The Elven Apostate

by Sara C. Roethle

  Thunder rattled the earth beneath her boots, echoing her call. Rissine had unsheathed her rapier, mimicking Elmerah’s stance.

  Elmerah dared a glance at her, surprised since Rissine felt using a weapon to guide one’s magic was amateur.

  “We must be precise,” Rissine explained.

  The demons reached the street in a cacophony of swishing hairy legs and pointed hooves the size of Elmerah’s head.

  “Now!” Rissine shouted.

  Rain burst from the sky, pelleting Elmerah’s face as she directed her lightning toward the front line of demons. Screams and shouts sounded behind her. The tavern patrons must have emerged at the sound of thunder.

  They were just in time to see brilliant lightning surging forth from two directions—each summoned by a single witch—zinging across the first long row of demons. The strikes collided, erupting in a blinding explosion of light.

  The boar demons shrieked, the spiders hissed, flesh and hair sizzled, but still more came, trampling the corpses of their fallen brethren. They didn’t veer toward Elmerah and Rissine further down the street as expected. Instead, they ignored their sole threat and headed right toward the tavern, where Saida and Alluin now stood framed in the outpouring light from the door amongst a crowd of elves and humans. Some patrons screamed and ran back inside. Others fled in different directions into the night.

  Elmerah lowered her cutlass. Sick realization dawned on her as Alluin stepped in front of Saida and lifted his bow. Hotrath, High King of the Akkeri, could summon demons, and he wanted Saida.

  “Get to Saida!” she screamed to Rissine. “It is her they want!”

  But Rissine wasn’t listening. She directed bolt after bolt of lightning into the oncoming horde, thinning their ranks but only by half.

  Elmerah lit her blade with flames, then ran toward Saida and Alluin into the fray of demons. The sharp hiss of raindrops hitting her cutlass was deafening, but her fire burned strong. The cumbersome boars were struggling to climb over demon corpses, but too many spiders were ahead of her, behind her, and all around. If they changed targets, she would die. But she had to risk it. Once the spiders reached Saida and Alluin, they would be overcome in an instant.

  She squinted her eyes against rain and darkness as she ran, racing breathlessly toward the guiding light of the tavern. Closer now, her vision cleared. They were already overcome! The spiders moved too quickly for her to keep track of them. She reached the opened tavern doors and moved past, launching herself into the chaos of spindly legs and plump black abdomens. The boars squealed far off behind her, more frightened of the lightning than their spider kin.

  Fortunately, Elmerah knew exactly what the Ayperos feared. She forced more energy into her burning blade until it shone like a tiny sun. Spiders hissed all around her, trying to leap away, but she showed no mercy, slashing their limbs off to land in sizzling, twitching heaps.

  “Saida!” she called, slashing her way through spider limbs. She glimpsed all the frightened patrons hovering inside the tavern—too frightened to shut the damn doors—but no Alluin nor Saida.

  Rain soaked her hair and clothes, plastering her coat to her body. “Alluin!” she screamed, turning back toward the spiders. They weren’t even attacking her, entirely intent on their purpose.

  “Here!” Alluin’s voice could barely be heard over thunder peals, pounding rain, and hissing spiders.

  She flicked her sopping wet locks out of her face, then starting cutting her way back through the demons. She didn’t understand what they were doing, swarming but not attacking. She realized it too late as she reached Alluin, trapped in the midst of the spiders, his bow nowhere to be seen.

  He lifted slime-coated daggers in each of his hands. “Find Saida!” he urged. “They carried her off!”

  The spiders’ intent clicked into place. They were swarming in this mind-boggling manner to prevent her and Alluin from going after Saida. They might not be intelligent beasts, but whoever was directing them was.

  “Son of a muckdwelling bristlepig!” she cursed, stepping a safe distance from Alluin. She lifted her cutlass, pumping so much magic into it that she was on the brink of burning out. Flames whipped around her, forcing the spiders back.

