Allies & Enemies

by Cheryl S Mackey

  “Go!” Gabaran hissed. Grimy sweat streaked his skin, turning it darker. His arms shook, then his entire body. “Go now!”

  Jadeth heard the strain in the old Elf’s voice and reached for Jaeger’s arm.. They vanished into the image and appeared on the other side, trailing a sharp blast of hot wind in their wake.

  Ivo followed close behind, Emaranthe cradled close. Her faint breath rasped the skin on the side of his neck where her cheek rested against his shoulder. He halted beside the hunter and studied him with enigmatic eyes.

  “If you don’t join us she will be furious.”

  Gabaran barked a sharp, pained laugh, but his gaze remained on the portal.

  “Fear not, warrior. You are not rid of me as of yet. My work is not done.”

  Ivo nodded at the giant Elf and stepped through the portal.

  ***

  The portal collapsed behind Gabaran, leaving them in total darkness.

  Jadeth opened her mouth to ask Emaranthe for a light, but snapped it shut again. The sound that escaped was a strangled whimper.

  There would be no softly floating lamp tonight.

  “Where are we?” Jaeger asked. He turned on the spot, frowning at the impenetrable darkness. The air sat heavily on them, oppressive and thick.

  “We are within an hour’s walk to the enemy stronghold, I would guess,” Gabaran answered. “I tried to aim for a safe distance, but we are going nowhere tonight.”

  “We need a secure camp,” Jadeth frowned at the darkness, her sharper eyesight now of little use. “What do you suggest, Ivo?”

  Ivo exhaled, not bothering to look to his friends. The darkness hid their forms completely. They needed shelter, light, warmth. He glanced down. They needed Emaranthe.

  “We find a cave, or overhang, and wait until the morning light,” he said. “We need to see to her.”

  He turned and scanned the shadowed blobs that he hoped were rock formations. The closest was a few kilometers off, a great finger-like shape. Smaller ones dotted the landscape between it and them. “There. Come.”

  Jaeger shifted his axe to the other hand and paced beside his brother in the stifling darkness. The thick air made his skin within the armor crawl and for the first time he loathed it. Loathed the plates of metal, which had become like a second skin. The weight and heat had always been tolerated, it’s protection always appreciated, until now.

  “There, a second spire beside the bigger. We can shelter there,” Ivo said over his shoulder to the rest who had fallen behind in the blackness. “Jaeger start a fire, Jadeth come and help me see to her.”

  He didn’t speak to Gabaran, so the old Elf climbed to the top of the smaller rock spire and waited. He faced the dank breeze with closed eyes and a heavy heart only now slowing as if from a cruel race.

  “Is this it, Light? Is this my destiny?” he asked the starless sky, but no words of wisdom rained down. He hadn’t expected any, hadn’t thought She would answer an Exile. The gods had played a cruel trick on his people, and he half expected a fifth god to be no different. Yet, she had given him Emaranthe and had given him hope with nothing but a wide smile and kind brown eyes. His thoughts lingered on her, his memories untarnished in the 350 years since they had so fatefully crossed paths. Where was she now? Was she jumping through portals, through time and space, aiding those in need? Or was there some other game afoot, a game played only by gods?

  Head bowed, he wondered if she thought of him, too.

  “Destiny? What sour ale have you had, Old Friend?”

  The disembodied voice, sharp and familiar, jolted Gabaran into awareness. Pained humility gave way to voiceless rage.

  The air to his left rippled.

  His arm snapped out and his large hand caught hold. With little effort, he swung the owner of the offending words around and slammed him against the stones at his feet. Rock crunched and dust clouded the air.

  Dehil materialized with a choking gasp, his throat collapsing between the Exile’s long fingers. He didn’t bother struggling; it would get him nowhere.

  A sneer curled the smaller Elf’s lips up even as he blinked against the darkening edges of his vision.

  Gabaran snarled, “Dehil.”

  The crushing pressure vanished and air flooded Dehil’s lungs in a sweet rush.

  The whip-lean Elf choked back a raspy chuckle, but the sound faded when his friend did not relax into his usual annoyed grin.

