Night Elves 2: Dangerous Obsession

by Nelissa Donovan

Darous crossed his arms and threw Red Claw an annoyed glare. “What can one lowly firewhit possibly have to share about events on such a large scale?”

  Eristta closed her hand around the peevish firewhit. “We do not have time for attitude, Darous. Please.”

  “Faerie tits!” Darous squeaked. “All right, all right.” After a pointed look, Eristta opened her hand and Darous flitted upward to hover between them.

  “Tell us about the prophecies, firewhit,” Red Claw rumbled.

  “Terrans,” Darous mumbled before lighting on Eristta’s outstretched forearm. “While you two were ‘connecting’ I went to speak with Keelie’n.”

  “Is the hive well?” Eristta asked, always interested in the wellbeing of the firewhit conclave. Darous had been spending time with them off and on for the past five months, learning about his ancestry.

  “As well as can be expected with the knowledge that the Evil One has returned.”

  “Garethan,” Red Claw said.

  Darous sighed. “Yes. Or Errabon. His incarnate name matters naught. Evil One is his true moniker.” The firewhit folded his wings around him as if taken by a chill. “I spoke to Keelie’n about the faerie queen’s prophecy. She seems to think it involves three great leaders, who, when fully bonded, will have the combined strength to defeat Garethan and free the kingdomes from his foul threat.”

  Eristta thought on Darous’s words as she unfolded the minuscule wallet she kept inside her boot, shook out a light pair of keffa silk leggings and thin, body-formed tunic. “Yes. I was thinking the same. But who are the three? And how do we bring them together to form such a bond?”

  Darous sighed pointedly as he watched Eristta dress. “One has already emerged.”

  “The Phoenix,” murmured Red Claw as he strapped on his knife.

  “Of course,” Eristta said, annoyed at her lack of forethought. Her mind was crowded with thoughts of a warrior’s sweet tongue and strong arms. “Selena. One of fire. It makes perfect sense, but who are the other two?”

  Red Claw brushed away the last indentation of their stay in the glade, then straightened, his expression shadowed. “One of air. One of sea. I would suspect she was referring to the ancients of these elements. As the Phoenix represents death and rebirth through fire, the element of air possesses the ability to effect great shifts of power. Yet air is fickle, running hot then cold. Water speaks to the nourishment of life, immutable, essential, as a mother is to a babe, yet able to destroy at whim.”

  Eristta could not tear her gaze away from Red Claw. His entire form spoke of inner control and confidence. But without a trace of arrogance. A quality many elfin men lacked.

  “What ancient entity claims the air?” Eristta pondered aloud as she pulled on her boots. “And are we to understand that the entity, like the Phoenix, will seek out a less Godly host? Or will they simply come to our aid when needed?”

  “Unlikely,” harrumphed Darous. “I’ve never known a God or Goddess to simply arrive in time to stop a bloodbath. Most are far removed from the mortal lives of men and beast. It would take a cataclysmic event to wake them to the perils of mankind. And even then, I don’t imagine most would be motivated to assist us.”

  “Not so,” Red Claw said, motioning for Eristta and Darous to follow him. After exchanging looks, firewhit and elf trailed after the shaman, moving into the protective canopy of the darkened forest. “There are many stories of ancients coming to man’s aid, whether called or simply by their own accord. It is rare,” Red Claw amended. “But not impossible.”

  As the trio traversed the narrow trail, Red Claw spoke. “Even so, I am in agreement with Darous. I do not believe assistance will simply arrive and save the day. Prophecies are not given if the people receiving them are unnecessary in bringing them to life.”

  Eristta cocked her head, drinking in the truth of the shaman’s words and the beauty of the man delivering them. Magick or no, she wanted him more than ever. To lay with him for hours, enjoying the pleasures of his flesh. Allowing him to explore every inch of her body and spirit. To—

  “Mistress!”

  Blinking to clear her thoughts, Eristta stared into the amber-bright gaze of an annoyed firewhit.

  “Sorry,” Eristta mumbled, avoiding both Red Claw and Darous’s knowing looks, ashamed that thoughts of coupling should interfere with the very fate of their world. She had thought that once she and Red Claw had enjoyed each other’s pleasure, the nagging need would cease, or at least lessen.