  In flashes of crackling lightning, she spotted two figures far beyond, standing atop the hill opposite the one the demons had descended. A man’s silver hair whipped in the storm winds, and a gleaming circlet was upon his brow. She’d never seen the circlet in person—only the velvet box which had contained it—but she knew what it was. Malon was wearing the Crown of Arcale, and he’d used its magic to summon demons. All so he could kidnap the elven priestess now grasped in his arms.

  Saida sagged in his grip. Elmerah could only pray she was not dead. Even from the distance, with lightning flashing, Malon’s eyes met hers. She watched him through gaps of hairy spider legs, growing thicker around her, blocking her way to Saida. She’d never break through their ranks in time. Malon smiled, then turned away.

  “Saida!” Elmerah screamed, slashing her burning blade through the Ayperos. Her arms throbbed, and cold rain chilled her to the bone. She could sense Alluin at her back protecting her as she made way through the spiders. Rissine’s lightning crashed closer and closer, but she could not wipe out many of the spiders at once, lest she hit her trapped allies.

  Elmerah screamed again, a hot cry of rage as she continued to slash through the spiders. Blood and other fluids coated her face and hair, too thick to be washed away by the rain.

  She barely felt any of it. Barely recognized the danger she was still in. She had promised to protect Saida, and she had failed.

  * * *

  Saida

  Saida fought every moment for wakefulness. She remembered the spiders, so many spiders rushing toward her. Then . . . nothing. But her head ached horribly, someone was carrying her, and she needed to wake up. Blessed Arcale, please let me wake up, she thought, but the sky god did not answer.

  The person carrying her slowed, then she was handed off to someone else. Finally, she managed to open her eyes, but the night was so dark she couldn’t see who now held her like a child in their arms.

  “Don’t worry, priestess,” a young man’s voice soothed. “You are safe.”

  She’d feel a lot safer if she actually recognized the man’s voice. Where were Alluin and Elmerah? Where were the spiders?

  “Open the door,” a woman said somewhere to her left, another unrecognized voice.

  She heard the creaking of a door, then felt a soft cushion beneath her. The arms of the man carrying her pulled away.

  Boots stomping. More people getting into the . . . carriage. That’s what it was, she was in a carriage. She groaned, regaining a bit of control over her body. She rubbed her head and tried to sit up.

  “Should we give her more?” the woman asked. “She woke more quickly than we expected.”

  “No, let her wake,” a new man’s voice replied, this time, one she recognized. “She must have worked at building up a tolerance to bloodflower extraction since we last met. Clever girl.” Silence for a moment, then, “Help her sit up.”

  Hands grasped her arms just as the carriage started moving. She weakly shoved them away. He was right, she’d dosed herself many times with weak concoctions of bloodflower extraction to build up a tolerance, though it seemed it hadn’t been enough. The spiders must have knocked her unconscious, then she’d been dosed to keep her that way. Just how long had she been out? How far from Skaristead was she now? For surely, with that voice she recognized, she was no longer in the care of friends.

  She rubbed her eyes, leaning heavily against the carriage cushion, then opened them, but it was black as night in the carriage. Even with her superior night vision, it was difficult to make out the shadowy forms—two sitting across from her and one beside. She could see their reflective eyes though. They were all Faerune elves.

  A small light came into existence, temporarily blinding her. Slowly, her eyes adjusted and landed on Malon, a
small white wisplight hovering over his outstretched palm, swaying gently with the movement of the carriage.

  “Hello, Saida.”

  She glared at him, not missing the Crown of Arcale upon his brow. “How dare you wear that,” she rasped, her words feeling sluggish. “You are a traitor to our people.”

  “Saviors often begin as traitors, in one way or another.”

  She glanced at the other elves, the male beside Malon, and the female beside her, though she did not recognize them. They were either exiles, or those who Malon convinced to stand down when the Dreilore attacked.

  “Where are Alluin and Elmerah?” she snapped, then reflexively raised a hand to her aching brow.

  “They are unharmed,” Malon explained. “As I told you before, I hope that you will not hate me. I would not harm your closest friends, though they are my enemies.”

