Sons of Evil: Book 1 Book of Dread

by Adams, David

  Orgoth shook his head. “I can march ten thousand men there. We can certainly breach the woods and find those we seek.”

  Kaelesh waved a dismissive hand. “You could, my brother. I do not doubt you. But it is unnecessary.”

  “What if they come out again?” Praad asked. “I could wait for them, pick up their trail.”

  “No,” said Kaelesh slowly, the wheels in his mind turning. “No,” he said again, more firmly. “I’ll send the Dezku that fool Landri called forth, and let them act as our spies. At least they’ll be better used as such.”

  “Very well,” said Praad with a nod. “And what do you wish of me?”

  “Come home, my brother. We need not concern ourselves with the book any longer. Corterra’s spirit has been crushed. It is time for a new order to rise and reap the harvest of what we have sown.”

  Orgoth growled, a low tone that his brothers understood was a signal of anticipation. “And the war?”

  “Enjoy yourself, Orgoth,” Kaelesh told him with an evil grin.

  Orgoth’s roar let them know that he would.

  *

  After two days of traveling with Calta and the other elves, the companions began to think that the Hidden Road might be Calta’s idea of a joke. He had said no more about it, and they did not ask, lest he tell them with a laugh that they had been upon it for days. But still they traveled west, and when Calta suddenly stopped with a smile on his lips and announced that they had arrived, they would have been pleased if not for the fact that they could see nothing out of the ordinary about this portion of the forest, and certainly no sign of any road.

  “Let me guess,” Darius said with a hint of sarcasm. “We’re going underground.”

  Calta shook his head. “No, my friend. Do not confuse us with the dwarves. We elves prefer sunlight or starlight, and plenty of fresh air.”

  “Well, it lives up to its name,” Adrianna said. “I can’t see a thing.”

  The elves laughed softly, but there was nothing mean-spirited in their mirth. “That is at it should be,” said Calta. “To elven-kind, the road is obvious. Brega stands upon it, as does Jarax.”

  “Should I be giving myself a headache trying to see it?” asked Barlow, squinting as if that might bring the secret path into focus. “Because that’s what’s happening.”

  “Here, let me help you. If you will allow.”

  Calta stepped toward Barlow, raising a hand, ready to cast some sort of spell. Barlow drew back, and the others wished Calta had chosen someone else, given Barlow’s occasional surly nature and his feelings about certain types of magic. Barlow withheld permission long enough that Calta halted, a look of concern starting to cross his features. When Barlow said, more out of politeness to his host than anything else, “Go ahead,” everyone was relieved.

  Calta touched the side of Barlow’s head, near the temple, and said a few words in elvish.

  Barlow’s jaw dropped open.

  Calta repeated the process on the others, and the Hidden Road was now plain to see. It was a simple lane, really, twenty feet wide at most, cutting a fairly straight path through the woods north-to-south.

  “What spell have you put on us that we can see it?” Barlow asked with an edge to his voice, one Calta might have missed but that his companions did not.

  “None, actually. The road itself has an enchantment upon any non-elf who nears it. For the four of you, I have simply broken that spell.”

  “Then I owe you my thanks.”

  “As do we all,” Silas added, his tone far more appreciative. But Silas understood his friend’s feelings. They had had far too many bad experiences with illusions and having their own thoughts and memories used against them of late. It was not easy to shrug off any magic affecting their minds as a simple parlor trick over which they could be amused.

  “Is the enchantment broken for us for good?” Adrianna asked, her knowledge of magic making her think that such would be the case.

  “For the remainder of your journey, certainly,” Calta replied. “A year from now…” He shrugged, indicating he wasn’t sure. “The road’s magic is old and strong, and is not limited to just illusions.”

  “What do you mean?” Barlow asked.

  “I will leave certain things unspoken. Let’s just agree that it is good you are not enemies of my people.”

  Even though Barlow knew he was no enemy of the elves, his first steps onto the road still had a slight hesitation to them. Once he and his friends had covered a dozen paces without event, he noticed that he had been holding his breath. He let the air out of his lungs, and shook his head at his own doubts and fears.

  *

  It didn’t take long for the companions to appreciate the Hidden Road. Their path was laid out for them, even without their elven guides, and many miles could be covered in a day. It only took a very short while to forget the road was secret at all, once the enchantment was gone, although it did occasionally come up in conversation.

  “What happens when something or someone stumbles upon the Hidden Road by accident?” Darius asked one afternoon. “If they can’t see it…”

  “They rarely know anything is amiss,” Calta said, confirming Darius’ suspicion. “It is sometimes good for a laugh if some creature tries to rest against a tree that’s not there, but even that won’t break the spell.”

  “You’d think something with enough intelligence could then figure out there’s magic at work,” Barlow said.

  “No doubt,” Calta agreed. “But knowing a spell’s at work and breaking it are two different things. And while the enchantment holds, the best one could do is to stumble along, probing to see which trees are real and which are not. Hardly an efficient way to move, especially if one is an enemy of my people.”

  They spent twelve days upon the secret path, and as they continued north, two things progressively changed: the trees grew thicker and taller, and the weather colder. The weather, they were told, was still reasonably warm for this part of the world in early autumn, and the trees, while common here, were of a type Barlow, Darius, and Adrianna had not seen before.

