by C E Johnson
“Perhaps we’ll see them again,” Elizabeth said hopefully. She reached down and picked up wildflowers as they walked.
Emily whispered the names of the flowers Elizabeth was picking, “Blueheart, violet, orchid, Louisiana iris.” Emily thought back to her days working with her parents in their greenhouse, and the images nearly made her cry. Elizabeth weaved the blossoms into a vivid burst of color in a braid of flowers. Elizabeth placed the first one on Emily’s head and Emily sighed in contentment. Elizabeth’s sweetness was like a healing elixir. Continuing to make one for each of them, Elizabeth walked as if in a daze remaining in her own place of peace. Amidst the death and destruction, the simple act gave Emily hope. Birds were calling to each other, but they sounded worried with repeated high trills suggesting their concern. Emily rubbed her aching muscles massaging out cramping knots that had developed since her excessive use of magic.
“They’re still on the road,” Anna announced to their squad, again deep into her link. “They seem to know we went into the swamp and they’re debating how to follow us.” A drizzle of rain began to fall. Mixing with the soot in the air, the water was dirty and gray. Blowing from the north, the wind picked up. “They’re leaving their horses and proceeding along our trail,” Anna added in a voice that shook with concern. They had arrived at a river that ran north and south.
“We should split up,” Oliver advised. “You need to stay together, but I’ll take a different path to draw them away from you.” He studied Xena and Rune. “Send your bondsmates with me for some distance. My path will be more believable.”
“How will you rejoin us?” Anna asked with a frown.
“Once I find some place where I can hide my tracks, I’ll come back to the group.” Oliver pounded his staff into the ground with determination. “I want to help. This may work.” He ran his hand through his wet hair.
“I think we should try it,” Luke volunteered. “We’re running out of options and we need to get to New Orleans.”
His plan is sound, Xena whispered. I’ll keep him safe, she promised.
Emily went to Oliver and hugged him. “Be careful.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek. She then hugged Xena kissing her on her head.
Oliver smiled. “I’ll send your bondsmates back to you once I find a boat or canoe. I’ll drift back down this river during the night and pick up your path.” He swallowed hard. “Or call your bondsmates earlier if you need them. Anna can send Soane to guide me back to you when you’re safe.” Xena and Rune led him away in a northern direction. Breaking small branches and stomping in the mud, he started off at a jog making no effort to hide his movements. The rest of their party started along the river following a more southern and eastern path. Walking in the water whenever possible, they tried to camouflage their trail. The rain was coming harder now. A mile downstream they crossed the waterway and continued in their southeastern direction through the swamps around New Orleans until nightfall.
As they made camp, Emily knew what she had to do. Even though she could barely stand on her feet, she had to contact Hadrian with a dream-link. Sitting down in the small tent Luke had set up for her, she began to meditate hoping she had enough magus replenished to establish a strong connection. She located Hadrian and nudged his mind gently.
“Emily!” Hadrian began as the link formed. He studied her with wide eyes. “You look exhausted,” he whispered. Emily caught him up on all that had occurred since they left Austin. His face sagged with worry as she finished her tale. “Father should be approaching New Orleans with his army of soldiers by now,” Hadrian revealed hopefully. “You should be safe once you make it that far.” Hadrian looked around his position warily before continuing. “The President sent me to advise his son. You’re never going to believe what I’ve seen.”
“What?” Emily asked. She couldn’t imagine what Malachi was up to, but she was glad Hadrian was there. She needed to talk with Malachi. A light breeze went through the tent catching strands of her hair which she brushed back behind her pointed ear.
“I’m in Malachi’s war-camp,” Hadrian told her, his eyes narrowing. “He’s formed a massive army.” Clearing his throat, he continued, “He has a leopard bondsmate and he’s engaged to another bonded magician.”
“Has he gained more powers?” Emily asked, amazement almost stealing her breath away. “How has he done so much?” She remembered his aura in Washington D.C. Although it had shown his elven heritage, it wasn’t all that impressive at that time.
Hadrian nodded. “His aura has amplified ten times in power and strength. He’s in the tent next to me.”
