by Ben Hale
“You were talking forever,” he complained.
“Light,” Elenyr said. “What we talk about here cannot be spoken of to anyone.”
“Except my brothers.”
“Of course,” Elenyr said with a smile. “But what I’m going to ask you to do will be very dangerous.”
“Is it necessary?”
“I believe it is.”
“Then what do you need?”
“Do you remember what Serak looks like?”
“Of course,” Light said.
“Can you look like him?”
Light shrugged—and his features began to change. The light warped and bent, shaping across his features, lengthening his nose and darkening his eyes. His hair lightened, and his lips gained a cruel twist. The princess gasped when Light became their foe.
“It’s not possible,” she breathed.
“He is a guardian,” Elenyr said, as if that answered her doubt.
The princess stared at Light in shock, and Elenyr understood why. The complexities of a face made it difficult for mages to replicate. Even experienced mages took many years to create a false image of another, and even then, it did not last long. Then the princess realized Elenyr’s intent.
“You wish to send him to the Order?” Aranian guessed.
“With Willow,” Elenyr said. “She knows the Order, and he can look like their leader. Together, they can get the answers we both seek.”
“You want me to travel into the Deep?” Light’s features returned to normal, his frown one of doubt. “My power is limited underground.”
“You are the only one capable of becoming Serak,” Elenyr said.
“Shadow can bend his features,” Light said.
“Not well enough,” Elenyr said. “But when he returns, I will dispatch him to your aid. But time is not our ally, and you can do what none of us can.”
Light’s expression was uncertain. “I will be vulnerable.”
Elenyr grimaced. “And that is why this is a risk. But you will not go alone.” She hesitated, and then impulsively added. “Jeric will accompany you.”
“The elf?” the princess asked. “Why?”
“Because he is a master at discovering truth that others wish to hide,” Elenyr said.
She did not say that she wanted Jeric to help protect Light. Elenyr knew the danger of the assignment, and still felt a measure of conflict regarding Jeric. Sending him with Light would help the assignment, while giving Elenyr time to figure out what she wanted from him.
“If you trust him,” the princess said, “then I do as well.”
Elenyr inclined her head and then motioned to Willow. “Willow will also be your companion.”
“Willow?” His face lit up, and then he scowled. “But will she not be in the same danger?”
Elenyr couldn’t resist the smile at Light’s concern for Willow, and then explained how the soldier had infiltrated the Order. When Elenyr finished, Light regarded her with the most sober expression Elenyr had ever seen.
“I understand,” he said. “As you said, this is necessary.”
Elenyr stepped close and embraced the fragment, lowering her voice so only he would hear. “Come back alive.”
“I will,” Light said, hugging her back.
When they parted, Elenyr had a lump in her chest. Light was one of the stronger fragments, but in temperament he lacked wisdom, and Elenyr was asking him to don a dangerous persona. If he perished because of her . . .
Elenyr jerked her head and turned to Willow. The woman understood her question before she could ask. “I will keep him safe.”
“I cannot keep the truth from people for long,” the princess said. “You have only days before the people learn their queen has been taken. When they do, the people will demand answers.”
Willow’s features were fixed. “We will not fail.”
Elenyr had sent the fragments to face countless threats, but never had she sent one into such danger, and as Light departed with Willow, she wondered if it was the last time she would ever see him.
Chapter 36: Seeking Wylyn
Water and Lira left Keese and set a grueling pace east. The storms continued, and Water used the moisture to craft a pair of steeds. With rain battering them, they raced across the countryside. Water only paused long enough to cast a jungle cat, one that would track Elenyr and deliver a message. It disappeared into the storm, its body bounding from view. Water could only hope it would find Elenyr somewhere in Talinor.
Water sensed a rising urgency. With Shadow’s map in hand, they finally had a chance of locating Wylyn. There was always the chance that she and her son were not in one of the ancient outposts, but he suspected that Elenyr was right. He’d known enough nobles to know that once they grew comfortable with their station, they loathed living in squalor.
They pushed themselves until weariness overcame Water, and then camped in a small stand of trees. Water cast a bubble with his remaining strength, the dome shielding them from the storm, and allowing them to sleep.
Water sank into slumber, the fatigue of using so much magic in the last week pulling him into unconsciousness. His dreams were filled with Lira and their kiss, the image fading as she departed to rejoin the Eternals. And he said farewell.
He woke up, groaning at the sun in his eyes. Lira, standing at the fire, looked up and smiled. “About time you woke up.”
“How long was I asleep?”
“A day.”
Water lurched to his feet. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
“You’re attractive when you’re sleeping.”
He flushed. “We need to hurry.”
“I know,” she said. “But when we find Wylyn, we’re going to need our strength. You won’t be any good if you’re exhausted.”
Her words had logic, but it still irritated him that he’d been sleeping so long while Wylyn continued to expand her influence in Lumineia. For all he knew, she’d finished preparing the Gate and the krey were already on their way.
