“With all this talk we have quite forgotten the most important person here,” Lily spoke up with a slight edge to her voice. “Adults are always trying to decide what is best for their children. I think we should all hear what Alahim has to say.”
All faces turned towards the boy. Tarthur didn’t see his nervousness reflected in Alahim’s visage. After all, he had seen skull knights, which was much more than Tarthur and Derlin had seen before deciding to set out. Alahim got to his feet, surveyed the eyes of the others present, and spoke out in a clear, powerful voice. “I’ll do it.”
The council was silent for a minute until Yvonne fixed her gaze deep into his eyes. “Son, you do not know what will be required of you.” She wiped back a strand of golden hair that fell softly down her cheek. “Don’t you want to think about this more?”
Alahim looked like thinking about it was the last thing he wanted to do, as if trying to understand what he was volunteering for would cause him to run as far away from the task as he could. “I was born for this. If it will help us get Yan and the Power of Air, then I will do it.”
Tarthur was about to object, but the words jumbled themselves together in his throat, several contradictory sentiments trying to escape all at once.
Derlin came to his rescue. “The Wall of Glass is far away. Nothing needs to be decided today. We can proceed, and modify the plan as we get closer if anything happens.”
No one could really argue this point, so the discussion moved on. Tarthur let his wife begin the questioning—as he could easily tell that she was anxious. There was so much that Yvonne wanted to know, she barely knew where to start. “What do they want with Alahim? Who was the woman who attacked me?”
“As for what your attacker wants with Alahim,” Zelin answered, “I believe that she wants to enter the Vale. The Eternal Vale is a place of great beauty and power. There are many who want to enter and unlock its secrets. I do not know what they plan. The prophecy states that the One will ‘open the way.’ Perhaps she believes she may go in after him. Or perhaps she is working for another. If she was indeed an elf, perhaps those from Breshen will have more insight as to who she is than I do.”
All heads turned to King Dalin. “What was your attacker like?” he questioned.
Yvonne had had three occasions to be very close to the attacker in the last few weeks, and had no trouble giving a detailed physical description of everything from the blue hair to the firm jaw to the mocking smile.
“How was her…mind?” Dalin pressed. “Was she always in control of herself? Did she show a variety of emotions?”
“She was definitely in control,” Yvonne mused. “I do not think she showed many emotions. She was always calm and confident, so detached, like she could kill you and never feel a shred of remorse.”
Dalin seemed eager for her reply, but Tarthur wasn’t sure whether he was relieved or not by Yvonne’s words. “Every so often an elf decides to leave the community at Breshen and find their own way in the world. Although it is rare, they sometimes fall in with darker ways and choose a path antithetical to the life-adoring traditions of our history. It is a sad thing, but cannot be denied.”
“Yvonne described her attacker in very specific terms,” Derlin said, eyeing his king closely. “I have never seen anyone matching her description before. Do you know who she is or who she may be working for?”
“There has been no one like that in Breshen for quite some time,” Dalin said.
All eyes passed to Valena, but she shrugged her shoulders. “King Dalin knows the elven community much better than I do.”
“She was strong, but now that we are all together we should be able to protect Alahim from here to the Vale,” Garseon spoke for the first time. “Combined, we should be able to deal with her and the skull knights.”
“Speaking of the skull knights,” Fientien broke in, “we have not seen them in many years. How is it that they are back now?” The dwarf paused and then haltingly asked the question at the back of his mind. “Could Darhyn be back too?”
“I surmise that since the dark elf was working with the skull knights, they were both sent by the same person, presumably to try to enter the Vale.” Zelin responded, keeping his words even. “We may learn something more about who controls these skull knights by knowing more about their existence. They are made by burying a dead body in a special graveyard that has intersecting streams of magergy. A special spell is necessary to bind them to their master’s will. This bond is potent and permanent. Thus, when Darhyn was defeated in the War of the Orb most of his skull knights simply slumped over and returned to death.”
“The gate to the world where Darhyn is imprisoned has not been breached. We keep close watch over the portal and the network of magicians would be alerted immediately if he were to attempt to cross. It is safe to say that Darhyn has not returned. However, there are many who have tried to raise skull knights over the centuries. These are probably the creation of either the dark elf or some other wizard. In any event, I do not think this person is powerful enough to stop us on our journey to the Vale.” Zelin folded his long silver beard after speaking.
Garseon asked the question on everyone’s minds. “Is this our course of action, then? Should we attempt entry now?”
“We may not have much time,” Zelin said. “I do not know why Tivu chose now to appear. I do not think it is a coincidence that he and our enemy have both started to show their hands. However, it is common for magic to be pegged to important life events. Births, marriages, puberty, all can set off spells. It is possible that Tivu has appeared because Alahim has only now become old enough.”
“If we do act now and move towards the Vale,” Tarthur said, trying to hide his inner turmoil, “what is the farthest point we can go to and still turn back?”
