by Brindi Quinn
Apparently he did.
“Very well. Come on, Rend.”
She let herself be dragged. She was too broken to resist.
“What should I do?” asked Kantú.
I looked at her nervously. “Just don’t tell on me.”
She cocked her head to the side.
I hadn’t completed the Rite. I wasn’t an official songstress, and therefore, I wasn’t allowed to use any sacred-level songs, but I had to do something. I had to do this. Though I had learned several, never had I actually used an ariando, a power song allowing for manipulation of the elements. I had never before, but . . . it was time to try. It wasn’t so bad to do something so forbidden if the circumstances were dire enough . . . right?
If I could only remember the words.
Sky’s drops? Sky’s water?
It took a moment, but when they finally came to me, my voice rang loud and filled the village with the simple melody.
“The sky’s tears come, pour over me,
Fill this place with water sweet.
The sky’s tears come, pour over all,
Fill this place with glory’s fall.”
As I sang, a mighty wind swirled around me, kicking up the needles from the forest floor and ruffling my sleeves and hair. I could feel something within me – like an energy – pulsing power into the song’s magic. It was like my life-force itself was pouring into the lyrics.
It felt good . . . and natural.
“What do you think you are doing?!” Rend bawled from some corner of the village. “We leave you for one moment, and-” But she was interrupted by a meddlesome crack of thunder.
I stared up at the sky and let out a gasp, for rain had started to fall. The song had done its job. It had produced the water I’d called for.
So this was the power of an ariando!
The ravenous flames flickered under the weight of the drops, which fell harder and harder and quenched the burning village.
Though my singing had ceased, I held onto the song’s power, but it was heavy, and I quickly felt drained from exerting the magic. Nonetheless, liquid salvation continued to trickle from the heavens, and the thunder continued to roll in low even rumbles. I was surprised at my own strength, but I was growing weaker the longer I held the song.
“What is this sorcery?” muttered Rend, shielding her face.
But I had no answer to give; I was as astounded as she.
In what seemed like no time at all, the last of the fires hissed and died out. My adrenaline rushed. It had worked. I couldn’t believe it, but it had actually, really, truly worked!
As I released the remaining power of the song, the weight lifted from my body.
“Amazing!” Kantú, who had backed away during the spell, ran and flung her arms around my neck. “That was so great! How did you do it? You’re gonna be in so much trouble.” She pinched my cheek. “I can’t believe it! You looked like a real songstress!”
Kantú continued buzzing in my ear, but my eyes fell on Nyte, who was standing a ways behind her. His gaze met mine for a moment before falling. He blushed, looking oddly embarrassed, then turned away and continued searching the village.
Does he think I’m weird now? I hoped not.
I sat down and allowed myself to recuperate from the effects of the song.
Rend was still staring at the sky when Nyte returned several minutes later.
“The good news is there is no one here,” he told her.
She dropped her gaze and winced. “Explain, please, how no survivors is good?” Her voice was bitter.
“What I mean is there is no one here at all. They all must have escaped before the fire. No one was trapped.”
His words were a liberation from the shroud of despair that had settled upon the town. I exhaled in relief, and that same feeling of ascension was reflected across Rend’s face. The harsh look that was usually there melted away the same way it had when she’d stared at the zebron.
Without that bitter scowl she was actually quite beautiful.
“If the fires were still burning, the villagers couldn’t have gone very far,” I said, still trying to regain my strength. “Where did they all go?”
“Probably to Yh’tak,” said Nyte. And he was staring at me.
Ah! He does think I’m weird now, doesn’t he?! I shied away and was frustrated with myself for caring so much about his opinion. Why does it matter what he thinks, anyway? And yet, I was flustered.
“I don’t get it,” said Kantú, filling in the awkward pause. “Why’d they just leave it burning? Couldn’t they have put it out before leaving?”
Rend’s fists shook in fury at Kantú’s implication that the Elves had done something wrong. I hopped to my feet and stepped in front of the Squirrelean, certain that Rend was about to unleash another attack.
“It is obvious they were chased away,” she sneered.
“Calm yourself.” Nyte placed his hand on her shoulder. “It was an honest question. She meant no harm.”
Whew.
But though I was grateful he’d stepped in, he was still staring at me with that look. I resolved to not let it bother me, but I still couldn’t meet his eyes.
This avoidance lasted until even after I finished helping Kantú ring out her tail. In fact, it wasn’t until a while later, when we’d started to set up camp, that I decided to try talking to him again, and even then I couldn’t bring myself to look at him.
“What will we do now?” I tried to sound casual, but my voice came out more timidly than I’d hoped.
“We will travel to Yh’tak,” he said, stretching out a piece of the tent’s canvas. “It is a small refuge just a day’s journey from here, and just ten days east of Sredna, the place where the elders reside.” He dropped the canvas and turned to me. “Aura?”
My stomach tumbled because he’d uttered my name. “Y-yeah?”
“That rainsong was remarkable. You have our gratitude.”
When I finally let myself meet his eyes, he was grinning at me spiritedly. I couldn’t help but return it. “It was nothing.”
