by Lana Axe
“Good morning, Doozle,” she said, scratching the dog behind one ear. He licked her hand in reply, and the two of them continued until they reached her father and the small flock of sheep he was taking to town.
“You look much better this morning,” Darvil observed.
“I feel much better,” she replied. “Can I come to town with you?”
“Might as well,” he replied with a shrug.
The trio set off for town, following the dirt path that led away from their farm. All the while, Doozle nudged the sheep along, taking pride in a job well done. The pace was slow and casual, the sheep having no desire to be quickly sold at market.
The mountain air still had a touch of coolness to it, despite the impending arrival of summer. Kaiya enjoyed the fresh air, which still smelled of the previous night’s rain. Mountain winters could be rather cruel, and she was determined to enjoy every moment of the warm-weather season. Descending slightly through the mountains, the village awaited just ahead of them in the distance.
“I suppose I should have brought some of Mum’s knitting to market,” Kaiya said. “She’ll be unhappy with me that I didn’t.”
“Too late now,” Darvil replied.
Her father had never taken much interest in conversation, so Kaiya decided to walk in silence the rest of the way.
The town was already bustling with activity when they arrived. Many farmers and craftsmen had set up stalls to peddle their goods. Miners were passing by in large groups, heading for the caves where sparkling treasures patiently awaited their arrival. Soon the mountains would ring with the sound of their hammers.
As she neared the town, Kaiya’s head started to feel heavy. Once again she felt the nausea in her stomach, but she did her best to shake it off. She could feel a strong magical presence but had no idea what it might be. To her knowledge, she was the only living dwarf with any magical abilities.
“You look pale, child,” Darvil said, placing a hand on his daughter’s arm. “Are you sick again?”
Kaiya shook her head. “I’m fine, Papa. I need only to sit a moment.” She took a seat on the stone steps that led into the village. “You go on ahead,” she said.
With a sigh, Darvil turned and headed into town with his sheep. Doozle whimpered and lay down on the grass next to Kaiya. She stroked his soft fur, happy to have his companionship. A gentle breeze caressed her face, and she closed her eyes as if to block out the world. Focusing only on her breathing, she felt less sick.
Suddenly, she felt as if someone were watching her, and she jumped to her feet. Looking around, she could see no one nearby. The feeling, however, did not leave her. Something was definitely aware of her presence, as she was of it. Her heart pounded in her chest as she entered the town. The feeling only became stronger, leading her to the far end of town near the mining caves. Doozle trotted along beside her, completely unaware of her concern.
As she approached one of the caves, an intense feeling of dread overcame her, forcing her to take a step back. Breathing deeply to regain her composure, she swallowed once and continued forward. Cautiously, she entered the cave, curious as to what she might find.
Inside it was completely still, and the air was cool and damp. The metallic ringing of hammers in the depths of the cave filled her ears, making it difficult to concentrate. Her nerves were beginning to take over, and she hesitated to go deeper into the cave. Drawn forward only by her curiosity, she resolved to find the source of the magic she was sensing.
The cave walls sparkled as she moved between the oil lamps affixed to the walls. Following the mining path, she inched deeper inside. The pounding in her chest grew stronger, along with the throbbing in her head. Surely she was approaching whatever magic was causing her discomfort.
“Halt there, girl!” a voice rang out from the darkness.
Startled, Kaiya stopped in her tracks. A man with a torch was approaching her, marching heavily on the stone floor.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
“I, I...,” Kaiya stumbled. Her gray eyes flashed with magic as she searched for the correct words to say.
“I know you,” the dwarf said angrily. “You’re that witch girl. You’re the one causing the problems with the mines. Get out of here or I’ll give you a sound beating!” He swung his torch angrily at her.
Kaiya moved back, avoiding the swinging torch. Doozle barked aggressively at the miner, ready to defend his friend.
“Get that mutt out of here too!” he demanded.
“There’s something inside this cave,” Kaiya replied hotly. “I can sense it.”
“Damn right there is,” he replied. “There’s a witch in here, and there’s going to be trouble if she doesn’t get out!”
Kaiya’s eyes continued to flash as she suppressed the anger inside her. “You’re an old fool,” she said. “There’s something magical in here, and I’m probably the only person around here who can figure out what it is.”
“It’s a curse you’ve left on us, no doubt,” the dwarf spat.
Several miners had come to witness the commotion and were standing close behind the man with the torch.
“She’s the one,” one of them whispered. “She put the spell on us.”
Kaiya wrinkled her brow, clueless as to what they meant. “I haven’t done anything,” she insisted. “I came only to see what it was I felt. There is a magical being inside this cave.”
“Yes, and if she doesn’t get out, I’m going to bury a pickaxe in her skull!” A miner stepped forward raising his weapon high in the air.
Doozle continued to bark, but Kaiya pulled him back. “Come on,” she said as she backed away from the crowd. As she turned to leave, a rock hit her on the shoulder. Soon, several of the miners were throwing rocks at her, forcing her to run from the cave.
Outside in the daylight, a few miners were about to enter the cave for work. They stared untrustingly at Kaiya as she fled, but none of them spoke a word. Hurrying back to the market, Kaiya looked among the crowd for her father. Spotting him near the smithy, she slowed her pace and approached him.
