“Is that any way to greet an old friend?”
Krystelle recognized the voice this time, “Eimhin?”
“Ay, lass. ‘Tis me. Now, can you lend me a hand here?” The three of them rushed to his side as the diminutive man collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
Krystelle reached the dwarf first and rolled him to his back. Pulling a handkerchief from her cloak, she wiped the grime from his face. “He’s in bad shape. Sebastian, some water. Quickly now.” He sprinted back to their saddlebags to fetch a bladder. “Cenric, how are your skills at Healing?”
“Master Cormac never let me practice Healing very much. He said it was too dangerous for a novice like me. He said that the wizards would show me Healing on the isles.”
“Then we must care for him with more traditional means. Sebastian…the water!”
“I did try to heal a bird with a broken wing once though.”
Krystelle tool the water bladder from Sebastian and, holding his head up, dribbled some between Eimhin’s parched lips. “A bird? That’s something at least. Did you succeed?”
“Well, not exactly.”
“How not exactly?”
“I fixed the bird’s wing, but he died the next day. I think I know what I did wrong though.”
Eimhin drifted back to consciousness and reached for the water bladder. “More,” he said.
“Slowly now,” Krystelle continued to trickle water into Eimhin’s mouth. “Cenric, I think we had best not risk it. We’ve already seen how unstable your magic is within the Ansetl-lea.”
With the water, Eimhin made his way back to lucidity and Krystelle supported him as he moved to a sitting position. “Ah, lass…that’s good. I’m alright, just been running the better part of two hours. Now, help me up and let’s get me some of that rabbit you’ve got burning there.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Settling around the fire Eimhin devoured a good portion from one of the two rabbits, leaving the remainder for Krystelle, Sebastian, and Cenric to share. “I thank you for not letting the boy test his arts on me. It was not apt to work here in the Ansetl-lea.” He shuddered and spat, “Elven magic all ‘round puts a bad taste in the mouth. Now, why do you sit here at the gate?”
Cenric piped up, “We’re waiting for the moon!”
“What he means is we believe the gate to Ha’vehl’on will reveal itself with the moonlight,” said Krystelle. “What happened to you? How did you come to be here?”
“Aye, that makes a bit o’ sense. As for what happened to me, that’s a tale. Main thing you need to know is the Krenon master, Baladeva, is on ‘is way here. He canna’ be more then half an hour behind me now. The rest can wait ‘till we make it through to the city.”
“Baladeva is coming here? How?” said Krystelle.
“He’ll have tracked me, that’s how.”
“Then why did you come? Fool! You’ve led him right to us!”
“Fool am I? He captured me at the Dazhberg and would like to have killed me had I not shown value. Leastways this way you’ve some warning, and I don’t die for refusing him. He’d have found you one way or ‘nother, with or without my help. You’ve a stain on you and that’s a fact!”
“Why you…” Sebastian exploded at the man and Krystelle managed to deflect his fist before he could strike him.
“That’s not helpful Sebastian. Now, what do you mean he has a ‘stain’?”
“Are you both daft? Have you not figured it out yet? You think the council was worried about you just because you killed Gerlach Pwyll? You didna’ just kill some black wizard, you kilt yer own father and to a Krenon that leaves a stain on a man’s soul!”
“What are you talking about?” Sebastian fumed.
“Do I have to spell it out for you boy? Gerlach Pwyll was your father. The council know’d it to be true, and to make matters worse you done it with magic.”
Sebastian stared at the dwarf, his jaw open. “What do you mean Gerlach Pwyll was my father? That’s not possible!”
“’Tis more than possible, lad. Tell ‘im Krystelle.”
Looking at Krystelle, Sebastian did not even have to ask the question. He could see the answer all over her face. It was true and she had known the whole time. They had all known and no one had said a word to him. It felt like a dagger was going right through his heart and his stomach contracted into a tight knot. He could not look at her, nor stand the pity he saw in her eyes. Stumbling away from the fire, Sebastian turned and ran into the forest.
