Karil smiled. “Of course. I only wanted to see you for myself first, and I am glad I did.” Again, the woman made reference as if she knew him, as if he were a character from a story. She must have seen his curiosity, for she continued. “I apologize. Sometimes I have heard that it is truly elvin to talk in riddles, and Mura has a fondness for it as well. I am not an inhabitant of Lakewood. My home is Eldas, the home of the elves.”
Gray was breathless. He looked around to see if any others heard, but it seemed talking with her had made a ring of space between them and the others. “An elf,” he whispered. “I thought they, I mean you, were only stories.”
“Come,” Karil motioned him to follow, and Gray obeyed. She led him around the corner of the palace to a bench beneath a yen tree, hidden from the crowds. Before he could speak, Karil withdrew her scarlet hood, unveiling her features. Silver eyes. They held a startling luminescence. The rest of her was equally captivating. She had high cheekbones, a narrow chin, and a slender neck. Pointed ears stuck out from her straight, long white-blond hair.
He turned his eyes, and apologized.
“Do not apologize,” she replied, “The sight of an elf is a strange thing to many, though in truth I am only half-elf, unlike Rydel.” She motioned to Rydel who stood respectfully behind her. He pulled back his hood. Rydel had an angular nose, a strong jaw and longer pointed ears. He noticed the more human side of Karil in contrast.
“I was not surprised because you are an elf,” he said at last, then amended, “Well, not entirely. I just never expected elves to be so beautiful.” Karil’s eyes fanned wide, and he could tell he caught her off guard. “Sorry,” he said, “I realize how that sounded.”
“Don’t be. I was pleasantly surprised, that’s all. And I wasn’t sure if the comment was for Rydel either,” she teased.
He laughed and glanced to Rydel. The elf said nothing. He could teach a rock how to show less emotion. “Why did you bring me here?”
“To see if the sight of an elf would trigger memories of your past, but it seems it does not.”
“So Mura told you of that as well?”
“He did. What is more, no one besides you and Mura know that I am half-elf,” she said, “People of this land are accustomed only to their stories. If any of those stories actually became true, I’m afraid of how they would react.”
“You think if the people of this town saw an elf they would be… what, afraid? Don’t you think they are wiser than that?” He wondered if he was overstepping his boundaries.
Karil did not seem provoked. “Fear and ignorance is a powerful thing, Gray, and something to be cautious of, but you are right—I simply worry that they would not understand, and they do not need another thing to cope with at this moment. Daerval is in enough turmoil as it stands.”
Gray nodded. “I don’t mean to be rude, but if you’re done with me…”
Karil held a smile in her silver eyes. “You would like to see Mura,” she stated, lifting her hood and hiding her features once more.
“Do you know where I can find him?”
“Ah, but you must be famished from your long journey. Are you hungry?”
Gray realized as his stomach growled, that he was starving. “Starving, now that you mention it.”
“Then I’d venture my way to the Great Hall.” She pointed up the hill. “That would be a good place to look, if I were you.” Her silver eye winked within her hood. “And be at ease within these walls, Gray, I know your journey has been long and hard.”
Bowing and thanking them both—even the quiet statue-like elf—Gray took his leave. Moving through the dark courtyard, his stomach churned, and fear and elation collided with one another after the many long days. He hadn’t stopped worrying about the hermit, and to know he was alive and well and within reach made him overjoyed.
More people walked the paths of the keep, now lit with orange lanterns. Gray found himself searching their faces, looking for Mura. Impatiently, he picked up his pace, racing through the courtyard and heading towards the Great Hall.
A Vision of Death
V
ERA KNELT BEFORE THE FIRE.
S
HE
warmed her hands on the flames, but the cold was bone-deep. She couldn’t stop her body from shaking. She looked over her shoulder.
They sat in a small room. It was bare, save for a wood chair whose legs and back she had already used for kindling. An entry at the far side of the room showed a black night. She loathed the night, for it meant coldness and hunger. Somehow in the day, she could distract herself from the pain of her gnawing gut.