  Far from it.

  Sighing, Eristta twisted her hair into a knot and fastened it at the nape of her neck. “So, we know Selena and the Phoenix is the first. If we’re following the order of the prophecy, the being of air should emerge next. Assuming there is one, is it possible that he or she will arrive in time to save Tee’amon?”

  “Let us check on the golems’ progress,” Red Claw said. Breathing deep, the shaman closed his eyes and whispered in his own language. Eristta shivered as the thread of his magick passed by, searching, calling. After a series of melodic whistles, a weechun flitted down through the canopy and landed softly on the shaman’s outstretched finger. The bird’s dove-gray breast quivered at Red Claw’s gentle touch, its wings folded contentedly on its back.

  I know that feeling, Eristta thought. Of being protected, cherished.

  Red Claw cupped the weechun in his palm, and Eristta reached with her danu awen, picking up small amounts of their communication:

  Tell me, small one. What have you seen?

  The bird spoke in pictures and primal emotions, as such creatures do, and Eristta allowed her mind to wrap gently around the images. Forest…green. Blue sky, deep lakes, glimmering silver under the summer sun.

  Fear. It invaded the weechun’s ordinary travels like a seismic event, and in fractured images, Eristta saw why. Cresting a sloping rise, the weechun looked down over a writhing sea of molted gray and browns.

  Golems.

  Eristta gasped, losing her connection to the weechun’s thoughts. Though free of the bird’s vision, the image still burned foul in her mind’s eye. She waited patiently as Red Claw completed his communication, his concentration not broken as Eristta’s had been.

  As the shaman’s eyes opened, their gazes met, and Eristta warmed at the understanding she saw reflected there. “Do not forget, I have witnessed it before,” he said softly.

  “It is—disturbing,” Eristta said, a shudder passing through her.

  Nodding to the bird, Red Claw lifted his hand and the tiny creature paused before winging away, as if reluctant to leave the warmth and security of his palm.

  “Did you not ask the creature to spy for us, Terran?” Darous asked, zinging between them, brows raised.

  “No.” Red Claw’s answer was firm. “It is too dangerous. Garethan’s army is under heavy mage-guard. The army as a whole is spelled to make their passage quicker and quieter than I thought possible.” His gaze cut to the west. “They are now only two days outside of Tee’amon.”

  “Phreeta!” Eristta cursed in the ancient tongue. She pulled her hands roughly through her hair, destroying the knot. Silken strands flowed wildly around her shoulders. “All is lost! How can we possibly slow them so close to their objective?” The elfin princess spun, her expression fierce. “And even if we could slow them, it would need to be a lengthy distraction to allow Serosen and what little armies we’ve gathered to intercept.”

  Darous alighted on Red Claw’s shoulder and Eristta looked on in surprise. The firewhit was not fond of touching creatures other than Eristta. Certainly not a terran—except for Selena, but she really didn’t count, being as she housed a Goddess. “I believe there is a way,” he whispered.

  “What?” Eristta took two long steps to stand directly in front of them. “Shouldn’t you have told us this before, Darous?”

  “Oh? And when would that be, princess? During your moans of ecstasy?”

  Chagrined, Eristta smirked and raised one brow. “Yes, if you actually had a constructive plan.�
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  “Well, I don’t know how constructive it is. Insane is more like it, but I don’t see that we have many alternatives.” The firewhit inclined his head Red Claw’s direction. “And we need the terran to attempt it.”

  “Call him by his proper name, Darous,” Eristta said through gritted teeth, her face flush with annoyance at her friend’s tiresome habits. “Now tell us what your remarkable brain has come up with. We’ve little time!”

  Hopping sideways, Darous settled next to Red Claw’s neck then bent low until his hand connected with bone. “These are what we need.”

  Darous’s tiny hand looked like a newly sprung leaf against the blood-red claw, and Eristta’s gaze met the shaman’s. His expression was stoic, yet Eristta sensed his unease. She’d always been fascinated by the tokens of power he wore even while bathing. Eristta knew from quizzing Serosen that the crimson claws held great power, but she knew unlike some magickers, the amulets did not contain his power. That came from within, and from the bear.

