Taming the Elements: Elwin Escari Chronicles: Volume 1 (33 page)

Zeth pulled the dark chest from his robes. “This is called a soulkey. Whoever holds it commands the soulless one. His life is bound to this for all of time. These artifacts are rare, and the knowledge of how to craft them died with Abaddon. Holding a soul is but a fraction of its power.”

“Release him,” Elwin said. “I will go with you. Just release him.”

Zeth’s half smile belied the pity in his voice. “I am afraid it is too late. If I release the energy of his soul, his death will be absolute. Not even his soul would remain. Death now means complete destruction.”

“No,” Elwin said. “That isn’t possible.”

“You cannot fathom the powers of the Father,” Zeth said. “You have been made weak by living a peasant’s existence. Your mother is to blame. Had she not stolen you away, none of this would have come to pass. The war may not have reached these islands for many years.

“This peasant,” Zeth gestured toward his father, “would have lived out a long peasant’s life and never suffered at my hand. But we must all pay for our folly.”

“What folly?” Elwin asked. “He was a farmer. He never hurt you or anyone.”

“That is where you are wrong,” Zeth said. “He kept a child who was not his to keep. He has paid the ultimate price for his crimes.”

Elwin was at a loss for words. Zeth was a madman. There was nothing to say that would make the man see reason. Father’s only crime was to love him. Elwin was orphaned, and Drenen raised him as his own.

“Where are you taking me?”

“As I told you. I am taking you to your father across the Tranquil Sea. Where you belong.”

Elwin sat back on his feet. “I want nothing to do with him or you.”

“Ah,” Zeth said. “Another village lies ahead. I will need to make a few more skeletal warriors, there.”

“Stop the wagon,” he called. The cage slowed to a stop.

He had been about to ask Zeth what he had meant by
skeletal warriors
. Then, Elwin heard the shuffling of feet behind him. As he turned around, his stomach felt ill once more.

The question died on his lips.

Chapter 17

A Light in the Darkness

Feffer rode Haven back toward the town with haste.

“I can’t believe I left Elwin,” Feffer said.

He had come back to the farm last night, hoping to find Melra or his father, Wilton or anyone. For the last year of his life he had learned to take orders. There was no one to give him orders now. But he had to do something.

As the town grew closer, Feffer slowed Haven to a trot. At a distance, he couldn’t tell that anything had happened to the town. Rain sprinkled the redwood, making it a darker crimson. The buildings on the west side of the town had not been scathed.

The first building was Danna’s. Normally, the strong smells of candles and odd aromas would greet him, but her windows remained closed.

He reigned Haven to a stop and tethered her to Danna’s building. If the dark savant was still around, Feffer didn’t want to be seen riding into town. Next to Danna’s was Jansen’s brewery. On the other side of the brewery was his Da’s shop.

He crept behind the brewery, using all the stealth he had been taught. The wet grass made very little noise beneath his feet as he crept around the back of the building. When he reached the building’s edge, he ran to his Da’s shop and crept along the side toward the square. When there was no more wall left, he slowly peeked around the building.

Standing in the square, he saw Melra, Poppe, and Faron. The moment his eyes landed on them, he broke into a run.

“Mrs. Escari,” he said. “What happened to Elwin?”

All three of them jumped at the sound of his voice. Melra placed a hand over her mouth and tears filled her eyes.

“Feffer,” she cried, while pulling him into an embrace. “That man took him. And … ”

Her voice broke into a sob, and she became heavy in his arms. He held her until her sobbing subsided.

“Melra,” Poppe said at last. “We need to get inside. There is nothing we can do for Elwin out here.”

Melra pulled away from him, and they started toward the broken inn.

“Wait,” Feffer said. “Where is he?”

They stopped walking and regarded him as one. Melra’s eyes were still filled with tears. And, Faron looked at Feffer like he was the same child who used to try to make off with his swords.

