The Revenge of the Elves

by Gary Alan Wassner

  “You loved him very much,” Tomas remarked.

  “Yes, I did. I do,” she paused for a moment, her thoughts far away. “Filaree and I are his legacies. He would have felt and spoken the same way about us had our deaths preceded his.” She shook her head with certainty. “But now we must deal with more important things!” Esta said, slapping her thigh with her beringed hand and putting her memories away once again. “Sidra asked you to come here to perform a task she could or would not perform herself. We’re safe here. So how can I help?”

  “She told us she wouldn’t converse directly with the Chosen,” Elion said.

  “She said it was impossible for her to do so, though she didn’t tell us why. It was odd the way she spoke about their loyalty too,” Tomas recalled. That comment had bothered him then and he was reminded of it again now.

  “That of the Chosen?” Esta’s interest was piqued.

  “Yes,” they replied in unison.

  Sidra’s concerns disturbed Elion as well. “She made a distinction between being true to the Lalas and true to the earth. I always believed they were one and the same,” he said.

  Esta pursed her lips and folded her arms across her chest. “This is a serious differentiation, though Sidra has never accepted the preeminence of the trees the way most of us have.”

  “Is it possible we have reached a moment in time when our purposes and those of the Lalas are no longer the same?” Elion asked, shifting in his seat. “I’m unaccustomed to thinking in such terms.”

  “The trees are dying. They’re leaving the earth and we shall inherit all that is left behind as long as we can stop Colton from destroying it. We must learn why they are willing to depart at this juncture, and we must fill the vacuum their absence creates,” Esta said, pounding the arm of the chair with her fist. “They are not telling us what to do. They are not telling us why they are departing. The grand scheme, if there is one, may never be known to us. But anything is possible and we must prepare in whatever ways we can.”

  “Your daughter has inherited your perspective, my Lady. She is as practical as you. But what confuses me is the role of the Chosen in this. Robyn seemed not to know anymore than we do about the Lalas’ deaths.” Elion looked at her sideways, hoping she could shed some light on this.

  “We must ask them about it,” Tomas said. “We have to try and understand what we can expect of them in the times ahead. I am a Chosen. I know as little as you do. It’s no surprise Robyn knows nothing more.”

  “Tomas? Why haven’t you asked Ormachon?” Elion questioned. He rarely intruded into the relationship between the two of them, but this time he felt it necessary.

  Tomas flinched. His face colored. “I haven’t because… because I couldn’t. Since the last meeting with the Chosen before we arrived here I’ve avoided thinking about our next encounter. I’m worried Elion, very worried,” he confessed. “Ormachon may have planned what occurred in the mountains, or at least hoped it would happen as it did. Finally I believe he didn’t betray me as I had feared, or at least not in the way I feared. But he’s keeping things from me. He was distant when I was with him last and I knew then that things had changed. Really changed. I’ve been trying to prepare for whatever I might learn, for whatever his reasons are, and it’s not been easy.” The confession should have relieved him, but his face was still strained.

  “Do you fear the relationships between the Chosen and the trees are changing too? Do the others share your concerns?” Esta asked.

  “I don’t know. My relationship has changed, that I’m sure of.”

  “Has there ever been a Chosen who broke the bond?” Elion inquired. “Is it possible to do?”

  “A renegade, you mean?” Esta questioned.

  “Perhaps. Or one who was simply no longer up to the task for reasons of health or spirit,” Elion said.

  “Why do you ask that?” Tomas inquired.

  “If one must break the bond, is it possible?” Elion pressed. “Would a Chosen die under those circumstances?”

  “It has happened, though it’s unusual. I know of two such occurrences,” Esta replied. “One was well documented and you’ll recollect it too if you think back. Everyone knows of him.”

  “Aracon in the city of Nescon!” Tomas said.

  “Of course!” Elion recalled. “Though he didn’t exactly break the bond. He thought he was more powerful than his Lalas,” he added. “Who was the other?”

