The Five Elements

by Scott Marlowe

  Ensel Rhe cast him a long, unamused stare before he said to Ursool, "We cannot spare much time here. Have you food we can take with us? I suspect we'll have few opportunities for hunting."

  The woman nodded. "I have dried boar meat, breetha nuts, and berries. Take all you can carry." She rose. "But you must be hungry now." Retrieving two wooden bowls along with two spoons, she returned to the cauldron set bubbling over the fire. Dipping a ladle in, she filled the first bowl with a thick stew that she handed over to Aaron. Hunger pangs he'd suppressed since entering the house and smelling the cooking food returned with a vengeance.

  "Thank you," Aaron said, dipping the spoon into the bowl without hesitation this time, the ache in his stomach overriding any sense of caution. The stew consisted of chunks of meat that tasted of venison along with potatoes and carrots seasoned with herbs. It was delicious.

  Ursool handed a bowl to Ensel Rhe who let it rest on his lap for a moment. Taking a deep breath, he exhaled slowly, then asked, "How much do you already know?"

  Ursool stirred her stew while she answered. "The fury of the Elements has been unleashed. That much is plain. But I am uncertain as to who or what has summoned such power."

  "There were dwarves—"

  "The dwarves had nothing to do with this. Not directly, at least."

  Ensel Rhe stared at her a moment longer, then he lifted his bowl and ate. He said nothing more. Aaron, who'd stopped eating only to listen to the brief exchange, now finished his first helping and was just thinking how best to ask for more when Ursool swept his bowl from his hands and re-filled it for him. Then, when he and Master Rhe had both finished eating, Ursool carried the dirty bowls away. By the time she returned, Aaron was just stifling a yawn.

  "You've had a long journey, with little rest. Please," she said, gesturing towards the only bed in the house, "take my bed."

  "Oh, no, ma'am, the floor will be just—"

  "Tsk, tsk." Ursool waved her hand in dismissal. "Just be sure to get out of those wet clothes first. You don’t want to catch a cold."

  Aaron stood, only to have Ursool take him by the arm and guide him to the bed. He was surprised his feet, which had groaned at every step a short while ago, made no complaint. He'd only soaked them in hot water, hadn't he?

  "You'll find fresh bedclothes and even something for when you wake in the chest there," she said, pointing at a trunk at the foot of the bed. "Shoes, pants, and all the rest. Should be about your size, too."

  While Ursool returned to the fire, allowing Aaron some privacy, he dug into the chest and found a nightshirt that looked about right. Quickly undressing, he made sure his laboratory vest with its alchemicals was set aside separately—it wouldn't do to have it mistakenly placed too close to the fire—and pulled the long shirt over his head. Then he lay down and tucked himself beneath the covers. The bed's mattress was no more than straw with a thin sheet thrown over, but it felt like goose feathers to his aching body.

  The witch returned, though she said nothing immediately.

  "Ma'am?"

  "No need for such formality with me. Ursool will do."

  "Ursool." The name seemed strange as it rolled off his tongue. "When I first walked in, you called me by my name even though I hadn't given it. I didn't hear Master Rhe say it, either. How do you know who I am?"

  Ursool looked thoughtful for a moment, then she took a stool and situated herself next to the bed. "There is an old tale told in these woods of a boy, a sorcerer's apprentice, who will come from a great city laid waste. Though the boy will venture abroad, he will return someday, riding a flaming chariot and righting all wrongs. The tale names this boy Aharon, or Aaron, which means 'mountain of strength' in the old tongue. That is how I knew your name."

  Aaron thought for a moment. He'd never heard or read of any such tale, though he had to admit legends and fables were not his usual subjects. Still, a story about him? It was ludicrous. Something in the witch's expression—a half-formed smile—related as much.

  "You made that up, didn't you?" Aaron asked.

  Ursool confessed. "Yes, yes, I did. It did sound rather nice, though, didn't it?"

  Aaron sank into the straw mattress. "I'm not really a sorcerer's apprentice and I don't know any magic." A flaming chariot, indeed. "I'm just—"

  Ursool leaned in close, placing a hand on his arm. Even through the blanket there was something about her touch. "You bear the mark of the great Elsanar himself. Did he not select you as his apprentice, above all others? That means something."

