by Philip Smith
“Such a shame, Paige.” Matildra snickered.
Paige clenched her fist, but did not snap at the girl. Instead, she worked her jaw in frustration. She mumbled, “Two can play at that game, Liv.”
The chieftain's two daughters played a cat-and-mouse game well into the night. One would snag the merchant’s son for a waltz, the next for a reel, and so on. Meanwhile, Derak seemed to be relishing in the attention, trying his hardest not to show favorites and be as courteous as possible. As the seventh dance died down, Paige was grinning at the handsome lad as he spun her around the dance floor, then stepped away and bowed as the musicians wrapped up the song. No sooner had the last notes drifted away like bonfire smoke in a breeze when Olivian was back at his side.
“Derak, come, sit with us! They’ve just brought out the mince pies and wildberry scones!”
She didn’t leave time for his protest; she simply grabbed his arm and pulled him over to a table where she was sitting with Matildra and the bevy of other well-dressed young ladies.
Paige stalked to the chieftain’s table in disgust. She was willing to do many things to battle her sister, but enduring the ceaseless chatter from that particular group was a bit much, even for her.
The chief’s daughter plopped down next to her mother in a huff. The chieftan’s wife looked over at her with kind green eyes reflecting the light like a peaceful pool of seawater. She was clad in her favorite white dress, with a fine green sash made from the wool of wild mountain sheep. Her waist-long white-blond hair was braided and held in place with an exquisite silver hairpin designed to look like a thorny rose, with several small, silver buds about to bloom. She looked at her younger daughter, her thin, angled face and slanted eyes masking a quizzical gaze.
“You don't look like you’re enjoying yourself, Alwasu. You and Olivian have been stabbing each other with your eyes all night. Do you harbor animosity towards your sister?”
“No.” Paige sulked, slumping in her chair. She glared at the figures twirling around the platform, shadows from the center fire dancing across her face. Even the smell of the roasting boar on the spit couldn’t please her tonight. It felt like someone had stuffed her gut with sawdust; the nasty feeling and taste still haunted her mouth.
“That’s not what it looks like to me,” Elenass commented, watching the Olivian and Darak sit and laugh with their group at the table across the hall. The hall basked in bright firelight.
“It’s not fair!” Paige nearly growled. “She ran to Papa just to get her way. Did you see that? Now just because I’m younger, I have to take a second seat and watch Olivian be a total fairy about it.” Paige didn’t often invoke such an insult, but she was so angry tonight that she didn’t even care.
“A fairy?” Elenass replied thoughtfully. “You mean you want more attention, and your sister is making it a point to rob you by becoming the center of the world?”
“No! Yes! I mean...” Paige sputtered, not liking the childish shadow her mother’s observation cast upon her.
“Well, this mustn’t go on. We can’t have you two biting each other’s heads off. It’s not good for your teeth.”
She leaned over to her husband and whispered something in his ear that Paige couldn’t hear. Alaire, with a solemn expression on his face but a twinkle in his eye, nodded and filled his cup with more wine from the clay pitcher at his right. He rose steadily and motioned for the musicians to cease playing. As soon as the jig died down, he gestured for the couples on the dance floor to be seated. The chief lifted his goblet high above his head and shouted in a loud and boisterous voice.
“Friends! It is time we tell the tale of this year’s bountiful hunt!” A round of cheers and yips leapt forth from the crowd, and they scurried to get to their seats. Papa grinned his widest smile as the little children of the village flocked over to his table and sat before their beloved chief, cross-legged, with large eyes that shone with wonder. He once again stepped up onto his table, and Paige saw her mother roll her eyes once again this evening.
“Why, I recall it was only two months ago on a ghastly day in the great mountains to the west. We pursued a great herd of mountain bison. You now feast upon some of them in your trenchers. Four-thousand and up, there were, some bigger than this platform! We climbed for days….”
Paige settled back into a more comfortable position, ready for the long and witty story that would certainly follow. She gazed around, surveying the beautifully lit mead hall with the shields tacked onto the supports for the seating canopy. Large carvings of stags and does decorated nearly every beam of wood in the building. It was cool outside, the breeze fluttering through the open forum like an ice blue butterfly dancing its way across the decks. She looked out to her right at the dark forest floor below and thought for a moment that she had seen a flicker. Animals often skittered about below, not fearing the humans so high above them. And it was far too late for any of the merchants to be milling about down there still. As her father’s tale continued, she thought no more of it.
Paige glanced at Olivian as her father droned on. She was barely even paying attention to Papa, choosing rather to snicker with Matildra and her coven while playing with a lock of Derak’s long hair. By the look on his face, Paige could tell Derak didn’t mind in the slightest. She knew she should take her Papa’s advice; she really shouldn’t care what the others thought of her, and she shouldn’t feel a need to gain their approval. But seeing Olivian, Derak and all the other girls huddled up and indifferent to her put a knot in her stomach.