It was Poppe who answered him. “The man called Zeth took him. He arrived at my inn early yesterday and took a place by the fire. He was dressed in rich black robes, like none I had ever seen. He scoffed at our wineskins and ordered a bottle of wine. I had tried to make polite banter, but the man had not been interested. After tasting the wine, it was of Napri vintage, his manner was polite but curt. I took him for a lord. He had told me that he was waiting for someone and did not wish to be bothered. He said that if he wanted something he would call for me. I thought him some sort of nobility. Not … not this.” It took great effort not to cut Poppe off before he finished the long-winded speech that really told him nothing.

“Where is Elwin?” Feffer knew his voice sounded impatient. “Which way did
Zeth
take him?”

“No one saw them leave,” Faron said. “I am ashamed to say that I hid with Melra, Poppe, and the children in Poppe’s wine cellar until this morning. I make a fine sword, but I wouldn’t know the first thing about using one. But there are fresh tracks heading east. By the number of tracks, it looks like he took more people than Elwin with him. What would he want with all of them?”

“Right,” Feffer said. “East it is then. Faron, you need to ride west. You know of the guard posting fifteen leagues to the west on the other side of Hillfast?”

“Yes, of course,” Faron said. “But—”

“Great,” Feffer cut in. “Make haste and tell them what happened here. Have them send word to Sir Gibbins, immediately.”

He walked toward the shop, “I need supplies.”

“Wait,” Poppe said. “Feffer, there is something you need to know. It’s your father.”

Feffer stopped walking. He hadn’t even thought to ask about his Da or Wilton. He had assumed they were alright. But, where were they?

“My Da?” Feffer asked.

“He was standing beside the door,” Faron said, “when
it
happened.”

“When what happened?” Feffer asked.

“I’m so sorry, Feffer,” Poppe said. “He’s gone.”

“Gone where?” Feffer said.

Poppe placed a hand on his shoulder. “He’s dead, child.”

“Wilton?”

“No one has seen him,” Faron said. “He might have been taken with the others.”

“Who is still alive?” Feffer wanted to know.

“We can’t know for sure,” Faron said. The large man had tears in his eyes. “Everything happened so quickly. When the man pulled his jagged blade and began attacking people, most people ran.”

Feffer didn’t know what to say. He felt tears try to make their way to the surface, but he forced them away. There was no time for this.

Wiping his eyes, he walked to his Da’s shop. The door was unlocked. He entered and walked past “the front,” as his Da called it, and opened the double doors to the warehouse.

Feffer found a traveler’s knapsack and began grabbing anything that might be useful and shoved it into the bag. Rope and tackle, artificer’s tools and fishing line. He found a small tent that could tie to a saddle. Bandages and healing salts and salves could prove useful. Spy glass, tender twigs, lantern, sealed oil, dried bread and meat, wineskins for water.

He found a dark, leather saddle bag and filled it with more travel foods. In the middle of the loft was a leather tarp covering something. Feffer pulled it off.

Fireworks.

There were small, round ones, a couple of big round ones, and a large, oblong one with a wooden base. It was half the size of his leg.

He grabbed as many of them as would fit into the remainder of his pack. Then, he took a dagger and cut away enough of the tarp to wrap the fireworks and forced the bundle to fit into the bag.

His pack was heavier than it looked.

He left it where it was and walked across to the weapon rack on the far wall. He tested several swords, checking their weight and balance.

Feffer settled on a scimitar. These had come from the Alcoan nation, obviously crafted by a master. His father must have had too high of a price on it, or the blade would have sold. It was truly a beautiful blade. He left the sword Sir Gibbins had given him in its place and held the falchion in appraisal. It had an encircled raven engraved just above the hilt.

Only master crafted weapons carried such marks. Feffer grabbed the matching silver sheath with the encircled raven and fastened it to his belt.

When he was satisfied with his provisions, he went up the stairs to his father’s room. There was a painting of his mother on the wall. He avoided looking into her green eyes as he plucked the painting off the wall and placed it gently on the floor.

An iron safe was fastened to the wall. He shifted the levers to the correct position and pulled the handle to open the safe. Taking the empty purse from the safe, he filled it with some silver scales and the heaviest gold crowns. After fastening it to his belt, he closed the safe and replaced the painting.

When he came down the stairs, the three of them were waiting for him.

“Feffer,” Melra said gently. “Where do you think you are going?”

“I am going after Elwin,” he said.