  "But, he never taught me—I mean, he taught me a lot, but—"

  "Aaron," Ursool said, the sudden sound of his name silencing him. "The fact that you are here, that you survived this far, tells me something of who and what you are. Never belittle yourself, or your accomplishments." Ursool lifted her hand from him and rose. "Now, get some sleep. Ensel is a hard taskmaster. No doubt he'll have you up and on your feet long before you'd like."

  She gathered his wet things—all but the vest—before leaving, drawing a curtain that allowed him additional privacy while blocking at least some of the light from the fire. Aaron closed his eyes, listening for a moment for any conversation between Master Rhe and Ursool. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but it would be hard not to. He still didn't know where he and Master Rhe were going. But there were no words exchanged outside the curtain, and soon, as weariness swept over him, he decided he didn't care right now, anyway. He let the warmth of the blankets and the crackle of the fire take him away.

  * * *

  The first thing Aaron wanted to do upon waking was roll over and fall right back to sleep. But a nagging suspicion that he'd already slept too long refused to yield despite his best efforts. Ultimately, there was nothing to do but get up. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he threw aside the covers and immediately grasped his arms to his body as a chill swept through him. He let it pass before he swung his legs over the side of the bed and gingerly let his feet touch the floor. Curious that there was no pain, he held up one foot for inspection. Remnants of some paste or unguent remained stuck between his toes, but his foot was otherwise clean and healthy and completely devoid of scratches or cuts. The other was the same. Aaron flexed his toes, not quite believing what his eyes told him, but further examination revealed nothing troublesome. The damage was gone and they felt as if they had never known hardship.

  He rose. Teeth chattering, he tossed a blanket over his shoulders and, sliding the curtain aside, found the room empty but for himself. Only embers remained in the fireplace and the cooking pots were silent. There was a small mat set on the floor. It took one step beyond it before the iciness of the wooden floorboards sent a shock through him. Without thinking, he leapt back to the relative warmth of the mat and immediately glanced about for something to put on his feet. On top of the chest was a neat bundle of clothing: pants, a gray shirt, a pair of shoes that looked about his size and at least two pair of socks—one for now and another for the road. His laboratory vest was there too, its alchemicals safe and sound by the look of it. Still, once he’d dressed, he took a moment to take stock of the vials, something he should have done before he'd gone to sleep. Everything looked in order. Then it was a matter of gathering up his now dry cloak from the hearth and setting out to find where everyone had gone.

  Master Rhe was outside sitting on the porch. There was no sign of Ursool. Without asking if he minded the company, Aaron took a seat on the one and only step next to him. Though the rain had stopped, a cold breeze had replaced it. The glow of the moon, low and just rising, penetrated the gloomy sky. He thought he'd slept at least five hours, maybe six. Longer than he thought he would have been permitted.

  "Are you rested?" Master Rhe asked without tearing his gaze from the surrounding woods.

  "Not really," Aaron said. "I could have done with another day or two of sleep."

  Aaron's attempt at humor was lost on the eslar.

  "How are your feet?"

  "Much better. Did Ursool—"

  "
Yes."

  Aaron scanned the trees. "Where did she go?"

  "She left just before the rain stopped. Something about gathering herbs before the moon rose. She should return shortly. The clothes, do they fit?"

  Aaron made a show of inspecting his shirt and pants. "Yes, well enough." Then he lifted one foot and set it back down. "The shoes are a little big, but I'll manage." When the eslar said nothing in response to that, Aaron drew his legs close and wrapped his arms around them. "Master Rhe? May I ask something?"

  Ensel Rhe looked his way, waiting.

  "How is it that Ursool had these things? The clothes, I mean. By all appearances, she lives alone and has no children. So why would she have clothes so close to my size?"

  Aaron expected a terse answer, either denying knowledge or, worse, an explanation of a truth he feared. That Ursool was, in fact, the monster he had suspected all along.

  "Perhaps she knew you were coming. She is a witch, after all. She ventures out, sometimes, to trade and hear news of the outside world. She probably gathered the items then. Either that, or," Ensel said, casting Aaron a sidelong glance, "perhaps the clothes are leftover from some boy she ate."

  Aaron didn't believe it. "Ursool has been nothing but kind. Besides, she looks nothing like a witch. She is…" He struggled for the right word.

  "Beautiful?" Ensel Rhe said.

  Aaron nodded.

  Ensel Rhe returned his gaze to the forest. "You see what Ursool wants you to see."

  "What do you mean? Why?"

  "Because that is her way. Because her true appearance is… frightening."