Within arm’s reach, Kirin lay fast asleep. He was curled, arms wrapped around his small body, shivering in his sleep. Her heart panged. Why did he have to be so quiet? So unassuming in his pain and suffering? With every waking moment Vera felt her anger and bitterness grow. But Kirin never said a word. Instead, he merely pushed forward. Twice he had nearly been caught for stealing a loaf of bread for the two; and the price for theft in Farbs was steep—the loss of a hand or even death was the toll for quick fingers. And still, he would smile and give her the bigger half. She envied his perseverance.
Quietly, she removed her cloak, wrapping it around his tiny, gaunt frame when a figure entered, head scraping the ceiling. Immediately, her heart darkened. She pressed herself against the wall. “Who are you?” she asked.
It spoke and the walls quaked, “A nightmare.” The voice was like thunder. She couldn’t see its face within its hood, but she knew it was smiling. It loomed, its frame nearly filling the room with malevolence.
“Leave us alone! If you’re looking for food or money, we don’t have any…”
“Enough,” it said coldly, cutting her off. “This is a dream. Break this foolish illusion, Vera, or I will break it for you.”
As if waking, she looked around. Instead of rags, she wore her midnight black dress with its long slit at the top of her thigh. Instead of the cloak around Kirin, it was the thick cape she had fashioned from the hide of a disobedient verg. She shook her head, and rose to her feet. She eyed the man before her, and suddenly it all made sense. He’d found her. A dark dread, a thousand times more terrifying than before seeped beneath her flesh. She breathed and it misted in the suddenly frozen air.
“Kneel,” he breathed.
Without hesitation, she pressed her face to the hard clay ground. “Master…”
“A touching image,” he said, head turning to take in the small room, “You disappoint me.”
“Master, I live only to serve… I—”
He interrupted her. “You still have feelings for him, don’t you?”
She looked up, catching his gaze. He meant Kirin. “He is nothing to me,” she seethed.
“Truly,” he replied, eyeing the cloak that warmed the boy.
“A dream and reality are far different things,” she retorted.
“Is that so? He tried to save your life that day, but still you wish to kill him and retrieve Morrowil?”
Vera neared the sleeping Kirin. Grabbing the ruby-throated dagger from behind her back, she smoothly unsheathed the blade and drove it towards his chest with a cry. The boy gasped, eyes opening as blood spouted from his chest. Vera cut with ruthless precision. Two cuts. She severed the major veins and his eyes flickered, closing as the last of his breath fled. “Do not doubt me. Nothing matters but the blade. I will bathe in blood before it is done.”
The figure sneered, but still she couldn’t see his face. He waved his hand and the boy disappeared like smoke. “That is yet to be proven.” Suddenly his fist clenched, muttering beneath his breath, and terror filled Vera.
Her hand tingled as if a flame was embedded just beneath the skin. “What are you doing?”
“You didn’t think your betrayal would escape my eye, did you?”
“No! I simply tried to…”
“Your orders were simple. You were to follow the Kage.” His form grew bigger, nearing, words rattling the room.
“I did as you commanded! You told me—”
“SILENCE!”
Vera trembled, feeling her mind bend as if unhinging before his presence. “I… What do you want of me, my lord?”
“I want you to obey. I saved you that day for a reason. It seems I was wrong to have done so. You’ve failed me.” He flicked his hand and suddenly a fire burst upon her hand. She watched in horror as scarlet flames consumed her flesh, eating her fingers one at a time, burning her alive.
She screamed, “What is this?”
“I’m undoing what I did so long ago.”
“No,” she cried, “Without your spell, I will die!” The flame continued to burn, reaching her wrist, eating at her arm. Fire lit the walls, burning the small room and the dark man remained still. “Please, save me! I was simply trying to find the boy! The Kage are wrong! We must think ahead of him!”