“I have to talk with him,” Emily blurted in a rush. “I have a message for him.”
“That’s the main reason I’m here,” Hadrian said softly. “Malachi trusts me. I can probably add him to our dream-link.” He studied Emily pointedly. “It will take more energy. Are you really ready to try it?” He sounded hesitant. “You don’t look so great, Em. Maybe we should attempt it after you’ve recharged.”
Emily smoothed her hair and took a deep breath. “It has to be done.” Hadrian inclined his head. He disappeared and then reappeared with Malachi. They all expended a component of magus to create a three-way link. Malachi was taller than she remembered him, and his frame had filled in. Instantly he reminded her of Shadoe, and she felt her breath catch as a dull ache formed in her heart. His amber eyes were glistening like gold and his hair was coal-black tumbling thickly to his shoulders. He wore a cloak of green wool over leather armor infused with plate that was extensively enameled and inlaid with a delicate light gold that matched his eyes. There was a new confidence about his noble face, and Emily could detect traces of a bondsmate infused within his character just as Hadrian had described. She could tell he was deep into a link with his bondsmate gaining advice as they spoke. “Greetings, Malachi,” she began, holding back tears as she thought over all that had happened to bring about this moment.
Malachi inclined his head and spoke quietly, “Greetings, Emily Dalton.” Emily could see Malachi was tense. For all his growing strength, she noticed him glancing worriedly toward the entrance and squirming uncomfortably where he stood. He continued in a hushed voice, “Drogor has advised me to stay far away from you, and to decline contact from anyone associated with you.”
“I’m glad you aren’t following all of his advice,” Emily said with as gracious of a smile as she could wear, wanting to put Malachi at ease. She hoped to act relaxed and she focused on honesty, but she could barely contain a scream in her soul at who Malachi was consorting with. How can he accept counsel from Drogor? she wondered.
He’s young and confused, Xena whispered. Xena was still on her misdirection mission with Oliver, but she was listening to the conversation and advising as always.
Malachi stopped his nervous movements and gave Emily a small good-natured smile before speaking again, “Sometimes I reflect on all that has happened in the last year. It’s overwhelming.” His smile disappeared just as quickly as it had come, and looking into Emily’s eyes without a hint of deceit, he gave a long sigh. “I know Drogor isn’t truly a good person, but he’s given me gifts that are beyond my comprehension.” He shrugged. “I want you to know where I stand, Emily. I’m on his side for now.”
Emily gave a small little nod. She knew she couldn’t change Malachi’s underlying intent in a quick conversation, but she hoped to plant a seed of doubt in his mind. “Sometimes the borders between good and evil are hard to determine,” she admitted. She rubbed her temples. A headache was starting. She didn’t have very long. Her magus was low and although she wanted to do this right, she didn’t have time to plot out a mental strategy. She would have to speak from her heart. “I don’t know Drogor, so you will have to assess his inner goals on your own, but I did meet your uncle, Shadoe,” Emily began. “I believe I understand his inner passions.” She watched Malachi’s eyes widen. “Shadoe was a great man. I promised I would bring you a message. It’s his encapsulation of all he knew of hi
s sister—your mother, Kelcey.”
Malachi blinked several times, but Emily could still see faint tears brimming. “My mother?” he asked in a whisper. “Send me anything you’re able,” he blurted, closing his eyes hard for a moment, appearing to be composing himself before opening them again. “I think I’ll know what’s real.”
Emily closed her own eyes. Summoning a portion of her inner magus to help her with the transition, she mentally prepared herself to send across the message Shadoe had given her. She again wanted it done properly in pristine form. When she was ready, she sent Malachi everything that Malachi’s uncle, Shadoe, had composed for him. When she finished, she reopened her eyes, even more depleted than before. Watching the message and the tender moments again made her feel as if her heart would break in two with the soft emotions she had transmitted.
Emily opened her eyes to see Malachi’s face streaked with tears. “I received everything,” he choked out. “She was wonderful.” Malachi coughed to clear his throat and regain his composure. “Thank you. I can tell how weary you are.” There was a new tenderness in Malachi’s voice as he stared at her across their link. “I appreciate your sacrifice. Words cannot express my gratitude.”
