She would have answers from Sath as to why he had resorted to such a dangerous trick. If she had not known better, she would have thought him every bit the Bane of the Forest once more, and she wasn’t really sure that she did know better. However, Elysiam had known something or seen something that made her take the rest of the group to safety. All Gin could do was trust her sister-druid, or her questions would get the best of her. No time for that now, she thought as she ran at the two combatants.
Sath and Dorlagar were locked in a struggling mass of arms, armor and weapons. It seemed hard to discern where one stopped and the other started! Gin swung her weapon around and raised it above her head. “Don’t hit Sath, Don’t hit Sath, Don’t hit Sath,” she muttered, and drove the blade downward.
“What did you do that for?” Hackort demanded, waving his axe in the air angrily. “I was about to take him!”
“I was following the plan, Hack,” Elysiam said, her voice stern. “We have to stick to the plan. Gin ran in and threw things off kilter for a moment, as she is well known for doing, but now we’re back on track.” She sat down to meditate, facing the entrance to the castle. “Gin should be coming out of there with Sath at any moment, and we need to be ready to provide cover.”
Hackort snorted. “Provide cover? We should be in there helping Sath. You know that Dorlagar is going to call that entire Keep down on them and they’ll need the help.”
“Gin will transport them out, Hack,” Elysiam said.
“You know, the gnome might have a point there,” Teeand said. He tugged at his beard as he pondered. “Gin did botch the plan to begin with by running away from Sath.” The dwarf’s face became troubled. “Guys, what if I was right and she does want to stay there with Dorlagar...we’ve just signed Sath’s death warrant.”
Hackort began pacing in circles. “I can’t just sit here,” he said. “If Teeand is right I can’t just sit here and let Sath die.” He swung his axe around. “And if I find out that Gin had anything to do with Sath’s death...”
“ENOUGH.” The one word from Gaelin stopped all of their arguing. “While I agree that this may be a dangerous idea and it did stray from the plan... I think that the gnome is right,” the mage said slowly. Elysiam spun around to face him.
“What? This was your plan to begin with, Gaelin!” She bit her lip, obviously furious. “Now you want to run back in there? We’ll all be dead if we do.”
“Hackort, you are not to harm Ginolwenye, do you understand me?” Gaelin said as he knelt to look Hackort in the eye. The gnome nodded. “Not that I think you would, but we’re all worried about Sathlir and we must keep our heads.”
Elysiam tightened her grip on her weapon. “And just what will we do when we get there, Gaelin?” she asked.
“One way to find out,” Gaelin said as he took off toward the Keep’s entrance, grinning all the way. The others followed with Elysiam bringing up the rear and swearing loudly.
The Qatu roared in pain as Gin’s blade sliced into his leg. Gin immediately yanked the blade back, nearly causing Sath’s knees to buckle under him. “A well placed hit, my Blueberry!” Dorlagar called out.
“Gin, I told you to RUN! Do as I SAY!” Sath snarled at her. Ignoring him, Gin ran at Dorlagar, swinging her blade madly. Dorlagar reached for her just as she swung, and her blade left a deep gash across the palm of his hand. The human balled up his fist and swung at her, catching her squarely in the back and knocking the breath out of her. She doubled over but Dorlagar yanked her back up by her arm, placing her between himself and Sath.
“Careful, Cat!” Dorlagar said. “Don’t want to hurt her, do you?”
“Let her go, Dorlagar,” Sath said, a low growl forming behind his words. “This is between you and me now.”
He took a step forward, but Dorlagar managed to position Gin so that any blow Sath dealt would hit her first. So it has to be, he thought. Forgive me, Gin... Sath balled the claw weapon and backhanded Gin out of Dorlagar’s grip. She flew across the ground and landed with a sickening crack on the ground. Sath ran at Dorlagar, cursing himself inwardly for not casting a pet as soon as the battle began and hoping that Gin was still breathing.
Hackort entered the area just in time to see Gin fly through the air. A low growl rumbled in the gnome’s chest as he ran at Sath and Dorlagar, his axe raised to strike. Gaelin was right behind him, keeping a close eye on the angry gnome. “Which one of you hit Ginny?” he demanded as he skidded to stop in between Sath and Dorlagar. “I want to know which one of you to take off my Do Not Kill List.”
