They left the clearing fronting the guest oak and followed one of the well-defined paths northward. Brax looked back a moment and raised a final hand of farewell to Pen. He wished they’d had more time together and that his brother was going with them. It would take over a week to reach the Dragon’s Head, Bendarren had told them. If they moved quickly. Braxton knew it wouldn’t be the first time he wished Penton was with him.
“You should arrive at about the same time that the Mins reach Arbor Loren,” Bendarren had explained. “Don’t worry about the elves,” he’d added privately to Brax. “Focus on the task at hand and on your connection with the One who walks with you.”
For a long time, Brax, Phinlera, and Ruskin followed the patrol through Almon-Fey, eventually coming within view of three gargantuan oaks, taller than anything they’d seen in Arbor Loren—even those at the entrance to Almon-Sen. These stood apart from the others, proudly reaching up to an open sky. Unlike the rest of the forest, they had white bark and leaves of the most vibrant green, as if forever in bloom. Within the vast spread of their branches, broad platforms supported numerous homes, each a smaller section to an entire elevated community. Dark structures fanned out around their giant bases, as though the roots themselves had risen up to form wooden buildings, and landings wound up the massive trunks to watchtowers looking out above the elven kingdom.
“That is Fey Ethel, the heart of Arbor Loren,” Laefin explained, leaning in closer to Brax and Phinlera as they walked together. “It is home to King Eilandoran and the elven council, and the source of the feil. So long as the three Silver Towers stand, Arbor Loren is safe. It is those that the Mins will try to destroy. If they do, our people and our kingdom will fall.”
Brax and Phin stared in silence at the great elven capital, for it was an impressive sight. They continued past, and the view of the city slowly diminished, until all that remained was an endless sea of green, flowing gently in the warm breeze. For a long time afterward, though, the white bark of Fey Ethel could still be seen shining between the darker pillars of Arbor Loren’s numerous trees. Eventually, the dense forest closed in and concealed the Silver Towers, shielding them within the endless embrace of its overlapping branches.
They followed Kael’s lead, with Ruskin taking up the very last position, muttering to himself as usual.
“Why does Kael keep raising his hand like that?” Braxton asked Laefin around midday.
“He is the Blademaster,” the young archer replied. Then seeing Brax and Phin’s confused looks, explained. “Although he wears Balen-Tar”—and the elf dropped his head in shame—“he is still respected by our people.”
“I still don’t understand why he’s raising his hand.”
“He is signaling his acknowledgment to the greetings from the elven warriors we’re passing. It is our way of replying in kind.”
“Who’s he talking to?” Brax glanced about. He hadn’t seen anyone else nearby.
Laefin smiled, shyly. “We’ve passed more than a dozen patrols since leaving Almon-Fey. Almost three hundred soldiers. They greet my father when they see him because he is the Blademaster.”
“Three hundred!” Braxton exclaimed.
“Yes, but I stopped counting a while back, so it could be more.”
“Have you seen that many?” he asked Phin as they continued on behind the young archer, somewhat embarrassed at his lack of observation.
“No, nowhere near that,” She shook her head and looked into the forest.
For the remainder of the day, they signaled to each other whenever they saw the elves, watching for Kael’s familiar gesture. Most were moving in small groups among the undergrowth or standing beside their path. Occasionally, they’d spot a silhouetted figure in the branches of one of the oaks, a quiet sentry observing their passage. When night came, they’d counted almost fifty more, a vast improvement on their earlier observation, but a far cry still, they guessed, from the real number.
The patrol stopped infrequently, walking late into the night and allowing only brief rests for the outsiders to regain their strength. Occasionally the elves handed food down the line—honey cakes, vegetable bread that smelled like lemons but with a sweet crust, and clumps of nuts and forest grains with sticky, sugary centers, like the ones Kael had provided during Brax’s training—encouraging them to eat as they walked.
