The Revenge of the Elves

by Gary Alan Wassner

  The doors were wide open. She saw the back of Fallean’s cape before she even entered the room. His auburn hair hung loose upon his shoulders, just as she remembered it. Treestar faced him, talking to him already. Liam stood beside the King.

  “Fallean!” she shouted as she flew into the room.

  He turned to greet her.

  Chapter Fifty-six

  “When was the last time you and Sidra were in contact with one another?” Blodwyn asked. “It has been eight tiels at least,” Aliya replied, her face stiff and proper.

  When Bristar had first summoned her after leaving the council chamber, and she laid eyes upon the Chosen in his study, she had no idea her secret had been discovered. She greeted Blodwyn warmly and expected the conversation to revolve around the Quest and the recent troubles in Tamarand. Bristar would have warned her if she was here about Beolan. But Blodwyn wasted no time with formalities. She barely said hello before she told her she knew Sidra was her sister.

  “Did she come here to see you then?” Blodwyn probed. She was unconcerned the Queen might be discomfited by her awareness. Other issues took precedence over her emotions.

  “We met on the mountain. There is a small cave on the northern side of Silandre. She came to me in a dream, and I realized she wished to see me in person. When I awoke in the morning, I went immediately there and she was waiting for me.” Aliya held her head high but her eyes gave her pain away.

  “I won’t ask why you speak so infrequently. It’s not my concern now. Nor is it my immediate concern why she has estranged herself from everyone else for so long. But I must ask if you can contact her somehow?” Blodwyn’s toe tapped the floor.

  Aliya sat down heavily in one of the big chairs. She brushed her hair back from her forehead and held it behind her head, her thin arm tense and strained. “I have tried many times,” she admitted, her lips a straight line across her face. “I never could accept that my very own sister didn’t want to stay in touch with me. When our parents and our two brothers disappeared with the others in Odelot, I thought she would always try to remain close to me. We were the only ones left. But instead, their loss took her away from me too. I suspect I needed her more than she needed me,” she explained. She smiled a smile of hurt. “I do not know where she resides, nor why she refuses to speak with me.”

  “You said she came to you in a dream the last time? Why? What compelled her to reach out to you then?”

  Bristar saw his wife’s discomfort. He walked up behind her and put his hand upon her shoulder. “Is this really necessary?” he asked. “What is important is whether or not she can contact her now, is it not?”

  Aliya reached back and placed her palm on top of his. “Speaking of this does not make it any worse for me,” she said to him. “There are few days when these thoughts do not enter my own mind.” She turned back to Blodwyn. “She questioned me about a woman whom she had met in Gwendolen. I knew her as a child and she wished to learn as much about her as she could.”

  “Gwendolen?” Blodwyn asked, her chin rising.

  “Yes, the one called Mira. She later became the heir’s guardian,” Aliya said. “Sidra spent a good deal of time with her before the darkness enveloped the kingdom. I believe it was she who taught Mira the art of casting.”

  “How remarkable,” Blodwyn replied. She never imagined. “You knew Mira well yourself? She was not elfin.”

  “Yes, I knew her well when we were quite young. And no, she was not an elf. She was like me, of mixed heritage,” Aliya admitted. She turned her face away and bowed her head.

  “I did not know,” Blodwyn replied, her eyes fixed on Aliya.

  “None who remain alive, save my husband and my sister, know of this,” she said. “Many of us in Odelot were of mixed race.”

  “Were you and Sidra not from a town near Odelot?” This news surprised her too.

  “No. We were born in the city itself. Our parents sent us away for schooling. We were gone when the moment came.” The pain of this retelling showed in her movements, in the curl of her shoulders.

  “The moment?” Blodwyn questioned, though she knew what she referred to.

  “We were not present when everyone disappeared,” Aliya replied. “Would you like to sit? It bothers me that you are standing. It makes me uncomfortable.”

  Blodwyn shrugged. “If you wish,” she replied and pulled a chair up beside her.

