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.
Snow turned to rain, and the drifts changed to slush and mud, slick and slippery as they marched. A dark whisper echoed across the peaks; a chant drew nearer. Trouble. Trouble. Deep black evil. A chant Zhane hoped had been swallowed in the Holesmoles with the monsters of darkness. Trouble. Trouble. Deep black evil.
“Woísts!” Dathiem cried, his voice cutting clearly through the air.
“They are coming from the north,” Ellagine called.
Zhane cocked his head. “They haven’t seen us yet. Run,” he ordered, picking up the pace.
He led them through the muck as the night consumed them. He took them into the land with short yellow grass and scarce underbrush.
Trouble. Trouble. Deep black evil.
Trouble. Trouble. Deep black evil.
The chanting of the woísts drew dangerously close, forcing Zhane to draw his sword. They materialized out of the darkness; a battleax whirled past Zhane's head. "Draw your swords," he roared. He moved into the shadows as the armed creatures leaped in front of him, one after the other. He drove his sword into the underarm of one; he kicked another down into the snowdrifts. An arrow flew by; he assumed it was from Glashar.
As quickly as they had come, the creatures disappeared, as if they were called off by some invisible master. Zhane could still hear the army marching away, and he drew a cold breath. His muscles tightened.
Trouble. Trouble. Deep black evil.
Trouble. Trouble. Deep black evil.
As the chant faded, a cold shadow fell over Zhane, and he knew, even before he heard the rushing of a waterfall and led the company up the hidden path into the Green World. He knew, even as he touched their heads and counted them as he passed. Eliesmore and Optimistic. Yamier and Wekin. Dathiem and Glashar. Ellagine and Visra. He knew as he waited, his eyes widening as he looked back out. “Arldrine!” he shouted, letting his voice carry across the mountains. She wasn’t there. His chest heaved as he grabbed Ellagine’s shoulder. “Was she with us? Did she come with us?”
Ellagine’s face fell; all signs of her pale green glimmer were gone. “She’s gone, Zhane,” she whispered.
“No.” Zhane shook his head in disbelief. “No.”
“Zhane, come rest,” Dathiem called.
“I can’t!” Zhane snapped, a growing fury rising wi
thin him.
He walked back to the entrance, shielding his eyes as he looked back out the way they had come. He hoped to see her creeping through the mud, coming to join them. But he knew it was too late, she was already gone.
73
Zhane
Zhane stood above the waterfall, watching the water descend. It was a reminder, despite the unfortunate circumstances, that he had to be like the rushing waters; he had to move on. He cursed under his breath. He was still unable to believe Arldrine had disappeared from his life. He wanted to do right by her; he had meant to cherish and protect her, yet before he could make those vows, she had been ripped away. His fingers twitched. He needed to shed blood. He needed to fight.
“Zhane.” Dathiem strode up beside him, crossing his arms.
“You wouldn’t have any more wine by any chance?” Zhane asked, glancing at his friend.
Dathiem bit his tongue. “Nay. I wish we’d loaded a barrel to drag behind us as we marched. This day would not appear as bleak.”
Zhane nodded, wishing for the small comfort of a drink. “You and I have seen much good and evil.”
“Aye.” Dathiem reached out, clasping a hand on Zhane’s shoulder. “This is an unfortunate turn of events. We can go back and search…”
“I am tempted,” Zhane admitted. “We made a vow; we go forward. We are close to the Constel Heights.”
Dathiem dropped his hand. His eyes were drawn to the waters.
“Do you still think ill of the Iaen?” Zhane prompted.
Dathiem’s head snapped up, his dark eyes wide as a blush began to cover his cheeks. “The Iaen?”
“Yes, months ago when we started out you made dark allegations against them,” Zhane spread his hands as if it would jog Dathiem’s memory.
Dathiem pulled his long braid over his shoulder. Unlike Zhane, he’d never cut his hair. “You were right, Zhane; there is nothing to fear from them, especially now. They have lost their powers here in the west. I’d say Eliesmore is free from their designs.”
“Good.” Zhane gave a sigh of relief. “I hoped you would say as much. There is enough to deal with here without you going on a killing spree.”
“Those days are done.” Dathiem scowled.
“I am glad to hear those words from you,” Zhane repeated. He glanced down into the water again. “Let me sit here with my grief for a time; I must move past this before I am able to lead us on.”
Dathiem reached out, and the two shared a quick embrace.
“I am sorry, my friend,” Dathiem whispered.
74
Dathiem
Dathiem sat miserably on a rocky ledge. Below him, a waterfall poured down into one of the seven rivers that led to Oceantic. Green grass surrounded him with generous trees that reached to higher ledges. The air was pure and sweet; it was a beacon of balmy hope. He felt useless. The company had mourned, their voices blending in a wild lament, although none could share Zhane’s grief. The four Crons would miss their strong friend, yet no one would miss Idrithar and Arldrine like Zhane did. They were his closest and longest companions, aside from Dathiem.
Dathiem lifted his long braid to cut it off, knowing he should express his grief. In the tradition of a Tider, when a great calamity came, they cut their hair off as a sign of respect. He sighed, recalling the time he’d traveled with Zhane and Idrithar. They had been together at the Green World after bearing the cold of the mountains, and they had laughed when they found warmth, food, and good fortune. The world had been dark during those days; the One had not risen, but the Rakhai had not either. The Changers still ruled, and yet they found joy in their discoveries. Without warning, it was over. Joy was torn out of their grasp, and they were doomed to move on in secret and in sorrow.
