“Is it not risky to travel close to the Torsilo Quarts?” Dathiem’s dry voice spoke up.
“I am concerned with the size of our company,” Zhane added, spreading his hands to indicate all of them. “We will be easier to spot in the wild lands.”
“There is no need. The Mermis have been working on something to shield us.” Ellagine gestured toward them. “Our auras will be difficult to read and watching eyes will not readily see us as we travel.”
Dathiem sniffed. Zhane nodded.
Wekin, who was counting on his fingers, piped up. “How come there are three deeds? I thought…”
“You thought the Green Stone would be dissolved and that was it?” Idrithar’s eyes bored into Wekin’s.
Eliesmore squirmed. He’d thought the same thing. Once he’d dissolved the Green Stone, his quest would be done. His whole life couldn’t be dedicated to being the One. Frustration mounted and questions rose, but Idrithar continued to speak.
“Once the Green Stone is dissolved, Eliesmore will have the power he needs to defeat the Dark Three, which is why there are three deeds. The Dark Servant resides in Castle Range, also known as the Constel Heights. That is where we must go to dissolve the Green Stone.” His voice dropped, and his eyes stared off into the distance. “The Constel Heights are where the first battle for this world will take place.” His fist clenched and shook. “The second deed is to find the Phutal. We believe the Dark One is in charge of it. However, we could be wrong. It is the device the Changers use to create portals and move between worlds. It is how they banished Magdela the Monrage to the Eastern World. As long as they are able to move freely in the Four Worlds, we will never be able to outsmart them. Once the Green Stone is dissolved, we must trap them here in the South World.”
“Shouldn’t destroying the Phutal be the first quest?” Dathiem spoke up again; his voice was soft this time.
Idrithar stroked his beard. “We need the power of the Green Stone. It is likely the Changers will sense us coming; after all, they are drawn to power. We have to take the risk that they will be more willing to prevent the Green Stone from being dissolved than to flee through the portals and leave the fountain unprotected.”
Optimistic raised his hand like a child, waiting for Idrithar to nod at him before he spoke. “How do we know there is only one Phutal? What if there are other devices that can open portals into worlds?”
“A wise question.” Idrithar strode back to his seat, perching on the edge of it. “We cannot be certain. From what we know of history, eight portals open into the Western World, whether they were done by the same device or eight individual ones is unknown. When they were closed, they left remnants that briefly flung people from one side of the world to the other. It is known that the first Changer, the Ruler, went to the Western World via a portal and dwelt with the Green People there.”
His eyes slide past Ellagine at the mention of Green People. Eliesmore noticed her ears twitch as if someone had pinched her. It was not her fault. How could Idrithar blame her for the deception of her people? Although it wasn’t the first time, Magdela the Monrage had risen from the heart of the Green People in the South World.
“One of the Changers has the Phutal. We need to find and destroy it.”
“Is destroying it necessary?” Visra grinned, showing off her wolfish teeth. “We should use it.”
“No!” Idrithar cut her off, raising a hand to ward off her words. “No,” he repeated again with less urgency. “If we keep the Phutal, the Changers will hunt us down, find it, and use it for their own purposes. It is safest for us to take it to Daygone and destroy it.”
“I think we should keep it,” Visra muttered under her breath, crossing her arms as she slumped in her chair. Yamier winked at her in agreement.
Zhane stood, crossing his hands in front of him. His deep tone penetrated each corner of the meeting room. “The Phutal must be taken to Rededak—the Dark—in chunskin olwlen, the Place of Evilness. It is only through fire and water that a powerful relic can be destroyed. However, the Dark One resides in Daygone, and it is there we believe he creates the Monrages.”
Eliesmore pulled at his shirt, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. He remembered stories his mother told him: tales of Five Warriors who saved the Western World and stories about the civil war in the Eastern World. He remembered Ellagine’s words about the Ruler and how he’d escaped, somehow, from the Five Warriors. “Which of the Dark Three is he?” he found himself blurting out. “Which one is the Ruler?”
Ellagine stiffened as if she’d been hit, and Eliesmore felt all eyes turn to him. He saw it then. He knew something they did not know. Something they were not supposed to know. The Mermis knew. The Iaens knew. Perhaps Idrithar knew this truth, but the others were in shock. Zhane sat down, covering his heart with his hand. Arldrine’s eyes were dark. “Who told you this?” she demanded. “Ellagine, is this true?”
