“Doubtful,” said Telsa. “We wizard scouts activate and deactivate our battle suits using the controls built into our suits. I’ve made an active scan on the box, and I can’t detect any kind of controls that I’m familiar with. If Raj and Danny are correct in saying the box’s material comes from a battle suit—”
“What do you mean if we are correct?” said Danny. “Between Raj and me, we have run ten thousand, five hundred, and seventy-two analysis computations on the material in the time you took to—”
“Fine,” Telsa said. “It’s from a battle suit. That means whoever made the box must’ve had the means to activate and deactivate a battle suit.”
“Do we know who made the box?” Jeena asked.
Telsa glanced at the small container for a second before looking at Jeena. “No idea. The end result is that the box was created by someone who could activate the material of a battle suit. It’s in activated mode now. If it can be activated, then it can be deactivated.”
“Correct,” said Danny. “I calculate since it is addressed to Jeena, the box’s creator assumed the material could be deactivated by you. All you’ve got to do is figure out the control mechanism. By the way, there’s no pressure, but you only have eighteen minutes until your meeting with Rick and the others. Just FYI.”
Jeena drew Power from her reserve and cast a single word scan spell on the box. She detected nothing, almost as if the box wasn’t there.
Apparently sensing Jeena’s failed attempt to scan the box, Telsa grinned. “Battle suits are made to be hard to detect. There’s a trick to it. I’ll show you one of these days if you like.”
Knowing she had little time remaining, Jeena lost control of her temper for the barest second. “I cannot work with these distractions,” she snapped, then immediately regretted her words. Telsa had been nothing but kind to her during their time together, and the small female was also her bondmate’s friend. “I am sorry. What I mean is, perhaps if I were left alone for a few minutes I could pray to the Lady and seek guidance.”
Telsa grinned, her eternal cheerfulness seemingly unaffected by Jeena’s momentary loss of temper. “No problem. To be honest, I’ve been stuck down in this gloomy place for hours. A little light will do me good.”
“Perhaps it would do us all good,” said the chief librarian. He looked at Jeena and gave an encouraging smile. “The box is addressed to you. I have confidence you can figure it out. We will wait for you on the main floor of the library.”
With that, the others left Jeena to solve the mystery of the box. She sat it down on the work table and took a seat. Concentrating on the box, she prayed in her mind. “Lady, please help me. I need to know how to open the box. You said the clues were here. The box has to be one of them, but it does me no good if I cannot open it. Please help me.”
No words came from the Lady.
Frustrated, Jeena slapped the top of the box with her left hand. An electrical shock centered on her left index finger ran up her arm. She glanced at her hand. The red gem in her ring was glowing. She touched the gem to the box. The gem glowed a bright red, but the box didn’t open. Picking the box up, she turned it over and over looking for any hint of a hinge or opening. The only deviations in the smooth blackness of the metal were the three lines of words and the smallest of indentations under the last line of the writing.
On a hunch, Jeena sat the box on the table and touched the indentation with the red gem of her ring. Warmth flowed up her arm. The box opened. A small crystal was inside.
A message crystal, Jeena thought.
“I calculate you are correct,” said Danny. “Perhaps if you pick it up. We only have ten minutes until your meeting.”
With more than a little hesitancy, Jeena picked up the box and turned it over. The message crystal fell into the palm of her hand.
The air on the other side of the table shimmered and the image of a tall female elf with waist-length silver hair appeared. The elf’s silver eyes reflected the light from the room’s glow stones. The silver-eyed female held a staff in her right hand.
Jeena glanced at her own staff where she’d leaned it against the table. Somehow she knew the two staffs were one and the same. She must be the high priestess, she thought.
Jeena examined the elf closer. Like most elves, she was very beautiful, but her beauty was marred by a sense of sadness. The dry tracks of tears were clearly visible on both sides of her face.
The silver-haired elf from the message crystal made an attempt to smile but didn’t succeed. “Jeena. Listen well. Everything depends on you doing exactly what I say.” The elf wiped something away from her eye. “When you do, you will be responsible for something that will demand a terrible price. Two elf friends will die.”
