by Jordan Baker
"That is wise advice," Ariana replied.
"From one queen to another," Laurana added. "I hope you don't mind."
"Of course not," Ariana said, then she saw one tree that was much larger than the rest, with its thick trunk that looked almost to be the size of a mountain. "Is that the first red tree?"
Laurana nodded and Ariana stared up at the majestic branches that reached out and up into the sky. The carriage and a contingent of elven guards continued on toward the giant tree, leaving the procession behind, as the many elves began to spread out, looking for the places in the red forest were they would take shelter. They arrived near the base of the giant tree and Ariana was surprised to see a sort of structure built in front of it that looked almost like a kind of country manor, but made from tree roots intertwined with stone, in the elven fashion. Nathas and Kaleb stood waiting out in front and they each helped Ariana and Laurana down from the carriage once it came to a stop in front of them.
"Welcome to the red forest, our humble home away from home," Kaleb said.
"Queen Laurana, Princess Ariana," Nathas said with a nod.
"What an interesting structure you have created," Laurana commented, looking at the strange building and finding its hard angles more suited to stone than to living wood.
"The elves who helped us were very talented," Kaleb said. "We tried to make it feel a bit like home, and according to a plan that is like the palace in the elven city.
Ariana walked toward the tree and she placed her hand upon one of the giant roots that curled from the ground. The tree rustled at first and then she heard its whispering voice, young and strong, and happy at her touch.
"You remember me," she whispered, and the tree rustled cheerily, then the ground began to rumble and the tree began to creak and groan.
"What is happening?" Kaleb asked, a little alarmed, then he saw the roots of the tree begin to shift and move, and the structure changed shape into something less angular, and far larger than it was. It took all but a few moments, and when it had stopped Ariana turned and smiled.
"The tree wanted to make what you wanted, but it was uncomfortable with so many corners," she said. "It hopes this is acceptable."
"Of course," Kaleb said. "The tree can grow however it likes. Please tell it we are grateful for whatever shelter it is willing to provide."
Ariana laughed when she heard the tree respond.
"Your respect is much appreciated, Lord Kaleb," she told him. "Shall we go inside and take a look?"
Laurana and the others followed Ariana as she walked through what had been a nearly rectangular portal, which was now a tall archway, and found a large room that closely resembled the court at the elven palace, save for one particular feature, a large wood and stone hearth that was built into the far wall.
"Is that a hearth?" Laurana asked.
"It is," Ariana replied and she touched the wooden wall and felt the tree respond to her question, which she asked twice, to be sure. "It is perfectly safe." She walked over to the hearth and summoned a flame, then she touched it to the stone of the hearth and it flared to life, burning as though from nothing.
"I do not know if I will ever become accustomed to the idea of a fire inside a tree," Laurana commented, and she laid her hand on the wall for a moment, finding it hard to believe that such a thing would be welcomed, and yet the tree was perfectly fine with it.
"How does the fire burn?" Kaleb asked. "These trees do not catch fire. Even fallen branches and twigs we have tried using for cookfires do not burn. That was one of the reasons Queen Laurana let us have cookfires in this part of the forest, for which many of our people were very grateful, though we have had to gather wood from elsewhere."
"There is some kind of air from deep in the earth," Laurana explained what she had just learned from the tree. "The tree brings it up through its roots and feeds it into the hearth. Apparently, some of the other trees do not yet reach deep enough into the ground for this to be possible, but the ones that do are eager to provide the same sort of thing in the other dwellings, for they have noticed the people going about such labors just to make a few fires."
"Ask them if they'd mind if we took a few saplings back to the Maramyrian lands," Kaleb said. "I'd love to have one of them build me a hunt camp."
Laurana laughed. "Without help from elven magic to help them grow you might have to wait a very long time before you could make something big enough to live in."
"I doubt the elves would support the planting of a rogue forest outside their lands," Nathas commented.
"A rogue forest," Kaleb replied. "I do like the sounds of that."
In front of the hearth, in the place where the dais inside the elven court would be, there were several curved benches that made a kind of sitting area and Ariana walked over to one of them and sat down, glad to get off her feet.
"Come, let us rest a moment," she said to Laurana and the two commanders, who she had noticed both now wore jeweled swords at their belts, which she recognized as two of the godswords that Ehlena had carried the day before. "We have much to discuss if we are to defeat the enemy."
*****
Quenta coordinated the retreat of the remaining elven forces, with the scouts using the trees to send messages to him of the Darga positions. The leaders of the various warrior groups were not at all pleased at the idea of running from the enemy, but they agreed that they were fighting a losing battle, and if the enemy were to poison the trees again, then they would be in even greater peril. All through the night and into the early morning, the elven warriors engaged the Darga in a systematic yet seemingly haphazard way, making it look as though they were fleeing, but drawing them toward the red forest and slowing them down, in order to afford as much time as possible for the rest of the people to prepare for the coming attack. Luckily, the winged Darga had not yet used any of the poison stones, which would have made it far more difficult for the elves to tarry in this part of the forest.
