At River's End

by Lana Axe

  Lenora spoke softly, “This is a magical illness. It is far too strong for me to break.”

  “What of you then?” Rykon asked River. “You were supposed to be something special.”

  “There is a great power at work here,” River said, looking down. “It is more powerful than myself.”

  A servant stepped inside carrying a pot of tea on a tray. All of the room’s inhabitants looked at him, and his face reddened at their gaze. Obviously, he had walked in at an inappropriate moment.

  Lenora strode toward him. “Thank you,” she said, taking the tray. The man bowed and backed quickly out of the room. Lenora carried the tea to the king and poured a small amount in a cup. Tipping it to his lips, she said, “Drink. It will ease your pain.”

  Aelryk did as he was bid. The tea had a strong lemon flavor with an underlying woody taste that was not at all unpleasant. Instantly, he felt himself begin to relax, the constant ache in his joints completely disappearing. With a slight nod to his nurse, he closed his eyes and lay back on his pillows.

  “He needs to rest,” Lenora said. “I will stay and tend him.”

  “I’ll stay as well,” Lisalla said.

  “My Lord River, if you would accompany me,” Rykon said.

  “Of course,” River replied.

  The two men exited the room, followed soon after by Isandra. There was no need for her at the king’s side, and she did not trust Rykon, who seemed too quick to anger. If he intended harm to her father, she would be there to defend him.

  Leading the elves into his solar, he picked up the golden box from his desk. “This item was received only moments before my father fell ill.” He held the box up for the elves to observe. “It was claimed that a loyal subject sent it, but the man denied all knowledge of it.”

  “Do you believe him?” Isandra asked.

  “I do,” the prince replied. “A thorough investigation has found no affiliation between the duke and any mage. The box is obviously enchanted.” Extending it toward his guests, he waited for them to inspect it.

  River slowly stretched a hand toward the golden box. Immediately, he sensed a strong magical presence, one that he was loathe to discover. Fighting against the urge to move farther away, River placed his fingers on the box. An image immediately came into his mind. The harsh angular features and dark eyes left no question as to who he was seeing—Master Ulda was behind this.

  Grasping the box in his hand, River opened it to reveal the small, reflective bit of glass inside it. Quickly, he slammed it shut, his eyes fixated on the prince.

  Isandra rushed to his side. “What is it, Father?” she asked, grasping his arm.

  “It is Ulda,” he said in a low voice. A sense of dread spread throughout his body, settling deep inside his chest as if a knife were twisting its way to his heart. Turning to face his daughter, he added, “There will be trouble in the Vale.”

  Chapter 6

  Resting her head against her hand, Alyra did her best not to yawn as her tutor, Miss Hilla, prattled on about the history of the Vale. Four other students sat nearby, and they seemed quite interested in what Hilla had to say. Alyra, however, was daydreaming as usual.

  Classes were always held outdoors, under the protective shelter of a white wooden gazebo, and too many distractions could be seen as she stared off into the forest. Birds darted here and there, pursuing a variety of insects, and a particularly naughty squirrel repeatedly ran to the center of town to steal nuts that had been gathered by the elves. Alyra pretended she was tiny and could ride upon the back of the squirrel. There were so many adventures she could have with that furry creature as her companion. But when she opened her eyes, she realized that alas, she was still only an elf.

  “I’m waiting, Alyra,” Miss Hilla said, crossing her arms. Raising her eyebrows at the girl, she pursed her lips tightly and awaited a reply.

  Alyra had no idea what Hilla was talking about. In her reverie, she had, without a doubt, missed something. The other students began giggling but quickly covered their mouths when Hilla’s eyes darted from one to the others.

  “What was the question again?” Alyra asked, hoping she wasn’t in too much trouble.