  “He is spoken of infrequently. Paras was his name and he was bonded to a tree, Carthane, in a very remote part of the world. He contracted an illness none could cure him of, and though he had many tiels to live after finding out about it, he believed he wouldn’t be able to perform the functions required of him. He asked that the bond be broken, he was released and was supposed to live out the rest of his life in the monastery at Praxis,” Esta explained.

  “Supposed to?” Elion questioned.

  “Well, some say he did, and others say he disappeared many years later, never to be heard from again,” Esta replied.

  “And you, my Lady? What do you believe?” Elion asked, intrigued.

  “What I believe is irrelevant here,” she said, dismissing his question, but Elion suspected she had her own opinion on the matter and that it was particularly relevant. He was unsure why she was reluctant to share it.

  “So we know it’s possible,” Elion concluded. “One can break the bond and live.”

  “Why are you asking me this? You want me to consider it? Break my bond with my tree? Why?” Tomas shuddered. “It’s more than an oath, Elion. It’s much more.” He shook his head and grimaced. “I can’t imagine…”

  “I just wanted to know if it was possible. We have many things to consider and it’s prudent for us to understand what the options may be. We can’t know what the Lalas are actually thinking, and we can’t know what choices may be foisted upon us all. You’ve said that yourself Tomas.” This was difficult for Tomas to hear, and Elion was aware of that, but he had to say it. “What we do know is that your brother must find the Gem before Caeltin does. That’s definite or there’s little chance for anyone. The trees may not know any longer how best to help us while they’re attempting to preserve their own lives, if in fact that’s even what they’re doing. The Gem affects them profoundly though. That much we are sure of. It may be that their paths and ours are diverging. That’s why it makes sense to converse with the others. You must hear how the rest of the Chosen feel,” Elion said.

  Tomas pressed his hands to his temples. Elion moved to make sure he was okay but Tomas held up his palm to keep him away.

  “We have to share these difficult thoughts,” the boy agreed. “When I believed Ormachon betrayed me I could hardly stand it. I didn’t think I had the strength to deal with it. The bond is so powerful and it’s physical, not just emotional. We’re tied together in many ways, and yet it seemed as if I could not have faith in it any longer. Everything was pulled out from under me, everything I believed in, relied upon. The speculations of the others gave me comfort.” He leaned back into the soft cushions and dropped his arms to his sides. “But they were just speculations.”

  “Use the ring, Tomas. Call them,” Elion urged him.

  “Yes,” Esta agreed.

  Tomas looked up at the sparkling stone wall and nodded in agreement.

  “Should we leave you alone?” Elion asked.

  “No. I have no secrets from you. The ties that bind us grow more secure each day even as all the others weaken. They’ll understand. They must understand.”

  “Can we help in any way?” Esta asked. It was a question she had asked her husband more than once, even though she knew the relationship he had with his Lalas was a part of his life he could not share.

  “You help by being here,” Tomas replied. He sounded frail but his eyes glowed like emeralds against the backdrop of stone.

  Withdrawing the silver ring from his shirt, he slipped the rawhide thong over his neck. Holding it in his palm, he closed his
fingers around it and began to hum.

  The room spun out of control. Tomas lurched. Something pulled at him and he gripped the arms of the chair and pressed his back against the tufted fabric. His eyes were shut but he could see more than if they were wide open. Up, up he went.

  Flying! I’m flying. He gasped.

  Darting above the treetops at fantastic velocity, he searched for something he could not intuit, something he could not picture, could not cognitively identify. The ring pulled him along.

  City. Buildings. Down there! Familiar. So familiar.

  It loomed far in front of him and he passed over it in an instant. A white spot appeared in the distance.

  Light! He felt as if he should squint but his eyes were clenched shut. Too bright. Hurts.

  Something glowed on the horizon. It looked like a huge sphere of intense white energy hovering upon the ground. He drew nearer, hurtling toward it, careening through the sky. His whole body burned, full of power. Light burst from his fingers.

  Aaagghhh. His breath went out from him and his head throbbed. The ring. Came from the ring.