He ran a few hundred yards from the glade and collapsed next to an old, fallen trunk. Head cradled in his hands, he sobbed. Everything Eimhin had said resonated in his soul. As much as he wanted to deny it, he knew it was all true. It answered so many questions and created a whole set of new ones.
He had been there a short while when he heard Krystelle approaching. “Sebastian?” she said, her voice filled with emotion.
“You should have told me,” he said, glaring at her. “Was it really all just coincidence? You finding me that day, Adelwolf living so close to me, everything? I can’t help but think that he was there to watch me and put me down should I prove to be just like my father.”
“Honestly, I do not know. Quiren Adelwolf kept his own council. He was the most secretive of the High Council and went into seclusion in Taleros many years ago. You may be right, maybe I should have told you. Does it really make any difference now? You are a part of this.”
“Go away.”
“I can’t do that, Sebastian. We need you.”
He looked up at her through tear-filled eyes, “Need me? I killed my own father in cold blood. How could you possibly need someone like me?”
“There’s no way you could have known Pwyll was your father.”
“I should have known. I should have seen it. This is why the council refused me. They know what I am. I’m just like him.”
“You’re not just like him! Do you think Gerlach Pwyll would have shed a tear for you? Can you really be that naïve? He would have cut you down where you stood and never looked back. I was there in the Aodhan Bret too, and I heard what Lord Teoma said. He said you needed time to ‘overcome the darkness’ in you. I know Lord Teoma and I know that if you were beyond redemption he would have sent you away right then and there. He didn’t do that. He saw something good in you.”
“What if he’s wrong? What if I am beyond redemption? What if I am nothing but my father’s son?”
“I refuse to believe that. I was there at Cinaeth. I saw your bravery there. I watched as you grieved for Quiren Adelwolf. I’ve heard you mourn for your family. You have a good heart Sebastian. It’s a wounded heart, but it’s a good one. Your uncle raised you, not Gerlach Pwyll and none of Pwyll’s actions are a reflection of you! You can’t help who your father was, but you can choose your own path. ”
Tears momentarily forgotten, Sebastian blinked at her passionate tirade as it washed over him.
“Now you have a choice. You can cower and run away. You can let this knowledge eat at your soul until it consumes you. You can become just like your father. A coward and a villain. Many men do just that. The one who would do that is no man in my accounting. I think you’re better than that. I think you’re brave and good and honorable. No…I know you are. You pretend irritation with Cenric, but I’ve seen you with him when you let that guard down. I saw you carry him on your back and nurse him to health, looking after him night after night when you thought I was asleep. You can rise above the fact of your birth and become a true leader like Teoma, or your uncle, or my father. The man who would do that I could admire. No more excuses. No more wallowing in your own self-pity. You choose. Either you come back to the Ansetl-lea to help us retrieve the Moonstone or you leave and I never see your face again.”
Storming away, she refused even to look back to see the impact of her words. Sebastian stood, drew back his shoulders, wiped the tears from his face with his sleeve, and started walking.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
E
ntering the clearing, Krystelle found Cenric dispersing the ashes from their fire while Eimhin rested. “Krystelle! It’s almost moonrise and Eimhin has been telling me all about the attack on the fortress. The wizards put a lock around the Aodhan Bret and I think we’ll need the Moonstone to open it again. He collapsed the tunnel we went through, but they caught him anyway…” he trailed off.
“Lass, by the look on your face I’m guessing it didn’t go well with Sebastian?”
“I don’t know. I might have gotten through to him, but it was a hard blow.”
“Aye, I let the moment get away from me. ‘Twas not my place to put that on him. Not like that.”
“It would have come to light eventually. Not long ago he asked me himself what I knew and I refused to say. He will either return or he will not. It is out of our hands. Now, it seems the sun is setting and our time has come. I pray we were right about the gate.”
“As do I my dear, as do I. Baladeva’ll be on us soon. You best be gone into the city afore he arrives.”