  “Well? Isn’t anyone going to ask me how they will help us?” cried Darous, hands raised.

  Eristta rolled her eyes. “Yes. Tell us, Darous. How can Red Claw’s amulets assist us?”

  “They cannot,” came Red Claw’s deep rumble. The shaman brushed Darous off his shoulder and disappeared into the dense trees without looking back. Frowning, Eristta easily caught up, her interest piqued.

  “Why is that?”

  He glanced over, his countenance dark. “I would use everything within my power to save this land and its people, now my people, wastelakapi.”

  It was a statement Eristta knew to be true. She’d witnessed the strong bond between Red Claw and her brothers, and with the Night Elf Kingdome as a whole. He had aided them in many ways throughout the years, and she knew his heart belonged as much to Tir n na-Og as it did to his home world of Earth.

  Darous zipped in front of Red Claw and held up his hands.

  The shaman stopped, the claws around his neck clicking against each other as if wanting to draw attention.

  Eristta addressed her longtime companion. “How can these tokens hold back an army?”

  Darous grinned, his teeth shining white in the forest gloom. “Not hold back, distract.”

  With lightning speed, Eristta plucked the firewhit from the air. “Enough! Tell us how, Darous.”

  Wringing his hands gleefully, the firewhit’s amber gaze fastened on the necklace. “Ask the shaman, he will know.”

  Eristta looked up to see Red Claw frozen beside her, his expression hard as hergoth stone. “Red Claw?”

  They stood in silence, even the night creatures eerily absent. Red Claw shook his head. “No,” was all he said before resuming his pace.

  Tingling erupted through Eristta’s abdomen and she released Darous and hurried to catch him. “Red Claw!”

  Darous settled next to her ear, his breathing heavy with irritation. “Do not bother. I told you the terran holds himself above us, Earie. Our world is of little consequence to a man who can escape it.”

  His words arrowed straight to Eristta’s core. “That is not true,” she whispered. “Red Claw cannot use the doorways. It is forbidden and they are heavily guarded, not to mention the wild magick is unpredictable and unforgiving. To do so would be suicide.”

  “He need not use the portals,” Darous said smugly, his mouth resting on the tip of her ear. “He’s had the power all along. It lies within the claws.”

  Chapter Nine

  If Red Claw were a less-centered being, he’d bind the damnable firewhit into a rock for a month to slow his meddlesome and untrusting nature. How had he come upon the knowledge of the amulets? He’d never revealed the amulets’ powers to anyone, save certain members of his family. And even then, with a complicated set of instructions in their use.

  “It cannot be done,” Red Claw stated loudly, knowing Darous was certainly whispering misguided wisdom into Eristta’s ear.

  Eristta was suddenly beside him, her expression stormy. “Is it true? Can the claws open doorways into other worlds? Doorways not governed or created by the ancients?”

  Facing his beloved, Red Claw’s body and spirit hungered for her despite the danger they found themselves in. Despite the fact that what he was about to tell her may damage their newfound bond forever. “Yes.” He gripped the necklace in his fist. “Their unique properties are not spelled. And even though I have long worn them, the original source of their power eludes me. But yes, they can open freestanding—stable—doorways.”

  “Then you have always had the power to leave? To go home.”

  “That is all you have to say?” nagged Darous, flitting back and forth in agitation.

  “Silence!” Eristta and Red Claw said in unison, their gazes locked on one another.

  Darous careened to a halt, arms crossed.

  Red Claw’s emotions churned as he faced Eristta. “There was a time where I passed between our worlds freely before choosing to bind my physical self to this world. As Garethan came to power, it became too perilous to use the amulets, even if I had been so inclined.”

  “Darous is right, then,” Eristta said, her tone flat. “There may indeed be a way to use the amulets to slow the golems.”

  He shook his head, his heart heavy. “Eristta, you know my spirit is bonded to this land. Even so, I cannot unleash Garethan’s evil onto another world, be it mine or another.”

  Eristta moved in close, her breasts shifting enticingly under her body-hugging tunic. “Think you I would?”