Quenta placed his hand on a tree and he heard a whisper from the trees at the edge of the clearing that surrounded the red forest, that the people from the elven city had arrived and were safely sheltered, and he turned to the three outsiders who had fought tirelessly through the night, killing dozens of Darga and saving many of his people.
"It is time," he said to Borrican, Storm, and Lexi, the mysterious girl in blue. "You three go on ahead. If we are to catch the enemy unaware, it would be best if you remain out of sight until the last moment, and be careful not to breathe any of the poison smoke if the Darga take to using it again."
"Understood," Borrican said. "Safe travels, Quenta."
"Where are we going?" Lexi asked.
"Follow," Storm told her, then he nodded and took off at a run, with Borrican loping after him. Lexi stared at Quenta for a moment from behind her elven mask, then she disappeared with a flash of light.
Quenta sent word through the trees, ordering the rest of the elven warriors to fall back to the red forest, then he sprung up into the tree above him and let its power flow into him as he leapt from a branch and soared through the air, making his way through the trees toward the one place in the forest he disliked the most.
*****
Draxis stood atop a thick branch, looking out over the hundreds of Darga that had gathered on the forest floor below and their numbers continued to grow as hundreds more filtered from the trees in a steady stream of dark leather and scales, having heard the call to assemble. Winged Darga stood like lines of black birds upon the high branches above, many of them now changed into creatures much more powerful than they once were, elite warriors now, signified by the jeweled swords they carried and for the many elves they killed. He turned to the winged scout who had just informed him of where the elves were gathering. "Tell Berant of the location. We will move at once."
"Yes, Lord Draxis," the scout replied and took off through the trees.
Draxis watched as the Darga numbers grew into a seething mass of reptilian flesh, razor teeth and
claws, and he looked to the scouts and the Darga leaders. Their combined power was immense, and though they had lost many hundreds of warriors, the enemy had lost thousands. Draxis also knew that the regular Darga forces were chafing at the fact that so many of them were denied the use of the jeweled blades, but they would soon have their chance.
"Darga!" he yelled. "Warriors, our victory is at hand, the elven lines are broken and they run like cowards. You have fought bravely and killed many of our enemies, and for this you will be rewarded. For every elf you kill in the forest, you will be granted a human slave, and for every one you capture, you will have the right to take its life with a jeweled blade. This day we move as one, and our might will reign supreme. Blood and power will be ours!"
The Darga erupted into bloodthirsty cheering, pounding their chests and snarling their enthusiasm.
Draxis leapt down from the giant tree limb, spreading his dark wings like a cloak, and he flew over the assembled Darga, who now numbered in the thousands. The winged Darga flew after him and landed behind him as he touched down at the far side of the mass of lizard warriors, and together they marched forward through the forest, roaring chants of assured victory.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Calexis stood at the window in the palace, looking out across dark, thunderous skies, but her eyes were faraway, seeing through the eyes of a dead soldier as the army massed at the edge of a vast clearing in the elven forest. She could tell from the way the remains of the great trees that were splintered and strewn about the land, their giant roots protruding from the ground, turned grey from years of weather, and many of them charred from a fire long ago, that a great power had been unleashed in this place, and she shuddered at the thought of it. More surprising was what she saw at the center of the vast clearing, a forest of trees with reaching branches and leaves of red that from a distance looked like a forest of blazing fire, proud and defiant against her power.
In her distant memories of the few times the god had ventured into the elven forest, she did not remember this place as resembling the elven home, but many things had changed since she had last walked in the world, and it was clear that this was where the elves had chosen to make their stand. At the foot of the trees at the center of the clearing, stood the elven forces, staring silently at the invaders, while the soldiers and the Darga clamored noisily, awaiting the order to attack. Calexis saw Draxis walk out in front of the thousands under his command, then he raised his axe high and the thousands of Darga roared as a dozen of their winged counterparts leapt from the ground, each of them laden with sacks of dark gemstones. It was satisfying to watch, knowing that in a few moments the elves would lose the safety of their forest and that the poison smoke would drive them out into the open, where they could be destroyed, once and for all.
The flight of Darga climbed high toward the clouds in the sky, far higher than any arrow could reach, where they could safely being to drop death upon the elves from above, but just as they made it almost all the way across the clearing, Calexis noticed that the clouds above them began to move. They began to slowly curl around like a giant vortex, and the Darga were now being pulled away from the red forest. In her ancient memories, she had seen something like this before and she used her power to take control of the soldier, through whose eyes she watched. The soldier pushed his way through the crowd and began fighting through the mass of Darga. Several of the lizard men turned angrily at being jostled and pushed by one of the weak humans and Calexis had to exert her power even more to knock them out of her way. She broke through the ranks of the Darga and made it to where Draxis stood watching the strange vortex that had suddenly appeared in the sky.
"Draxis," she said, and he turned to look at the soldier whose eyes glowed with dark energy. "Send your flying Darga to spread the poison gems through the forest. You will not be able to use them here."
"Mother, what is happening?"
"It is the power of one of the gods," she told him. "Keep to the ground and be wary of the wind."
"Then we will lose our advantage," Draxis growled.
"Use the gemstones to destroy the rest of the forest," Calexis told him. "I doubt the wind can stop your Darga if they disperse and it will be a blow against the morale of the elves to know that they are powerless to save their precious trees."
