The Elf and the Amulet

by Chris Africa

  The Elf and the

  Amulet

  Chris Africa

  Copyright © 2017 Chris Africa

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Cover Design by Chris Africa, Olivia Africa and Peter Thorpe

  Edited by Stephanie Smart

  Dedication

  For Olivia, my strong, creative daughter,

  who can do and be anything she desires.

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  1: The Wrong Room

  2: A Departure and Another Arrival

  3: Strange Words from a Stranger

  4: Destiny

  5: Long Journeys, Short Goodbyes

  6: The Journey Begins

  7: Orchard Vale

  8: The Scrying Mirror

  9: Meeting a Priestess

  10: The Blackwood

  11: Vision or Hallucination?

  12: Night Attack

  13: Sins of the Nydwon

  14: Strange Times

  15: Out of the Darkness

  16: Sunoa and the Queen's Festival

  17: What Jared Learned

  18: Northmen

  19: Separated

  20: Across the River

  21: Captured

  22: Andrev Talks

  23: Another Nydwon

  24: Recovery

  25: The Dalatois Camp

  26: Waet Sorcerers?

  27: Enchanted Bracelet

  28: William Goes Missing

  29: Healing Touch

  30: The Fine Boat

  31: The Travel Stone

  32: Reunited

  33: Lyear Tries to Run

  34: The Amulet of Hope

  35: Winter Plans

  Epilogue

  Appendix A: Prophecies of the Nydwon

  Appendix B: The Gods of Ayzwind

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  1: The Wrong Room

  A warm breeze shook the bolls around Chassy Waet’s head, making them thump like the wooden chimes that had lulled him to sleep for sixteen summers. Tomorrow, Mayvis would arrive with her trading caravan, and Chassy would be off on a summer-long adventure across the world, leaving this tiny village and all its heavy expectations behind. He was enjoying his last day in the village, stretched out in the Mother Tree with his best friend, Nita Smyth. Located at the edge of the village closest to the Langesrote, her vast branches were a centuries-old landmark for visitors and the most comfortable place to hide when you wanted to escape the world or have a private conversation.

  "You could come with us," he told her, not for the first time. "Think of how much fun it would be travel across Ayzwind together."

  Despite his excitement, he couldn’t help feeling a little sad about leaving Nita behind. They had been friends since they were babies, never separated for more than a day. He was going to miss her.

  Nita sighed. "There’s no way I’m going to run off with Mayvis. I don’t want to meet bandits and warlords, and I bet you wouldn’t either. You know you aren’t going to eat anything but dried meat and hard cheese all summer, right? And I would be surprised if you get a hot bath the entire trip. Why would you want to leave the village for that?"

  Chassy stifled a sigh. "I don’t want to marry Tuva and become the Masterweaver, Nita." There was nothing wrong with Tuva, or any of the other girls in the village, except that they just were so ordinary and content with doing exactly what was expected of them.

  "Then just become something else," she answered. As if it were so simple.

  "You know that’s not how it works," Chassy said. "If I stay here, that’s all I am ever going to be. And if you stay here, your brother is going to take over the Two Pumpkin Inn, and you’re going marry some nice boy and have babies."

  Nita snorted. "That’s a complete joke. Andrev has his head too far into books to run an inn, and I don’t want to get married. I’m going to take over the inn, and I don’t need any man to do it."

  He knew what Nita believed, and he also knew how things worked in Waet Tree Village. The village had a way of forcing you to be the thing it thought you should be.

  "My leg is going numb." He studied the silver leaves shimmering around them and kicked his foot. "Maybe we should climb down."

  They straddled opposing limbs in the Mother Tree, the one place the Masterweaver's son should not be found at any time of year. Yet, there they were again, hiding from chores. The silver leaves rustled in the wind, and the green bolls thumped together. As the silk in the bolls matured inside over the summer, the sound would gradually change to a higher-pitched cracking. Finally, near the end of the summer, the harvesters would come out in force and gather the bolls from all the trees in the groves. Chassy had been harvesting for three years, and his father had honored him by asking him to lead the entire harvest team this season. The Masterweaver must be an expert in all aspects of silk growing, the harvest and the weaving practice.

