by Licia Troisi
Nihal had yet to get out of her bed. Before they could set out, she at least needed to get used to walking again. It was difficult at first. Her head spun and her legs felt too weak to hold her up, but she carried on without complaint. Sennar was right: they had to leave. If they died there, everything would have been in vain. Survivors have a responsibility to those lost.
They set out at night beneath a crescent moon.
It was almost pitch black. Sennar was wearing the suit of armor. Nihal was covered in a black cloak. Soana wore a sackcloth hood.
Before them, a number of small lights began to glow through the darkness. It was the wood sprites. Nihal was amazed at how few there were: a few dozen, all of them worse for the wear, with dark circles under their eyes and the lost gazes of refugees.
“This is all I could find,” said Phos, pointing to a bony and frightened nag. “The Fammin took all the rest.” It took a great effort for Sennar to turn toward the horse. He looked comical in the armor and Nihal wondered how he managed to bear its weight.
“This horse will serve very well. Thank you, Phos.”
The wood sprites hid inside the saddlebags as Nihal mounted. Although her wound was no longer open, it was still painful. Perfect. We haven’t even left yet and already I’m not feeling so hot. She took a sip of ambrosia.
The caravan set out.
They traveled along the edge of the forest. Phos, hidden beneath Nihal’s cloak, guided them. The night was dark, the silence complete. Not even the trees rustled. They held their silence as a sign of mourning, and Nihal felt their sorrow pervade the atmosphere around them.
They traveled through the night. Sennar took the lead and Nihal and Soana followed side by side behind him. Every now and then, murmuring sounds would rise from the saddlebags and a little colored head would emerge. It was difficult to breathe inside the bags, so the wood sprites took turns coming up for air.
Soana walked with difficulty because she’d put all her energy into reciting spells for days. For Nihal, the horse’s trotting was like torture.
They headed for cover as day began to break. They’d decided it would be safer to travel by night and rest by day. They took turns standing guard so as to avoid being surprised in their sleep. They woke again at sunset and set off once more.
The next night, the Saar came into view. The river was so immense they could not see the far bank. The current roared like thunder. Only a few daring souls had ever managed to cross it, and even fewer of them had managed to do so unharmed. It looked like a dark and menacing being ready to devour anyone who dared approach.
The banks were almost entirely devoid of vegetation. No other form of life dared establish itself in the place where the Lord of Waters reigned. It was the same river that gave birth to the splendid canals of the Land of Water, but here it showed itself at its most wrathful state.
Phos took command. “We’re completely unprotected here. We must waste no time. If we move quickly, we can make our way through the barren plains of the Land of the Wind in a single night.”
The group prepared for a tough march.
After a long walk, they saw a flash where a tower had been set ablaze. Its outlines were visible through the flames. It was a tower city like Salazar, and like Salazar, it had fallen victim to the Tyrant.
They quickened their pace, fear in their hearts. A flaming city meant the enemy was near, and the first faint light of dawn was already coloring the plains.
They were exhausted. They needed to find some sort of shelter, but it seemed unlikely that there was anything for miles around. Finally, after the sun had already risen above the horizon, they noticed a farmhouse.
Sennar went ahead to scout things out. When he came back his face was clouded over.
“It’s not a good idea to stop. Let’s go.”
Nihal spurred on her horse.
“No, Nihal. Come back!”
But Nihal galloped toward the house without heeding Sennar’s cries.
The sight was bleak: abandoned farm implements, an untended garden, empty stalls in the barn. With great effort, Nihal dismounted and made her way to the entrance. It was half closed; it creaked when she pushed it.
It was dark inside and it smelled of death. A man hung from the ceiling while a girl and a woman lay in pools of blood on the floor.
Nihal froze. Once again she heard cries and weeping. History was repeating itself, one massacre after another. She cried out and collapsed to her knees.
“Come away from here. Don’t look.”
Soana had followed her.
“No! It’s right to look! We have to see what the Tyrant is doing to the world,” yelled Nihal with rage.
Soana took her by the arm and dragged her out of the house.
They buried the corpses, taking care to ensure the graves weren’t visible, and then they made ready to sleep in the barn. It wasn’t easy for any of them to fall asleep; the images of the dead would not leave them.
Despite Sennar’s protests, Nihal insisted on taking a turn standing watch. She sat with her sword on the threshold. She looked out over the fields the family had tended so laboriously and felt as though she might suffocate.
The day passed uneventfully.
Toward sunset, Nihal managed to fall asleep, her arms around her sword. For the first time since learning she was a half-elf, no nightmares disturbed her sleep. Instead, she dreamed that Fen came to take her away. Then, he gave her a long kiss before the waterfall at Galla and Astrea’s palace.
It’s all over, Nihal. I’m here now, he said.
When she woke, she wondered how it was possible to dream such a lovely dream at such a terrible time. It had been ages since she’d last thought about the knight, but she realized her love had not faded. Who knew where he was, who he was fighting for, whether or not he was hurt …
They resumed their journey. They reached a little forest whose trees provided safety for the travelers. Some of the wood sprites came out of the saddlebags to stretch their crumpled wings.
