At River's End
Page 11
“Air dwells above us in the mountains,” River replied. “But she is not an elf. She’s a dwarf.”
“Now I’ve heard everything,” Mel said, shaking his head. “I didn’t know dwarves could learn magic at all, and I certainly didn’t know they mastered the elements.”
“Most of them don’t,” River said with a shrug. “Kaiya is different.”
“She must be,” Mel replied. “How do we get in touch with her?”
“You climb up the waterfall,” Lenora replied, a broad smile on her face. She remembered a day many years ago when she had done just that at River’s side.
“You’re joking,” Mel said.
“Only slightly,” River replied. “The fastest way to Kaiya would indeed be to go up the waterfall. Unfortunately, I don’t have the strength to alter it for you.”
“He turned it into a staircase once,” Lenora said. “We marched up it like it was the most ordinary thing in the world.”
“I’m not a mountain climber,” Mel said. “If you can’t do what you did before, how do you expect me to go and fetch this Kaiya?”
“You’re a master of earth magic,” River reminded him. “The cliff face is naught but rock. You can command it.”
Mel clenched his jaw, not wanting to repeat himself. River had almost certainly lost his mind. Mel never had such an ability.
“When you stop doubting your abilities, you’ll see that it’s indeed possible,” River said, his voice sincere.
Mel sighed and thought, More of that Westerling Elf “believe in yourself” magical style. “All right, fine,” he said. “I’ll command the mountain to take me to Kaiya. Should I fetch fire on my way back?”
River’s confident expression grew dark. “There is only one person I can think of to represent fire. I will have to convince him to come with us.”
Lenora placed her hands over her mouth to stifle a gasp.
“Who is it?” Mel asked.
“Telorithan,” River replied.
Mel startled at the mention of the sorcerer’s name. “He is a murderer,” he said. “Our people avoid him at all costs. He is extremely dangerous. Even the slightest affront is answered with death. I would not trust him to help us.”
“This cause is as much his own as it is ours,” River explained. “I will go to fetch him, and you and Kaiya will come with me.”
Mel didn’t like the sound of that, but he nodded anyway. River seemed to know what he was talking about, so Mel didn’t question him further. Perhaps the three of them together would pose enough threat that Telorithan would do them no harm. Otherwise, all River’s planning would be in vain.
A scuffling on the floor above them caught the trio’s attention.
“A mouse, no doubt,” River said, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
Lenora pursed her lips and crossed her arms. “A mouse who likes to listen to things that don’t concern her.”
River patted his life mate’s arm. “It concerns us all, my love,” he said. “There is no harm in what she’s heard.”
“I guess it’s time for me to get going,” Mel said with a sigh. “After all, I’ve got a mountain to climb.”
* * * * *
Stepping out into the chilly air, Mel realized that the temperature in the Vale wasn’t right. Winter never came to this land, and though it wasn’t yet as cold as it was back home, he was well aware of the change in climate. Whatever Ulda was planning, it went much deeper than simply ridding himself of an ancient water spirit.
Making his way to the riverbank, Mel noticed stacks of nets neatly folded and placed above the water line. With the absence of dead fish, Mel knew that the elves had been hard at work removing the carcasses from the river. The smell remained but at a much more tolerable level.
As he approached the water, he saw that the top inch or so was clear, the gray filth having settled somewhat. His better judgment warned him not to get too much of it on him, as it likely still contained the potent poison that had killed the fish. Looking up at the waterfall that fed into the river, he deemed the water flowing in to be pristine. The beauty of the falls was not diminished by the tainted water below.
According to River’s instructions, the rock formation behind the waterfall was where Mel needed to climb to access the dwarf village above. Looking around, Mel wondered how best to get to the falls without immersing himself in the water. His eyes fell on a small boat floating untethered only an arm’s length away. It hugged the bank unnaturally, as if it had no desire to remain in the water.
