Eliesmore and the Green Stone

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Eliesmore and the Green Stone Page 36

by Angela J. Ford


  “Move.”

  “Hurry.”

  A rift split across the path, cutting Idrithar and Arldrine off from the company. Zhane pushed Eliesmore and Optimistic ahead as he turned back to help them.

  Visra spread her wings to lift off. A frown covered her face as her broken wing collapsed limply against her back. More cracks appeared under their feet. The gap separating Arldrine and Idrithar was widening.

  “Go!” Idrithar called. “Don’t wait.”

  "Come on," Zhane beckoned, encouraging them to leap across.

  Arldrine took a running start, jumping across the break in the path as a second roar split the air. This time they all heard the beating of wings as a creature rose toward them.

  Eliesmore ran, looking back to see if his companions were coming. He caught a glimpse of the beast as it wheeled above them. A tail swung through the air, bursting a cluster of silver stalactites. They crashed toward the path above Idrithar.

  “Idrithar,” Wekin screamed. “Watch out.”

  Idrithar leaped as the stalactites disintegrated into crystal and fell. The path groaned as it opened wider like a yawning mouth.

  Eliesmore froze, watching the crystals.

  Idrithar landed on both feet as another roar ripped through the mountain. A mushroom of fire went up, clouding the air with smoke. A winged beast twirled through the smoke. Its great claws reached out as it snatched at Idrithar. Eliesmore could see the defeat on Idrithar’s face. “Go. Don’t look for me.”

  The crystals shattered across the path, the road split, and the dranagin roared. It seemed to Eliesmore that Idrithar folded his arms across his chest and leaped into the gap in the road as the dranagin flew above him.

  A numbness consumed Eliesmore as he stared. Faintly he heard a terrible screaming echo and reecho through the mountain of fire.

  “No, no, no!” Wekin shrieked. “Idrithar! Come back!”

  Zhane grabbed Arldrine. “We must go on. Run.” His words came out weak, and his face was pale.

  Eliesmore sank down on the path. He felt Optimistic grab his shoulder, pulling him back up. “We mustn’t stop,” Optimistic told him in a broken voice.

  “Run,” Zhane whispered. Everyone was frozen and stunned, staring down at the place where Idrithar had fallen. “Líhíthír,” Zhane commanded in Iaen.

  Dathiem took the lead as they stumbled forward, gaining speed as grief swept through them. Eliesmore’s ribs were sore as he ran, feeling as if a beast had sat on his heart. After all they had been through and after all the dangers, Idrithar was gone. Gone. The word burned his brain like hot tongs of fire. The horrible nightmare played and replayed in his mind. The path split open. The crystals fell. The dranagin dived. Idrithar fell.

  He wished it were a vision as the Green Company ran out of the mountain into the dampness of the night. They moved onward beneath the stars. They continued as fire lit up the mountains. The ground continued to vibrate under their feet, and Eliesmore let his thoughts fade.

  Much later, he heard Dathiem say, “We have to stop soon, Zhane; everyone is too tired to go on.”

  Zhane hung his head, taking deep shuddering breaths. “You’re right. We have traveled all night.”

  Eliesmore threw himself down on a soft patch of grass. When he woke, his companions were still sleeping. Glashar kept watch. Her large eyes were concerned as she glanced at him, giving him the briefest nod of acknowledgment.

  Eliesmore ate some dried meat as he climbed to a high ledge to observe his surroundings. He felt a lump in his throat as he surveyed the blue sky. It seemed much closer than usual, almost as if he could reach out and touch it. To the west, a group of dark clouds covered the sky; beyond them, white peaks glistened in daylight. These were sights Idrithar would never see again. Again, the nightmare rose before his eyes. The path split open. The crystals fell. The dranagin dived.

  Eliesmore crossed his arms, shivering in the face of despair as he kept watch. His companions woke and ate at intervals before passing out again, yet the temptation of more sleep did not sway him. As the day was drawing to a close, Eliesmore heard a distant sound coming from the mountain of fire. Howls echoed through the foothills, arousing a strong determination within him. He clenched his fists. Not this time. “Wothemoc,” he called.

  Zhane shook himself awake; his eyes were red, and his face was drawn. He stroked his chin before bowing his head in remembrance.