  “We never saw our parents, brothers or friends again,” she continued now that she could look directly in her eyes. “My sister was also in love at the time; deeply in love. She was planning their official union. He was the son of the governor of the city,” Aliya recalled. “Her entire world was stolen from her that day. I think she would have preferred it if she had died or disappeared with the others.” She folded her hands in her lap and watched them. “My sister left me shortly after that, on the doorsteps of the school, and I didn’t see her again for a very long time,” She did not look up.

  “Do you know what happened in Odelot?” the Chosen asked.

  “No,” she answered quietly. “I do not. It has been a burden for me my entire life, not knowing the fate of those I loved so much.” A single tear rolled down her cheek. “I chose to move on with my life,” she said, looking up at Bristar. “My sister wasn’t able to do that. Perhaps it was because she was the eldest and she felt the loss more poignantly. I was still a child at the time. I convinced myself that it hurt her to remain in contact with me, and for that reason alone, she refused my entreaties. I must have reminded her of all that she had lost.” Bristar reached for her hand.

  Blodwyn walked to the window and stared out across the rooftops of the city. She stood in silence, her head bowed. I wonder what she saw in the demise of Odelot that has kept her estranged even from her sister? Half elfin as well. Hmmm. Sidra knows more than I suspected

  “It’s obvious to me now that Sidra has had her hand in more events than any of us realized. Far more than I ever imagined,” she finally said. “Her power is great, that we know. Her motives remain unclear, though I’m greatly encouraged by the knowledge of her relationship with Mira. She saved the boy from certain death, and it now appears as if your sister played an active role in preparing for that fateful moment as well.” Blodwyn exhaled. “What I’ve learned from you already is enough to convince the others of her loyalty.”

  Aliya dropped her eyes to the floor. “That is why you wanted me to contact her? You were unsure of her allegiances?” She was offended. Blodwyn’s doubts hurt, even now.

  “I’m sorry to say it, but yes. We needed to know for certain. When she refused the bond, many questioned her motives and her loyalty.”

  Her gaze flashed to the Chosen. “She refused the bond?” Aliya asked. “I had no idea!” She looked at Bristar, confused.

  “She had been the first choice of the great Lalas, Promanthea, and she declined to accept his offer,” Blodwyn said. “This has not been made public for many reasons. We felt it would be unfair to Robyn dar Tamarand for others to know he was not his Lalas’ original choice.”

  “Yes. Refusing the bond would certainly have made the other Chosen suspicious,” Bristar agreed.

  Aliya’s lips pursed. “Until she reconciled the loss of her love, our parent’s and all the others, I believe she wouldn’t have been able to serve as a Chosen. It consumed her,” she explained. “She was always determined to find out what happened. If she had accepted the role of a Chosen, then she could not, in good faith, have devoted her time to this matter any longer, and that would have been impossible for her then. It may still be,” she said. “All these tiels I had no idea. No idea,” she repeated under her breath. “How sad for her to have had to deny herself such an opportunity. She’s sacrificed more than I ever imagined.” Her eyes brimmed with tears.

  “Your sister’s determination to find the answers to Odelot’s doom helps to explain her decision,” Bristar concluded.

  “Yes, it does.” Blodwyn was glad, in a joyless way, that she finally ha
d an explanation for Sidra’s behavior, and that neither arrogance nor contempt was the cause. “I don’t think it will be necessary for you to try to contact her now. The purpose was to determine where her fidelity lay, and I think we’ve answered that question already. I can return to Lilandre with this news,” Blodwyn concluded.

  Aliya stood up and walked to Blodwyn. She took her hand in her own. Her grip was firm. “My secret is safe with you?”

  “Perfectly,” Blodwyn replied. “Why though must you still keep this from the world?” she said softly, inches from her face.

  Aliya didn’t answer right away. When she began to speak, her features were more relaxed, her jaw not as stiff, her voice softer. “I’m not from Crispen and I’m not of pure blood.” Her cheeks reddened. “Though Bristar knew that when he chose me for his bride, I don’t want this to impact upon our son. He is the heir to the throne of Crispen and I fear for him. Sidra does and says whatever she wishes to. That is her way,” she smirked, remembering. “Her reputation, as you well know, is mysterious and many fear her. How might they feel if they discover she is my son’s aunt, their Queen’s sister? We here are more conservative in our manner, and I worry the elves of Crispen might not accept him if they were to find out now. The world is so unsettled as it is.” Aliya let go of the Chosen’s hand and turned her back on both Blodwyn and Bristar. She stared out through the leaded glass.

