Magic Astray (The Llandra Saga)

by Gregory Mahan

  “Do you happen to have any food you could share?” Randall asked. “We haven’t really had the opportunity to forage for any ourselves, with the forced march and all.”

  The girl frowned and shook her head. “It’s probably best if you just went to sleep,” she said. Randall had to listen closely to make out what she was saying through her thick accent. The sing-song rhythm of her voice reminded him of the few elven words of power he had learned from Master Erliand, so long ago.

  As she spoke, Randall could feel a prodding at the edges of his consciousness. But now that he knew what to expect, he found it easy to shrug off the intrusion. Eamon, on the other hand, curled up on the ground and began snoring nearly instantly.

  The girl stamped her foot in frustration and sat down on the forest floor and began rummaging in her pack. She pulled out a small package wrapped in vellum and tied with string and tossed it at Randall’s feet.

  “Here,” she said, clearly annoyed. “I don’t know why the glamour doesn’t work on you. It’d be easier for everyone if it did.”

  Randall untied the bundle, and found within it several small biscuits. He took one, and wrapped the bundle up, tossing it back to the girl. Taking a bite, he smiled broadly. It was good—sweet and sticky, with nuts and dried cherries baked into it.

  “Thanks,” he said between bites. “My name’s Randall, by the way. That’s Eamon sawing logs over there.”

  The girl picked the package up, and took a biscuit for herself. “I’m Nia,” she said before motioning to the two boys who had finished setting up camp and taken positions on either side of the camp facing outward. “Gavan and Owain. They’ll keep watch while you sleep.”

  “Keep watch? For what?” Randall asked.

  “We aren’t the only things that live in the forest,” the girl said seriously. “A creature driven to desperation by hunger might attack even us. My men will keep you safe.”

  Randall sat up straight, eyes wide. “Do you honestly think I’m going to trust a couple of kids to fight off wolves or bears if they come sniffing around? I’ll keep watch, too.”

  Nia tilted her head back and laughed, and said something to the boys in her native tongue. Both also began laughing. Randall couldn’t help but smile; it had been a long time since he had heard a child’s laughter.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked.

  Nia shook her head, still chuckling. “Gavan and Owain are experienced hunters. Besides, there are worse things than bears that live in these woods. I doubt you’d be any help at all.”

  Randall frowned at the affront, but he let the comment slide. Clearly, she had meant no insult. Besides, he needed to stay on Nia’s good side if he was to get any information out of her.

  “That reminds me, why did you call me a ‘half breed’ earlier?” he asked.

  “You have the scent,” she replied. “I didn’t notice at first, your friend stinks so. Didn’t you know?”

  “No, that’s not right,” Randall replied, confused. “Both of my parents are regular folk. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “If you say so,” Nia said with a smirk. “If you’re done with your meal, perhaps it is a good time for you to bed down for the night.”

  “I’m not tired,” Randall argued. “I want to know what you meant that I have the scent. I’m not a half breed!”

  “So, you think know all your parents’ secrets then?” she said with a sly smile.

  The taunt gave Randall pause. He had just assumed that his parents had grown up in Geldorn, like everyone else. But he didn’t really know for sure. Ma had never really talked about her childhood in the way Pa had, and he had never even thought to ask. It was only after he had begun training as a Mage that he had learned that his mother was a Seer. And she had given him an elven dagger when he went on the run from the Rooks. But if he was a half-breed, that would mean that she…

  “No,” Randall spat. “My Ma’s a good woman. She would never do something like that,” he argued heatedly.

  “I’m sure you’re quite right. I must have been mistaken,” Nia replied, but the condescending smile on her face made her sarcasm clear.

  Randall puffed out his chest in anger while searching for a retort. Nia tut-tutted her lips in mock sympathy before calling out to one of the boys; Randall thought that he heard the name “Owain” in the short phrase she spoke. The boy looked back over his shoulder at the campsite, frowning. Randall felt a pulse in Llandra as the child spoke a word, and then he felt nothing else as consciousness fled him.

