Moonstone

by Jake Allen Coleman

  As Baladeva approached, Sebastian’s feeling of dread grew stronger and gooseflesh raised on his arms. It felt as though icy spiders were crawling over all over his body. He was certain Baladeva would not be able to see him in the shadows, but even that was a small comfort. Who knew what unnatural arts the Krenon might be able to use to locate them.

  In the lane below the window, the robed figure reached their sanctuary. Sebastian’s heart froze as he paused just outside their door. His head swiveled first right, then left and he looked up at the windows of the building. Sebastian dared not move as he felt their eyes lock. The man’s icy gaze pierced deep into his very soul.

  Abruptly, Baladeva broke off and began moving forward again. Sebastian started breathing again. Apparently the man hadn’t seen him after all. Sebastian watched as the Krenon completed his circuit of the promenade and moved off down one of the main thoroughfares. Staring after Baladeva, he wanted to be sure that the Krenon wasn’t going to double back. Satisfied, Sebastian made his way back to where Krystelle waited with the unconscious Cenric. “He’s gone.”

  “Are you certain? You had me worried, you were gone so long.”

  “I’m certain. He stopped right outside and for a moment I thought he saw me watching. I don’t think he’ll be back through here. It will take him a long time to search the entire city and I don’t think he dare use magic here to find us. How is Cenric?”

  She turned back to the boy. “There’s no fever, so that’s good. The wound was grievous, but there is a power about this place that breathes life and vitality. He is on the edge and I am not certain yet if he will survive.”

  “The wound is that bad?”

  “It is. Had we not stopped when we did he would already be dead, of that I am certain.”

  Sebastian brushed Cenric’s disheveled hair out of his face. “His skin is cold and clammy. Poor lad. He’s been through so much and come so far. How many will have to die because of Baladeva and the Krenon I wonder? It was brave of Eimhin to attack in that fashion, but I fear he will not have survived.”

  “He knew what he was getting into and what he was giving his life for. It was also brave of you to come back.”

  “Your words stuck a nerve. I never knew it, but deep down I’ve been searching my whole life to find out about my father. My aunt and uncle would never speak of him and then to find out like that…and that I had killed him. It was all too much.”

  “But you did come back.”

  “I did. If there’s one thing my uncle taught me it was that I alone am responsible for who I am and what I do. He was a hard man, who brooked no excuses. I wonder if he was even really my uncle.”

  “I truly don’t think that matters. He was more of a father to you than Gerlach Pwyll could ever have been and I believe he loved you.”

  “Krystelle?” he took her hand. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Believing in me. Believing that I could do this. Believing that I would come back.”

  “Thank you for proving me right Sebastian.” The two stood there for a long moment before Krystelle pulled away, turning back to Cenric. “I think we have another problem though.”

  “Another problem?”

  “Remember in the Aodhan Bret, the high council debated who they should send on this quest? They spoke of a bloodline. I’ve often heard rumors of the bloodline of which they spoke. The lore says that only one of that lineage can retrieve the Moonstone. I think Cenric is of that heritage. Without him, I fear we are doomed to fail.”

  “I refuse to believe there is no hope. There must be a way! We can’t have come this far to fail. At first light I will venture out into the city and we’ll see.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  It was nearly dawn before Sebastian woke again. He slept easier knowing that Baladeva had already passed their refuge. This time when he woke there was no feeling of dread consuming him. Instead, he felt an irrational kernel of hope. Cenric, of course, still slumbered and appeared at peace, as did Krystelle. For many days there had been a tightness between them, and today he felt that tension had lessoned.

  He took a moment to drink in the image of Krystelle in the starlight. She had been so cold toward him since the Dazhberg. Before that, if he were honest with himself. Since he had brought her back from the brink at Cinaeth. He indulged himself for the briefest of moments, considering all that she had said to him over the last 24 hours. It meant a lot that she believed in him. In a way, her faith made him feel like Adelwolf was smiling down on him a bit. Rising from the chair he shifted over to check on Cenric. There was no change. The boy’s skin was still cold and clammy to the touch.

  Satisfied that Cenric was in no immediate danger, he made his way back to the stairs leading to the second floor of the residence. He was sure now that was what it was. He passed back into the same room from earlier that night and stepped over to the window to look out over the promenade.

  The promenade was deserted, just as it had been when they first happened upon it. He wondered what this place had been like so many years ago before the Elves had departed. It was lonely in this deserted elven city that should have been a place of life and light and laughter.

  Turning away from the window, Sebastian was not surprised to find a man standing behind him. He had never seen a man so beautiful and beautiful was the right word. The light of a thousand stars illuminated his long silver hair and porcelain features. Was he dreaming or was this really happening? Sebastian couldn’t tell. All he knew was that the sight of this man brought a peace to his heart he had not felt in a lifetime.

  “Hello Sebastian Pwyll.” His voice sang, filling every corner of the room.

  “Who…who are you?”

  “Among my people I am known as Nynniaw.”

  “How do you know my name?”

  “I have seen you from afar in ages long past. I have known you and known you would visit us here in Ha’vehl’on in this dark hour.”

  “But…how?”

