The Coming Storm (41 page)

This was news to Elon.

“Perhaps it would have been different if he hadn’t gone on but he did. After Caleah, though, he was forgotten. In the end it doesn’t matter,” Talesin said, sadly. “They won’t destroy her for what she is, they will destroy her for what she is not.”

Elon went cold. “I don’t understand.”

Gently, Talesin said, “Don’t you, Elon? How is it that you see her? She that looks so much like the race of men? She’s young in life but old in soul. Is it that you see her as part-Elven or not-Elven? How can you blame others if they think the same? They’ll see her as being not-them, not of them, not one, not the other. Not that she’s of all of us but that she’s not part of each of them. How will you convince others to see her as being not-different when you can’t see it yourself? To see her as she is, as being Elven, plus the others. Not what she isn’t but what in truth she is.”

That shook him. It also unsettled him more than a little. Was that what he saw when he looked at her? At Ailith. Was it true?

Elon feared it was.

Talesin gave him a moment to think on it.

“Elon, in all but appearance she is of our race. Perhaps even a purer form of it, in a way. We know this of Otherlings. They can’t lie. Our people don’t. It’s not that we can’t, we simply don’t. It’s alien to us, this concept of deception. You can’t lie, heart to heart, mind to mind, as we express our deepest emotions among ourselves. Touch to touch, no lie will hold. Our concept of Honor, even, is intrinsic to her in all ways. A vow is more binding on her even than on us, who hold our Honor so dear. If she pledges a thing she must honor it, whether she wills it or no. That we also know. Think on that.”

No, touch to touch, nothing could truly be hidden. Elon remembered well Ailith’s openness and trust when she laid her hand in his. She couldn’t lie but she could dissemble in her own way, as she had by allowing Tolan to believe the soul-eater had her in its grasp. Touch to touch, though, he’d seen her true spirit. She’d left heart and soul open to him.

He’d seen the truth of her, felt it when he Healed her and when she’d grieved.

Talesin’s dark eyes rested on him.

“It’s not to your discredit, Elon. It’s hard to look upon someone so clearly different and to see the similarities but not the differences. It’s to your great credit you trusted your instincts and held to your Honor in spite of all. That took great courage. It still does. To fly in the face of tradition and all you’ve been taught as true. It would seem there’s a reason you’ve been chosen to lead. And at this time more than any.”

“One more thing and then I’ll leave you for a time to your thoughts.”

“Ailith is the daughter of a King, born and raised to lead, not follow. Like us, she sees that as a duty, not a privilege. Witness her taking the horses, and her response to my challenge. She has wit and she’s quick. She has magic, although I sense she’s only just learning how much magic she has. I suspect I’ll learn more when we gather shortly. Magic is power, as I know well. She could have done many things – taken her chances and gone her own way or thrown herself on the not so tender mercies of this Council you helped create. She did neither. She came to you. What a risk that was for her, knowing what she was. She had to know the stories, they’re oft told. Yet she did. How is it she follows you?”

He paused again, looked at Elon.

“I would suggest you ask her.”

With that, Talesin walked away.

Was it true? As loath as Elon was to admit it, he feared  it was.

He was as guilty of this as Colath had been of judging her not the daughter of a King. He hadn’t thought such of himself. It disturbed him in ways he couldn’t yet examine. As did those other questions. She couldn’t lie. Yet she had wit and intelligence enough to know how to dissemble. As he knew. Even so she’d told him that if he asked, she would tell him who had gifted her with her swords, and she’d meant it. Guileless, not for lack of wit but because it was her nature to be so, not her magic. There had never been time to consider why she’d come to him, only that she had. He’d wanted her to, even after he knew what she was. It had never truly been a consideration to turn her away, even when she offered. Why, in fact, had she come to him?

Thoughtfully, he walked back toward the vale. As he neared he could see the others gathered and waiting.

Jareth had found his favorite seat. He was perched on the rail, his back to one of the colonnades rather than a wall. For a wonder, he looked neater than was usual. It was somewhat strange seeing him in Elven robes.

He was talking to Colath, who had also changed into more comfortable clothing.

They both looked up as Jalila descended the stair. It had been some time since Elon had seen Jalila in anything other than a Hunter’s working clothes. It was a welcome change.

Behind her was Ailith. She paused for a moment on the next to last step to respond to something Colath said.

Ailith, in Elven robes. It gave Elon pause.

Despite her smaller stature, they suited her.

She stood, slender and straight, the cloth draping a form more curved than that of most Elven women, a slender golden chain encircling her waist.

Stopping still, Elon simply observed.

Her sun-streaked chestnut hair wasn’t tied back as was her wont but caught up at the sides in narrow beaded braids Elven-style. Jalila’s work, no doubt. The rest spilled down her back in waves, glinting gold and red in the setting sunlight. Elon could see the strong fine lines of Ailith’s features and the curve of her ears, more finely shaped than those of the race of men. The blue of the dress brought out the blue in her eyes so sharply they were striking even at this distance.

In her stillness, though, she was Elven and even more so in spirit.

“It’s amazing,” said a voice from beside him, “how many similarities there are when you look.”

Talesin, walking past him and up the steps.

“Coming?”

Descending the stairs to the broad stone gallery, Ailith understood something of Jareth’s wonder at Aerilann. If this was anything like an Elven Enclave, then she shared that wonder. What must it be like then, to be in Aerilann itself, or any Elven Enclave?