  “Dalatus, they are called,” Calta had told them several days ago, when those new to the wood first took note of them.

  “I did not know trees could grow so large,” Adrianna said while craning her neck to see how close to the sky they reached.

  “They are not large, for Dalatus,” Calta said with a grin. “The largest are closer to home.”

  While the words sounded as if they might be more prideful boast than fact, the newcomers soon admitted the first Dalatus they had seen were small in comparison to those they now passed. Most were large enough that the road could have been tripled in size and still would have passed easily through the trunks of the trees, had the elves desired to create such a spectacle.

  No sooner had they started to get used to the gigantic trees when Calta surprised them by announcing, “We have arrived. Welcome to Lon Antar, my home.”

  At first they did not understand, looking past his sweeping hand to the trees that still made up the bulk of their surroundings. “Another illusion?” Darius asked. “I don’t see—” His breath caught in his throat as he finally recognized what he was looking at.

  The enormous trees were close-packed, so close that they were easily joined by cut timber near the ground so that no gap was left between them, and by bridges and walkways higher up. The road reached its end at the center of a tree which had a gate built into its hollowed-out trunk, providing egress through what amounted to a massive outer wall. As they peered more intently, finer detail became apparent, ornate decorative carvings and spiraling stairs.

  “How large a place is Lon Antar?” Darius asked,

  “And how high do those bridges go?” Adrianna wanted to know, able to make out the dim shapes even up in the canopy.

  “I’ll let you see for yourselves, once we are inside. The city rarely disappoints. It is only a shame we did not arrive at night…I think then our city is at her fairest
.”

  Brega had gone ahead while they gawked, and was now having a brief conversation with several elves who stood guard at the gate. They welcomed him home with smiles and open arms, then ordered the gate open and stood aside.

  Calta led them into Lon Antar, moving casually to allow his guests time to sate their curiosity. As they passed under the tree leading into the city proper, they could see it had many floors and rooms above—far more of the tree had been hollowed out than just the entrance archway. Lanterns of some sort gave the interior a soft, yellow glow, but there was no flicker common to the light cast by a flame. These were imbued with some art or magic to shed such flameless light, a wise choice considering the dangers of the combination of fire and wood. Spiral stairs and linking bridges formed a latticework overhead, upon which many elves went about their daily business.

  Once they passed through the hollowed-out passage, Lon Antar was before them in all its glory. The Dalatus trees, although they were present at almost regular intervals, were less densely packed inside, leaving open spaces for travel. Even so, from the entrance one could not see the ends of the city right, left, or forward. Here, too, it was obvious the elven craftsmen knew how to handle materials other than wood, as stone, metal, and glass were used freely, adding complexity and beauty to their homes, as well as to places of leisure and commerce. The blue-skinned inhabitants were clearly intrigued by the newcomers, but their looks were neither hard nor cold.

  After Calta sent Jarax ahead to announce the arrival of the guests from the south, along with their request to see the queen and news of the disturbing object they carried, he saw them to their quarters, a group of rooms on the third floor of one of the larger trees. The fact that this tree was under guard was not specifically called out, but the guards made their presence obvious, and Calta made no effort to shield his guests from the fact that they would be watched. After they were settled in their rooms, he told them he would see to it that refreshment was provided, and that he’d be back with news of when they might expect to see Queen Aerlos.

  He was back a little over three hours later, and found the companions sharing a small meal in Silas’ room. “The queen wishes me to bid you welcome, and apologizes that she is pressed for time. She will see you tomorrow. Until then, it is my good fortune to be allowed to show you our beloved home, and to act as your host for dinner.”

  “The queen certainly owes us no apology,” Silas replied. “As to the rest, you have been more than a gracious host and guide already, but we would gladly partake of your hospitality once more.”

  “Excellent,” replied Calta. “Shall I return in an hour? You can finish your food and freshen up a bit.”

  “We’ll look forward to it,” Adrianna said.

  That evening was the most pleasant any of them could recall stretching back over many years. If only for a short time, they left their fears and worries behind, and lost themselves in the beauty of the elven city and the bonds of friendship that had been forged between them. Calta’s table was not over-abundant, but everyone ate their fill, and fresh meat and vegetables were a treat. Barlow even got the fresh-baked bread he had longed for only a few weeks earlier. When they said goodnight it was with more than a little regret. Anxious as they had been to see the queen, it now signaled a return of their focus to the burden they carried with them.

  Dawn broke clear, crisp and cool, and they were waiting with some apprehension when the guards came for them. They were led through the streets and toward the Queen’s Court, housed in one of the larger trees toward the center of the city. Calta had pointed it out to them the previous evening, but today they would go inside to see if their long trek north would bear fruit. None wanted to consider the journey’s cost. Luke’s life was a high price to pay regardless of what resulted from their meeting with Queen Aerlos.