“Are you abandoning us again Eimhin? That didn’t go quite so well last time if I recall.”
“I’ll not enter some Elven city. I doubt I even could with their gimickry. No, I’ll remain here to guard your back and delay the Krenon if I can.” He spat into the earth to show what he thought of the Krenon.
“You are a brave man, Eimhin. And a good friend.”
Eimhin bowed his head and saluted Krystelle. “I’ve served the council for many a year. If by my life or death I can ensure you succeed, then I serve them one more time.”
Walking over to the tree in the center of the glade, they prepared to wait the final minutes until the gate would be revealed. The sun had fully set and the tree was shrouded in darkness. As the moon rose above the tree line, its light illuminated the heart-tree. Coming alive in the light of the moon, it’s branches twisted and creaked. The boughs curved down, new leaves sprouting in abundance. In moments, the branches and leaves formed an arbor surrounding a shimmering pool of moonlight.
Krystelle gasped, “It’s beautiful.”
“Elven tomfoolery,” grumbled Eimhin. “Can’t just make a normal gate out of rock and stone. Have to have all this nonsense. On your way, quickly now.”
Picking up the remains of their gear, Krystelle and Cenric bade goodbye to the man. “Fare you well Eimhin. For everything you have done, we thank you and I hope our paths will cross again someday.”
“How very sweet,” the oily voice sent a shudder down Krystelle’s spine as a chill washed over her. Turning from the gate she found Baladeva and two soldiers entering the glade. Turning to his guards, he gestured at the three. “Take them.”
Drawing their swords, the two started moving forward as Sebastian burst from the tree line behind them. “Get to the gate!” He hurled himself at the two guards, sword whirling. Eimhin pushed Cenric towards the gate and moved to intercept Baladeva, who was stalking forward.
With surprise on his side, Sebastian dispatched the two guards and joined Krystelle and Cenric at the gate. Behind them, Baladeva bowed his head, pressing his palms together tightly in a form of prayer. A bolt of lightning crashed toward the gate, threatening to cut off their escape route. Seeing the attack coming, Eimhin barreled into Baladeva in an attempt to deflect the volley. It struck Cenric a glancing blow just as Sebastian pulled him through the gate.
Rolling away from Baladeva, Eimhin struggled to his feet. It was just him and the Krenon leader facing off. “Not so tough without your lackey’s, are ye?” the dwarf snarled.
Baladeva rose, ignoring Eimhin and shaking out his red robe to remove the dirt and debris. Turning, he glared at the dwarf. “You have outlived your usefulness,” he said, steel in his voice. “You will be cleansed.” Eimhin screamed as his bones turned to liquid fire. Leaving the dwarf’s smoldering body behind, Baladeva stalked to the silver gate, passing through in pursuit of Sebastian and the others.
CHAPTER TWENTY
“Move!” Sebastian slung Cenric across his shoulders and ran down the lane, Krystelle tight on his heels. It was twilight in the elven city, yet there was no moon. The streets and building were awash with the light of a thousand stars reflecting from smooth surfaces. It was strange what he noticed in those first moments in Ha’vehl’on, every sense on alert. There were no sharp corners anywhere to be seen, the lanes meandered like forest trails and the buildings virtually grew from the earth like massive trees. It was difficult to see where buildings began and the gardens ended. Water was everywhere, brooks and waterfalls incorporated seamlessly into the architecture.
Save for the trickling of the water, the city was completely silent and devoid of life. Sebastian had half expected to find a thriving elven metropolis. This city was empty and vacant. The solitude was weighty as their boots echoed on cobblestones. It was not some ruined city, collapsing into dust from years of disuse. Rather, it seemed to him that everyone had gone on holiday just the day before and would be back tomorrow. It was a city that waited.
Darting down side streets and back up alleys, they searched for a place to hide. Baladeva would surely give chase and they needed to be out of sight. He had followed them this far, and Sebastian could only hope that the Krenon could not track them through through the deserted city. A part of him knew that to be true. He did not know how, he just knew that there was something different here. Remembering Philon’s advice, he decided all he could do was trust his own gut. Distantly he worried over Eimhin and what would become of the man. This was twice he had saved them. They owed him a debt.