“Run,” Ellagine whispered. “Run. Run. As fast as you can. Never stop.” Her eyes glazed over in a trance.
“It is true,” Glashar spoke up. “Few know this. The Ruler who wreaked havoc on the Western World was a Changer. The Five Warriors thought they had him when they trapped his spirit and dropped it into the transformative waters. Yet he escaped and came here to finish what he started. We call him the Dark One; they called him the Ruler. His name is Sarhorr, a name that should never be uttered again lest we inadvertently summon him here. He is responsible for creating the Monrages because creations and transformations have always been his gifting. It is no surprise that he has some predictabilities, staying in Daygone where he had rebuilt a version of the Great Water Hole. It is likely he has the Phutal.”
“Wait.” Wekin stood, sputtering. “But I thought…I thought…” He sat down again, unable to finish his thought as disappointment stared out of his blue eyes.
“I did, too.” Yamier patted his shoulder.
Dathiem bowed his head, hiding his face.
Optimistic reached over to Ellagine and squeezed her hand.
“What is the third deed?” Eliesmore tried to keep the quiver out of his voice, even though he could see the blackness dancing around his vision.
“The third deed is to conquer the Dark Three and cut back the power of the Black Steeds,” Idrithar explained. “If it is all out war, so be it.”
Eliesmore wasn’t sure how he found his feet. When he came to, he was standing outside of the meeting room. He was bent over with his hands on his knees. He took deep breaths. His heart was racing. Dissolving the Green Stone was impossible enough, but hunting down the Changers, killing them, and restoring the South World to the White Steeds was impossible. How many of them were left in the world? They would surely die.
32
Eliesmore
“Eliesmore?” Ellagine bent down, attempting to see his face. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” he huffed after a moment, standing straight. “Ellagine?” He watched the shadows dance across her face and the way her cheeks pulled back in worry and her lips parted. Her blue eyes searched his face, waiting. “How come you didn’t tell me everything?”
She licked her lips. “Eliesmore, you ran when I told you about the Green Stone, knowing more or less would not have changed your mind.”
His retort died on his tongue, knowing she was right. He regarded her silently, recalling Glashar’s words of warning and letting them fall to dust. Ellagine did not frighten him; he could feel her aura of compassion enveloping him. She wanted him to succeed.
“I have something for you.” Reaching into the bag she wore tied around her waist, she pulled out an amulet. It was silver with a crown inside a star that lay inside a shining circle with four points shooting out from it. As Eliesmore took it out of her hands, a sense of familiarity overcame him. “It matches the one on your sword,” Ellagine added.
“What does it mean?” Eliesmore compared the two.
“The Watchers of the Four Worlds use this symbol; originally, it comes from the Gree
n People. It is the light of Shalidir.”
It felt heavy in his hands. “Shalidir,” he echoed. “Is that a person or a place?”
Ellagine moved back toward the meeting hall; she put her hand on the doors. “She was a Green Person who built the Idrain Fountain where the Green Stone will be dissolved. Are you ready?”
He wanted to say no and to tell her he’d never be ready. Fear faded, leaving the old anger he’d felt when he first met her. It was her fault he was forced into being the One, and while he liked his new friends and the idea of adventure, he did not want to fight Changers. It seemed for a moment that he could dash down the halls, out of the fortress, and escape from his fate. Her eyes caught his, warning him not to leave. “We are your protectors.”
Wekin was standing in the middle of the meeting hall, pleading. The mischievous sparkle was gone from his eyes, granting him an older air. “Yamier and I would like to join the company of warriors who are going to do the three deeds. It seems useless to stay here when we could be helping. I am good with maps, Yamier can cook, we can carry bags, and…” he trailed off, his eyes beseeching Idrithar.
Indonesia walked toward him, her dark hair cascading over one shoulder. She placed one hand on her heart. “Idrithar, I know you do not want Yamier and Wekin to come. The journey is long and the quests too dangerous. Yet, they are the youngest of us all, and the most willing to go. They are Crons. They are seekers.” Lifting her sharp eyes, she addressed Idrithar. “Take them. Take everyone here. My kind, the Mermis, belong here. A day will come when the White Steeds come out of hiding. They will come to this fortress to take up arms, and we will give them their tasks.”