  Hilla sighed. “Young lady, I think it’s time we had another talk about staying on task. See me after class.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Alyra said, bowing her head. It seemed she would be receiving the same lecture she listened to nearly every week. Hilla would undoubtedly threaten to speak with her parents, and Lenora would be disappointed once again. No matter how hard Alyra tried, she simply could not make herself interested in her studies. In her heart, she truly believed that she could learn everything she needed to know from her mother and father. Classes were a boring waste of time, and she would much prefer to spend her days exploring the forest.

  Alyra managed to pay attention for only a few minutes before her mind drifted away again. Fortunately, the other students stood, the noise of their feet waking her from her dream. She had forgotten that Miss Hilla had planned to take them on a trip to the Archives to supplement the day’s history lesson.

  Single file, with Alyra at the back, the students followed Hilla down the wooden steps of the gazebo. Sunlight filtered through the treetops, landing upon the young elf girl’s nose and brightening her spirits. The air was fresh and clean, and she took in a deep breath as she closed her eyes and continued to walk. It wasn’t long before she had wandered from her classmates.

  The other students continued on toward the giant silver tree where the Archives were stored. Alyra paused a moment to watch them walk away before turning to face the forest. A group of elves stood near the tree line, so Alyra decided to take a different path and head toward the river instead. Its rushing waters bubbled and sang as they sped along on their journey to the sea, and the sound reached her, bringing a smile to her face. How many times had she sat at the river’s edge, her father at her side? It was impossible to count. His stories of the creatures of the sea and the unique voices of each tiny stream filled her young mind with wonder. If only she could see and hear the things he did.

  Though he’d told her she was capable of all his gifts, she didn’t believe him. Time and again she had tried to make magic, but even the simplest spells were too complicated. Her mind couldn’t concentrate on one subject long enough.

  It was only a matter of time, he had repeated again and again. Someday she would learn to focus her energy, and her gift would be revealed. As she grew, Alyra realized those words were probably just a result of a father’s pride and his desire to encourage his daughter. Still, she didn’t mind him repeating them. She loved him dearly, and every moment they spent together was filled with happiness. With him away, she found herself missing him to the point that it was difficult to sleep. In her lifetime, he had been away only once before, and she hoped never to become accustomed to his absence.

  Nearing the river, a strange sensation came over the young elf. Something was wrong—she could sense it. A clap of thunder echoed through the valley, and she broke into a run, descending the hill to the riverbank. On the surface of the water, she observed jagged silver lines flashing as if lightning were reflected from the sky. Glancing up, Alyra determined that the sky was perfectly clear. The lightning originated in the water.

  Cautiously, the young girl moved closer, her breath coming in quick, shallow spurts. All fell silent across the land, as if the world stood still. Another crash rang out, startling the girl. Jumping back a step, she steadied herself and summoned her courage before moving closer to the river’s edge.

  Instead of the deep-blue hue it normally displayed, the water was turning gray, starting at the edges and moving toward the center. The streaks of lightning disappeared, leaving behind blackened lines that dissolved slowly into the gray water. Alyra’s stomach tied itself into a knot. What could have caused such a change? With her father far away, there was no one who was able to converse with the Spirit and find out what had occurred.

  Staring for another mome
nt, Alyra looked for any sign that the water was returning to its usual color. After a while, the birds began to sing again, and dragonflies buzzed the water’s surface. Except for the color of the water, it was as if nothing had happened. The nagging feeling in the girl’s stomach did not relent. Whatever she had witnessed had not been a natural occurrence. She needed to get help.

  Turning away from the water, she raced up the hill and back into the elven village. Not bothering to acknowledge anyone, she set her sights to the forest and continued to run. The other elves paid little heed to the child, who was prone to such wild behavior. They had seen nothing of the lightning and were completely unaware of any danger.

  Dashing through the trees, Alyra nimbly dodged low limbs and saplings. She paid no heed to her slippers as they parted from her feet, and she ran barefoot through the soft forest grass. Even the thorny bushes that scraped her arms and legs couldn’t slow her down. This was no time to tread carefully. She had to find her brother.

