Crowndan knocked Zarah’s sword from her hands. She turned and ran along the ruins, their angle too steep for her to make a direct line towards me and the colossi and the elves. The snow hindered her flight more than it hindered Crowndan, who seemed not to sink into it. He would catch up to her before any of us would be in range to aid her.
Crowndan grabbed her, and they toppled backwards into the ruins, and out of view.
I ran towards the easiest path I could find up to the top of the ruins. I fell to me knees at the steepness of it, and grasped at any handhold I could find. I pulled myself to top, ready for an attack.
But Crowndan was gone. And so was Zarah.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
There was blood.
I skidded down the other side of the ruins, but a pack of fouling blocked my path. It took too long to cut them down, and when the blood magic had finally fled from their bodies and I could continue my pursuit, I could no longer find their tracks. Crowndan may not have been able to control the old magic well, but he could hide his path.
Zarah.
I resisted the urge to scream, and turned back to the beach.
With Crowndan retreating, the magic started to fade from the dreadwolves and fouling and dead elves. The elves and Father spread about now as the enemy’s ranks thinned, and made swift, efficient work of severing necks.
Aerik knelt, leaning upon his sword. My heart clenched as I ran to him.
“Are you injured?”
He waved me away. “I have not the strength I used to. Not after the days we have had.”
“Where did you run to?” Father demanded as we regrouped.
“I saw Adhannor’s assistant,” I replied. “It was Crowndan. I’m sorry, Father. But now he has Zarah.”
Aerik cursed. Father looked shocked.
“How did she get so separated from the group?”
“She thought she saw you in the city,” Nogoriel explained. “She thought you were injured. She and Aerik charged off the boat before we could stop them.”
“She must have seen a trick of Adhannor’s,” Aerik said. “I fell behind, and could not keep up with her.”
“It’s not your fault,” I murmured, and spotted blood on Dalandaras’ white hair and skin. “Are you injured?”
“Only my pride,” he replied. “Do we have a plan?”
“Not yet,” I said.
“The colossi fought for us,” Nogoriel observed. “Not against us.”
“I summoned them. They will no longer serve Crowndan or Adhannor.”
“We should return to Tal Uil,” Lorias said. “Even with the Colossi on our side, Adhannor has grown very strong.”
“Will Zarah have that sort of time?” Aerik asked.
“We go to Tal Aesiri,” I said. “Now.”
“Do you hope to arrive before Crowndan?” Firien asked. “He is only hoping that you will pursue him prematurely.”
“I hope to amass an army before Adhannor does,” I replied. “And I’ll have precious little time to do it if he is waiting for my arrival.”
“The that is what we will do,” Dalandaras said firmly.
I managed a smile for him, and turned to our ship. I was first to board, and waited with impatience as the elves readied the ship. My agitation had the affect that my lady guardian was summoned to my side once again. Everyone eyed her warily, Father and Aerik especially. I moved to the prow and my guardian followed. I found comfort in her silent presence.
The ship was too slow for my liking, and though the elves nearly shouted their words and touched their runes and tugged at the ropes, there was little more they could do to increase the speed. The sun sank into night, and Firien divided his crew into shifts; even elves needed rest, and I could feel the old magic waning in them. It waned in me, too. Even power needed time to rest. Aerik spoke in low murmurs with Firien until the call of sleep was too strong for him,and then he made himself a bed beside the captain’s, and drifted. Father, after waiting silently by my side, left, had words with Dalandaras, and settled himself down.
Dalandaras approached me. “You should sleep.”
“I cannot,” I replied.
“You will not help Zarah if you strain your powers. Release your guardian.”
Reluctantly I did so, and my warrior faded from view.
“Now you should try to get some rest.”
“I’ll rest here,” I said firmly.
He didn’t argue, and remained at my side. The green aurora danced in the night sky again, until clouds swept in on strong winds and blocked out their lights. The trees grew scarcer and sparser both, until there was barely any kind of life in the darkness. Occasionally, distantly, there would be the cry of a fouling or the howl of a dreadwolf.
As the sky grew lighter and the clouds did not relent, the river grew too narrow for us to continue by boat. We disembarked silently and left anything that wasn’t weapons behind - food, rucksacks, bedrolls. And then we walked. Firien tried to lead, but I could feel the pull of old magic. We walked up into the mountains. The stones were different here. They weren’t the common gray rocks found by the Fort, but black. They folded around each other like a blanket rumpled on a bed, but this was deceptive. For as we slipped on the snow and landed on the rocks they would shatter, and threatened to cast us down the steep slope. And as even my breath grew ragged at the effort, the mountain suddenly ended. It was as if the mountains had simply been sliced away. We pulled ourselves over the edge, and paused to catch our breath and rest our aching feet.
The flat top stretched for miles in each direction, disappearing into the clouds and mist. The trees were few and dead and frozen, their branches cracked stiff and creaking.
The flatness was deceptive; beneath the snow was a maze of sharp rocks and sudden drops. Aerik was first to sink waist-deep into the snow, and I soon followed. Even the elves were not immune; Lorandal and Malarin especially found themselves at the mercy of the ice.
