Scarlet and the Keepers of Light (14 page)

“You must be exhausted,” Delfi said slyly, once she had finished her story.

“Not really. I’ve been asleep till now,” said Scarlet.

“Not from your duel with Xavier. I expect it must take a lot of energy to talk that long without breathing,” Delfi teased.

Scarlet smiled good-naturedly and gave him a playful punch on the arm. They both laughed.

“What would you like to do today?” Delfi asked. “I don’t have any chores, and I’m officially off probation. I have the whole day.”

“Well, I thought we’d . . . ” Scarlet’s voice trailed off, her attention drawn by the approach of her father. The look on his face was enough to make her blood run cold.

“Scarlet,” he said grimly. “We have to meet with Xavier.”

“Why? What’s wrong, Dad? Something’s wrong. Is it Mom? Melody?” There was a frantic quality to her voice.

“It’s nothing like that. Let’s go,” her dad said. “You can come too, I expect.” He gave Delfi a weak smile. “She’ll just tell you later anyway.”

Scarlet and Delfi followed her dad to Xavier’s study, which was on the second floor of the castle in the opposite wing from the library. What resembled a conference table was in the center of the large room, and seated around it were about a dozen older Tounder, some of whom Scarlet recognized as the council members who had stayed after the feast on her second day in Illuminora, though a few she had never seen before. Dakota was also there, sitting proudly in the corner of the room.

The group of Tounder all stood when Scarlet entered the room, and Xavier motioned her and her father toward two empty seats. Their arrival had apparently interrupted a heated discussion. Delfi remained standing near the entrance to the study, looking uncomfortable and out of place.

The group of Tounder seated around the table turned out to be the entire governing council of Illuminora, all older than the majority of the Tounder Scarlet had gotten used to seeing around the village.

“The king has sent word. The prince’s army will begin its march on Caelesta any day now, and the city itself is falling from within.” Xavier’s voice was immediately drowned out by shocked cries and urgent whispers from the council. “Be still,” he commanded. The crowd slowly quieted.

“This is not the time for panic. We knew this day would come,” Xavier said sternly. He sat back in his chair, gathering himself. He looked as if he bore the weight of the world.

“What are we going to do, Xavier?” one of the Tounder called out, his cry met with a stirring from the crowd. “We have no army to meet him. His army will march unabated to the Doran king, and then all will be lost. The prince will be free.”

“How quickly your hope has faded, Thaniel,” Xavier answered. He did not hide his disappointment as he looked at the man. “I would have expected more from a senior member of this council.” Thaniel bowed his head, no longer able to meet Xavier’s gaze.

“I expect more of all of you. Fear is one thing, a loss of hope unforgivable. We have the For Tol Don. His attempts to attack her have failed, as have his attempts to find her.”

“She is a child!” called out another.

“As were we all. We have the counsel of her mother and father. We have the great Lord of Wolves,” Xavier boasted, not unaware of Dakota, who cringed at the mention of this title. “All is not lost. We have many trials ahead, but our history is full of great challenges that we have faced, weathered, and triumphed over.”

“But Xavier, with all due respect, nothing in our history is anything like what we face in Prince Thanerbos. He has been able to achieve much more than we thought, much sooner than we thought possible.” The Tounder who now spoke looked as if he might have been as old as Xavier. “I am one of few in Illuminora,” he continued, “who have witnessed war. In war, it is those who control the information, whose information is sound, that win. The prince has been a step ahead of us at every turn. We barely got to young Lady Scarlet in time. He has managed in fourteen years to do what we thought would take thirty. I would never advise despair, but realism is perhaps in order.”

Xavier gave the man a weak but genuine smile. “Brynn, my old friend. . . . I respect your counsel more than most, and I agree that times are dark. Very dark. I promise you all that I am not naive enough to believe that the road is easy. I assure you that I have not failed to take into account the dire urgency of our situation, or our weaknesses and strengths. I’ve spoken with the king, and we have a plan that I believe can succeed.”

The council was silent, waiting for a miracle they dared not truly believe in, yet hoped for in spite of themselves. The next words from Xavier brought that glimmer of hope crashing to the ground.

“We will send a party to the dragon Morelpis. We will ask for his aid.” With these words Xavier again lost control of the council. They erupted in a fury of cries and disgruntled wails. A few were so overwhelmed with despair that they laid their heads down and wept. Several others, overcome by anger, stood, banging clenched fists on the table and turning the anger toward each other.