  Tears stung her eyes. The last thing she wanted to do was cry, but she’d been holding in these tears far too long. She could not force down the swelling of emotion. “You killed my mother!” she shrieked, lunging for him. “You killed her!” Her voice cracked as the two unnamed elves shoved her back, then pinned her shoulders against her seat. “How dare you?” she gasped. “How dare you ask me not to hate you?”

  Malon’s brow furrowed. “I did not kill your mother, Saida. I was not present when that happened. She was supposed to be safe in one of the High Temple’s hidden rooms.”

  Unable to use her hands, she bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to make it bleed. The sharp pain helped steady her. “You may not have held the blade, Malon, but you killed her. You killed every elf that died that day, and I will never forgive you. I will not rest until you pay for your crimes.”

  He leaned back against his seat with a huff. He wore a blue tunic embroidered with silver, the designs evident in the wisplight now hovering freely at his shoulder. Fine clothes for a rebel, she thought, far finer than those worn by his two comrades still pinning her, because knowing him, he believed he was better than them all.

  “Why did you enlist into the guard?” she asked bitterly. “With your magic, you could have been of higher station.”

  “Not high enough.” He looked to the elves on either side of her. “Let her go. If she attacks again, let me handle it.”

  They released her and returned to their seats, neither saying a word. The carriage ambled onward, carrying her farther and farther from her friends, and from her father in Faerune. This loss would be unbearable to him. He’d already lost his wife, she could not abandon him. She just needed to find a way to escape.

  “Where are we going?”

  Malon lifted a brow. “Does it matter?”

  She stared, hoping her eyes conveyed exactly what she thought of him.

  “We’re going to our temporary home. You’ll be safe from the Akkeri there, and from Egrin Dinoba.”

  He must think her an utter fool to believe he would shelter her from Egrin. “You are working with Dinoba. Could you not barter for my safety another way?”

  The first bit of emotion she’d seen from him tugged his lips into a bitter smile. “Dinoba is no better than the High Council. I worked with him as long as I needed, and now with this,” he tapped the circlet, “I need him no longer. You are right, I could have easily attained a higher station within Faerune, but I would not waste my gifts on making the plants grow.”

  Just how much magic did he have? If he was able to use the Crown of Arcale to summon demons, what else could he do?

  “I see you’re beginning to understand,” he said. “I am stronger than any guessed, and with my new allies, I will create a new Faerune.”

  The rocking of the carriage increased. A more primitive road now than before. “What new allies?”

  “The Makali of the Helshone Desert.”

  Her jaw dropped. Nothing could have shocked her more. The Capital of the Helshone Desert was ruled by the Lukali, a civilized race. They held trade treaties with both Faerune and Galterra. The Makali, however, were wild barbarians, long separated from their civilized kin.

  Malon smiled while she processed his words.

  The mention of the Makali led her to a single, terrifying thought. “You’re taking me to the Helshone Desert.”

  His smile broadened, though the other two elves seemed uneasy with this talk. “Yes, Saida. I daresay, your friends will never find you there. And you will not escape me, for to travel across the desert alone is a death sentence. So you may as will sit back and listen to what I have to say.”

  Saida dove from her seat, evading the female elf’s grasp as she landed hard on the floor. She rolled onto her back. The male elf stood as much as the carriage would allow and she lashed out, kicking him in the knee. He fell away with a shout, then she rolled away from the female elf and reached for the carriage door.

  Hands grabbed her shoulders, pulling her back. She screamed at the top of her lungs. She thrashed against that grip. If she could escape this carriage, she might be able to disappear into the darkness.

  The grip tightened, and Malon pulled her back against his chest. One strong hand grasped her jaw, his elbow pinning her against him. With his other hand, he lifted a vial of red liquid and lifted it to her nose. The bloodflower extraction wouldn’t knock her out for long, but if they kept dosing her, she’d be asleep all the way to the Helshone. She had to escape. She had to—

  Her eyes fluttered shut. The grip on her jaw became less painful.

  “You will understand in time, Saida,” Malon’s voice was soft in her ear. “You will understand that I never meant to harm you. You will be our people’s savior, Saida. The crown of Cindra is meant to rest upon your brow.”