Ruskin, however, was not impressed. He constantly complained whenever the food arrived, badgering the elves incessantly at the sight of every deer, rabbit, or edible-looking bird, trying unsuccessfully to borrow a bow. The elves pointedly refused, a few of them going so far as to call him a member of a primitive race. Eventually he gave up and took to picking large bunches of dark-purple berries that grew wild along their path or running off whenever he spotted some fruit-laden bush. He’d rejoin them later, carrying handfuls of his pickings and grinning through a stained beard, much to the dislike of the elves who considered the berries sacred.
They stopped at midnight to sleep, Kael permitting a few hours’ rest under the spread of some large oaks before waking them and continuing on. The food the elves shared revived them quickly, and the fresh, endless water from the skins Bendarren had provided helped banish their fatigue.
Braxton was glad Phinlera was with him and that Jenphinlin had allowed her to accompany them. He found his fondness for Phin growing stronger each day, holding her hand whenever their path permitted walking together. She returned his affections too, squeezing his palm or putting her arm around him each time she noticed some new animal, flower, or unusual tree that her keen eyes spotted, her excitement for these new discoveries contagious. Having Phin there felt like some small part of home walked beside him, supporting him and encouraging him on. And if not for the looming reminder of the confrontation with the Min army haunting his thoughts, or the numerous elves surrounding them, their journey through Arbor Loren might have seemed like just another trip together. He knew the feeling would be short-lived, though. Once they left the safety of the elven forest, things would change—and not for the better.
They continued searching for the elusive elves, trying to identify their individual forms from the otherwise endless cover of the enveloping green. It had been over an hour since they’d seen their last group, and Brax was about to suggest that they give up when Serene connected with him.
Look for their energy, she said.
What?
Do not look for their physical bodies, child. Look for the energy that radiates from within them. She can do it too, if she holds the Leaf they have gifted her.
Brax relayed Serene’s message excitedly to Phin, thrilled at the idea of sharing this with her. He summoned the spirit magic and was amazed at how quickly he could see the elves, the vibrations surrounding their physical forms easily identifying them from among the trees and undergrowth. It was more than that, though. Other woodland creatures—deer, rabbits, squirrels, birds, even smaller rodents—all became visible to him now, as if the covers of the forest had been gently pulled back to reveal the extensive life hidden within it. Even the leaves on the trees and the petals on the abundant flowers along their path were brighter and more vibrant. Every life seemed to emanate some form of the spirit magic, and for a few moments, the world appeared much clearer. But the strain of trying to maintain the high energy while following the elves and not walking into Laefin ahead of him proved challenging, and eventually, Brax’s concentration faded. With it so did the luminescence of the forest. But for those brief, uplifting minutes in which he’d connected completely with the energy, time seemed to slow, and Braxton felt as if he’d taken another big step in a much larger world.
Phinlera had experienced it too. Not to the extent or depth to which Braxton had, but for several indescribable seconds, she saw the forest in an entirely new light.
“That was incredible!” she exclaimed, her arm still bent over her shoulder, grasping the hilt of the Leaf. “I can see now why you say this is a part of you, Brax, and that you need to follow this pat
h. It felt like something wonderfully new was being revealed to me. That I was opening my eyes and seeing life properly for the very first time.”
“I know,” he said simply, pleased that she’d been able to see the energy and for her enthusiastic response. “It gets even better with practice.”
“I’ve never felt anything like that before or even knew it existed,” she went on.
The spirit magic dwells within all living things, Serene explained. She confirmed too what Kael had said, that the Unicorn Blade, and even the sword given to Phinlera, were doorways into seeing that energy—portals into a much greater world they were just beginning to understand.
Chapter 27
For the next two days, they traveled north through Arbor Loren. Serene spoke often with Braxton, guiding him to maintain sustained periods of connection with the spirit magic, teaching him how to direct the energy inside his body or pass it through his feet and into the earth. She showed him how to use the energy to strengthen his muscles and to sense movement before his eyes could register them. The high energy created moments when the forest seemed to come alive. Other times, it concentrated more within, filling Brax with such an uplifting feeling that he thought he might float off the floor. He began to walk more confidently through the forest, especially at night, instinctively stepping to avoid a broken branch or to soften his already silent footfalls.
