Authors: V. Lakshman
Then Jesyn mindspoke,
His name was Tamlin.
Dragor knew that name, he’d heard it from Kisan’s memories. A pit formed in his stomach.
Had the dwarven leader been silent this whole time because he suspected? Had he been watching for signs of guilt?
Kisan killed Dazra’s brother…
Jesyn nodded, then said softly, “And somehow I think Dazra knows it.”
It’s always good to tip your barkeep.
They have access to your food when you can’t see them.
-
Alain the Farflung, A Guide to Westbay
Y
ou did well.” Valarius looked back at his armsmark as they entered a more private meeting chamber situated at the very edge of Avalyon. One half of the room opened to look out over Arcadia, the sky and clouds a majestic backdrop to the room’s smoothly organic table and chairs. The other half stood with draped walls hiding passages in and out for servants and necessary aides. Every surface was polished to a high sheen, a veritable display of the health and power of Avalyon for anyone to see.
His mind was still in turmoil at the news of losing Arek. It was a blow to their cause and worse, to his personal plans. Still, he could not entirely blame Gabreyl. Lilyth and her Furies were everywhere, and to run into two Watchers… the armsmark had truly done well in getting back here in one piece. That they had Niall was a pleasant and unexpected surprise. The boy would become a stalwart ally in the war, but first more pressing matters needed attention.
Gabreyl shook his head, his thoughts clearly still on the events at the henge. “We were unprepared for the attack.”
Valarius held up a hand. “Nothing unfolds as planned. You escaped with Niall and that has opened other opportunities for us.” He looked out over the magnificent expanse and said, “It is doubtful anyone survived the nephilim. You say they turn our elves dark?”
“Yes, Highlord,” Gabreyl replied. “They were mindless, using teeth and nails to rend and shred our men. I thought I saw them… feeding on us.”
Valarius thought about that. Though he was sure such creatures had existed since Sovereign’s Fall, he’d expected the possibility that Arek himself would hasten their creation given his dark gift. Indeed, the eradication of the Aeris necessitated the nephilim, but he had not expected his own elves to be turned. Their resistance to possession should have shielded them yet it had not. This was troubling. If the elves could be turned, it meant his timeline for leaving Arcadia would also be summarily accelerated. More reason to find Arek quickly and secure the gate at Bara’cor.
He looked back at Gabreyl and said, “You blame yourself. Do not, for few would have survived such a battle. You must focus on the needs of our people now.”
Gabreyl nodded but his eyes were downcast. “Do you remember my awakening?”
“Of course,” Valarius answered, “you were the youngest of us, yet you heard my call.”
“I came because I’m a Galadine and believe in you,” said the former king and armsmark. “I believe this world is a better place with our guiding hand. Yet now I question our choices. Have we done what is best by deed and action?”
Valarius looked at his armsmark, struck down and reborn during the interim years between the Demon Wars and now. The young man was an idealist, the kind that stayed devoted as long as he believed in the cause. Now doubt wormed its way in, weakening Gabreyl’s resolve. Valarius would not let that happen.
“The survival of Arcadia was never part of our plans, Messenger,” he reminded gently, though he could hear the edge in his own voice.
Gabreyl must have heard it too. The man’s eyes did not meet Valarius’s own when he said, “I know, it’s just that…”
When he trailed off, Valarius sighed and then put a firm hand on his commander’s shoulder. “We secure the gateway to Bara’cor. We leave Arcadia and the nephilim eradicate the Aeris. With nothing left to feed upon, they perish and Edyn is free. It is for this reason that we fight, no?”
The simple summation had its desired effect. Slowly, the armsmark nodded but said, “I had not thought it to be so difficult, leaving my men behind.”
“What you did was right.” He smiled then said, “Trust me.” His hand clapped the young commander’s arm. “Now summon the others so that we may take counsel and decide a course of action.”
Gabreyl bowed, fist to chest, then executed a perfect turn. In moments the five Galadine kings who served Valarius filed into the room.
