Bloodfire Quest (5 page)

Though it wasn’t one she had asked for.

Taking a deep breath, she crept into the gardens and up to the tree. She stood beneath its canopy and stared, momentarily entranced by its perfect beauty. She waited for the tree to respond, blinking against the brilliant wash of starlight that spilled out of the night sky and streamed through the silver and crimson limbs.

Finally, she knelt, bowing her head in open acknowledgment of her position as a servant to the order of the Chosen. She closed her eyes and waited patiently, hardly daring to breathe, listening to the beating of her heart.

Then a slender branch brushed her shoulder, and the familiar voice whispered inside her head.

–You are returned to me, child–

Arling shuddered. “I am returned.”

–You are so frightened–

“Terrified.”

–Your fear caused you to flee from me–

“I am ashamed of this.”

–You need not be. Your fear is real and justified. I was once as you are. Frightened and confused. I, too, fled–

Arling opened her eyes and looked at the tree. “You fled when you were told what was expected of you?”

–Even before I understood. I was a young girl, like you. I barely remember it now. The tree spoke to me. She touched me. I grew frightened of what that meant, and I fled–

“But you came back?”

–Why are you so frightened, child? There is no pain in what I ask of you. There is so much good that you can do–

The voice was calm and measured. It filled Arling with a sense of peace that she found oddly reassuring. She shivered at the feelings it roused in her.

“I am not meant to do this. I am meant to be a Druid, like my sister. It was what I planned all along to do when my time as a Chosen was finished.”

–You would be a Druid so you could help others. Like your sister–

“I would. I would do that instead.”

–Even though you would be helping so many more by doing what I have asked? Even though you would be saving a world–

Arling hesitated, not knowing what to say. “Someone else would be a better choice.”

–You say this to me, knowing I am the one who makes all the choices? Knowing I chose you because there was reason for doing so–

Arling squeezed her eyes closed. “Was I made a Chosen because you knew you were dying and needed another of the Elessedil line to replace you? Is that why I was chosen?”

A long silence followed.

–I choose all of my children instinctively, with no prior knowledge of who or what you are. I know nothing of your histories. Not then and not now. In the beginning, I do not even know your names. When you, child, passed beneath me in the time of your choosing, you felt right to me and so I took you–

“I shouldn’t have agreed.”

–But you did agree. You accepted your choosing. Would you abandon it now–

“I must. I cannot do this.”

–Because you think it will be too hard–

“Because it isn’t something I thought I would ever have to do.”

–You would do only those things for which you were already prepared? You would accept only hardships you already understand? Will it be like that for you if you become a Druid–

Arling burst into tears, burying her face in her hands, momentarily unable to continue.

“I don’t know what else to say.”

The Ellcrys went silent again, and Arling fought to stop crying, wiping away the tears, telling herself to be strong, to stand her ground. She couldn’t be forced to do this. She couldn’t be made to take the Ellcrys seed and carry it to the Bloodfire. She didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to.

–What if there is no other to take your place–

The words broke the silence like the shattering of glass, and Arling flinched in response.

–What if you are the only one who can do this–

Arling exhaled sharply. Her oval face lifted and she tightened her lips in defiance. “But I’m not the only one. There are others. Lots of others. You choose us for this. You know which of us will be able to serve you in the ways you have need of being served. You can always find another to do what is needed.”

–You sound so certain of this. I was like you once. I believed this, too. There would be others to do what I was being asked and did not want to do. How difficult would it be to find one–

Arling brightened. “Then you understand what I am saying. I think another Chosen would be more ready than I am to take the seed to the Bloodfire. To become the next Ellcrys. More ready and capable than I am to do what is needed.”

–More ready and capable? A sweeping conclusion, child. Think a moment. Whoever does what I ask must be strong enough to survive a journey to a distant place, one filled with dangers. This Chosen may be hunted, just as I was hunted. This Chosen must have family and friends willing to die for her. This Chosen must be able to withstand both physical and emotional hardships and be willing to sacrifice herself for the good of her people–

Arling felt her momentary elation fade.

–This Chosen will need courage and resilience and strength of will that exceed those of others. The journey to find the Bloodfire and immerse my seed is a terrible trial. The journey back and its inevitable ending would be no less so. When an Ellcrys chooses a successor, all this must be taken into account. All these qualities must be considered when searching for the one who will become what I became–

“But I am not …”

–Hush, child, hush. Let me finish what I would say to you–

Arling flushed at the rebuke and went silent.

