The Circle of Six: Emily's Quest (Legends of Eostra)

by Sanders, Dan

  Emily was tempted to spend a few days resting. She was so tired from the pressure of the chase and Aldrick’s rejoining; she felt her nerves were at an end. Her skin was itchy and sore, and her mind seemed to fill day and night with the distressed feelings of the land. The air city of Thilameth resonated deeply with her. Maybe she could help Lupi reconnect with her homeland.

  “Nonsense,” pressed the Queen. “It is less than a sun cycle when flying on the Fistur, so you have ample time.”

  The fear was visible in Lupi with every word she spoke. “We have a final task to complete at Storven in the south, near Jalpari. It pains me to say we must leave by the morning. I am sorry.”

  “Ahhh the Reven folk at Storven,” the Queen mused. “Nonetheless, you must eat tonight. You can spend it with your parents. Emily will seek the test after a sound sleep. You will need your energy, my dear.”

  Emily’s skin itched at the mention of the test.

  The Queen swept away, leaving the companions alone with the reassuring splashes of the stream below. The gentle afternoon sun filtered through the trees. Lupi flew in back and forth between the balcony and the stream. Emily eventually broke the silence.

  “What’s wrong Lupi? You have been unhappy ever since you knew we were coming to Thilameth.”

  “Don’t worry, Emily. I am just upset I had lost connection with my homeland.”

  “Are you sure that’s all?”

  “Just drop it.”

  Lupi distracted herself by flying over Rupurt. He played along and hopped in the air, grabbing at her delicate feet.

  “You are our friend, Lupi,” Rupurt said. “And a best friend, I would say. We have a right to worry.”

  Lupi looked down at Rupurt. She smiled warmly as she said, “I haven’t had that for a long time.”

  “What? Somebody worry about you?”

  “No,” she said lifting the blue rabbit into the air and swinging him in circles over the stream, “a best friend.”

  Emily smiled.

  Rupurt kicked his little hind legs in protest. “Please put me down. I don’t like heights.”

  Lupi hugged Rupurt and set him down.

  A sombre woman’s voice intruded. “Hello Lupita.”

  Lupi spun around, her mouth open. “Mother, Father. What are you doing here?”

  “The Queen sent for us. She said you were here, so we came as fast as we could.”

  The two Agramond before them were of about the Queen’s age. The woman had long cream hair with a see-through rose coloured robe that hovered at her ankles. Lupi’s father had closely cropped black hair that revealed the small pointed ears of the Agramond. His black crystal tunic swallowed the fading daylight.

  Lupi’s parents drifted closer.

  Lupi said, “Let me introduce you to Emily, the Chosen One.”

  Rupurt had hopped behind one of the pillars on the veranda and pressed his face against the clear pillar. His distorted face through the refracted crystal made everybody laugh, accidentally easing the tension.

  “And this little darling is Rupurt,” said Lupi.

  “Pleasure to meet you, Rupurt,” said Lupi’s mother.

  A young valet appeared and ushered them to dinner. Emily was relieved as she didn’t know what to say to Lupi’s parents. The Queen left the small party alone to dine, which made conversation even more difficult. Emily and Rupurt did most of the talking, regaling Lupi’s parents with the many adventures enjoyed and endured during Emily’s time on Annwyn. They seemed like simple folk who showed concern over the dangers approaching on Annwyn.

  “Why don’t we get told of these things?” Lupi’s father said.

  “Boriel dear, the Agramond never become involved in the affairs of Annwyn. You know that.”

  “My point exactly. When should we be told? Does the Queen think it better to have the serene faces of the ignorant buzzing around while the elements themselves are under threat? Should we continue to drink from the same well of peaceful superstition and history, ignoring the history and truths of another being’s reality? At some point we must face the ugly truths, whether we like them or not.”

  “Hush now. You are always so scandalous. And in the Queen’s home no less,” said Lupi’s mother.

  “I am simply saying that at some point, our society needs to be aware of the reality of our neighbours and our role in the broader ecology of Annwyn. We may be master of the Air Lore, but of what use is that if there is no Annwyn for the Air Lore to continue? Are we to become irrelevant?” Lupi’s father folded his arms.