Dorlagar beamed a smile at Hackort. “Your friend the Qatu can take the credit for that blow, but I’m afraid you’ll have to step back, gnome. Sathlir is mine.”
“Then I guess it will have to be you,” the gnome said, grinning at Dorlagar. “I had hoped it would be you. I really don’t like you.” Hackort charged at Dorlagar, bellowing with all the might his tiny lungs would afford. “This human needs killing, and we’re the ones to do it!”
“Wonder if my magic could take him alone,” Gaelin mused as Elysiam and Teeand nearly careened into the magician’s back. “Ah well, one way to find out!” Quickly the mage directed his magic at Dorlagar with ferocious speed.
“Well what am I doing just standing here?” Teeand chuckled, and then ran into the melee, taunting Dorlagar as he advanced.
Elysiam sat back at a safe distance, watching the fight. At the same time, she was scanning the immediate area for other combatants that might want to join the party…like that wyvern that was advancing on them from the south. “We’ve got one coming in from the south!” she shouted, but the others were a bit too far away to hear her. “Well then,” she said, smiling, “you guys stay over there, I’m going to try something.”
Raising her arms high, she cast a magical snare on the wyvern. The monster turned toward her suddenly as though an invisible hand had snapped its neck around and charged toward her, its pace slowed by her spell as surely as though it had been caught in a physical snare. Again reciting magical words, Elysiam caused a system of engorging roots to form out of the ground beneath the wyvern’s feet, and he stood fast.
“Now then,” she said, “were you coming to say hello to ME?” More magical phrases and the wyvern was surrounded first by a swarm of deadly insects, then by flames that seemed to cascade over him in smoldering white hot waves. He weakened and Elysiam backed up a bit, and then channeled the magical energy of the wind to slam into the wyvern. It stumbled toward her, having broken free from the enchanted roots at its feet, but made it no more than a few steps before the breath of Kildir himself, through the fingers and words of Elysiam, drove it to the ground in death. Elysiam then turned her attention back to the fight between the drawbridge and the courtyard.
Hack was staggering. Teeand was sitting to the side and binding his wounds with bandages as Sath and Dorlagar continued to swing and cast at each other. Slowly Gin roused and got to her feet, still very dizzy and off balance. She looked around at Elysiam and motioned for her fellow druid to move closer. Elysiam did as requested.
Gin raised her arms as high as she could manage and began reciting softly strained words in Elvish. Elysiam recognized the words and joined in but it was too late: the party was already being magically whisked off to the outpost. As soon as they had all recovered from the transporting, Elysiam looked around for Gin but did not see the other druid anywhere.
“Sath?” she said, moving to the broken and bruised cat on the ground ahead of her. She quickly cast a healing spell or two and soon Sath looked as good as new. “Where’s Gin?” Elysiam asked, fearing the answer.
“She’s not here?” Sath growled as his eyes widened. “That’s not possible, she cast the spell that brought us here. She has to be here.”
“Ely’s right,” Hackort said as he dusted himself off. “I don’t see Ginny anywhere.” Sath’s face darkened with fury as Hackort dashed about, searching the immediate area. Elysiam also joined in the hunt, then stopped when she notice
d Teeand sitting on the ground next to Gaelin.
“She stayed behind,” Teeand grumbled, irritation clearly audible in his voice. “I don’t know why or how, but as we were ported I saw her run from us back to Dorlagar.”
“Not possible,” Sath repeated.
“Could be some sort of enchantment, perhaps?” Gaelin suggested. “Elysiam, you were the closest to our Ginolwenye at the time, did you see or hear anything out of the ordinary?”
Elysiam thought very hard. “No, I saw her get up and motion me closer, so I came over to where she was. She started chanting, and I moved closer to hear what spell she was casting. I started chanting along with her, just in case she was too weak to finish, and…”
Sath ran over to Elysiam, grabbing the druid by her shoulders and yanking her up to his height. “You did WHAT?” he demanded.