Whenever they stopped, Kael taught him how to use the Unicorn Blade in combat, often having him practice fighting with Laefin or one of the other elves. The Blademaster watched Braxton closely, adjusting his stance or grip, showing him how to recognize his opponent’s intent, and the best actions to deliver precise strikes in return. Most importantly, he helped Brax connect the energy from his heart center to the spirit sword, and to feel it as a natural extension of his body—all the while reminding him to breathe.
But he never dueled the Blademaster.
Simultaneously, Jenphinlin spoke quietly to Phinlera, helping her to join with Shelindûhin. She showed her how to use the weapon for defense and, to a lesser extent than the Unicorn Blade for Brax, as a source to connect with the spirit magic. Phin was excited to find that if she concentrated her entire thought and emotion on this one single purpose, she could very briefly touch the energy and experience that same radiant vibration she’d felt before. The effort took enormous focus, though, and she soon became drenched with perspiration. Mostly, she learned how to fight with the Leaf, uncovering from her elfling mentor the true secret of the weapon’s inner power.
“It has the most amazing ability in combat,” she said to Brax but wouldn’t elaborate. “I want to surprise you.” She smiled and kissed him on the cheek before changing the subject. But she never told him what she’d discovered.
* * *
By the time they reached Almon-Tel in the late afternoon of their third day, Braxton could sustain the spirit magic for several hours while walking along their winding path, often going for extended periods without rest. He constantly felt the energy flowing through him, penetrating deep inside and joining his mind and body together. Even Phinlera discovered she could more easily call upon it, summoning the spirit magic for brief moments of awed experience whenever she touched the Leaf, carrying the sword protectively on her back.
Ruskin, though, remained reclusive, disappearing into the forest or following way behind the line. It wasn’t until they reached Almon-Tel and gained their first view of the towering peaks of the Dragon’s Spine Mountains, looming majestically over the northern edge of the forest, that the dwarf’s mood improved considerably. The sight of those ancient and familiar monoliths bathed in sun and towering toward the open azure sky seemed to energize their friend, causing him to move about eagerly or call ahead to their woodland comrades to quicken their pace. The cliffs appeared to awaken in him some long-forgotten memory, returning unexpectedly to his consciousness and bringing with it a palpable desire to be in their company.
Almon-Tel was smaller than any of the other elven towns they’d visited and built entirely within the trees. There were no buildings in open glades. No eating halls or wooden guesthouses near the base of the oaks, and no outlying homes. One moment they were alone in the forest, and the next, they stood within a large circular perimeter of a few dozen inhabited trees supporting several small, elevated platforms and a single building high up in the canopy. All were connected by suspended walkways, giving Almon-Tel an almost weblike appearance. The outpost had a purposeful feel to it, for protecting the northern edges of Arbor Loren. There were no flower-adorned homes or leaf-thatched buildings, and even the familiar elven singing that graced so many other parts of Arbor Loren was absent. Instead, the elves moved about hastily, running from one tree to the next over the intertwining wooden pathways, clad in forest gear and carrying spears or longbows.
It was the elven aerie, however, that drew their attention—a single giant oak at the center of the perimeter and taller than all others. Huge nests rested among the tree’s massive boughs, but it was their occupants that awed them the most—enormous majestic eagles, each the size of a horse, with golden feathers that glistened in the bright afternoon light. Pure-white heads gave the birds a regal look. Their intelligent eyes, in dark contrast to their bright surrounding feathers, looked down at the newcomers’ arrival, moving their powerful beaks or stretching their massive curved talons in warning. Most sat in pairs, a few calling out, signaling in a deep, rich cry that echoed throughout the forest.