“As long as we are in control,” Addyean answered, wrinkling his forehead, “we should be able to turn back up until the point when we arrive at the Wall of Glass. If we decide that we are walking into a trap, we can always change plans.”
“We must meet with the Shade of Tivu,” Zelin said, stroking his long grey beard. He became more certain even as he mulled their options. “We must do so knowing that we could be walking into a trap. I do not know Tivu, but I am afraid of who or what he would sacrifice to gain entry to the Vale.”
“At this point, we cannot even be certain that this shade is indeed Tivu,” Derlin commented. After Darhyn had fooled them in the War of the Orb, Derlin wasn’t about to make any assumptions that could come back to completely undermine all of their plans. Tarthur couldn’t agree more. It was like raising an arch in the desert with the keystone made out of ice. Things might seem workable at first, but soon everything would be crashing down in chaos.
“This is a critical point,” Zelin said. “Yet, we still must meet with him. Perhaps after doing so we will have a better idea of who he is and what his motivations are.”
“We need not all go,” Addyean commented. “We must travel in a group large enough to protect Alahim but small enough to move quickly and evade detection.”
Tarthur was amazed how fast priorities had turned to protecting Alahim. “Yvonne and I will go. That much must be a given.”
Derlin stood up. “I will journey too, wherever my friend needs me. And it will be safer for Lily and Valena to accompany us. After what happened to Yvonne, I do not trust them to be anywhere else.”
“I will go as well,” Dalin said forcefully, his long raven hair falling about his shoulders as he rose from his seat. “In truth, I may serve Breshen better from outside her borders than from within.”
“The dwarves must be represented,” Fientien spoke up, not sure of his place on the council, but emboldened by the spell that they had cast. “Whoever attacked you has also released the skull knights. While they roam the world, the dwarves will have no peace. Our paths must converge for a while longer.”
Surprisingly, no one contradicted him. Perhaps it was the spell, or perhaps it was his charm—he cou
ld be quite agreeable when not trying to be offensive—but they seemed to have grudgingly begun to accept him.
“My contract is to guard Yvonne,” Garseon said, fingering the tip of his blowgun. “Where she goes, I go.”
Zelin spoke with a grim determination, almost hoping someone would insist that he stay. Yet, his body was strong, brimming with an eager readiness. The contradiction was puzzling. “I must go as well,” he finished simply, offering no other explanation. He looked around the room. Only Artholeus and Addyean were left.
“Although I wish to see the gate opened with my own eyes, I must stay here,” the old man said dejectedly. “You know that my sunset years have been upon me for too long to make a trip of this magnitude. I am now at the point in my life where a different kind of trip to the Vale is not far off.”
All eyes turned to Addyean. “I too wish to see the opening of the Vale,” the farmer-spy said. “Yet, with the importance and secrecy of these events, I feel that my place is to warn King Garkin. We could send another messenger, but that would require entrusting our plan to him. My skill as a fighter is not what it used to be. I am sure that another guard might take my place.”
Tarthur was sad that Addyean was not going with them. He had always looked up to the man. Tarthur’s respect for him came from the fact that Addyean would believe a child when he said he meant to do something, no matter how ridiculous it might seem to a normal adult. Still, King Garkin did have to be warned. Tarthur and Zelin had told him what they knew when they passed through Tealsburg and he assumed that Yvonne had relayed information to him through Yvette when she had exchanged guards. The most recent revelations about Alahim were stunning, however, and the king should be informed of them immediately.
The council turned to logistical issues for a few minutes before disbanding. When they exited the chamber, they were somber but relieved. Many questions still lingered, but at least now they had a plan. The journey never seemed so far as when there was no path to walk on. Now, they had freely bound their lives together and were about to set off to the unseen future. The fact that none of them knew the machinations of their enemy was a good thing. If they knew the horrors that the coming months would bring, they would have wished that they had never set foot inside the library of Deguz.
***********************
It was well after nightfall by the time she returned. The island was silent as usual—crickets knew better than to bring forth their song in this place. The dragging of the bottom of her small boat against the rocky sand of the beach first alerted him that she had arrived. He waited as he heard the soft crunch of her footsteps rising in volume as she got closer and closer.
She stepped into the clearing and Corizaz almost felt a pang of pity. Her body was exhausted from her long trek. Perhaps he had pushed her too hard. He made a mental note that next time he should let her rest for at least a few hours along the way. Despite such intimate familiarity with the intricacies of human bodies, he was occasionally surprised at their weakness, especially when the body was controlled by one with a dominant life-force.
He was glad that she was back, however, because time was running short and he wished to talk with her while she was close. It was true that her mind was but an extension of his own and that he could direct her actions from afar, but in order to understand her experiences in detail he needed to touch her. Her next action might have seemed strange if any observer would have dared to venture in on their private moment. She simply went into her tent and went to sleep.
Corizaz almost envied her. She looked so peaceful as her chest slowly rose and fell. Her hair fell back on her cot and her entire body seemed to lose the perpetual cat-like tightness that made her always ready to spring into action.
