The Crescents

by Joseph R. Lallo

  Ether stepped forward. Nehri eyed her warily. The shapeshifter reached out and barely brushed the fur of her hand. She then shut her eyes as if savoring the aroma of a heavily spiced meal.

  “It is true. It is woven and folded with generations of lesser beings, but Nehri has the blood of Lain in her past.”

  “Amazing…” Myranda said. “I never dreamed Lain might have had children. And that they could have survived and thrived. It breaks my heart to realize he never knew… And that… Forgive me if my words are unkind to those you credit with protecting you, but it is further heartbreaking to know what your loyalty to the D’Karon cost the bloodline, and nearly cost the world. Lain was Chosen. His children, their children, and so on down the bloodline could have been Chosen as well. But loyalty to the D’Karon robbed them of their right to be. It was darkly brilliant of the D’Karon, and it nearly left the world without enough Chosen to defend it from them.”

  “Ivy spoke of this. And she showed me the mark. You’ll understand if I do not abandon my faith on the word of a few outsiders.”

  “Of course we understand. But I’ve seen where you and the others must have lived before. And I’ve seen how the land is barely recovering from the damage the D’Karon did.”

  “There is no other way. We would have been wiped out if we did not hide ourselves.”

  Myranda held out her hand. “Then perhaps the time has come to stop hiding yourselves.”

  Nehri glanced at the offered hand uncertainly. “The elves sent you here, not knowing what we are. Now if they knew, you cannot believe they would do anything less than exterminate us.”

  She lowered her hand. “The elves reached out to us, including Ivy. Things are changing. That you’ve killed some of their people will not go unanswered, but there is no shortage of your blood on their hands. D’Karon magic is not the answer anymore. Relying upon it is killing your people just as surely as the elves would. If you need an advocate among the elves, I will speak for you.”

  “First you offer your aid to our enemy. Now you offer your aid to us. How can anyone trust you?”

  “My goal in life is to heal the damage of the last war and prevent the damage of the next. What I do for you and what I do for them are only to further that cause. It is the right thing to do. It is what must be done.”

  Nehri looked at the position of the sun. They had been speaking for some time. “Soon I shall need to return to my home,” she said. “I drained the gem in my attempts to reach you before you reached my people. Do I have permission to charge it sufficiently to make the return trip?”

  “As you wish,” Myranda said.

  Nehri took the gem in hand and felt the familiar hunger tug at her soul. With practiced focus, she choked off the flow of energy, lest it drink too deeply, but for once she allowed herself to fixate on the physical and spiritual sensation. What Myranda suggested, even if it was an impossible dream, was a world where she would never need to feel the withering touch of a D’Karon gem again. A world where the shrine would need no offerings, where lives were not shortened and the land was not weakened by the endless hunger of the gems. It was a tremendous risk, certainly. But was it really more dangerous for her people than the plan looming over them?

  “Your words have the ring of sincerity, Myranda. I dearly want to believe what you say can be so. And it speaks to your dedication that you would risk searching us out despite your condition.”

  Myranda’s expression became more serious. “My condition?”

  Deacon spoke. “Myranda hasn’t been feeling well. Do you have some insight into this?”

  “I may not be familiar with humans, but I am a malthrope, and a priestess besides. I would be a poor example of either if I did not know the scent of a female with child.”

  Myranda placed her hand upon her midriff, eyes distant and expression complex. Beside her, Deacon practically threw his book aside and fumbled for his crystal.

  “It’s been… it must be nearly three weeks since… And the way you’ve been feeling…” he said.

  She shut her eyes. Deacon’s crystal flared. After a brief moment of analysis, Myranda opened her eyes again and looked Deacon in the eye. There was the shortest moment of tension, as though something very important had been left unsaid, but the moment passed and Deacon threw his arms around her.

  “This is wonderful. This is wonderful!” he said.

  Tears came to Myranda’s eyes, and she returned his embrace. The two sobbed joyfully.

