by Meg Cowley
~
It was a few days before she could chance a meeting with Luke again. Eve's head reeled from days of meetings with this important person and that to discuss everything from landholdings and winter fodder for the animals to the town's defence plan, and she was relieved to sneak away to the isolation of the wall to stand guard with him for a while.
Luke's position within the town guard had been restored despite his absence, though he was on light duties whilst he recovered, and stationed at the far end of the wall as far away from trouble as there could be. His fingers remained bandaged under his mitts.
"My lady," he said gruffly as she approached.
She laughed. "My lady? Really?"
His face was tucked deep inside the fur lined hat. He glanced furtively around them. "I didn't know if anyone would be listening."
“They're not." She laughed and tucked her arm into his. "Walk with me." Obediently, he strolled alongside her to the most secluded end of the wall, where it met the soaring crags of the March Mountain foothills. They settled upon the battlements companionably, shielded from the wind by the crenellations, which was a relief. Her cheeks and nose were rosy with the sting of it, and she huddled closer into her fur-lined collar.
“How’s your mother?” Eve asked.
Luke’s eyes crinkled as he smiled. “She’s doing well. In frail health, you understand, but you know what she’s like: as fiery and independent as ever. She’s glad I’m back, and I am, too. I don’t know if she could manage without me looking after her.”
“It must be hard at the cottage—you said the roof was leaking?”
Luke scowled. “I can’t fix that blasted hole, no matter how hard I try. The water always finds a way back in.”
“Well, I have a suggestion. You and Nora should move to the keep. Your mother will be well cared for—warm and fed—through the winter, and looked after whilst you work. You won’t have to worry about her.”
“And me?” Luke turned to look at her, his eyes shaded under long, brown lashes, and his expression was inscrutable.
“You can stay with her. I’ll make sure you have adjoining quarters, and you can dine with the staff. It’ll be much nicer for you both. We have plumbing for hot water, which I’m sure will be much more pleasant for your mother.”
“And we would be closer,” Luke added.
“I suppose so.” She shot him a sidelong glance and a half-smile.
He grinned back and tucked her under his arm. Suddenly, she felt warmer than should have been possible on such a cold day.
Her contentment faded minutes later when he enquired after her father. She talked of his illness, though Luke had heard most of the gossip on the wind through his fellow guards.
“Has he… Has he mentioned your future prospects?” he asked with some trepidation. “Marriage?” he added when she looked at him with a blank face.
She scowled and her jaw set firm. “No,” she replied, with a steely glint in her eye. “He has not. And it matters not. Dane is dead, and I consider my betrothal ended. Father is too ill to think of it, thank the heavens, but I will tell him when he’s well enough I have decided my own fate. I won’t marry unless I choose my own suitor.” The fire melted from her. “I won’t be forced to marry someone I do not choose.” Her voice was subdued. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t strong enough to choose you, and I was so silly for not realising I wanted to until it was too late.” Tears pricked her eyes and she struggled to fight them back.
Luke pulled her closer and stroked her arm in reassurance.
“I’m sorry for not coming back for you. I feel like I failed you.” The tears fell now and she could not stop them.
“Oh, Eve.” Luke wiped her tears away with his mitt, and his lips warmed her frozen forehead with his kiss. “I know you would have returned were it possible. Please, don’t berate yourself. Look, here we both are now. Home, safe, and where we belong: together. Now, we have a chance to start over, if you want to take it?”
“You mean for us?”
“Yes.”
“To court?”
“Yes.” His determined expression made her smile.
“I’d like that.”
His grin spoke volumes as he lifted her chin with his mitt. His firm, warm kiss made her heart leap and was full of the promise of a better future.
~
Luke and Nora relocated to the keep within days, much to Nora’s excitement. Luke watched his mother with quiet contentment as she sat next to an open fire, warm and dry for the first time in months. Life there suited her, though she would not accept charity and had taken to offering her services and experience as a seamstress.