We came to a cliff, and were careful as we neared the edge for fear that the snow would break away and send us careening down the steep slope. Before us was a great depression in the land, dotted with small pockets and craters. The snow grew spotty in the center, and revealed black, shiny rocks and dark glistening quartz which seemed to radiate in bands from a rift in the center of the depression, as if they were scorch marks. It was Singael’s ideal world.
Beneath the depression I could feel the crackle and hum of old magic power. It felt as if a roiling sea was contained underneath, and was pushing up against the ground. The rift pulled at me, as if some invisible chain connected me to it. A cold stone weight settled in my stomach. This would be our fight, Adhannor and I. Whoever could win possession of the rift and the magic within, would win the war.
“I do not like this place,” Malarin said, murmuring what sounded like a prayer under his breath. “The dead would have stories to tell of Tal Aesiri.”
“We do not come here,” Firien explained. “It is forbidden, and folly besides. We can never stay here long, for it unsettles our souls. That we have made it this deep into Tal Aesiri without trouble is extraordinary. It must be due to the power of the inheritor.”
“You have never been here, then?” Father asked.
“Never this far.”
“The dead would have stories to tell...” I repeated. Yes, they would. Like the dead that had aided Crowndan.
I knelt, and dug my hand into the snow, searching for solid ground. I found it, and was shocked by the frisson of agony that met me.
Tal Aesiri was more than a seat of old power. There had been a battle here. A terrible battle. And all those who had fallen were still here. This was a grave. A grave of thousands, a grave to bodies and souls alike. It was no wonder Adhannor wished to retreat here. He would no longer have to rely on the waxing and waning of his own power with these at his back.
But many of the souls had not gone with him. They lingered in their graves, trapped and writhing. They would not go with Adhannor, but they could
not leave the mountain either.
I retreated from the cliff’s edge, and came up with a plan. “Form a circle,” I said.
“What?” Dalandaras asked.
“Trust me.”
Slowly, they followed me away from the cliff’s edge and did as I bid.
“Join hands, and step back as far as you can.”
They did; when they were done, they formed as perfect of a circle as we would be able to manage. And it was about the same size as the one where I had spoken to the colossi.
“Give me your sword,” I ordered Dalandaras as I drew my own. With one sword in each hand, I drew into the snow. I used everyone as a guide, keeping them on the outside as I formed the double circles as I had seen them in Adhannor’’s prison, that would focus the old magic and summon my army. I did not know how even the elves’ magic would react to what I was going to do. I did not know how I would react to what I was going to do. I was only praying that it would work.
“You are drawing in the old magic,” Firien murmured.
“What are you planning to do?” Father asked.
I handed Dalandaras back his sword. “I really don’t know,” I replied honestly. I walked into the center of the circle and drew the symbol that Crowndan had drawn in the blood of the dead merchant men.
“I am Evalandriel,” I said in the old tongue. “I am the inheritor. And I command you forth. Show yourselves to me.”
They did, half a dozen appearing in my circle. These were ghosts of elves, but I could feel stirring beneath the ground. There were bodies that could fight Adhannor, too. If I could get them on my side.
The ones that were before me, however, did not look pleased to be here.
“You dare summon us forth once more?” a woman demanded.
“I am not Adhannor,” I replied. “I have never summoned you forth until now.”
The woman seemed to sniff. “You come in the company of the colossi.”
“I do,” I replied.
“And yet you are not Lady Adhanel.”
“I am her heir.”
The woman sniffed again. “You are human.”
“That, too.”
“We are not corrupted. We are the abhorred. You cannot corrupt us.”
“The abhorred?” Aerik murmured, looking to Firien. But even the elf frowned back in puzzlement.
I shook my head as the lady glared at Aerik. “I have no wish to corrupt you.”
“Adhannor thought he could,” she replied
“I am not Adhannor,” I replied. “But I do need your help. Adhannor wants the old magic that resides within this place.”
“He always has,” the woman said. “As did Adhanel. We fought and died for their desire for the old magic, and now we are trapped here, for their desire.”
“And I must stop him.”
“And take the old magic for yourself.”
“I don’t want the old magic.”
“Adhanel meant it when she said it, but that did not mean she did not break her word. And your little...army...you have here may desire it themselves.”
“Two of us are human,” Father said.
“And the rest of us have not the strength to channel such strong magic,” Firien added. “We are not inheritors.”
Another ghost, a man, pointed an accusing finger at me. “But you are.”
“A reluctant one,” I replied. “And if I can cast off the mantle of inheritor, I will. Once I deal with Adhannor.”
“Who would want to cast it off!” a second man said.
“I do!” I nearly shouted. “Power gives me nothing. This is not my home, and I wish to go home. Power will not get me there any faster. Only defeating Adhannor will.”
“Will you free us.” the woman who first spoke asked.
“Can you be freed?” I replied.
“The one who controls the old magic of this place has the power to free us.”
“And Adhannor will not,” I guessed. “Even though you will not fight for him.”
She inclined her head.
“By the word of the Lady,” I said. “And by the word of myself. If you help us defeat Adhannor, I will release you from your bondage.”
The remained silent, and yet I felt the stirring of trapped ones underneath my feet.
