Cathadeus_Book One of the Walking Gates

by Jeff J. Peters

  “It was pretty amazing.” He stretched his legs. “Of course, it would’ve been better if not for those vipers.”

  “Yeah, but we beat ’em off. Although having you blast those first few caught me by surprise.”

  “I think it was that last wave that swung the battle.” Bellnella rubbed down Hawk. “You have a powerful gift there, Braxton. I am honored to have flown with an Elhunarie.”

  He smiled awkwardly, self-conscious at her sudden change in attitude toward him. He preferred it when she thought him like everyone else—just another human who deserved to have his heart tested in her presence.

  “We’ll rest there,” Bellnella said, pointing to three gray pavilions at the back of the rock shelf that blended into the mountain. Large, makeshift roosts lined the camp, filled with leaves, sticks, and grasses from the mountain crevices. The rest of the area was open, where elves came and went, staying only long enough to report in or to allow their mounts time to rest.

  “I’d love to be a Talonguard,” Phinlera said excitedly as they sat together in one of the tents. “The wind in my hair, the weightlessness, the diving and maneuvering of the giant birds. How do you become one anyway,” she asked Bellnella.

  “The eagles choose their rider when they hatch,” she explained. “Only children still learning to walk are selected, and we train together as we grow. It’s a lifelong partnership.”

  “Too bad.” She laughed. “I’d loved to have joined. What about you Brax?”

  He nodded. “Did you see the Min army? It was overwhelming.”

  “I know it seems impossible,” Bellnella acknowledged. “But we will succeed. The elves have always defended the trees. This time will be no different.”

  But Brax wasn’t so sure. He kept remembering the massive horde fronting the eastern edge of Arbor Loren, wondering how long the forest, and his mom, could survive.

  They left Bell and returned to the edge of the shelf, overlooking the battlefield and the sea of Mins extending into the Gap of Dunes.

  It was past midafternoon when Laefin flew in on Fletcher, standing on the giant eagle behind Neah and holding his bow. He jumped down before the bird landed and ran over to them.

  “We need to go west,” he said anxiously. “The feil is dying.”

  Chapter 36

  Thousands of bull-faced Mins stood in regimented block formation facing the elven kingdom and extending for miles north of Almon-Rin when Braxton, Phinlera, and two dozen Talonguard flew out over the Gap of Dunes. Like an endless sea, the thick, hairy creatures covered the ground as if the entire race of muscular beasts had flooded into the plains. Most had weapons of some kind—giant swords, axes, or halberds—while others wielded crossbows too big for a normal man to carry.

  The invading army stood back from the forest, out of range of the elven archers concealed beyond the feil. Bellnella drove Hawk past the Mins’ forward line, and Braxton could see where thousands of them lay dead in their repeated attempts to reach Arbor Loren’s protective barrier, pierced by the deadly accuracy of the elves hidden within. The feil, he noticed, extended now to the very edge of the forest, blocking all view into Arbor Loren beyond a few outlying trees. But it was clear that its strength was beginning to fade. Large black stains were visible at irregular intervals along its otherwise shimmering surface, patches of the woodland covering devoid of its normal magical life. The Mins had given up on their brute-force approach to defeating the forest’s shield or the endless barrage of arrows coming from the trees. Instead, large catapults fired burning pitch into the feil, diminishing its strength. The elves seemed defenseless against this new approach, unable to reach the Mins with their arrows and unwilling to leave the protection of their woodland home. All they could do now was watch and wait. It was only a matter of time before the feil would fall.

  As Braxton and Phinlera circled above, the Talonguard who had flown in with them from Ben-Gar broke to assault the Mins, joining others of their kind already engaged in firing an endless barrage of projectiles into their foe. But the effect was little more than an irritation to the expansive Min army—like biting flies trying to stop a herd of cattle from invading the plains—and the riders’ attacks were mostly ineffective. A few dozen of the creatures fired their crossbows back at the giant birds, more out of frustration, though, than any real attempt to hold back their assault.

