The Quest (The Hidden Realm Book 5)

by A. Giannetti

  “I have rescued her body, but Torquatus may still have robbed me of the woman that I loved,” thought Elerian sadly to himself.

  “Have you the heart to tell me how were you captured and brought to Tyranus?” he asked, hoping to discover what was troubling her.

  “There is not much to tell,” replied Anthea in a downcast voice. “On the night of my capture, I had a glass of wine as usual. I suspect now that it contained a physic, for I barely drained my glass before I fell upon my bed and entered a deep sleep. As in a dream, unable to command my thoughts or actions, I watched with my third eye as the shade of a man entered my room. I could not see his features, for mage sight, as you well know, does not endow one with any ability to see clearly or hear. “My abductor picked me up and, after a time, gave me to a Goblin who appeared suddenly by his side. Somehow he brought me in an instant to Torquatus.”

  “He must have used a portal to transport you,” suggested Elerian. “What happened then?”

  “I sensed from the Dark King’s thoughts that he wanted my necklace, but somehow it resisted him and his servant without any order from me when they tried to take it by force. I was taken then to another place where I think some sort of cover was placed over me, for I often saw the shade of a monstrous creature leaning over me, attempting unsuccessfully to reach me with its claws and teeth.”

  “You lay beneath a crystal dome when I found you,” said Elerian quietly. “Having sealed you off from air and sustenance, I think that Torquatus expected that, in time, you would perish from hunger or thirst.”

  “My pendant would have slain me first,” replied Anthea grimly. “Still beyond my control, I could feel it drawing out my life force bit by bit to maintain the spell it had cast to protect me. I was a hairsbreadth from death when you woke me.”

  “It was most fortunate that Ascilius was by my side at that moment,” replied Elerian fervently.

  “I will have to tell him how much you appreciated his help,” suggested Anthea, a ghost of her old mischief lightening her somber voice.

  “I will deny it,” replied Elerian firmly. “His head will swell so much that his helmet will no longer fit.” Looking sidelong at Anthea, Elerian saw only a half-smile on her face and a distant look in her eyes as if her thoughts were elsewhere.

  “I had best not tell about the severed fingers that were used to torment her father and brother,” thought Elerian to himself. “There was nothing she could have done to prevent it, and it will only deepen the shadow that lies over her.”

  “Why do you think Dymiter gave me such a dangerous gift with no instruction in its use or control?” asked Anthea suddenly, her voice perplexed.

  “His motives have remained a mystery to me, for he has been deliberately obscure about both his gifts and his intentions,” replied Elerian doubtfully. “He did promise an explanation when it is time for the trees to be renewed, whatever that may mean.”

  “We will discover that, too, in time I suppose,” replied Anthea before lapsing into a melancholy silence.

  “It must be her captivity and close brush with death that has affected her so,” thought Elerian sympathetically to himself. “It is likely that they have left her fearful of falling into the hands of the Goblins again.”

  “You have had a grim experience, Anthea but you are safe now,” Elerian assured his companion gently. “There is no longer any reason to be afraid.” He was both surprised and disconcerted when Anthea laughed softly at his attempt to reassure her. He was quick to note, however, that there was no merriment in her voice, only bitterness and the same dejection that he had detected before.

  “You are far off the mark to think me afraid, Elerian,” she said bleakly. “It is dismay that I feel, not fear. For the first time in my life I was powerless before an enemy, taken from my home as easily as some helpless child. It has left me feeling diminished in my own eyes. I fear that others, too, will now see me as weak and helpless.”

  Elerian found himself speechless for a moment as Anthea fell silent.

  “I had forgotten how fearless she is, valuing her pride more than her own safety,” he mused to himself.

  “You treat yourself too harshly, Anthea,” he replied quietly. “No one can prevail in every situation. Remember I, too, was helpless in the hands of my enemies as was Ascilius. Even Torquatus was forced to flee when your brother thrust a dagger into his side.”

  “You do not think less of me then for allowing myself to be taken?” asked Anthea uncertainly.