  He didn't know much about the rest of the world, but he did know that Waet Tree Village was the only place he would ever hear the sound of silk bolls knocking in the wind. Over the centuries, people eager to enjoy the profits of the silk trade had been trying—and failing—to cultivate their own Waet trees. The trees just wouldn’t grow outside of the village.

  "Your leg isn't numb. I bet you’re having second thoughts about going." Nita tucked her skirts between her legs and turned to face him. Her ribbon was sliding down the side of her head, just a few strands of auburn hair holding it in place. Nita had always been classically pretty, with wide, brown eyes and a small nose, and the boys Chassy's age were already starting to look at her more than he thought appropriate. Somehow, she always looked good and smelled good no matter what she'd been doing. He self-consciously scrubbed a hand through his own curly brown locks, trying to smooth them down and sighing when he found some dead leaves. He supposed a bath might help.

  Chassy closed his eyes and paused to memorize the sounds and feelings and the way his best friend looked at that moment. He didn’t hate his life. He just felt a need to be… different.

  "No, I’m not. I’m ready to go. You know I've been talking about this since I was a little kid and Mayvis told me about meeting a dragon."

  "Yeah, but you want to stay and help your father with the harvest almost as much." She sighed. "You can't escape it, Chassy. You're a Waet, through and through. When duty calls..."

  The faint clomping of hooves broke the conversation, and they reflexively pulled their legs back up. As the horses passed, Nita turned sideways on the limb and flipped backwards, letting her head hang down below the silver leaf curtain shielding them from discovery.

  "Nita! Get back up here!" he whispered. His parents would skin him if they found out he'd been climbing the trees outside of harvest season.

  Nita pulled herself back up, face red as a strawberry and ribbon missing. "Strangers!" she said. "If they're stopping in Waet, they'll be at the inn. Let's go!"

  Chassy shimmied down, pulled his boots out of a nearby patch of flowers and slipped them on.

  "Ow! Godsblessit!" Nita fell flat on her face.

  A big strip of lace connected her dress to the tree. Chassy tugged it free and gave her a hand up. "You okay?"

  "Stupid skirts! When I take over Two Pumpkins, I’m going to wear breeches." Nita ripped off the torn piece and stuffed it in her waist pouch. Her pale green dress had bits of grass
and dirt stuck in the embroidery, and both wrist-length sleeves had bright grass stains on them. Nita lifted up the top layer and smoothed the underskirts to make the dress lay flat again.

  "Now you have dirt all over you. Your mother is going to pitch a fit." Chassy was genuinely afraid of Lora Smyth when she got angry. She might be small and pretty, but she sure knew how to use a wooden spoon, as he had learned last year when Lora caught him snitching a slice of her fresh sugar cream pie.

  "Never mind, I'll have it all cleaned up and fixed before she ever sees it."

  <><><>

  Chassy followed Nita up the short rose trellis in the garden behind the Two Pumpkin Inn, and crawled through the tiny window. He was definitely getting too big to be doing this. There was one scary moment when he thought his shoulders were stuck in the frame, and then he tumbled through onto Andrev's bed, landing in a pile of books. More books formed a precarious tower on the writing desk, with great stacks of them plotting a clear pathway through the cramped room.

  "Where's your brother? I don't think I've ever come in this way when he wasn't in his room with his face stuffed in a book," Chassy said. Over the years, the book piles had grown larger and more numerous, and he was fairly sure Andrev now slept with some in his bed.

  Nita frowned. "Mother probably called him to help with the strangers." Then she brightened. "That means everyone's too busy to notice us. Let's find out what's going on."