  Catching a sudden updraft, Bellnella turned Hawk north before circling back east toward the Dunes. As they wheeled, Braxton saw for the first time the immense size and full extent of the great Dragon’s Spine Mountains, its endless spires and rocky cliffs extending far off into the distant horizon. Admiring their expanse, he began to sense something out of place, changed somehow from what he remembered before. Perhaps it was his new perspective gained from his elevated position? Or the fading light casting shadows on the peaks and causing them to appear different? Then he realized what he’d missed. Miles of broken rock extended from the foot of the Spine and past Almon-Tel, as if a great landslide had come down into the valley, pushing its rocky rubble deep into the Breaker Dunes.

  He looked back at the mountains, expecting to see a sheared-off cliff face or some other evidence of where the rocks had given way. But nothing seemed out of place, and the Dragon’s Spine stood as unyielding as before, apparently undisturbed by the avalanche he imagined. Even the small forest at its base seemed unaffected. Wouldn’t the trees have been felled when the landslide came through? Hawk turned south, and they flew back over the Mins’ front line, drawing Brax’s attention to Arbor Loren and the catapults’ barrage against the feil. The eastern edge of the forest seemed accentuated now by the flaming shot being cast upon its barrier.

  “Take me down to that lead catapult,” he shouted to Bell, pulling at her shoulder and summoning the spirit magic.

  She nodded. They started to dive, and Brax closed his eyes, drawing upon the power of the energy. When Hawk leveled out, he released the spirit magic into the closest catapult. There was a brief silence in which he thought he’d failed to summon the energy correctly, but then a thunderclap echoed across the Dunes as his target exploded, sending burning pitch and wooden planks flying in every direction. Flames erupted among the Mins, and they scrambled to extinguish the fires. But Braxton didn’t see it. He lay slumped over on Hawk, drained from the massive energy release, his body convulsing mildly and his temples throbbing.

  He shut his eyes, trying to focus and regain control. Instantly, he saw himself standing in that same hazy grayness he’d experienced twice before. The two figures were hunched over the table facing a large sapphire orb. They turned toward him, one then the other. He could see their pale skin beneath shadowy hoods, their eyes still hidden from him. They looked much like each other—delicate chins of young women who might have been pretty once, but whose cheeks were now drawn and heavily lined, their lips dark and thin. Long, black greasy hair hung down in scraggly strands around their faces. One of them lifted her arm and pointed a bony finger toward him. There was a flash of bright light, and he was back on Hawk, flying above the Mins in the dwindling light of the Breaker Dunes.

  Do not do that again, Serene said in his mind. They are watching for you now.

  Who . . . are they? He still shook from the energy’s release.

  The Witch Sisters of Dahgmor, ancient and powerful creatures from another time. Do not think of them, my child, and keep your energy close.

  He nodded, grateful for any excuse not to summon the spirit magic again. He wanted to retch, and it was all he could do to hold back his stomach. Below him, the catapult he’d destroyed still burned out of control, but others continued firing upon the feil.

  It is time now, Serene said sadly. Watch, child, and remember this moment.

  The catapults, which had been previously firing upon numerous points along the feil, changed their trajectory to concentrate on a single broad area of the magical barrier. Braxton felt a sadness well up inside him, as if something beautiful had passed from this world. A momen
t later, the shimmering light of the feil ceased its rhythmic flow, and a large, gaping hole appeared within the protective wall surrounding the elven forest. Thunder rippled across the Min line, followed quickly by the braying of many horns.

  The feil, Braxton realized, had fallen.

  The Mins rushed toward Arbor Loren, eager to do battle. A hundred yards away, a single long trumpet sounded from the elven kingdom, as if blown by a lone sentry. Thousands of arrows whizzed through the air, released from archers concealed in the trees. The Mins, running headlong into the defensive firepower of the elves, dropped in droves. But still they came; dozens ready to take the place wherever one of their brethren fell. For almost an hour, waves of arrows flew into the oncoming Min charge. And for a while, the elves held back their foe. But the Min numbers were overwhelming, and they swarmed across the Gap of Dunes toward the gaping hole in the feil that beckoned to them like an invitation to the woodland realm. Eventually, they reached the trees and with triumphant roars thundered past the fallen barrier and into the forest. The bowmen continued their attack from the gigantic oaks, dropping vast numbers of the beasts. Still the Mins flooded into Arbor Loren, eager to do battle.