“You can’t,” Faron said. “You will be killed.”

“I am not a fool,” Feffer said. “I have no intentions of fighting a dark savant. I will sneak up when
Zeth
is sleeping and break Elwin free, then we can fly safely away. If possible, we can fly to the capital for reinforcements to come back for the others. If not, we can go north to Goldspire. ”

He walked to his gear and began to lift it. “You have to trust me. I can be very stealthy when I put my mind to it.”

“You are still a child,” Melra said.

“I have been training for a year, and I am the best swordsman in my class.” Feffer said. “I am not a child, anymore. ”

“You are only fifteen years old,” her voice sounded breathless.

“Sixteen,” he said, annoyed that his defiance made him feel like a child. “Elwin is fifteen.”

“Look,” Feffer said. “I am all there is. Zeth is a dark savant. He is taking Elwin back to make him use the Death Element. I can’t let that happen. Not to Elwin. I must go.”

The whites of Melra’s eyes were wide and tears fell down her cheeks. Poppe’s mouth was open, but no words came out. He had them, he knew. They would not stop him.

“How do you know this?” Faron asked.

“I heard it from Lord Lifesong,” Feffer said. “The dark savants are taking children with power to use them as weapons in their war.”

“The only reason Zeth could be headed east is to reach Eastport,” Faron said.

“Once he has Elwin on a vessel,” Feffer said, “all will be lost. If I save Elwin, Zeth will not leave with the others. I can save them, but you have to trust me.”

“Alright lad,” Faron said. “I will ride west to send word to Sir Gibbins. I have made many weapons at his request. He will know my name and trust my word.”

“Good,” Feffer said. “Let us not waste more time.”

Atop Haven, Feffer had a clear view of the countryside surrounding the dirt road. He had been traveling for half the morning, and the misting rain had provided little relief against the humid heat. The tracks left by the wagon and small contingent of footsteps never varied far from the road, making them easy to follow.

In the distance, he could see an occasional farm, but he dared not waste time to look for help. The dark savant had not ventured from the road, so neither had Feffer. It was unlikely that an untrained farmer or rancher could do much for Elwin anyway.

By noon, Feffer could see a city on the horizon. He had never traveled east, but Feffer knew Bentonville from one of his father’s maps. Like Benedict, Bentonville was a small village with mostly of farmers.

Feffer could see smoke rising from chimneys. He spurred Haven from a trot to a gallop.

As he neared the village, Feffer realized that it was not the chimneys that were smoking. Several of the buildings were smoldering. One of the buildings had been caved in completely.

He reigned Haven to a walk. There were no people that he could see. Maybe they were hiding.

Feffer had not yet earned his red cloak, so they would not know he belonged to the king’s guard. He was about to call out, but he stopped himself. What if Zeth was still here?

He pulled Haven to a halt. The only sound was the misting rain in his ears and the crackling of the smoldering buildings. He looked to the road. The tracks continued into the village.

Nudging Haven forward, Feffer watched for any movement.

Like Benedict, the buildings had been crafted from the redwoods of the Carotid to the north. Though the buildings here were farther apart, Feffer could not tell the difference between shops and homes. Most of them were of a size with one another. And much like Benedict, these people likely lived where they worked.

The largest building stood three stories high. The sign had a fool juggling red wooden balls painted on it. The paint had faded, and there was no script to name the inn on the sign. The door had been knocked inward hanging only on its lower hinge.

The tracks split off here.

Feffer stopped Haven at the hitching post in front of the inn and climbed down from his saddle. He wrapped her reins around the post.

No cobblestones made a village square here, but no grass grew at the large space in front of the inn. Feffer walked toward the east, looking at the tracks. Red darkened the mud, and there were impressions too large to have come from hooves or feet.

Bodies maybe?

He and Elwin had been on a few hunts with Wilton, Drenen, and his Da, but he was not as good at tracking as the others had been. Feffer had been better with a bow than Elwin, but his friend had picked up reading tracks much faster.

He could tell the wagon tracks continued east. Those at least were easy to follow. If the wagon had gone, so had Zeth.

Feffer yelled, “Hello! Is anyone here?”