Climbing inside the tiny vessel, Mel was thankful to keep his feet dry. The Westerling Elves built sturdy crafts, and this one had no leaks. Slowly paddling toward the rocks, he noticed the boulders at the waterfall’s base were surrounded by clean water. Ulda’s evil had not been able to overcome the force of nature. Looking up to the top of the falls, Mel smiled. It was an amazing sight to behold, and the scent of fresh water gave him a feeling of serenity.
Preparing to be pummeled by the falling water, Mel hunched his shoulders as he rowed beneath it. The tumbling water landed on him with force, drenching him with a surprisingly warm shower. Though he was rather wet, the experience had not been the painful one he expected. If anything, he felt rejuvenated by its power.
Finding a sturdy platform of black rock, Mel pulled himself out of his boat and stood on the ledge. The rocks above him were slick with water. Grabbing at one, his hand immediately slipped away. Glad I kept my feet on the ground, he thought. With a sigh, he remembered that he was no mountain climber. Trees are so much easier than rocks. As if a light had gone off in his head, he realized what he needed to do.
Focusing his energy into the ground, Mel reached deep into the earth beneath his feet. Summoning his magic, he concentrated on the wall, holding his breath as vines sprouted upon the surface of the rock. Closing his eyes, he focused deeper, forcing them to grow thick and sturdy. When he opened his eyes, he beheld vines so thick they had grown bark. Tugging at one, he nodded approvingly at his own effort. “These will do just fine,” he said, complimenting himself. Since becoming a shaman, the earth-magic spells he could cast sometimes surprised him. This was one of those times.
Scampering up the vines with the agility of one who has climbed trees his entire life, Mel found himself quickly nearing the top. A faint scratching sound came from beneath him, and he paused to look down and investigate. He saw nothing. Deciding he was growing paranoid with all the evil sorcerer talk, he shrugged it off and continued his ascent.
Within minutes, Mel’s hands landed upon a plateau that was wide enough to stand on. Pulling himself to the top, he planted his feet firmly on the hard-packed ground. To his delight, a narrow path stretched before him in the brown grass of winter. The path had mostly been overgrown, but at one time, it had obviously been used with some frequency.
Heading down the path that would lead to the dwarf village, Mel once again heard a noise, this time similar to a small animal in the grass. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw nothing. Shaking his head, he dismissed the sound. It was likely some creature in search of food. His senses were always heightened after pulling large amounts of magic, so he did his best to ignore whatever it was.
Not far ahead, Mel saw smoke rising in faint silver lines. As he continued forward, more smoke came into view, rising high from the chimneys on the homes of the dwarves. Much quicker than expected, he had reached the dwarf village, where a master of air magic dwelt.
Chapter 14
Looking toward the dwarf village, Mel counted dozens of homes clustered near each other, as well as a rather large marketplace. Despite the cold air, the village bustled with activity. The smell of fresh-baked goods wafted on the air, his stomach rumbling in response. Hammers rang out from the smithy, and black smoke spewed from the forge. As always, the dwarves were hard at work crafting metals, a specialty among their kind.
At first Mel went unnoticed by the busy citizens, but eventually he started receiving some glances. One woman stared
intently at the elf, tripping over her own feet and nearly tumbling to the ground. Mel stifled a laugh and looked away, taking in the sturdy dwarven architecture. All the buildings were crafted of stone, not at all like the huts his people lived in. Unlike Mel’s clan, these people had no intention of moving in search of better hunting for the winter.
Mel walked through the dwarf village with his head held high. At only five feet in height, he rarely had the opportunity to look down at anyone. All of the dwarves stood at least a head shorter than him, and that gave him a sense of pride. He knew it probably made him a jerk to feel that way, but he didn’t care. Being the tall one in the room was a nice change, and he planned to enjoy it.
“Elk skin?” a husky voice asked.
Looking to his right, Mel’s eyes fell on a stocky dwarf dressed in a thick wool tunic. In his hand was a stout needle and a leather pouch, to which he sewed a strip of sleek, brown fur.
