by Terry Brooks
They climbed into the mountains all morning, ascending until they were through the first of the passes and deep amid the highest peaks. The air was thin, and breathing came hard. It was cold, too, and Kirisin shivered inside his tightly wrapped travel cloak. All around him the sky was a clear, bright blue, and the brilliance of the light caused him to squint sharply as he walked. He felt the solitude of the rock and the earth close about him like a wall, but was not afraid.
He thought of his parents more than once, wishing he had been given a chance to say good-bye to them and to explain what he was doing and why. He thought of how relieved they would have been if he had been able to tell them what had happened. He worried that something bad would befall them because of this failing, that Arissen Belloruus would find a way to make them suffer for what he perceived to be their son’s treachery.
Mostly, he thought about the King, who now, almost inescapably in the light of everything that had happened, seemed the demon that had hidden itself among them.
When they stopped at midday to consume a short lunch, he could contain himself no longer. “I just don’t see how anyone but Erisha’s father can be the one who’s responsible for what’s happened,” he began all at once.
Angel shook her head. “I don’t like it that he’s so obviously the right choice. Ailie was right. Demons do everything they can to shift suspicion from themselves when they’re working in secret. That’s been their history since the beginning.”
They were eating from a loaf of bread and a hunk of cheese and washing it down with Elven ale, sitting up on the rocks in the lee of an overhang that provided some shelter from the wind. Even so, their words were carried away almost as soon as they were spoken, and they had to lean close to one another to hear. Overhead, sparse clouds spun like great, frothy pinwheels, caught in the air currents generated by the peaks.
Kirisin shaded his eyes from the blinding orb of the sun. “But the King was the one who told Erisha not to pursue the Ellcrys’s plea for help. He was the one who told me not to do anything or tell anyone until I heard from him, and then I never heard a word. He was the one who lied to me about what he and Erisha knew. Even when you and Ailie confronted him, he tried to cast doubt on what you claimed. He blocked every attempt to find the Elfstones.”
“He also stood to gain from the deaths of Ailie and Erisha,” Simralin added. She handed the aleskin to Kirisin, who drank deeply. “Sooner or later, he would have been placed in proximity to Ailie, and she would have exposed him if he was a demon. You said as much yourself, Angel. And killing Erisha gave him a way to blame us for what happened and force us to flee. Now he can hunt us down and kill us, and no one will do anything to stop him.”
“Culph was probably killed because he discovered the truth,” Kirisin continued. “He was still poking around in the histories, trying to find out something more about Elfstones. He probably got caught where he shouldn’t have been.”
“Arissen Belloruus hasn’t been himself for some time now, but more so of late.” Simralin took back the aleskin from her brother and passed it to Angel. “He was always high-strung and temperamental, but in recent weeks he has been especially edgy. Everyone could tell that something was bothering him.”
They stopped talking and waited for the Knight of the Word to say something in response. Angel shrugged. She adjusted herself on the rocks, putting aside her food. “Demons live long lives. This one is probably very old and has been in place for a long time. It is a changeling, so it would have assumed various identities over the years, switching off one disguise for another when it became necessary or convenient to do so. It could have been an animal as easily as a human. Changeling demons can take the shape of any living creature. But this is what you should remember. The reason they make their choice of disguise is what matters. This demon was set in place to keep an eye on the Elves, to make certain they don’t interfere in the affairs of humans, to keep them in their Cintra enclave until it’s time to dispose of them for good.”
The Elves stared at her in disbelief. “What do you mean, dispose of them?” Kirisin managed.
Angel paused, choosing her words carefully. “The demons and their kind have a very specific goal—to eliminate the human race. They are doing so in a variety of ways, but however they achieve it they want us all dead. When they finish with us, they will go to work on the Elves. They leave you alone for now because you don’t present an immediate threat. I didn’t even know you existed until Ailie told me. You are only a myth to humans. You work hard to keep it that way, mostly by staying apart, staying hidden. That serves the purposes of the demons exactly. By the time they come for you—which they will—there won’t be any humans left to take your part. You will be on your own, and you will be overrun and destroyed. Every last one of you.”
Kirisin looked as if he had been struck a physical blow. “They want to kill us all?”
Angel nodded. “The Void’s path is one of destruction.”
“Is this the destruction the Ellcrys was warning us about?” the boy pressed. He was trying to make sense of what he was hearing, but its implications were so overwhelming that he could not. “The end of the world she says is coming?”
“I don’t know.” Angel resumed eating, her face maddeningly calm given the pronouncement she had just made. “Destruction comes from any number of sources and in any number of ways, and it is hard to know which form the one that finishes us will take. The Knights of the Word have struggled long and hard just to contain the demons and their armies of once-men. But we lack the ability to see far enough ahead to know what most to fear.” She bit off a chunk of bread and chewed. “It takes every ounce of energy we have just to try to keep alive those the demons hunt.”
“And now they hunt us,” Simralin said quietly.