  “On the contrary, I think your present meekness suits you,” replied Elerian cheerfully. “You will be much more manageable and subservient this way when you are my wife.” As Elerian fell silent, Anthea frowned, the old fire returning to her eyes for the first time. Then, she saw the gleam of laughter in his clear gray eyes.

  “I cannot understand how Ascilius has put up with you all this time,” she said crossly, but her voice was at odds with her eyes which had taken on a warm, luminous light. Leaning forward, she suddenly gave Elerian a long, warm kiss that left him both speechless and befuddled.

  “That was for your constancy and understanding,” Anthea said softly. “And this is for making fun of me,” she added, pinching the inside of his right thigh with her right hand. As Anthea’s slender, steely fingers closed on his leg, Elerian felt an excruciating jolt of pain strong enough to make his eyes water shoot through him. After leaping involuntarily to his feet, he recovered himself and lunged for Anthea to exact revenge, but laughing softly, she slipped through his fingers like smoke and drew away from him on quick, silent feet. At that moment, a fast moving shadow passed across the stars overhead, heading east. As one Elerian and Anthea looked up, their merriment vanishing instantly when, through the gap in the canopy, they briefly saw the outline of huge, leathery wings against the night sky.

  “Do you think it knows we are here?” asked Anthea in a whisper.

  “I do not think so, but it is tempting fate to remain in the open any longer,” replied Elerian as the lentulus flew on without slackening its pace. “Let us return to the cave.” Slipping silently through the forest, Elerian and Anthea quickly returned to the shelter of the cave, still in their own forms. Once inside, Anthea finally sought out her bed, but Elerian sat near the entrance to the cave, masked from outside view by the blanket that hung over the entryway.

  “I wish that I could use my sphere to see what stirs in the land,” Elerian thought to himself. “Now that Anthea is with me, it should be safe enough to use it again.” Calling his orb to his right hand, he watched as a silvery glow enveloped the globe at the touch of his hand. Moving its eye to the far side of the tunnel, he frowned at the revealing golden ring of light that hovered there.

  “I might as well shout, ‘here is Elerian,’ as send out that portal to spy out the land,” he thought to himself. Then, thinking then of dark energy still stored in his ring, he had a sudden inspiration. Drawing on that dark power, he watched with satisfaction as first the thread connecting the eye to his hand darkened and then the portal itself. The outline of the eye was now barely visible even to his third eye.

  Satisfied that the eye of his sphere was now properly masked, Elerian sent it out into the night. Faster than a bird in flight, it skimmed over the ground outside the cave. Like a small round window, it conveyed the image of a darkened landscape into the heart of the sphere in Elerian’s hand. Seeing nothing of interest, he sent the eye east. All was still until the portal reached the border between the Broken Lands and the Trofim. There, Trolls, looking and smelling, were abroad in the heights, green eyes gleaming like lanterns in the night. Sending the orb south, Elerian saw great flocks of cornixes and black owls flying across the skies like dark clouds, spying out the land below with their crimson eyes. Packs of canigrae prowled the forests and cordons of Mordi and mutare blocked every road and pass leading west or south.

  “Why have you looked into that ill-omened device again?” asked a deep, soft voice by Elerian’s left elbow, causing him to st
art and almost drop his sphere.

  THE CAVE

  Glancing to his left Elerian saw that Ascilius had awakened and now sat quietly by his side with a disapproving look on his craggy face. The Dwarf noted at once that Elerian wore his native form but did not comment on it.

  “I do not meddle with the future this time, having learned that it is best left alone,” replied Elerian mildly. “I used my sphere only to secretly spy out the lands around us. Its eye has shown me that the servants of Torquatus have blocked every road and pass into the east and south. He cannot have any idea of where I am, but his thought must be that, eventually, I will take Anthea in one of those two directions.”

  “We should leave this place in the morning then,” replied Ascilius soberly. “Sooner or later, when there is no sign of you along the border of the Broken Lands, Torquatus will think to turn his eyes to the west. We must cross the Murus before then if we are to escape his grasp.”