  “I am not truly here, in your world. I am a…remnant, a fragment of thought and memory left behind when our people left your world. We wept at our passing but knew we must guarantee the peace and safety of man in accordance with the precepts of the Ban. We had to honor that to honor you. Yet we left ourselves places like this city to maintain continuity between your world and ours. There is much I would tell you, yet our time is short. You seek the Eligius Ealadha, do you not?” Sebastian could only nod.

  “There is a vast lake at the heart of the city. The Moonstone can be found on the island in the center of that lake. Find the lake and you will find what you seek. ”

  “Find the lake. I understand. But Cenric is the one who must recover the Moonstone. He is the one.”

  “No Sebastian. You must trust yourself and trust what is in your own heart. Listen for the song, it will guide you.”

  “The song? I don’t understand.”

  “My time is short or I would explain all. Listen for the song. That is all you need to know.”

  “What about Baladeva? He is here, in the city.”

  “There was a time when the one you know as Baladeva could have heard the song and found the stone. That time is past. He has become deceived and no longer has ears to hear. Just trust yourself. Do you understand?”

  “I do.” He paused, “My friend, Cenric, is gravely injured. Can you help him? Can you heal him?”

  “His healing may yet come, but it will not be by my hand. For now, I must go. The answers you seek are within you. Perhaps we will meet again one day. I hope it will be so.”

  With that the man faded from view. Sebastian sat for a long while contemplating the words the strange apparition had spoken. What did it all mean? What was the song? The first rays of the morning danced across the floor and brought a warm glow to the chamber, breaking him free of his reverie.

  Rising, he made his way back down the stairs and laid his hand on Cenric’s brow. It seemed a lifetime since he had checked on the boy last
, yet he knew it had been but a brief span. Satisfied that the boy continued to sleep peacefully, he turned to Krystelle.

  Taking her hand, he whispered her name. “Krystelle?” Eyes fluttering open, she looked up at him. “Krystelle, I must go. I know how to find the Moonstone.”

  Groggily, she pulled herself to a seated position, “What? How?” she murmured.

  “I must go. Keep watch over Cenric and keep him safe. I will return soon.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Venturing back out into the promenade, Sebastian breathed in the morning air. It was fresh and clean with no hint of the foulness left over from Baladeva the previous night. He looked about, searching for direction. Which way to the lake? Where was the center of this mighty city?

  In their twisting and turning the night before, Sebastian had lost track of the way and wasn’t even sure where to find the gate by which they had entered the city. Not that there was any way of knowing if the physical location of that gate had any relation to the city center or borders.

  The strange man had told him to trust himself, so that’s what he would have to do. He started walking, opposite the direction that Baladeva had gone in his investigation of the promenade. He passed several houses and was as much in awe of them in the morning light as he had been in starlight. There was a thickness to the daylight that was unlike anything he had experienced.

  A single note. That’s all he heard, one single note. He stopped, pausing to see if he could catch the note again. It had rung clear as a bell for an instant and then it was gone. Swiveling his head, he heard it again. A single note. He had it now.

  He followed that note down a side lane that wound its way out from the promenade. He could not say that he really heard the note as much as felt it deep inside. Nevertheless, he followed it for a quarter of an hour. Sometimes it would rise and sometimes fall, but it was always there, leading him on.

  Once he had heard a group of players prepare to play in his village and this reminded him somewhat of that. It was as if a concert were about to begin, and he buzzed with anticipation to hear the music that was on the verge of bursting forth.

  A second note. The two danced along with him now, leading him forward. It drew him along inciting a desire to run, but he was afraid he would overshoot the music. A third note. Then a fourth. They were coming faster now. A melody began to play in his mind. Music as he had never experienced. It pulled him along building to crescendo.

  As the song peaked he passed around a corner to the sight of a magnificent lake rimmed with a band of oak trees and grass that went right to the water line. There was a small island in the center of the lake a few dozen yards from the shore.

  The moment he caught sight of the island, the music fell silent. A breeze rustled in the treetops and caused small waves to lap at the shore, but there was no other sound. He scarcely dared to breathe, not wanting to disturb the tranquility of this place. He had heard men tell stories of cathedrals from far off and he had seen the magnificence of the Aodhan Bret for himself, but this place had a grandeur that far surpassed anything built by the hand of man.

  Untying the laces of his boots he pulled them off, setting them to one side. Wriggling his toes, the grass felt moist and alive between them. He unbuckled his sword belt and suspended it from a nearby branch that seemed just suited to the task. Removing his tunic and breeches, there was a place for them too. Had the trees shifted to the need or had they already been formed that way? He was not sure.

  In his small-clothes now, he made his way to the edge and dipped in a single toe. With the chill night air, he expected the water to be equally frigid. Delighted to find the water comfortably warm, he walked out into the lake, first to his ankles, then knees, then to his waist. Immersing himself fully, he pushed off the lake floor to begin pulling hard toward the island.

  Minerals in the water buoyed Sebastian as he swam and, rather than tiring, swimming out to the island refreshed him. It wasn’t long until his foot hit bottom again and, putting both feet down, he walked onto the shore.

