The Harrowing Path

by Cleave Bourbon

  “Actually, the Ardenian line descends from his father’s side.” Lady Shey corrected.

  Enowene wrinkled her nose, “Oh, well then I don’t know why, only that Ianthill wanted you to come along.”

  “Then what is your involvement?”

  “All in good time, Devyn, too much knowledge may actually work against you.”

  “Nonsense!” Devyn said. “If you are to convince me to continue with you, you’re going to tell me who you are.”

  She leaned in even closer so she could whisper, “I control a group of...well, there is no good way to put this...spies that keep close to Naneden and his kind. I deal in information; it’s what I am best at.” She leaned back. “We will talk again later. I have told you what I have in the hope that you understand your place in all this. Once we get to Adracoria, Ianthill will instruct you further.”

  “So, I am a chosen one like in the dragon stories?”

  Gondrial chuckled, “We are all chosen ones, then.” His words dripped with sarcasm. “More like chosen to be stupid. You are all merely descendants of magic wielders and Ianthill is hoping you few can be trained well enough to use against Naneden because the number of competent wielders out there is extremely thin. He isn’t even sure you lot are able to draw essence.”

  “Rennon will say this is all some kind of wielder trick.”

  “Aye, sure, that’s what it is.” Gondrial mumbled.

  “Gondrial!” Shey protested.

  “Well, no use in keeping it from him. The boy thought he was some kind of chosen one or something. That wouldn’t go well if he was faced with death. He might think he can’t be killed or something. Trust me; my way is better.”

  “I must ask you that you not tell Rennon or Kelle what Gondrial has blurted out.” Enowene said. “You must keep this to yourself until we reach Ianthill. Your friend, Vesperin, will join us in Symbor. Kerad has instructed him to be your council of Loracia and to look after your well-being, much as Kerad is council to Morgoran. You may confide in him if need be, but only to him.”

  I am not keeping this from Rennon and Kelle. Devyn thought.

  Kelle sat up on her horse and then rode next to Devyn. “Where are we?” she asked.

  Because he was still in thought, Devyn didn’t answer right away. It took him a moment to realize she was awake and talking to him.

  “What is wrong, Devyn?”

  Devyn glanced at Kelle. “You seem to be asking me that a lot lately.”

  “Well, then tell me and I’ll stop asking.”

  “We are going to Symbor to meet with Vesperin.”

  Kelle eyed him suspiciously. “What are you not telling me?”

  “A lot, but don’t worry, and I will tell you when I get the chance.” He cut his eyes toward Gondrial and Enowene. Kelle seemed to understand because she didn’t question him. “We are going to meet with Vesperin.”

  “And then...?”

  “And then we will travel to Adracoria and meet Ianthill,” he said. He was not sure if it was the dream or Enowene that convinced him, but he had made up his mind.

  “Rennon will not like it,” Kelle said.

  “Since when does what Rennon wants dictate what we do? We aren’t going against our will. He is free to go on back home if he so chooses. I am sure they will need his help defending the village. You may return as well if you are so inclined.”

  “Devyn,” Kelle scolded. “Rennon is your best friend.” She shifted in her saddle. “And I am going with you, always.”

  Devyn nodded. “Then it’s settled. We will go along and see where this all takes us, with or without Rennon. I’ll tell Gondrial and Enowene.”

  Devyn slowed the pace of his horse to ride alongside Gondrial. “We are going with you. Lead on.”

  Gondrial grinned. “I knew you would come to the correct decision. If we quicken our pace, we will arrive in Symbor just before nightfall,” Gondrial tightened his grip on his reins. “I think it would be best if we rode straight through to the docks. No side trips.” He gently nudged his horse to increase speed.

  Devyn sped up to ride beside him. Gondrial glanced over at him and gave him a slight, approving nod.

  Chapter 15: Adracoria

  Upon reaching Symbor, Gondrial insisted on taking the short roads to the docks and procuring passage there. Devyn found Gondrial’s manner puzzling. He hid his face from the guards and slinked about as if someone might recognize him. At last, Lady Shey booked passage aboard the Sea Hag, bound for the port of Adrontear, Adracoria.