As the last of the lingering drops dripped from the scorched trees, I looked around the village. I imagined it a serene place before the fire. From what I could gather, fruit bushes had been planted below each of the lofty homes, possibly serving as each family’s private garden. I tried to picture what they had once looked like, lush and blooming, but it was hard to see it through the char and scorch. It was a waste. A terrible, hellish waste.
“Who could’ve done a thing like this?”
I had no idea then that the answer to my question would turn out to be far more horrible than I could imagine.
~
The next dawn we searched the village for supplies, though not much had been spared from the fire. Kantú was sour about many things, not the least of these being a disappointment at the lack of spring nuts in the Elves’ diets. She complained about it at length.
“They’re fruitarians,” I whispered, peeking over my shoulder to make sure the pair of them couldn’t hear. Kantú had already caused enough offense as it was.
“But what are we going to eat? Fruit’s good and all, but what about some fish or cheese or something?”
“Fruit will have to do for now, I guess.”
Kantú sneered in Rend’s direction. “And why does she have to be so cranky all the time anyway?”
“Well, it might be because she despises me, or that her village was burned down, or that she was sent on a kidnapping mission-”
“Well, that’s no excuse!”
I chuckled at her angry chitters. The truth was, I found it hard to be angry at Rend after witnessing the pain and anguish the loss of her home-village had caused her. Her attitude was uncalled for, but I couldn’t pretend to know the ins and outs of Elven lore. I put so much stock in our own Songs of Old that I could understand why she took the Heart of Havoc legend so seriously. Of course she’d treat me so if she truly saw me as a threat to her people.
<
br /> She still terrified me, but I just couldn’t hate her.
“We are taking our leave now. Do not tarry . . . prisoners.” The word dripped off of the Elf in question’s tongue like poison sap.
“You’d think she’d be grateful for the, you know, magical rain and all,” said Kantú through clenched teeth.
“Just ignore her; it’s a losing battle.” I gave her tail a tug. “Let’s go.”
As we passed through the magical barrier into the wilds of the forest, I turned for one last look at the scorched Elven town. The overcast sky did little to brighten up its ashen remains.
Goodbye, Edaw. Rest in peace. I wondered if I’d be allowed to return someday when new seedlings sprang from the ground and the air was again filled with life.
Right. Welcome to Edaw, dreaded Heart of Havoc. If the rest of the Elves were anything like Rend, I wouldn’t be very welcome at all.
Chapter 4: The Hammer
“Can we please take a break?” Kantú’s voice was whiny.
Several hours had passed since we’d departed from Edaw, and the restless Squirrelean was quickly losing steam as she grew increasingly bored of the surrounding forest. The trees all looked the same, and with no discernible land markers, we had no choice but to diligently follow the somber Elves. They’d slowed their pace to accommodate us, but with much higher stamina, they seemingly had no intention of breaking on their own anytime soon. At least the sun had finally come out.
“We could go to the stream,” said Nyte quietly. He looked to Rend.
My attention piqued at the mention. I raised my eyebrows at Kantú, and together we quickened our pace to catch up to the Elves in an attempt to be included in any following decision-making. In my opinion, a stream sounded perfect.
But naturally Rend found the idea foul.
There goes that.
“Do not be stupid. We will lose an hour or more of sunlight if we stop now!”
Kantú stuck out her bottom lip.
I studied Rend’s back and tried to think of something I could say that might convince her. It seemed pretty pointless, but . . . maybe if I begged? She seemed the type that would enjoy some groveling. It was worth a shot, and even if it didn’t work, the thought of running water was too appealing for me to remain silent.
“Please, Rend. We need a break,” I said, trying to make myself sound desperate, though as I was indeed growing desperate, it wasn’t much of a stretch.
Rend looked as though I’d just murdered a zebron in front of her. “You dare call me by name, Evil Heart? I shall smite you where you sta-”
“Enough, cousin!” For the first time since meeting him, Nyte’s voice held anger. “They have been cooperative thus far and even helped extinguish the fire. The least we could do is let them rest. You forget that they are not Elves. They have different needs than ours.”
Rend backed away, apparently shocked by his sudden harshness. “Fine. But do not think I will fail to mention this to the elders. Clearly you have already been influenced by this monster, just as I was warned.”
“Gosh, Aura, quit trying to woo Nyte with your witchy wiles,” whispered Kantú sarcastically. I rolled my eyes and then shifted my body to conceal her from Rend, who once again glared at us with harmful intent.
Nyte led us south a ways. My legs were growing tired, but the thought of fresh water and rest helped me press on through the dense trees. The ocean was one of the things most precious to me, and though the stream would most likely not be anywhere near its grandiosity, it was better than nothing.
“You know, Aura, you could use another ariando to blast that meanie away,” whispered Kantú, gesturing lewdly at Rend.
I sighed. “You know I can’t do something like that.” My agreement with Nyte was still hanging over me. If I cooperate, you will return me when this is over.
“She’s just so irk-idy!”
“I bet by the time this is all over you two will be great friends,” I lied.
She wiggled her nose. “I have no interest to be friends with a stupid, crabby-” She stopped mid-insult. “Hey, do you hear something?”