  Red Claw raised a hand to brush a strand of midnight away from Eristta’s tense face. “No, wastelakapi. But there are others…” Red Claw’s gaze cut Darous’s direction. “Who would not have the same compulsion. I have purposely not used the amulets to avoid drawing attention to them. In exploring their power, we risk exposing them to Garethan’s control.”

  “Exactly!” called the firewhit. Darous zoomed forward, his amber eyes unnaturally wide. “Did you think I was suggesting you send those beasts into your precious world?” Darous scoffed, landing on Eristta’s shoulder. “Your terran brothers and sisters would run screaming in terror. No, it’s quite simple, shaman. We trigger the amulets, drawing Garethan’s attention away from Tee’amon and onto us.” Darous tipped his chin. “While they work their way toward us, King Serosen will have time to amass the full elfin forces in defense of the Spring Kingdome.”

  The idea was staggering—and dangerous beyond measure. Mato rumbled his agreement, and Red Claw felt a strong urge to transform. To let the red bear take the lead in decision and action. But gazing at Eristta, he knew he could not indulge in passing his burdens to Mato—even for a short time.

  “Have you considered, Darous,” Red Claw said softly. “The consequences of Garethan gaining control of the amulets?”

  “And why would he turn an entire army to procure them?” Eristta asked as she began pacing. “Not to mention, turning the army, even if it is possible, is only a temporary reprieve. We still do not have the forces necessary to defeat them!”

  The firewhit placed his hand on either side of his head and shook it, as if trying to knock out a rooted acorn. “Do you think me a total pixie brain?” Plopping onto his butt on Red Claw’s shoulder, Darous drew a tiny slip of parchment out from the small band around his waist. He cleared his throat as he unrolled the scroll. “Ahem. ‘Hear now the prophecy of Dietramon as given to the firewhit conclave: Crimson portals held in trust. Unconcealed, their power calls. On honored wing—teeth and bone—steel and stone. Expose the doorways to turn the tide of evil’s flow.’”

  A cold fist settled in Red Claw’s gut as Darous re-rolled the parchment and put it away.

  “This is assuming the prophecies are true,” Eristta said quietly, her hand gripping Red Claw’s biceps.

  Her touch sparked fire in his belly, but Red Claw pushed his desire aside. “I believe they are of value.” The words pained him. The thought of using the claws to draw Garethan was insane. If they could turn th
em, Serosen would have time to merge with Ballodoff’s forces. To surround Tee’amon and drive them back—for a time.

  Perhaps time was all they needed. Perhaps if they let the prophecy guide them, help would come. Mato stirred his blood, and Red Claw felt a sense of urgency—rightness.

  Finding Eristta’s amethyst gaze, a palpable current passed between them. One he’d felt more than once since their coupling. It was like a plaintive call. A ripple of something beyond them, yet part of them.

  And even as his heart soared, his gut rebelled knowing that what Darous was proposing was dangerous beyond measure should things go wrong.

  Eristta raised her chin and brought her hands together. She spoke in Aquier, the ancient words falling off her tongue like a fine melody—slightly out of tune. A ball of liquid silver formed above her palms. She grinned wryly. “We must know where they are—if we are to flee in the opposite direction. And I think your forest friends have all fled, shaman.”

  Whispering to the orb, it spun wildly. The surface faded to an opaque haze, and then pictures appeared. Golems. So many they were a massive black wave rippling over the land. Eristta whispered again, and the view receded, revealing the enormity of the mass. “They march west of us by only an hour.” She looked up, her face raw with disbelief. “How is that possible?”

  He should not have been surprised that Eristta could also use the orb for remote viewing, he’d simply never seen her do so before. Her breadth of power continued to amaze him, as did that of her brother, Serosen. Both had shown him ways of melding with the energies of the land in a much deeper way than he’d ever thought possible on Earth. “I am certain,” Red Claw said, “that Garethan’s mages aid them.”

  Slapping her palms together, the orb vanished, and Eristta rounded on Red Claw. “Garethan’s mages are certain to detect the doorway quickly, but how do we ensure they will turn the army to intercept us, and not simply send a magickal emissary?”

  Red Claw fixed them each with a somber stare. “There is a way.”

  The firewhit landed on Red Claw’s shoulder, his heels tapping the leather band of the pendant. “You are thinking more than one doorway, shaman?”