–My decision to choose you as the bearer of my seed was not arrived at in days or months or even years. It took a long time to find you. Generations of Chosen came and went. Death comes gradually if not hastened by chance or misfortune, and so it has been to me. I have seen its approach for a long time and only of late have felt its touch. The Forbidding I ward has been eroding incrementally. At first, it did not matter; the erosion was slight. But with the passage of time, the danger has grown more immediate. My search, therefore, needs resolving–

–So when I ask you what I should do if I cannot find another, it is not because another does not exist. It is because I lack the time I need to find that other. My predecessor faced this same dilemma when she chose me. The erosion of the Forbidding accelerates. The risk of the imprisoned breaking free from their world and invading this one is upon us–

The Ellcrys fell silent again, but Arling could not find the words to respond. She felt trapped and overmatched by this ancient creature, and she lacked the means to do anything about it. She slumped back on her heels and kept her head lowered against the fear that would undo her completely.

Finally, the tree whispered once more in a soft, soothing voice.

–Enough talk for tonight, child. I have sat where you are sitting and argued as you have argued and struggled to decide as you are struggling. I know how difficult this is for you. Go to your home and sleep. Come again tomorrow night, and we will speak further–

Arling shook her head. “I don’t know if I can make myself come back.”

The leaves of the tree shivered in a soft gust of wind, rustling like tiny creatures.

–You will do what you know is right. You will come to me. If you fail to appear, I will know I was wrong to choose you–

Then the Ellcrys went silent, and although Arling sat where she was for a very long time, the tree did not speak to her again.

In the hostile and blasted country of the Forbidding, the survivors of the search party for the missing Elfstones stared at the Ard Rhys in disbelief.

“What did you say?” Carrick was the first to break the silence, his stance aggressive. He glared at the Ard Rhys. “Tell me I misheard you.”

Khyber faced him squarely. She was not in the least intimidated, Redden thought as he stood off to one side, watching the confrontation unfold.

“We are inside the Forbidding,” she answered. “Just as Grianne Ohmsford was a hundred years ago. Trapped.”

Carrick shook his head. “That isn’t possible.”

“I’m afraid it is. The shimmer of light we passed through was a breach in the wall that had been deliberately altered to suggest it was something other than what it really is. Even my magic failed to detect it. As did your own, Carrick.”

“But you can’t be sure of this! How do you know?”

“The look of the land. The creatures that attacked us on our way in—things not of our world but very much of this one. Giant insects, Goblins. The dragon that attacked us and then took away Oriantha and Crace Coram—when there aren’t any Drachas left in the Four Lands. The way the opening was there one minute and gone the next. There’s no mistaking what we saw. Anyone who knows the history of the Four Lands and its Races would know the truth of it. We are inside the Forbidding.”

There was a stunned silence.

Then Pleysia, still on her knees, began to laugh hysterically. “How much worse can this get? We’ve lost half our number. A dragon has carried away my daughter and the Dwarf. We found our way in and can’t find our way out.” Her laughter died away into sobs. “All of us are caught out on the wrong side of a door we can’t even find, let along open! Caught among creatures that will tear us to bits once they discover we’re here. It’s madness!”

Carrick whipped around to say something, and then stopped short. “Your daughter? That odd girl is your daughter? Why didn’t you tell us?”

Pleysia hauled herself to her feet, her eyes dark as they fixed on him. “Would it have made any difference to you? What do you care about me and mine, anyway?”

The Trolls were pressing forward as well, talking among themselves, lapsing into their own guttural language as they gestured at the bodies of Garroneck and the other dead. Redden took a step back in spite of himself, even though he wasn’t the one being threatened. If anything, he was being ignored. It was Khyber Elessedil who was bearing the brunt of everyone’s rage and fear.

“Stay calm,” she ordered, raising her voice only a little.

“Stay calm?” Carrick looked wild and dangerous. “We have to get out of here, Mistress. Right now!”

“I’m not leaving my daughter!” Pleysia screamed at him. “We don’t go anywhere until we find her!”