Luke was content; he could leave her and go about his business without fear for her health here, and it brought him closer to Eve, which he could not deny lifted his heart more than he cared to admit. Each time they passed in the corridor and shared a touch of fingers, or just a glance and a smile, the frisson excited him, but it was not enough.
“When will you tell your father about our courting?” he asked when they met again, this time in a dusty storeroom in the cellars. It was not the first time he had asked; she had already brushed the question off once. His lips pursed as he recalled the sting of feeling like he wasn’t good enough. Will it always be this way?
Eve leaned up to kiss him again, and he could not resist as her lips were the sweetest thing, but, after a few seconds, he pulled back and asked again. She bit her lip. “I dare not in his current state. He is so frail.”
“But what of us?” Luke asked indignantly. “Is this all we are?” He gestured around them. “Dust, cobwebs, and shadows? Skulking and chance meetings in the darkness? Snatched moments here and there? Neither moving forward nor backwards? I know I cannot raise a house for you, yet, but I ought to make my intentions clear to your father, at least, and before that, you need to.”
“I… I thought this would be best for now,” Eve stammered. “Is it not good enough for now that we live under one roof? We can easily meet, with both of our parents confined to their chambers. We’ve never spent so much time together. Don’t you enjoy that?”
“Of course,” Luke replied gruffly. “But we hide it from them and everyone else! It’s like you’re ashamed of me—of us.” His eyes bored into Eve, and she squirmed in his gaze.
“No! I never would be! I just don’t know how to tell my father just yet. His condition worsens if anything. He does not recover. I worry about upsetting him further—”
“Why, because I’m not some grand lord?” Luke’s tone was scathing.
“Yes!” Eve raised her voice, exasperated. “I’ve made my choice and I stand by it—I stand by you—but there’s a time and a place to tell him. You have seen his current state. It is not now, and it is not yet.”
“Is it ever going to be the right time for us to come out of the shadows?” Luke scoffed in disgust, and his lip curled in a grimace. He stood, quiescent for a long moment, and his anger softened, but the wall of disappointment that replaced it was even worse to see. It was clear he searched for an answer, but she had none to give.
“I…” Eve faltered, unsure how to voice her thoughts. It’s not about you! No… It’s not you? You are enough? No—argh!
He shook his head, turned, and walked away without another word.
“Luke!” she called after him, but he was gone. She swallowed. Guilt stabbed at her again. We finally had a chance to be together—even in secret—and I spoiled it. The disappointment, and hurt, in his eyes still bored into her as if he stood there.
Chapter Nine
“This is the fifth sheep this week,” said the Eldarkind through gritted teeth. “What’s more, the rest are in such terror that they have fled the pastures and several are still missing. We cannot continue like this.”
“Peace, Ilskun,” said Tarrell. His expression was purposefully impassive. “The dragons are carnivores and are wont to catch and eat their kills.” He held up his hand to stop Ilskun’s interruption. “I a
m aware this is unsustainable. I will speak to Farran-visir and ask that he and his clan hunt further afield, where they shall not encounter our own livestock.”
Ilskun scowled, not placated. “It may be so, but tell them also to keep their kills further from Ednor. It is unsavoury for everyone to witness such barbarism.”
Tarrell acknowledged Ilskun’s requests before dismissing him. He waited until the door had shut before he let out a great sigh of frustration and retreated to the window to stare upon the meadows and contemplate.
By all accounts, the dragons were unwelcome guests; this was not the first complaint. Already, he had heard how the bulk and size of the dragons had damaged much in Ednor: pavements and roads were crushed and broken, stonework knocked off buildings as they passed, and fences and even walls had been swept aside like piles of leaves by their tails. The complaints of missing livestock exceeded these grumbles in number, and even Tarrell himself was concerned about how long they could coexist with the dragons in Ednor, though he dared not admit it to anyone else.
Conflict at home was the last thing he needed when such momentous things were at stake outside the shelter of Ednor. Patience, he thought to himself, as he had many times before. Patience. He would have to show the patience his people understandably could not after the impositions on their lifestyles. Greater things were at stake than a broken wall or a missing goat. They would see that soon enough.