“Please listen!” Xavier implored, but it was no use. He looked at Scarlet with shamed eyes. She needed strength and reassurance, not an angry, divided mob.

Scarlet, rather than feeling abandoned, felt only sympathy. With Xavier pleading to gain control, Scarlet stood, calmly facing the crowd. Compelled to do something, as much for Xavier as for the wavering hearts of the Tounder, she opened her right hand, and with her left she drew a single point of light between her finger and thumb. With a quick movement of her wrist, she tossed the light onto the table. She then held her hands in the form of two cups, closed at first and then slowly opening. As her fingers extended, so did the light, growing in size and brightness until it filled the room with a blinding radiance. The council members shielded their eyes, cowering in their seats, silent now in the presence of the light. Scarlet lowered her hands, and the light vanished.

Every eye was now fixed on Scarlet.

“Thank you, Scarlet,” Xavier said, trying to sound calm, although his voice had a quiver to it.

He took a moment to compose himself. “We will send a party to Morelpis and ask for his aid,” he said again.

Brynn was the only Tounder to speak, his demeanor calm and reserved. “Xavier, no creature has seen or heard from the dragon since the death of his daughter. You know the history of his vow.”

“I do,” Xavier answered. “And old wounds are sometimes hard to heal, but we must try.”

“If you can find someone crazy enough to take such a quest. We can’t possibly be hanging all of our hopes on the dragon. We don’t even know if he still lives,” Thaniel managed to croak out very quickly.

“
I
will go and speak to him,” Xavier said.

Several of the council spoke at once.

“No, impossible.”

“You can’t possibly leave.”

“Not now.”

Xavier put up a hand to stop the cries. “We are safe here for now, but only if Prince Thanerbos’s army is stopped from passing through Caelesta. I will be of little help to you if the defenses fail. Morelpis will recognize me, and he might take anyone else as an insult.

“If Morelpis agrees, the king wishes for him to block the mountain pass. That will give the king a safe haven to evacuate the city to, if need be. Give them a safe place to retreat. With Morelpis guarding the mountain, we also gain the advantage of time. Not even Prince Thanerbos’s army would be able to get past Morelpis.”

“Time for what?” Thaniel dared to ask.

“For Scarlet to finish her quest,” Xavier said hopefully.

“These are lofty thoughts, Xavier. Lofty indeed,” said Brynn.

There followed a long silence while the weight of the coming turmoil sank in fully for the crowd. Finally Xavier spoke again.

“Tomorrow Scarlet, Udd Lyall, and Mr. Hopewell will set off to complete her training.”

“Is that going to be enough? Just three?” Thaniel asked.

“The prince knows that eventually she must leave the sanctuary of Illuminora to face him. The Mortada are combing the country for her, and they will expect a large group of us to protect her. If it weren’t for her youth, I might even argue for just her and Udd Lyall to go.”

“Where will they go?” Thaniel asked.

Xavier frowned at him, his eyes darting briefly to Dakota. “Even I will not be asking that question.”

The council dispersed, and Scarlet immediately ran to Xavier, catching him before he could leave. He looked down at her with sad eyes that might have even held a touch of guilt, or at least regret.

“You aren’t going to teach me more?” Scarlet pleaded. She had been putting on a show of being strong and confident
in front of the council, but with only Xavier, Dakota, and her father there to hear her, she felt no need to posture now.

Xavier’s expression changed to one of compassion. “I wish you could stay here with me for a lifetime, and I would gladly teach you everything I know. I care deeply for you, young lady. But I have helped you awaken the light inside you. Teaching you to wield that power as I would is not what will win the battle against Thanerbos. If that were true, then I would keep you safe under the great oak, and I would face him myself.” Xavier paused, and then reached out and lightly touched her face. “It is you who will win this battle. Those you meet along your journey will help you to awaken all the magic there is time for, and then you will find the way to use that magic as Scarlet would. As the For Tol Don. Not a silly old Tounder.”

“You aren’t silly,” Scarlet protested.

“When there is no more war to fight, you’ll see that I am quite silly indeed.” Xavier smiled warmly. “I have to go and get some things in order. We will speak again before you go.”

Scarlet watched as Xavier left the room. Even though Dakota and her father were still in the room, she felt remarkably alone.

