Tomas felt the silver band cold against his chest. And you and me? Tomas asked. How different will it be for us now? Orphaned again. How many times?
You have only brought to your conscious mind what you have known in your heart for sometime.
So you say. Do you know so little about me after all these years? Tomas thought. Everything has changed. So be it. So be it.
Follow your heart, Tomas. It is what distinguishes you from him. Nothing is the same as it was.
My heart? My heart is broken. How do I follow a broken heart? Nothing is the same. Nothing. Nothing.
Be strong, my son. A new struggle has begun, and we shall not survive it. I never wished…
Ormachon stopped mid-sentence. The boy had left him.
Chapter Thirty-two
The creatures set out from Sedahar in silence. They walked across the unforgiving surface like three cats stalking their prey. None but the Dark One witnessed their departure. They exited the massive structure at the darkest moment of the night. Though the castle was surrounded by throngs of warriors who milled about, a vast army of lost souls, they seemed unaware of the presence of three new bodies amongst them. The ranks simply parted and reversed direction as the figures approached, making way for them to pass, before continuing their mindless meanderings.
Each of the three was identical to the other. They wore simple green capes over buckskin leggings and white, silk tunics. A quiver filled with arrows hung across each of their backs, and a siege bow was slung over each of their left arms, cocked all at the same angle. Their auburn hair was long and straight, and cinched at the neck by a band of silver. Their gaits were identical down to the exact length of each of their strides. Even their breath expanded and contracted their well formed chests in perfect rhythm with one another. They blinked in concord as their blue eyes panned the desolate surface of the land.
Sanguine and proud, Colton watched from Sedahar’s tallest tower as they walked into the distance, and he dipped his chin in appreciation at the results of his work. His sultry lips were frozen in a cold smile, a grimace almost, and his beautiful eyes burned with an insidious fire. It was time.
Chapter Thirty-three
The song of the Lalas was strong. It sounded just as it did the last time Fallean was in Tallon. Or so it seemed to him.
“Jeremy told me you had a rough trip. That clothing of yours was filthy, I can just imagine. The baths cleaned you up nice,” Megan said from behind the bar. “How’s your mother? I miss her visits.” Her voice was edgy, rushed, not relaxed.
“I wish I knew,” Fallean replied.
“Silly me. I should have known better. You’ve been away a long time, Fallean,” she said. “Not a day goes by when I don’t think of her. It’s been so long. It’s good to see you. Very good,” she grabbed his wrist and squeezed it, as she slid three tall glasses in front of him. “Drink up, all of you, and relax. Whatever’s going on outside these walls, you’re safe in here for now.”
The music rang in their heads. Fallean was familiar with it, but Lana and Caryssa found it hard to hear anything but the notes.
“You’ll get used to it,” he said, while leaning over and reaching for one of the glasses of cider.
“Before the rest of the townsfolk start traipsing in here and smothering you with questions, let us tell you what we know,” Megan said, getting down to business. “It may look the same here but it’s not.” She walked out from behind the counter and pulled over a stool. Straddling it, she lit her pipe.
“The gates were closed,” Fallean reminded her.
“Right,” Megan blew a circle into the air. “I’ve forgotten how long it’s been since you were last here. We keep them shut all the time now. The wolves never come too close to the walls, but they’re growing in number. We have to send guards with the shepherds.” She feigned nonchalance.
“They’ve already killed a goodly number of our sheep. They’re smart, these wolves, smarter than I’ve ever known a wolf to be,” Kerrigan frowned.
“We try not to make much of it. The people of Tallon are unaccustomed to threats,” Megan explained to Lana and Caryssa. “Besides,” she huffed, “they’re just dumb beasts. There’s probably nothing for them to scavenge anymore where they come from.”
“Where are they coming from?” Fallean asked and Kerrigan bristled.
“The south,” he said. The word echoed around the room.
