The Revenge of the Elves

by Gary Alan Wassner

  You know what I mean, Promanthea. Please don’t patronize me. Robyn surprised himself by how harsh his response sounded. My days, too, are often filled with routine and drudgery, the details of which you have no interest in knowing. But I do not keep important things from you. I never have. Soothing feelings washed over him. He felt the caress of his tree as if standing directly under its enormous branches. It settled his mind, eased his tensions. But his question remained unanswered. Is it a coincidence we arrived in Parth only a short time after the sister departed with the map? he asked, shrugging off the feeling of compliance.

  We cannot control the timing of such occurrences, the actions of the living.

  We? You mean the Lalas? Was it not Oleander who sent her from here with the instructions to destroy it?

  Yes.

  Then why do you say you are not controlling these events? Your marks are upon all that has transpired. The sisters guarded this map for so long, they would never have set out to destroy it on their own. Robyn had wondered about this for a long while. The previous explanations were inconsistent.

  Our marks are upon all that happens? Not all, Robyn. Upon some things perhaps, the great tree replied, pausing afterward. Are you really so angry with me?

  You avoid answering. What are you keeping from me? he asked. He knew that information was being withheld, relevant, important information. Are you not curious why I have waited so long to contact you?

  It was not difficult for me to assume, Promanthea responded. Though it hurt me, I accepted your decision.

  But it was you who forced this decision upon me. Robyn recoiled at his tree’s resignation. How could he not know the anguish of it?

  No, Robyn. It was your own feelings that compelled you to remain apart. You attribute cause to the wrong source. To say I forced you is inaccurate.

  That may be. But I suffered from our last encounter. Are you preparing me to live apart from you? Will you be departing soon? he thought without asking.

  Every day is preparation for the next, the Lalas replied. I suffered too.

  What I am to learn from the loss of the map? Robyn asked.

  Some things cannot begin until others end. Our days are numbered, Promanthea said. Life must continue on regardless.

  Yours too? he thought. Your days are numbered? It was painful to hear him talk this way.

  The sisters would not have begun to cultivate their new talents. The twins would not be preparing for the Quest. The youngling would never have sprouted upon the shores of a once dry river bed. Every moment is a prelude.

  Yes, Robyn replied. But some things wouldn’t be necessary if not for the changes which precede them.

  Who is to determine the difference between what should be and what must? Our purpose has been to guide the weave. We do not command it.

  Yet you cause things to occur. We could have arrived here to find the map still in the hands of the sisters, Robyn said. Then I would know what to do next, he admitted. As it is, I am at a loss. And you are not helping me. Why? Why?

  Ah. So now we come to the true reason for your temper. But would you have been safe here then? Though we may set something into motion, we cannot predict how it will evolve. We assess what was and what is, and we anticipate what will be. Promanthea hesitated. I have not told you everything. That is true. But there is an infinite fount of information you do not need or desire to know. You are an instrument, as are all of the Chosen. The song that you play must harmonize with the earth. It cannot be discordant. Others have that luxury but you do not. The effects of your music may be broader than we can anticipate.

  Are we not partners, Promanthea? Are we not bonded? Am I just an instrument of your will? Was I always just this to him? Are we all? All the Chosen?

  Each note you play is your own and yours alone, and thus ultimately your responsibility. You are much more than an instrument of my will, Robyn. You were selected because of your ability, sensitivity, and wisdom. I can merely make a thought available to you. You have always been the one to take it, absorb it and act upon it or not. And so time proceeds. I do not impel you to action. And when I withhold something from you, do you believe I am unaware of the effects? There is no way to say nothing! In saying nothing, I say so much. One cannot exist without influencing all else that exists. Is that not what it means to be alive in this world? Action and inaction are relative. I must measure what I do not say, as much as I do what I reveal in words, for both actions will lead to another.

  The boy is almost ready, yet I do not know where to lead him, Robyn said again. His training is practically complete and still I struggle with indecision.

  Promanthea didn’t respond.