Redden looked around uneasily. They were standing out in the open, and the sound of their voices would carry a long way. If there was anything else out there hunting, anything as dangerous as that dragon, it would find them with no trouble.

“Come close,” the Ard Rhys ordered them, indicating both Druids and Trolls. She did not look at Redden, but he stepped toward her anyway. “Now listen to me,” she said, looking from face to face. “We can’t go back the way we came. The way we came is gone. Or if not gone, lost to us. But before we give up completely on finding it, we should use our magic to see if it can be revealed. Carrick? Pleysia? We should at least try.”

So they did, each one of them separately, conjuring Druid magic and sending it abroad, sweeping the countryside for a hint of where the door might be concealed. But even though they kept at it for long minutes, it showed them nothing.

I could try using the wishsong,
Redden thought. But then something else occurred to him.

“Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this,” he said suddenly. All heads turned. “Doesn’t the use of magic attract other magic? Especially here, where there is so much of it?”

“He is right,” Khyber Elessedil said.

“But we can’t stand here and do nothing!” Carrick insisted, “What does it matter if we use our magic or not? The things that hunt us in this monstrous land will find us sooner or later anyway. Our only chance to escape them is to discover a way out and take it!”

The Ard Rhys shook her head. “Maybe nothing is hunting us. Except for the dragon, the creatures that inhabit the Forbidding might not even know we are here. Not yet, anyway. Remember how we got here. The blue Elfstones showed Aphenglow that this was the way to the missing Stones. Her vision was clear enough to get us this far, and everything we have done has followed that vision exactly. Even the shimmer of light was a part of what she was shown. We were not lured here. We came of our own free will at the direction of the seeking-Stones. Whoever created this trap didn’t know that we would be the ones to fall into it.”

“What difference does that make?” Carrick demanded. “We don’t have the blue Elfstones now. We can’t use them to find a way out.”

“No one is suggesting we can. But we shouldn’t make the mistake of thinking we’re trapped by something that hunts us. We may yet find a way out. We mustn’t panic. We must stay calm and remain together. If we are judicious about it, we can still use our magic to find another doorway. If the Forbidding has eroded in one place, it has probably eroded in another.”

Redden wondered about that, but since he knew nothing specific about the way in which the Forbidding worked, he kept still about his doubts.

“Redden,” the Ard Rhys called to him, and he glanced over quickly. “Just to be certain that we overlook no possibility, will you try using the wishsong?”

He nodded and summoned the magic to seek out the shimmer of light through which they had passed, picturing it in his mind. Quickly enough the blue light flashed to a place perhaps a hundred feet away from where they stood, flaring out in a broad swath. But open countryside was all they saw. Nothing else was revealed.

Nevertheless, acting on the wishsong’s response, the three Druids went at once to the place where the magic had spun out, searching for anything that would suggest a doorway back through the Forbidding. But their efforts were in vain. No opening appeared, no sign of a way through the invisible wall that imprisoned them.

“I’ve had enough of this!” Pleysia snapped. “I’m going after my daughter. Those who want to come with me can. Otherwise, I’ll go alone.”

She stalked away from them, suddenly looking much stronger and more determined. Redden and the others watched her for long minutes before Carrick muttered, “We shouldn’t let her go off without us. Besides, there’s nothing for us here.”

Khyber Elessedil nodded. “Let’s stay with her, then. We can keep searching for a way out as we go.”

Which meant she had no better idea to offer and perhaps recognized that their situation was much more hopeless than she wanted to admit aloud.

They set off—the three Druids, the four Trolls, and Redden—heading in the direction that the dragon had flown. It felt futile to Redden, who would have preferred staying where they were. Maybe Seersha, who had been left behind with Railing and the others, would come looking for them and be able to guide them back again. Maybe the opening would reappear after a while.

But the decision wasn’t his to make, and he could feel the despondency and loss of hope that appeared to infect the others working its way through him, as well. He wished he had never agreed to come with the Ard Rhys but instead had remained behind with Railing. He wondered how Railing was. At least his brother wasn’t inside the Forbidding like he was, but matters might not be going so well on the other side of the wall, either. After all, those Goblins would still be hunting them, and possibly other things by now, as well. They were still deep in the interior of the Fangs, and if Seersha didn’t get word to Mirai to come rescue them, it would be a long and dangerous trek back out again.