  “Have you no shame? No wonder Lupita is like she is.”

  “Like what, Mother?” Lupi said.

  “Nothing, I misspoke.”

  “No, you didn’t. Out with it.”

  “I just meant if you were not off in the world like some vagabond, you would spend time at home with your family and your people.”

  “Is that what you think my absence is? Some little tryst or adventure?”

  “Well, how long has it been, since…”

  Lupi scowled at her mother and moved away.

  Emily tried to change the conversation. “Does anybody know what Eostra’s Egg looks like?”

  Lupi’s father answered, “It has not been seen in two millennia, even on Thilameth. I have heard that—”

  Lupi buzzed back to her mother. “I’ll tell you how long it’s been since I left. It’s been nearly fifty years. You and your cloistered little mind, Mother. The things I have seen and done! Good people doing good things with what they have been born with. They may not have the knowledge and power you have, but they have the truth of what they can see and study; the truth of their own existence. They seek knowledge from all sources, not just from the same tired old books, as nice as the ones you read may be. Not all truth is contained in one ideology.”

  Lupi folded her arms and hovered near the ceiling. The attendants had long since vanished leaving the Queen’s dining room strangely empty. White light in the room emanated from the crystal walls. Lupi continued with an afterthought, “All people of Annwyn are my people, not just this tiny, ageing little segment hidden in the clouds.”

  “Lupi, how dare you say that? When you left we grieved after you. The whole city of Thilameth grieved, for years. We sent our request to Arwin, our beloved Air Elemental, every day to look after you, to bring you home.”

  “I didn’t ask for your love or pity, or forgiveness.”

  Lupi’s father glided over to her and rested his hand on her arm. “It is not pity. And no forgiveness is required.”

  “Don’t you dare bring that up. That is forgotten—”

  “You raised it,” Lupi’s mother said. “For some reason you spent your life running from it. You have to face it, Lupita.”

  “I will not.”

  Lupi’s mother joined her husband at Lupi’s side. “You will listen to me,” her mother said. “What happened that day to make you leave? We never found out why you left.”

  Lupi’s chin dropped onto her blue tunic, her shoulders slouched in resignation. Emily couldn’t believe what was happening to her friend, but wasn’t sure how she could help. When Lupi lifted her face again, her eyes were black. Her thin lips quivered as she spoke.

  “You don’t understand what happened. It was my fault she died.”

  “What?” her mother said. “Who died?”

  “Oni,” Lupi mumbled.

  “That’s not true,” said her mother. “Oni took her own life. The sadness had captured her heart since the attack from the Faoir.”

  Emily’s heart went out to her new friend and she said, “Lupi, who was Oni? Was she your friend?”

  Lupi looked up at Emily, as though for the first time. “What does it matter? Life goes on. I’ve moved on to my new life. Why can’t anybody else?”

  To the surprise of everybody in the room, Rupurt hopped onto the table and opened his paws to the group. “The Adros Rabbits have a saying.’Your present is what you live, but your past is what you carry’.
”

  Lupi smiled at her friend. “Clouds alive, I’m getting advice from a blue rabbit.”

  Lupi looked at the people in the room. She wandered past the glowing white walls and into the night. She spoke softly, deliberately. “I may as well tell you the whole story, if I can keep it together.”

  They all settled at the table again.

  Lupi sighed, and pulled at her black hair. “I was twenty years old when it all began. Oni and I were out playing in the southern ranges—”

  “I always said not to go that far south—”

  “Mother, in the name of Arwin—”

  “Sorry.”

  “I was always the adventurous one. I pushed her to play near Jalpari, near where the Faoir live. We came across a gang of Faoir playing with some Jalpari kids near the mouth of the volcano. Oni wanted to go home but I wanted to watch them.”

  Lupi’s voice choked. Rupurt placed his paw on her hand. She wiped her nose with the skirt of her tunic.

  “They saw us alone and started taunting us, calling us names. Oni was scared. They started pushing us around, threatening us with fire and throwing us into the vat with the fire-ants. We tried to flee but there were too many. They surrounded us…”

  Lupi’s words became laboured and thick. Emily felt her pain but didn’t know how to help.