“Papa,” she said. “There’s magic in one of the mining caves. I couldn’t tell what it was before the miners chased me out. I think it might be dangerous.”
Darvil and Ortin, the blacksmith, exchanged glances.
“They accused me of being a witch and said I’d cursed them,” she continued.
“There are rumors of sickness in the mines,” Ortin said. “They must think you’re the cause.” Ortin’s dark eyes looked sympathetically at Kaiya.
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Darvil replied. “She’d never harm a soul!”
“People have always been suspicious of her,” Ortin remarked. “She’s different, and they’re ignorant.”
“My magic isn’t used for curses,” Kaiya said. “I have never studied such a thing. Why would they think I want to hurt them?”
“Because they don’t know any better,” Darvil said. “We’ve kept you shut away too much, I suppose. We should have brought you to town more so people could see that you weren’t any different from them.”
“I stayed away because they were mean to me, Papa. You didn’t have anything to do with it. It was my choice.”
“They don’t seem to have trouble with the magic runes that Trin carves,” Ortin said. “But that’s not the same as what you can do.” He stroked his black beard before continuing. “You can conjure magic from the air. No dwarf in my lifetime has done such a thing. They don’t know what to think of you.”
“They can think whatever they like, but that’s no excuse to be ugly. They threw stones at me.” Her voice was full of contempt.
“They trust magic that comes from a hammer and chisel,” Darvil said. “They don’t trust what they can’t understand. I don’t understand it myself, but I know you wouldn’t hurt anyone.”
“There she is!” The dwarf she had first met in the cave had followed her back to town. “She’s the one
who caused the illness, and I caught her in the cave making sure the curse stuck!”
“That’s a lie!” she shouted back.
Some of the townsfolk looked up from their work, straining to hear what the yelling was about. A few of them felt brave enough to approach. Darvil stepped between his daughter and the angry miner.
“Listen here,” he stated. “If you raise one hand to my daughter again, you’ll have me to deal with.”
“Take that witch of yours and get out of here, farmer,” the dwarf replied. “Get out of here before there’s trouble.”
“You’re standing in my smithy,” Ortin broke in. “You can get out of here before there’s trouble.” Ortin gripped a large hammer tightly in his hand and lifted it so the miner could see he was serious.
“You better lift that curse, witch,” he said, pointing at Kaiya. With those words, he turned and headed back to the caves.
“I don’t need you to fight my battles, but thank you,” Kaiya said.
“You start using your magic against them and there will be real trouble,” her father warned. “It’s best to let us deal with it.” He nodded his thanks to Ortin and took his daughter by the arm. “Let’s get back home,” he said.
Reluctantly, Kaiya joined him on the road home and maintained her silence. She was determined to find the source of the magic and learn whether it had anything to do with the illness Ortin had mentioned. Worry lay heavily on her mind as she walked, while Doozle trotted alongside without a care in the world.
Chapter 6
Stepping up onto the riverbank, River glanced around at the gathered crowd. Ryllak motioned for his son to follow him as he walked away from the commotion.
“What did the Spirit tell you?” he asked.
“Only that there is a sickness among the dwarves in the mountains. There is evil there.”
Ryllak looked at the ground and back at his son. “Did the Spirit say what this sickness is? Are our people in danger?”
“He did not say,” River replied, shaking his head.
Pushing his way through the crowd, Galen came to River’s side. “Looks like there’s a bit of excitement here today,” he said with a smirk.
Ryllak gave him a chiding look, displeased with the young elf’s cheerful disposition. “This isn’t something to be made light of,” he said. “There is trouble in the mountains, and trouble could always make its way here.”
“My apologies,” Galen replied, bowing his head slightly and biting his lip.
River sighed, glancing between his father and Galen. “What will they do with the body?”
“It will be taken to Myla at the House of Medicine. She will make arrangements for it.” Ryllak glanced back over his shoulder at the dwarf. The elves were lifting him onto a stretcher for transport.
“Couldn’t we take him back to his family?” River asked.
“That would prove a difficult task,” Ryllak replied. “It’s a long journey into the mountains. I think it’s best we deal with his remains here.”
“We should at least inform his kinsmen, don’t you think?” Galen asked. “There has to be some way to send a message. Maybe River can do it.” He slapped River on the arm jokingly in an effort to lighten the mood. Serious situations made him uncomfortable, and he was usually too quick to make a joke. This time, he tried to be on his best behavior.
“Maybe,” River replied. “I’m not sure.”
“Let’s go to the House of Medicine. Maybe Myla will let us watch her examine him.” Galen seemed eager to get away from Ryllak.
“Try not to get in her way,” Ryllak suggested as he turned to leave.
The pair followed the elves who were carrying the dwarf’s body through the village. The crowd had finally dispersed, and the elves were busying themselves with their duties beneath the silver trees of the Vale. The sun shone brightly, and the birds sang with joy despite the events of the morning. It seemed as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.
“She doesn’t like me,” River said.
“Who, Myla?” Galen asked.