Brax and Phin stared up in wonderment as their elven companions quickly ascended the oaks. An Almon-Tel soldier ran across a thin tendril to the aerie and swiftly mounted a leather harness attached to one of the gigantic birds. The elf leaned forward and spoke to his mount. The creature let out a high-pitched call that reverberated across the outpost then leaped into the air, pushing off from its perch with two powerfully clawed feet. Spreading its golden wings, the magnificent eagle began to circle skyward. When it reached the canopy, it gave another long call, turned south and disappeared from view, carrying the mounted elf above the trees.
“Wow, that was incredible!” Braxton said.
“They are Talonguard.” Laefin dropped down next to them from a nearby oak. “This city is one of several such outposts in Arbor Loren.”
“Can we take one of those?” Brax asked hopefully. “It’d certainly cut down on our travel to the Dragon’s Head.”
“My father considered that.” The young archer glanced up. “But he decided it was too risky. The goal, if you recall, is to reach the Walking Gate undetected, and flying out across the Breaker Dunes or above the Dragon’s Spine for all the Mins to see was not his idea of secrecy.”
“Too bad,” Phinlera said. “I’d love to have flown one!”
“Ha, not me!” Ruskin folded his arms. “Wouldn’t trust my life to one of those stupid creatures. Probably pecks at you whenever it gets hungry. A bit like tying a rabbit to a fox, hey?”
“Actually, they’re quite intelligent,” Laefin explained, “and they never attack their riders. The soldiers train with them from a very young age, and they adopt each other—rider and mount—in a lifelong partnership in service to the forest.”
“Bah!” the dwarf responded, turning back toward the mountains. “Where is your father?”
“He’s coming. He’s just talking with the captain of the outpost.”
It was nearing sunset when Kael and several of the patrol returned. Braxton and Phinlera had spent most of the time watching the eagles, occasionally walking around the clearing to stretch their legs or sitting with Laefin on a fallen log near the edge of the clearing, looking up into the oak.
Ruskin paced incessantly, staring at the mountains or grumbling into his beard. “About time we left,” he chided when Kael arrived, puffing his chest to confront the taller Blademaster.
Kael smiled at the scowling dwarf. “Bendarren gave me this to give to you when we parted.” He took a small, black leather pouch from his tunic. “But this seems a more fitti
ng time.”
“What now?” Ruskin snatched the object from the elf, clearly frustrated. “Probably some stupid elvish lore written down for a dwarven king who couldn’t care about such pleasantries.” He pulled at the straps. Then stopped short and stared down at his hands, the top flap of the bag folded back to reveal its contents. The dwarf’s entire body seemed to ease, releasing all the frustration of the past few weeks. He looked up at Kael.
“Bless you, lad,” he said, his eyes softening. “Bless you.” He embraced the elf, wrapping his short, powerful arms around the Blademaster’s waist.
“What is it?” Braxton asked.
“This,” Ruskin replied, holding up the pouch, “is the true wealth of this accursed forest. The one thing that makes this whole damned journey worthwhile.”
The elves laughed at his somber remarks, talking to one another in their woodland tongue and gesturing toward the crazy dwarf. Ruskin ignored them, sat down on the makeshift bench, and admired his prize.
“It’s pipe leaf,” Laefin explained. “Treasured, you can tell, by our dwarven neighbors.”
“Oh, this is more than just pipe leaf, my boy.” Ruskin kept his eyes on the package. “It’s forest bloom, the greatest tobac in all of Andorah. A treasure beyond all the jewels beneath the earth.” He extracted his pipe from under his belt and began cleaning it.
“Dwarves believe our forest leaf has healing properties,” Laefin added. “And it may, for all we know. Elves never get sick.”
“It has medicinal purposes,” Ruskin assured them, wiping off the rinsed pipe before discarding Bendarren’s waterskin.
Braxton smiled as he watched his gruff friend reopen the pouch, extract the minimum amount of leaf necessary, and place it into the vessel. A moment later, he had it lit and sat back, taking long, soothing draws that he savored before exhaling smoke rings up into the trees.
Cathadeus_Book One of the Walking Gates Page 17