  “The Rakhai are out there. It sounds like they are traveling in the mountains of fire,” Eliesmore informed Zhane.

  Zhane nodded, running his fingers through his hair. “We should go then.”

  Arldrine limped up to him; she’d lost her crutch somewhere in the tussle. Standing tall, she made a fist and placed it on her breast. “Not without a moment of silence for Idrithar.”

  “Aye.” Zhane nodded his head.

  Eliesmore climbed down from the ledge as the ten members of the Green Company came together in a circle. Eliesmore put his hand on his heart and bowed his head. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Yamier and Wekin brushing away tears. Optimistic's face was a mixture of shock and disbelief. A deep sorrow consumed them as they stood in silence, accepting with bitter regret the loss of their leader, one of the Wise Ones, Idrithar the Cron.

  Dathiem was the first to open his eyes and raise his head. He began to sing a mournful lament. Optimistic joined him. Their sonorous voices carried the somber tune through the air. Eliesmore felt the lament deep in his heart. He opened his mouth. He knew which words his tongue should sing next. He reached out a hand, placing it on Optimistic’s shoulder. He placed the other on Zhane’s shoulder. Optimistic copied his movements until they stood as one with their voices and arms entwined as they mourned the loss of a fellow White Steed.

  As they sang, Eliesmore saw the stars in the sky go out one by one like a candle losing its flame. A dark cloud covered the heavens, and a strong wind began to blow. When the last note died away, all that was left was a cloud of darkness, and the Green Company felt their hearts heavy with sadness. Across the misty mountains, dark and cold, snow began to fall, thick and fast.

  69

  Dathiem

  Dathiem stood on a mountain slope, shivering in the cold as he kept watch. He wished for a draught of wine to keep him warm. Since the loss of Idrithar, they’d traveled for days into the cold and snow. They had been lucky to find a grove of trees to rest in. It kept out the driving wind. Dathiem rubbed his hands, blew on them, and tucked them into his cloak as he watched the white world dance around him. The snow would only get worse the farther they went.

  He felt a presence behind him. Thinking it was Glashar, he turned to find Arldrine. She limped to a fallen log outside of the camp and perched on it, letting the snowflakes settle on her hands and feet.

  Dathiem took in her appearance. Like the rest, she was thin, weary from travel, and he could see the telltale signs of pain behind her eyes. He moved to join her. “Winds are strong,” he remarked. “More snow is coming.”

  Arldrine nodded and pulled her cloak tighter around herself. “I’m not sure what to do anymore.”

  A cold shadow passed over Dathiem at her words. “What do you mean?”

  “Dathiem,” Arldrine began again. “You are one of Zhane’s closest friends. He is our leader now, and I don’t know how to tell him.” Her voice broke off, and she turned to stare at the effects of the wind.

  “Ah,” Dathiem replied; he understood what she was trying to say. “Give me your foot.”

  Arldrine sighed, lifting her leg onto his lap. “Dathiem, I can’t walk much longer. I can’t go on. I need to stop here in the mountains and get better. The company has to go on without me. I’m slowing us down, but how can I tell Zhane?”

  Dathiem took his time answering as he re-bandaged Arldrine’s foot. “You’re right; you shouldn’t be walking on it. You will have a permanent limp if you don’t stop.”

  Arldrine bit her lip. “I don’t want to leave.”

  “I can’t d
o more for you; my healing supplies are exhausted. I’m sorry,” Dathiem said. “You need to talk to him. Tell Zhane.”

  “How? How?” Arldrine whispered to the wind.

  Silence.

  “Dathiem.” Arldrine clasped her hands in her lap. “How do you do it with Glashar?”

  “Do what?” Dathiem furrowed his brows, not comprehending the question.

  “Love her and stay focused on the quest?” Arldrine asked in a rush, wisps of cold air wafting from her mouth.

  A small smile came to Dathiem’s lips. “How do you breathe and walk? It’s simple. You think too much and too hard. Let your worries go. Let it be.”

  Arldrine folded her fingers into fists. Her face took on a look of misery. She dropped her eyes. “I can’t. I don’t know how.”

  Dathiem said nothing. He sat beside her and stared out into the white world. He wondered how devastated Zhane would feel when Arldrine told him. He found his eyes straying toward Glashar, who wasn’t sleeping but listening instead. Always listening. She couldn’t use her shoulder. The power of the Iaens was fading in the west.