  A few paces from where he emerged from the water stood a small, stone shrine. It was the first construction he had seen in Ha’vehl’on that was clearly made of rock. The symbol of the crescent moon was chiseled in the face of the shrine’s door. Below that engraving, indecipherable characters were carved in the rock. The words were in no language Sebastian had ever seen.

  At long last! This had to be the place. Sebastian took three steps over and pushed against the door. Nothing happened. He pushed again, harder this time. Still there was nothing. Bracing himself in the sod, he leaned his shoulder to the door and heaved against it to no avail. Taking a step back, he cupped his chin in his hand in thought.

  “What now?” he said to no one in particular. “Nynniaw didn’t say anything about a door.” Coming closer, he inspected the outline of the door, looking for any hint of how to open it. There was a seam, but no handle, no keyhole, and no way to gain leverage. One more time he wedged his shoulder to the door, dug in his feet, and pushed. Still nothing. Pivoting until his back was against the wall, he slid down to his seat.

  Sitting with his back to the door, he banged his head against it several times. Wincing, he pressed his hand to the back of his head where it hit the stone and breathed out a sigh. “Think Sebastian!” What had Nynniaw told him? Trust yourself. He stood once again and pressed his hand against the door, squeezing his eyes closed. Focusing his thought on the door, he visualized it opening. After a moment he peeked out with one eye. Nothing.

  “OPEN!” Apparently, shouting at it did not work either.

  Stepping back, he looked around the island for some clue as to his next step. The rest of the island was a grassy knoll, with nothing to indicate a different course of action. He had to get into that shrine!

  Looking at the words engraved below the moon carving, he felt that there was something familiar about them now. He couldn’t read them, at least not exactly. Yet, as he scrutinized them, understanding seeped into his consciousness. He didn’t know how or why, but he knew what the words meant.

  Herein lies the Eligius Ealadha. Held in trust, binding the elder race to the younger. The key lies within you.

  “’The key lies within you’? Trust yourself? Why can’t these elves just speak plainly?” He wished Krystelle were here to talk this through, or even Cenric. He was out of ideas and at least Cenric understood elven magic.

  Sebastian slammed his hand against the door. It glanced off the engraving of the moon and he felt a sharp pain in his palm. Turning his hand over, blood oozed out of a cut caused by the jagged edge of the carving.

  He considered his bloody hand for a moment and then shifted his gaze back to the door. “It’s worth a shot.” Sebastian pressed his palm firmly against the door, letting the blood seep down into the crevices of the moon carving. He watched the blood draw itself into the carving and then begin to make its way UP and around, taking on a life of its own. From nowhere, more seeped out of the rock to fill the words with a red glow.

  With a growling from deep in the earth, the door pivoted inward, revealing a chamber within. Stepping into the chamber, he found that the room inside was much larger than it appeared from without. He took a step back and peered around the side of the shrine. Shaking his head, he walked into the chamber. The room was ten times as big on the inside as it was on the outside and, in the center, stood a sort of altar. A single stone rested on top of the altar.

  It looked nothing like the Eligius Siothrun, but it had to be the Moonstone. Laying in a velvet pillow, the Eligius Ealadha was perfectly round and colored with a shifting milky blue. Even from his vantage point at the door, it appeared to him that the stone was alive with clouds of deeper blue moving about the surface. Walking over, Sebastian took hold of the stone with both hands. Finally! The Moonstone was his.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Sebastian burst into the house where he had left Krystelle and Cenric. Startled, she spun to her feet, grabbing for
her sword. He skidded to a stop just shy of her blade. “Whoa!” he cautioned.

  “Sebastian!” lowering her blade she embraced him in a quick hug. “You’re back! You startled me. I thought…”

  “I know. You thought He had found you. I’m sorry. I should have given warning.”

  “Is that it? Is that the Moonstone?” Nodding, he held the stone up for her to see. “It’s beautiful, but it’s so different from the Sunstone. How did you know where to find it?”

  Sebastian relayed the story of everything that had happened to him that morning, beginning with meeting Nynniaw in the room upstairs, the song, the lake and island, his frustrations trying to open the door to the shrine, and finally recovering the Moonstone from its sanctuary. They laughed together for a moment when he explained how he had accidentally cut himself and subsequently gained access to the shrine.

  “I still don’t completely understand why it was my blood that opened the door,” he said. “I should have thought it would be Cenric’s.”

  “It does not matter. The important thing is that we’ve recovered the Moonstone. We can return it to the Dazhberg. The Krenon will be defeated! Was there any sign of them in the city?”

  “None. At first I feared turning a corner and finding Beladeva, but the stronger the music became, the less I worried. How is Cenric?”

  “Cenric! I don’t know how I forgot…he’s not good, Sebastian. Fever has set in and there’s nothing more I can think of to help him.”

  Moving over to where Cenric lay, Sebastian placed his hand on the boy’s forehead. “He’s burning up!” He looked back at Krystelle, “This is bad. Very bad. I knew a boy once in the village who was attacked by a sabre cat. He took a deep wound, but the healers worked hard to nurse him. They thought he would recover, but then the fever set in just like this. Once it did, he died within hours.”