Idrithar pursed his lips in response. “I cannot say this choice pleases me, but it is decided. We leave today before midday.”
Indonesia stepped away from Wekin, dropping her hands to her side. She motioned for the Green Company to gather together. “There is a blessing my grandfather taught me.” Leaka and Sletaira moved to opposite corners of the room, lifting their hands with their palms to the sky as they surrounded the company. They closed their eyes and began to chant, their words weaving through the room like ribbons. They cast sparks of silver and gold.
The blessing surged through Eliesmore, blowing away the fear, anger, and thoughts of darkness. It scattered the webs of confusion from his mind, leaving nothing except encouragement and power. He took a deep breath, allowing the urge to flee to disappear into the dark recesses of his memory.
“We shall call you the Green Company.” Indonesia broke the spell. “Here, we’ve had green cloaks made for each of you, and your packs are waiting in the dining hall.”
The three Mermis moved forward. They handed out the cloaks and touched each head as they passed, sealing the blessing.
“No one goes anywhere alone,” Idrithar called over the flurry of activity as they prepared to leave. “Remember, our intent is to protect Eliesmore and Optimistic at all costs. Those who are lost in our journey will remain lost.”
Eliesmore barely heard Idrithar's words as he felt his green cloak drape around him. A walking stick was pressed into his hands, and a pack was slung over his shoulder. Zhane stood over him, “It’s easier if you carry your sword on your back,” he explained. Eliesmore nodded as if he were in a dream while Zhane showed him how to strap the sword to his back.
Yamier and Wekin jumped up and down, whispering to each other as if saying it out loud would make it real. We’re going. Can you believe it? They are letting us come. This will be our moment. Idrithar pulled Ellagine aside and spoke into her ear. Her face changed, and her hair slipped forward, hiding her expression as she nodded. Optimistic handed items to Arldrine, carrying a light conversation as they worked together. Dathiem departed from the room with the white horses. It seemed Visra and Glashar had disappeared as well. “It is time to go do the three deeds,” Idrithar announced, and Eliesmore heard the words in a fog. Even with his protectors, he was alone.
33
Glashar
Glashar leaned on one of the white columns of the fortress with her arms crossed. Her eyes blurred and unfocused as she waited for the sensation. It hadn’t hit her until she saw Visra again. Now she understood the gaping hole the loss of powers left. Perhaps her decision had been rash. Memories of the ceremony rose before her: the Idrains stood in the circle of the amulet of Shalidir, chanting. Their arms rose and fell like their words. Their auras twisted around each other until they became one. They drew power from its source, setting it free before capturing its essence. She could smell the sharpness of it and taste the flavors that made her eyes burn brighter and her steps faster. She missed the thrilling elation and the knowledge that her kind could do anything they pleased. Only they had deserted the world, leaving it to the hands of the Changers. If they had stayed and if they had faced the Changers, there would be no need for the One. Time and time again, the Idrains had a chance to save the world, yet they ignored its plea and turned an inward eye to their own wishes. Seven years ago, she would have done what they had; she would not be like them now. She would make a stand. Even as her thoughts swirled in silver cyclones around her, the cold blade of a sword pricked her neck. She froze. Waiting.
“I should kill you now.” The venom in Visra’s voice was potent. “While no one is looking. Only the trees will see this, and they’ll believe the Black Steeds have returned.”
“You don’t want to kill me,” Glashar whispered, her face turning warm.
“Why not? You took everything from me.”
“We have a quest. You cannot do this without me.”
“It’s not a quest. It's suicide. We’re all going to die when we get to the end.” All the same, the sword moved away from Glashar’s throat.
“Yes,” Glashar confirmed, still frozen in place. “We are all going to die. Wait. Wait until then.”
“But you are like me. We are powerless. Why wait?” Visra moved closer, and her fingers strayed over Glashar’s throat.
In the blink of an eye, Glashar spun, elbowing Visra in the back and pinning her to the column. She twisted her hand behind her back. “You forget,” Glashar whispered in her ear. “I’m just as strong as you. I may not wear the skin of an assassin on the outside, but I’m just as lethal. Stop hiding behind your tough demeanor. We are Idrains, regardless of our power.”