“Geez, Sath, put me down!” Elysiam demanded. “I said I started chanting with her in case she was too weak to finish or recite the spell correctly.” She wiggled in Sath’s grip and he released her, causing her to fall with a thud to the ground. “OW, I said put me down, not drop me on my…”
“Enough!” said Teeand, in an uncharacteristic fit of anger. “I think we all know what happened. When Gin heard Elys start casting the port spell with her, she stopped and ran back to Dorlagar so that she wouldn’t be transported along with us.” His eyes seemed to boil as he stared off into nothingness. “She didn’t want to come with us, Sath. We warned you that she might…”
“No!” Sath bellowed, again interrupting Teeand before he could make the suggestion that Gin wanted to stay with Dorlagar. The giant cat turned his back to the dwarf before stalking off toward the bank. His mind was spinning with memories of Raedea, comparing her to her twin Dorlagar, and intertwining with his feelings for Gin. He felt sick for a moment, but then his head seemed to clear as his heart hardened.
Hackort looked up at Gaelin; though the mage was sitting in the grass, the gnome was still considerably shorter than his Elvish stature. “Ginny didn’t want to come back with us?” Hackort said, obviously befuddled. “Why wouldn’t she want to come back with us?” He walked over to where Sath had sunk into the ground and laid one small hand on Sath’s shoulder, even though it meant standing on his tiptoes. “We’ll get her out of there, Sath,” he said. “Dorlagar’s been taken off my Do Not Kill list, don’t you worry.”
“Bah,” Sath said. He felt the last twinges of feeling for Gin, for Raedea, for anyone fading from his heart. What good was atonement for sins if this was how it ended? He didn’t need the Fabled Ones now any more than he had before, and he had certainly learned a lesson about dalliance with wood elf druids like Gin. Thankfully, there was no relationship to untangle; he could easily make a clean break and get back to the life that made sense. “Let her stay if that’s what she wants.” The Qatu rose, and stalked off. “I’m sorry, Rae, but your wishes cannot be. Let Gin wallow in her vengeance, I cannot care any longer,” he muttered.
Hackort was on his feet to follow when Elysiam stopped him, stepping in front of him. “Let him go, Hack,” Ely said. “You’ll only make it worse.”
“No I won’t!” Hackort exclaimed, suddenly spinning around to face the group on his tiny gnomish heels. “We’ll get her back. That will make it better. And this time, Sath won’t know about it and won’t go, so he can’t get charmed,” he said, matter-of-factly. “I just know that’s what changed Ginny’s mind, she got scared when Sath went all Dorlagar on her, but we’ll go without him and rescue her!”
“Do you really think we can just charge into the Keep and pick Gin up like a backpack of supplies and then ride right back out the front door?” Teeand glowered at Hackort. “Have you learned nothing from our past trips to that cursed ruin? You gnomes really are insane. What if you are running through the halls and come face to face with Lord Taanyth himself? Not happening, at least not in the name of the Fabled Ones.” The dwarf stood, dusted himself off, and headed for the entrance to the grand hall. Gaelin stood slowly and followed him.
“Well,” Hackort said, taking a deep breath, “there’s only one way to find out!”
Elysiam sat down on the ground and opened her spell book. Hackort looked hopefully at her but she shook her head. “Hack, there is no way. I am sorry, I love Ginny as much as you do, but it is over. She’s made her choice.”
Hack plopped down next to her. “I suppose. It was a dumb choice, but it was hers.” He began cleaning his weapon and leaned against Elysiam, who for once did not shrug him away.
The scene in the Keep was equally tense. “Dor?” Gin whispered. They seemed to be alone on the drawbridge, but she knew that the eyes she felt upon her belonged to the wyverns that stood at the ready, surrounding them. Dorlagar stood with his back to her, his arms folded across his chest. Perhaps he hadn’t heard her? “Dorlagar,” she said, her voice unwavering despite the choking fear that held fast to her chest. Slowly, as though moving through water, Dorlagar turned around to face her.
“You’re not real,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and pinched.