~
Tarrell’s day improved with the return of one of his scouts. Sendari entered his office, executed a hasty bow, and gulped the cold glass of mint water whilst Tarrell waited for his report, his fingers tapping upon his knee in impatience. Finally, good news at last. I hope.
“Lord Tarrell, I thank you,” Sendari said. He sunk into the chair opposite Tarrell with a grateful groan.
“I welcome you back. What news?”
Sendari swept a sweaty mop of brown hair away from his eyes with a grimy hand. He had travelled hard, Tarrell noted. “It is becoming harder to move through Caledan of late,” Sendari began. “Even in the regions around Pandora where we have ever been welcome. The people are scared. The suspicion and fear created by the dragon attacks is making them ever more distrustful of anyone different, or foreign.” He tugged at his hair. “I had to travel in disguise so as not to attract too much attention.”
Tarrell shook his head in dismay. “This is ill news, indeed. If we are unable to travel freely, this may hinder our plans. Tell me where you have been. Did you fulfill your duties?”
“I did, Sire. I have travelled south and east across Caledan, across the isthmus, and roamed far to the north of Roher and Ladrin. I travelled the endless sands to where Arandulus of the Waters lies entombed.”
“And is all well?” Tarrell leaned forward in his chair. His hands gripped the armrests.
Sendari faltered and he shot Tarrell a troubled glance. “All is well, as expected, but there is the slightest taint upon the air I cannot identify.”
Tarrell stiffened and fixed Sendari in his steely gaze. “Explain.” His voice was quiet, but his tone brooked no argument.
“The faintest shadow on the energy stream,” he said. His nose wrinkled as he frowned. “It was like the flow of magic itself had some darkness within it as I have never seen to such an extent before. And yet, all was well. Nothing stirred. Nothing struggled against its bond. Arandulus sleeps soundly, as best I could determine.”
“It begins,” murmured Tarrell. “Or rather, it continues. Arandulus awakens as Bahr awoke.”
“It cannot be so,” Sendari said, aghast.
“That shadow is unmistakable. If you felt a taint upon the magic stream, it is happening. The slow unbinding and attrition of the magic that holds them is coming to pass. Is it not the same at the site where Oronimbus of the Air lays bound?”
Sendari had already returned from a previous mission west of the March Mountains and outside Caledan’s domain to visit a spot deep in the wilderness. In a steep-sided valley, where the white water flowed fast, Oronimbus rested at the junction of two rivers. There, the water ran fastest and most turbulent.
Tarrell remembered his skin crawling with unsettlement as Sendari recounted how, despite the turbulent meeting of the waterways, the place in the deepest water were Oronimbus slumbered was as still as a millpond, as if the creature within could lessen the impact of the water of its own volition.
“It was the same with Oronimbus,” Sendari confirmed. He hesitated. “It ought not to have been still in the very storm of the waters and yet, the water binding of Oronimbus is stronger, or He is weaker. If anything, Arandulus was worse. The taint of Her magic was much stronger. The energy stream was darker, and I could see the energy river’s unnatural flow around Her, where with Oronimbus, there are little visible disturbances. I lay a new bond with Arandulus, and it seemed to have a little effect.”
That was no consolation. Not all the elementals had been accounted for, and Tarrell knew if Arandulus struggled against her bonds, others did, too. “It is only a matter of time. I thank you, Sendari. You bring valuable news. Rest awhile before your next scouting, and leave as soon as you may. I fear we are running out of time.”
Sendari bowed and left. As the door snapped shut, Tarrell cradled his head in his hands. His fingers massaged his temples as he tried to alleviate some of his stress. It was worse than he feared. The elementals already struggled against their bonds, and successfully.
First, clashes between his kin and the dragons. Then, the threat from humans. Now, their worst enemies of all arose. All three races: man, dragon, and Eldarkind would have to come together to see the pact be remade to bind the elementals in time to save them. That peace would not come to pass until Cies was defeated, Tarrell realised. Cies caused the rift of distrust between human, Eldarkind, and dragon, and Cies was the cause of their own strife with Farran and his dragons, who would not have to coexist alongside them if Cies was removed.