Angel Perez smiled bleakly. “Now they hunt us.” She paused, her expression changing suddenly. She pointed down the slopes of the mountain. “In fact, they hunt us even now.”
Kirisin felt himself go cold as he looked to where she was pointing, somewhere off in the heavy forests of the lower slopes. But he saw nothing. Simralin, however, was on her feet. “Movement,” she acknowledged. “You have good eyes, Angel. We must go at once.”
They set out anew, working their way ahead through the peaks, still traveling east. Their progress was steady, and the long sweep of the western forests soon disappeared from view behind them as they began their descent of the eastern slopes. Ahead lay miles and miles of high desert—the trees sparse, the soil a mix of volcanic emission and dust, and the land arid and barren. If they were forced to travel through it, the going would be difficult. There would be little to eat or drink, and little cover.
They walked until the eastern sky turned dark and twilight began to settle in across the mountains, the shadows lengthening and the air cooling enough that they could see their breath. They were close to the edge of the mountain range, but still high up on the slopes and far from the desert flats. Behind them, nothing moved against the wall of the mountains. Neither Simralin nor Angel had said another word about their pursuers, so finally Kirisin asked.
“It might be that they have turned another way or stopped in the cradle of the peaks for the night,” his sister suggested when he asked her of the danger. She smiled. “Don’t worry, Little K. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
He wished she wouldn’t make it sound as if he were so needy, as if he were still just a boy and not capable of looking after himself. But he held his tongue. Sim was only trying to reassure him that he wasn’t alone in this. She was just being his big sister.
It was almost dark when they finally stopped on her signal. She stood looking back up the slopes of the mountains behind them, searching for movement, for an indicator that there might be pursuit. Kirisin sat down heavily, his legs and back aching, his stamina sapped. He felt drained, both physically and emotionally. For all that he knew he could take care of himself, it had been awhile since he had been forced to do so and longer
still since he had made so demanding a trek. A trek, he reminded himself, he was just beginning.
Angel walked over and crouched down so that they were at eye level. “I think we have gone as far as we can without knowing something more about where we need to go.” Her dark eyes held his. “Can you make your Elfstones reveal where the Loden is concealed?”
Simralin looked over at them. “She’s right. We need to figure out how the Stones work. Do you have any ideas? Did the histories or Culph tell you anything that would help?”
Kirisin shook his head doubtfully. He didn’t know anything, of course. All his energy and attention had been directed at finding the blue Elfstones. He had given little thought to what would happen once that goal was achieved.
“I guess I can try,” he said.
He reached down into his pocket and extracted the Elfstone pouch, loosened the drawstrings, and spilled the contents into his hand. It was the first time he had looked at the Stones since he had come into possession of them. Three identical gems, cut to the same shape and size, glowing a bright blue, they glimmered softly in the failing light. With the other two peering over his shoulder, Kirisin studied them intently, drawn by their rich color and almost transparent quality.
What to do? He held the stones out in the palm of his hand, where all three companions could admire and consider them. But looking at them did nothing to alleviate his confusion. He glanced at the others, and then closed the stones away in his fist. He tried squeezing them, then rolling them between both palms, and finally jiggling them softly in the cup of his hand. The Elfstones did nothing. He tried casting them on the ground, rolling them as he might a set of dice. Nothing happened. He tossed them and caught them. Nothing. He tried using them one at a time. Still nothing.
“I don’t know what else to do,” he admitted finally.
“Keep trying,” Simralin urged.
“I don’t know anything about Elven magic,” Angel said quietly, “but with the Word’s magic it is first necessary to visualize what it is that you want to happen.”
Kirisin looked at her, thinking about how that might work.
“We want them to show you how to find the Loden,” Simralin cut in. Her eyes continued to scan the mountainside, which was very nearly dark now with the westward passing of the sun. “Try picturing that.”
“But I don’t know what the Loden looks like.”
“Maybe all you need to do is to imagine the Elfstones showing you the way to where the Loden is hidden,” Angel suggested. “Maybe knowing exactly what it looks like isn’t important. There must be a great many things that someone using these Stones wouldn’t have seen before.”
“She’s right,” Simralin interjected quickly. “They’re seeking-Stones. They should be able to find anything you can put a name or a face to. Just try.”
“But what am I…?”
“Try.” Angel added emphasis to the word. “I don’t want to frighten you, Kirisin, but we don’t have much time. I just caught another glimpse of whatever follows us coming out of the pass and across the open slopes.”
Kirisin glanced westward into the mountains despite himself, a chill running down his spine. He wanted to ask what their pursuer looked like, but knew it could not appear as more than shadowy movement from this distance. Demon or Elven Hunter? He glanced down at his fist and brushed at his mop of dark hair in frustration, wishing he understood even a little of the skills necessary to what he was trying to do. But no one had held a set of Elfstones in thousands of years, so there wasn’t much point in wishing for help of any sort. Someone had to learn the process anew, and it looked like it was going to be him.