  The Two Pumpkin Inn was centuries old, and generations of Smyths had enlarged it several times. Andrev's room was in the same wing as the Blue Den, across the hall. The Blue Den had fallen out of favor due to its old-fashioned decor. This suited Andrev perfectly well, because it preserved his solitude.

  The floor above, part of a much newer addition, contained a flaw that was known only to the family and Chassy. A dumbwaiter installed in the wrong room made the Blue Den the perfect eavesdropping spot. Chassy had spent entire afternoons hiding with Nita behind the wardrobe, listening to conversations carried through the walled-up dumbwaiter.

  He followed into the dark room, allowing the tug of her hand to guide him around the furniture. He tucked himself in beside her. His knees scraped the back of the wardrobe, and when he breathed, Nita's lavender soap filled his nostrils. He remembered the days when they were small enough to crouch face to face behind the wardrobe. Now there was just room enough for them had to stand with their backs to the wall.

  They waited, ears pressed to the wall, but not a sound issued from the dumbwaiter. Then the door of the room opened. Chassy held his breath, and felt Nita grab his hand. He blinked as the room lit up and looked at Nita, whose face froze in horror.

  "This is the room you requested."

  That was Andrev’s voice! What was he doing in here? He sounded halfway polite, for once.

  "This is your best?" A smooth, low voice answered, with all the arrogance that Andrev was lacking. "Master Vornole is a Xillith wizard. That is on par with royalty."

  "If it is not good enough, you could look for accommodations elsewhere." Shadows flickered as Andrev moved around the room, lighting other candles. "As there are no other inns in Waet, you'll want Rosemont, a few days north." Now there was the Andrev Chassy knew!

  "Never mind. Leave us, boy."

  Andrev's arm came into view, then his narrow face. He raised an eyebrow and then sneered at them as he lit a nearby candle.

  "I recommend an early afternoon walk through the groves, if Master Vornole is up to the task," Andrev said. Was he actually trying to get the strangers out of the room for them? Chassy glanced sideways at Nita, whose mouth was hanging open. Andrev should have ratted them out in an instant. He must be feeling especially charitable today.

  "Did you not hear me? Leave us now, boy."

  "Suit yourself."

  Andrev disappeared from view, and Chassy heard the door close. He almost groaned as he heard a chair being dragged across the floor, followed by the telltale squeak of someone settling into it. They'd never actually been stuck in the room before, and he didn't know how they would get out. Chassy heard some shuffling that sounded like pages being turned in a book. Reading? They were going to read? He grimaced and glanced at Nita. She shrugged and rolled her eyes. What could they do but wait?

  Minutes passed, and sweat soaked Chassy's underarms. He hoped Nita couldn't smell him. She still smelled like flowers, of course. How did girls manage that? Faint sounds came from the walled-up dumbwaiter, but Chassy couldn't risk moving to listen. He wished the strangers would at least talk and give them something to think about while they were waiting.

  What seemed like hours later, Chassy's head nodded and he jerked. His cramped legs threatened to drop him. Nita yawned silently. The shadows thrown by the candles grew longer, and he wondered how late it was becoming. Their parents must be looking for them by now. Still, if they turned themselves in at this point, they'd be in huge trouble—not to mention spoiling a perfectly good hiding spot. No, they'd have to wait it out, even if it meant staying here all night with leg cramps and no dinner.

  Chassy jerked again when someone cleared his throat.

  "Where are we?" It was a fragile voice.

  "Waet Tree Village." Boots shuffled across the floor. "Vornole, be still. How do you feel?"

  "Feel? Oh, I'm perfectly well. Though I am a bit hungry. Don't suppose you could scare up something to eat?"

  The call bell tinkled, summoning help from the kitchen. Chassy slumped a little. If they had to stand in here and smell Henny's cooking, the growling of his own stomach would surely give them away.

  "The amulet is not safe with you, Vornole. You should allow me to ride ahead. I can make better time without you."