  The beam touched the glowing dome, and he felt a connection no different than if his own hand reached out and touched something. The sensations were tactile, real.

  Yes, the ring! Glowing. Hot. Blistering. It pulsed in his hand, alive. The dome shattered and brilliant crystals shot out in all directions raining down on everything. A figure appeared within the storm.

  Pithar, Chosen of Marathar. Come to me. The glow surrounded him, wrapped him in a shimmering cocoon. Tendrils of power tugged at him, lifted him, and together they sailed across the sky that was not a sky.

  Not alone anymore.

  Tomas clutched the ring as if it were an extension of him. He felt huge, bigger than life. Pithar sailed beside him. Together they descended upon a cowled man standing alone in the middle of a shaded glen. Dashiel, Nemaroe’s bondmate, slowly raised his head.

  Power. Again. The air flew from his lungs, deflating him like a burst balloon. Dashiel!

  The brightness struck him and he acknowledged the contact, rising to join with them. The three sought out the next and the next and the next.

  Looking upward even before they descended upon her, Blodwyn’s spirit rose to meet the gathering group, sailing up the beam of light. Crea and then Phero, Harton, Liam, Connor, Edmond and finally Tobias joined them, one at a time.

  Come, he called out to them. Come to the gathering of the Chosen.

  Together, though their physical beings remained behind, they arrived at the protected chamber in the castle at Avalain.

  The ring glowed in Tomas’ clenched palm, while Esta and Elion sat beside him and watched. An odd luminescence permeated the dimmed chamber, and they both saw the ephemeral figures of the Chosen moving to and fro around them, figures with no substance, specters, spirits. Faint murmurs echoed throughout the room, but they could not make out the words. It seemed no more than a ghost dance to them.

  Tomas sat perfectly still, as if asleep. The sparkling beam from the silver band escaped through the spaces between his fingers, dancing and skipping prismatically across the polished stone surfaces of the room.

  “Why are others in the room with us?” Pithar grimaced. It surprised and offended him to find them there. Esta and Elion’s silhouettes glowed iridescent behind him.

  “They are my friends,” Tomas replied. “I wouldn’t have found this place if not for them. They’re as trustworthy as any other in this chamber.”

  “Trustworthy? It’s unwise to involve people outside of the council,” Pithar retorted.

  “Let the boy do as he chooses, Pithar,” Dashiel said, his green eyes flashing. “He is the holder of the ring. It is his prerogative.”

  “Pithar has a point nevertheless,” Harton, the most diminutive of the group, acknowledged. “I am not comfortable with any of this either. The more people who know about it, the harder it will be to keep it confidential. Confidence is essential, is it not?”

  Tobias turned. A purple sash bound his patchwork robe. “He said they can be trusted. One is Queen Esta of Avalain and the other is Elion, Prince of Lormarion. Have you objections to them really?” he asked.

  “I suppose not,” Harton acquiesced, though he seemed unconvinced.

  “It was imprudent regardless,” Pithar insisted. “You take liberties with us, young man. He may accept it, I do not.” Pithar walked away from the group. His face was long and time-worn. Gray robes hung loosely from him, concealing his body.

  “Imprudent?” Crea asked.

  “Yes, and arrogant!” Pithar continued, refusing to look at them.

  “You’re in a foul mood,” Edmond said. “Are you feeling alright? Is Marathar well?” Edmond and Pithar had been friends once, before the bond. They grew up in the same town.

  “He is indeed well, thank you!” Pithar strutted to the edge of the illuminated area until the shadows consumed him.

  “Enough bickering!” Blodwyn interjected with a stamp of her walking stick. “We’re together less than five minutes and you are arguing. I lose my patience so easily with you, Pithar. Focus upon the important issues. By the First, I do not know how Marathar deals with you sometimes.”

  “Unlike some of the others here…” Pithar replied, pointing at his companions, “I have yet to be rejected by my tree.”

  A hush fell upon the room. Dashiel’s face flushed crimson. He raised his fist in the air and strode toward Pithar.