  “We can spare one more day for Anthea and Forian to regain their strength,” objected Elerian. “By then they should be able to travel.”

  “One more day then,” grumbled Ascilius. After Elerian sent away his orb, the Dwarf stood up and cast a critical look at the entrance to the cave. “We need a better door if we are to stay here another night,” he observed to Elerian. Acting on his own suggestion, Ascilius raised his right hand. Casting a transformation spell, he began to flow the stone forming the entrance to the cave into a more regular shape, arched on top with straight sides. Not to be outdone, Elerian brought branches from the forest and joined one to another, fashioning them into a single slab of wood that exactly fitted the opening Ascilius had made. The outer surface of the wood, he gave the semblance of stone so that it resembled a gray slab of weathered rock. By then, Ascilius had made hinges of stone to hang the door to the entryway, attaching them to Elerian’s door with a joining spell while Elerian held it in place. Dawn began to lighten the eastern horizon as they finished their task. Stepping outside the entryway together, they observed their door with critical eyes after Ascilius closed it.

  “A clever piece of work if I say so myself,” commented Ascilius to Elerian, for their new door blended so well into the stone face around it that it was invisible to the most discerning eye. Just then, the door opened from the inside and Triarus, Cyricus, and Cordus emerged, all three looking rather sheepish. They remarked at once on the change in Elerian’s face and form, but other than a few startled looks, like Ascilius, they did not otherwise acknowledge it. After a mumbled greeting, they entered the forest, returning quickly with great armloads of fir branches.

  “The scent that they are leaving in the forest may prove our downfall,” observed Elerian uneasily to Ascilius after their companions had trooped past them into the cave with their fragrant burdens. “Let us see what inspired this sudden and unwise interest in domesticity.”

  Entering the tunnel behind the door, Elerian and Ascilius found that the sharp clean smell of resin now filled the passageway instead of the cold scent of stone. In the chamber at the end of the tunnel, their companions were now hard at work under the watchful eyes of Anthea. She had some sweeping the floor of the cave with brooms made from fir branches while others spread fresh cut boughs for bedding. Elerian smiled to see the way everyone carried out her orders without argument, driven not by fear but by a desire to please her who inspired affection and awe in each of their hearts, for like Elerian, she still appeared in her own form. There was no fire in the cave, but warmth seemed to fill it, radiating out from her bright eyes.

  “It is good to see my nephews doing some honest labor,” observed Ascilius to Elerian in an approving voice.

  “They must none of them be used to domestic tasks,” commented Elerian sagely. “See how Dacien wields his broom like a sword, stabbing at the floor as if it were an enemy.” Hearing them laughing quietly, Anthea came over at once, a broom made of fir branches in her right hand. She was still pale and thin, but her voice was firm when she spoke.

  “You two would do better to help out instead of making fun of those doing worthwhile labor,” she said with mock severity. “We could do with a bit of breakfast for a start.”

  “I will see what I can do,” replied Ascilius at once, as anxious to please her as the others.

  “As for you,” said Anthea sternly to Elerian as Ascilius walked away to fetch his cooking gear, “more light would be useful in this gloomy place.”

  “Yes my lady, at once!” replied Elerian, his voice obsequious but mischief gleaming in his gray eyes. With a sudden, fluid movement, he leaned forward and planted a firm kiss on her warm lips before she could step away from him. Warned by the gleam in her blue eyes, he fled then, but to no avail, for Anthea pursued him around the cave, striking vigorously at his head and shoulders with her broom until he took refuge behind Ascilius.

  “Leave me out of this,” the Dwarf warned Elerian as he eyed Anthea’s broom with an alarmed look on his face.

  “You will have to come out sometime,” said Anthea, shaking her broom threateningly, but her eyes betrayed her, for they shone with laughter.

  “I think that I might be safer outside with the Goblins,” Elerian said to Ascilius as he continued to keep the Dwarf’s broad form between him and Anthea’s broom.