“Yes,” he replied. “She’s always scowling at me, no matter how hard I try to be polite to her. I can’t recall doing anything to offend her, but she hates me just the same.”
“She doesn’t know you is all,” Galen said, trying to ease his friend’s mind.
As they arrived at the wide silver tree, they paused for a moment to allow the elves carrying the body to enter. Slowly they marched through the arched doorways of the House of Medicine and laid the lifeless dwarf onto a cot. Galen and River stepped inside quietly.
“What is this?” Myla asked, rising from her desk. Her blond hair was pulled tightly back into a ponytail, giving her slender face an even thinner appearance.
“We bring you the body of a dwarf who fell to his death from the mountains,” one of the elves said.
“I want nothing to do with dwarves,” she replied coldly. “Take it elsewhere.”
River bravely spoke up, knowing that Myla was not one to take kindly to an argument. “Mistress,” he began, “this dwarf was suffering from an illness before he fell. Your medical knowledge is needed to determine if it is a threat to us.”
She narrowed her eyes, staring at River. “The Westerling Elves do not suffer natural disease. Being some sort of hybrid elf, I expect you did not know that.”
“I have lived in the Vale for two hundred years, Mistress,” River replied, trying not to sound disrespectful. “I know we are not susceptible to most disease, but this may be brought on by magic.”
“I want nothing to do with it,” she declared haughtily. “One of my assistants may look at it if any of them are willing.” She turned her back to River and resumed working at her desk.
Stepping outside into the sunlight, Galen said, “That went well.”
River stared at him, annoyed by the comment. “I shouldn’t have gone in. I should have let the others convey the message.”
“River, it’s not you she hates. It’s your father.”
Taken aback, River said, “My father? Why would she hate him?”
Laughing at first, Galen asked, “Don’t you remember that time you fell out of the giant almond tree at the far edge of the Vale?”
“Yes.” River had no idea what an event from so long ago had to do with anything.
“You landed with a splash and a thud, and I nearly died laughing.” He chuckled and continued, “When you didn’t get up right away, I got worried. I ran back to the village to get Myla, but as soon as she knelt down to check your pulse, Ryllak walked over and scooped you up. He told her not to worry as he carried you back to the river and tossed you in. She hasn’t liked either of you since that day.”
“He didn’t toss me. He sat me at the edge,” River replied.
“Well, he—wait,” Galen said. “You were unconscious. How do you know what he did?”
“I wasn’t completely unconscious,” he said with a shrug. “I knew what was going on around me, but I couldn’t seem to wake up—until he put me in the water, of course. Anyway, that seems a silly reason for her to dislike either of us. We didn’t need her help, that’s all.”
“Yes, and she thinks everyone should always need her advice.” Galen grinned at River, feeling proud of his explanation.
River shook his head and laughed despite himself. “You have a unique perspective on things, Galen.”
Galen beamed proudly. “I know it. If you weren’t always trying to be all mystical and elementalish you’d see things as clearly as I do.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” River replied. “What do we do now?”
“I think I know someone who will examine the dwarf for us,” Galen said. “Follow me.”
Chapter 7
Deep in the forests of the Vale, Lenora sat patiently awaiting the arrival of her dryad sisters. Though she was an elf, she had spent the past several years studying under the guidance of the dryads. Her talent for healing arts was well nurtured here among the forests, and
she enjoyed learning as much as she could.
The dryads had taught her about dozens of different plants and their medicinal properties. Through their knowledge of earth magic, they had also taught her new spells that could be used to heal the sick. The trees themselves were not immune to disease, and Lenora was still learning how best to go about healing them. Though her kind were not susceptible to most diseases, it was a skill worth learning and remembering. Times were uncertain, and it was best to remain prepared.
A silvery-skinned dryad made her way to Lenora, her leafy hair fluttering on the breeze as she walked. The sunlight filtered down through the trees, giving her skin a shimmery appearance. Though her body seemed covered in rough bark, her skin was quite soft.
“Well met, Sister,” the silver dryad said.
“Good morning,” Lenora replied.
The two sat side by side on a fallen log. Lenora was eager to show her dryad sister a salve she had been working on, hoping she had gotten the ingredients correct this time. She handed the ceramic bowl filled with yellow-green paste to the dryad.
“It’s the right color this time,” she said approvingly. Holding up the bowl to her nose, she breathed deeply, inhaling the strong odor of the salve. “I think you’ve got it right this time. Let’s test it.”
Rising from the log, Lenora followed the dryad to a berry bush whose leaves had been covered in dark blotches. The plant looked wilted and sorrowful, and it was plainly suffering from disease.
Handing the dish to Lenora, the dryad said, “Apply a small amount to the leaves, and place the rest at its base.”
Lenora obeyed, gently rubbing the salve into each leaf of the ailing plant. There were many leaves, and the task required a great amount of delicacy to avoid further damaging them. Methodically she tended each leaf, all the while willing her mind to focus healing energy. Placing her hands at the plant’s base, her eyes began to sparkle. A white glow spread from her hands and down into the earth, making its way deep into the soil. As the plant’s roots started to heal, the wilted leaves once again regained their strength.