  Is this an example of the efficacy of your silence? Robyn asked. Am I to ascertain this alone, without your guidance? What are you afraid of?

  Does he have no sense of where to begin? the tree inquired. He knows he cannot depart yet.

  He mentioned that. I hope Tamara returns soon. He has determined that she brings with her something he needs. Could it be the map still?

  She carries the 11th shard. The boy feels it. It speaks to him.

  So, yet another piece falls into his hands, Robyn replied with great satisfaction. I will wait for her return to learn the details of its retrieval. Is the wizard alright? he asked, concerned that if another gathered a shard from the heart of a dead Lalas, Premoran may no longer be able to.

  Yes. He has many loyal and powerful friends. He is still a force to be reckoned with.

  Robyn sighed with relief.

  I have no sense of my father, of Concordia. Can you tell me anything about them?

  Why have you not contacted him yourself? Promanthea asked.

  I have been negligent.

  Or reluctant. What do you fear to learn, Robyn?

  I do not want to be tempted to stray from my path, though I fear he may need me, Robyn confessed.

  He does. But so does the heir.

  Must I choose between the two?

  If time passed without choice, it would be unmemorable. Need I answer that question?

  No, Robyn said. If I abandon Davmiran and he fails, there will be no hope for anyone. Father? Father?

  Your decision was made a long time ago, when you accepted the request to be my Chosen.

  Will my father come to harm?

  It may become difficult for him, as it has been and will be for us all. The Dark One moves on many fronts, Promanthea replied.

  To Tamarand? Will it be the target?

  Perhaps.

  We will find a way to prevent it, the Chosen said. We have to.

  We all do what we can, Promanthea replied. What we must… he continued, in a strange and sadder tone.

  What ‘must’ you do? Robyn asked, disturbed by the Lalas’ tenor. Is there more that troubles you? What can it be, Promanthea? What? Have you chosen to die?

  Although Robyn was nowhere near him in reality, the image he formed in his mind’s eye was vivid and real. For a second, he even smelled the essence of the Lalas. Promanthea responded without words this time, in a way only a Chosen and his tree could appreciate. It put him at ease.

  The boy must find the First, Robyn said, his conviction renewed. Only then will we be able to prevent Colton from destroying us all From destroying everything.

  Promanthea didn’t reply. He had severed the link between them. The air blew warm and humid across his brow and he raised his arm to push his hair back from his eyes. The forest smelled of rotting leaves, of decay and of death.

  He wastes no words. Each has meaning so why do I feel so unsatisfied? Each has meaning. Each has meaning.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  They left two hours before dawn. Esta hurried them through a clandestine, little used exit in the south of the city. This point of departure, much like the hidden room in the castle, was constructed by her late husband as a precaution. The tunnel ran deep underground beneath the walls, and evaded even Sidra’s shimmering defenses.

  They reache
d its end, in a cave before the woods. “Head south when you leave here. You’ll see one bare tree taller than the others. Beneath it you’ll find three horses and provisions, enough for many day’s journey,” Esta explained.

  Elion looked at her surprised. “How did…?”

  “I have many friends in these woods.” She tapped her foot impatiently.

  “But the shield…” he continued.

  “Hush now,” Esta wagged her finger at him. “My husband constructed this city. It has secrets you have not yet begun to learn about.” Esta changed the subject. “Where will you go from here? Have you decided?”

  “It’s best we don’t discuss our plans with anyone, your Highness.” Tomas spoke, his voice cold, emotionless.

  “And I am now just ‘anyone’?” Esta questioned. “What is it you fear from me, Tomas?”

  Tomas reddened. “I seek only to protect you.” And I don’t know how.

  “I know,” her voice softened. “But from whom, Tomas? You are the ones stepping into jeopardy.”

  Stephanie slid her arm through the crook of Tomas’ elbow. His eyes smiled though his lips barely turned up.

  “I will seek Ormachon’s counsel,” Tomas said. “It’s time.” He drew his shoulders back. “The Chosen agree.” But I’m scared.