One night. Olivian couldn’t let her have one night where Paige could be the belle of the ball. One night where, for once, she could dance with the most dashing young man on the floor. A sickening disgust gripped Paige’s gut, and she turned to her mother.
“Logheon te’ ah yeigh orhn?” Paige spat in Ehrenya, her mother’s native language. They always spoke Elvish when they desired to keep a conversation private, as none of the other people in town could speak it. Are you seeing this?
But her mother wasn’t paying attention to her. She was looking up at the open sky with a curious expression, her head cocked to one side as if she were listening to something far off. Paige put a hand on her arm, and the elf broke her concentration and looked at Paige with concern etched into her pale brow.
“I’m sorry dear, wha—” she began but cut herself short as her gaze alighted on Paige’s neckline. She leaned forward, reached out, and drew the silver necklace to her face. She looked from the necklace back to Paige, alarm in her eyes.
“Paige,” she said in confusion. “How did you…?Where…?”
Before even waiting for her husband to finish his story, Elenass grabbed and clutched the bottom of his robe and tugged it emphatically. Her father had just delivered a punchline that had the audience laughing and cheering, so he squatted down to one knee atop his table, laughing and wiping tears of joy from his face as he focused his attention to his beloved. She held the necklace out for him to see, and his expression froze then melted away. He stared first in disbelief, then in confusion, finally settling for grave seriousness.
“Where did you get that?” Papa asked her in a tone she’d never heard from her father: unsettled.
She was about to answer when she felt a sudden sensation in the base of her spine. It was back again, that tingling she’d had earlier that day, but more intense this time. It felt like an army of fairies were jabbing hot needles into her backbone over and over, yet her body seemed to be growing colder and more tense. The sensation spread quickly up her back and to her limbs. Then she heard a low groan quietly slip in over the din of her father’s tale and the laughter of the gathering. It was a moaning of death in the trees, a long, sorrowful sound. Paige heard the deafening crack of splintering wood. Her skin froze over like a pond in winter.
A shadow loomed overhead, blotting out the moonlight. Paige looked up. Her eyes widened. She opened her mouth to let out a scream but it felt like sawdust had again filled her throat. She barely even man
aged a croak. But it was too late to warn anyone as one of the gigantic Elder Trees fell slowly towards the unprotected villagers.
CHAPTER 3
Burning Skies
The tree smashed into the southern deck with a deafening BOOM. She heard someone’s blood-curdling cry as they plummeted to the ground four stories below; the remains of the bonfire’s ashes flung in all directions. Where laughter had trickled through the night sky only moments ago, shouting filled the air as panic ensued. Paige felt the deck shifting underneath her as she jumped up from her seat.
Alaire immediately spurred into action, leaping off the table and grabbing both Paige and her mother by their arms. He pushed them towards the bridges on the western side of the deck. People flooded past them to the bridges. Fire spread faster than they could run. Some people screamed, others jumped to try and put out the flames engulfing the thatch canopy. A huge chasm formed in the center of the platform, splitting the three of them from where Olivian had been seated. Amidst the panic and the screaming, Paige couldn’t see where her sister had gone.
“Go!” Papa shouted, shoving them forward. Paige tripped over overturned chairs and terrified parents as they corralled their children and called out for loved ones. But she couldn’t hear anything other than a dull ringing in her ears. Everything sounded like it was underwater, and she felt her eyes locking onto the rubble, unseeing.
“Hurry!” Papa shouted, hs cries yanking her back into the present as he pushed her onward.
“Alaire! Olivian!” Elenass shouted, pointing across the ever widening chasm.
“I’ll get her. Don’t worry. Get Paige out of here!”
“Papa! What—”
“Alwasu!” Papa said, grasping her shoulders and looking deep into her eyes. “Listen to me. Those trees do not just fall over. This is an attack, and there will be soldiers here any moment. I’ve seen it before. Listen very carefully. Are you listening to me? Go with your mother. Get your gear and get to the forest floor. Run. Run as far as you can and don’t look back. I will find you, but you have to trust me!”
Paige’s mind raced to the movement she’d seen only moments ago on the forest floor: a flash. Moonlight glancing off a spearhead or a breastplate.
Soldiers? From where?
There were no large-standing armies in the Wild, only in the countries far to the east. But what purpose would any of those people have being this far into a wilderness woodland? And how had word of an army not spread to them? They would have had to march for weeks through the hand-cut paths and roads in the Wild. None of it made any sense to her, and she was beginning to feel panic increase the pounding of her heart. Papa looked hard at her.
“This is going to be a massacre,” he growled. “Now listen; go. Get your sword, and—”
The deck bucked like an unbroken horse, causing everyone to lose their balance. They fell to their knees as the lumber cracked and settled, the gash in the wood widening. Paige saw several thick, heavy ladders being propped up with iron hooks on hinges set into the wood. Several of the Alatarian warriors instantly jumped up to knock them over, but no sooner had they set hands to the beams then they fell with dozens of arrows protruding from their bodies like porcupines.