Phos rejoiced when he saw that there were no traces of Fammin in the little thicket. “Maybe there’s still hope! Something has been spared from the destruction.”
Sennar took off his helmet and took in deep breaths of fresh air.
“Nihal, no one can see you here. Take off your cloak.”
Nihal shook her head. “No. I don’t want to endanger the rest of you.”
Pale, thin, and dressed all in black, Nihal looked diabolical. For a split second, Sennar was afraid of her. She wasn’t the same girl he’d met in Salazar. She’d changed, though he couldn’t say just how.
Once again, they got through the night without any problems. They stopped to rest shortly before dawn. After the experience of the previous day, it was wonderful to be able to sleep on the grass.
Nihal decided to take the first turn standing watch. She seized the opportunity to stretch her legs. She wanted to get her strength back as quickly as she could. She looked at the landscape around her, astonished that a little bit of paradise like this could exist in the midst of all the despair of war. She remembered the days of her trial in the Forest. It felt like something from another life.
A sound pulled her away from her thoughts. She turned with a start. It was Soana. They hadn’t spoken much since the day Soana had revealed the truth.
“Do you feel better?” The sorceress looked beautiful and powerful once again.
“Yes.”
“You can’t forgive me, can you?” Soana cut right to the point.
Nihal’s response was a curt, “No.”
She didn’t want to hurt Soana, but she had to get rid of the lump of resentment that was blocking her throat.
“That’s how it should be. I know how you feel. I know that nothing can ever make up for Livon’s death. I’d like you to know that I share your sorrow. Livon was my brother, Nihal.”
“You weren’t there when he died.”
“Your eyes tell the whole story.”
; For a long moment, Nihal was silent as she fought back tears. “I don’t like being angry at you, Soana, but I am. I’m angry at the entire world. I’m angry with myself. I hate what I am.”
Soana bent her head. “I know, Nihal. I hate myself, too. I wasn’t capable of saving the Land of Wind. I left my brother to die. I didn’t know how to spare you this pain. But I’ve made a decision. When we reach the free lands, I’m going to resign from the Council. Sennar will take my place. I won’t be missed.”
This shook Nihal. “But why? You’re an important member of the Council.”
“It was my duty to watch over the Land of the Wind, to get a sense in advance for the Tyrant’s moves and to keep the Council informed. I failed, Nihal, pure and simple. I overestimated my abilities as a sorceress. Or maybe I underestimated the dark power of the Tyrant’s magic. In any case, it doesn’t matter. I’ve made an unpardonable mistake.”
“What will you do after?”
“I’m going to look for Reis. I have to know, Nihal. Not just for the Overworld, but, most of all, for you.”
Nihal looked the sorceress in the eyes. “You’ve always been a guide for me, Soana, but the ties we had are broken, and I don’t think we can repair them. But know that I still love you.”
Soana caressed Nihal’s head. “You’ve become a woman, Nihal.”
Although the night of the fourteenth day of walking found them still far from the border, their journey was about to end. In the distance, they could see the lights of an enemy encampment: more than twenty tents scattered around a small plain. The tent in the center was slightly bigger than the rest. It probably belonged to the head of the unit.
“Looks like this is the end of the road for us,” Sennar said. He took off his helmet. None of them had the slightest idea how to get to the other side of the front.
Soana, however, was not discouraged. “If there’s an enemy camp, then some of our troops are probably camped near here as well. We just need to get in touch with them.”
The sorceress settled onto the ground. “Sennar, the rocks for the magic circle.”
Sennar struggled to take off his armor. “I suppose it has its uses, but this stuff is really uncomfortable.”
He set to rummaging around in his rucksack and pulled out six rocks inscribed with runes. Soana set them at the tips of an imaginary star like the one she’d used to put Nihal through the fire test. After a while, a blue flame shone in the center. The sorceress began reciting a spell. A dense blue smoke rose up from the star and melted away into the air.
“This is how Fen and I communicate when we’re far apart. I don’t know where he is, but in all likelihood, he’s fighting on this front. I told him where we are. He’ll know where to find us when we get past the enemy camp.”
Sennar opened his eyes wide. “When we make it past the camp? How? It must be crawling with sentries.”
“Sentries can fall prey to drowsiness, Sennar; you know exactly what I mean. We’ll go forward as soon as we’ve heard from Fen. You’ll pretend to be a messenger, then you’ll put them to sleep. The wood sprites can fly over the area and Nihal and I will walk.”
Sennar didn’t like playing the hero, but he managed to convince himself that it was the only way to get past the enemy.
After two days of waiting, they all began to worry that Fen had not received the message. Only Soana remained optimistic.
“He’ll answer.”
On the morning of the third day, a dove came to them. Around its leg was a bit of paper containing brief instructions written in a very clear hand along with a few unfamiliar runes. Nihal couldn’t help but think that Fen had probably wanted to send the sorceress a secret message. Dreams lie, she told herself.
“We’ll have to act tonight. You should get going, Sennar.”
All night long, Sennar had fantasized about the moment when he would perform heroic deeds to free the Overworld from the Tyrant’s yoke, but now he felt far more fearful than he’d anticipated.
