At River's End

by Lana Axe

  Prin hurried away from the coast, making his way to the breeding pits. In the days since learning of his defeat, Ulda had stepped up production of his creatures to prepare for the impending storm. Though he had expected the majority of those who had gone to the Vale to return, that simply wasn’t to be. The elves harbored a deadly secret—a sorceress who had mastered air. Her strength, combined with the skill of the elves, had proved too much for Ulda’s minions.

  For days Ulda had dwelt on the image of the woman in his orb. At first he had dismissed her, but he soon blamed her entirely for his defeat. Prin would stand silently by and watch as his master became obsessed with revenge. This dwarf, he claimed, had cost him what he wanted most: elven souls to add to his collection. Ulda still harbored a deep resentment of River, but his defeat at the hands of a woman, not to mention a dwarf woman, was more than he could take. Drunk with his desire for revenge, Ulda had not left his laboratory since. Prin expected his master would either finalize his secret plans or kill himself in the process.

  Only moments after arriving at the pits, the wyvern and its rider touched down. Clearly exhausted, the sorcerer stepped off his mount and slowly approached the wyvern cage. Struggling with the latch, he opened the door, allowing his savior to step inside. Immediately, the beast devoured a pile of meat left behind by the other creatures in the pen. The pair had embarked on a long journey over open sea with no time to stop for nourishment.

  Prin approached the sorcerer as he secured the cage door. The man had dark circles beneath his eyes and a pallid complexion. His robe was covered in dirt and the remnants of greenery from the forest. Though he was weary, he attempted to stand tall as the servant approached.

  A rain barrel stood nearby, and Prin grabbed the metal cup that floated at its surface. Filling it with water, he passed it to the sorcerer. “I’m surprised to see you,” he said.

  “I must speak with Master Ulda,” the man said after taking a long drink.

  “I don’t think that’s wise,” Prin cautioned. “He’s quite angry with all of you. It might have been best if you’d chosen not to return.”

  “I am a loyal servant,” the sorcerer replied. “I must give my master a full account of what occurred.”

  “He’s already aware,” Prin replied. “He observed the entire battle in his orb.”

  “The shaman?”

  Prin stared at the sorcerer blankly. He had heard nothing of a shaman, only Ulda’s ramblings about the dwarf. “What shaman?” he asked.

  “The one who woke the dryads,” the sorcerer replied. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Did you miss the destruction of the ship?” Prin asked. “Were you not driven away by the air sorceress?”

  The robed man shook his head. “The earth wizard was far more powerful.”

  “Impossible,” Prin replied, despite his uncertainty. Ulda had clearly sensed the power of the dwarf, and her battle skills had drawn most of his attention. Had he observed the actions of an earth wizard, he had not informed Prin.

  “I must see Master Ulda,” the sorcerer insisted.

  Prin shook his head, deciding not to argue further. Spinning on a heel, he led the weary traveler across the yard and inside the tower where Ulda was hard at work on his plans.

  “He might refuse to see you,” Prin cautioned. “He’s a busy man.”

  “The information I carry is vital,” he said. “You must convince him.”

  Prin dismissed the words and continued ascending the spiral staircase. The sorcerer grabbed his arm, nearly knocking him off his balance. Grasping at the handrail, he barely stopped himself from falling. “What do you—” he started to say.

  Staring intently into Prin’s eyes, the sorcerer said, “It is imperative you convince him to speak with me,” he said. “His life depends upon it.”

  “I’ll do what I can,” Prin replied, his tone annoyed. Being grabbed by the arm was not to his liking. He was beginning to hope Ulda would teach this man a lesson.

  The sorcerer released Prin’s arm. “Our master is in great danger,” he said in a softer tone. “You of all people should want him safe.”

  Prin eyed the man suspiciously. It was possible he really did have important information. However, that would not quell Ulda’s anger upon seeing one of his disgraced sorcerers. As far as Ulda was concerned, all of those who had been sent to the Vale were dead. He had no intention of launching a rescue. They had failed him, and that was the end of it.