  Nehri smiled, bemused that two who seemed so wise and powerful could miss something so precious. It was heartwarming to see the layers of diplomacy and negotiation dissolve into the simple joy of pair of parents learning of the blessing they had received. She had seen the same look upon the faces of her own people a hundred times over. These were humans, creatures who in her mind stood beside elves, dwarfs, and nearly all other species in their monstrous and ravenous desire to see malthropes killed. But in this way, they were the same. Perhaps in other ways as well.

  “You have given me a great deal to consider, Myranda. All of you have. But even with all you have said, this is not a decision I can make alone. Too many lives hinge upon the wisdom of the choice to be made. I must return to Den. I must speak with the others of my village. I ask that you remain here. Give me two days. Cease your searching and do not try to follow me. I shall return with my answer.”

  “Of course. Of course, you shall have your two days,” Myranda said, her voice still thick with emotion.

  The priestess clutched her gem tightly. It had not drunk its fill—doing so would have weakened her greatly—but it had borrowed enough of her strength to cast the spells she would need to return to Den before the setting of the sun. She let the spells fall into place. They did their work, fading her from visibility. The world around her shifted to the ghostly form she perceived when hidden. For a moment she lingered, waiting to see if these strange outsiders would gather their mystic paraphernalia and attempt to follow, but they merely continued to rejoice. The only exception was Grustim, who after a few seconds, voiced his concern.

  “Two days gives them ample time to plan for us,” he warned.

  “If they choose to act, we shall act, but trust must begin somewhere,” Myranda said.

  Nehri turned and dashed toward home.

  Trust must begin somewhere…

  #

  Reyce watched the sun sink in the sky as he stood outside the door of Ivy’s hut. Boviss loomed at the edge of town, licking the blood of a recent kill from his chin.

  “What is keeping her…?” Reyce rumbled. “If your allies have hurt her…”

  “They haven’t hurt her, because they wouldn’t hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it,” Ivy said.

  “It is nearly time for the ceremony. Our people are already beginning to gather.”

  Ivy crossed her arms. “Maybe she’ll have come to her senses and there won’t be a ceremony.”

  Reyce looked in the direction of the shrine. “There shall be a ceremony.”

  Voices rose and heads turned. Nehri sprinted toward the edge of the village. She’d abandoned the veil of invisibility when she’d crossed into their territory, but the violet glow of D’Karon magic accompanied her preternatural speed. The glow and the speed slipped away as Nehri approached Ivy’s hut. She was dusty and winded, but her expression was unmarked by the shadow of anxiety and conflict that had hung over her for months.

  “Reyce!” she called, stepping up to him. “I am relieved to find you here and see you’re unhurt. You were gone far longer than you had indicated.”

  “There were matters that needed tending to,” he snapped. “Is it true that you abandoned your village to seek out these Chosen, these former keepers of Ivy?”

  “If I hadn’t, they would have reached Den by now. Reyce, we need to discuss the assault. I realize it is an act of profound optimism to suggest it, but I believe it may not be necessary.”

  “The assault is not for discussion,” Reyce said. “Read
y yourself for the ceremony.”

  “Reyce, I have spoken to them. Dragons, wizards, a warrior. They even had fairies with them. They listened to me. Their ways are different than ours. They are steadfastly against the D’Karon and their teachings—but they say they are willing to stand for us. There is already no going back, after what we did to the villages to the south. But at least this way we may avoid further violence. Or perhaps we can at least delay it.”

  “There shall be an assault, and it shall not be delayed.”

  “If there is the chance that our people do not have to go into battle, then isn’t it our duty as their leaders to pursue it?”

  “The D’Karon will protect us. Our victory is assured.”

  “If we throw ourselves off a cliff, the D’Karon shall not protect us. They give us strength. They do not reward the foolhardy. Meet these people for yourself. Hear their—”

  “The golem is already on the move, Nehri,” he shouted.

  Nehri stepped back as if struck. “Already… But we aren’t nearly prepared.”

  “We have the weapons. We have the training.”