  His sneer faded. He waited, but the old Elf didn’t move.

  “What is it?” he asked when Gabaran’s stony glare didn’t waver. “What happened? Did you not understand my clues? Of all people, I thought you would have figured it out.”

  Gabaran’s fingers twitched as if they ached to resume their strangling.

  “Clues? You fool! Your clues were almost too little, too late,” he said. He shifted until the wiry Elf could move without being in danger of strangulation. Again. “The game you play is dangerous.”

  Dehil shifted to a sitting position and resisted the urge to see just how far his windpipe had caved. Instead, he studied his old friend with a frown. The words stung; but the cold-white fury blazing in his friend’s gaze shook him.

  “Gabaran?”

  “Look behind you, fool. Tell me this is what you had in mind,” Gabaran dragged a hand over his eyes just as a flicker of firelight warmed the world within their circle. The golden light tossed a tangle of shadows like puppets trying to tell stories without strings. Dehil looked. Half hidden by the old Elf, he observed a scene that made his heart wrench.

  A tiny mage in an unnatural slumber.

  The giant warrior, his face a wreck of anguish.

  An Earthlander throwing his armor as far away as fast as he could rip the laces free.

  A beautiful Elf, her large sapphire eyes liquid with tears as she watched all three.

  “It wasn’t meant to be like this,” he whispered. “I swear, Gabaran. What happened?”

  Gabaran frowned. How would Dehil know what was meant to be or not? He ignored the odd sentiment. Sentiment had no place in their world. Instead, he leaped off the rock formation and landed obscenely lightly at the edge of the puddle of firelight.

  Dehil followed, his heart heavy, pounding, as he stepped into the light.

  A sharp hiss, far more deadly than a serpent, was the only warning before he was once again slammed into the rock. He hit hard enough to rain dust and tear muscle. Sapphire eyes, nearly black with fury, bored holes into Dehil’s. The painful grinding of his bones against the rock face was nothing compared to Jadeth’s anger and condemnation.

  “You! What sniveling trickery are you plying us with now, Coward?”

  He studied her wan face and dirty tears. Shame burned a hole in his chest. The choices he had made were ugly, unfair, and unforgivable, but they had to be. It was out of his hands now.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I will never forgive myself for what had to happen.”

  “You’re sorry?” she mocked. Her full lips twisted into a sneer. “I’m tired of hearing your lies, Dehil!”

  “I’ve not lied to you,” he replied. His long ears flicked, sagged. “Ever. I’m sorry if what I had to say and do were hard to accept. But I’ve never lied to you.”

  “Let him go, Jadeth,” Ivo said. “Can you and Jaeger find some water. I need to clean the blood off Emaranthe.”

  Jadeth released him so quickly that he stood as if still pinned to the boulder. She vanished into the darkness with a whip of a scarlet braid. Jaeger, now in his tunic and breeches, followed wordlessly.

  Dehil studied Ivo as he approached. He wished he hadn’t. A grim anger fought with a wild fear in the Earthlander male’s gaze. He was close to the end of his restraint. Too close. Dehil looked away.

  “Sit,” Gabaran barked from the shadows at the edge of the firelight. He tossed small twigs at the feeble flame with little care. He glanced over at Ivo and Emaranthe every so often.

  Dehil sat. His lean back dug into the jagged boulder. He hi
d a wince, his mouth pressed thin.

  “What happened?” Dehil had never seen his old friend look so weary. Or pained.

  “An accident,” Ivo said. He peered into the gloaming past the pool of light. “We were foolish and she paid for it.”

  Dehil nodded. He knew all about being foolish.

  It was always the innocent that paid the price.

  “Here,” Jadeth appeared beside Ivo, a scrap of sodden cloth held out. “There was only a small feeder stream. The river is fairly far.”

  Ivo accepted the wad of linen and dabbed at the smear of blood on Emaranthe’s face. She whimpered and twitched in his arms and Ivo stilled.

  She didn’t wake up and he continued to treat the small cut above her lip. By the time the small rag had been stained pink and the cut cleaned, Ivo’s hands were shaking.

  Jadeth took the rag back and sank down at the edge of the firelight beside Jaeger.