“Adain saved your mother’s life. Did Jeremy tell you the whole story?” Megan moved on a tad too fast. Fallean stiffened and shook his head no. “The Chamber of the Stars was nearly destroyed. The attack came from the skies. Horrid beasts, we heard.” She pressed the tobacco with the end of her tamper and drew the smoke into her mouth. Another ring floated into the air. “Adain threw himself over Elsinestra to protect her and they shot him instead. Everyone escaped there safely but him.” She let the news sink in.
“The Gwendolen heir was in the Chamber,” Kerrigan said, his voice hushed at the mention of the boy. “He was unconscious when Colton attacked.”
“They managed to revive him just in time. He and his three teachers along with a Moulant, fled from Seramour into the woods of Lormarion before the battle was over. The city might have fallen right then and there,” Megan said. “It was that close, Fallean. That was when Premoran showed up.”
“Your uncles, Bristar and Whitestar, sent troops to your father’s aid, and your cousin, Princess Alemar, led Iscaron’s ghost and his lost army into the forest,” Kerrigan added. They all knew who Iscaron was. “They swept through the woods of Lormarion and killed all the insects that were eating the Nobans down below.”
“Then the entire ancient army just vanished,” Megan continued her explanation, telling them all she could remember. She spoke of the heir and his teachers, of Premoran and Teetoo, and of the battles, the destruction and the ultimate victory.
“Premoran departed from Seramour after the battle was won and went to Sedahar to confront his brother,” Kerrigan said.
“Your mother has been sending her birds to us again,” Megan explained how they knew all of this.
“Your cousin, Kalon, died as well in the woods of Lormarion,” Jeremy said. Fallean sat up straight. “Am I always to be the bearer of the worst news?” he asked the others.
There was never any love lost between Alemar and her half brother, Kalon, but it was a tragedy nonetheless.
“Kalon never wished to involve his city in the affairs of the rest of us or of the world,” Fallean replied.
“He was a hero in the end,” Jeremy said. “We don’t know what changed him, but we’re all thankful for it, whatever it was.”
“Alemar was ambushed by Colton’s possessed, and he gave his life in her defense,” Kerrigan added.
“I’m glad for him then,” Fallean replied. “I never understood my cousin. He was a troubled man. He and his mother…” he stopped himself.
“In the end, your cousins did what they had to, and then some! We should count our blessings,” Kerrigan said.
“Alemar left for Sedahar to free Premoran when the battle was done,” Megan replied. “We’ve heard nothing of them since, but the music from the wells has been sweeter for some weeks now.”
“They must have succeeded,” Fallean said, and all the eyes in the room turned to him. “We were attacked not too far from here by a group of Caeltin’s slogs and they carried upon them an image of my cousin. It was her they sought and they must have believed she was with us.”
“The waters would be singing a different tune if Premoran were still imperiled. And if Alemar is being hunted, then surely she and her companions have escaped with their lives,” Kerrigan said. “They wouldn’t be hunting a dead woman.”
“Did you hear anything about the new tree in Pardatha?” Megan inquired. No one had yet mentioned it. “One has rooted, you know.”
The three elves turned toward her, wide eyed.
“No!” Lana replied. “How marvelous.”
“We
had no idea,” Fallean said. “That is good news indeed. A new tree, how fantastic.” The best news he’d heard since they touched foot on the mainland.
“It sprouted on the shores of the waters that swept down the valley during the battle of Pardatha. The seeds were planted by Tomas, the heir’s brother,” Megan continued.
“Already it has become a place of pilgrimage,” Jeremy rounded his eyes.
“We heard about the twins and of the Battle of Pardatha, but that information too was sketchy. Soon after that, the information we were able to gather was spottier and less frequent and we became more and more uncertain of its accuracy,” Fallean explained.
“A youngling really has rooted,” Lana repeated. “This is welcome news indeed!”
“We await its arrival here,” Kerrigan said.
Fallean looked at him in surprise but he refused to meet his eyes.
“Arrival?” Lana turned half around in her seat, her face a question mark.
“The roots of the great trees all find their way here soon enough,” Megan replied.
