  Luthiel undid the strings to her pouch, pulled the Stone out and held it before her. “Tell me the words again?” she asked.

  “Nin Alhandra,” Mithorden whispered.

  “Nin Alhandra,” Luthiel repeated. At first, there was no obvious change in her Stone. But then, the light within it flickered and went out.

  “Now sing your name, but very softly.”

  Luthiel nodded and sang. Suddenly, her Stone erupted with brilliance and she felt her body go cool. Everything in the room wavered. Mithorden seemed to be cloaked in white fire and a light like a star shone at his brow.

  “Stop singing,” he said.

  In sudden horror, Luthiel realized she’d entered the world of dreams. She concentrated on stopping her voice. Again she had to struggle, but this time it was easier and she made it on the second try.

  “That was better than the last time. But it was still rather loud. You need to learn to be gentler. It will come with practice. Let’s hope it’s sooner rather than later.”

  Luthiel was gasping, trying to calm down. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it. You looked different, splendid and shining.”

  Mithorden laughed. “Thank you. Now try it again.”

  Luthiel took a deep breath and nodded.

  After about four times, she’d gotten it somewhat under control and managed to only drift into the dreaming world for a second.

  “Good,” Mithorden said. “You’re learning fast. But remember that you can’t close the Stone while you’re in the world of dreams.”

  “I’ll remember,” Luthiel said. “What else were you going to tell me about the Vale of Mists?”

  “Ah yes, the mists of the Vale can change you. But if you use the Stone just as you feel your body starting to change it will remove the Mists’ hold over you for a time. You must be certain to use the Stone as soon as you feel it happen. Some have described a feeling like worms beneath the flesh—which is not far off. When you feel this, sing to the Stone, you only need to sing for an instant. Understand?”

  Luthiel nodded her head.

  “It is probably best to keep the Stone closed once you enter the Vale of Mists. The Vyrl are matchless hunters and it is possible that they could come upon you unawares. If you use it to fend off the mists, make certain you close it immediately after.”

  “Thank you Mithorden,” she said sincerely as she tied the strings to her pouch. “I feel like I have a better chance now.”

  “I’m not finished. You should listen to my directions. The Vale is not a good place to be lost and the Vyrl are, by nature, reclusive hunters. By day, they roam the wilds of the Vale but by night they gather in their castle—Ottomnos—on the northwest side of the Miruvoir. If you enter the Vale, you can reach them by following the lakeshore. It is said that there is a ring of standing stones on the far shore. There you may find them come sunset. Do not stray from the lakeshore. The mists are treacherous and you will become hopelessly lost.”

  “How do I find the lake?” Luthiel asked, not liking all this talk of the Vale.

  “The Rendalas spills directly into it. Once you climb down the stairs you will see it.” Mithorden watched her for a few moments more then pulled something from beneath his robe and laid it before her. “Here is an old map of the Vale. It may help you somewhat. But remember, the mists are thick. It is unlikely you will see the land around you much less the hand in front of your face.”

  Luthiel felt grateful. She’d had a good meal and the sorcerer was doing the best he could to help. She stood up and gave him a big hug. “Thank you!” she said.

  Mithorden, taken off balance, let out a guffaw. “There, there,” he said, patting her on the back and then holding her out at arms length. “You are welcome!

  “Now that that’s finished, I have a few questions of my own.” He stroked his beard with the tips of his fingers. “You see, your song surprised me. It has been long since I have heard the rumor of Methar Anduel in the world. So I made a point to journey to Flir Light as soon as possible to meet you and help you. But then, just this afternoon, I saw you running along the banks of the River Rendalas. By the presence of the Stone, it was plain to me who you were and by your path, there could be no question where you were headed. There is nothing in the lands beyond Lenidras but the Vale of Mists. But it is clear that you are determined to make the journey. What do you hope to accomplish there?”

  Luthiel pursed her lips, wondering if she could tell him the truth. But what else could she say? No one went to the Vale by choice.

  “I—I decided to go in place of my sister,” she croaked.

  Mithorden raised his eyebrows. “Indeed?” He leaned back in his chair, stared at the ceiling and sighed. “What you are doing is bold and selfless and therefore something to be admired. It is also exceptionally dangerous, not to mention against the law.”

  “But you don’t understand. I am only an orphan. Leowin is a part of a family. She has so much more to lose than I.”

  “Does she? Are you not also a part of that family? Do you love life less than her? Or is your life of less importance simply because you are an orphan?”

  Luthiel looked away. She didn’t want to say it, but she felt that her life wasn’t worth as much as most.

  Somebody didn’t want me, she thought. I was just a castaway.

  “Even if I weren’t, I couldn’t bear to lose her. Please don’t try to stop me; I don’t want the Werewolf to take her away. You don’t understand, the thought of her dead, and–” she stopped abruptly not certain if she should continue.

  “And?” Mithorden asked.

  “A Blade Dancer told me he thought if anyone could make it back alive, then it would be me.”

  Mithorden’s eyebrows lowered and his face became very serious. “A Blade Dancer? Which Blade Dancer? I know many of them and this is highly out of character. They have strict instructions.”