  Aaron took a moment to absorb the silence of the woods before he said, "She must be lonely."

  "She is," Ensel said, too quickly. "She is alone, all of the time. She keeps herself occupied during the day. But the nights, they are harder. She makes use of herbs—sleeping agents—to help pass the time. Such loneliness is consuming."

  Something told Aaron he no longer spoke of just the witch, but he kept his peace and did not press him. Instead he ached to inquire about their destination, but just when he'd raised the courage to break the silence again and ask, Ursool emerged from the woods. She held an oil lantern in one hand and a sack in the other. Light from the lantern shone across her and, for just a moment, Aaron thought he saw a figure hunched and limping horribly. But the sight quickly faded and, as she drew nearer, Aaron saw only the young and fair Ursool he'd come to know. Ensel Rhe stood at her approach, confirming what Aaron already suspected.

  "We're leaving now, aren't we?" he asked.

  Ensel Rhe looked down at him, for once not entirely without sympathy. "Yes."

  "Can you at least tell me where we're going?"

  The eslar's stare returned to the approaching witch. "Still east, for now. We'll keep to the hills until we reach the Narrow Cliffs. Then, south across the Upper Shelf to Wildemoore."

  Wildemoore? "Ansanom's manor?"

  Ensel Rhe didn't answer. There was no need, for Aaron had heard him well enough. Ansanom was an associate of Master Elsanar's, a collaborator in their research, and a sorcerer in his own right. But why were they going there?

  Before Aaron could ask, Ensel Rhe said, "I know you have many questions. There are, perhaps, some things I might tell you."

  He paused, leaving Aaron to think he meant to say nothing more. This was, after all, the longest conversation they'd had to date. But then Ensel Rhe continued.

  "Some of it you may already know. I will do my best to answer what questions you have, but only once we are underway." He looked at Aaron then, waiting for his acceptance. Aaron nodded. What else could he do?

  Master Rhe took the oil lantern from Ursool as she approached. Together, they went inside. Aaron followed. He managed to thank her for applying the unguent to his feet before Ensel Rhe took charge, busying them with preparations for his and Aaron's journey. Aaron was gifted with his own pack this time. Into it Ensel Rhe stuffed Ursool's promised provisions along with extra blankets, a few small pots for cooking, wooden cutlery, and a pouch of flint and tinder. Aaron was also given his own waterskin which he kept slung over one shoulder. It took them no time to prepare everything and soon all three were outside again.

  "Thank you, Ursool," Aaron said. "I hope we meet again someday."

  The corners of the woman's mouth turned up at his words. Then, with seriousness, she said, "You have a long, dangerous journey ahead of you, Aaron. Does thought of it frighten you?"

  Aaron narrowed his brow at the question, but when he spoke, he did so truthfully. "Yes."

  Ursool nodded. "We all know fear, Aaron. Even Ensel Rhe, though he'll never admit to it. Always remember that it is how we respond to that fear that is most important of all. Some drown in it. Others draw courage from it. Which will you do, I wonder?" She did not wait for an answer. "Take this." She moved closer. Held in her fingers was a leather string. At the end of the string was a canine tooth larger than Aaron's index finger. Aaron instinctively lowered his head as she placed the string about his neck. "Guard well this middling charm, Aaron. Never let it leave your person, for it may very well be the difference between life and death."

  Aaron lifted the tooth from his chest. It was bigger than any tooth he'd ever seen and stained red. Not all of it, but there was a distinctive streak across its length. The color was dark, like blood. Briefly, Aaron ran a thumb across it. The color did not wipe away. He let it fall to his chest, remembering the other charm he once had. He told Ursool about it.

  "This carving," she said, "what was its shape?"

  "A soldier. The man I bought it from told me it would protect me. It did. I mean, if it had any powers at all. I know the woodcarver was just telling me that so I would buy the carving, but I wanted to believe him." Aaron fixed Ursool with a stare. "I want to believe you."

  The witch smiled. "Perhaps this woodcarver knew something that you did not. Tell me, what did you do with his charm?"

  "I threw it away."

  "Really? Are you sure? Because I think perhaps it is still with you."

  "No, it's not. I mean, I know I threw it—" Aaron followed the line of her gaze to Ensel Rhe.

  She smiled one last time, then she turned and was gone, disappeared inside her house, all before Aaron could utter another word.