  Blackness took her, and the carriage continued on, carrying her far away from anything she had ever known, and everything she had ever loved.

  * * *

  Elmerah

  Morning had come. With the help of Elmerah’s fire, the townsfolk had piled and burned the demon corpses. No one else had a better idea of what to do with them. They couldn’t leave them to rot in the streets. Mostly Ayperos had been killed, but the few dead massive boars stunk more than twenty spiders. The rays of dawn over Skaristead barely pushed through the smoke.

  Elmerah hadn’t wanted to stay to help. She’d wanted to drown her failure in ale, but there hadn’t been time. After a fruitless search for Saida, she, Alluin, and Vessa sought the missing Valeroot clans, while Rissine searched for where the demons had gone.

  Rissine had come back with no further information. Elmerah wished it had been the same for her. Fifteen elves had been killed by the passing demons. They’d found the rest of the traveling clans preparing the bodies for burial rites. Alluin had sent those still living on ahead to Faerune, assuring them he’d see to the bodies. Those dead had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, directly in the path of the charging demons.

  Elmerah, Alluin, and Vessa had piled the bodies and burned them, just like they’d been doing with the demons all morning. Good and evil, all going back to the earth and sky in the same way.

  Exhausted, she flicked her flaming blade at the last of the spiders that had been dragged far off from the settlement in horse-drawn wagons. She wrinkled her nose at the acrid scent, commingling with wet soil and wood from last night’s rain. How was she going to face Ivran? She knew it was upon her to tell him. She was the one who was supposed to protect Saida.

  Well her, and the elf now standing at her side. Alluin looked even more tired than she felt. His face when they’d found his slaughtered kin . . . she could have sworn they were back in Galterra on that rainy night where he’d found her, his hands stained with the blood of fallen elves. Even finding the rest alive had not chased the shadows from his eyes.

  Those haunted green eyes landed on the burning pile of spiders. “What do we do now?” he muttered. “How do we find her?”

  She let the flame die from her blade. “We don’t. She could be anywhere.”

  He blinked at her. His tunic wa
s still damp from the night before. “We at least have to try.”

  She turned to fully face him. “What we have to do is kill Egrin Dinoba and his pompous little cousin.” She flourished her cutlass with her words. “We have to end this, Alluin. We can only hope that end will return Saida to us.”

  He shook his head. “She was taken by Malon. She might not be with the emperor when we find him.”

  Ice shot through her heart. Malon. They should have never trusted him. She didn’t think for a second he would give Saida to the Akkeri. He was too proud an elf to stoop so low, but he might give her to Egrin. The question was, why? The only reason Egrin had wanted her was to give her to the Akkeri, and he’d already used them as much as he needed. He might want her gift of seeing through illusions and magic, but he already had Thera for that . . .

  Unless Thera was dead. A death for which she’d not spare even a heartbeat of mourning.

  Alluin watched her, waiting for her to speak, but there were no words. She felt in her heart that Malon wanted Saida for himself, she just didn’t understand why.

  Her shoulders slumped as her anger leaked away, replaced by fear. “We don’t know him at all. Malon might as well be a stranger to us. There is no telling where he would take Saida, and the tracks we followed ended at a stream not far off, so we don’t even know which direction to search. All we can say is that he is unlikely to kill her. He wants her alive, so for now, she is safe. Perhaps safer than any of the rest of us.”

  Alluin glanced over his shoulder at the sound of voices. Rissine and Vessa were approaching from the direction of town, leading their four horses. With Saida gone, there was now a mount for Vessa. It was time to return to Faerune. “You’re right,” Alluin breathed. “I hate it, but you’re right. We need to focus on Egrin, but we can hardly call our gathering in Faerune an army. If we march on Galterra, we’ll be slaughtered.”

  She glanced back toward Rissine, now not far off, and lowered her voice. “That’s why just you and I will find him. We’ll bring Isara, and that’s it. We will not tell any of the others we’re leaving. We cannot risk that there are yet spies within Faerune, and we cannot risk that the High Council will keep us locked within the city.”