Kishpa frowned at Brandella's reaction.
"I don't know…" he said slowly. 'This is a matter of honor. If I vouch for you and you can't pay, it will make me look like a fool to Piklaker-to the whole village. Don't you see that? Don't you see that you're asking me to risk my own reputation? I would do it if you needed food, a roof over your head-something serious. But you want to buy a foolish, useless bauble."
Mertwig stamped his foot, then looked over to where his wife still slept. "Don't tell me about foolish and useless," the dwarf countered heatedly, keeping his voice to a hissing whisper. "What about your collection of ridiculous spells? How much have they cost you?"
Kishpa's face showed his fatigue, and the long sleeve of his red robe shook as he drew his hand across his eyes, tangling his shock of black hair. Obviously, he didn't wish to argue. He simply sighed and tactlessly replied, 'The difference is, I didn't buy anything I couldn't afford."
The two, facing what could be death in battle on the morrow, stared across a widening chasm in their longtime friendship. Mertwig barely held his temper. "I'm telling you, I have to get that glass ball for Yebbie, especially after what she's been through tonight. She deserves it! Besides," he added plaintively, "I told everyone I was going to get it."
Kishpa appeared to be battling between his head and his heart. His gaze didn't meet Mertwig's. "I… I wish I could help you."
"By the gods, if anything goes wrong, I'm the one who's going to look like a fool! Not you!" said the dwarf, his voice suddenly stone cold. "Just tell Piklaker that I'm good for the debt. I'm not going to beg."
Rising wearily from the bench to put his arm around Mertwig's shoulder, the mage tried to break the tension. Kishpa's red robes seemed almost garish against the earth tones of Mertwig's stained clothes. "Please. You're making too much of this," the wizard said, his pained face a sudden portent of the old man he would become. "There's no reason for you to get angry with me. We simply have a different way of looking at things. I can cast a spell for you and create the-"
"No," the dwarf said petulantly, throwing Kishpa's arm off his shoulder. "I said / would buy the glass ball for her. That glass ball. I promised her. I keep my promises. Will you help me or not7"
"No."
Tanis saw the human soldier make a sharp turn into a narrow street. The mob of elves saw him, too, and followed, screaming for his blood. Tanis, behind the elves, feared they would reach the human before he did.
"He ducked into the stable!" came a cry from ahead.
The stable was right next to the smithy, and Tanis knew where that was. Rather than follow the elves, he circled behind the stable, hoping to catch the human as he tried to slip out the back way.
He wasn't the only one who had that thought, however. A small band of elves broke off from the mob and rushed to the rear of the stable. They got there before Tanis, and it was they who came face to face with the human.
Three of them were carrying weapons, while the fourth held the torch, which cast dancing waves of light on the determined faces of the angry elves. The human's face remained shrouded in shadow. Tanis heard the rapid breathing of the combatants and the crackling of the torch as he rounded a corner. He sprinted to join the group. The fourth elf was the first to fall, the human's sword impaling him in the chest. The torch and the elf fell as one to the ground, the light quickly extinguished in a pool of blood, dying along with the one who had held it.
In the sudden near-darkness, the red moon casting a weird glow over all, another elf charged the human, swinging a battle-axe. The human sidestepped and slashed with his blade, cutting a deep wound in the elven fighter's side. The elf screamed, dropped his weapon, and fell in a heap.
The remaining two elves held back warily, seemingly hoping to keep the human at bay until the rest of the elves could join them. The human rushed the two villagers who stood in his way.
Despite the blackness behind the stable, Tanis's elvensight showed him the back of a tall, powerful human bringing his broadsword to bear on a young elf who was clearly overmatched. Next to him, another elf crumpled to the ground, his right leg nearly cut in two.
The main contingent of elves had heard the sounds of battle and would join their fellow villagers soon. The human had to be aware of that. He intended to quickly dispatch the remaining elf who blocked his path.