  The two men continued up the steps, finally arriving at the landing in front of Ulda’s laboratory. Prin hesitated, his hand poised over the door. Glancing at his companion, he finally gave a swift knock. No voice sounded from the other side. After a moment’s wait, Prin knocked again and pushed the door open a tiny bit.

  “Master?” Prin called inside.

  “Can’t this wait?” Ulda shouted back. He stood with his shoulders stooped, poring over his work. The edges of his robe were creased, as if he had repeatedly crumpled it in his hands.

  “Forgive me, Master,” Prin said. “I have someone here who wishes to see you. He says it’s a matter of some urgency.”

  “Who is it?” Ulda asked, his patience already gone.

  Prin realized he did not know the name of the sorcerer who was standing next to him.

  “It’s Varl,” the sorcerer called inside.

  “Impossible,” Ulda huffed. “He’s dead.” He did not look up from his scrolls.

  “No, Master,” Varl said. “I survived the battle. I’ve come bearing news you must hear.” Boldly, the sorcerer stepped inside, pushing his way past Prin.

  Prin followed him inside, maintaining a safe distance for fear of Ulda’s wrath. He had no desire to be struck by whatever might come flying in Varl’s direction, magic or otherwise.

  “Master?” Varl said.

  A low growl sounded in Ulda’s throat. Why did they insist on interrupting his work? Could they not see he was not interested in their company or conversation? Spinning around, he shouted, “Fool! How dare you flee from the battle? You were to stand your ground!” With heavy steps, he marched toward Varl, his dark eyes piercing the sorcerer’s soul.

  “I beg your forgiveness,” Varl said, falling to his knees. “There was no more I could do, and I knew someone must make it back to warn you.”

  Ulda threw his hands up in frustration. “I witnessed the battle. Your words are not necessary. Go!”

  Varl stood back up, pleading with his master. “Master, please hear me out. There are things you did not see.”

  Ulda narrowed his eyes as he looked upon the sorcerer. “You doubt my abilities?” he asked, his voice low and quiet.

  “No, Master,” Varl replied. “The dwarf caught your eye, as well she should. But there was another, an earth mage.”

  “I sensed nothing of the kind,” Ulda replied, waving his hand. Had there been another master wizard, Ulda would have easily sensed him. No living creature with power of any consequence was immune to his keen senses. Turning his back to the sorcerer, he headed back to his desk.

  “Master, it was a Wild Elf,” Varl continued, hoping Ulda was still listening. “He is a shaman. He summoned the dryads.”

  “That’s very amusing,” Ulda replied. “But you’re wasting my time. Can’t you see I have work to do?”

  “Master, they are uniting the elements,” Varl said, his voice passionate. “It is their ploy to defeat you.”

  Ulda looked up and stared out the window toward the sea. Unite the elements? Would that truly pose a threat to him? The thought sent a wave of uncertainty through his mind, and the hair stood on the back of his neck.

  “It is the water elemental’s plan,” Varl continued. “I’m certain of it. He thinks that the combined elements can destroy you. Why else would two strangers be present in the Vale at this time?”

  “Perhaps they are friends of his and nothing more,” Prin offered, seeing that his master was becoming anxious.

  “Normally,” Ulda began, “
I would kill you for deserting your post.” Spinning around, he looked at Varl, who bowed his head. “This information is useful to me, so I shall allow you to remain alive.” Taking a few steps toward Varl, Ulda asked, “How many elven souls did you bring me?”

  Varl swallowed hard before replying, “None, Master. I failed you.”

  Ulda slowly shook his head and pressed his tongue to the back of his teeth. Looking at Prin, he said, “I should have sent you. Though you have few magical skills, you are at least loyal.”

  Prin inclined his head slightly in appreciation. “It is an honor to serve you.”