  It was going to be a long night.

  ***

  “Now,” Gabaran spoke, shattering the grim silence. “Where is my gear?”

  Dehil swallowed a bark of laughter. Leave it to Gabaran to harry him for his beloved bow and arrows at a time like this. He gestured to the long shadow thrown by the outcropping, and a bundle materialized where he had dropped it.

  Gabaran grunted, casting the younger male a frown before retrieving his few, precious, items. A threadbare satchel, a worn leather quiver bristling with thick arrows, and a large, hand carved bow quickly settled where they belonged on his person. The bulky cloak, so like Emaranthe’s, now laden with straps, belts, and ties, took on a more rugged and formal shape.

  The wild Hunter was whole again.

  The bow, as black as the night, was the last to return to its place on his back. For a long moment, a giant, scarred, hand held it up to the golden firelight for inspection. No lines of wear, nor nicks of carelessness marred its smooth yet ornate length.

  “Just tell me one thing, Dehil. Why?” Gabaran asked. He sank to his haunches near his old friend and waited. “Why play this game?”

  “I had to be sure you would join them,” Dehil replied with a grimace. He jerked his chin at the group huddled around the fire. “I knew nothing short of holding your gear hostage would do it.”

  “You didn’t know that Emaranthe and I were old friends, I take it?”

  Dehil snorted.

  “I knew. I know more than many think. A spy I am, after all,” he sobered and his laugh faded.

  “That brings another question to light.” Gabaran’s eyebrows marched upward, while his mouth turned south. “What is going on? Why do they hunt a map?”

  Dehil eyed his friend, all semblance of mirth traded for grim severity.

  “They must find the map to find a fabled city. Or the remnants of one, no one is truly sure,” he sighed. “If the enemy reaches it before us or our allies, there will be no saving Ein-Aral. We know not what exactly, but something there is the key to our survival… or downfall.”

  “By The Four, you lead me into a grim grandstand between good and evil, friend.”

  “Aye, and we six stand upon its pinnacle and await the hard fall to either side.”

  Gabaran ran a shaky hand over his scarred, lined face. “I am too old for this.”

  Dehil’s mirthless chuckle echoed across the desert.

  ***

  Dawn broke the clammy fingers of darkness and spread its veiled warmth from the north and south reaches of Ein-Aral. The stark cold, held at bay by the fire and the small woman curled senseless in his arms, returned with enough force to jar Ivo awake.

  The fire glowed, mere ashes now, and his arms were empty.

  “Emaranthe?” Ivo lunged upright, her name cried out in terror. He stilled and silenced his shout even as it left his lips. Bundles ringed the fire; his companions, save one, still slept.

  A slight shadow fell over him and he turned his gaze to where the southern sun peaked over the giant rock outcropping. At first, he thought the shadow to be that of cold stone, but his heart raced in his chest, his breath caught.

  Too slight for rock.

  Just right for a slender, fragile, Mage.

  He looked up and couldn’t hold back a grin.

  Emaranthe stood perched on the peak of the rock, her long hair wild and untamed on the fresh morning breeze. The strands rippled with a ghostly fire as they seethed and tangled; evidence of the return of her unusual power.

  “Emaranthe?”

  She didn't move for a long moment, and then tilted her head as if to study something only her eyes could see from such a height. Without warning, she stepped backward, her worn leather boots treading on empty air.

  Ivo twitched forward, but halted when her petite form blurred with a flicker of fire. She reappeared beside him and wound slim arms about his waist as far as they could reach.

  “What are you doing?” he asked. His heart bounced about in his chest, his breath thin with uncertainty.

  “This,” Emaranthe whispered. Her arms tightened. Her lips pressed into the cold iron over his heart.

  The bouncing turned into hammering when she twisted, pulling his giant frame with her. The ground beneath his feet tilted and time slowed. Fire threaded in ghostly ribbons around them, their stinging heat now a soft caress. Gravity peeled away.

  Ironbound arms surrounded Emaranthe, clutched her soft body with infinite care as they shifted through space. Time resumed. Two pairs of boots crunched red rock and the lingering ghosts of fiery power faded. Breathing heavily, they stilled in each other's arms.