  “They caught us… They held flames to our throat… You know how we hate fire… They began to insert fire into Oni’s eye… They were vile… I exploded, and threw a wind tunnel at them. Bigger than I’d ever been able to do. I blew two of them into the vat below. The others ran away, but…”

  Lupi stopped.

  “You don’t have to finish,” Emily said.

  Lupi looked absently at Emily before continuing, “I couldn’t find Oni. I heard her screaming. She was hanging onto the ledge inside the lava vat. I caught her but it was too late.”

  Lupi spoke quickly. “My wind tunnel had blown her into the vat and her wings had burned off. Her wings.”

  Nobody spoke. The night darkness pressed against the gently glowing walls, a blanket to the outside world.

  Rupurt said, “But you saved her. At least she was alive.”

  Tears streamed down Lupi’s cheeks. “You don’t get it. With no wings she was no longer an Agramond. Just a beautiful young woman with burnt stubs on her back. She loathed who she became. The Sadness grabbed her. She never recovered.” Lupi buried her face in her hands and cried, each word broken by sobs. “One day, nearly ten years later, she jumped from Thilameth to her… death. I couldn’t help her… I couldn’t…”

  For a long while nobody spoke. Only the tinkling sounds of the stream outside were heard. Lupi’s father broke the silence. “You must not blame yourself.”

  “I shouldn’t have put her in that position. I should have stayed away.”

  Lupi’s mother grabbed her daughter’s thin face and looked deeply into her eyes. ”Be clear about this, Lupita. Others killed her, not you. They are the ones who chose to harm you both. You were protecting her. My darling, is that what has kept you from us all these years?”

  Lupi nodded.

  “We have known what happened all along. After you left, Agramond investigators hunted the real perpetrators of this crime. They extolled your courage and great power to save her. You were a hero, darling.”

  Lupi’s sky-blue eyes were red and she let her tears run free. Her family closed around her, the old and the new, a bundle of wings and silk and fur, small in the crystal moonlight around them. Lupi’s face sank into her shaking hands, her shoulders quietly convulsing, the burden of her past pouring into the tranquil night.

  Chapter 33

  Mithrans and Sabina

  MITHRA,

  ANNWYN

  “Is she awake yet?” Daimon asked, rubbing his arms from the biting cold of the swamp.

  “For the fourth time, no,” Bevan snapped. He took off his cape and laid Sabina onto its silky covering. He eased her head even more gently. He wasn’t going to worry the others, but he knew the girl would not live beyond sunset.

  “You’ve been carrying her all morning, Highness,” Ketty said. “You should rest.”

  “Ketty, get her more poplar juice.”

  “We are almost out, Highness,” she said, almost in tears. She scuffled off to retrieve the flask.

  Daimon touched the Prince’s shoulder. “She’s right, you know. We have been travelling for an entire day without rest.”

  Bevan soaked a cloth in a puddle of water. He dabbed Sabina’s face and moistened her cracked lips. Why would she jump to her death? Women, he thought, I’ll never fathom their simple ways.

  He scanned the surrounding swamp, frustrated. It would be faster with his Largon, but the flying wagon was too large for the swamp. A grey mist sat like a formless ghost across the sharp reeds and slushy grasses. Water fowl squawked among the rushes. Where were they? He knew the Mithrans didn’t live in the main cities. He swatted a flying bug, venting the helpless anger rising in him. Since the girl fell he’d racked his brain trying to decide who had poisoned her. He was sure it was poison; it was the only answer. Maybe it was his own drink that he had given Sabina. Somebody was trying to get at him. He groaned. If Sabina had been awake she might know, maybe. This was turning out to be a tough and unwelcome adventure.

  Daimon interrupted his thoughts. “We need to seek help here. Sabina said it’s the Mithrans who live in this swamp. She said they are the only ones who can help her.”

  Bevan nodded. He remembered Sabina’s last delirious admonishment before slipping into a deathly slumber.

  Sabina groaned and tried to lift her head. “Cera, is that you?”