The sound of a step brought Dathiem out of his brooding, dark thoughts. Glashar walked toward him. He opened his arms as he felt his heart expanding. When she was with him, everything felt pure, whole, and right. He did not know how to explain the intensity of his feelings for her, so he showed her instead.
“Glashar.” He inhaled her light scent, folding her fragile body into his arms and holding her tight.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself onto his lap until their faces were even.
“Don’t cut it off.” She touched his long braid. “I like your hair long.”
His lips caressed her cheek before he responded. “It is my right to honor those who are lost.”
“I understand.” Her jeweled eyes met his, allowing him to see the sadness behind them. “Dathiem, we could leave now. This quest is taking everything away from us. We can return east and build a life together.”
He took a deep breath, twining their fingers together. He was careful not to jar her injured shoulder. He’d noticed the shadow that came over her fair features; her golden glow had diminished. The Iaens were too far from home, and he could see the negative effects taking over. He pulled her closer, feeling her quick heartbeat.
“I can’t leave yet; Zhane has lost everything. We have not reached the Constel Heights. We are close.”
Glashar stiffened in his arms. “I felt like Zhane once,” she offered, “when the Rakhai came through the forests of Shimla and destroyed my home, killing everyone. I used all my powers to heal, leaving nothing but a shell of myself until I found you. Zhane will find himself again; he will find his hope.”
“Yes, I have no doubt, but we must stand with him. What kind of White Steeds would we be if we left?” Dathiem bent his head, letting their foreheads touch. “I admit, when I first met Eliesmore, I did not believe in him. After these months of travel, I’m beginning to see why he was chosen. He is not who I expected to be the One; I think there is a reason why that is the case. He holds his own strength. Once we reach the Constel Heights and the Green Stone is dissolved, I will go with you wherever your heart desires.”
She kissed him hard. She pulled back to smile at him. “Then you don’t believe our love is cursed?”
He felt a brief flicker of fear and opened his mouth to tell her who he was and what he was. He changed his mind at the happy and hopeful expression on her face. “I care not what others may think, and I care not for curses.”
He parted her thighs with one hand before covering her mouth with his, feeling their passion heighten as they entwined.
75
Eliesmore
White sands stretched before them as the Green Company, only nine companions descended from the Cascade Mountain Range in the desert of Monoxie. They were close. With every footstep, Eliesmore expected to see the great stone towers of the Constel Heights. The air was dry. They were smothered in heat as they walked. The company was downcast with weary hearts. Months ago, they had set out. They had come through many dangers only to lose two companions in the end. It was heartbreaking. Even Eliesmore could not understand why his friends did not fall at the hands of the Rakhai. Were not the Rakhai sent by the Changers to hunt them down? Why did they stay their hand? What were they waiting for?
Yamier and Wekin trudged along without making remarks about bacon. It had been a while since they’d complained about the lack of food. The lack of water was a more pressing issue. Zhane had made them refill the water skins in the Green World until they had enough to last for two weeks; still, he did not seem pleased. As they walked through the desert, clothes wrapped around their nose and mouths, Eliesmore understood. His cloak seemed to shrink and grow thin against the heat, protecting his skin yet remaining light on his body, whereas it had turned into a thick fur during their journey through the mountains. Nevertheless, Eliesmore constantly found himself sweating and parched.
One day, as they were eating the second meal, Glashar lept up on a rock and stared east. “They are coming.” Her voice quivered with excitement.
Eliesmore turned. Glashar looked like a picture with her bow in one hand and the desert wind blowing her long, golden hair. “Who are?” He lifted his eyes to the sky, seeing only an endless canopy of blue.
“They are.” Glashar did not move. “Those sent from Spherical Land in the Western World. They will be here soon.”
“Do you see them?” Eliesmore questioned, searching the sky for a dark blur.
“No.” Glashar shook her head. “I just know; they will be here soon.”
“Did you hear?” Eliesmore called to his companions. “Help is coming. We will no longer have to fight alone.”
Zhane turned around. He had a bow in one hand and a lost expression on his face. He nodded and repeated, “They are coming.”
Glashar climbed down from the rock while Eliesmore took her place. “Listen,” he called to them. “Listen. I know this quest has been hard. I know each of you has given your all because this quest demands it from you. I, myself, did not know what it would take to bring us here, to the brink of salvation. All I ask is that you do not give up; do not lose hope right here at the end. Our hearts have been downcast, but we have to remember why we choose this path. We are the few and the brave. We are doing this not for ourselves, but for the greater good. I would see days of peace come to these lands, and I know you would, too. I refuse to believe we have come this far in vain. Let us not lose hope, not when we are this close to the end.”
Zhane spun to face Eliesmore, clasping a hand to his chest and then raising it. Dathiem moved beside him, following his example.
“Well said,” Zhane spoke, raising his bow. “Let's go. The Black Steeds await our presence in the Constel Heights.”
Optimistic clasped a hand on Eliesmore’s shoulder. “We do have good memories. But Eliesmore, this quest is only the beginning.”
The Complete Four Worlds Series Page 101