  Far below their perch on the tallest rock formation, their friends slept on, unaware.

  Ivo tipped his head, bringing Emaranthe's face into focus against the brightening sunlight. They studied each other in silence.

  “I almost lost you,” Ivo's voice cracked. His arms tightened. “I can't...I’m so sorry. I don’t…”

  “Then don't,” she whispered. “Don't regret.”

  She leaped at him. Startled, he pulled her into his embrace and crushed her close.

  Soft lips snared his and the strength to remain standing fled. He crashed to his knees, his mouth held hostage by hers, his heart thrashing deep within an iron shell. He swore hers slammed against her chest in rhythm with his. He groaned when she lightly trailed her teeth over his bottom lip. He returned the motion, the spike of heat now nothing to do with her powers.

  “Woman,” he rasped into her mouth. “You undo me. You hold my heart and soul hostage!”

  Tears slid down a freckled cheek, catching the sunlight and warping the colors of the world into a prism. She mashed her body closer, as if to crawl into his armor with him, her breath a gutted sob of relief.

  “I have loved you,” she breathed the words against his mouth. His heartbeat tripled. “Since the night you first asked me if I was all right.”

  “I never knew,” Ivo rasped, out of breath, as hundreds of years of regret crashed into him. “I never dared you could love me, so I loved you from afar.”

  “How could I not?” Emaranthe asked. Tears brightened her stunning gaze as she pulled back enough to study his face in the morning light. The sunlight soaked into her skin as if to fill a vacuum, pulling with it the energy that cradled her soul with a very unique power. “You were ever my champion, the holder of my heart.”

  Small, gloved hands traced the lines trekking at the corners of his eyes, then the ones at the edges of his mouth. He held no notion that he was handsome; his skin browned and weathered by the sun, his jaw rough and scratchy. An aquiline nose ruined by more than one brawl and eyebrows grizzled with gray. His hair still remained a youthful black, but fell in shaggy strands to his shoulders. Or, more often than not, stuck up in sweat-streaked spikes.

  He held still, his wide gaze on her as she studied him, each golden glance like a warm caress when approval glowed from them.

  “I am old,” Ivo argued weakly. “Too ruined by war and guilt.”

  “Thirty summers is not so old that you dodde
r,” she countered with a smile. Fondness tempered with sorrow shaded her gaze. “I am the Youngest; my fate is undetermined in a world at war with evil. I have no memories to feel the stab of guilt over.”

  “You are young, but you are a woman grown,” Ivo said. His large fingers smoothed stray wisps of pale hair from her freckled cheek. “You are no more a girl than my brother, yet as the Youngest, you are known. I care not why. Your fate is twined with mine and together we will see it to the end.”

  Her smile crinkled her freckled nose as a fitful breeze tangled a streamer of blonde hair into the air between them. A ghostly curl of fire danced among the strands.

  “Then together we are, at last. Three hundred years of missed chances...”

  Ivo throat worked to swallow. His heart rampaged within his chest.

  Armor be damned...

  ***

  Jaeger shaded his eyes. He then rubbed them with a bare hand and tilted his head far back to squint up at the scene playing out atop the red rock spire. Disbelief rendered him speechless.

  A rarity picked up by one other.

  “Cat got your tongue this morning, Earthlander?” Gabaran snickered. He didn’t need to look up to know what was happening. For some reason, his mood lightened, and he didn’t even feel the need to crack Dehil’s skull against the nearest rock.

  Jaeger opened his mouth. Closed it. Then opened it once more. The only sound that escaped was a croak of disbelief. “I… she… they…”

  Gabaran’s eyebrows rocketed up when the stunned warrior finally looked away, his face scarlet.

  “Finally they figured it out,” he chuckled.

  Jaeger choked on a laugh. Or cough. “Figured it out?”

  “That Immortal or not, life is short.”

  “What does that mean?” Dehil asked from across the fire. He peeled one eye open. He didn’t shift from the pile of blankets he’d burrowed into in the dead of the night. The cold of the southern desert was as legendary as its deadly heat during the sun hours.