Time is short, Xena whispered in Emily’s mind. You need to find out if he can be turned, and you need to discover anything you can concerning Drogor’s plans. Any information you find will be critical for our survival.
“I’m being chased by half-deads,” Emily said in a low voice to Malachi. “I don’t have much time left to make certain crucial decisions. Can you reveal anything to me about Drogor’s plans that concern you or me? I know he plans to come to Earth at some point.”
Malachi dried his eyes on his cloak, swallowing hard. “You’re correct about that.” He took a deep breath and smoothed his tunic. “Drogor is ready to come to Earth. He wants me to bring him back very soon.”
“You can’t do that,” Emily exclaimed, losing her own composure. “He’s immensely powerful and who knows what he’s learned in Ater after all of these years. Your mother and your uncle would never condone this. Think Malachi.” Knowing she was overwhelming him, she bit the side of her mouth to stop the blast of passion she was streaming in a fervor.
Malachi glanced behind him. No one was there, only the wind. “If I don’t bring Drogor over, someone else surely will.” He glanced again toward the entrance of the tent. This time Emily could see a black panther prowling in the distance pacing near the doorway guarding the entrance from prying eyes. Malachi continued, “If I stay in his good graces, at least I’ll know what’s going on. I’ll know his intentions.” He blotted his eyes once again. “Perhaps I can inform you of his plans if he seems out of control.” Concentrating on some image in his mind, he appeared unfocused for a moment. “I can tell Shadoe had an underlying hope that I would join forces with you. I will have to talk with my advisors, to my fiancé, and make a decision in the near future. Finding out about my mother and uncle does change things, but I’m not sure what’s ultimately going to happen.”
Let’s hope Shadoe helped us change the course of the impending war, Xena whispered.
“Let me know what you decide,” Emily said in a hushed voice to Malachi before ending the link. “Be wary of Drogor,” she warned once again. She could tell she had made the impression she wanted on Malachi. There was nothing more to be gained at this time. Ending her meditation, she found herself back in her small tent surrounded by her friends. The rain was still falling on the canvas, but the black day suddenly wasn’t so dark. She felt truly hopeful for the first time in a long time.
“Where were you?” Luke asked, his forehead was creased with concern. “I could tell you were in a dream-link.”
“I contacted Hadrian,” she answered. Her lids felt heavy and she struggled to keep her eyes open.
Luke’s frown deepened. “You should save your energy until you’re recharged.”
Emily squeezed his hand in appreciation for his concern. “Hadrian was visiting with Malachi and I granted Malachi the memories that Shadoe wanted me to impart.”
Elizabeth entered the tent. She felt Emily’s forehead with the back of her hand. “You’ve got a low fever, Em. You need to rest for a while and stop using your magus until you get your energy back.” She gestured toward Emily’s leather pouch holding her magestones. “Why don’t you put on your greenstone necklace? It will probably give you a lift.”
Emily knew her friend was right. She opened her leather pouch and placed her magestone around her neck. She did feel immediately better. The magestone began to vibrate lightly, and she felt a nudge on her consciousness as if a dream-link was about to begin, but nothing else happened.
“Get some sleep,” Isabelle advised, “I’ll keep the critters at bay.” Emily smiled at her friend as a weariness descended on her mind like a dark veil making her long to lie down and rest.
“Nothing will disturb you,” Luke promised. Standing tall, he moved just outside the tent. He ignored the rain as it drizzled down his face. His hand went to the hilt of his greatsword. Emily snuggled under her blankets. Anna, Isabelle, and Elizabeth moved close to her keeping her warm in a loving pack.
Are you okay? Emily asked Xena through their mind-link before she allowed herself to sleep. The soreness in her mind was growing, and her doubts were returning and nibbling at her mind.
We’re fine, Xena promised. We’re just going to draw the trailing half-deads a little further away. Then we’ll return. Get rest, recharge, she urged.