* * *
A long five minutes later, Jeena staggered up the stairs, bracing her free hand against the wall at times to remain on her feet. The steps were a blur through the tears that ran freely down her face. A feeling of concern approaching near panic came through the link from her bondmate.
I know he feels my pain, she thought, but I can do nothing to ease his concern now. I will see him soon enough. I must do what needs to be done.
Reaching the landing at the top of the last flight of stairs, Jeena tried to compose herself before she faced the others.
“Jeena,” said Danny. “Perhaps it would be best to reschedule the meeting. I calculate—”
“You calculate what?” Jeena snapped. “Do your precious algorithms show it will be any easier to do what must be done if I wait?”
“No,” admitted Danny. “I just thought you might want a chance to… Well, perhaps you might want to wash your face or something.”
Jeena wiped her left hand across her face, removing the worst of the tears, then straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath. “Tell Raj to use his battle helmet’s holo-projector to contact Rick and the others. Tell them I will be there in a moment.” She sighed. “I just need to figure out how I am going to break the news to Rick.”
Chapter 8 –Elf Friend
_______________________
The sword blow came straight at Amir’s head. Instead of catching the blow on his shield, he ducked and slammed the metal-reinforced wood into the chest of his opponent. The attacker’s chainmail prevented any damage from the blow, but it did catch the other giant by surprise. Amir pushed off with both legs and knocked his opponent into the air. The giant hit the rocky ground rolling. Before he could regain his feet, Amir was on top of him, swinging his sword at the giant’s head. At the last moment, he twisted his arm to the left so the blade struck the practice field instead of his opponent’s forehead.
“All right,” said the downed giant, raising both hands in defeat. “I yield. You’re getting too good for me. I think in the future you’ll need to start doubling up on opponents.”
Nodding at the offhanded compliment, Amir helped Dreusel to his feet.
Dreusel patted at the worst of the dust on his armor. When he was semi-clean, he grinned and picked up his sword and shield. “I suppose I should be grateful you weren’t using that sledgehammer of yours. The last time we fought, you broke my shield in half. I was lucky it wasn’t my head.”
“I apologized for that,” Amir said. “I did buy you another shield.”
Dreusel’s grin grew wider as he lifted his shield. “Shields are one thing. Heads aren’t so easy to replace. I doubt any of the other guards are willing to be your sparring partner when you’re using that hammer. Like I said, you’ve gotten too good at fighting over the past year.”
Amir thought about his training regimen during the last four seasons. Since the murder of his fiancée by the black-armored human, he’d spent every spare minute he could find on the practice field. He’d even bought a cave near the main sparing yard to save time going back and forth.
Amir glanced around the field at the two score giants and giantesses honing their weapon’s skills on dummies or each other. He knew for a fact that he could beat any of th
em now. He took no pride in the knowledge. All that mattered was being good enough to kill the black-armored human when they next met.
A moment of self-doubt welled up inside him. What if we never meet? No. I will not permit that kind of thinking. I know we’ll meet again. On that day, I will avenge Glory. I’ll find her murderer if it takes the rest of my life.
A rumbling sound reverberated in the air as the ground shook violently enough to knock both Dreusel and him to their knees. When the vibrations ended, Amir jumped to his feet and looked around the practice field. Most of the other giants were still sprawled on the ground.
Dreusel picked himself up off the dirt. “The earthquakes are getting worse. The lava’s up another quarter of a spear length. I overheard Shaman Blackroot telling General Veernor that we’ll have to leave our caves soon. The shaman said the magic of their spells can’t take much more.” He glanced at the ceiling of the massive cavern that was the practice field. “I don’t mind admitting I’m concerned the tunnels are going to collapse. If that happens, anyone still here will be buried alive or burnt to a crisp by molten lava.”
Amir didn’t bother trying to disagree. He knew as well as anyone that they were either going to have to leave their beloved home or be wiped out forever. “Rumor has it that the king will be making his decision soon on when to leave and where we’ll go. Until then, I plan on spending as much time as possible in the practice yard.”