16

The Northern Woodlands

Bren
nan slept uneasily, his dreams filled with cries and screams. They’d come to the city through rolling hills and fertile farmland, and left it in the semidarkness of a long, damp tunnel. They’d passed under the moat and through the mountain pass, emerging a day later in a completely new world. The tunnel opened into a forest of majestic oaks and spruce, maples and redwoods. It was very different from the Southern Wildlands, which had been wild and untamed, filled with an overwhelming sense of danger and chaos. The Northern Woodlands exuded an air of peace, of order and comfort. Its denizens were almost all small mammals, gathering nuts and berries in the serene leafy shade and dappled sunlight
.

And yet his dreams did not change. When Brennan slept, his mind was filled with images of Caelesta under siege, horrible things happening to the women and children who had hoped that the city’s great walls would protect them. And always, in the center of it all, the redheaded girl . . . He woke drenched in cold sweat, striking out against some unknown force.

He had little time for waking reflection. Driven by his determination to reach the girl, Chosen insisted they wake before dawn and be on the road moments later, often not stopping to eat. Occasionally he would suddenly change direction, going east instead of west or doubling back. Often Brennan could sense the passing Mortada that Chosen had barely avoided with these maneuvers.

“They are searching hard now,” Chosen offered in a rare forthcoming moment.

“Who are?” Brennan asked, not expecting any response. By now he didn’t really care whether Chosen answered his questions; perhaps childishly, he found a little enjoyment in the thought that they were at least an annoyance.

“The Mortada. Like the men by the river. Apparently they have fixated on Illuminora as her hiding place.” Chosen had stopped momentarily, scanning the forest for the path he’d take next.

To Brennan, the forest all looked the same. It was beau
tiful and peaceful, but nothing distinguished one area from another. It occurred to Brennan that if Chosen hadn’t been acting as a guide, he could easily find himself lost within these lush green woods for the rest of his life. Most of the time Brennan couldn’t even tell which way they were headed.

“Isn’t that where we’re going—where you think she is?” Brennan asked timidly.

“That is surely where she is,” Chosen snapped. “And if the idiots keep trudging around the forest in such numbers, that is where she is likely to remain for some time.” His annoyance was palpable, and mixed with an anxiety that Brennan had never seen in him before. With few exceptions, Chosen had always seemed self-assured to the point of arrogance.

Brennan couldn’t help but struggle over the disparity between Chosen’s motives and his character. Chosen was clearly connected somehow to these Mortada. In fact, Brennan was almost sure that he was one of them. He certainly knew a lot about them, and he looked remarkably similar. And yet . . . he seemed to speak of them with such disdain. Little about Chosen fit neatly into any single formula, but it was his connection to a group that was clearly evil that worried Brennan the most.

“If you mean her no harm, why can’t we just go and see her in Illuminora?” Brennan asked, feigning ignorance. One way or another, he would make Chosen admit that his intentions were not virtuous.

Chosen’s head snapped around, and he gave Brennan a look of mixed anger and disbelief. “Don’t test me with ignorant questions, Brennan.”

“I thought it was a pretty simple, intelligent question, actually,” Brennan snipped back.

“Simple, yes. Simpleminded. Nobody gets into Illuminora without being invited, and I’m not likely to receive an invitation. We’ll leave it at that.” Chosen selected a direction and took off at a run.

***

From a rise in the woods, Brennan could just make out the clearing below. At the center of it grew the largest tree he could ever have dreamed of, towering nearly fifty feet above the rest of the forest and covered in shimmering silver and golden leaves that seemed to gather into themselves all the light of the day. At the forest’s edge around the clearing, Brennan could also make out the shadowy figures of Mortada, shifting about restlessly, searching either for a way into the clearing or for anyone trying to leave.

“What now?” Brennan asked.

“We wait,” Chosen hissed back.

“If she leaves the tree, won’t the Mortada get her?” Brennan asked, genuine concern in his voice.

“The leader of the Tounder will not be unaware of the Mortada’s presence, I can assure you,” Chosen said, dismissively.

“The Tounder . . . I thought they were a myth,” Brennan said.

“No, they’re not a myth.”

They watched in silence until the sun began to set beneath the tree line. Small fires began to flicker in the forest, giving away the positions of the many groups of Mortada.

“Get some sleep,” Chosen said, after the sun had completely disappeared. “I’ll take the first watch. Nothing is going to happen tonight.”

“And what about in the morning? What are we going to do if we can’t get into Illuminora to help her?” Brennan asked, suddenly frustrated by the standstill, now that they were so close to their goal.

“The morning will take care of itself,” Chosen said, taking out the root from his pocket and biting off a piece, chewing on it methodically as he continued to stare down at the clearing.