Cies was the key. He must be defeated, and all who follow him if we are to have a chance of success to remake the pact and bind once more those who ought to lie sleeping forevermore. We must defeat Cies before the elementals awaken, but by then, it could be too late.
Tarrell sent summons at once for Farran to join him, and for Soren to scry with them later that evening.
~
“Well met, Farran-visir,” Tarrell said as the great dragon set down in the clearing with a resounding thump.
Farran replied in kind as he folded his giant wings away.
“What’s this I hear of an incident this morning?” Tarrell asked, his tone carefully measured.
Farran rumbled. “My apologies. It would appear my kin is at fault.”
Tarrell huffed and paced before the dragon. “We cannot have this happening! Each day, we keep treading on each other’s toes instead of living in peace and harmony. My people feel threatened and they come to me, fearful and angry. Can you not control your kin?”
Farran’s growl turned into a snarl that made even Tarrell take a step back.
“I mean no offense,” said Tarrell, but he offered no apology for what he had said and pressed on instead. “It’s difficult not to be frustrated with the situation when our home is being destroyed and our carefully tended livestock frightened to death. We have ample space in Ednor outside the bounds of our dwellings. I am loathe to ask you to relocate further away—after all, we are allies—but it seems we cannot live in such close confines together.”
“I agree. We have a mutual problem.” Farran did not acknowledge the dragon’s part in that, Tarrell noted. “Perhaps, our kin—dragon and Eldarkind—need to understand our join predicament. Perhaps then, they will all see the need to cooperate and cease this pettiness.”
Tarrell’s eyes narrowed at the insinuation his own people were at fault, but he swallowed his pride, because Farran’s idea was sound. “This could work,” he conceded. “The enemy is not here. It… Cies… is out there, and he is coming. We must work with each other, not against each
other. We have left this too long.”
~
“And so,” Tarrell summarised, having explained his scout’s findings and his own conclusions. “We must rebuild the pact in the limited time we have remaining. I do not believe this is possible whilst Cies remains as a threat dividing all three of our races. In light of this, I believe we need to discuss our strategy going forward. It may be in our best interests to unite on this matter. Our three races are as in need of each other as ever, both in relation to Cies and to the elemental threat.”
“We need your help now; we have needed it for weeks!” replied Soren through the mirror, scowling. Tarrell could see he was trying to bite his tongue. “We cannot defeat Cies alone, or at all, without your assistance. We do not have the knowledge or the strength. How can you concern yourself with the threats of the future above what endangers us all now?”
“Do not concern yourself with that just yet,” Farran rumbled. “Where are the attacks?”
“In the east and the south.”
“Do they travel in a particular direction now?”
“Yes. West and north, on a direct course with Pandora. Please, I cannot protect my people from them,” Soren implored.
Farran did not respond immediately, but his rumble intensified. “They are coming for us. I am sure of it.”
“Your kin can fly across the country in mere days. Why are they not already upon us?”
“Perhaps, they do not yet dare. Perhaps, they are unsure of our location. Or, perhaps, Cies enjoys his terrorising so much he does not make haste.”
“Regardless,” replied Soren. “Whether they come for you or not, at this moment in time, my own people cannot sleep sound at night knowing they are safe. Every man, woman, and child is at risk wherever Cies goes. What can I do? How can I defend my people? I cannot do nothing, Farran-visir. How can my people look to me, trust me, follow me, if I do nothing?”
Tarrell and Farran shared a look. “Humans were never meant to be able to defeat a creature such as us,” Farran replied eventually. “Our armour is impregnable to all your weapons, fire strengthens us instead of damaging us, and we are creatures of both night and day. We are wise and cunning enough to elude and to hunt you. Bahr of the Fire made us well. Our one weakness is water, in any of its forms: steam, water or ice. In great quantities, it will harm us and if we are submerged in water, we perish.” Farran paused. Memories of Myrkith-visir and other clan members plunging into the cold seas to their instant death flashed across his vision.