  Taking in a deep breath, Ulda let out an audible puff of air. “This earth mage of yours,” he said. “He was too insignificant to draw my attention. What makes you think he has some hidden power?” The idea of uniting the elements had merit, but River was not a true elemental, nor were his friends. Four true elementals would certainly pose worthy opponents, but one hybrid elf and two master wizards were nothing to him.

  “I did not sense any magic in him myself,” Varl stated. “Though my powers of perception are far below yours, I am normally aware of any wizard in my vicinity. From him I sensed nothing. His power must be deeply rooted to be so well hidden.”

  Ulda placed his hand against his chin and rubbed it nervously. The power emanating from the dwarf had been almost overwhelming. He couldn’t help but look her direction. Perhaps she had shielded the shaman’s abilities from Ulda’s gaze.

  Approaching his orb once more, Ulda peered inside, willing it to show him the events happening in the Vale. Focusing his mind to the shaman, he brought Mel into view. His appearance was less intimidating than the dwarf. The elf was slight of build with no particular fire in his eyes. Ulda did sense magic from him, but it was no more significant than any other wizard. In his opinion, the shaman couldn’t possibly be a master of earth magic. The power Ulda sensed was far too weak.

  “Have you ever studied earth magic?” Ulda asked.

  “Only as a young student,” Varl replied. “I did not have much talent for it.”

  “I have mastered it,” Ulda stated. “It’s simpler than the others. You grab some magic from the ground and draw it through yourself. It provides little satisfaction.” The sorcerer spoke more to himself than anyone else. If Varl was correct, how could this elf pose any sort of threat? “What other spells did you see him cast?” Ulda asked.

  “None, Master,” Varl replied. “I glimpsed him shooting a bow before he summoned the dryads. After that, I saw very little.”

  Ulda sighed. “An archer,” he said, shaking his head. The image of Mel disappeared from the orb. “This man is nothing to me,” he said. As the words escaped his mouth, he remembered something from his training centuries ago. There are those so attuned to the earth that their magic is nearly imperceptible, even to the mightiest sorcerer. These earth wizards gave no outward signs of magic until they cast a spell. At that time, they could call upon powers seated deep in the ancient foundations of the world. Ulda felt himself shiver. Could River have found such a person and recruited him to his army?

  Prin sensed the heaviness in the air brought on by Ulda’s shifting mood. Glancing over at Varl, he suspected the sorcerer could feel it too.

  “Leave me,” Ulda commanded. The two men did not hesitate this time.

  Leaning against his desk, Ulda considered the possibility of River and the others standing against him. They had water, earth, and air. All they lacked was fire. Did they intend to travel to the Red Isle and recruit a true fire elemental? Ulda dismissed the idea. It would be far too tedious, and elementals would not be easily convinced. River had nothing to offer it.

  Scanning his memory, Ulda’s mind turned to thoughts of Telorithan, who lived less than a day’s travel from the Vale. True he had worshipped the man as a child. In every way, Ulda desired to be like Telorithan. It wasn’t until he had nearly completed his training to become a master wizard that he realized he could exceed everything Telorithan had ever accomplished. He still admired and respected the sorcerer, but he had no need to imitate him. Ulda was already far more powerful than his former idol.

  Ulda ran down the list of what he might be facing should an invasion end up on his doorstep. River was weak without the Spirit, of that much he was certain. Should he venture to the ocean, he would become stronger, but he would never again possess the strength he once held. The air mage was nothing but a dwarf. Ulda was convinced he could defeat her easily if given the chance. The shaman’s power barely registered, and earth magic took a long time to induce, so Ulda felt certain that he could defeat the elf as well. That left only Telorithan, should River manage to bring him to his side. He could pose a significant threat, since he still possessed an elemental within him. Confident in his own abilities, Ulda yearned for the chance to face the infamous wizard. What better way to prove himself once and for all?

  Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Ulda attempted to refocus on his work. The answer was so near he could almost grasp it. If he could unlock the secret of his masterwork in time, no army could hope to stand against his own. Now, more than ever, he needed to complete his research.