“Excuse me?” Mel asked.
“Elk skin, I said,” the dwarf repeated. “Your clothes. The leather looks soft.” The man stepped forward and reached out for Mel’s sleeve. “Am I right?”
“It is,” Mel replied, taking a step back. “Are you a tailor?”
“Of sorts,” the dwarf replied with a shrug. “Ard’s the name.” With a wide smile on his lips, he extended a thick hand toward the elf. Grasping Mel’s hand, he squeezed it with a firm grip. “You here to trade?” Ard looked around for the rest of the elves. “Are you alone?”
“Yep, just little old me,” Mel said and immediately bit his lip. Not exactly a joke he should be making in front of dwarves, but it was an expression he used often among humans.
“Where are your goods?” Ard asked, puzzled. Mel had no pack or a cart. Woodland Elves never made the journey into the mountains without numerous items to trade.
“I’m not here to trade,” Mel explained. “I’m looking for someone.” Quickly, he added, “A friend of mine.” Though he’d never met Kaiya, he didn’t want to sound like he had a score to settle. If he was to find her, he needed to get the dwarves talking, not have them clam up in defense of their own.
“Friend, huh?” Ard replied. “What’s the name?”
Not sure which question the dwarf had meant to ask, the elf replied, “My name’s Mel, and I’m looking for Kaiya.”
“Kaiya?” Ard repeated, laughing. “She’s not here.”
She probably flew away on a gust of wind, Mel thought. He rolled his eyes, annoyed that he’d made the trip at all. Hoping she hadn’t traveled too far, he asked, “Do you have any idea where she is?”
Ard grinned. “’Course I do. She’s at her house a short walk outside of town. Rarely leaves her farm, that one.”
Relieved, Mel said, “Thanks. Can you point me in her direction?”
“Sure,” Ard replied, pointing. “Just follow that path. It’ll lead you right to her.”
“How do I know which house is hers?”
“It’s the only one in that direction,” Ard replied with a shrug. “Sheep, goats, you can’t miss it.”
“Appreciate it,” Mel said with a nod.
Turning away from the village, he followed the stone and dirt path that led to Kaiya’s farm. Shaking his head, he tried to suppress the thought that River’s most powerful ally was nothing more than a farmer. The path wound on, ranging from completely overgrown to barren in various patches. It appeared Kaiya didn’t travel this route often.
Finally Mel spotted a quaint little farmhouse in the distance. Its construction was simple, but the land surrounding it was breathtaking. It grew fertile and green as if the seasons stood still, providing this land with a permanence of springtime, just as the Vale had been. Mel marveled at the sight of apple trees in full bloom and cornstalks taller than himself. I guess it’s true that masters of air can control the weather, he decided.
To the side of the house stood a woman with violet hair, a single streak of silver weaving its way through the strands. She wore a plain ivory blouse and leather breeches, and carried a metal bucket in her hands. Three black dogs pranced playfully at her feet. Was this Kaiya, or was this some farmhand she had hired? Mel moved closer to her, wondering how such an average-looking woman could be so powerful.
It wouldn’t be long before Mel found out. From nowhere, a sudden tightness hit his chest, squeezing the breath from his lungs. Looking up, he saw Kaiya staring straight at him, her arms resting at her side. The spell she cast held him firmly in place, but she made no outward gesture to indicate she was using magic, save for the silver glow in her eyes.
Projecting with his mind, Mel said, I yield. At once the spell was lifted, and the elf breathed freely. The dogs moved closer to him, stopping halfway between the dwarf and the elf, barking as if they were about to defend against an attack.
Kaiya approached, her eyes intent on the intruder. Though he didn’t know how, he was sure she was reading his thoughts. He could feel her penetrating his mind with her own, but he was powerless to stop her. In her he sensed more power than he had ever encountered.
“You can just ask, you know,” he said coldly. “You don’t have to pry into my mind.”