Mikal took the lead, as he always did. Thick in limb and trunk, the king looked like he dwarfed his brother even though they stood of equal height. He was followed by gray-haired Ureyl and the slim Zedakai. Bringing up the rear was Israfel, his stern face and determined walk mirroring his rigid spirit, and finally, Gabreyl.
They stood waiting besides their chairs until Valarius had seated himself. Then all five sat as attendants came to stand silently behind each one, ready to provide assistance.
It was Mikal who spoke first, looking at the highlord and saying, “Valor is here.”
Valarius turned to his brother in life and said, “How do you know?”
A smile creased the lord’s face when he answered, “You don’t know the hours I spent under the armsmasters’ enthusiastic tutelage. The bow is a force, a presence, and trust me it’s here. I feel it in my bones.”
Israfel cleared his throat. “I, too, can feel it. I did not know it was Valor until my father gave name to its pull.” He looked around the room, his visage a burning intensity of thought. Israfel’s gaze pierced each man until it finally came to rest on Valarius. “Ill winds accompany it wherever it goes.”
“It depends on which side of the sight you stood.” Valarius shrugged, unfazed by Israfel’s directness and asked, “Can you find it?”
“Perhaps,” answered the brooding Mikal. “I would need help.”
Gabreyl looked around the room, confused. “Why? There are more pressing concerns.”
Valarius turned to his youngest Messenger and said, “If Valor is here, it means there’s also another Galadine here.”
Understanding dawned and Gabreyl was quick to offer, “Then let me aid my elder grandfather and lead the party to recover our kinsman.”
“If that’s the best path, yes. However, it may be we can entice whomever carries the bow to come here.” The highlord looked around the chamber and then counted off on his fingers. “We know it is not Bernal, for we have not heard from Firstmark Malak and only the realignment of the gate would give someone within Bara’cor access to Arcadia.” He paused, thinking, then raised a second finger. “It might be one of the few who entered this realm in search of the two boys, the ones brought by Lilyth.”
“Who is the Galadine amongst them?” asked Ureyl. While they knew a few had come through a portal shortly after Arek and Niall, they did not know who or their exact number. The question therefore hung in the air, unanswerable for the moment.
Valarius raised a third finger. “Likely the princess, Yetteje Tir, daughter to the failed Ben’thor Tir, who even now serves the Lady. I’d hoped it would be Niall who held the bow, but clearly he does not. The only reason to risk Arcadia is to rescue one or both of the boys.” He was quiet, thinking. He needed information, something only one person would have, but the question now was impropriety. He weighed the risks carefully, then looked at the room, uttering one word:
“Sonya.”
Cries of protest and surprise could be heard from the assembled kings. A gasp tore from Mikal’s lips and he said, “You cannot! Have we not already shamed ourselves enough?”
Valarius did not respond to that, but he bent his considerable will to the task and said, “I summon thee.”
Slowly, the form of Sonya appeared, her hands clasped before her. She solidified, looking at the men in the room, her eyes finally falling on Valarius. “My husband, protecting me against all harm.”
Valarius felt a knot in his throat and knew if he began discussing his actions he would not have the strength to continue. So instead he said, “Arek—who seeks to rescue him?”
The shade tossed her head, looking now at the table. Only Israfel met her gaze, the rest looking down or away. “Are you proud of yourselves, noble kings?”
First there was silence. Then Israfel said, “We did what we must to safeguard Edyn. You took an oath to do the same.”
“Then why not ask me!” she yelled.
Valarius held up a hand, silencing Israfel, and said, “Blood magic requires true sacrifice. My heart had to be broken to power a spell such as the one that sent Malak to Bara’cor. If I could have done anything else, I would have.” He knew he’d fallen into the very thing he wanted to avoid, but faced with Sonya’s shade he felt his will crumbling.
“Then why not transport us? Why not rescue us if you could breach Bara’cor? We could have left Arcadia and lived again,” she implored, her eyes searching his own.
He could not stand that scrutiny. “For how long? Running to Edyn would have only insured our deaths when Lilyth and her Aeris arrived. War is inevitable and if there’s to be any hope, desperate measures are needed.”