  Chapter 4

  Randall groggily rubbed his eyes as he woke. Whatever spell Owain had used to render him unconscious had put him into a deep sleep with no dreams. His mouth was dry and foul-tasting, and his shoulder ached as if he hadn’t moved a muscle from where he nodded off. He didn’t feel as badly as when Brody had drugged him in his bid to turn Randall in for a reward, but he certainly didn’t feel rested, either.

  He pushed himself slowly into a sitting position, trying to work the kinks out of his shoulder. Nia, Gavan and Owain had already cleared the campsite and were sitting on the ground nearby talking amongst themselves quietly. Eamon sat nearby, the same stupefied expression on his face that he wore the previous day. Nia glanced over at the movement, and smiled.

  “Should have gone to sleep like a good lad,” she chuckled. “You’ll be feeling a little worse for the wear today, I’m afraid. Glad to see that charms work on you at least.”

  Randall nodded his head toward Eamon. “How long is he going to be like that, anyway?”

  Nia shrugged. “He’s young and idealistic; the glamour has taken him more strongly than it might’ve someone a little more world-weary. But even then, it would be as if he were in a waking dream. It will be so for as long as he remains with us.”

  “Can’t you set him free?” Randall protested. “It’s not like we’re going to try to escape. We came here to find you.”

  Nia shook her head solemnly. “I’m afraid not. Your kind has always seen us through veiled eyes. I don’t know why the glamour hasn’t overtaken you, but that’s a question for the chief.”

  Randall hesitated a moment before speaking. “Is it...is it because you said I was a half-breed?” He still didn’t want to believe it. He clamped down hard on his suspicions and pushed them out of his mind.

  Nia knitted her eyebrows for a moment, looking frustrated. “No. The glamour affects even those of mixed blood. You would have to be pure of blood, or nearly so, to be so unaffected. And that, you certainly are not. It is a puzzle beyond my reckoning.”

  She sat lost in thought for a moment longer before shrugging and standing up. “We won’t be getting any answers sitting here. We should have returned from our hunt last night. The others will be worried.”

  Eamon, Gavan and Owain likewise stood, and Nia began leading the way through the forest with Randall following closely behind. The band of children must have come to some decision about him during the night, as neither of the boys closed ranks behind him, and both had their swords sheathed at their belts. Watching them trudge through the forest ahead of him, Randall shook his head. What kind of parent would send children this young alone into the forest to hunt, anyway?

  Randall attempted to engage Eamon in conversation several times along the way, but it took more effort than he could spare to keep the smitten youth’s attention. After only a few moments, Eamon would trail off in the middle of a sentence, his eyes unfocused, with the same silly smile playing at the corners of his lips. Sighing, Randal gave up trying and focused his energy on following the elves. They weren’t following any kind of path that he could see, but they traveled through the woods with the confidence of familiarity.

  Randall didn’t know what to expect when he reached the elven city. Some stories talked about tall, graceful towers of impossibly delicate architecture. Others told of dwellings woven from the living matter of the trees themselves. Even more told of dwellings nestled directly into hillsides, blending in with th
eir surroundings. Regardless of the differences, every story told about elves spoke of the wonderment of their homes, and the majestic beauty that they surrounded themselves with.

  It took several hours for the group to reach the elven settlement. Randall could hear the city minutes before reaching the outskirts. Laughter and melodic conversation in the elven tongue drifted to them, and Randall felt his heartbeat racing in anticipation. The forest seemed to grow thicker the closer the group came to the city, and the last few hundred yards were a challenge even for the elven children. And then, suddenly, they pushed through the underbrush and into a clearing and Randall laid his eyes on the city for the first time.

  He wasn’t impressed. Other than being nestled in the woods, Randall might have walked into any small town near his home. The dwellings were brightly painted and decorated, with roofs made of living moss and ivy instead of the thatching used in his village. The elves seemed to favor pointed archways instead of simple straight walls—but still, the differences in home construction were slight; the architecture was less ‘majestic’ than it was simply ‘different’.