“Yes, they do. Each has a distinct note and cadence of its own that contributes to the harmony,” Kerrigan said. “We have not yet heard the youngling’s voice.” His own voice faltered slightly as he spoke of the new tree.
“But we hear that it thrives, The others sing of it,” Megan said, edging closer to Kerrigan.
“You can understand what the trees are saying?” Lana asked, her eyes bright. “Though you are not a Chosen, you hear their voices?”
“So to speak, Lana,” Kerrigan explained. “Some of us can. Elsinestra was always the one who communicated the best with the trees here, though I’ve learned a little of the language myself. In her absence, someone had to.” His face brightened, then soured almost as fast.
“Remarkable,” Lana said.
“They don’t exactly speak, as the Lalas do with their Chosen. They sing,” Jeremy said, looking for confirmation… or approval.
“Yes, they sing,” Kerrigan said. “Of birth and of death. Of hope and of sadness. They sing of sorrow and of joy.”
“And you can understand the words?” Caryssa asked. “You hear them as you would those of a bard who comes here to entertain?”
“The music’s in our heads, as are the words of the trees, they say, but they strike a different chord than words do. Everyone in Tallon hears the music. Only Kerrigan hears the words,” Jeremy replied.
“Most of us just react to it. It generates emotions in us all,” Megan added.
“It’s the collective voice most hear. They sing as one, and understanding this language is far different than conversing with a single tree,” Kerrigan explained. He pushed his mug away from him and bent forward, elbows on knees. “I wish…”
“They have a collective voice?” Lana asked, intrigued, her tongue between her teeth.
Kerrigan looked at the floor and tapped his foot. “It’s not that simple. Sometimes they say things…”
“Yes, Lana,” Megan didn’t let him finish. “Here they merge into one as they draw their sustenance from the waters, and they speak with a common voice.” She looked at Kerrigan. “He’s upset with himself,” she apologized for him. “He thinks he’s not been doing enough.” Kerrigan brooded at the bar. “Fallean, maybe you’ll descend into the wells and lend us your expertise?” She drew back from him as she spoke, and rose up in her seat. A large ring of smoke settled and broke apart on the surface of the counter.
“I have no expertise here, Megan,” Fallean replied warily. Jeremy didn’t say a word about having spoken to him of this previously. He turned to him and searched his face, but his expression was blank.
“Are there dangers involved in going into the wells?” Caryssa asked.
“I don’t think there’s a safer place in all the world than the Chamber of the Roots,” Jeremy replied, avoiding Fallean’s eyes.
“No one could enter without being welcome,” Megan said.
“And no harm has ever come to anyone while they were within it. If there’s any danger at all, it comes after you leave, from how the experience changes you,” Kerrigan continued, though he didn’t sound as confident as Caryssa hoped.
“My mother must have gone there a hundred times at least. As long as I’m permitted in, I should be safe. Of course I’ll try, “ Fallean said, his anticipation mounting along with his concerns. But he wouldn’t deny them.
“Good,” Kerrigan said, more to himself than anyone else. “You have to be careful still, even after they allow you in. If you’re going down, you have to…”
“Let him go, Kerrigan,” Megan stopped him mid-sentence again. Her hand gripped his shoulder. “He’ll figure out what to do. Don’t frighten him. He shouldn’t have preconceptions.”
“Preconceptions?” Fallean asked.
“Something’s changed,” Kerrigan replied. “I can’t explain it well, but the last time…”
“It’s nothing, Fallean. I told you. He’s upset because of all that’s been happening,” Megan stepped between them. “He’s tired, aren’t you, Kerrigan?” she asked him. “He’s been trying too hard.”
Fallean walked around Megan and approached him directly. “Kerrigan? Is there anything else you want to tell me?”
The euphony within the walls of the town smothered the howls of the wolves, but their numbers were multiplying steadily. The green hills surrounding Tallon were overwhelmed by their shadows. For those unfortunates wandering the lands unprotected by the magic of the wells, it was terrifying.