  Then a low note sounded through the woods, drawn from the very earth itself, a sad and ancient call, like the moan from something old and long forgotten.

  “The White Horn!” Bellnella cried, and a cold shiver ran down Braxton’s spine. All of the Talonguard pulled up from the Dunes.

  The trees in Arbor Loren seemed to come alive, as if an enormously powerful gust of wind had suddenly blown through them, shaking their branches. Thousands of deathly screams echoed from the woods as the Mins were besieged on all sides by the trees themselves. Those still in the plains stopped short, fearful now of the horrific calls from their dying kin. For a long time, the forest continued its avenging assault, branches lashing amid the howling that filled the air. Braxton covered his ears in a futile effort to shut out the awful screams.

  Then it was silent.

  “I need to land!” Bell said anxiously. “Hawk . . . needs rest.” But Brax knew it was a weak excuse. Every Talonguard was flying toward the trees. It was clear none of them had expected to hear the call of the White Wood.

  Is the Fey waking? he asked Serene.

  It stirs deep within the earth. If they should sound the Horn again, it will awaken. It is our hope, child, that this will not come to pass.

  Will help come in time?

  We shall see. Go with your rider. I need to speak with another.

  They flew north and landed in Almon-Roe. Unlike the northern outpost they’d visited before, Almon-Roe was larger, with numerous homes and other buildings high up in its branches and at the base of its enormous oaks. Now, though, the city seemed deserted. The fighting, Brax knew, was closer to Almon-Rin, and the few home guard that remained were mostly sentries, resigned to watching the war from the north.

  Bell slipped from Hawk’s neck. “There’s a guesthouse in the side of that oak beyond the ladder.” She pointed to one of the rope bridges extending from their aerial platform. Unfastening the eagle’s straps, she spoke a few words to her mount in their native tongue and rubbed him down hurriedly. Then she ran off across the numerous bridges that interweaved among the trees and disappeared into the dense forest, leaving Braxton alone with the giant bird. Hawk eyed him suspiciously, as though considering his edibility, then hopped up into one of the enormous nests filling the surrounding trees, settled down, and began preening himself.

  Braxton looked around at the massive oak on which he’d been deposited, a hundred feet off the floor. The tree appeared to be one of several landing posts, with numerous platforms extending out at various intervals among its gigantic branches for the birds to land upon. Many of the nests were filled, with more Talonguard flying in all the time. Each rider jumped from their saddle, rubbed down their mount for a moment, and then ran off across one of the rope bridges into the trees. Arrow landed on an open platform in one of the aeries across from him. Brax called to Phin as soon as she’d dismounted and Tentalis had left, waving his arms to get her attention. She looked around for a way to reach him and shrugged. He indicated the rope ladders pointing to the guest oak Bellnella had shown him.

  They crossed the bridges, angling toward each other. Braxton stopped often, occasionally dropping to his knees to keep from falling off the floating walkways, which lacked railings of any kind. He sometimes preferred to crawl rather than risk standing upright. When he reached the guesthouse, he was perspiring profusely. He let out a sigh of relief. Phinlera was already there, equally pleased to be off the bridges, although her nimbleness had allowed her to cross more easily.

  “What do you think’s going on?” Phin asked, taking a drink from a waterskin she was holding before handing it to him.

  “Don’t know. Everyone just seemed to run off into the forest after the White Horn sounded.”

  “Must be some kind of call to arms. Not that they need any more reason to fight.”

  They ate some grains and fruit they discovered in the guesthouse.

  “How do you suppose we get down from here?” Phin looked around, noticing the lack of stairs of any kind.

  Brax shook his head.

  Laefin came running toward them, crossing the rope walkways, as easily as on the forest floor.

  “I’m glad you found your way, and something to eat,” he said when he arrived.

  “Bell directed me here,” Braxton commented. “But I don’t understand why everyone just ran off like that.”

  “Or where they went,” Phin added.