“Rest easy,” she said, seeming to sense his tension.
“How can you be so calm?”
“I’m well fed,” she said.
“How?” he asked.
She turned and revealed a plank of wood with bread, cheese, and a jug of ale—none of which had been present when he’d fallen asleep. She smiled at the surprise on his face and pointed north.
“When the storm ended I tried to wake you, but you slept like a child. Then I spotted a farm and decided to get us a meal.”
“You left me alone?” he asked.
“Of course not,” she said. “I left you a sentry.”
He spotted a small creature with four arms clinging to a tree above. It had a head that resembled a snake, and intimidating fangs. It was the first time he’d ever seen her cast an entity out of air, and he raised his eyebrow as he took a seat by the fire.
“Why do you not cast entities?”
“Honestly, I’m not very good. I use them mostly for sentries, but in a fight, I’m better with my blade.”
He still felt the same urgency, but one bite of cheese reminded him that he was also hungry. Deciding that she’d done well under the circumstances, he settled in for the meal, and savored the bread.
Without the storm, he could see that the trees they’d chosen for their camp were situated adjacent to a creek. Sunlight streamed through the branches, the streams of light illuminating their small camp. The trunks provided enough shade to feel cool, but he caught glimpses of the surrounding countryside.
They’d crossed most of Talinor during the storm. To the east he spotted the forest of Orláknia, home to the elven nation. Farms dotted the hills nearby, and from the architecture he guessed they were also elven.
“The races are very different than I remember,” she said.
“How so?” he asked.
“They were more distinct in my day,” she said. “Now, the blood of the races has become mixed.”
“Love has no nation,” he said.
“True,” she said. “But nations do not always permit such a union.”
“What do you mean?”
“I will show you,” she said.
He picked up his food and followed her to the edge of the trees. From there, he could see the farm she’d visited. He’d expected elves and was not disappointed, but then he spotted the mother, and she was human.
The woman scolded her sons, their muddy clothes indicating they deserved the punishment. But the mother’s words were tinged with affection, and it was obvious she loved the two boys. In the fields, the father used a flicker of plant magic to tend to the field of wheat, while an older daughter aided in the planting.
“Are such unions not frowned upon?” she asked.
“By some,” he said.
Her eyes were on the mother and her boys. “The Krey Empire cares nothing for human families, and few children are raised knowing both their parents. Strong children are sold like the people here would sell cattle.”
“Why do you share this with me?”
She turned to face him, her blue eyes intense. “Because even when these families are ripped apart, other mothers take these children in, and fathers raise those that are not of their blood. Race and age do not matter.”
Water read the mixed emotions on her face. She hated the krey, and loved the race she fought for. But this time there was something else in her eyes, a determination that had been absent before.
“You want to fight the Empire,” he guessed.
She flashed a determined smile. “Ero believes we cannot face the Empire, that we can only protect Lumineia from discovery. Until now I thought he was right.”
“What changed?”
“You.”
“How did I do that?”
Lira pointed to his chest. “I’ve seen what you can do, and you’ve made me think we can overthrow the Empire.” She seemed to shudder at her treasonous words.
“How?” he asked, thinking of Renara. “How can we possibly defeat such a foe?”
“I don’t have all the answers,” she said. “That’s what I’ll have you for.”
She laughed and turned away from the farm, forcing him to keep up.
“Are you saying you want me to be an Eternal?” he asked.
“I want you to be an Eternal . . . with me.”
He realized what she meant and caught her hand. She came to a halt and turned to him, but the amusement was gone. Instead it was a glitter of desire in her eyes. He tentatively leaned into a brief kiss.
“Is that a yes?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I would have to leave my brothers.”
“Will you consider it?”
“I will.”
She smiled again, her amusement returning. “Wylyn first. Then we talk.”
He couldn’t resist the smile on her face. “Agreed.”
The two gathered their supplies. She dismissed her entity and he used the stream to cast a new pair of steeds. Feeling much more hopeful than before, he led the way into the elven forests, and he frequently imagined a future with Lira at his side.
They worked their way south and west, heading for Cloudy Vale. She made no attempt to speak of the Eternals, and he realized she was content to wait. As much as he wanted to dream of a future as an Eternal, his thoughts turned to Wylyn, and then Serak.
He wanted to dismiss Serak’s claim, but there was too much truth in his words. But it was his motivations that Water questioned. Why had he revealed himself to Water, to give an offer he knew Water would refuse? Even more, what did he really want out of the fragments?
When Lira asked, he reluctantly shared his concerns, but she reminded him that they couldn’t afford to get distracted, and steered the conversation back to Wylyn. He knew she was right, but he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that their true adversary was Serak.
They ascended the hills and then climbed into the mountains until they reached the entrance to Cloudy Vale. He dismissed the water mounts outside one of the secret entrances and opened the door in the cliff. They ascended through the tunnels to the refuge, and he wasn’t surprised to find it empty.