Chapter Thirty-four
“Do you hear that?” Giles asked. He pulled up sharp on his horse’s reins and cocked his head to the side.
“Wolves,” Alemar replied. “Lots of them.”
“If at first you don’t succeed…” Premoran huffed.
They left the Wayward Traveler before the sun rose, traveling east and then turning sharply north toward Pardatha. The sky was littered with clouds still but the smell of smoke had disappeared. The four horses they purchased from the Innkeeper for an outrageous price were not of the best stock, but they were strong and as anxious to leave as they were.
“Are we walking toward them or away from them?” Alemar asked, the wolves’ howls seemed to be coming from all directions.
“Hard to tell,” Premoran replied, with little concern.
“They’re growing louder not because we are walking toward them but because their numbers are increasing,” Teetoo said.
“They’ll not harm us, nor will they slow us down unless we allow them to,” Premoran replied.
“You don’t think they’re tracking us?” Alemar asked.
“My brother wouldn’t be so foolish as to send a pack of wolves after me,” Premoran sneered. “There are others perhaps he wishes to confine, and he may believe we’ll attempt to rescue them.”
“You mean the elves that preceded us? I thought they were already his prisoners?” Giles asked.
“My brother’s intentions are broader than the capture of a few wandering elves. There’s a town he has always had his sights upon not too far from here. It has been a thorn in his side since he first constructed Sedahar, though he has been unable to do anything about it.”
“A town? How could anything exist here and remain independent of him?” Giles asked.
“Have you not heard of Tallon?” Teetoo questioned.
“The place where the song of the Lalas is sung,” Alemar knew of it.
“Yes, my dear. It’s the place where they nourish themselves, where their roots converge,” Premoran said. “But he won’t attack it. He may just be trying to encourage us to remain here,” Premoran explained. “He’d like that very much I suppose,” he mulled, looking at Alemar. “Let’s move now.” The terrain opened up before them and he clicked his horse into a canter, leaving them behind.
The flat, dry surface grew hillier and deeper in color, with scraggly bushes dotting the landscape and dead trees whose barren branches reached spider-like toward the sky. Odd
shaped rock formations loomed on the northern horizon, hot cakes piled atop one another, and pools of water sat upon the surface like windows of smooth glass imbedded in the ground. The horses were frothing at their bits by the time they stopped for a rest.
“Don’t allow them to drink from these pools,” Premoran warned. “They’d not survive the next hour.” Alemar had already pulled her mare’s head away. “They’re as rancid as the air is foul.”
Within minutes, the howling rose up around them again and the horses danced in place, more jittery than before.
“Seems we haven’t lost them,” Giles remarked, looking around.
“I wonder what happened to those elves from Merala da,” Alemar asked, her eyes on the horizon.
“They shouldn’t have difficulty outwitting their captors, from what the innkeeper told me. It’s the hunters tracking them I have more concern for,” Premoran replied.
“Tracking them instead of us.” Alemar gritted her teeth.
“Our mission has taken on a new importance, Princess. Don’t lament that we have evaded an obstacle. The sooner we can get to Pardatha the better,” he said.
“You said the youngling awaits. What did you mean by that, Premoran?” Giles asked. He’d pondered over this since the first mention of it.
“It must choose soon. It has just about reached the age,” Teetoo answered for him.
“You bear a sign that leads me to believe you may be its Chosen, Alemar. All that you have told me portends well for that. If you are not present, it cannot choose you,” Premoran said simply.
“Me?” Alemar sat up so fast she jerked on the reins. “I assumed you meant that I might be able to hear it speak, since I was able to hear Wayfair’s voice. You think I’m the one it wants?” She choked on the words.
“I do, indeed,” Premoran said, his eyes narrowing. “The mark you bear is as significant as you once assumed. I was foolish in not recognizing it before, and I regret my negligence. I put you at risk and I won’t make that mistake again.”
The Revenge of the Elves Page 27