  “It’s the Fey Oath.” Laefin shook his head and sat down. “Most elves have never heard the call of the White Horn. It’s a defining moment for us. All will go to Fey Ethel and commit their lives in defense of the White Wood. Once we touch the Silver Towers, we dedicate our very existence to saving them. No one will leave Arbor Loren, nor will we flee before our enemies, no matter their number, even in the face of certain death. Every man, woman, and child in the forest will pledge to defend Fey Ethel, or die trying.”

  The strength in their friend’s voice and the intensity in his eyes showed the elves’ commitment to their woodland home, beyond anything his words alone could explain.

  “Before landing here, Neah flew me over the front line,” the elf continued. “It seems the Mins have pulled back for now. They’re afraid to enter the forest after losing so many to the trees. I think we’ve gained a precious moment of reprieve, but only time will tell what they plan to do next.” He stood. “Try to get some rest. I’ll join you in a few hours, and we’ll fly out to see what they’re up to.”

  He thanked them again for their help and then hurried back across the rope bridges, disappearing into the forest.

  Chapter 37

  The barrage began again at midnight. Great flaming balls of burning pitch shot high over the forest, cast out by the Mins’ catapults fronting the Breaker Dunes. The blazing projectiles lit up the night sky, blocking out the stars, their tails burning behind them like a shower of suns descending upon the elven kingdom. Braxton and Phinlera watched from the north, saddened by the vicious hatred the Mins seemed to harbor for the elves and their endless desire to destroy their woodland realm. Fires appeared among the trees, and thick plumes of gray smoke writhed above the forest like serpents let loose by the Min attack.

  Arbor Loren was burning, Braxton realized. He slumped down on the edge of the platform surrounding their guest oak and dropped his head. “Will it never end?”

  “Not until one of us is destroyed, I’m afraid,” Laefin said. Braxton looked up at their friend, standing beside him. “We should go and see what they’re up to. If you’re ready?”

  “Definitely!” Braxton got to his feet.

  It is time to cut the leash that guides this beast, Serene interjected. Tell the archer to give me one of his arrows.

  A rush of excitement flooded through Brax at the thought of his master’s intervention. He relayed her w
ords quickly.

  Laefin unslung his quiver and selected an arrow he thought worthy of the Elhunarie’s touch. Beautifully fashioned from some dark, old wood, it was perfectly straight and as smooth as polished stone, with three evenly placed eagle feathers—one tinged with white. The head was flawlessly set, cast from the same unusual metal the elves alone seemed to possess, forming an exact point. Accepting the arrow, Serene guided Brax to sit down and take several breaths. She shut his eyes, joined with his consciousness, and began blending her energy deep inside him.

  The spirit magic enveloped Braxton in rhythmic waves, starting slowly, but growing in intensity, connecting with him in an interweaving of human and magical forms. His thoughts cleared, and the recent memories that plagued him became locked away in rooms deep within his mind, their doors shutting to the emotions of those lesser experiences. He began to feel stronger, renewed, and bigger in both height and girth. And yet lighter too, that he might drift away among the stars. The sounds of the forest faded, replaced by a low, constant ringing in his ears and the vibration of the energy pulsating through his body.

  Serene continued her magical weaving, expanding the spirit magic beyond Brax’s form, radiating from within him like a lantern held aloft in the dark. Nothing seemed impossible to him in those moments he connected with his master. Even the Min invasion seemed so much less important now compared to the endless possibilities that seemed laid out before him.

  Gradually, he felt her ask him to step aside. He breathed in, drawing in the wondrous sensation of the spirit magic. He remained in the energy for a few more euphoric moments, wallowing in the experience. Then reluctantly he pulled away, drawing himself to one side of his consciousness and releasing the connection to his master, allowing her to fill the vacated space. She focused on the arrow, moving his hands up and down the shaft, feeling its hard, smooth surface. Ever so slowly, Serene began directing the spirit magic through Brax’s fingertips and out into the wooden form. She stopped often, he sensed, checking that the brittle timbers hadn’t split apart in their reforming with the magic’s power. Steadily she increased the strength, allowing the arrow to absorb more and more of her magical touch. All the while, she repeated words in Braxton’s mind that he didn’t understand but that sounded vaguely familiar to ones he’d heard her say before.