  “You insist upon creating controversy, don’t you?” Edmond asked, stepping up and placing his arm across Dashiel’s chest to keep him back. “This is neither the time nor the place for a bitter declaration like that, Pithar. Control yourself. Carlisle and Mintar are dead! Words of sympathy and fond remembrance should have been the first ones spoken by us today. These are difficult times. Must we reflect that too?”

  Dashiel huffed and dropped his arm. “It’s a sad statement indeed that we have come together during a time of turmoil and strife, and we mirror that energy here amongst ourselves as well. Are we not supposed to be the ones who maintain the balance? What do you seek to gain by dividing us?” Dashiel asked.

  “The balance has been disrupted and not by Pithar. It’s not unusual that such an interruption would manifest itself in our behavior too. Let’s not fool ourselves,” Harton replied.

  “Everyone of us feels it,” Blodwyn said. Her brown skin glowed golden in the diffused light. “The connections are weakening and we cannot help but feel it. All the more reason to be aware and control ourselves. Such behavior does not suit the Chosen.”

  “The flow of energy common to each of us, common to life itself, is being undermined. First the Gem’s power ebbed and as the trees die, the communication between those that remain is breaking down further. He is manipulating this. We know it and we mustn’t fall prey to it,” Liam said.

  “He’s desperate,” Tomas spoke up. “He was unable to gather the 11th shard. It’s loose upon the land and I don’t know if it’s safe.”

  Pithar scowled at him as if he had no right to voice his opinion. “You are not sure about the shard? How could you not be sure of something as important as this?”

  “I’m not,” Tomas repeated. Pithar’s attitude didn’t deter him. “Sidra asked me to tell you this. She’s been protecting my brother and me.”

  Pithar turned to face them again, his robes flying out from behind him. “Ah. Sidra, the renegade. How gracious of her,” he snarled.

  “You are a Chosen, Tomas. Your loyalty must first be to us!” Harton said. Pithar was his mentor and he rose to his defense. “What have you told her?”

  “My loyalty is to the earth!” Tomas replied. He stood up tall with his hands on his hips. Though a boy among men, he made his presence felt. “Is that not how it should be for each of us?”

  “Don’t lecture him, Harton,” Edmond said. “He is one of us.”

  “I do not trust her and I never have. We all know of her power, and I, for one, have no rea
son to believe that her purposes and ours are the same,” Harton replied. He hardly trusted anyone anymore, let alone Sidra.

  “Then you don’t know her,” Tomas reddened. He didn’t come here to battle with the Chosen. The tenor of this meeting was unexpected and disconcerting.

  “She has never been our friend, Tomas. You must understand the history. She rejected the bond, what else should we assume?” Edmond asked in a conciliatory manner. “What reasons could she have had to do that?”

  “We know so few things about her. Judge her not because we cannot fathom her motives. We need what allies we can find at this time,” Crea reminded them.

  “How do we know she is an ally?” Connor spoke up for the first time. He was a man of few words, and he never wasted them. “Why will she not converse with us?”

  “We do not know that she is an enemy either. Lilandre believes she strives with us, though perhaps not at our side,” Blodwyn said. “Without her efforts, the shard would probably be in Colton’s pocket now.”

  “Yes. Wayfair agrees too, though he seems to understand her no better than we do,” Crea added.

  “My brother was in need and she gave him sanctuary. She stopped us from doing something that could have hurt everyone badly. I trust her because of that,” Tomas said.

  “What did she prevent you from doing?” Dashiel asked. Unlike some of his colleagues, he was intrigued by this woman.

  “The ring speaks to me, though in a language I can’t always understand, I try to make sense of the impulses and I believed it wanted my brother and me to communicate, that it was trying to tell me. She stopped us from meeting, and I’m now convinced she was right in doing so.”

  “She intervened? How?” Tobias asked. Sidra hadn’t involved herself in such affairs in the past. She remained apart until recently. Her actions were important news.

  “Prince Elion and I went to what we thought was a safe place so I could contact him. She came to us,” Tomas said.