  “I understand,” Blodwyn nodded. “But there may come a time when you will wish to let them know the truth. I have faith the people of this kingdom will understand in the end.”

  “You are beloved by the elves of Crispen. Their hearts are more generous than you imagine, my dear,” Bristar consoled her.

  “It’s not for my own sake I harbor these concerns, but for our son and the succession,” she replied. She faced them once again. “When he returns…” She didn’t finish her sentence.

  “These decisions need not be made now,” Blodwyn said. She’d said enough, learned enough. “But I must go. This has been informative and I’m grateful. I never wished to cause you pain.” She drew her breaths slowly. “It is crucial we know our friends from our enemies. Our strengths will be tested in the days to come.” She walked toward the exit.

  “These tests, as you call them, began a long time ago,” Bristar replied, his arm around Aliya’s slim waist.

  “They are a part and parcel of life, I’m afraid,” Aliya said. “They begin with birth and they never end.” Her voice was frail and distant.

  “I will find my own way out. It’s not necessary for you to accompany me,” Blodwyn smiled as she pulled the door open. “Farewell.” She whisked through the portal and it shut behind her.

  “Do you really think if the truth were known by everyone that it would be acceptable to them?” Aliya asked Bristar as soon as Blodwyn was gone. “Or would they hold it against me even more for having kept these secrets for so long?” Her face was full of concern.

  “You have not betrayed them, Aliya. We all have demons and heroes in our pasts. What are your demons? That you are of mixed blood? Bah! So what? Who would reject you for such trivial things?”

  “Trivial to you, perhaps,” she frowned.

  “Am I not the King?” he replied. “If this issue is of no significance to me, then it should not be to my people.”

  “Let us tell them then after Beolan returns home safely. He should be present for such a declaration, after we speak with him about it.”

  “So it shall be,” Bristar agreed.

  “Go back to the council chamber now. The ministers must be growing impatient.” He’d left them there in order to join her and Blodwyn.

  “I had forgotten,” he replied.

  “I’ll meet you later. I have some thinking to do first. This has been difficult for me.” She looked up at him with moist eyes. “Perhaps we can have a quiet dinner in the study like in the old days?”

  “I’d like that very much,” he agreed.

  As soon as the door clicked shut, Aliya ran to the window. Something drew her gaze outside. It felt as if someone had been calling her the entire time Blodwyn was there, beckoning her to come. Beolan, she thought. There had always been a special bond between them. She looked to the edge of the woods, hoping it would be him she saw standing there.

  A fox ran for shelter into the nearby trees and she followed it. It must be scavenging for food beside the walls, she thought. Then she saw him. He walked right out from behind a broad tree just to the side of where the fox had dashed. Sitting up tall in his saddle, the wind blew his hair back away from his face. He clasped his horse’s mane in one hand just as he always did, and he rode without the benefit of a bridle or a saddle as she had taught him.

  Beolan! her mind shouted. It’s you! It’s really you. Not my imagination. I felt you coming home. I knew it. She was so overjoyed she could barely breathe.

  She ran from the room as fast as she could. She couldn’t wait to touch him, to hug him, to hold him again. The palace guards were all with the army in Tamarand and no one would delay her bringing him back home. Tears streamed down her face. How happy your father will be.

  Lost in her moment of need, she dashed from the room to greet him.

  Chapter Fifty-seven

  A limb was torn from her body but still she felt it there, still she sensed it. She searched for it everywhere and at times she forgot it was gone at all.

  A lone figure emerged near the main gates. His swagger, the lope of his walk, the angle of his chin, all made her smile. She watched his every move. He tossed his head to the left and the right, he folded his arms across his chest. His sword hung on his left hip, unlike the other soldiers of Eleutheria. But he was always different, always his own man. With her handkerchief, she rubbed the mist off of the window and pressed her face to the glass. His cape lay over one shoulder and his auburn hair was tied back and clasped with the iced-leaf she’d given him. So handsome. So strong. So beautiful.