Empty windows stared back at him as they passed building after building, but none felt quite right as a hiding place. The lane opened up into an egg-shaped promenade. Larger buildings lined the perimeter and a manicured garden filled the interior space. He wondered who was keeping the gardens with the elves gone.
There it was. There was nothing to distinguish it from any other building they had seen. He had no reference point to know how the elves had used the structure. It might have been a market, or a home, or even some sort of factory. All he knew was it was where they needed to hide. Knew it down to his very soul. He led Krystelle inside and laid Cenric’s body gently on a divan in the front room.
Even here, inside the building, it was difficult to know what was nature and what was construction. The divan could as easily have been an earthen mound shaped in the form of an elegant piece of furniture. It felt like moss and gave way slightly under Cenric’s weight.
“Tend to his wound. I’m going to have a look around,” he said.
Krystelle knelt beside Cenric as Sebastian peered around the corner. Creeping into the next room, he had his sword in hand. He was not sure what he was looking for, but could almost feel a presence in this place. If he had to guess, he would have said that it was the home of some important personage in the elven nation.
Sebastian returned with a bundle of clean cloth, a water pitcher and a basket of herbs. His sword was back in its sheathe. “I think this was a home. I found these laid out in the next room. It was like someone left them there for us. These will aid in the healing. Moisten them and pack the wound and then bind it with the cloth.”
“This is bad,” she said. “Luckily the wound itself was clean, but it was deep. Had the blast struck Cenric directly he would likely be dead. There is little I can do for him, but keep him comfortable. I fear he will not last the night.”
Sebastian stared down at the injured Cenric. If there was any hope for him, it would come from being in this place. For all that the Ansetl-lea had been electric with elven magic, this place overflowed with it. That thought gave him hope. “Here, your best will be enough,” he said, “I’m going to have a look around this place.”
Watching him go, Krystelle wondered at the change she sensed. It seemed her words had the desired effect to pull him out of his melancholy. She only hoped it would stick. Shaking her head, she turned back to Cenric. Following Sebastian’s instructions she ministered to the injury. It wasn�
�t much, but it was all she had.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Krystelle and Sebastian held vigil over Cenric through the long night. Not daring to light a fire for fear of alerting Baladeva to their position, they sat quietly in the dim starlight illuminating the room through glass windows. Periodically, Krystelle examined Cenric’s dressings and felt his head to be sure the fever had not returned. In those moments, Sebastian peered out into the promenade for any sign of the Krenon. In silent agreement they knew that it would not be wise to attempt to move Cenric deeper into the dwelling, so they risked the front room. If Baladeva was going to find them, it would not be through natural means. Sebastian wondered if he was putting Krystelle and Cenric at risk simply by remaining there, but he would not abandon them.
Late in the night, Sebastian started awake. He hadn’t intended to fall asleep. Looking over, he saw Krystelle slumbering also. He did not know what had awoken him, and a cold dread took hold of his heart. Quieter than a mouse, he moved to the window to steal a look outside. There, across the promenade a figure moved slowly past the buildings. He would be to theirs in a matter of minutes.
He crept back over to where Krystelle slept and gently covered her mouth, resting his other hand on her arm. Her eyes snapped open and she tensed. Sebastian put a finger to his lips, gesturing for her to be silent and removed his hand. She mouthed a single word, “Baladeva?” He nodded and gestured to Cenric. It seemed they had to risk moving him after all. As gently as they could, the two of them lifted Cenric and carried him into the next room.
Sebastian leaned his head close to hers, “Wait with him.” He moved to a winding stair leading to the chambers above. At the top, he entered the main front room overlooking the promenade and crept to the window. Standing back out of the starlight, he could just see the Krenon making his way around the perimeter; drawing closer to their hiding place with every step.
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