“If Adhannor is not defeated, you have no hope of release.”
The stirring reached a fever pitch, and I felt more than heard the hum of debate that circled between the abhorred. And then the humming stopped, and they came to a consensus.
“For our freedom,” the first woman said. “The abhorred are with you. And if you break your word…” she looked to Aerik. “You will find why we are called the abhorred.”
And then they were gone, and I was left with my companions, alone in the snow.
“What just happened?” Dalandaras asked. “Who are they?”
All of the Dagnar elves seemed at a loss for words.
“As Singael said,” I replied. “Adhannor and his companions were not the only ones who sought power and lost.”
“The colossi, the abhorred…” Dalandaras shook his head. “I do not like trifling with beings we know nothing about.
Nor did I. “I’ve gotten us an army,” I replied. “I only hope it is enough.”
“If it is not,” my father said. “I doubt anything will be.”
“When will he come?” Lorandal asked.
The wind blew in, whipping up snow flurries. The dead trees moaned as they bent. The sky grew dark with storm clouds, turning day into near-night. And I felt it then, the taint that I had become so familiar with. It hovered at the edge of my mind, waiting for me.
“Do you need more of a sign than that?” Dalandaras murmured.
“He still cannot stand the light,” I said.
“That is a good sign,” Aerik said.
I hoped. “Prepare torches,” I murmured. “And pray that it stays dry.”
“We will take care of the weather,” Nogoriel said. And I heard the low-throated chanting of the old tongue come from her and another.
Though the sky did not clear, it stopped growing dark. I felt Adhannor’s rumble of irritation, but the darkness was enough for him. I saw him then, on the other side of the depression. He was more solid now, less a ghost and more the noble elf he once was. He wore his crown. I felt the weight of Adhanel’s, even though I had left it down in her tomb.
Crowndan stood behind his master. And he had Zarah. She was not bound and looked unharmed.
“Where is his army?” Firien asked as he lit his torch.
“They will come,” I said. “Are you ready?”
“We are ready,” Firien confirmed. “Are you ready, Inheritor?”
“Adhannor is mine,” I said. “Do not try to fight him.”
Dalandaras handed me a torch. The white flame was a comfort.
“Bows,” I said. “Father, I need you on your rifle.”
“Do you expect me to not be by your side going into battle?” My father demanded.
“I need your skills as a shooter first,” I replied. “The colossi and the abhorred are not infinite sources of strength. I need you to help clear the way as best as you can.”
“So you can get to Adhannor?”
“No one else can fight that battle but me, Father.”
He nodded. “I know.”
With one more breath, I called for my army. It took no summoning now, not with their allegiance. I called, and they came. The colossi and the abhorred. On the edge of the steep slope, I suddenly had an army at my back. My guardian appeared as well, forming easily at my side.
“Lady,” they seemed to say as one.
If anyone was disturbed by the sudden appearance of hundreds, they did not show it.
“Do not harm Zarah,” I said. “Destroy all else.”
And then my army was moving down the steep slope. At once, Adhannor’s army seemed to emerge from between the dead trees. Corrupted foulings, dreadwolves, the dead that chose to fight for him and a
gainst their comrades.
“Down the foulings and dreadwolves,” I told the elves and my father. “Let the undead fight the undead.”
The elves raised their bows, and Father lined up his sights.
And then, with my guardian at my side, I stepped down the slope.
In the center of the depression, abhorred met abhorred. Colossi swung their great arms against the foulings and dreadwolves. Arrows flew over my head, and father’s rifle popped.
A foulings made it through the clashing armies, and charged for me. With flame and steel I lashed out at him. The blade cut down to bone while the fire seared his gaping mouth. It screamed a high-pitched scream in pain. With a whispered “thaeglir” I lit him. It thrashed and rolled into the snow, trying to put out the flames. I raised my sword and brought it down hard into its neck. With a final whimper it went limp.
My guardian ran past me and towards a dreadwolf that had followed its fouling companion through the battle. An enemy abhorred, half corpse and half ghost, raised its rusted sword and ran towards me. It jerked back before I heard the corresponding pop, and I saw a bullet hole below its cheekbone. It only slowed it, but as I raised my blade an elf’s arrow flew by, and finished the job. It was one of Dalandaras’ white-feathered arrows.
The rifle’s popping ceased, and I knew that my father would be coming down for me.
But I would end Adhannor before I ever allowed my father to be killed in this battle.
With my guardian and the lady abhorred by my side I cut through the heart of the fighting.
A colossus was attacked by three abhorred. We rushed to its aid, but as we cut and burned the enemies, the colossus lost its form, and the old magic faded from its bindings. It disappeared into nothing but snow and stone. I felt the loss in my heart, as if a child of mine had been cut down.
When taint clashed with purity, nothing was immune to destruction.
But then I reached the center of the battle, and the edge of the deep crevice. There was no Adhannor there, but instead there was Crowndan. He held Zarah by her hair, her head arched back and her neck exposed. Crowndan—my father’s trusted man—held a knife to her throat. There was already a line of blood welling.
The elves’ arrows would not be able to fly this far.
Winter's Crown Page 20