“I am very real, Dor, sweetheart,” she said, hoping the use of the nickname would convince him before it made her nauseous. Forgive me, Fabled Ones, she thought as she moved closer to Dorlagar, who took a quick step back.
“I don’t know what magic this is, but you can’t be real,” Dorlagar hissed at her. “Now leave me, I have work to do.”
Gin took a deep breath before she spoke. “If I am not real, then touch me and prove it,” she said. He cocked his head to one side for a moment, staring at her, and then gingerly stepped forward with his left hand outstretched. Gin braced herself for the revulsion that would come with his touch. His fingers barely brushed her cheek and his eyes grew wide. He gripped her chin suddenly, tears forming in his eyes, and pulled her closer. Gin gasped but held her eyes locked on his.
“Why…why are you here?” Dorlagar said, choking on the words. “Do you…did they leave you?” He released her chin but remained very close to her, staring down at her in disbelief. “Are you here of your own doing?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
“Aye, Dor, I am,” she said. Before she could breathe, Dor swept her up in his arms, crushing her to his chest.
“I’ll never let you go again,” he mumbled.
“Aye, you’ll never have to,” she said. Because I will end you, provided I can keep Sath and the others away from here, she thought. Images floated through her mind of the scene in the Outpost when the party arrived without her, and a tear escaped from her eye. Her time with the Fabled Ones might be at an end, but her wait to avenge her parents would be as well, and that was what mattered most.
Twenty-Two
Dorlagar stood for a long time on the drawbridge, his arm locked around Gin’s shoulders, holding her fast to his side. She swallowed hard with revulsion. “I can’t believe you’re here,” he whispered repeatedly. She looked up at him and forced a smile.
“And yet I am,” she said. “I suppose you should again deliver me to that wizard so that we can get the spell ready and escape this cursed place?”
“And you will take me with you?” Dorlagar asked. The childlike quality in his voice since he began to believe that she had stayed purposefully was tugging at Gin’s heart, but she knew that she must not let it affect her. This must be how he was before he lost his sister.
“Of course. You will be free as well, Dor,” she said.
“Hold out your hands,” Dorlagar ordered, his tone suddenly rough. Gin looked up at him, confused.
“Why?” she asked.
“Prisoners don’t walk around here free, Gin, remember?” he whispered. “It will keep you safe.” Gin took a deep breath and held her wrists out in front of her. “Much better.” He secured her hands with a piece of rope he had removed from his belt and gave it a little tug. “Just like before, only this time you can be sure that filthy Qatu won’t put his grimy paws all over you. I should have killed him for that. I may still.”
; “Don’t worry about Sath,” Gin said, swallowing hard. “After my performance I doubt he will want anything to do with me…not anything good any way.” Dorlagar startled and looked back down at her.
“I will never let him hurt you again, my Blueberry, I swear it,” he said, and the honesty in his gaze nearly brought her to tears.
“I know.” Gin bit her lip as he tugged on the rope, leading her to the turret where Taeben was being held.
She struggled with some of the stairs but finally made it, near total exhaustion. Dorlagar did not knock but flung the door open to find Taeben hunched over his journal again, writing furiously.
“Oh, you again?” the wizard exclaimed as he looked up and saw Gin. “I can’t imagine that Lord Taanyth wants her again, Dorlagar, she was all but used up before.” He searched Gin’s eyes and face, his eyes lighting on the scratch down the side of her face. Frowning, he shook his head. “She does seem a bit worse for wear, perhaps there is something more suitable in the cells?”
“It is to be her,” Dorlagar said. “Our Gin has volunteered.” He beamed a proud smile that caused Gin’s stomach to lurch. “You will come with us. Hands out.”
“I will do no such thing, I have work to do and…”
“HANDS OUT!” Dorlagar dropped Gin’s rope and moved quickly across the room, a cloud of blackness and death coalescing around his hands as he moved. The moment he touched Taeben’s robe, the wizard shrieked in pain and his knees buckled. Dorlagar grabbed both of the elf’s slender wrists in his meaty hand and quickly tied them together. “Now then, shall we?” he said as he yanked Taeben up to his feet.
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