  “It was Vanye.”

  “Vanye, now that doesn’t surprise me as much. He’s been known to, ah, shall we say, bend the rules from time to time.”

  “Please, don’t make me go home. Don’t make me go back and see Leowin taken.”

  “I understand the tradition for what it is—a tribute, a bribe in exchange for peace with the Vyrl. It is something I have never been able to accept. The Vyrl have always taken advantage, killed where they were supposed to protect. Don’t worry, I am not going to hold you for the benefit of an unjust law. I was only curious. You are a rare person, Luthiel. You should value yourself more than you do. I wish I knew ten more like you.”

  Luthiel didn’t know what to say so she only nodded at the compliment.

  “So how did you and Leowin come to possess this Wyrd Stone?” he asked.

  Again she paused, wondering if she could tell him the truth. “I already told you,” she said finally. “My sister gave it to me.”

  “Yes, yes, but where did she find it? How did she learn how to sing a name-song? And how did she know that you had the gift? She couldn’t be much older than you, how did she come to know so much?”

  Luthiel again chose her words carefully. “My sister has always wanted to be a Secret Finder. She’s been collecting secrets ever since I can remember and she’s only a year older than me. She said the Stone was with me when I came to Flir Light and that my foster parents had kept it ever since. I didn’t know about it, but she did. So one day, she took it from them and gave it to me as a present on First Summer’s eve.” It wasn’t entirely true, but she didn’t want to tell him about Elag.

  The sorcerer’s eyes twinkled as he listened. “This is very interesting. And you have no idea who your real parents are or where you came from?”

  “There was a note with me. It was short, giving only my first name and asking the people of Flir Light to care for me. It was signed simply with one initial M.”

  At the mention of the initial Mithorden’s eyebrows raised. “Indeed? Well, this is most unexpected.”

  “What do you mean? Do you know my pa
rents?”

  “Well, I may. I don’t know.” He stared off into space but his eyes held a knowing gleam.

  Luthiel’s heart pounded in her throat. “If you know anything at all, please tell me.”

  “Luthiel, I can guess, but that doesn’t do you any good does it? No, I’d like to be certain before I tell you anything that might give you false hope.”

  “I would like for you to tell me now. You won’t have the opportunity later.”

  Mithorden grinned at her and patted her on the shoulder. “I think I will. There’s a strength in you that even you don’t see. Vanye saw it, and so did Leowin. But such strength shouldn’t be squandered! It has been a long night full of dark and heavy talk and you have a very hard road before you. I strongly suggest that you rest now, Luthiel. Try not to worry so much about your past. I promise you, I will help you as best as I am able.” With that, he stood and helped her out of her chair.

  A Night Terror

  Together, they walked out of the great hall and into the wing toward her room.

  She suddenly felt very tired and thought of the nice comfortable bed in her room. It was late and she wasn’t going to make it any further this night. There was little point in leaving now. As she walked, she thought about her family, wondering.

  “Mithorden, I’m sorry if I pressed you. I just thought that you, out of anyone, might know something about my real family.”

  The sorcerer laughed. “Ah Luthiel, it would be so much easier if I knew only half of what people expected me to know.”

  “It must be hard having all that expectation piled on you. How do you manage?”

  “I carry on in my own way. Often, it is despite what is expected of me.” He smiled at her and winked. “It helps, sometimes, to have a few friends with you along the way. Ah here we are.” They had arrived at her room.

  “Sleep sound. I will meet you in the early morning for a brief breakfast and to see you off.”

  “Good night,” she said. But before she turned to her room she suddenly felt afraid. All the things they had spoken of returned to haunt her and she didn’t want to be left alone with her fears. “Um Mithorden?”

  “Yes?”

  “This place is well guarded?”

  “Do not worry, there are protections here you cannot see but they are as strong as any. You are safe; you may rest easy.”

  She felt embarrassed for her fear. “Thank you, good night,” she said

  “Good night, Luthiel,” he replied and then he disappeared down the hall.

  She hadn’t laid her head on the pillow for a minute before she was deeply and contentedly asleep.

  But her sleep was disturbed. Late in the night, she heard a clicking at her window. The sound was sharp and she awoke with a start. Huddled in her covers, she peered out through the window. There, she thought she saw a shadowy mass and at its center were two ichorous green lights. She stared at it for a few seconds and then she could hear the loud baying of Fen-hounds. The lights seemed to slowly fade into the shadows and then they were gone. Outside her window, she could hear the snuffling of dogs.

  For a time, she lay awake terrified of the apparition she had seen.

  What was it?

  She wondered and her mind danced with the terrors Mithorden had described. She kept staring into the shadows at the corners of her room, expecting them to come crawling up to her. Finally, she pulled the covers over her head, undid the strings to the pouch around her neck and let her Stone roll out into her hand. Its soft light comforted her and soon she was fast asleep with it clutched in her hand.

  She awoke in the early morning to the sound of Warlin rapping at her door.

  “Luthiel! Luthiel! Wake up Luthiel!”