  The Queen’s Court was, of course, finely decorated, being the centerpiece of the city, but its most unique feature was that it consisted of three concentric areas, rather than open space in the center with the rooms around the perimeter, as was common inside the other trees of the city. The innermost part was the queen’s private residence, while around that was her throne room. The largest ring was the Court itself, where much of the business of running the elven kingdom took place. The Court was a crowded, bustling place, but the companions were ushered swiftly through and into the throne room. As the door closed behind them, the noise and turmoil of the outer chamber was shut off, replaced by a calm quiet that made this inner chamber seem all the more regal, almost holy.

  Queen Aerlos rose to greet them. If age had stolen any of her beauty, the visitors would have been hard-pressed to picture her even fairer, but her face, especially her eyes, radiated a confidence that only long years and experience can bestow. “Welcome,” she said. “I am Aerlos, Queen of the Ice Elves. I greet you as friends.” Her voice was soothing, but if she gave a command one doubted she could be denied. She looked at each of them in turn, her smile growing as her gaze fell upon Silas. “It is a pleasure to see you again, Silas, after all these years. I take it by your attire that your training was completed successfully.”

  “It was,” Silas replied with a bow. “I am honored to have not been forgotten.”

  After the others had introduced themselves, Aerlos sat on her throne, a high-backed wooden chair with intricately-carved arms and legs, and said, “You have traveled far, and through much peril and loss to see me.” Here her gaze lingered for just a second on Darius, who eventually looked to the ground. “I only hope that any help I may provide proves worthy of such a journey. Tell me how I might aid you. Speak freely, for we are alone.”

  They had noticed that the guards had merely escorted them to the door, not followed them in, and that no attempt had been made to take their weapons. They knew it was no oversight, and it spoke less to any trust the elves might be showing them than to the power Aerlos had. Rumors of her skill with magic were well-known even in the south.

  “We know your time is precious, and you have many things to oversee,” Silas said. “But there is much that has happened on our journey you may wish to know.”

  “You are correct on both counts. But I have some understanding of what it is you carry, and would hear your tale in full, if you are willing to tell it. It is likely to be far more important than my daily duties.”

  Silas deferred to Darius, who started the tale from the beginning, the others joining in and adding detail or clarification as needed. Aerlos listened intently throughout, but asked many questions concerning the otherworldly creatures they had encountered.

  Darius had started to pull the book from his pack at his first mention of it, but Aerlos had quickly asked him to leave it where it was. Other offers to present it while they told their story were likewise denied. When they had finished, Aerlos asked for a few moments, which she spent in silence pondering all that she had heard. She took in a deep breath, let it out, and said, “I am ready to see the book now.”

  Darius took the book from his pack and stepped toward her.

  She held up her hands, a warding gesture. “I do not wish to touch it. Please just lay it on the ground.”

  Darius did as he was asked, then backed away with his head bowed. When he finally lifted his chin, he found that Aerlos was looking at him rather than the book.

  “I mean no insult,” she told him. “But I fear to even touch such an object.”

  “No insult taken,” Darius replied. “I felt…odd the first time I took it. Like bugs were crawling on my skin, and in my mind. I wanted to drop it and flee, but I couldn’t do that, not if I wanted to help my sister. I’ve held it enough now…” He shrugged and then said, “I guess I’ve gotten used to it.”

  “That is what I fear,” she said. Before he could ask what she meant by that, she crouched low and studied the book. After a time she closed her eyes, although her face was still square to the book, as if she was still probing in ways other than sight. Slowly her hand reached out, a slight tremble visible fo
r all to see. Her fingers, spread wide, moved within a half-inch of the Blood Book’s cover, then advanced no more. She pulled her hand away, then rose and sat on her throne, her eyes open and upon the book once more.

  She shook herself, as if remembering her guests, then gave them an apologetic smile. “I had hoped, somehow, that this thing would be something other than what you’ve guessed. Unfortunately, it is, as you suspected, a Book of Dread.”

  When she paused, Barlow asked, “Can you open it?”

  She answered with a question of her own. “Why do you wish it opened?”

  “To know what it contains. To see whether it has been used to bring the current woes to Corterra, and whether it might be used to stop them.”

  “A noble sentiment, indeed. What could be learned I cannot say. But I do know that no spell from this tome will be able to banish any evil that has been loosed in this world. Anything called forth might be sent back through force of arms or perhaps other devices, but this book will not give such answers. It was created by evil to do evil, and no power you or I have can turn any of the words inside to good.”

  “Are you saying we should not be seeking to open it?” Silas asked.

  “No. Only that what you find inside may not suit your purposes. You may understand who your enemy truly is after the book is studied, and knowing him may help you, but the book will not give you the means to banish or defeat him.”

  “You sound as if you already know what we’ll see inside,” Adrianna said. “As if you know who the enemy is.”

  Aerlos shook her head. “I do not. In days long past there were many such books. Some were more powerful than others. It is possible you’ve already faced the worst this book can summon. Or not.”

  “That’s not—” Darius started, a slight edge to his voice, then flushed red, thinking he might have insulted the queen.

  “I take no insult, Darius,” Aerlos said. “And I understand your feelings. I do not mean to be obtuse or coy. I do not know what is inside the book, and I’m sure after all you’ve been through that you won’t turn aside now. I’m just trying to prepare you a bit, to warn you, before we look inside.”