Dreusel shook his head. “If you want my opinion, you spend too much time here already. I don’t see how you do it. Since you were accepted as one of Shaman Blackroot’s apprentices, you spend half a day studying magic and the other half here. I don’t see how you do it.”
Amir thought back to how he’d succeeded in obtaining the coveted apprenticeship. He’d beaten out twenty other candidates for the slot. I take no pride in it, he thought. It’s only a means to an end. I saw the black-armored human fight. I’m going to need magic as well as strength of his arms to defeat him.
“Amir!” came a shout from his left.
Glancing over, Amir noticed one of Shaman Blackroot’s newest apprentices running in his direction. When the giantess arrived, she wasted no time with preambles.
“Shaman Blackroot ordered me to fetch you. He’s with the king and General Veernor. They’re waiting in the royal cavern.”
“Me? Are you sure they meant me?”
The giantess nodded. “Yes, you. Unless there’s another Apprentice Amirithoda no one’s bothered telling me about.”
With a nod at Dreusel, Amir followed the giantess as she weaved her way through the tunnels to the royal cavern. When they arrived, King Ironfist, Shaman Blackroot, and General Veernor were sitting cross-legged on the stone floor facing four elves. Although the giants were sitting and the elves standing, the top of the visitor’s heads barley came to the giants’ chests.
The oldest of the elves was a white-haired male in an elaborate black robe. He carried an equally black staff. The second elf was a middle-aged, brown-haired male in a robe of gray. The second elf seemed to wear a perpetual frown. He carried a white staff with a blue gem at the top. Amir sensed Power coming from both the staffs and the two elves. The third elf was a gray-haired, thin male wearing green trousers and blouse and carrying no weapons. His only accoutrement besides his clothing was a rolled cloth tied diagonally across his chest and back.
A Kreorian guard, Amir thought. He tried to remember what his shaman instructors had told him about the legendary royal guards of the Council of Light. They were an order of monks whose fighting skills were renown from one end of the continent of Slyvrastra to the other. Although small in stature compared to a giant, Amir sensed an air of deadliness about the monk.
The last elf was the most interesting of the four. She was a young female with long dark hair that hung all the way to her waist. She had equally dark eyes embedded with minute specks of silver. Her eyes reflected the light coming from the glow-stones embedded in the ceiling of the cavern. Like the second male, she wore a robe of gray. She wielded a staff that was blackened as if scorched in some horrific battle. A bright blue gem rested at the top of the wood. Engravings resembling vines and leaves were carved into the dark wood from one end of the staff to the other. Power coming from the gem, combined with that coming from the female, told Amir the female would be a powerful foe.
“Ah,” said Shaman Blackroot as he waved a hand in Amir’s direction. “You’re here.” He nodded at Amir’s guide. “You may go, Krinda. Close the doors behind you as you leave.”
The giantess apprentice bowed in the shaman’s direction and then at the king. Spinning on her heels, she left the cavern at a brisk pace.
Once the massive double doors shut, Shaman Blackroot turned to the female elf. “This is my apprentice, Amirithoda. I believe this is the giant the Oracle told you about.”
The four elves turned and stared at Amir. The elven female smiled. The effect was dramatic. Somehow the near empty cavern seemed to light up and grow more peaceful.
Her smile reminds me of Glory, Amir thought. She has a kind soul, just like Glory. He was tempted to smile back but refrained. Since the loss of his fiancée, he’d rarely smiled.
King Ironfist waved Amir forward.
Unsure whether to bow first or start walking, Amir tried to do both at the same time. He succeeded in doing neither. Tripping over his feet, he stumbled and fell to the floor on one knee before catching himself.
The stern look that had been on the king’s face turned to a grin.
The equally stern look that had been on Shaman Blackroot’s face grew sterner.
Turning to the elves, the king laughed. “As you can see, Amirithoda is one of our most agile fighters.”
Amir felt heat rising to his cheeks. He remained on one knee in the hope that the king might take it for a bow.