  70

  Eliesmore

  From that day onward, things gradually grew worse for the company as they traveled deeper into the snowy mountains. August deepened into September, and the days went by, one the same as the other. Eliesmore watched the twinkling stars go out, one by one, just like a candle, as a dark cloud covered them. Winds blew strong and cold across the barren land. It was mixed with a dizzying blur of snowflakes.

  They lost the Rakhai, and howls no longer echoed through the mountains. The company had a rough time going through what seemed like a wall of snow. The three Iaens and Arldrine could walk above it while the others had to waddle their way through it. Often, they spent nights in a grove of trees sheltered from the wind. If they didn’t find shelter, they would press on, never taking the risk of freezing to death in the snow. But then the trees started growing farther and farther apart, and seldom did a night pass in which they would not have to walk further in order to find protection. Eliesmore longed for a hot, dry desert; he was tired of being cold and wet.

  One day, Glashar announced she saw woísts in the distance. They still had not healed from the attack of the Rakhai; Dathiem had said they weren’t resting enough and were traveling too much. He had run out of medicinal plants and could do nothing more. The cold and wet snow only made the healing process slower.

  As Eliesmore pushed through the snow that day, he thought if they ever did get out, it wouldn’t be without a fight with the woísts while being half frozen. He wondered how the woísts had caught up with them and if the Rakhai had sent them. Eliesmore sighed. They were hungry, cold, wounded, and altogether miserable. Wekin and Yamier were the only ones who carried packs, which were only half full of frozen food. Eliesmore didn’t know what would sustain them when it was gone.

  Suddenly, a strong wind whipped up, blowing snow into their faces. Eliesmore put his head down, trying to keep the hard snow from hitting him. He heard Zhane shouting above the roar of the wind: “Single file! Follow me! Be careful to keep up!”

  Zhane pushed his way ahead, breaking a path for the others. Optimistic, Eliesmore, Wekin, Yamier, and Dathiem followed closely behind. Last came Arldrine, Ellagine, Visra, and Glashar. Soon the strong wind threatened to blow the company over. Eliesmore struggled in the wind. If it hadn’t been for the wall of snow, three feet tall on either side of them, he could not have kept his balance. His movements rolled into a blur as he kept putting one cold foot in front of the other. Time was as tedious as a relentless sun on a hot day. Suddenly he heard a cry; someone was shouting something in Iaen. It was one of the Idrains.

  Eliesmore jerked. His hand fumbled for his sword hilt. Were the woísts catching up? He tried to look, but all he could see was a world of white. His companions were gone. He took a deep breath, stopping the panic. “Zhane!” he called. And then he called, “Optimistic! Yamier! Wekin!” The wind threw his words back in his mouth almost before he could get them out.

  Again, Eliesmore heard a shout from behind: “I see it! I see it! Zhane, look up ahead!”

  What could be seen in the blinding wind? Eliesmore knew not, but he was grateful to find his companions still surrounded him, although they were unseen. He struggled to look ahead, tugging his cloak further over his head. His eyelids were frosted, and his body was numb with cold. Even so, he thought he saw a light. He blinked. It disappeared. He squinted as the wind lessened. After a few more feet, the snow ceased. His speed increased as he moved forward and the wind stopped altogether.

  Eliesmore looked ahead and forgot about Zhane and Optimistic in front of him. What he saw made him blink, draw a cold breath, and stare again. He saw a tree. It was about seven feet tall with thick branches stretched out like welcoming hands. Instead of leaves, it was loaded with golden brown fruit that shimmered against the white light of the snow. Out from the great tree shone the golden-brown light, and ten feet away from the tree, on all sides, there was green grass and warmth. Eliesmore could not tear his eyes away from it. Zhane, catching sight of the tree, ran, threw himself on his knees, and cast off the hood to his cloak. He kneeled there with his eyes closed and his head turned upward, bathing in the light.

  As the others caught up, Zhane opened his eyes and stood, beckoning them to come inside the circle of the tree and enjoy the warmth. Eliesmore and the others drew near, feeling the heat radiating out from the tree. Eliesmore took off his hood and stepped into the circle; instantly warmth like the summer sun engulfed him.