Except Tanis was there to stop him. The half-elf left his feet and dove at the human as the soldier's sword came down at the hapless young elf. Tanis hit the human behind the knees with his shoulders, knocking him off his feet. The human's sword skittered out of his hand as they both went down, rolling over each other several times in the dirt.
The human ended up on top, quickly pinning Tanis's shoulders to the ground. The soldier reached for his belt and pulled a long, thin-bladed knife from a sheath. Tanis looked up at the man who was about to kill him.
At the same moment, blood began to spurt from the human's mouth. The tip of a sword protruded from the front of the man's throat as he dropped the knife and fell, dead, on top of Tanis. The young elf whom Tanis had saved only a moment before stood over the pair, retrieved his knife from the human and wiped it on the back of the dead man's shirt. Then he shoved the corpse off Tanis with one push of his leg and extended a friendly hand to the half-elf.
Tanis was grateful on two counts: He was alive, and he had not been denied the chance of killing his father.
The dead human was a stranger.
The inky gray light of the false dawn was diminished even further by a fog that began to blow in from the Straits of Algoni. In the murky light, the tense citizenry of Ankatavaka watched and waited. The villagers who had survived the battle of the day before stood on the ramparts on the east, south, and north sides of the town, fear their constant companion. The day before, they had been emboldened by Kishpa's presence. If that hadn't been enough, two brave strangers-the bold human, Scowarr, and his enigmatic half-elf companion-had joined their ranks. The pair had made a difference in turning yesterday's battle.
As the new day broke, however, the elves discovered that Kishpa had disappeared and that neither Scowarr nor Tanis had taken positions on the barricades. They feared they had been abandoned. Worse, they feared that their cause was hopeless. Word had spread that the humans now had magic-users on their side. It seemed as if the beleaguered defenders of Ankatavaka had little chance of surviving. The humans were likely, indeed, to drive them into the sea, just as they had promised they would. Many of the elves were privately considering taking fishing boats and fleeing while they still had the chance. The closer it came to sunrise, the less private the talk became. When they plainly heard the humans breaking camp and preparing to attack, the elven defense began falling into disarray, with loud arguments and occasional fistfights. At first, a few elves on the eastern barricade climbed down to the street and hurried toward the sea amid angry shouts from some of those who stayed behind. Soon, though, the example of those who'd fled inspired others, and scores upon scores of elves on all three sides of the village threw down their weapons and ran down the main street of Ankatavaka toward the boats.
Halfway to the waterfront, however, they came upon a dwarf, a young mage, and a funny-looking man with little shoulders. The trio stood in the narrow cobbled road, blocking their way. Shops loomed closely on each side.
"You shall not pass!" proclaimed the mage.
Hanking the wizard, the little man and the dwarf drew their swords in warning to those who might disobey the command.
This was no phalanx of intimidating soldiers blocking the path of the fleeing elves. It was just three men, alone, one with magic and the other two with swords, standing against neighbors in the murky morning air. The mage was pale and weak, and his companions didn't appear to be skilled warriors, from their looks. Yet the fleeing elves stopped. They would not dishonor their wizard, his old, dear friend, their hero-or themselves.
"I am returning to the barricades," announced the mage, blue eyes flashing. "I shall not be def
eated. I'll protect our village, our homes, our way of life. I am going back. Come with me."
Then the dwarf with the craggy face and slanting forehead pointedly growled, "I'm going back to the barricades because friendship and loyalty are not mere words to me. Come with me." Before anyone else could speak, the funny man with the tufted hair and little shoulders said, "I'm going back, too. Your battle is my battle. Today, like yesterday, your village is my village. And today, like tomorrow, my blood is your blood. I'm going back. Come with me." After he spoke, Scowarr felt his skin prickle. Maybe, he thought, he should forget about being funny and concentrate on being heroic.
The crowd muttered with uncertainty. "I'm going back, too," one wizened villager finally said. He turned, and two friends followed. Either shamed or inspired, an ever-growing column of villagers turned and marched back toward the barricades, their hope renewed, their heads held high.