The sun was setting on the refuge, the light fading from yellow to orange. Eager to explore the map, Water went straight to Elenyr’s archives, and strode through her receiving hall to the interior library.
“She won’t mind you inside her home?”
“We all use the archives,” he said, and then flashed a faint smile. “But don’t damage the books. Shadow learned that lesson the hard way.”
He ascended the steps to the platform with the fireplace and laid a fire. Then he used a phoenix feather to light the fire, the feather igniting the wood with ease. She spotted the feather and raised an eyebrow.
“Is that what I think it is?”
He nodded. “A gift from the Ancient, father of phoenixes.”
“I didn’t realize you knew the firebirds,” she said.
“Elenyr has many friends,” he said.
As the firelight filled the room, he withdrew the map from his pack and set it on the table. Lira touched the rune and it came to life, light glowing from within. But instead of examining the map, she manipulated the runes until the light flowed from the object, rising into a ten-foot sphere that resembled Light’s map when they had departed Cloudy Vale.
“Impressive,” he said.
“The krey may not have magics, but their machines are sophisticated.”
“Don’t let Light see this,” he said. “He would be jealous.”
She grinned and touched the runes, activating points of light across the globe. “This is all the krey outposts.”
“Not all of them,” Water said, pointing to an empty spot on the map.
“We should assume the map is incomplete,” she said, striding around it. “The question is, how can we find out which location is Wylyn’s refuge?”
“This,” he said, sweeping a hand at the library. “We can find out which have been destroyed by disaster or war. That way we can narrow it down until Elenyr arrives.”
“How long will it take?”
“The cat I sent to her will continue running until it finds her,” he said. “But it could take a few days. For now, we’ve got a lot of work to do.”
He nodded to her and they dived into the archives. He pulled down a number of historical archives, and they searched the records, eliminating locations on the map one by one. The hours passed in near silence, broken by moments of excitement when finding information on a krey site.
They worked deep into the night and then retired, both sleeping on couches in the library. The next day they continued their search, the discoveries growing further and further apart as they went deeper into history.
They ate and slept, the search consuming them both as they sought to find Wylyn’s refuge. Water tried to resist the doubt that Wylyn was in none of them. It was always possible Serak had prepared a place for the krey, but he doubted Wylyn would let the guardian take the lead, and she would be prideful. He hoped.
Four days after arriving at the refuge Lira dropped a book onto the table, the thud drawing his attention. He looked up from his own archive and leaned back to see her through the pile of books.
“Giving up?”
“We haven’t found anything since yesterday,” she said, pointing to the glowing map in irritation. “And there are still dozens of locations she could be at.”
“The others will know more,” he said. “I’m sure of it.”
“And if they don’t?”
Her voice carried a trace of worry. He rubbed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, contemplating where they could go with the knowledge they’d gained. Ultimately, he realized there would be only one choice.
“I guess we start searching them all.”
“A slow endeavor,” she said.
He rubbed his neck. “We’ll have to see what Elenyr has to say.”
“When she gets here.”
“She alre
ady is,” Elenyr said.
Water heard Elenyr’s voice and stood, smiling when he spotted Elenyr, Mind, and Fire entering the archives. Wending his way through the piles of books, he reached her and nodded in greeting.
“I see you got my message,” he said. He craned his neck for Light, but he was not present. “Did Light not find you? Where’s Jeric?”
“They have gone to another assignment,” Elenyr said.
Water noticed the conflict written on her face, and realized there was more to the tale. Worry and doubt flashed across her face before her features smoothed, and Water realized she worried for both of them.
“And Shadow?” Elenyr asked.
Water gestured to the krey map. “We met up with Shadow in Keese. He got the map but said he had another matter to attend to.”
He briefly detailed what they had encountered on their journey north and then to Keese, finishing with the conversation with Serak. Then Elenyr motioned to Mind, and the fragment shared his own tale. When Mind had finished, there was a scowl on his face.
“We have learned much,” Mind said, “but I find the revelations to be disturbing.”
Fire frowned and sank onto a couch before picking up a plate containing a crust of bread. “Where exactly did Shadow go?” he asked. “It’s not like he has another assignment.”
“It’s Shadow,” Water said with a shrug. “Who knows.”
“He offers aid in his own way,” Elenyr said, her features dark. “The more pressing matter is Serak. It seems impossible that such a powerful adversary has gone undetected by us for so long.”
Water saw the anger on the woman’s features, and realized it came from guilt. Elenyr had always planned with care, but none of them could have anticipated an ageless foe, one willing to operate from the shadows.
“One foe at a time,” Mind said, striding to the map and examining it with interest. “Right now we need to find Wylyn. Any progress?”
Water turned to the map. “We’ve eliminated some of the locations, but we’re hoping you know more.”
“We don’t,” Fire said, clearly annoyed.
Mind swept a hand at the piles of books. “What have you learned?”