  “Shhh, rest, we are almost there,” Bevan said. He remembered the girl’s mother from the rejoining of the Professor. He dabbed her face again with the wet cloth and her eyes closed in relief.

  She doesn’t look like a Lorician, he thought. Her strong cheekbones and full lips were not typical of the peasant class. He adjusted the Seltan pendant on her neck, his fingers briefly touching her soft but greying skin. He watched the way her thin neck disappeared into her shoulders under the tunic. He suddenly remembered where he was and said aloud to the mist, “Where is that good for nothing Zenon?”

  Daimon said, “Remember, he went into town to ask the Korakians for help.”

  “She is so cold,” Bevan said. He stroked Sabina’s clammy forehead.

  Daimon shrugged, pulling his robe around his shoulders. ”How can anybody live in such miserable surroundings?”

  Bevan’s eyes lit up. “You’re right.”

  “What?”

  Bevan jumped up and started collecting stones and large rocks. As he laid them around Sabina he said to Daimon. “Will you stand around collecting memories, or will you lend a hand?”

  Daimon ignored the Prince’s tone and collected stones and laid them around Sabina.

  “What are you doing?” Daimon said.

  Bevan didn’t answer but finished making a roughly formed wall that surrounded Sabina’s still body. He laid his hands on the stones and pictured them in his mind. He pushed his will into the stones, and spoke quietly to them in the Reven tongue. It was times like these he was glad Rock Lore was his birthright. He just wished he had studied the other Elemental Lore harder. They would be useful in these situations. He chuckled to himself. He sounded like the girl. His hands hummed in concert with the rocks. The stones shimmered before glowing a burnt yellow. He removed his hands and adjusted Sabina’s head. Her clammy skin quickly warmed.

  Daimon fell to his knees and rubbed his hands. “Great idea. I wish I could do that.”

  “You could if you tried harder to connect with the land.”

  “I’ve been trying,” Daimon said. “You’ve seen how hard.”

  Bevan didn’t answer. Everybody around him was incompetent. He should have listened to Daimon and taken the girl back to Ibendari where she would receive better help. He agreed with her: they would waste too much time. Get the Harp, s
he had whined.

  The Prince’s nanny came back and said, “Highness, I have made an error. We have consumed the last of our poplar juice.”

  “Impossible,” he snapped at her. “How could you be so ignorant?”

  “Why don’t you let me tend to her, Highness?” said Ketty.

  Bevan dismissed her with his hand. The nanny bowed and retreated backwards into the trees where the flying carriage sat camouflaged.

  “I have an idea,” Daimon said. “Can you create a really bright light from the rocks?”

  “Of course I can.”

  “Light some of the rocks as brightly as you can and throw them into the air. It should get the Mithrans’ attention through this fog.”

  The Prince thought for a moment and nodded. “It might work.”

  He took three nearby stones, held them in his hands and focussed his will until they shone a bright red. He leaned back, and in quick succession, threw the three embers high into the air. As they reached their peak he yelled at them in the Reven tongue where they exploded into tiny bright lights filling the hazy sky. They all covered their eyes from the ruby brightness.

  “Perhaps a bit too much,” he said.

  “You think?” Daimon said, rubbing his eyes.

  “Now we wait,” the Prince said and wet Sabina’s face with the cloth again.

  “She’ll be fine,” Daimon said. He knelt next to Bevan.

  “Of course, of course,” the Prince lied. He rubbed his hair impatiently.

  Daimon’s idea had worked, for they soon heard the weeds rustle with angry barking and growls. Reflexively they whipped out their blades, crouched for action. Three thin men, no taller than Emily and with bulbous noses, filled the clearing. They carried spears with black crystal tips. Bevan had never seen anybody so tiny, like people in miniature.

  “Who’s that gives us away,” said one with a green tunic and matching shorts. “The whole region knows one with power is in the realm.” His bushy brow bent over his nose in a permanent state of concern, like a bridge casting a shadow.

  Bevan sheathed his giant blade onto his back and swept his arm wide. He said, “It is I, Bevan, Prince of Ibendari.”