Visra struggled out of the hold. Her eyes were emotionless. “We may be on this quest together. Still, I don’t forgive you for what you did to me.”
Glashar backed away with her hands up. “I’m not sorry. It was the right thing to do.”
Visra spun on her heel. “That’s what’s wrong with you. You have no remorse. You want your version of ‘right,’ but you never think about the consequences.”
“Spare me your untruths,” Glashar flung over her shoulder as she walked away.
34
Eliesmore
A clod of dirt, old roots, and decayed leaves lay at his feet. He kicked them, watching the crumbles bounce across the dead ground. Life had forsaken the South World. “Eliesmore.” Leaka looped her arm through his elbow. “Come with me.” She walked with him down the wide steps of the fortress. “You must be very brave.”
“I don’t feel very brave,” Eliesmore admitted. He sank into her touch. Her warm hand on his arm was a comfort.
“When I was young, I grew up between two worlds,” Leaka remarked. Eliesmore noticed the other Mermis were leading the Green Company to white horses, three by three. They drifted to each one: touching, embracing, and saying goodbye. “Our Father, may he rest in peace, was a great hero in his time. He had honor, respect, and the love of all things that live and breathe. Being his daughter, I struggled to find my place in the world because of assumed expectations. If you ever feel the same way: lost and lonely, reach out. You have skilled warriors protecting you, and you also have friends.”
“Why did you do it?” Eliesmore tilted his head toward hers. “Why did you leave your world to come here?”
A t
hroaty laugh escaped her lips. Her fingers squeezed his arm. “Why does anyone leave except for the sake of adventure?”
“Saving the world doesn’t seem like an adventure,” he countered.
“Oh? It depends on your perspective.” They halted in front of a horse, and Leaka reached up, placing a hand on its nose. “Eliesmore, this is Flywinger. Flywinger, meet Eliesmore.”
Flywinger snorted and shook his head, his silvery mane moving up and down. “Hello, Eliesmore. I am Flywinger. I love to run.” He turned to the side, allowing Eliesmore to mount up.
“Have you ridden before?” Leaka asked, stroking Flywinger’s side.
“Once.” Eliesmore shuddered, thinking back to the impromptu flight from the Rakhai.
“Grip with your thighs, and by all means, do not pull his mane.” She cupped her hands. “I’ll give you a leg up.”
Feeling inadequate, Eliesmore allowed her to help him mount up. “I’m sorry we did not get to talk longer.” He looked down at the Mermi. “I would have liked to hear more about your father and your journey.”
Leaka smiled; her pointed teeth glittered in her mouth. “We will speak again. When you return.” She patted his knee, a gesture that reminded him of his mother, and a teardrop of sorrow enfolded his heart.
“We ride north with Fastshed and his company until we reach the upper edge of the Sandy Sizge Hills,” Idrithar called, springing up on Fastshed. He tucked his staff behind him. “From there, we turn west.”
Indonesia, Sletaira, and Leaka stood shoulder to shoulder. As Fastshed leaned into a gallop, they lifted their hands in farewell. Eliesmore twisted on Flywinger’s back, watching their exotic forms fade into the trees. The fortress disappeared in a blur as if it had never been there. The horses picked their way through the thick underbrush. Vines poked and prodded Eliesmore as he ducked low over Flywinger’s back, gently twining his fingers through the silver mane. It was only a few minutes before his eye caught the cusp of a blue twinkle, and he started, sitting up straighter on Flywinger’s back and looking out. The trees parted like doors, and he caught his breath in excitement as the view ripped into his vision, opening his senses. Before him lay a great body of water much like the Jaded Sea. It was a sea of sapphire, bathing itself in sparkling light. He watched the way the waves twinkled as they curved, creating a song and dancing to music only they could hear. White froth threw itself on the shore, scattering the bleached sands and tossing up lily pads, bracken, and seaweed. The light salt tickled his nose and charmed his tongue, and just when he thought the taste of raw fishiness would turn his insides, he caught another odor—strong and distinct but not unpleasant. It quivered around him before it disappeared.
The Complete Four Worlds Series Page 82
