Read Analindë (The Chronicles of Lóresse) Online
Authors: Melissa Bitter
“I will know,” Master Therin said firmly. Pushing his way past his colleagues, he strode to the door and past the guard. The other High Mages followed in his wake. Halfway down the Hall of Banners, they caught sight of her. She looked haggard and thin; the journey had been rough on her. He didn’t know how she’d survived the trek. How would she ever forgive him? He felt such incredible shame. He sensed nothing from her, not even the quiet melody that sang to his mind when she was near, which worried him.
Gasps and murmurs of dismay followed him as he approached.
The fools,
Therin thought to himself as they formed a semi-circle behind him and spun out spells of protection. He noticed others pale and murmur words such as ‘the unseen’ before taking a hasty step back.
Therin looked first to the senior officer standing at Analindë’s left and the melted trident he held in his hands, then to Analindë. “Analindë?” He stepped forward and opened his arms, welcoming her into them with a gesture.
With a sob, Analindë lurched forward, stumbling as she came. Therin caught her and held her tight as she sobbed his name against his shoulder. He brushed her head with his hand, cradling her closely, as he murmured soothing, reassuring sounds to comfort her. His heart ached for the things she had seen and been forced to learn. How would she ever recover? How had she reached the school. He’d never thought to see her again. Was it really her? She shuddered in his arms like a sputtering candle about to go out. And then it happened.
Her shielding finally dropped.
A sweet melody filled his mind; it tasted of gentle breezes through pine forests. It
was
her. Gasps echoed across the hall, and then everyone spoke at once.
“Send for the healers.”
“Who is the traitor?” someone shouted.
“Do you sense her power?”
“I cannot believe it.”
“Who were they? Can you describe them?”
“What did they want?”
High Lord Mallhawion cut them off with a gesture, ushering them all back into the Grand Council Chamber with a wave of his hand. With the aid of a spell, Therin picked Analindë up and carried her into the room. He sat upon a padded bench off to the side and cradled her close as she struggled to control her tears.
“Send for Andulmaion,” ordered Therin. A page nodded, then disappeared from the room.
High Lord Mallhawion hushed the chattering mages surrounding him, “Rácion, give us your report.” He swiveled away from Therin and Analindë to face the entrance where the two officers waited, both of them House Guards. A rustle sounded through the room and silence fell as the council mages settled to listen.
Rácion, the senior officer, stepped forward. “High Lord Mallhawion, Analindë passed the scouts and sentries posted along the forest trail, from the edge of the valley to our very door without notice. She asked entrance but could not be seen. Bälédur asked that she show herself.” He gestured to the sentry. “She appeared directly in front of him.”
“And your trident?”
“None of our
aprenti
could sense her, and knowing of the stories passed down to us from the Elven Wars, with a traitor in the land I thought to try her shield. The shield was too strong to pierce.” He held up his trident. “There is now a small pool of metal in the courtyard. The stories did not tell of that. . . . I do believe it caused her pain.” He grimaced, then looked away.
“So they are of no use to us then?” one of the mages asked.
“I do believe in those days they knew their enemy and struck first to kill. I pinned her shield to warn, siding with caution in the event that it
was
Analindë.” Then Rácion added, “It felt as if I hit faceted stone: hard, unyielding, slippery, with ridges.” A few nodded knowingly in the circle.
Mallhawion turned to Therin, “Can she yet speak?”
Analindë nodded to him, then shifted to sit up straight beside Therin, causing a stir in the room. The poor girl looked ready to topple off the bench. “Three humans came, one woman and two men. One of them was a Human wizard. I was in the woods on an errand for . . . ” her lip quivered, “for my mother when I felt a powerful backlash from a broken ward or spell. I then saw billowing smoke in the sky. When I arrived, I found Glendariel and her husband dead. Murdered.”
“I saw three humans enter the great house; the west-wing was a pile of rubble.” Analindë paused for a moment; the only sound to fill the room was the scratch of quill on paper. Her eyes filled with tears and then she spoke again. “Riian told me to hide as I would be safer and less of a distraction out of the way. He ran into the house.” The scratching continued, then stopped, waiting for her to go on. An uncomfortable silence descended on the room.
“I heard raised voices; mother and father were inside with Riian. I . . . felt a surge of power greater than I’ve ever felt anyone summon. It rose and peaked in waves and generated energies that I did not recognize. When the crescendoing waves of power finally burst, it physically knocked me over.” She turned to look at Therin, “I . . . I didn’t understand what had happened. First there was silence, a long moment of silence. Then laughter. When the Humans came back out of the great house, I still didn’t understand.” Her face fell.
She looked up at the High Lord Mallhawion and the others. “I heard them say that they would have to look for the Mageborn Books in the Mountain City since ours were destroyed.”
“The Mageborn Books,” Master Sírewen the Sea City mage mused. “I had thought they were legend.”
“They are,” someone answered.
“And the Elven betrayer?” Mallhawion turned back to the young woman. An anticipatory silence hung heavy in the room.
“They said that Gildhorn would be furious if I escaped.” Shock was echoed in all but a few faces, and understanding and thoughtfulness resonated in those few. Mallhawion ignored them and instead focused on the haggard face in front of him.
“Send for the historians and for the loremasters of the Southeastern Plains,” he heard Noriel, the Forest City mage, say behind him. A page ran to the door and passed the message along to another waiting just outside the chamber.