  The day of departure was dismal. Summer was giving way to Autumn, and the ocean brought cold rain from the west. Devyn imagined the Jagged Mountains to the east had snowcaps, and Brookhaven probably had snow on the ground by now. He missed the snow and wondered if he would ever see it covering Brookhaven again. He watched as Rennon turned his nose up at every peasant and dirty corner of the city. At least he came along, Devyn thought.

  Lady Shey watched the captain of the Sea Hag pace on his deck from the dock. She looked off into the city, shaking her head at Devyn. “Gondrial is late again, and Captain Esterly grows impatient.” She put her hand to her forehead to shield her eyes from the sun.

  “What business did he have in town?” Devyn asked.

  “He would not say. He said he had to face it alone. I have my suspicions, but I don’t know really.”

  The captain shouted down from the deck of the ship. “I can wait no longer, my lady. I must leave port. The easterlies will not wait.”

  “One more moment, my good captain,” Lady Shey called back to him.

  Soon Devyn saw a horse speeding in from the distance. As the steed and rider neared, he saw it was Gondrial. Devyn pointed. “There he is, and he’s coming in fast.”

  “Well, it’s about time.” Lady Shey turned to the captain. “Our friend approaches. Cast off the lines.”

  The captain raised his hand in a circular motion, and the men began casting off lines. Devyn squinted. “Something is not right here. Gondrial is not slowing. I think he means to jump aboard ship.”

  One of the men securing the gangplank nodded at Devyn. “Methinks you are right, young one,” he said.

  “Shove off; Shove off!” Gondrial yelled. He spurred his horse, and with a whinnied roar, it leaped through the air and landed with hooves skating to a stop at the center of the deck.

  Gondrial dismounted and led his horse into the hold. Devyn turned his attention back to the dock where he saw several guardsmen searching to no avail. After a moment, Gondrial appeared on deck, hiding behind a mast not far from where Devyn stood watching the guard’s frantic search. “Did they see me board?” he asked.

  “I don’t think so; they seem to be checking the narrow alleyways and docks.”

  “Good,” he said, dusting his breeches off. “I was hoping to ride fast enough and far enough ahead to get past them.”

  “What is it, Gondrial? Why do you need to avoid the guard here?” Devyn asked.

  “It’s a long story, lad. One day I may tell it, but today is not that day.”

  “Are you in some kind of trouble?” Rennon asked.

  “Well, you could say that, but I prefer to think of it as...” he paused, “a disagreement.” He smiled a sarcastic grin. “I may let you two know someday, but today is not that day, and I grow tired of repeating myself.” He turned aft. “Suffice it to say I had a loose end to tie up.” He wiped his brow with the back of his hand.

  “He has fallen in with the queen and the king isn’t happy about it. That’s the entirety of his...secret.” Shey said. “There is nothing mysterious about it.” She went back to gazing over the side of the ship.

  Gondrial shrugged. “There you go.” He went back down below.

  Rain began to fall as the ship lumbered out to sea, forcing Devyn and Rennon to pull their cloaks tight around themselves. Vesperin met his friends on deck, as the vessel reached rougher waters. The three decided to go inside, after a while, to get in from the changing weather.

>   DEVYN ROUSED FROM A fitful, tenuous sleep to the sound of shouts and a ringing bell. Two days had passed since the Sea Hag had left the port of Symbor, and from the commotion on deck, they were nearing the port of Adrontear in southern Adracoria. The storm from two nights ago had blown them to their destination sooner than anticipated. Devyn quickly dressed himself and met Vesperin, Rennon, and Kelle on deck. None of them had ever been out of Symboria, and the chance to see a new port made the four giddy with excitement and anticipation.

  At first, Devyn could not make out the lighthouse of Adrontear, but as the ship drew nearer, he saw the immensity of it. On a rocky cliff, the lighthouse stood to let ships navigate the rocky enclosure to the port. It stood as a pure stone spire, stretching upward and outward. Its grey appearance gleamed in the morning sun, and its white cap reflected out to sea. The port itself was much different from the one in Symbor. Twice the number of ships lined its docks. Devyn counted more than two dozen different designs. The pier was painted a brilliant white instead of the dingy brown of Symbor, and the merchant houses were cleaner and painted with bright blues and greens.