Neither sleep nor peace was meant for Corizaz. Sleep was used by humans for repairing their bodies and replenishing expended magergy and energy. Corizaz’s body was made of organic material, but did not require recharging. When his cells became old and damaged, he simply replaced them with new material from humans he had captured. This process, coupled with his close proximity to the magergy intersection points of the Isle of the Dead had made his body nearly as impervious as those of the skull knights.
Peace, also, was not meant for him. Peace was meant for those who wished to keep the world the way it was. Peace meant maintaining the world in its normal state of equilibrium. No, power was Corizaz’s destiny. The path to change the world from its current state to the point where Corizaz exclusively ruled was fraught with violence and bloodshed and did not pass through the way station of peace.
It did not matter that she was asleep. Actually, it was easier this way. Corizaz had never used words to talk to his warrior. Since they were of one mind, they simply communicated by sharing thoughts. However, sometimes it was helpful to put those thoughts into words. It helped him clarify exactly what he was thinking and make sure that there were no mistakes. Also, by playing the two different parts of his consciousness off each other he could be certain that he explored all of the possibilities. So he widened the connection and plunged into her sleeping mind. The words were not spoken or even felt, they were simply thought by both simultaneously.
“I have failed us. I could not bring him back. You did what you could. I should have succeeded. That is true, but of no consequence now. There is another way. If I could have controlled him completely, that would have been best. Another way? I have made a special dart…special conducting herbs have been mixed with my own powerful magic. If this mixture gets into his bloodstream, it will allow me a window into his mind. I can do that. Just give me the dart. In time, you will have it. First, you need to understand why it is important to the plan. This is only the first step. Once inside, I will know so much more. Tivu will trade the Power of Air for a chance to enter. I need this as insurance for the later steps. Will you be coming with me this time? No, not yet. Our army is nearing completion, but He will require much more if He is to successfully challenge their three elements of power. I must stay here to continue the task. But I will be with you, as always. I know you are. You give me purpose.”
He abruptly broke off, stepping back and panting. His raspy breath condensed into small droplets of water against his parched lips. It was always dangerous to connect to her that closely. For one thing, there was a part of her old mind still left inside. He had originally thought that all of her higher mind had been destroyed, but later he had learned that there was a small part left. He did not believe it was enough to let her live without him, yet he was worried that something from her past would trigger her to rebel and reveal his plan. It was extremely difficult to keep one part of his thoughts separate from the rest, but with time and practice he had learned to do it. At first, he had tried to hide trivial things from her, such as the location of a bowl of food or a shiny ribbon. As the years passed, he had learned to hide his innermost thoughts from her as well. It was vitally important that no one understand his plan, for it required backstabbing the one being who was a master at stabbing others in the back.
He walked over to a flat rock that served as a crude table. On it was a small gilded wooden box. With a barely audible click, he released the polished bronze latch that held the lid in place and opened the box to reveal the dart resting on a cushion of black velvet. The shaft of the dart was longer and thicker than usual. It was nearly half a centimeter in diameter. The tip was smooth and hollow at the end, allowing injection of the fluid that the shaft contained. Four smooth black feathers graced the other end, rising gradually at the tip end and falling sharply towards the back of the dart. When loaded into her blowgun, the feathers would be compressed and would spring to life once ejected.
He fingered the dart delicately, mentally checking and rechecking every aspect of its construction. It was nearly perfect in every way—only one thing was missing.
He had to make it his.
He rolled it in his hand, letting the tip come close to his cold skin. He hesitated only a moment before plunging the dart i
nto his heart, letting his blood fill it up and mix with the potion inside. He felt the effect of the herbs mingling through his consciousness, forging an open-ended connection.
It was over almost as soon as it had begun. He wrenched the dripping dart from his chest, feeling the wound inside of him close up as he did so. It felt almost…sacred.
Corizaz gently wiped the excess blood from the dart with his cloak, and reverently replaced the dart in the box. He would let her sleep until morning, and then send her on her way again. The click of the bronze latch and the slow rhythm of her breathing were the only sounds that disturbed the eerie stillness of the Isle of the Dead.
There could be no failure this time.
***********************
The late afternoon sun was flirting with the horizon, sending its reflected fire out across the restless water. The tide had waxed to its peak, rising until it almost touched the piers. Several fishing boats were moored already, and more were coming in each minute. The fishing industry was vitally important to the economy of Deguz. Their soil was too salty for growing staple crops, yet the salt did have an advantage. They were able to export large amounts of salted fish to the major grain producing cities of the southern grasslands.
No matter how long she lived, Yvonne would always be surprised at how quickly things could change. Days ago, she had been running for her life. Hours ago, she had been filthy yet alert. And now she was so incredibly relaxed and comfortable, it was almost as if the harrowing flight to Deguz had just been a distant, unpleasant memory. Perhaps it had never really happened—it could have been a dream or even a story she heard about someone else.
Lands of Daranor: Book 02 - ProphecyQuest Page 12