“Well,” snapped Shaman Blackroot. “Don’t just stay there like some misplaced statue.” He nodded at the stone floor next to him. “Get over here and sit down. From what High Priestess Miandriathoraxen tells us, we haven’t much time.”
A rumbling sound echoed in the distance. The ground shook. Nothing fell from the ceiling, but the dust thrown into the air from between the stone blocks of the cavern floor brought a fit of coughing from giants and elves alike. Only the elven monk seemed unaffected.
Hastily regaining his feet, Amir made his way to the master shaman and sat down. Once in a cross-legged position, he stared at the elves. Mostly he stared at the female. He’d heard of the elves’ High Priestess of the Lady of the Tree, but never expected to meet her in person. Like other elves he’d seen in the past, she was beautiful but somehow more so. From her youthful looks, Amir guessed her age in the early four hundreds. Unlike giants who were lucky to make it past six or seven hundred, high elves were known to live two thousand years or more.
Something about the female’s ears drew his attention. They were less pointed than those of elves he’d seen in the past. He grew suspicious. “You’re part human, aren’t you?”
“Amir,” growled Shaman Blackroot. “You will apologize to—”
High Priestess Miandriathoraxen laughed, seeming to take no offense. “That is quite all right, Master Blackroot. Your apprentice is correct. I do have human stock in my family. It has been watered down over the millennium, but it is there nevertheless. The elf maid Mendera was a half elf. Her father was a human. She was my great-grandmother many times over.”
“The rider of Elf Friend Swiftmane?” Amir asked. He’d heard stories about the legendary elf friends his whole life. The unicorn Swiftmane had defeated a demon-possessed giant at the very walls of Silverton. The possession of one of their giant kind by a demon was not something his people took pride in. “The deeds of the elf friend and his rider are legendary even among the giants. I was told at an early age that the elf friend saved Silverton from certain destruction.”
The dark-haired elf nodded and smiled. “You are correct, Apprentice Amirithoda. Elf Friend Swiftmane and
Mendera, my grandmother, stopped the demon and its army at the cost of the unicorn’s life. Without Swiftmane’s sacrifice, I believe the demon’s army would have conquered all of Slyvrastra. Are you familiar with the history of our elf friends?”
Amir shrugged. “I’ve heard there have been six elf friends over the last eighty thousand years. Besides the unicorn, I think there was a gnome and a dragon. I’m not sure of the others.”
The priestess smiled.
Once again, the cavern seemed to light up. A sense of peace flooded over Amir, washing away some of his cares. The pain of Glory’s loss was still with him, but even that was lessened somewhat.
“Actually,” said the high priestess, “our historians believe there have been seven elf friends, although there is some disagreement among our scholars. The exploits of the unicorn, gnome, dragon, dwarf, sprite, and halfling are well documented. They all came to the aid of the elves in a time of need with a specific skill necessary to quell the crisis. A possible seventh elf friend is only hinted at in the writings of the ancients. We know nothing about what he did or why he was declared elf friend.” She shrugged and smiled. “Like I said, there is some dispute among our scholars if he even existed.”
“Why the dispute?” Amir asked, ignoring a frown from Shaman Blackroot. “I’ve been told the library at Silverton is extensive. Either a seventh elf friend is in your histories or he’s not.”
The high priestess glanced at her companions before looking back at Amir, then smiled. “If it were only so simple, Apprentice Amirithoda. You see, according to what little our scholars can ferret out among the writings of the ancients, the seventh elf friend, if he indeed existed, was a human.”
“A human?” said Shaman Blackroot. “I had not heard this. Surely that can’t be. They are…” He looked at the high priestess as if remembering she had human heritage in her bloodline. “Uh, I mean…”
High Priestess Miandriathoraxen laughed. “You need not explain, Master Blackroot. Believe me when I say that many of my race do not warm to the idea that a human may have played a part in the salvation of our kind.” She shrugged. “As I said, the existence of the seventh elf friend is disputed among our scholars.”
Wizard Gigantic (Intergalactic Wizard Scout Chronicles Book 9) Page 8