“So clinical, so logical,” she spat. “A true testament of what being loved by a Galadine means.”
“I’m sorry for the actions we must take,” Valarius said. “Now, you have a choice.”
Sonya’s shade looked down, shaking her head. It was not clear if she was listening or not until she said, “Use ‘we’ whenever possible, husband. It absolves you from the ignoble weight of ‘I.’ Nevertheless, I am bound to your summons to speak. I care not for your needs.”
Valarius drew a breath, surveying the room. Mikal had his head in his hands and most of the other kings looked grief-stricken. None it seemed wanted this to last longer than necessary. Only Israfel seemed untouched, but he had been the king who had overseen the genocide of the mages once his father Mikal had gone. Clearly his heart was not moved by one person’s plight. Valarius met eyes with him, drawing strength for his next request.
Then he looked back at Sonya and said, “Who seeks Arek?” When she did not answer, he said, “I compel you, shade.” His heart hardened too, and he said what he had to. “One thrust of my elven blade will give you true death and you shall never see your son in this life or any other. Weigh that against answering me.”
Sonya looked up in alarm. “You would threaten me with my son? Is there no end—”
“No!” shouted Valarius. “There is
no
end to what I will do to save our world from the Aeris.” He stepped forward and drew his blade, his peripheral vision catching his family’s heads as they dropped. No matter, he would kill her again if necessary, and this time the magic of his blade would mean true death. His was not an idle threat.
Sonya shrank back, her eyes flicking back and forth between the blade and his countenance. Whatever she saw there must have convinced her, for in a small, tremulous voice she said, “Duncan.”
Her proclamation caused a raised eyebrow from the elven king, who looked askance at his dead wife. “How do you know?”
“I saw him,” she admitted. “I think I know my former husband.”
“You told him Arek is his son?” Valarius’s voice did not rise, he simply asked the question with deadly intensity.
“Yes.” There was a hint of challenge in her voice, but Valarius did not react to it.
Instead, he merely said, “Indeed. Does he think we have him?”
Sonya looked down then gave a hesitant shake of her head. She stood a little straighter, as if the act of telling had somehow removed some of her culpability. “I told him not to come here.”
“Then it is certain he will,” replied Valarius, his eyes measuring her for any sign of conflict. He could only see fear and sadness, normal given what had happened just now. He could live with that.
He looked out over the open skies of Arcadia, his mind deep in thought. “Duncan Illrys… I owe him much for his betrayal.”
Mikal cleared his throat and said, “And that has been paid for in full and more. I let loose the arrow that—”
“Brought Sonya to me.” Valarius looked meaningfully at Mikal, then at Sonya. His will was such that neither argued the point. “Do not be so quick to shoulder his blame. He was weak, powerless, and ineffectual. My benevolence left me vulnerable to Duncan’s trickery. Along with Rai’stahn, the two of them deserve my attention more than most.”
Mikal shook his head at that, imploring, “Let it go, Val. What has he left? You took everything that mattered. Are we not Galadines, called upon to be nobler in word and deed? When will your thirst for vengeance be slaked?” He pointed to Sonya. “Bringing her here is unseemly of you.”
Valarius looked at the king, his eyes narrowing as his mind raced through possible outcomes. If Duncan was here and looking for his son, how would he find him? Oftentimes it was easier to put oneself in another’s place, so the highlord asked himself how he would pursue this if their positions were reversed. He had already taken the first step by having Gabreyl suggest that the highlord was Arek’s father. That would give the boy purpose, a goal to strive for. Now the question was how to properly motivate Duncan?
He looked at Sonya again, the love of his life, dead by his hand. He knew she could not materially affect anything, yet Duncan’s plight might sway her to do what she could to protect him, so how could he turn that to his advantage?
“You offered him help?” he asked her, entirely ignoring Mikal’s earlier plea.
Sonya nodded. “I thought to lead him to where he might find allies.”
“Good,” he said. Then he added, “Very good.” He thought for a moment more, knowing the key to getting here would be the henges. “You will not lead him anywhere. Instead, I will send him Tulien and a contingent of elves. He is the newest.”