Everything here was so open, so green and alive.

It was something of a shock to see both Colath and Jareth in the same sort of Elven-style robes and yet Colath wore them with the familiarity and comfort with which he wore his working clothes. He, too, wore green but of a paler shade than that of Jalila’s. Like Talesin, his eyes were light in color but where Talesin’s were the color of fog, Colath’s were the shade of sea-foam.

Those Elven-style robes even suited Jareth, who didn’t wear them so comfortably. They set his gangly form to better effect and made the most of his broad shoulders. The color suited him as well, a shade of brown like Marakisian coffee with cream, nearly the same color as Jalila’s skin. Fondly, she thought even he couldn’t make those robes match his usual dishevelment.

As she descended the stairs, both looked up, Jareth startled while Colath looked approving.

“Ala, Elon,” Colath called, “we were wondering where you were. Come look at our Ailith, she’s become one of us.”

“So I see,” Elon said, joining them. “It suits her well.”

If Elon had looked striking in simple traveling clothes in Riverford’s Great Hall, he was even more so now. The very simplicity of the robes, a long outer jacket open down the front over an inner robe Jalila had said could be left uncinched or not as the wearer chose, suited him very well. His outer robe was the color of pewter, the inner one the color of old silver and was cinched at the waist with a belt to match the outer robe. It made much of his broad swordsman’s shoulders.

With a lift of her brow that would have done any of their people proud, Ailith responded with a small smile, “I’ve always been told I clean up well.”

There was a strange look in Elon’s eyes, something different but there was no time for her to look more closely.

 “Very well,” Jareth said. “You look every inch a King’s daughter, as well as an Elven equal among equals.”

He pointedly didn’t look at Colath.

Bowing gravely, Colath said, “I’ve stood corrected many times on this count but never so much as at this moment.”

Ailith’s mouth twitched. “I didn’t take offense then but I’ll take the compliment now. Be careful, Colath, that you’re not taking Gwillim’s example to much to heart. I won’t know what to do if this keeps up.”

 “I assume,” Talesin said, “there is a reason  you have come to me. Other than that Ailith is Otherling.”

Ailith went still. She glanced quickly at Elon in question.

He nodded in response to her look. “He knows.”

“I’ve known since you first arrived,” Talesin said, kindly. “Have no fear here. It’s of no moment for now but we should talk later.”

There was no threat there but a gentle command. Looking into his gray eyes, ageless and ancient at once, she nodded.

“So?” Talesin said, turning to the others. “There are questions.”

Elon nodded. “Several. Not least of which is this.”

From a pocket within the robes he drew out the silk-wrapped charm, withdrawing the wards he had put on it.

There was an instant change in the air.

Frowning, his pale eyes darkening, Talesin stood straighter and then held his hand out to take it. With a wave of his hand, he banished Jareth’s wards as well and then quickly set new ones. He didn’t open it.

“Where did you get this?”

“A man named Tolan,” Ailith said. “My mother wore it.”

His gaze sharpened. There was new grief in her voice, well-hidden but there. That wasn’t where the tale started, though.

“I think we should start at the beginning.”

Taking a deep breath, Elon began. The telling took some time. By the time he finished the sun had dipped low on the horizon, hidden behind the trees.

With a simple gesture, Talesin set an elf-light to glowing. He looked at Ailith. “Can you do that?”

Tilting her head, she examined the light.

“I don’t know,” she said, softly.

“How did you Heal?” Talesin said. “You learned from Elon? When he Healed you?”

She nodded. “I believe so.”

“We’ll talk later, you and I.”

He sighed.

“I had hoped that this time would come when another Elf would be wizard as well. I’m too old. I’ve fought this war once already.”

Elon straightened a little.

As a beginning, that didn’t bode well. In the back of his mind had been a fear. His foresight twitching in response. Was it about to be confirmed?

Something about Talesin’s tone caught Jareth’s attention also. He didn’t like the sound of that.

Colath felt it, that ominous tone, with a sinking in his heart. A look at Jalila confirmed she as well didn’t like the direction this was taking.

“I felt the Darkness rise,” Talesin said, with sorrow and grim regret. “We’d thought this battle won. Ailith, you won’t have heard this tale, being raised among men. Those folk don’t speak of it much, with reason. The others will know it. A time past, when men and Elves weren’t always friends and sometimes enemies. When Dwarves and Elves fought each other as well. Nothing unites so well as a common enemy, though. It would be the beginning of this time that you know. Five hundred years ago and it started among the race of men. Among the wizards.”

“In the battles between Men and Elves, men couldn’t defeat us. Though our numbers were fewer we had strength of arms and skill. Understand, Ailith, we never sought battle, that’s not our way and never has been. The race of men is prolific and aggressive where we are not. We fought to defend our lands and our people.”

Ailith looked at him. “I’ve heard tales enough and know history enough to know that part of my heritage has fought among themselves for lesser reasons.”

With a resigned nod, Talesin said, “Sadly, that’s true. There was no Collegium of wizards then, each Kingdom had its own wizard or wizards if it could and the least scrap of magic was prized. Any advantage over another, or especially over us, counted. Some among those wizards experimented with darker magics. Blood magic using pain and suffering to augment their power. Using their own people or captives of the wars. Elves, particularly, were prized for such things. Stronger, longer-lived, we lasted longer under duress and our magic enhanced theirs.”