  Rogin was stationed at the far edge of the forest with two other elves, both of whom were armed with longbows. Platforms had been fashioned in the canopy, giving the elves a bird’s-eye view of the borders of the Vale. Here Rogin sat relaxed, unaware of his sister’s impending arrival.

  Reaching the edge of the forest, Alyra paused and scanned the area. She knew there was a rope ladder nearby, she just didn’t know exactly where. The scouts frequently changed their lookout locations. Spotting the rope at last, the girl grabbed a hold and began to climb.

  One of the elves heard the commotion beneath and peered down to see the girl on the rope. “Looks like we have company,” he said with a smile.

  Rogin stood and looked over the edge. “Alyra?” he called down to her. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to be in school.”

  Alyra did not reply until she reached the platform. Not bothering to brush the dirt away from her dress, she said, “There’s trouble at the river.”

  The three men looked at one another, suspecting this was some silly daydream the girl had invented. Rogin’s two companions grinned and looked away.

  With a sigh, Rogin asked, “What sort of trouble?”

  Pursing her lips and crossing her arms, she said, “I’m not joking. I saw lightning on the water’s surface. Now it’s all gray.”

  Rogin narrowed his eyes and observed his sister. There was no sign she was making it up, and she was visibly insulted by the insinuation. “I’ll come with you and have a look,” he replied. “You two stay here and keep watch,” he said to his companions.

  Alyra climbed down first, followed closely by her brother. They walked through the forest at a quick pace, Alyra leading the way. Constantly glancing back over her shoulder, she made sure her brother was still following.

  When they came within sight of the river, Rogin stopped dead in his tracks. Gaping at the gray water, he said, “You must tell me everything you saw.”

  “I heard thunder and a loud crackling noise,” she began. “It sounded a lot like lightning striking a tree. I saw lightning on the water’s surface. It went away, leaving behind black lines. The lines faded, and the water turned gray.”

  “Maybe this has happened because Father is away,” Rogin suggested. “He rarely leaves. Perhaps this is some reaction to his absence and nothing more.” In the back of his mind, he doubted what he was saying was true. Still, there was no reason to alarm his young sister.

  As the pair continued to look out over the water, a large, green-scaled fish swam lazily toward the water’s edge. When it reached the shallows, it slowly rotated onto its back, its shimmering belly facing skyward. Within seconds, several other fish followed suit. All of them gasping for air.

  “What do we do?” Alyra asked, her eyes pleading.

  “We must summon the Elder Council,” Rogin replied, not taking his eyes off the river.

  “I meant how do we help the fish?”

  “I’m not sure that we can,” he said. “Mother might have been able to.”

  “There must be someone else,” Alyra begged. Looking back at the helpless creatures as they suffered, she whispered, “Someone has to help.”

  Looking at his sister, Rogin said, “Listen to me. Don’t you dare go near the water.” After a silent pause, he asked, “Do you hear me? I’m serious, Alyra.”

  Alyra nodded slowly as she attempted to fight back her tears. “Could the dryads help?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” Rogin said. “I can have one of the scouts ask. You are to return home and remain there,” he demanded. “No running off into the woods, no getting into trouble.” He gave her a stern look, hoping that she would obey him.

  Alyra followed her brother back up the hill to their village. As they neared his parents’ home, he pointed to the door. Without a word, Alyra went inside. From the window in the sitting room, she had an excellent view of the Blue River. Though it pained her to see what was happening there, she could not resist the urge to look once more.

  Tears streamed down her cheeks as she watched the once beautiful river continue to darken. The water became deep gray and had a thickness to it as if it had turned to sludge. Fish continued to surface and die, but no elves came to the banks to assist. Alyra could hear the commotion outside as Rogin summoned the council members to an urgent meeting. Soon, everyone would be inside the council house, discussing what to do next. Alyra knew what she had to do.

