“Out of the tunnel now, Oarly,” he yelled. “Stay against the wall. We can’t let it trap us inside.”
The great head of the serpent lunged at Phen’s fountaining jewel, its huge, toothy maw opening wide as it came. Phen realized then that being invisible before this sinuous monster did absolutely no good, but by the time the thought finished in his head, he was covered in a cloud of fresh fishy smell, and the serpent’s mouth was closing down over him.
“For Doooon!” he heard Oarly scream, but Phen was yanked off his feet and the world turned into a dark, spinning frenzy.
Chapter 6
Telgra’s eyes fluttered open. The puffy clouds she saw in the sky weren’t twirling about crazily anymore. In a panic, she glanced around. There were no shiny-armored kings riding winged horses of flame. There were no talking statues trying to greet her. There was only Dostin and Corva and the open sea. She lay back for a moment and felt relief, but then the memory of the great spell, and the horrible sounds she’d heard, came flooding back into her mind like a torrent.
“Where is my father?” she yelled, trying to sit up again.
“Give her another sip please, Dostin,” Corva said. “I’d do it myself but-”
Telgra saw the nuances of the look on Corva’s elven face and the wounds on Dostin’s. She felt a deep ache in her shoulder. Not sure that she was ready to hear the answer to her question, she sipped from the flask Dostin offered. After a moment, she slipped back into a dreamy sleep.
When she woke, the starry sky wasn’t bobbing and weaving. She looked around and saw that she was in a camp. Waist-high grass teaming with noisy insects surrounded a trampled-down circle, blocking her view of what was beyond the immediate area. A pale blue flame flickered in the center of the encampment. It gave out little warmth, but its soft light was welcome.
A snore from a few feet away was coming from the plump, round-faced monk. Telgra stretched but immediately regretted it. Her shoulder was sore. She inspected it and found a trio of ugly purple scars that had recently been healed by elven magic. The way the ache still throbbed deep inside her body, she knew the wound had to have been healed more than once.
Inspecting the area, she found most of a single sail dinghy jutting up into the sky over the grass nearby. She vaguely remembered being at sea in it. By the way it swayed and rocked, she knew it was sitting in water. Her nose told her that the water around her was brackish. The whole area smelled musty, like half-rotted vegetation.
A loud splash exploded through the night. It came from not too far away. A grunting, huffing noise, like someone running, more splashing, and then the distinct sound of an elven bow loosing arrows quickly. Without knowing she’d done it, Telgra scooted herself precariously close to Dostin. She was tempted to wake him. A deep- rooted fear was taking hold of her. It wasn’t the fear of the moment. She was a capable mage and forester. She was more than able to defend herself against most any man or beast. It was the fear of what had happened to the fiery tree grove, to her father, Brevan, and the other elves. It was the fear of the reason she was sitting in a marsh camp that was far, far away from the Isle of Salaya.
Corva was approaching now, she could tell. He was dragging with him whatever it was he had killed.
“Don’t get it so close to the camp,” she said into the night.
“Yes m’lady.”
It baffled her as to why males always felt the urge to display their kills. In the elven towns of the Evermore Forest the hunters felt obligated to show off the prey they had tracked and killed. Maybe it was to impress their mates, or to feel superior, or maybe it was just to let people know who had supplied the food. Corva would have brought the carcass right into camp, she knew, but this was no village in the Evermore. The scent of fresh blood and gore might attract something they couldn’t handle. Besides, she would rather not know what she ate out here.
A few moments later Corva returned, carrying a fat, bloody chunk of meat. He gave Telgra a forced smile, and then with a wave of his hand caused the soft blue flames of the fire to flare yellow and red. He carefully cut strips of the flesh and arranged them on the rocks around the flames. Within moments the savory smell of roasting meat filled the air.
“What happened?” Telgra asked. She hugged her knees to her chest, readying herself for the answer.
“Like you, lady,” Corva started, looking at her sadly, “I was overwhelmed by Brevan’s great spell. When I came to my senses, they were-they were…” he looked away.
“I’m no sapling that needs sheltering, Corva,” she said. “Out with it.”
“We were set upon by those dark things. Wyvern I think, by the way the bodies were corroded.” He looked at her, unashamed of the tears that were trailing down his cheeks. “A larger creature, a Choska maybe, grabbed hold of you. Your father, Brevan, and most of the monks that were outside were killed.” He looked at Dostin sleeping soundly beside them. “Dostin found you. You’d fallen a good distance and were in bad shape. He prayed over you for a very long time, keeping you alive. After he brought you back to the monastery, it took several attempts to stabilize your body.”
Tears streamed freely down his face now, and had she not been drawn up into such a tight ball, Telgra’s trembling might have been violent.
“Why are we out here?” she asked.
“The King of Salaya sent men up the mountain, many men, to investigate the attack and to protect the monastery. We managed to-” he sobbed and looked grateful when Telgra uncurled herself and moved to his side. “We were not to be seen by the kingdom folk. Those were our orders. So I helped the monks quickly bury them.”
He hugged her close, trying not to get any of the sticky blood from his hands on her. She sobbed and shuddered into his chest as he continued.
“The monks gave us the little craft,” he said. “Dostin, I think, came without his brothers’ permission, but he did so because of his loyalty to you.”
For a long while they were silent, then the wind kicked up and sent a whiff of the now charring meat into their faces. Telgra relaxed her grip around Corva and let him tend the food. While he was turning the meat she asked, “What of the fiery trees?”
“Those that were inside the spell circle are alive and thriving.” He dropped his head. “The rest of them withered to their deaths.”
“We have to get home and organize a party to do something.” She sniffled and tried to gather herself.
“I wish it were that easy,” he said. “The Queen Mother will not allow us to interfere or interact with the kingdom people. She will say that this is a human problem, and that the humans should deal with it.”
“The fiery trees, and those dark things that killed our people…neither are humans,” she replied.
“I agree,” Corva said. “But I don’t think the Queen Mother will. You know her heart better than any other. She may listen to her daughter, but we still have to get ourselves all the way back to the Evermore before we can even begin to try to convince her.”
“That may take too long, I fear,” she said, standing. She took in a deep breath. “I will have to go to this High King Mikahl for help.”
“We cannot disobey the Queen Mother,” Corva argued. “We are not to meddle with the humans at all.”
“Dostin is a human,” she said. “And I’m ordering you to do this, so the responsibility of it falls on me. I’ll deal with my mother.”
“Yes, m’lady.” Corva handed her an arrow with a piece of cooked meat speared on its tip. She saw that his gaze was full of respect. But deeper in his eyes she saw a want for vengeance. The feeling that the decision she had just made might determine his fate made her uneasy, but she didn’t let it stifle her resolve.
The next morning they set out for the human city of O’Dakahn. The port there was the closest to Oktin, where the High King was supposedly having his new palace built. Princess Telgra, heiress to the ruling seat of the entire race of elves, had made up her mind.
Late that afternoon, while they were skirting the marsh delta of the eastern branch of the Leif Greyn River, the sky began to darken. Within minutes the wind had gone from slightly breezy to a savage, blasting gust. The