“Something like wha-” But as the sound of running water reached my ears, I let out an excited gasp. “We’re getting close!” And at the realization, my tired strides turned to gleeful marching.
Wa-ter! Wa-ter! I paraded away from Kantú, impulsively drawn to the sound, but my excitement was cut short when Nyte suddenly came up from behind, cupped my mouth, and pulled me down into the brush.
“Whagomingom?” I was muffled by his hand.
As he held me against himself, my body flooded with a warm sensation I’d felt before. This feeling again? My heartbeat sped. Come on, Aura! Quit getting so excited! I was frustrated for being so affected by him, yet my heartbeat wouldn’t obey my mental protests. The warmth was simply too satisfying. Was this just him, or was it something all Elves had?
And why’d he grab me all of a sudden?
It wasn’t like I’d been making a break for it or anything. I glanced up at him for an explanation, but he only put a finger to his lips. Confused, I looked over my shoulder. Kantú was struggling in Rend’s arms, tail swinging wildly. She was clearly not experiencing the same warm embrace I was.
Both Elves peered through the brush, eyes alert. Was it an animal of some sort or something?
Then I heard it, the faint sound of men talking. More Elves!?
Nyte must have felt me stiffen in his arms because he shook his head before squinting in the direction of the voices. I strained my ears but couldn’t make out what the men were saying. Maybe his pointy ones could detect what mine couldn’t.
Nyte turned back and shook his head at Kantú, who was still swinging wildly, but it was for naught, for at that moment her tail hit a rattly branch, and the murmurs abruptly stopped.
I held my breath, wondering if the men or Elves or whatever had detected us.
Apparently, they had.
In one swift action, Nyte sprang up and threw himself in front of me as an arrow came whizzing at us. He caught the arrow in his hand and then dropped to the ground, throwing me to Rend before rolling out of the brush and charging the men. Rend pulled Kantú and me behind a fallen log.
From our position, I could now see that there were only two men, though I couldn’t make out their faces through the forest branches.
“Stay here.” Rend’s voice was panicked. She shot me a look of warning that said if I attempted to escape, she’d hunt me down and blast me with red energy until my paralysis was permanent. I gulped and nodded.
She sprang up and followed Nyte through the brush, while Kantú and I cowered together and braced ourselves. After a tense moment, there was a flash of red light followed by a loud thud. I peeked over the log to see Nyte wrestling one of the men. He suddenly looked like a warrior or something! Like he was practiced in such things! Did Elves often encounter forest battles?
There was no sign of the other man, and at first it looked like Rend was also missing, but then I saw her. She was sprawled on the ground, not moving, and I understood what the source of the thud had been.
But that meant that someone had been able to defeat her!? A new sense of fear invaded me. Who exactly were these new enemies, and how had they combated her vicious red light?
Then again, maybe they could share the trick.
“Thugs?!” said Kantú. “Use an ariando!”
“Right.” Why hadn’t I thought of that? I was the one who was supposed to be a songstress!
I searched my memory for something that might be of use, but before I could think of lyrics, someone jumped out of the bushes behind us and grabbed me. The ‘someone’ held a knife to my throat.
“Ugh!” I let out a startled and resentful huff. But though my huff read confidence, this was the most endangered I’d ever felt, and my body trembled in response. One wrong move and . . .
“Aura!” Kantú pounced forward, but stopped at the sight of the knife.
“Back against that
tree,” the man told her with a voice deep and gruff. “I’ll kill ‘er if you make one move.”
K-kill me?! No, you don’t want to do that! My heartbeat sped, and not the same way it had when Nyte had been the one restraining me. “Please,” was all I could say, and it left my mouth shakily.
“Shut yer mouth.”
He pulled me through the brush, one hand gripping the knife, the other around Kantú’s wrist, to where Nyte was fighting the second man between two massive trunks. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across their fighting faces, painting their harsh glowers gray. Nyte had just grabbed the stranger by the throat when the gruff man yelled,
“Drop ‘im!”
Nyte whirled around, eyes fueled with anger. His cheek was cut, and he looked quite brutal, all traces gone of the gentle Elf he’d been just moments earlier. His grip on the man’s neck was tight.
Don’t kill him!
Even if it was an enemy, I couldn’t stand the thought of witnessing a murder. Luckily, today was not the day for something like that. My silent plea was answered, for upon seeing me, Nyte dropped the man, who fell to the ground, gasping for air.
Rend was still lying face down. She hadn’t moved.
Oh, my Creator! She’s not dead, is she?!
“Who are you?” asked Nyte harshly, still clenching his fist and ready to throw another punch if necessary.
The second man stood and leaned against an ancient oak for support.
He was a tall, lanky person with hunched shoulders and sandy hair, but more peculiar than his stature was the frayed green tuxedo he was wearing. Its dirt-stained tails were much longer than they should have been, hanging all the way to the ground. My first thought was that he looked like some lurching salamander on his way to a fancy dinner. There was one pale dead rose poking from his front pocket, which only served to add to the image in my head of a banquet of frogs and lizards.
“Here.” The gruff man threw Kantú to Nyte while the hunched man readied an antique bow and pointed it at them.