  “Come,” said Zhane, “we are at the tree before the very last miles. Come and eat and be warm before we go on.”

  Eliesmore picked a pear from the tree, feeling as if the light from the tree was radiating in him and thawing him from the constant chill. Bringing the pear to his mouth, he took a bite. Sweet nectar exploded in his mouth; some of it dripped down his chin as beauty, light, and warmth consumed him. When he finished it, he took another bite and another bite until he was forced out of his reprieve by Ellagine talking to Zhane.

  “Arldrine cannot walk on her foot anymore,” she said with her eyes downcast. “There is nothing I can do for her.”

  71

  Arldrine

  “Zhane,” Arldrine croaked out. Her lips were chapped, and her mouth was dry from the cold.

  He knelt by her side, reaching out to tuck her hood more securely around her face. “Please,” he whispered, “don’t look at me like that.”

  She shook her head, unable to stop her lips from quivering. “I can’t go on. I have to stay here.”

  He reached out his hands and gripped her arms as if he could heal her. His eyes grew wide in concern, and she could see him struggle to stay calm. “What will we do without you?” His voice broke, and he bent his head, looking away. When it was safe to go on, he continued. “Arldrine, we need you.”

  “I will only slow down the company. My foot is lame; I can’t run. You know me staying here gives Eliesmore his best chance.” She dropped a hand to his shoulder and squeezed it as if she could persuade him with a touch.

  Zhane, hearing the truth in her words, moved forward. He sat down beside her and pulled her into his lap, holding her tight while he buried his face in her shoulder. She stroked his head before wrapping her arms around him, returning the embrace. She allowed his warmth to envelop her like the fog on the mountains. This was a moment she would treasure, and she felt her iron will almost give in to the temptation as he held her.

  At last, he pulled back and sat up. “The woísts…”

  “Will the woísts come this way?” Arldrine inquired. “No, I think they are going a different way.”

  “But, Arldrine, what if they do come? You cannot fight them alone,” Zhane worried.

  “Nehíthermal.” Arldrine paused, turning away from his searching eyes. “Zhane, you are right, but I will delay you.”

  “Better to delay us than to be captured by woísts.” Zhane sank down once again,
as if too weary to go on.

  Arldrine nudged him, still unable to look him in the eye. “Go. I will come if it will help the company. Just get everyone away from here. We have to keep moving.”

  “We should go,” Glashar called from where she stood next to Dathiem. “We should go now.”

  Arldrine stood up, balancing carefully on her lame leg. “Go ahead,” she encouraged Zhane. “I’ll be slow.”

  “Okay…” He reluctantly let go of her as if he didn’t believe her.

  Arldrine watched as the Green Company picked up their bags, hesitant to step into the brutal cold. She could already feel the tears in the back of her eyes; tears she refused to let fall. Instead, she slung her bow on her back, and as the snow hid her companions, she turned back to the tree and began to climb it. Dogged determination was all that was left as she swung from branch to branch. She could hear a long rank of deadly creatures marching through the ice and snow. Wedging herself on a tree branch, she took her bow, nocked an arrow in it, and waited.

  72

  Zhane

  Zhane felt a deep sense of foreboding as he led the Green Company back out into the cold. A blast of icy air slapped his face. Tugging his cloak over his eyes, he shielded his face. He glanced back to count the heads that followed him into the swirling white world. He was sure there were ten. He was certain Arldrine was there. If she could hold on a little longer, they would reach the Green World, where snow and ice could not drag them to a frozen death.

  He led them through snowdrifts as the wind howled like a monster trapped in a cage. He noted, with relief, that the drifts began to fade, and he stomped onward relentlessly. Taking one cold breath after the other, he waited and tested the air for the rich scent of fresh mud and rain to ensure he was on the right track. Sadness punched his chest as he was reminded of the times he and Idrithar, and sometimes Dathiem, had marched through the mountains. They were lost and unsure when they would be able to rest again. The first time he’d come upon the tree, it was a welcome surprise. They had been at their wits’ end. They were near frozen, out of food, and unaware of the respite the mountains brought. Zhane was sure there were other places like it, pockets of hope and healing in the mountains. He craned his head back, hoping to catch sight of Arldrine. It was too dark.

 

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