The elves who had stayed behind on the barricades to defend their village were waiting grimly for the human attack when a cacophony erupted behind them. There were whistles, cheers, and voices raised in song. The deserters returned as if they were a fresh new army of reinforcements. But the most heartening sight of all was Kishpa and Scowarr, marching at their head.
Scowarr had promised that he would find the mage and bring him back. He had kept his word.
When the mage and the previous day's hero finally climbed the barricades, Ankatavaka was a village that felt fear no more.
But then, the battle had not yet begun.
17
An Apparition
The foq on the beach was so thick, that Tanis couldn't tell if the sun had come up or not. He walked back to Reehsha's shack in a murky gloom that mirrored his inner thoughts. He realized now that the chances of finding his father were more remote than ever. There were too many humans and too little time. Once the battle for Ankatavaka began again in the morning, many would die-possibly Tanis himself. And when one side won the battle, the other would be slaughtered. He had vowed to Yeblidod that he would wreak vengeance on her attacker. His mind was numb with shame; he wasn't likely to fulfill his oath.
With a heavy heart, he climbed the rocks that led to Reehsha's home. It wasn't until he neared the shack that Tanis noticed, with a start, that no candles burned there as they had when he had left. Had something happened? He rushed to the door and anxiously flung it open, not bothering to knock.
Brandella looked up in startled surprise. She was sitting next to Yeblidod, swabbing the sleeping dwarf's head with a cool, damp cloth. The woman put a finger to her lips, indicating for Tanis to be quiet.
Tanis nodded meekly, letting the tension drain from his neck and shoulders. He glanced around the inside of the dingy one-room cabin and saw that Brandella and Yeblidod were the only ones there. "Where did the others go7" he whispered.
"Wait," she silently mouthed, getting up and coming toward him. When she reached him, she took his arm and led him out the door. They walked a short distance in silence, the gray fog enveloping them as they strolled through the rocks to the beach. They could see each other, but little else, the shack merely a dark image that floated in the distance.
"Kishpa, Mertwig, and Scowarr have gone back to the barricades," explained Brandella. "They left just a short while ago." She'd thrown a shawl over her head, but droplets of moisture clung to the curls above her brow.
"And Reehsha?"
"He's gone to tend to his boat. When he returns, he will look after Yeblidod." Brandella glanced at him curiously. "And what of you? Will you stay here, or will you go to fight the humans?"
"Perhaps neither," he answered truthfully. "I came here for a reason."
"I know," she commented matter-of-factly.
Tanis did a double-take and took her by the shoulders. "You know?" he asked.
"Yes," she replied, her face puzzled, pulling slightly away from him. "Scowarr explained it to us last night after you ran off. He said you came to Ankatavaka to find two people."
"Oh. I see." Tanis took a deep breath. He could hear the waves in the distance, but they were lost in the gray- ness. The fog seemed to be suffocating him. Or maybe it was Brandella. The mist played around her face, softening her features and giving her an aura that seemed altogether fitting for a woman who was a memory.
"The human you were chasing? Was he one of those you came for?" she asked, gently extricating herself from Tanis's grip.
"No," said the half-elf, not quite knowing now what to do with his hands. He finally pretended he was cold by blowing on his fingers and rubbing them together.
'Then why did you run after him?" Brandella persisted.
"It doesn't matter now," he said, face downcast. He felt the damp of the fog clinging to his leather clothing. Seagulls cried, somewhere out at sea.
"It seems to matter still to you," she said, reaching out and tenderly touching his cheek, "or you wouldn't seem so sad." She surprised him with her gentle gesture, and she seemed more than a little surprised herself that she had been so bold.
"You're very kind," he whispered hoarsely.
"And you are very brave." It was a statement, not a compliment. Her eyes were frank, not coquettish. "I saw you on the southern barricade yesterday. I hoped that you would live."
"I hoped so, too," he said with a smile.
She laughed, a warm and infectious sound that came easily. "Scowarr's sense of humor must have rubbed off on you," she said.
Tanis raised an eyebrow. "You find Scowarr funny?"