The figure lifted a hand.
The flesh-eating flame stopped, but still the room’s inferno burned until her face was drenched in sweat. She tried to think, tried to form words in her frantic mind. “He… he will evade the Kage, he is smart and there are others on his side, helping him. At this rate, we will never get the blade.”
“Then what do you propose? How would you take the blade? Speak quickly.”
“We use the dark army to flush out the boy,” she said.
His head tilted, stalking forward like a hungry wolf. “Go on.”
A small smirk creased her face as she gripped her white-boned wrist in agony, “To catch a rat, you must first scare it from its nest. Burn its home to the ground, then the flame and smoke will push the rodent from its hovel towards waiting arms.”
He lifted his hand and the scarlet flames danced around her bone arm. “Speak plainly. My patience is already at its limit.”
“The boy is in Lakewood, use the Kage and the rest of your minions to siege the town and flush him out.”
“And if he escapes?”
She couldn’t help but grin wickedly, “Then I’ll be waiting and we shall spring the trap upon our little rat.” One way or the other, Kirin, you will be mine.
The looming black figure was silent, and then a dark laugh echoed off the walls and the flames danced. “A foolproof plan, it seems.”
She bowed her head lower. “I live only to serve, my lord.”
“No,” he said and dark power filled his voice, “you live only because I allow you to, and I will ensure that you continue to do so.”
Vera gasped as a chill entered her—it sunk beneath her flesh and gripped her bones. “What are you doing?”
“Insurance,” he said and closed his eyes. Vera watched as a single thread of the element of flesh appeared, drawing from her skin. It was blindingly bright with power. Suddenly, like a spider’s web dissolving before a flame, it evaporated. The figure looked up. She felt her blood freeze. Dark-red peered from his cowl and into her soul, as if his eyes were globes of blood. “It is finished.”
Her skin glowed translucently. “What is this?” she asked, touching skin that felt soaked in oil.
“You have two weeks to kill the boy and obtain Morrowil.”
“And if I fail?” she asked.
“The potent threads I wove long ago to keep the darkness at bay are unraveling. If you fail, or your sentiments towards the boy are untrue, then the darkness of the blade will eat at you. The remnants of Morrowil’s magic will consume your flesh bit by bit until the death I spared you from takes you once again. And this time, there will be no returning from the grave.”
Abruptly, Vera had a flashing memory of a dark night.
The room was filled with broken furniture and dead bodies. Blood ran across the stone—it was her own. She eyed it in confusion as she rose to her feet, a strange spell coursing through her veins as she eyed the tall figure before her.
“Who are you?” she asked, looking up at the terrifying form—he was taller than any mere man. Instead of clothes, black flames wreathed his wide-frame. A demon… her mind whispered.
“You may address me as ‘my lord’. I have spared you from death, Vera. But the price is your life. You will be my servant from now until I release you, if I so choose. If you fail me, however, you will regret your salvation from death, for I will show you a pain this world has never known.”
She pushed the memory aside, returning to the moment.
“And… when I succeed?” she said, choosing her words confidently despite her rising terror.
“If you obtain the blade, the spell will return and you will once again be spared from true death.”
Vera nodded, feigning confidence. Before she could respond, he spoke. This time his voice thundered in her skull, rattling her to her core and she closed her eyes, grabbing her head to keep it from splitting in two. “Find the boy, and take Morrowil, or die. Now go, but do not think I will be far. I am watching you always. And if you ever betray me again, this visit will seem a pleasant dream.”
When she opened her eyes, he was gone. The fire before and flames upon the wall died in a rush and suddenly the nightmare collapsed.
Her eyes snapped wide. Darkness enveloped her. Nearby, she felt Drefah’s presence. The huge wolf’s fur ruffled from a breeze. Otherwise, the night was quiet. Separated from her Niux’s camp, the snarls and grunts of sleeping vergs and saeroks were distant. There was a faint glow beneath her blanket and she lifted her covers.