And Railing couldn’t walk with his broken leg. He would have to be carried. Helpless.

Redden walked in silence for a long time, watching Pleysia lead them—almost as if she knew where she was going. He tried to imagine Oriantha as the Elf Druid’s daughter and failed. They seemed nothing alike. Yet there was a clear connection between them, one that went beyond friendship. He shifted his gaze to Carrick and watched the tall Druid for a time, his aspect somber and detached. Then he glanced over at the Trolls, muttering among themselves as they lumbered along.

Finally he moved up alongside the Ard Rhys.

“Do you think one of the others might come looking for us?” he asked her quietly, “Maybe Seersha or Skint?”

“Maybe. If they do, the tag I left on the opening will alert me. If it’s Seersha, she will recognize it and know it for a warning to stay back until I return for her.” She glanced over. “Is that what you were wondering? If I made a mistake in deciding to leave and come along with Pleysia?”

He flushed. “It had crossed my mind.”

She smiled, the wrinkles in her face smoothing in a way that made her seem decidedly younger. “I thought so. I considered staying where we were. But we would have had to come looking for Oriantha and Crace Coram eventually. We couldn’t leave either of them behind.” She paused. “You have your wits about you, Redden Ohmsford. You’ll be fine.”

He nodded, not so sure about that. “So you think the Elfstones are really in here somewhere? Like you were shown by the vision?”

She nodded. “It would explain why they couldn’t be found for so long. Aleia Omarossian’s Darkling boy must have had the missing Elfstones in his possession when the Forbidding went up. The magic took all the dark creatures and whatever possessions they had on them and locked them away. Others trying to find the Stones after that wouldn’t have been looking in the right place—not even in the right world. And the seeking-Stones wouldn’t have been able to penetrate the wall of the Forbidding until now, when it’s begun to fail. The blue Stones found a chink in the armor. Too bad we didn’t recognize it for what it was.”

“But at least now we know where they are, and we have a chance of finding them.”

“Maybe we know. Maybe we have a chance. But finding the missing Elfstones isn’t necessarily what we need to do at this point. Even if we found them, we couldn’t be sure they would help us get out of this mess. With the Forbidding crumbling, our priorities have changed. If the wall goes down, everyone in the Four Lands is at risk. We need to escape and give warning of the danger. We need to find out why this is happening.”

She shook her head, as if to emphasize the dilemma. “I would like nothing better than to complete our search. But to find the Stones now, we would need time to search them out—and that’s time we don’t have. Even then, I wonder if it would be worth it. I wonder if any of this has been worth it.”

There was more than a hint of discouragement and frustration in her voice. He walked on with her for a few minutes more and then dropped away, leaving her to her own thoughts, thinking how hard it must be for her to know she had been seduced and deceived by the vision. Lives had been lost because of it, and more still might be lost before this was over.

His own among them.

The trek continued through the remainder of the day, but there was no sign of the dragon or their missing companions. They came down from the mountains to the plains of the south, moving in the general direction the dragon had taken. The terrain was barren and empty, a mixture of rutted earth dotted with scrub and rock, and forests in which leaves and grasses had turned gray and the trees had a skeletal look. There was no sign of water. There was no movement on the ground or in the air. The land looked dead and broken.

Every so often, the Ard Rhys or one of the other Druids would use magic to search the countryside ahead, but each time the effort failed. Once, they caught sight of something huge in the distance, a massive creature lumbering across the plains toward the mountains beyond. The Ard Rhys had them stop and hold their positions until it was safely past before allowing them to continue on. More than once, they came across piles of bones, sometimes acres of them. It was hard even to guess at their identity from what remained, and they skirted these killing grounds warily.

By nightfall, they were confronted by an impassable wilderness of swamp and saw grasses, and they were forced to turn west to seek a way around. After walking awhile longer, the Druids agreed they should make camp before it got too dark to see. The Ard Rhys chose a patch of desiccated spruce that offered cover and at least marginal protection from the things that might be hunting them. No one felt comfortable spending the night in such an exposed position, but there was nothing better anywhere close at hand. The Ard Rhys strung a warding chain around their sleeping ground that would sound an audible alert should anything try to attack. The company agreed to set a watch that would work through the night in two-hour shifts.