  “But we haven’t got the magic yet. The plan for the assault required us to use the D’Karon portals to reach the isthmus en masse. In our current state, we won’t be able to deliver half of our people there.”

  “We have the means to charge the crystals we need and hundreds more,” Reyce said. “We could even prepare a gem to bring the golem to his target in hours rather than days.”

  “How?”

  He looked to Ivy.

  Nehri’s expression hardened. “No… Reyce, that is not our way. Our people freely offer their strength to the shrine. Ivy has not embraced the D’Karon teachings.”

  “We do not have the luxury of holding fast to our beliefs anymore, Nehri. The golem is walking. It will reach South Crescent, and it shall leave a trail of devastation behind. The elves will respond. There will be war. What we do now shall decide if we survive the war or not.”

  “But to draw that much power from a single person. It will kill her. She is one of us.”

  “Lives were always going to be lost. We knew that when we formulated the plan. But if sacrificing an outsider means saving the rest of us, then it is a noble act and one that any malthrope should gladly perform for her people.”

  “At least let me talk to her. If she will do so willingly—”

  “Whether she will do so willingly or not, she shall be given to the shrine.”

  “Reyce, please. We are better than this—”

  “Not today, Nehri. Don’t think it doesn’t tear my heart from my chest, but today we must be the monsters of nightmares, or tomorrow we shall be nothing at all. You are the priestess, I am the chieftain. It is your place to protect our souls, it is my place to protect our bodies. I need you to be strong. If we live to see tomorrow, it will be the work of a lifetime to cleanse our souls of the stain we earn today.”

  Reyce turned to the doorway and set his gaze on Ivy. She had been watching with increasing concern, unable to understand their words but horrified at the story their body language told.

  “Take her to the shrine,” Reyce ordered.

  The two guards at the door turned and took Ivy by the arms.

  “What is going on? What are you doing?” Ivy insisted. “Just tell me what you are doing! Nehri, talk to them! You met my friends, didn’t you? You know they’ll help.”

  “… I’m sorry, Ivy,” Nehri said, tears streaming down her cheeks. “We are beyond help now…”

  The priestess hurried forward and shouted orders to the keepers of the shrine. Reyce kept pace with the guards and endured Ivy’s pleas. As they wove through the city, the bell rang for the evening ceremony. The people of the village began to gather, but rather than the reverence and serenity they typically showed at this solemn time, there was confusion stirring among them. When Ivy saw the doors of the shrine opening, she realized what was happening.

  “I won’t let you do this,” Ivy said.

  Her voice was serious and steady with the hint of threat. She dug her heels into the soil and effortlessly brought both guards to a stop.

  “It must be done. If you wish to protect your people, then you must offer your power.”

  “Not like this. Not with D’Karon magic.”

  Reyce barked an order. Several more villagers peeled off from their places around the shrine to help. They lifted Ivy from the ground. Red light flickered around her in thin, fast-moving streamers. When they crossed the stone threshold encircling the shrine’s grounds, she visibly shook in pain. The shrine door was wide open, the day’s offering already being helped away. From inside, violet light from half-filled crystals swelled into a brilliant glow, feeding hungrily on the energy pouring from Ivy.

  “No!” she cried. “You will not offer me!”

  A rush of red aura accompanied the outburst, pushing back those who carried her and dropping her to the ground. The villagers backed away as she stalked viciously toward Reyce. He drew a blade from his belt and brandished it, but she darted forward and swatted it aside with a swift backhand. He retreated cautiously as she stepped forward.

  “You…” she fumed, eyes radiant with the building anger. “Ever since I was rescued, and all through my youth, I heard about what monsters malthropes were. I heard about their dishonesty, their viciousness. I heard that they were thieves and killers. But I never dreamed I would meet a malthrope like you. The damage you’ve done to your land has been out of ignorance and necessity. But this… to push away the hand of friendship and embrace the forces that are sapping the strength of your own people. Seeing what you are capable of makes me ashamed to be what I am. And I am through with you.”