  “Stop yelling, I’m awake,” Luthiel said groggily, wiping the sleep from her eyes. She slid from her bed, walked over to the door and opened it a crack.

  “Yes?” she said.

  Warlin was still wearing his night-cap, red robe and slippers.

  “Mithorden sent for you. He is waiting in the great hall with breakfast.”

  Luthiel nodded. “Tell him I’ll be there in a moment,” she said.

  The goblin bowed as she closed the door and noticed that her things had been repacked and a clean set of her traveling clothes were draped over the chair by her bed.

  “Now that’s nice,” she said. “Must have done it last night while I was talking to the sorcerer.” She slipped her clothes on, grabbed her pack and set out into the hall. As she walked, she remembered her vision of the night before and decided she’d probably had a nightmare. After all the things the sorcerer told her it was a wonder she didn’t have bad dreams all night long.

  When she entered the great hall, she noticed that Soelee was rising amidst an explosion of red and orange. It looked like a volcanic eruption. She slowed down to stare. She’d never seen such a sunrise.

  “Doesn’t bode well for the weather, does it?” Mithorden said from across the hall. He was the only one sitting at the table. There were a couple plates of leftovers from the night before on the table and he held a pitcher of some kind of red juice in his hand. “Come, have some breakfast. It’s best you get off to an early start if you’re to have any hope of beating the storm,” he said.

  She walked over to the table and sat down across from him, grabbing some fruit, a pastry and a wedge of cheese.

  “How did you sleep?” the sorcerer asked.

  “Good, considering all you told me last night. I only had one nightmare.”

  “Well, we won’t mar the day with talk of nightmares!” he said washing down a mouthful of pastry with a gulp of the juice. “You should have a drink, excellent stuff, made from the berries in our own orchards. Makes even better wine. But the juice is a nice way to start the morning.” He poured her a glass and she took a drink.

  It was smooth and sweet with a hint blossoms and honey. The sorcerer was right, it was delicious.

  “Mmmm. Thank you,” she said.

  Too soon, breakfast was finished. Her insides felt raw with anticipation of the day. Slowly, she gathered her things.

  Mithorden watched her and when she was done, he stood.

  “Come, I’ll walk you down to the river,” he said.

  “Thanks, I’d like that,” she replied.

  They walked down the stairs in silence. When they reached the bottom, Mithorden turned to her.

  “I have a final word of caution for you. These past few nights, our huntress has chased Widdershae off the grounds. It would seem, large numbers of them moved into the lands around the Vale of Mists sometime within the past few weeks.”

  Luthiel felt her stomach clench. “Maybe it wasn’t a nightmare,” she whispered.

  “What did you say?”

  “I thought I dreamed it. Last night, I saw something at my window. It was too dark to make out. It seemed darker than the rest of the night. Like a pile of black clothes in the corner of a dark room. But I could see two green lights like eyes peering through the glass. The hounds seemed to scare it off and I didn’t see it again.”

  “You’ve seen them then, good.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “You would probably see them sooner or later. It is better that you weren’t surprised on the road. They’ve laid snares along all the paths that lead to or from the Vale. For some reason, it appears they don’t want anything entering or leaving. You must be very careful. Widdershae are vicious predators.”

  “What has made them come here?”

  “I would like to know! But for you, the why doesn’t matter. I would suggest that you stay a little bit away from the river and out of the open. You may want to pick your way carefully and not run blindly onward. There is the matter of their webs.”

  “Spider webs?” Luthiel’s skin crawled. The thing she saw last night was big—probably three times her size.

  “Not normal webs! These webs are spun out of shadow. They are very clever, looking like masses of shade cast by tree branches or outcr
oppings. If you are careful, you can find them because they don’t move with the suns like regular shadows. Worse, these webs stretch into the world of dreams. They will bind you there sure as they do in this world. If you see one it is best to circle around it. If you pass underneath, you will almost certainly be spied by the Widdershae that made it.”

  Luthiel felt sick. “I’ll be careful,” she said. She stood there for a moment longer staring down the river toward the Vale of Mists. Overhead, the sky was the color of paste.

  “This stretch is very dangerous. I would not suggest resting until you reach the Vale. Once there, you may use the Stone as I taught you.” Then he put his hand on her shoulder. “Here,” he traced his finger on her forehead. “Ethelos,” he chanted.

  “What was that for?” she asked.

  “Good fortune. You will need it!”

  He looked up into the sky. The unease in his eyes made Luthiel tremble.

  “I little like this weather. It rises on an ill wind,” he said, then turned back to her. “Have a care, Luthiel, and remember what I told you. It could save your life.”

  He stood there for a moment, watching her.

  Her feet never felt heavier. Lenidras had provided her with more comfort than she cared to admit—making it all the more difficult to leave.

  “You’d best set out now,” the sorcerer said.

  “Farewell, Mithorden,” she replied as steadily as she was able. “Thank you for all that you’ve done. I hope it is enough to get me through.”

  He gave her shoulder a squeeze.

  “As do I,” he said, then turned to walk up the stairs. He stopped at the last step to give a final wave and then stepped back through the red doors.

  Spiders and Werewolves