“Olivian!” Elenass cried in desperation. Papa started to stand, hesitating only briefly as he gently touched the key on Paige’s necklace. He looked swiftly to his wife.
“I’ll get Olivian. You know what to do, Elenass. Get it from the study. I’ll meet you at the house as soon as I get Liv. But no matter what happens, get yourself and Paige out of here. Do you understand?”
“Alaire, I—”
“Promise me!” he shouted, pulling Elenass and Paige to their feet. Elenass nodded furiously. Papa kissed her quickly on her lips. He began to turn towards the fray when he glanced back at Paige and saw the look of terror etched in his young daughter’s eyes. He quickly tapped two fingers to his lips and gave her their little salute before rushing back towards the hole in the deck. The chief drew his dirk from his side and dove headlong into the sea of panicked villagers, making his way to the chasm.
A stream of shouting men poured out of the far end of the chasm from the heavy ladders, all wearing mail armor and white surcoats adorned with golden trim and sashes. Some held spears, while others held bows at the ready, loosing arrows into the helpless crowd. Some of the swords at the soldiers’ waists were decorated with serpents on the hilt, coiled and ready to strike. The soldiers wore turbans of the same shade as their tunics, embroidered with an identical snake emblem. Like vipers upon mice, they set into the crowd of men, women and children, showing no inclination towards giving quarter of any kind.
“Get to the house!” Elenass shouted, grabbing Paige’s hand and dragging her towards the end of the platform. Paige tried to swallow but couldn’t manage past the lump in her throat.
“But Papa—”
“Paige, this is no time to argue. Move!”
The tone her mother used sent a row of chills down Paige’s spine. She immediately lost any will to argue further. With one last futile glance back at the sea of people where father had disappeared, she took off with Elenass as they began to shove their way to through a sea of screaming villagers towards their house.
◆◆◆
Alaire felt his temples throbbing to the beat of his hammering heart. He glanced back to see two of the most important things in his world disappear into a sea of panicking people. He whirled about and grasped the rosewood pommel of his dirk, yanking it free of its scabbard. He quickly scanned the frenzied crowd across the gorge, trying to make way through the flames to the exit on the southeast corner of the deck. His gaze quickly darted back to the ladders in the ever-widening and shifting chasm in the Grand Hall’s platform. Soldiers were flooding the eastern end of the deck, their gilded armor bearing the crest he knew all too well. A mixture of rage and horror welled up in his throat. How had they found him? Thousands of times, he’d considered this moment, haunted by the possibility they would find him. But in those thousands of moments, he had not believed this would actually happen. His worst nightmare was becoming reality, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
“Alaire!”
The chieftain snapped his head to the side in time to see Xandla and Gerik also shoving their way through the crowd alongside him. Gerik had ripped one of the decorative shields from its handing grounds and was hefting his small axe in the other hand. Xandla had his own dirk drawn as well as a small steel buckler grasped tightly in his fist.
“Get out of here!” Alaire bellowed, pushing his way towards the chasm. “Get these people to safety.”
“What about you?”
“I’ve got to get my daughter!” Alaire came to a stop by the edge of the chasm. He could see hundreds of torches below amongst gleaming armor. At least four hundred soldiers moved steadily to the ladders and crawled up like termites ascending a mound. Some of the warriors were fending off the first wave of attackers at the eastern end of the deck, but more ladders and more men were steadily flooding the chasm.
“I’ll help you,” Gerik shouted, joining Alaire at the lip of the chasm.
“Xandla, we have to get these fires under control. Is the switch system still intact?”
Xandla nodded, his bald, glistening head flashing in the firelight. “The deck parts are not, but I can access them from the Pump House.”
“Do that. Turn on all the pipes, get the village saturated as best you can. It may buy the people some time to escape. We’ll meet you down below.”
Xandla nodded once more and took off towards the pump house. Alaire snapped his attention back to crossing the chasm. There was only one bridge Olivian could have gone down, assuming she had not fallen into the gaping maw of the platform. Alaire refused to consider this as an option. He had to get to the bridge and find Olivian.
“Think we can jump it?” Gerik asked.
“You’re the rabbit expert. You tell me.”
“Worth a shot.”
“On three, then. One… Two… THREE!”
The two men took a running head start and at the very last moment, Alaire propelled over the deep chasm with a powerful thrust of his legs. He felt suspended in motion for a brief moment, catching a look at the chaos going on at the forest floor. The market was engulfed in flames, and his people were scattering to no avail as the soldiers hunted them down like dogs. Then he felt himself falling, and his feet landed at the very edge of the wooden canyon.
Alaire rolled forward onto his back then used his momentum to propel up and forward. He turned just in time to see Gerik slip on the edge of the platform. The hunter slammed his axe into the deck as he began to fall backwards.
“Gerik!” Alaire shouted, rushing back to the chasm. He grabbed his friend’s arm and heaved till he could reach the rabbit slayer’s belt, which he hauled with all his might. Gerik scrambled up, some floor planks giving way under him as he fought to get to his feet.