She nodded, dark eyes quietly amused. "I don't know if it's what he says or how he says it, but, yes, he makes me laugh. Isn't he remarkable?"
"It would certainly seem so."
"He's more than just funny, though," the woman went on. "He also tells the most amazing stories. Truth to tell, I found them a little hard to believe. He told several, for instance, about you."
"Oh7" Tanis turned toward the sea.
"He said you appeared out of thin air, right in the middle of a skirmish. He was watching from a hollow tree trunk, and one moment there was nothing and the next moment you were standing there." Out of the corner of an eye, the half-elf could see the weaver eyeing him, watching for his reaction.
Tanis shifted his feet on the seaweed-strewn sand. He didn't know if he'd have another chance to speak with Brandella alone. If he was going to tell her why he had come to Ankatavaka, this had to be the time. She had given him the opening; he only hoped he could convince her that he was telling the truth.
"I did appear out of thin air," he said softly.
She took an involuntary step backward, clutching the knot of shawl at her throat. "Then you aren't real!" she breathed, eyes wide. "You're an image, an apparition!"
Tanis threw back his head and laughed. Her words struck him with such ironic force that he couldn't help himself. "I'm unreal?" he said, choking on his words, taking a few steps away from Brandella and then turning back and facing her. He threw aside both hands. "I'm an apparition? Oh, how I wish Scowarr could hear this," he added with a broad grin. "He thinks I lack a sense of humor. If only he knew!"
"Only knew what?" Brandella asked, confused by Tanis's strange behavior.
"That I'm the only one here who is actually real. You, Yeblidod, Kishpa, Scowarr, Ankatavaka, the humans outside the barricades-you're all only images living in the memory of a dying old mage. When he dies, you all will disappear. This isn't your life the way you lived it; it's the life you lived as he remembers it. I'm real flesh and blood. I'm the living being walking among the ghosts of one man's past. He cast a spell and sent me here."
"You're madl"
"You don't believe that," Tanis said. "You know that Scowarr was telling the truth. You know I've come here for a reason."
Her confusion seemed to be turning to anger. A pink spot appeared on each high cheekbone. "You can't just stand there and tell me I don't exist," she protested. In her annoyance, she let go of the shawl and it fell back from her glorious hair. Tanis caught his breath.
"You do exist-in memory," he said. "You are real-in memory. You do live and breathe-but it's not your own life. I've come to change that."
A sob suddenly rose in her throat, and Tanis felt a pang for what he was putting her through. "No," she cried, turning away from him and becoming nearly lost in the mist. Like the ethereal figure she was, she called out to him from the enshrouding fog, her words a painful cry: "I've dreamed of you-but with fear!"
Tanis moved quickly through the mist and reached out. He snared Brandella by the arm and pulled her in close to him. "Don't fear me," he pleaded. "The old mage sent me here for you, Brandella. To free you."
She stood her ground, curls flying free in anger. "Free me from what7" she demanded. "From my happy life? From the man I love? This is not possible. I refuse to gol"
Tanis shook his head. "You don't understand. This is Kishpa's dying wish."
She straightened defensively and flounced back a step. "He's not dying. You said so yourself. You said he would live to a ripe old age."
"So I did. And so he has. Listen to me. Where I come from, ninety-eight years have passed since you cared for Kishpa here in Reehsha's shack. Where I come from, he is old now, dying in a burnt-out glade, lying against the side of a blackened tree, imagining you, remembering you in your glorious youth. And it is he-the old mage, the old Kishpa-who has sent me here to take you from his memory before you cease to be."
'It's a lie!" Brandella cried, eyes aflame. "It's a trick. Kishpa suspected that you were not to be trusted. He told me so. And now I see that you have come to destroy us. I won't let you!"
To Tanis's utter astonishment, Brandella drew a short- bladed knife from a hiding place inside her shawl. She was fast, and Tanis was too dumbfounded to move. But she stumbled as she jabbed the blade at Tanis's side, drawing blood with a cut above the hip.
Tanis the shadow years p2-3 Page 10