  “Trust in Ormachon,” Esta said. “He’s your bondmate. It can’t be easy for them either. We should not assume motives when we don’t understand their behavior. Seek the true answers Tomas.”

  “Yes, Tomas. Do that. Speak with him. Another will soon depart, and who knows when…” Stephanie’s voice faltered. “Ormachon has never let you down.” Tomas turned from her. “If I were a parent and my child was being threatened, I too would manipulate whatever I could to protect him. After my father was killed, I did many things for my mother’s sake,”

  “Look, Tomas,” Preston said. “I snuck away from my parent’s home in anger. I didn’t stop to say farewell and they didn’t know where I was going or why. But I loved them then and I love them still, and I know they love me. I must believe they’ve forgiven me. What do we live for if not that?”

  He missed Ormachon. But it was his spirit that longed for him the most… and yet dreaded their meeting above all else. Tomas turned to the Queen, his arms limp at his sides. “I’m uncertain where we must go. I hope it will become clearer in the days ahead.” He hoped. That was an understatement. He wanted to leave now. He wanted to run. Where? Where?

  “You really don’t know, Tomas?” Esta asked.

  His eyes met hers. He didn’t need to answer.

  “How will we know where you are?” Stephanie asked.

  He’d only just found her again and now they were separating. He knew this was hard for her. Hard for him.

  “Is there no way you can send word that won’t endanger you or us?” Esta asked.

  “The barrier around Avalain makes that difficult. But perhaps I can use the ring with you as I do with the Chosen,” Tomas suggested, “I’ll try.” I have to go. His insides churned.

  For the first time since the massacre of his aunt and uncle in the fire in Pardeau, Tomas felt as if he had a family. Stephanie was the closest he’d ever come to having a sister, and Queen Esta was so much like his Aunt Safira, strong, confident. He didn’t want to step away, to leave them behind. But everything he got close to was taken from him. I have to go, he thought. I’m dangerous.

  Stephanie squeezed his arm and backed up. Esta walked to the cave’s entrance and looked out. “Life has selected you to act on its behalf, and your responsibilities are great. You must choose carefully. But you aren’t alone. We’ll be here for you when you return. You have a home.” She beckoned with her hand and Tomas walked over to her. “Illuminate the world, Tomas!” she whispered into his ear.

  The thought of leaving broke upon him like a great wave, unsettling him, disturbing his balance. Sidra couldn’t protect him out there. No one could.

  They gathered up the supplies. “Farewell, my three young princes,” Esta said.

  “Princes,” Preston said in Tomas’ ear. “Did you hear that?” he blushed behind his scruffy beard.

  Elion’s eyes caught the Queen’s. “I’ll take care of him. Don’t worry,” he promised.

  “Get her back safely now,” Preston said to Stephanie.

  Arm in arm, the two women turned and left the cavern without looking back.

  Their footsteps faded quickly.

  Elion hesitated a moment longer. “You really don’t know where we’re going?”

  Tomas wasn’t listening. With Esta and Stephanie gone, apprehension hit him harder than he expected. Even with his friends around him, the loneliness was unbearable. He was losing everything, everyone that meant anything to him. And now he had to face Ormachon.

  “Tomas? Doesn’t the ring tell you anything? What good are these things if they don’t help us when we need them the most?” Preston asked. “It’s a big world out there. Are we just going to wander around until we get a good idea?” He snapped a tree branch protruding between two rocks and let it dangle from his mouth. “You must have some idea where we should go.”

  “I have to speak with Ormachon and then we’ll decide what to do next,” Tomas said, his voice uncertain. “I wish I had a better answer for you. I really do.” But I don’t. I don’t have an answer.

  Elion signaled to Preston and started to exit the cave. “Come on Tomas. We shouldn’t stay here any longer.”