After some hesitation, he mustered up his courage, mounted his horse and prepared to go.
“Sennar!” Nihal stood not far from him, a smile on her face for the first time in days. “Good luck. Come back all in one piece!”
Sennar winked. “It will be a piece of cake.” He headed off.
It was hardly a peaceful wait. Nihal was upset by the idea that her friend was risking death. She couldn’t stand the idea of losing another person who was dear to her. She brooded the whole day, tense and preoccupied.
Phos did his best to distract her. “Cheer up! Just think—in a little while we’ll be leaving here. I can’t wait to be in the Land of Water. Rivers, endless forests, other wood sprites, peace …”
Nihal wasn’t listening. She alternated between biting her nails and fiddling nervously with her sword.
Not a sound came their way from the encampment; that was a good sign. They would probably have heard a ruckus if Sennar had been discovered.
Then night fell.
The plan was to meet Fen beyond the encampment at dawn, along the Great River. The wood sprites flew off, going as high as possible so their little lights would be less visible. Soana and Nihal also set out.
When they passed the entrance to the encampment, Nihal used magic to create a little flash of lightning, which was the sign they’d agreed upon in advance. Her heart in her throat, she waited for Sennar’s response. It felt like an eternity before he appeared from behind a tent, safe and sound. She would have liked to run to him and hug him, but she managed to restrain herself and simply whispered, “Are they all sleeping?”
“I think so. It took ages—this place is enormous. On the plus side, I managed to snag a couple of things. …”
Sennar pulled two long swords out of his bag, one for himself and one for Soana.
Even though everyone in the camp was sleeping, they slithered through the grass so as to make as little noise as possible. Aside from the Fammin, there were many men, as well, and some dwarves. All of them slept peacefully, their hands still clenched around jugs of cider, their open mouths emitting noisy snores. They had been celebrating the deaths of the innocent inhabitants of the Land of the Wind.
Nihal felt an overwhelming desire to set the camp on fire and watch them all die in its flames, but a thought held her back: Not yet. All in good time.
The camp seemed endless. They moved slowly until the last outpost came into view. One last obstacle stood between them and Fen and safety. Nihal was excited at the prospect of seeing Fen after so long.
“Evil sorcerer! Traitor!” The cry rang through the night air.
Two Fammin appeared out of the darkness. They were far away but quickly gained ground.
“I thought you put them all to sleep,” Nihal yelled.
In a split second, she sized up the situation. There was no point in hiding. The best plan was to confuse them. She drew her sword and charged the two enemies.
The Fammin charged her, as well, but Nihal was not cowed. After a few passes, Nihal began to retreat. What little strength she had regained was already gone. I can’t do it. A splitting pain shot through her side. Her sword felt like lead. I’m not going to make it.
A bolt of green lightning passed over her head and incinerated the Fammin. Nihal turned, surprised.
Sennar was looking at her mockingly. “You’d better come up with a good way of paying me back. That’s the second time I’ve saved your life!”
“Enough chit chat, you crazy sorcerer. I don’t want any more surprises,” Nihal answered with a smile.
Soana and the two teenagers left the enemy encampment at a run.
They ran without stopping until they reached the banks of the Saar, where the wood sprites had been waiting. The pain in Nihal’s side was so fierce she could barely breathe.
“Let me see.”
Sennar lifted her tunic. The bandages were stained with blood.
Deaf to Nihal’s protests, Sennar made her lie on the ground and began to recite spells. She
relaxed, her breathing became more regular, and in little time she felt well again.
“Thank you, Sennar. Thank you for everything.”
She looked up at the sky between half-closed lids. It was turning pink. In the glimmer of dawn, she saw three green spots drawing closer. Dragons.
Fen and his men had found them.
They were safe.
Later, the knight whispered something to Nihal. It was something about Gaart, but she was too tired to understand. She slept through her first dragon ride.
11
NIHAL’S DECISION
Nihal and the others were taken to a border village in the Land of Water. Soana had insisted on a modest welcome because she no longer considered herself a member of the Council and did not want to be a guest of Galla and Astrea at Laodamea.
The village was called Loos and it was one of the few where both nymphs and human beings lived together. It was a pleasant place, designed to facilitate the cohabitation of two such different races.
Houses were necessary for the humans, while the nymphs required trees where they could take shelter at night. Some parts of the village, therefore, were full of little houses on stilts sticking up over the water, while others were forested.
In the beginning, Nihal was stunned by the verdant chaos of Loos.
She and Soana were guests of a fisherman. The man was very kind to Nihal. After first seeing her so tired and battered, he made her stay in bed for two full days without allowing her to lift a finger. But her dreams came along punctually each night, and her pain was renewed each morning. She did everything she could to recover as quickly as possible. As soon as her legs would support her, she began to slip outside and wander around the splendid land.
And then there was Fen.
His encampment wasn’t far from the village, and he often came to Loos to see Soana. Nihal anxiously awaited his visits. It hardly mattered that he didn’t come for her, but for Soana—Nihal’s fantasies were all she had left. They helped keep her sad memories at bay.
