But the morning brought noise and her illusions were quickly dashed.
The skies were at war against themselves as dawn drew near. The clouds had begun to churn, and in the powdery light of the new day bolts of lightning had begun to streak across the plains. From overhead, warm raindrops began to pelt the two of them through the canopy. The inclement weather was no great bother to the pair, until they rose and received a progress report from one of the scouts.
A ranger stationed just a short distance away claimed that there were signs of heavy snowfall just beyond the Trading Center, in the plains. Another scout, returning shortly thereafter, reported dust storms brewing further out, egged on by ruthless winds. Both men were sober and insisted that their reports were genuine—though neither could hazard a guess as to why such disparate weather conditions were sprouting up all across the area. “I suppose the world is just coming apart at the seams,” offered one.
Minx and Kaleb made a tour of their own, studying the aberrant conditions for themselves. Sure enough, the reports were correct; the land was being subjected to foul weather of every kind. Strangely, lightning storms, dust storms, rain and snowfall were all represented.
“I've never seen anything like this before,” began Minx. “What does it mean?”
The dragon shifter shook his head. “I guess it's going to be one of those days, huh?” offered Kaleb, trying to lighten the mood. His tone, though, was completely devoid of humor.
Something was happening, she was sure of it—something that the whole of Aleio could not ignore. “Things are coming to a head,” she muttered, watching as lightning surged overhead.
Chapter 22
The voice came to her as she stared out across the wild plains.
The dragon... Please, bring the dragon.
Minx, who'd been on her way with Mau and Kaleb to see the First, stopped in her tracks as the voice of Heilo Lake resonated throughout her mind. It startled her most because she'd never expected to hear that voice again; she'd heard nothing since the lake had been tainted by Torrent's dark magic. Now, the lake was calling out to her weakly, the voice reduced to a low whisper.
That the lake was finally reaching out to her again, on this morning when the skies were glistening with both snow and lightning, could not be a mere coincidence. Something big is happening, she thought to herself. Even the lake, despite its troubles, is taking notice.
As a member of the Silence, if there was one she was to obey without question it was Heilo Lake. Obeying the voice's demand, she reached out and took Kaleb's hand in hers, looking away from the aberrant dust storm brewing in the distance. “I... I guess the Elders must be ready for us,” she began. “The lake just reached out to me.”
“It did?” asked the dragon shifter. “I didn't think it could, after what Torrent did.”
“Me neither. This is the first message I've gotten in a while. But the lake is telling me it's time...”
“I see.” Kaleb nodded gravely. “Where will the Elders be working? Where should we meet them?”
The answer came from behind them. A quartet of heavily-armed guards surrounded a lone figure dressed in the flashy ceremonial armor of the First. The leader of the Fae, expression stern, replied, “We will actually be meeting them near Winterlimb.” He appraised Kaleb as his security detail drew nearer, his demeanor softening in a smile. “I'm glad to see you're still here. I take it to mean you haven't changed your mind?”
Kaleb grinned. “No, I haven't. Are the Elders willing to try things my way—to use me in their ritual as a living creature?”
The First nodded. “It was a matter of lively debate, to be sure, but they've agreed to try it. They spent much of the night studying their manuscripts, and there's nothing in the old books that forbids such a thing—or so I was told. Now, the only question, is whether it'll be efficacious...” He motioned toward the plains, grimacing. “Aleio itself is revolting against Torrent's meddling. We must act quickly, or else our efforts will have been for nothing. Are you ready?”
“I am,” replied Kaleb.
Minx, though, was anything but. Mau, Kaleb and the First's entourage started back into the woods in search of old Winterlimb, but the Fae huntress could hardly stay on her feet. She fought back tears as she shuffled behind them, her mind flooded with terrifying thoughts. This is what the lake wants... it's what my people want. But what if it doesn't work? And what if... Since Kaleb had volunteered to take part in the ritual, she had been shaken by the possibility of his death. Now, as they were marching through Pan, about to begin the work of fortifying the shielding spell about the territory, it was no longer abstract to her. The fear was very real, and no matter how cool and collected Kaleb remained, she couldn't calm the thrashing of her heart or keep the tears from crowding in her eyes.
The procession continued until they arrived at the treasured old tree—and such was Minx's unease that she nearly overlooked its marked withering. Winterlimb, the ancient tenant of Pan whom all the Fae adored, had seen much better days. Bark, once dense and brown, had lately grown brittle and washed-out looking. Its lowest boughs had shrunken, the branches having taken on the look of drooping vines. The ground surrounding Winterlimb was littered with foliage, as though the leaves themselves had chosen to jump from a sinking ship. In this era of violent change, even Winterlimb could not wholly escape the corrupting