  Once the coast was clear, she proceeded out the door and hurried down the hill back to the river. A fetid odor nearly made her stomach turn, the smell of death hanging heavily on the breeze. Covering her nose and mouth with her arm for a moment, she took in a few gulps of air before continuing. Her bare feet squished in the mud as she knelt at the edge of the water.

  “Poor little thing,” she said as she watched a small silver fish join the others in death. Reaching out in an effort to comfort the creature, her fingers brushed against the gray surface of the water. An image flashed in her mind, nearly knocking her off balance. Steadying herself, she paused only an instant before finding the courage to touch the water again. The face of a man with dark hair and eyes entered her mind. His gaze seemed to penetrate through her, as if he watched her from a distance.

  With her mind, she projected, Who are you? Why have you done this?

  Laughter was the man’s only reply, his face twisting into a horrible smile. Alyra continued to watch as the man turned his gaze elsewhere. Wherever he was, a second person had entered the room. Alyra could hear the man’s words as plain as day. The second man called the laughing man Master Ulda and asked what service he should perform next.

  At the realization of who she was seeing, Alyra removed her hand from the water, and the vision instantly vanished. Swallowing hard, her throat felt dry and swollen. She knew Master Ulda was the man whose army her father had defeated long ago in Na’zora. This couldn’t be a coincidence. This man might also be behind the current trouble that took her father and mother away.

  There was no time to consider the consequences. Her brother would be angry she had disobeyed him, but she couldn’t keep this information to herself. The Vale and all the people in it were in danger, and her father might be too.

  Gathering the tail of her dress in her hand, she ran barefoot toward the council house. Shoving open the door with all her strength, she stepped inside. The loud clang of the door interrupted the men who were talking, and most of the gathered elves turned to face her. Her legs covered in mud and her dress dirty, she only added to the sense of confusion among the assembled elves.

  “Rogin,” she called. “It’s Ulda. I saw him!”

  Voices spoke over one another as every elf in the room recognized the name. He was a sorcerer of terrible power, and he had set his sights on their home. Without River’s magic to protect them, they would need Rogin’s soldiers now more than ever.

  Rogin motioned for his sister to come to his side. “How do you know this?”

  Bowing her head, she admitted, “I left the house. I
touched the water.”

  Rogin drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Swallowing his urge to scold the girl, he said, “Is that when you saw him?”

  Alyra nodded. “I saw his face, and he laughed at me. Another man was there and said Ulda’s name. It was him; I’m sure of it. I could feel his evil presence in the water.”

  Rogin knew his next move would be to assemble his troops and increase the number of guards near the border. If Ulda was nearby, there would soon be an attack. Without the ability to speak with the Spirit, Rogin had no way to be sure the magical barrier his father had placed would still be in effect. Once he felt the Vale was fully protected, he would attempt to contact his father.

  “Go back home, Alyra,” Rogin said. “And this time stay there.”

  With a nod, she turned and crossed the center of the village before pausing in front of her door. The sky had begun to darken, and the air felt cooler than normal. Whatever Ulda had done, it had affected not only the river but also the Vale itself. Shivering slightly, Alyra opened the door and walked inside. Averting her eyes from the window, she grasped the shutters and closed them tightly. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she tried to block out the mental image of what was occurring only steps away. How could the Vale ever be the same?

  Chapter 7

  Placing his scrying orb back on its stand, Ulda continued to laugh. The mixture of fear and loathing on the young girl’s face brought him immense joy. It let him know that the elves were indeed aware of his actions, and they also knew who was behind the attack on the river. They would fear him, and the only one among them who stood a chance against his powers would now be weakened. River would fade with the death of the Spirit.

  Turning to his servant Prin, Ulda said, “Tell me what you know of the Vale.”

  “Only what I’ve found in old fairytales, Master,” Prin admitted. Months of research had yielded few facts of the mysterious land. “I know it is a land of eternal spring, protected by mountains, forests, and a great river. Mistonwey, the ancient god of rivers, is rumored to dwell there.”