  The Sea Hag docked near a merchant ship twice the size of the Tiger’s Head Inn and just as tall. “I never dreamed a port could be so...” Devyn began.

  “Beautiful,” Kelle finished.

  “And elegant. Look at the woodwork on the railing of the pier,” Vesperin said.

  “This is where we depart,” Lady Shey said. “Gondrial is taking care of our baggage, so we can go ahead and meet Ianthill.”

  “Where is Ianthill?” Kelle asked.

  Lady Shey looked around the docks for a moment and then pointed. “That’s him, right over there.”

  All four turned and squinted to see the ancient wielder.

  “You mean the man in the ragged hat?” Rennon asked.

  “Well, the correct term would be elf in the ragged hat, but yes. That is Ianthill.”

  Devyn could not make out the features of the elf at first, but as the dock master pointed Ianthill toward the Sea Hag and he approached, his features became more explicit. He wore crimson red robes and smoked a long pipe. His ragged brown, wide-brimmed hat sat on top of his white and blond-haired head. He walked with a dark red wooden staff with a large crimson crystal affixed to the top. He wore no facial hair, but as he came nearer, Devyn could see his hair was of some length.

  “Greetings, Lady Shey.” He took her hand and kissed it. “It has been far too long.”

  Lady Shey curtsied. “Well met, Keeper of the Isle. I trust you are well.”

  “Aye, I am as well as a young stag on a spring day, and what of you?”

  “I am well; thank you.”

  Ianthill looked at the ship, his blue eyes sparkling in the morning sun. “Where is that rebellious apprentice of mine?” he asked.

  “I am here, my master,” Gondrial said as he left the gangplank. “I see you still have poor eyesight even for an elf. I thought we were done with this ‘apprentice master’ nonsense.”

  “I could see a flea on a mutt too leagues past you, and you know it. As far as you being my equal that is yet to be seen.” He laughed. “Oh, Gondrial, my boy, it does me good to look upon you.” Ianthill embraced Gondrial.

  “And you, Master, don’t look a day over two thousand.”

  Ianthill patted Gondrial on the shoulder and then noticed the four companions staring at him. “Well, well, who do we have here? You are obviously a cleric of Loracia,” he said to Vesperin.

  “Aye, my lord,” Vesperin said bowing.

  “I am old, but I am not a lord, young cleric. Ianthill will suit me just fine.”

  “As you wish, Ianthill,” Vesperin said, bowing again.

  Ianthill held Kelle’s hand and kissed it. “And you, my lass?”

  “I am Kelle of Brookhaven.”

  “Splendid.” Ianthill moved to Rennon.

  “I am Rennon of Brookhaven, sir.”

  “Excellent,” Ianthill remarked. “A polite bunch,” he said to Gondrial.

  “And what is your name, lad?” he said to Devyn.

  “I am Devyn of Brookhaven.”

  “I see. Pleased to meet you Devyn of Brookhaven. I have heard much about you.”

  Devyn bowed.

  “Well, gather your things and follow me to my dwelling. We have work to do.” The elf clicked his crimson staff on the wooden dock and moved ahead without waiting for anyone else to follow.

  Gondrial had loaded the horse he brought as a beast of burden, and Devyn fell in beside Gondrial.

  “He wears robes, carries a staff, and looks the part of a wielder,” Devyn whispered.

  “Aye, what did you expect?” Gondrial answered.

  “Isn’t magic outlawed in Adracoria?’

  “Hmm,” Gondrial nodded. “I follow your logic. Ianthill is Keeper of the Isle and a member of the First Trine. The same isle where the most powerful and feared wielders were exiled after the War of the Oracle. He can come and go as he pleases; no Enforcer would dare try to stop him. I’m not sure they could stop him if they tried. After the first couple of centuries or so after the war, they no longer bothered to keep an eye on him.”

  “Centuries? I know elves live for long periods of time, but how old is he?”

  “Old.”

  “How old?”

  Gondrial rubbed his chin. “The last time Enowene and I tried to figure it out, he was about nine thousand years old, but recently we found an account of him helping King Fet A’ador arrange the marriage of his daughter to the King of Lux Amarou, which would put him closer to twelve thousand.”

  “Years,” Devyn said stunned.