He thought about it a moment more, his brow furrowed, the Elfstones clutched tightly. Picture what it is you are looking for. Put a name to it. How difficult could that be?
He held out his hand and closed his eyes. His concentration locked down on what it was he wanted the Elfstones to do. Show me where the Loden is hidden. Show me how to find it. He pictured the three of them traveling toward another Elfstone, one that glowed as brightly and deeply as these, one just as perfectly formed. He gave it a color, and then changed it several times. He imagined the forest and the mountains giving way before them. He imagined darkness and mist falling back before sunlight.
His hand tightened further.
Suddenly he felt something change, a shift that he could not put a name to. Then he heard a sharp intake of breath from one of the women.
His eyes snapped open.
His entire fist was bathed in a deep blue glow. He almost dropped the Elfstones in shock, but managed to keep from doing so by reassuring himself that the glow wasn’t hurting, that his hand felt all right, that this was what was supposed to happen.
In the next instant, a shaft of blue light exploded from his fist and lanced away into the darkness north, cutting through everything that lay in its path—through trees and mountains and earth, just as he had imagined it would—dissolving away all obstacles to stretch into a distance that he could not begin to measure. From the speed it maintained and the ground it covered, it seemed a long way, a vast reach through the night to a singular peak that rose in snowcapped magnificence against a clouded sky. The light found the peak, held it momentarily, and then moved high up onto its slopes and into caverns that were studded with stalactites dripping with moisture and brightened only faintly by phosphorescence glowing in bright streaks along their walls. The light held this vision for a long moment, flared once as if to punctuate the importance of its revelation, and then went dark.
Kirisin had held his ground through all of this, but now took a step back, nearly falling over in the aftershock of what he had witnessed. Simralin caught his arm, steadying him as she did so.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he gasped, swallowing.
“Did you see that mountain, Little K?” his sister whispered.
He nodded. “I saw. A mountain with some caves. A long way off, I think.”
She grinned, sharing her pleasure with him. “Not so far. I know that mountain. I know where it is and how to get there.”
“Then maybe it would be a good idea if we got started,” Angel suggested, nodding toward the darkness of the Cintra and whatever was tracking them.
Without waiting for their response, she shouldered her pack and started away, moving north.
Kirisin dumped the Elfstones back into the pouch and shoved the pouch into his pocket. “You know that mountain?” he asked Simralin, falling into step beside her as she moved after Angel.
His sister glanced over. “You know it, too, even though you’ve never been there. That’s the mountain where Father and Mother wanted to establish the new community of Cintra Elves before Arissen Belloruus rejected the idea.” She smiled broadly and reached out to squeeze his shoulder affectionately. “That’s Syrring Rise, the mountain our parents called Paradise.”
HIGH ON THE SLOPES above them, lost in the darkness of the thinning forest line, the demon put its hand on Delloreen to stop her forward progress. She responded immediately, a shiver running through her. Once, had anyone or anything touched her, she would have responded much differently. But this one knew how to touch her in a way that gave her such pleasure, even in the smallest brushing of clawed fingers, that it made her instantly want more. Already it had taught her more about pleasure than she had imagined it was possible to learn.
“Not too quickly, pretty thing,” her demon whispered in that rough, soothing voice. “Let them go on a bit before we follow. Let them be.”
She did not want to let them be. She did not want to waste another moment tracking them. She wanted to catch up to them and tear them apart, especially the female Elf who had taken her eye. The knife had blinded her; she would never see again out of her right side. It had been luck, nothing more, but it was done and her sight was gone. Her rage would not be quenched until she had tasted the Elf’s warm blood.
“Does it hurt still?” the other asked her softly.
O
ne hand came down to stroke her scaly head, lingering near but not touching the wound. The hand that had extracted the blade and stanched the flow of blood and taken away most of the pain, she thought absently, reveling in its feel. The hand that gave her such pleasure when it touched her.
“You are so eager to kill her, aren’t you?” the other said. “But now is not the time. Everything is happening as I intended it should. We have them fleeing the safety of the Cintra. We have them alone and cut off from any help. We have them responding to the incentives we have given them. All we need do is be patient. When it is time, you may kill them all.”
Delloreen’s growl was a mingled hiss and purr. She showed her teeth and panted softly.
“Lead us down into the trees,” it instructed her. “We will make our bed there for the night. We will rest and resume tracking when it is light. Their trail will be easy to follow. Their scent will be unmistakable. But we will stay safely behind them and out of sight.”
Delloreen accepted this. She knew that they could not escape her—that once she set her mind to it, nothing ever escaped her. But the urge to kill was strong, and she felt itchy and restless within her scaly body.
She looked up into the eyes of her companion and let it see her need clearly. The other demon nodded.
“Go, then. Do what you must. There will be other prey for you besides our little Elves and the Knight. Take what you need elsewhere, but leave them be for now.” It bent down and kissed Delloreen on the muzzle. “Go, but come back soon.”
Her blood was hot with expectation and her body taut with the thrill of the hunt as she bounded away into the night.