  Eamon, on the other hand, was giddy with excitement. “Oh! It’s amazing!” he breathed, as he tried to take in the entire settlement in one long look, his eyes lingering fervently on each building before tearing themselves away to gaze at the next.

  There were dozens of elves within view, each carrying on every-day tasks like hauling water, tending gardens or gossiping in the path. None of them appeared to be any older than Nia, and a number of them looked far younger.

  “Where are all the adults?” Randall asked, exasperation causing him to speak louder than intended.

  His voice carried across the clearing easily, the harshness of his native tongue cutting through the melodic elven chatter like fingernails on a blackboard. The elves closest to Randall froze in their tracks, staring wide-eyed at the group. One, a blonde-haired boy that had been standing a dozen yards away, whipped a dagger from his hip so swiftly that Randall’s eyes could hardly follow the motion, shouting a challenge at Nia.

  Nia answered in a serious tone. Randall couldn’t follow the exchange, but it was clear that while her answer had put the boy somewhat at ease, he still eyed the two interlopers with suspicion. Nia spoke again and the boy nodded, turned, and trotted deeper into the city.

  “He’s gone to tell the chief that we’re back. It’s probably best if you keep quiet until we are granted an audience. Your presence alone will make my people nervous enough without alerting them to the fact that you are not under glamour.”

  After a few moments, the young elf returned, and spoke a few words to Nia. She motioned for him to follow, and started off, heading deeper into town. Randall was disappointed when Gavan and Owain fell in behind him, swords once again drawn. It’s probably to make the townsfolk feel more at ease than anything to do with me, he thought to himself, but the idea was scant comfort. While he wouldn’t call Nia and her companions ‘friends’ exactly, he had been nothing but open and friendly with them. Marching with him under guard like this meant that on some level they still didn’t trust him, and it left a bad taste in his mouth.

  Wherever they went, children seemed to be doing all the work: gardening, shopping, even running the shops. Randall craned his neck this way and that, trying to spy an adult among the population. Finally, his curiosity got the better of him.

  “Where are all the adults, anyway?” he asked.

  Nia shook her head and giggled, her child-like laughter tinkling like silver bells. “There are no children, Randall,” she explained. “This is what we look like. There hasn’t been a child in Dyffryn for a long, long time—at least not until now.”

  Randall bristled at the implied insult, but let it pass without comment. “So, this is Dyffryn, then? I would’ve thought the place would have been...grander.”

  Nia stopped walking and faced Randall, raising her eyebrows before narrowing her eyes suspiciously. “You’ve heard of Dyffryn? That’s…surprising.” From the tone of her voice, it was clear that she could have easily used the word troubling instead.

  Randall nodded and answered quickly. “A while back, I traveled with some caravaners who said they used to trade here a couple of times a year. They made the place sound enormous.”

  Nia examined Randall’s features closely, as if searching for a lie. “Tobsen. I remember him. He always had the most extraordinary music to play for us. Of course, who knows exactly how he saw our city when seen through the veil of glamour. They haven’t been back in over a season. Do you know why?”

  “They’re dead,” Randall answered quietly. “We were set upon by bandits. I barely escaped myself.”

  “How convenient for you,” Nia replied guardedly. “So, after hearing Tobsen’s tales about our city, you thought you’d come see it for yourself then? Didn’t anyone ever tell you that we were dangerous?”

  “Well, I figured that if an annoying popinjay like Tobsen could trade with you without making you want to kill him, I could try my hand at it,” Randall said, shrugging.

  “I had forgotten how endearing the foolhardiness of children can be,” Nia replied with a hint of a smirk. She turned to resume their journey, breaking into a fresh wave of giggles after a walking a few steps. “He really was a bit pompous, wasn’t he?” she asked, calling back over her shoulder.