  Gondrial laughed. “Aye, Ianthill is one of the original disciples to the gods, as are Morgoran and Toborne, hence the First Trine, or the wizards three as they are known in some places of the world. Do you not have an account of history in Brookhaven?”

  “We do, but I never studied it.”

  “Why not?”

  Devyn shrugged. “I can’t say. I suppose it didn’t interest me.”

  Gondrial breathed a heavy sigh. “That’s what’s wrong with the youth today. I suggest you read the histories. It will help you on your journeys.”

  Devyn nodded, and the two quickened their pace to catch up with the others.

  Ianthill led them through the city streets to a row of buildings overlooking the docks and ocean. The street was one of wealth and influence judging by its splendor and architecture. The building Ianthill stopped in front of had marble steps leading to an arched porch with stone spires. The whole of the building was painted a light brown with white trim at the windows and doors. A man dressed in a blue overcoat came and took the horse.

  “Find out what belongings belong with whom and have everything cleaned and polished and brought to their rooms, Kerick.”

  “At once, Master Ianthill,” the man in blue said.

  “Gondrial, bring the boys to my study as soon as Mavis shows them their rooms.”

  “Aye, Master,” Gondrial replied.

  Ianthill disappeared into the house as a large woman dressed in servants clothing halted them at the doorway.

  “You still remember where your room is, Master Gondrial, I presume. Or has your brain been so pickled by ale you cannot remember?”

  “Mistress Mavis, so good to see you. I assume you have fully stocked the cellar with my favorites.”

  The round-faced woman’s stern look turned to one of jovial bliss. “And I will be helping you drink it.” The two embraced in a hug.

  “Let me show the young masters to their rooms, and you can take them to the study. Master Ianthill has been up near a week pouring over text in anticipation of this meeting.” Mavis turned to look at Kelle. “And I suppose you would like a nice hot bath with sweet soaps and a dash of perfume.”

  Kelle’s face lit up. “Oh, very much so, mistress. I have not had a proper bath since Cedar Falls.”

  “Come along then,” Mavis directed. She stopped beside Devyn. “Don’t w
orry; you filthy boys will be next!” After Mavis showed them to their rooms, Gondrial took the boys down the hall to Ianthill’s study while Mavis took Kelle to the baths.

  At the end of the hall stood wooden double doors carved with mosaics of ships and sea monsters. This end of the hall was somewhat dark, but as soon as Gondrial opened the doors, rich, natural light poured into the hall from the study. Ianthill’s study dwarfed the common room of the Tiger’s Head Inn in comparison. Bookshelves lined either side with a large desk centered under towering, glass windows. Two large divans were positioned at an angle in front of the desk, and a long table with eight chairs stood between the divans and the double doors.

  “Welcome to Adrontear,” Ianthill said. “Come and have a seat while we wait for Lady Shey and Enowene.”

  Devyn, Vesperin, and Rennon walked to the divans and made themselves comfortable while Gondrial headed for a small table near the window and began packing a pipe.

  “Good idea, Gondrial,” Ianthill said. “Pack me one as well, will you?”

  The doors opened again, and Lady Shey entered carrying the tome she and Gondrial had taken from Symbor. “Sorry I’m late.” Enowene followed in behind her.

  “Not at all, Shey, you are right on time. The boys have just arrived.”

  Devyn felt the same strange feeling he had experienced in Signal Hill for a moment as if the events he was witnessing were somehow wrong. He felt uneasy and squirmed briefly in his seat until he realized Rennon was watching him inquisitively. Devyn shook his head to let Rennon know it was nothing of his concern.

  Lady Shey took the book and put it on Ianthill’s desk before she sat down on an empty divan.

  Ianthill opened the tome and poured over its pages and then slammed it shut with dissatisfaction. “Useless, I am afraid, my lady,” he said. “Naneden has placed this tome as a decoy. He has the original already in his possession.”

  “But the spells within worked, Master Ianthill. I used them,” Lady Shey said.

  Ianthill opened the tome again. “Oh, yes, work they do, but they are of limited usefulness, Naneden has seen to that. This book is little more than a novelty. The real spell is hundreds of times more powerful than this one.” He slammed it shut again. “Placed to throw us off the trail of the real tome for months. We have to step up our plans a bit.”