“My Lord, I almost forgot,” Analindë said.
The High Lord stepped closer and nodded.
“There was an amulet. I saw the Human wizard tucking it beneath his robes as he exited the great house. It had Elvish markings and was made of silver with green enamel.” The young woman’s earnest eyes searched his face looking for something he hoped she would not find. He nodded, then turned to watch as the healers slipped into the room.
Laerwen, his Chief Healer, strode directly toward them, took one look at Analindë’s gaunt body, and state of exhaustion, then bluntly asked him, “Are you yet finished with her?”
“One more question,” Mallhawion answered. “Analindë,” he knelt close to her, and gently clasped her hand in his. Her hand was cold. “Your parents and brother, what did you find?”
Her eyes would haunt his dreams for many nights to come, the stars in them faded. “Nothing my Lord. I searched and searched but found no trace. If they lived, they would not have left me.” Her face fell. “And the laughter . . . “
At Mallhawion’s nod, Laerwen stepped forward and put Analindë into a deep healing sleep. Therin laid his young charge down onto the couch and moved away as healers crowded in around her.
“Too much too quickly–” was followed by tsking noises.
“I wonder if they’ll heal.”
“–burnt to a crisp–”
“You know they used to die often like this.”
“Shhh, don’t say things like that,” someone gasped.
“–she’ll need two weeks at least–”
“Surely not.”
“Yes.”
“No, three, I insist.”
“We’ll see how it goes.”
“Have you ever seen the size–”
“No, not since Nyärwen during my mother’s time.”
The mages exchanged glances, then moved away from the upset healers. “I did that to her,” Master Therin stated guiltily to friends.
“You could not have known,” said Noriel.
“Yes, but I scared her. I was so frantic. I had finally found her, and then she ran from me into that.” He gestured toward her. “The Human wizard was sending out enough death strikes to affect the Energy flow for miles around. I looked for hours and finally found her when she started a fire to warm herself.
“I should have come to find a few of you first, to help build a portal to go myself, but it would have taken hours, and I was so worried. I thought– . . . and by the time we built the portal, she was gone and I couldn’t track her.” Therin shook his head, “She had not yet learned to draw on energies outside her own.”
“She has learned now,” voiced Sírewen, the Sea City mage. “It is beautiful. Have you yet looked?” Her question went unanswered. “It’s a good thing she taught herself the alternate plane shielding; she would have died from the pain had the shield not kept it from her,” she shook her head.
Therin gripped his hands together. “She learned quite a bit about shielding those first few days,” he mused. “I had a difficult time working my way through the ones she created, and the last couple she set me were quite . . . difficult to unravel from a distance. She might have a few things to teach me when she has recovered.” A wry smile flashed briefly across his face. Then he soberly looked back at his pupil, “I hope for her parents’ sake that she heals quickly and wholly.”
A knock sounded at the door. Andulmaion entered the Grand Council Chamber poised, tranquil, and with a polite look of inquiry on his face. Therin was pleased. The young elve had probably dashed to the council room, but didn’t look it. Therin watched him glance from the couch where Analindë lay with healers clustered about her and then to the High Council mages. “You sent for me?” He bowed gracefully to the High Lord, who in turn gestured to Therin.
Therin studied the strongest and brightest apprentice he’d taught in centuries. “We have an important duty for you to perform.” He ignored the uncomfortable thought that at one hundred fifty-two years, Andulmaion was long since ready to begin his
tuvalië
. In fact, as of late, he’d never had to work so hard to keep a mental grasp on an apprentice.
“Yes, my Lord.”
He should have sent Andulmaion out last year. Annoyed, Therin pushed back at the jabbing pulse of Energy that flared along their connection and re-established his mental dominance.
“You will move your belongings back to my tower, then stay and keep watch over Analindë.” He ignored the covert glances that many of the council members exchanged. “If the Human wizard can defeat three Mages of Lindënolwë single-handedly, then who knows what he is capable of sending. The traitors want her dead. I think you’ll serve nicely as temporary guardian. It is doubtful that an attack or threat will make it through the school’s defenses unnoticed, but in the event one does, it is hoped that you will recognize and neutralize it.”
While Therin spoke, Andulmaion’s face stilled, his eyes turned thoughtful. “Of course my Lord.” He bowed low again and moved toward the group of healers.
High Lord Mallhawion spoke, “Laerwen, what are your plans?”
Laerwen stepped away from the couch, where Analindë lay in the healing sleep she’d placed her in and replied, “I will keep watch throughout the night and Vinriel will take over in the morning. Once Analindë has stabilized, we will reduce our watch to a few times a day to monitor her progress.”
High Lord Mallhawion stood up, “So be it.” Therin watched the powerful mage turn to Rácion and say, “Thank your men for their hard work. Send word to your scouts and sentries that she is found and will be well. Reduce their watch accordingly. Alert the Court of the High Lady and the other cities of Gildhorn’s betrayal, and warn the Mountain City of the humans’ intentions.”
“It will be done,” said Rácion. The house guards bowed low and left the room. The healers had moved Analindë to a stretcher while High Lord Mallhawion had spoken. Therin studied the daughter of his friend as they towed her toward the door. To his senses her entire body throbbed as if on fire. Andulmaion’s face betrayed nothing as he followed the healers out of the room. Therin looked on in approval. His young apprentice had finally learned to hide his thoughts and emotions, which boded well for his path in life.