  You’re home. I’ve missed you, Kalon my darling. I knew you’d return.

  He’d come to her in her dreams. She’d mentioned it to Whitestar but he’d brushed it off, said they were only dreams. He never loved him as she did. Not as she did. His heart belonged to his daughter. But it was Alemar who ruined Kalon. She turned the people against him, forced him to run away. He had no choice. But she never gave up. She knew he’d come back. And now he had.

  She watched him walk to the gates. He’s coming to me. Her pulse quickened. The clasp on his hair glinted, his eyes sparkled. My son. He’s home.

  She threw a shawl around her shoulders and raised it over her hair, then ran out of the room, down the steps arid into the courtyard. Keeping her head low, silent in her slippers, she crossed the narrow plaza. Breathing heavily, she hastened down more stairs to the main gates. The street was empty and she ran unnoticed to the small doorway beside them. The guards were with the army in Concordia, their posts deserted.

  She ran to him. My son! So beautiful, Kalon! He was handsome, healthy. Alive. She’d waited for this moment. Longed for it. She buried her face in his chest.

  “Take me to my father,” he whispered, his lips immersed in her hair.

  Chapter Fifty-eight

  Bethany clenched Sevilla’s hand until it hurt.

  “What is it sister? What’s wrong?” Bethany’s chamber was dark and Sevilla had dozed. The elder sister’s chilled grip startled her.

  “We were wrong,” Bethany whispered, her voice weak, “I was wrong, dreadfully wrong.” A dry cough wracked her frail body.

  Bethany’s fingers went limp and Sevilla quickly lit a candle on the bedside table. “Wrong? Wrong about what?” Sevilla asked. She reached for a glass and held it to Bethany’s lips. She lay against the pillows, her mouth half open, her eyes red and glassy, and took a tiny sip.

  “You must relax, sister. Don’t try to talk.”

  Bethany pushed her hands into the mattress and tried to sit up. “No,” the words were barely audible. “Listen to me.” Bethany co
ughed again, wheezing between the spasms.

  Sevilla fidgeted nervously. She was no healer. “Let me fetch Violet. She’ll relieve your discomfort.” She started to rise but Bethany grabbed her wrist.

  “Don’t leave. Not now.” Her face was etched with lines and her skin was gray and pasty. She collapsed against the headboard.

  A bony finger beckoned to Sevilla. She leaned in close to Bethany’s mouth. “I’m dying. Violet can’t heal me,” the old woman panted, her breath hot against Sevilla’s ear. “Tell the others we were wrong. ‘Our actions speak words’. We were noble, but we were wrong. Tell them.” She closed her eyes.

  “Please, Bethany, let me get Violet. She can help. She’ll…” Sevilla backed away.

  Bethany’s eyes flew open. “No. There’s no time!” Her breath came in fits and spurts. “Listen to me.” She raised one hand and waved Sevilla closer. “The sisters of the sacred place know not what they do.” Bethany’s hand dropped to her side. Sevilla’s face was blank. “The Tomes. The passage from the Tomes. Do you remember it?” Air bubbled through her parched lips. “We sent the map to its doom when we should have sent it somewhere safe!”

  “But what of our purpose changing? We all agreed it was time to relinquish the map?” This time Sevilla didn’t move. Fear kept her rooted in place.

  “Yes, but not time to destroy it. That was Oleander’s request, not ours.” Tears escaped from the corners of her eyes. “The truth is hidden by the action of the Lalas.” She found the strength to keep speaking. “What appears a betrayal,” she repeated another line of the poem. “Oleander seemed to want the Dark One to find the map though he pretended otherwise, and Ormachon gave the location of the heir’s brother away!” It took too many words. Her body lurched forward and she reached for Sevilla’s arm. Clutching it, she spit blood on the wool blanket.” Sevilla couldn’t budge. Bethany’s grip was secure. “Davmiran must hear this. He must. Bring him to me,” she pleaded, her mouth running red with froth.