  Even as young as she looked, Randall couldn’t help but feel that she was quite pretty when she smiled. He felt a wave of affection wash over him, but it was different than the sensual attraction of their first meeting; it was more like the affection he felt whenever his younger brother Joshua did something particularly endearing. He nearly gave into the urge to reach out and ruffle her hair when he was struck by the comparison: like our first meeting? Instantly, he became aware of the pressure on his mind from an alien source, urging him to love and protect the girl. Mustering his willpower, he shook off the feeling, and the pressure dissipated. Nia was nothing more than a stranger, and possibly a dangerous one at that.

  “Come on, young Randall. The chief is waiting,” the young elf ordered, her smirk turning into a look of frustration.

  It didn’t take long to reach the chief’s dwelling. The elven settlement just wasn’t that large, and the houses were spaced fairly close together. They paused at the front door, and Nia spoke a few words to her companions. They nodded and began leading Eamon down the path. The young farmer’s son went with them willingly; caught in the glamour, he gushed continually about the beauty of the elven city and people almost non-stop.

  “Wait! Where are you taking him?” Randall cried out. Being separated worried him. There was no way that Eamon could defend himself in the condition he was in. An elf could advance upon him with a naked blade, and the farm boy would probably welcome the killing blow with open arms.

  “Don’t worry about him,” Nia soothed. “You’re the one the chief wants to see, and he’s in no condition to be giving any answers. The glamour has taken him too strongly for us to get any meaningful information out of him.”

  Randall considered protesting a moment longer before nodding and following Nia into the building. He didn’t want to build up any more ill will toward the elves, and while he felt he could have prevented the two boys from taking Eamon by force, it didn’t feel right for him to draw steel against children.

  “The chief is in conference with the Old One, but he’s ordered you to be brought before him as soon as you’ve arrived,” Nia said as they arrived at an ornately carved doorway.

  “Old One?” Randall asked in confusion.

  “The first of us to come to this world,” Nia explained. “The chief is one of the few of us old enough to remember some of its language. It only rarely comes to us, so you must show the proper respect. Its arrival means that there is something gravely important to us happening in the world.”

  Randall nodded mutely. It was one thing to go on a grand adventure hoping to meet and trade with elves. It was quite another to be meeting the first
fae to ever set foot on his world. It had to be thousands of years old! Noting Randall’s grave expression, Nia knocked politely and then pushed open the door. He had no idea what to expect, and his heart hammered in his chest as the door swung open.

  The door opened up into a simple meeting room with a circular table in the center. Sitting at the far end was a boy who looked approximately Randall’s age, seventeen or eighteen years old. A thin torc of twisted silver hung around his neck, and another thin silver band adorned with tiny silver leaves encircled his head like a headband. He was speaking rapidly in the elven language to a diminutive figure seated by his side. Randall felt simultaneous shock and relief as his eyes lit upon the creature.

  “Berry?” he called out before he could contain his surprise.

  Nia gasped in shock, and slapped her hand over Randall’s mouth, shushing him with a sharp hsst from between her teeth. The elf chieftain’s face curled into a snarl of rage and he let loose with a string of what could only be elven invective before he switched to Randall’s language.

  “You will be silent!” the chief snarled in an accent that was so thick as to be nearly incomprehensible. Spittle flew from the chief’s mouth as he barked the order, and he punctuated the last sentence by slamming his fist down on the wooden table.

  Randall wrestled his mouth free from Nia’s grip. Her eyes were wide with fear but he plunged ahead anyway. Certainly things would smooth over once he explained everything.

  “But Berry and I are friends!” he explained hurriedly, pointing at the donnan. “Tell him, Berry!” he pleaded.

  The elf chieftain looked briefly at Berry, confusion coloring his rage. “Know him not,” Berry chittered, curling his lips at Randall to show his needle-sharp teeth.

  “That’s not true!” Randall cried, fighting off Nia’s frightened attempts to stop him. “We’ve been traveling together for a couple of years now!” Why would Berry lie? It didn’t make any sense.