"As you command," Draxis said, then he stared at her, his hard gaze, penetrating deep into the eyes of the dead soldier. "Is there anything else you would like me to do, or do I have your leave to wage this war?"
"A speedy victory to you, Draxis," she said, irritated that he would take such a tone with her, but she let it go for now, and the glow in the soldier's eyes faded away.
As soon as her power was gone, in two quick, powerful cuts, Draxis sliced the head off the dead soldier and cut his legs out from underneath him. The Darga laughed raucously at what Draxis had done, but their laughter died down when the winged lizard men that flew toward the red forest were sucked up into a vortex and disappeared into clouds that had grown ominously dark. Lightning flashed and thunder cracked across the sky, up beyond the spiraling clouds, and the Darga watched in curious fascination. Irritated that he would be unable to destroy the forest ahead, Draxis obeyed Calexis' command and instructed several dozen winged Darga that they were to disperse through the forest with the poison gems as soon as the attack began, and he sent word through the ranks for the other winged Darga to be careful of the wind, lest they get sucked up into the sky. Since the plan to use the stones would no longer be possible, Draxis decided not to wait for Berant's forces to arrive. He gave the order to attack and the Darga surged forward toward the elven lines, with Draxis himself leading the charge.
They were halfway across the clearing when dark objects began to fall from the sky, trailing smoke as they hit the ground. As the Darga neared them, they recognized the shapes of limbs and the scaled flesh and claws of their winged brethren, cut to pieces that were charred and now lay smoldering on the grounds. Draxis growled angrily and the Darga echoed him as they continued forward, trampling the pieces as they raced toward the unmoving lines of elven warriors. Over the din of snarls and armor and the thud of thousands of heavy footsteps running across the clearing and swarming over fallen trees, came a powerful roar from above, and a streak of black appeared in the sky, flying straight down through the hole in the swirling vortex. The large, black dragon screeched again as it spread its wings and came rushing toward the charging mass of Darga.
Draxis looked to his Darga warriors and they readied the oversized crossbows he had prepared in anticipation of the return of the dragon. What he had not expected was the streak of white that shot down from the sky as a second dragon appeared, shrieking its challenge with a deafening roar. The Darga readied the heavy iron bolts and aimed at the black dragon as it neared them, but the creature flew directly toward them and let out another thundering roar, this time with a blast of white hot fire that melted their iron and incinerated a number of Darga. Another team of Darga fired at the black dragon, and an iron bolt attached to a thick chain pierced its wing. The creature roared and, with a snap of its powerful jaws, it broke the chain in two, but the injury pulled it from the sky.
Borrican skidded sideways across the dirt, his claws raking up dirt and shredding the weathered remains of fallen trees. He snapped at the iron pin in his shoulder and pulled it free, then spat it out, but another bolt flew at him, striking him in the leg. It hurt, but not enough to slow him down and he leapt into the air, taking several lizard men with him as they held onto the chain. Several more bolts shot into the air, but they missed him and Borrican climbed back into the sky as Storm dove straight toward the moving Darga ranks, not even slowing, but crashing right into them. He plowed across the ground, sending dozens of the lizard men tumbling in all directions and destroying a number of the oversized crossbows they were using to fire their large iron bolts. Borrican shook his head and laughed as Storm punched the ground with his legs and leapt back into the air, evading the lizard me
n that tried to leap atop him. Borrican flew past Storm, and the white dragon nipped at the iron bolt that was stuck in his leg, yanking it free, then flying off with it as the three Darga that had been hanging onto the chain let go of it before he flew too high for them to survive a fall.
Borrican angled around for another attack, and this time he kept watch for more Darga with the iron bolts, angling past the few that were left as they fired another volley. He unleashed his fire again upon the Darga ranks and they screamed as dozens of them were burned, their leathery scales unable to stop the hottest of his fire. Borrican wished he could burn them all, but it took a lot of energy to breathe fire that hot, and he flew up into the sky to catch his breath from the exertion. Storm unleashed several blasts of flame, causing confusion among the Darga and injuring a few, but his fire was not hot enough to do lasting damage to the lizard men. He too retreated to the sky, and Borrican saw several dozen winged Darga leap up from the enemy ranks, half of them flying toward Storm and the other half toward him, and they both noticed the glitter of the jeweled blades in the clawed fists of the flying Darga.
Above them, the skies flashed with lightning and rumbled with thunder, then a blast of lighting struck the ground right in front of the Darga ranks, and a lone figure appeared in the smoke and flames, clad in elven dress of white and faded blue, and holding a jeweled sword. Leading the charge, Draxis recognized her at once, for Calexis had told him what to expect, and when the figure slid the elven mask from her face, his suspicions were confirmed. The Darga warriors sensed his killing intent and they spread around him, continuing the charge toward the elves as they had been instructed, as Draxis stopped a few paces away from his sister.
"Lexi," he growled, hefting his axe.
"Draxis," she said, her gaze cold and ruthless.
"Mother told me you had grown powerful," he said, and Lexi just stared at him. Draxis smiled. "Let us see just how powerful you have become."