Emily’s mind went to Malachi and she tried to weigh which side he would ultimately decide to align with. He’s an elf, she thought to herself. He would never betray his own people. Would he? She could picture his raw emotions and she found she truly liked Malachi. He was honest and wore his feelings on his sleeve. She could easily picture how Drogor was manipulating Malachi, probably planning to make him a prince of his army while giving him continual gifts. If she could just learn about Drogor’s plans through Malachi and gain insight on his location and forces, perhaps she could end this war before it started. Buoyed by the new possibilities, she fell asleep.
CHAPTER 13
The Elves
Elaina, the queen of the elves, felt a low thrumming from the jewelry she wore on her neck. This was a matching stone to the one Emily wore on Earth. She was meditating alone in her room high in the Nuwa tree on Acacia. The queen opened her mind to the capabilities of the magestone. This was equivalent to a call from her daughter, an SOS, and her heart was suddenly in her throat. The message wasn’t made of words, but of emotions and perceptions. She instantly knew Emily and her friends were in grave danger. Closer to death than life, Emily herself was extremely drained. Delving deep into the information she could learn from the communication, she could tell Emily was seriously threatened, and the ramifications went far beyond potential injury to her daughter. Delving into prophecy after prophecy over the years since Emily had left, she was certain that Earth and Acacia revolved around Emily’s future as surely as they rotated around their own suns. It’s time to go, she thought to herself. She had planned and planned for this moment. Even with the different way time worked between the two planets, she still wanted to leave soon. Everything was hanging in the balance, and the fate of two planets would be sealed if she didn’t take action to help her only child. “Assemble the council immediately,” she called to a guard standing sentry in the room below her garden. She could hear movements as he scrambled to carry out her directive.
“A council meeting?” Crittenden asked a short time later as he burst into her room with Victoria. Crittenden was the warlord of the elves and Victoria was the squadron commander of her dragon riders and Crittenden’s assistant war chief. Behind them scurried a team of attendants.
“Emily’s in trouble,” Elaina began, “and I fear Acacia and Earth hang in the balance.” Her attendants rushed forward to prepare her for the council meeting. Strong hands went to Elaina’s long brown hair, pulling it back, weaving her t
resses into an intricate wraparound braid. “I plan to ask the council to raise our banners,” Elaina continued. Her lead attendant lifted a silver crown from its holding case. Holding the crown to her queen as an offering, she knelt in front of Elaina. Running her fingertips over the small silver leaves before placing it on her head, Elaina accepted the crown.
“War?” Crittenden shook his head slowly. “Are you truly planning for war?” Elaina could see the bewilderment in his deep green elven eyes. “We’ve had peace for so long. There’s not a hint of turmoil on Acacia.” He gestured passionately as his muscles flexed and roiled under his skin like beasts alive. “Do you believe our enemies will suddenly arise from the portals?”
“The war that we fight will not be on Acacia,” the Queen whispered. Her attendants were listening to her words and their eyes grew wide, but they didn’t falter in their movements. Her lead assistant went to a closet. Selecting from Elaina’s finest clothing, ones she seldom wore, she chose a gown that was a fusion of snow-white silk and cloth-of-silver. The finery was embellished with fragments of magestones of green and blue making the garment heavy with decoration.
“So the battle will be on Earth?” Victoria asked thoughtfully. Victoria was as tall as Elaina, lithe, beautiful with tanned skin as flawless as porcelain. She had long brown hair, kissed by the sun with golden highlights. Her eyes were as green as Crittenden’s own and they sparkled with an excited fire. Wearing a green wool cloak over armor that was a mixture of leather and gray ringmail, she appeared ready to lead a battle at a moment’s notice. She wore a silver shortsword on her hip that could be worn on dragonback. The weapon was housed in a brown scabbard that spoke of hard use.
“It will be on Earth,” Elaina confirmed, “and we have to leave rapidly, or all will be lost.” Over the magestone gown her attendants placed a cloak-of-gold that extended nearly to the floor. The covering was trimmed in fur and satin, again with a faint lining of green magestones.