  “You should not complain if you stir up trouble,” admonished Ascilius as he resumed his preparations for breakfast. With a last threatening gesture of her broom, Anthea abandoned her pursuit of Elerian and began gently urging the rest of the company to resume their tasks, for they had all stopped to watch her chase Elerian, their looks spanning the gamut of wonder to amusement as they watched the play between them. Keeping a wary eye on Anthea, Elerian now hung gold, silver, and green mage lights on the walls of the cave while Ascilius made another stew. When he had lit the chamber to his satisfaction, Elerian left the cave with all of the company’s water bottles in his arms, filling them with clear water from the nearby stream. Some of their contents he transformed into beer of an amber color with a sharp, clear taste, while others became filled with rich red wine. When Elerian returned to the cave, the whole company had already gathered around the fire, the cave now having been cleaned and appointed to Anthea’s satisfaction. After passing the containers he carried to his companions, Elerian warily sat down at Anthea’s right side, but she seemed disinclined to renew their hostilities, focusing her attention instead on Ascilius, who sat to her left.

  “We will be on our way tomorrow,” announced the Dwarf to the others as he ladled fragrant stew into their bowls. “Torquatus expects us to travel east or south, therefore we will travel west.”

  “Nefandus lies in that direction,” warned Forian with an alarmed look on his face.

  “We will not enter that Dark Land,” Ascilius assured Forian. “Once we reach the eastern border of Torquatus’s kingdom, we will turn north into the valley of the Alba. With a bit of luck, if we keep to the heights, we may pass unnoticed over the Murus. Triarus has assured me that while the Goblins control the lands west of the mountains, there are many wild, unpopulated places where they are spread thin. With care, a small company such as ours should be able to reach the western coast where we will either buy or steal a ship to carry us back to Tarsius. From there, each of us can travel where he wills, excepting only Triarus who wishes to remain in his own land west of the Murus.”

  “You are proposing a journey of many months, Ascilius,” noted Anthea quietly. “My father will worry the whole time about the fate of Dacien and myself. Can you not open another gate for us to Tarsius instead?” she asked after turning to face Elerian.

  “There is not enough power left in my ring to open a portal to such a distant place,” replied Elerian regretfully. “We have no other choice but to take the long way home as Ascilius has proposed.” Elerian turned to Forian then. “Will you accompany us or try to return to your own people?” he asked the Ancharian.

  “I am still an exile,” replied Forian soberly. “I will go with you into the west
if you will have me.”

  “If there are no more objections then we will set out at first light tomorrow,” said Ascilius when Forian fell silent. Seeing that they were all in agreement over their future plans, well fed and bathed by warmth and light, the members of the company turned their talk to other matters. Laughter and cheerful conversation filled the air, for they had little fear that they would be discovered by any enemies in their snug retreat. Thinking to amuse Anthea, Ascilius described their flight from the Trolls’ cave after Elerian disguised himself as the Gargol and was rewarded for his efforts when her clear laughter rang out with the rest. Others talk and laughter followed, but after a time, Anthea turned to Elerian, her dark eyes suddenly grave.

  “Where do plan for us if we succeed in reaching the south coast of Tarsius?” she asked quietly.

  “There is a treasure in the Ancharus which I discovered in the river in my youth,” replied Elerian. “If we can both recover and carry that gold to Tarsius, I will wed you as we planned if you will have me, but I fear that our future will be uncertain after that. Even Tarsius will not be safe for us once Torquatus discovers that we are there. I fear that we may be condemned to a life of uncertainty, constantly moving from one place to another in order to escape his reach.”

  “It is not the life that I envisioned,” replied Anthea sadly. “I had hoped that we might retire to some quiet woodland home as did your parents.” A bit startled by this surprising admission, Elerian happened to glance over Anthea’s left shoulder, his gaze falling at once on Ascilius who looked back at him with a gleeful expression. The Dwarf had evidently listened in on the conversation between him and Anthea, for he wore a broad smirk on his bearded face as he pretended to cradle Fulmen in his arms like an infant.”

  “You do not seem to find the prospect I mentioned agreeable,” said Anthea coolly when she noticed the frown that suddenly appeared on Elerian’s face.