  The air was crisp. They’d been under Sidra’s shield for days and the smells were different here. Tomas stepped a little lighter, stood a little taller. “Up that hill there.” He pointed ahead. “That looks like a good place.” They left the horses tied and followed him.

  “How are the people of Talamar going to deal with what happened to them?” Preston asked as they walked. “Their entire city’s gone! They lost their homes, their property, their leaders…”

  “Leaders?” Elion scoffed. “Kettin was no leader.”

  “He was weak and greedy. The combination of the two made him easy prey,” Preston commented.

  “He was half the man his father was, and that’s not saying much,” Elion’s face was full of contempt.

  “The Queen will have a lot on her shoulders, that’s for certain,” Preston said.

  Tomas kicked a rock from the path. “Kettin tried to kidnap my brother from Pardatha and that’s why you found him. If not for that, Davmiran might have been trapped in the city during the battle. Instead, you brought him back to Seramour. We have to thank Kettin for that much.”

  “Thank him?” Preston drew back. “Thank Baladar instead! Look what Kettin’s done to his city. His people.”

  “He’s right. Kettin may have caused your brother’s absence from the city but he wasn’t responsible for the good that came of it.”

  Elion watched Tomas closely. “Thanking him would be like thanking Caeltin for bringing us together. You didn’t mean that, did you?”

  Tomas scowled. “Things seem to happen, despite what those who cause them want to happen. How can we ever figure out the right course of action, when the wrong one could turn out to be so good. We think we’re doing the right thing and then…” Tomas said.

  Elion didn’t let him finish. “Wait a minute now.” He grabbed Tomas’ arm and wouldn’t let go. “You’d never make a decision if you needed to be certain of all the consequences each and every time. You can’t know the future. Tomas? What’s going on with you?”

  Tomas shrugged, annoyed.

  “It’s the intent, Tomas, that defines the act.” Elion continued. “If your intention is good, then the action’s justified.”

  Tomas pulled away. “It’s not enough!” His skin paled. “Don’t you see? The mind is weak. We can be convinced to do many things that are wrong. There has to be more…” He hurried up the path.

  “More?” Preston rushed after him. “Of course there’s more! Certain things are never right. Cruelty. Selfishness…” He glanced back at Elion as he spoke.


  “What about betrayal?” Tomas cut in. He stopped walking and stood perfectly still. “Is betrayal ever right?” he asked again.

  “It’s just a word, Tomas. If the intention is to preserve and protect, then it’s not really betrayal, is it?” Preston replied.

  “I thought you were getting past this,” Elion said.

  Tomas swayed. “I’m worried,” he confessed. “What Ormachon has determined is right, may no longer be what’s right for me, for us.” His voice grew stronger. “I fear our paths and those of the Lalas have diverged from one another.” Louder. “I’m concerned that what we need to do in order to preserve our world and what they need to do, are now at odds with one another.” He paused. “I’m afraid I’ll lose him too.”

  Elion stuffed his hands into his pockets.

  “I thought after you met with the Chosen that your troubles were alleviated. I thought you understood why Ormachon did what he did,” Preston said.

  “I did… I thought I did,” he admitted. “When I met with the Chosen, I discussed the breaking of the bond. It shocked them, but it was necessary. What shall I do?” Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t contain his emotion any longer. I’m scared.

  “We all have doubts and concerns Tomas.” Elion fidgeted. He groped for the words. “I regret choices I’ve made too.” His voice rasped.

  Tomas wiped his eyes and forced a smile. He felt foolish, but he couldn’t help it. Elion was worried about him. He saw it in his face. He was worried about himself. “I’ll know one way or another soon.” He felt like a child again, apprehensive, uncertain. And everyone expected so much of him. I’m alone. They can’t help me.

  He walked to a tree stump and sat against it. “This is as good a place as any.” His eyes were so sad.

  “Be strong, Tomas. We’re with you, whatever you learn,” Preston patted him on the back.

  “We won’t leave you,” Elion promised.

  Tomas stared off into the distance, his eyes rolled back in his head. His lips moved but no words came out.