  "No, no," the frail voice replied. "The Amulet of Hope has been under the care of the Wizards of Xillith for centuries—millennia. I do not have the authority to give it to anyone but those chosen by the council at Xillith. If the council were to learn you were in possession of the amulet, you would become their enemy, and your life would be forfeit."

  "I ask you which is the greater risk? The loss of my life, or the amulet falling into the wrong hands?"

  "Lyear, you're the friend of my life. I simply can't do that to you."

  Chassy glanced down at Nita, who raised her eyebrows. This conversation was serious trouble. They had better not get caught. The Wizards of Xillith? The Amulet of Hope? It sounded magical and dangerous.

  Someone knocked on the door. The hinges creaked, and wonderful aromas filled the room. It was Henny's roast lamb, cooked in garlic and rosemary that she imported fresh from Rosemont. He heard the dishes clinking, and pictured her placing a generous slice of lamb on the plate with a scoop of gravy. He bet she was serving them with a little mound of tiny baby potatoes and peppered carrots, just like she always did for the harvest festival. Chassy's stomach was on the verge of growling.

  "Do I smell roast lamb?"

  "That you do, young man!" Henny laughed.

  "My goodness, you flatter me!" The one with the fragile voice—Vornole, Chassy supposed—sounded amused. "And what else do you have for a hungry wizard?"

  "Fresh bread, warm cider from our very own orchards, and—"

  Nita sneezed. Chassy's stomach jumped.

  "Jasmine blossoms, which causes certain people to sneeze," Henny's face loomed right over Chassy's shoulder. He had never realized how tall she really was. "What in the name of all that is good and fair are the two of you doing back here?"

  Henny grabbed Chassy's ear, and he practically fell over his own feet trying to follow her arm. Somehow, the big cook had hold of Nita's ear with her other hand. Chassy was pretty sure from her bulging arm muscles that she could lift them both right off the floor.

  "The two of you are going to be scrubbing dishes 'til you have disobedient children of your very own! And I won't even speak of the hurt your mother's going to put on you when she finds out you've been eavesdropping on our honored guests! Now you apologize to Master Lyear and Master Vornole this instant!"r />
  She let go of Chassy’s ear and shoved him up beside Nita in front of a thin stranger with pale eyes and an angry twist to his mouth. His hair was as long and straight as a bride's hair on her wedding day. Chassy's eyes stuck on the man's pointy ears. It looked like Henny had picked him up and stretched his ears out in the process. He had heard of, but never seen, ears like that.

  "I should think that all eavesdropping merits strong punishment, whether or not the guest is honored." The man turned his back to them.

  Chassy could tell by the voice, this one must be Lyear. He looked over his shoulder at Henny and raised his eyebrows. She scowled and swept her hands toward him. Why was he being made to apologize while Nita looked on? He glanced at Nita, who was giving her usual innocent look, just like she always did after she convinced him to go along with something that got both of them into trouble.

  "We're sorry," he said. "We weren't trying to eavesdrop on you, of course."

  A reedy voice laughed from among the bed pillows. The man lying there was so bony, and his beard so big, it looked like someone had stretched him out and stuck a whole bag of wool on his little brown face. "So you were trying to eavesdrop on someone much more interesting than an old wizard and an elf, were you?"

  Chassy was powerless to close his mouth. Nita kicked him in the leg, and he hopped a little. What was that for? He was already being made to apologize for the both of them, when it was her idea in the first place.

  "That's not what I meant." Chassy struggled for an explanation, even as he realized Vornole was just playing with him.

  "No explanation is necessary," said Vornole more somberly. "After all, when one is discovered hiding behind a piece of furniture in a room not his own, what other sort of explanation could there possibly be?"

  Henny grabbed Chassy's ear again, and he winced. "I'm dreadfully sorry, Master Vornole," she apologized. "I'm going to take these children right down to their parents for a little talking to. They won't be troubling you again, you can be sure of that."