  She moved suddenly. Reyce prepared for an attack, but she rushed past him and quickened her pace toward the edge of town.

  “Stop her!” Reyce ordered. “By any means necessary! She must be offered to the shrine! Today is the day of battle. Without her, we shall not be prepared!”

  The bravest of the villagers fetched ropes and nets. Some gathered gems to cast spells. Every attempt to capture her or slow her brought a fresh rush of red aura, a surge of energy, and a snarl of mounting anger. She quickened to a sprint, easily outpacing the villagers rushing from the shrine. Reyce snatched a bow from one of the guards nearby and readied an arrow. He doubted it would have been possible to strike someone with an arrow and not risk killing them, but the raw power and strength of this outsider made it clear anything less than a direct strike to her heart would be unlikely to do her much harm at all.

  Reyce let the arrow fly. His aim was true, but Ivy’s speed took her farther out of position than he could have predicted. The arrow tore a gash across her side. She cried out and turned. Her eyes were piercing points of red light now, her face a mask of rage, but she shut her eyes tightly and forced some measure of control over herself. She continued her escape at a still-quicker pace. Ahead of her brilliant form was nothing but the open fields surrounding Den. Then, in an earthshaking crash, Boviss dropped down before her.

  The massive dragon was enough to stop her in her tracks, but the aura around her didn’t lessen. She glared furiously at the beast. He grinned back at her and addressed her in her own language.

  “There is the strength I felt,” he rumbled. “Such a sorry beast to hide such power away.”

  Ivy growled and dashed aside to get around him. He leaped with a speed that seemed impossible for so enormous a creature and swatted her to the ground. She cried out, more in anger than in pain, and the aura intensified. Boviss brought his iron claw down atop her, pinning her to the ground. She cried out again, her voice almost lost behind an unholy roar of anger.

  “Do you really have more?” Boviss taunted. “Can you really be so pathetic that you have so much power inside of you, but you refuse to use it?” He snarled, pushing more weight atop her.

  “Let me go!” she screamed.

  Reyce finally reached the edge of the village, but he could come
no closer to the spectacle awaiting him there. The energy pouring from Ivy’s body was unbearable. The ground was sizzling, and her aura was so bright he had to shield his eyes. Behind him, the shrine was glowing brighter than he’d seen it in years, and each moment fed it more of the rush of energy.

  “Boviss, we need her alive,” Reyce called.

  The dragon’s eye shifted to Reyce, his unnerving grin widening a bit.

  “You want her power. I want to see her power. I will release her when she shows it to me.” He looked to her and lowered his snout until it nearly touched hers. “I want to see what the best of you can do against me. I can learn from that. I can use it to destroy her friends.”

  Ivy screeched again. This time there was no voice, no mind at all. It was a sound of distilled, unbridled fury. She lashed at the claw holding her to the ground, and Boviss’s whole massive frame lurched into the air. He toppled aside with enough force to buckle the roofs of the nearest huts.

  She rose from the ground and drifted a few inches above it, baking the soil beneath her black. Any thought of escape had been washed away by the need to destroy this beast who assaulted her. He rolled to his feet and swatted at her, but she darted nimbly aside and raked her claws along his flank.

  Reyce watched in awe as the clash played out. He had never seen Boviss move with such speed and power, nor had he ever seen such raw fury in his eyes. Each blow the supernaturally empowered warrior delivered did the work of a siege weapon. Armored scales that had turned away a thousand arrows and endured the claws of dragons a match for his size split and splintered. Thick, dark blood began to flow, fueling the dragon’s rage all the more.

  Ivy’s power became more savage, more potent, but it came at the cost of speed. Boviss landed a few devastating blows of his own. Ivy struck the ground, then launched skyward again, leaving a smoldering crater behind.

  The battle thundered nearer and nearer to the edge of the village. Boviss, in a bid to gain some time to recover and plot his next blow, flew from one side of the village and set down on the other. Combat had sapped enough of Ivy’s strength that she could no longer will herself from the ground, so she thundered toward him.