  Ensel Rhe was already walking away, forcing Aaron to run to catch up. As the trees thickened around them, Aaron glanced over his shoulder to take in Ursool's home one last time. He saw only a faint light shining from a window. Then, as they moved further from the house, the light faded and, finally, was swallowed by the night's darkness.

  10. A Change of Fortune

  ONE OF THE SITHERI CAME for Shanna an hour after sunset. There were protests, from the sergeant and some others, but once Shanna saw the lone snakeman framed in the open cage doorway, one scaly, claw-tipped finger pointing at her, she pushed past those trying to protect her and went quietly. She was led to the lonely tent where the other sitheri guard stood watch outside. At Shanna's approach, the tent's flap was lifted. She hesitated a moment, then entered. Neither of the guards followed her in as the flap was sealed behind her. Golden glow-globes greeted her, the fiery spheres, one at each corner of the room, providing light but no heat. Even still, it was warmer than outside just for the presence of the walls that kept the biting chill of the wind at bay. Shanna would have liked to have taken a moment to soak in the warmth if not for the boy staring at her with hunger in his eyes.

  He was dressed as before, in red tunic and pantaloons, except that now he also wore a king's robe, long and plush and trimmed in white fur that cascaded from his shoulders to pile at his feet. At his belt was a jeweled knife. He stood next to a gilded, darkwood chair that was occupied by the boney-handed man with the cane. The man was covered in the same simple gray robes, though this time Shanna spied the tip of a pointed nose and cheeks the color of milky paste within the cowl.

  The boy came forward. He didn't say a word. The same smirk he'd worn earlier and the lust in his
eyes said enough. Shanna backed up against the tent's flap, finding it as unyielding as a solid door. Then the boy took a quick step and grabbed hold of her arm. There were two interior, curtained doorways. Despite Shanna's best efforts to stop him, he dragged her toward the leftmost one. Desperate, Shanna looked at the man, slouched in his chair, but he showed no interest at all in the happenings before him. There was no one here to help her, no one except…

  "W-Where's Corrin?"

  The boy stopped. His gaze turned to the robed man. Nothing at first, but then one arm lifted and a boney finger pointed at the opposite entry. The boy released her and folded his arms across his chest. He gestured with his chin, prompting her with the glint in his eye, almost daring her to investigate.

  She did, casting more than one glance at her captors before she drew aside the velvety curtain and slipped inside. The room within was only partially lit by a single glow-globe. Its contents unfolded as she followed a narrow lane created by two long tables stacked high with an odd assortment of glass vials, stoppered beakers, flasks, metal crucibles, bone cupels, and a set of scales, one larger than the other. Tubules straight and spiraled formed a network amongst the containment vessels. Some hung suspended over oil-fueled burners that, right now, were unlit. Shanna eyed the paraphernalia with suspicion and wonder, then she lost interest, for just beyond the pair of tables was Corrin.

  She drew closer, gasping. Strapped to an operating table set near vertical, he was stripped to the waist with arms tied above his head and his legs spread apart. A single broad strap lay across his chest. Even at a distance, in the half-light created by the single glow-globe, Corrin looked… diminished. Drained was more like it, Shanna thought, as she eyed the tubules running from various parts of his body to just below his feet where they connected to some sort of manifold. There was a single outlet tube coming out of the device. Whatever vessel had been there was gone now. Trembling, Shanna saw that though Corrin's eyes were closed, he still drew shallow, barely perceivable breaths. She traced the path of the tubules from the device at Corrin's feet on up. There were so many, all inserted directly into him at his wrists, neck, between his ribs, and just below his ankles. They'd had no consideration for his clubfoot, the misshapen appendage having been stuck as neatly as the good one. Shanna took hold of one of the tubules between a thumb and forefinger and gave it a gentle tug. Fluids that had dried formed a sort of seal, but, once that seal was broken, it slid out easily enough. She removed them all, one after the other, pausing only once to wipe tears from her eyes. Corrin's only response was to moan as each tube left his body. Then she undid the straps. She undid his wrists and ankles first, then fumbled at the single strap across his chest. Once unclasped, Corrin's body slumped forward. She caught him as best she could. His diminished weight was still too much for her as they tumbled to the ground together. Corrin stirred at the rough treatment. His eyelids fluttered and a moan escaped his lips as Shanna untangled herself enough to lay him flat. She kept his head resting in her lap as she ran a hand across his ashen cheek. They'd done more than just drain him. They'd killed him.