Kaiya dropped the spell and narrowed her eyes. “I’m sorry, Master Elf,” she said. “The wind brings ill tidings, and there are strange creatures about in the land. Forgive my suspicious nature.” Reaching out a hand, she offered it to Mel in friendship.
Shaking the woman’s hand, Mel replied, “You don’t know the half of it.”
The dogs continued to bark until Kaiya demanded they stop. “To the porch!” she commanded, pointing to the house. The dogs obeyed without a second thought. “You are a friend of River?”
“I am,” Mel replied, a little surprised. She must have found the information in his thoughts. “My name’s Mel. Are you Kaiya?”
“Yes,” she replied. “And the girl? Who is she?”
Wrinkling his brown, Mel asked, “What girl?”
Pointing toward a tree, Kaiya said, “That girl. The one who’s hiding behind the tree.”
Mel turned in time to see Alyra stepping sheepishly from behind the tree trunk. Dumbfounded, he asked, “How did you get here?”
Stepping forward, Alyra replied, “I was afraid you couldn’t convince Kaiya to come with you, so I came along just in case.”
With Alyra so close, Kaiya recognized her instantly. “You’re Lenora and River’s youngest,” she said with a smile. “You were a tiny little thing the last time I saw you.”
Alyra blushed, embarrassed that she did not recognize the dwarf.
“Don’t worry,” Kaiya said. “You were too little to remember me.” She turned her attention back to Mel. “Why have you come here?”
“River asked me to,” he explained. “Ulda has attacked the Vale, and the Spirit has been killed. He has a plan to stop him, but it requires all four elements.”
Kaiya dipped her head in understanding. “He needs four elements to conquer the fifth. These are dangerous times.”
Mel wondered how she could know so much, but he swallowed the question, accepting that she possessed powers he lacked.
“My father is ill,” Alyra blurted. “He needs help, and my mother’s medicine isn’t enough.” She felt a little ashamed to admit it, but it was the truth. If Lenora could have healed him, she would have done it already. Kaiya was the most powerful sorceress Alyra had ever heard of. If anyone could help him, it was her.
“I see,” Kaiya replied. “You can help me with that.” She gave the girl a crooked smile, attempting to keep the mood playful. The child was already worried enough. “Let me fetch my bag,” she said before disappearing inside her house.
Mel looked over at Alyra, who was wringing her hands and looking at the ground. “Your parents are probably worried sick,” he said.
The girl did not look up at him.
“Were you following me the whole time?” he asked.
“No,” she replied, still looking away. “I was in front of you for a while.”
Kaiya reappeared with a large leather bag slung across her back. “All set,” she said. To Alyra, she said, “Can you help me collect some medicine for your father?”
Alyra nodded quickly, eager to help.
“Good,” Kaiya said with a wink. “We’ll just head to the small creek where the snow melts from the mountain tops. The water there is special, and it will help your father.”
The young elf girl rushed forward, grabbing Kaiya firmly and squeezing her. “Thank you,” she said with tears gleaming in her eyes.
“Your father will be fine, Alyra. I promise.” Motioning for Mel to follow, Kaiya led her guests northward, away from her farm. “The Blue River has its source in these mountains,” she explained as they walked. “The water there is pristine.”
“That explains the waterfall,” Mel commented. “It wasn’t filthy like the river water below. It has been tainted by Ulda’s magic.”
“Maybe we can fix that too,” Kaiya said. She had next to no experience with water magic, but if there was a way to cleanse the water without controlling it, Kaiya would find a way. It was the least she could do for an old friend.
Arriving at a small, rocky creek, Kaiya fished in her bag for a vial. “Take this,” she told Alyra. “Fill it with water.” She handed the vial to the girl, who eagerly grabbed it from her hand.
Alyra stepped carefully over the slippery rocks, her toes feeling the cold water through her soft slippers. The water trickled down the side of a large rock formation, and Alyra looked up to see the snow-covered caps of the Wrathful Mountains. It amazed her that such a small trickle could turn into the falls and river below where she made her home.