  Chapter 18

  Alyra threw open the door of the wide silver tree that served as the House of Medicine. Inside, Lenora had already made preparations to receive the wounded. She and the other healers of the village stood inside, awaiting the arrival of wounded soldiers.

  “I have him,” River announced as he stepped through the door, his son still slung over his shoulder.

  “Bring him here,” Lenora said, approaching one of the cots. Near the bed she had placed several vials of liquid and bundles of herbs.

  Rogin groaned slightly as his father placed him on the cot as gently as possible. His skin was pale, and he had lost a frightening amount of blood in his encounter with the wyvern. Lenora immediately examined her son, checking his pulse and breathing patterns while River held pressure against the wound. Alyra stood to the side, her eyes wide, fearing that her brother was slowly slipping away.

  “Can you heal him?” the girl asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

  Placing her right hand over her son’s heart and her left upon the puncture in his side, Lenora spread white magic throughout his body. Focusing on the wound, she cleansed it with magic and sealed it to stop the bleeding. “He will need time to heal, but he will survive,” she announced, the tension draining from her voice.

  River squeezed his son’s hand and looked at his life mate. “You must save your strength,” he said. “There may be many wounded to treat.”

  Lenora nodded slowly. She knew well she couldn’t use magic for all her patients. It took a great deal of power to cast healing spells of such potency, and she would exhaust her supply and herself, rendering her too fatigued to work. She had to save her strength if she was going to tend the injured.

  Releasing his son’s hand, River said softly, “It is time I gathered the final member of my party. We mustn’t delay our march against Ulda.”

  With her eyes closed, Lenora drew in a deep breath. “Be careful,” she managed to say. It was the only advice she could give. The man he was about to encounter was dangerous, and River was still weak. Knowing how powerful his two companions were, Lenora hoped they would be able to stand against Telorithan should things go awry.

  To Alyra, River gave a stern look. “You must stay here and help your mother. Do not follow me, and do not sneak away.”

  River was rarely strict with the girl, and she felt the seriousness of his demand. Quickly nodding her head, she agreed. This was one time she would choose to obey.

  River stepped outside the House of Medicine as a wave of injured elves and Na’zorans were carried his direction. There were many more than he expected. Standing aside, he allowed those who bore the injured to pass by him. There was nothing he could do to help. Lenora was the best healer in the Vale, and she would give them their best chance for survival. River briefly wondered how many might lay
dead in the woods, but he pushed the thought aside. He had to focus on the task ahead.

  To his relief, he spied Mel and Kaiya together coming out of the tree line. Both appeared unharmed. If anything, they appeared to have been rejuvenated by the battle. Mel stared at the bow in his hands, marveling at its construction, until River caught his attention.

  “It’s time,” River said as he approached.

  “For what?” Mel asked.

  Kaiya rolled her eyes and shook her head. “To join with the fourth element,” she explained. “You don’t think very far ahead, do you?”

  Mel shrugged. “I’m kind of figuring things out as I go,” he said. Looking down at the bow once more, he still couldn’t believe he had been able to use it. At least his years of training hadn’t gone to waste. “I think I’ll hang on to this,” he said. “Just in case.”

  “Don’t bring it along to meet Telorithan,” River requested. “He is immune to those weapons, but he will see it as an insult nonetheless.”

  “I’m ready to leave,” Kaiya stated. The others nodded in agreement. Together the three made their way across the village and down the sloping hill to the riverbank. The sight of clean water brought tears to River’s eyes.

  “You two did this,” he said, his breath escaping. “I did not have the strength. My people thank you.”

  Kaiya reached up to pat his back. “It was our pleasure,” she replied, glancing at Mel.

  River held his hand above the water and summoned a small amount of magic. The spell was simple—one he had performed hundreds of times with little effort. Though it took more power than usual, he was able to raise a raft from the depths.

  “Not bad,” Mel said, attempting to encourage his ailing friend.

  Kaiya shot him a sideways glance. Men are so tactless, she projected with her mind.