Analindë (The Chronicles of Lóresse) (4 page)

Simple yet effective, the board was primitive. It was simply a matter of activating and combining colored stones with words to create the right message. She pressed the ruby, which in this case meant War and the blood-red stone began to pulse with light. She pressed the number three and the word Human, and they glowed softly. Words formed below on the copper sheeting.

Swallowing a lump in her throat, her hand hovered over the number two for a long while before she moved her hand to gently caress the number five and the word Elven. She then pressed the onyx stone,
Death
. The black stone pulsed with an odd light. She quickly pressed the number one and the cat’s-eye stone,
Alive
. Then the canary stone,
Stay Away,
or in her case,
Do Not Attempt Rescue
. Stones pulsed faintly and words glowed softly; she hoped it was an indication of stealth, not that the board was too weak or old to send the message. By now her message should have appeared on all of the boards across the Realm, the doors to their cupboards thrown open wherever they lay hidden—in closets, kitchens, and grand halls—a faint buzzing sound projected to all who could hear it.

Analindë searched the board in front of her for a way to warn them about Gildhorn. Frustrated at the lack of choices, she pressed the word Elven again, then the amethyst stone which in this case would signify
Betrayal
.
Finished, she reached for the clear stone at the bottom right and heard faint voices coming from the front of the great house. She quickly pressed the stone to end the message. Numbers, words, and stones flared brightly then began to fade. Moments later the copper sheeting rippled, then shifted to a blank state.

It was done.

The Human voices sounded closer, spurring her into action. She carefully slipped back across the room and into the pantry, avoiding shards of glass, and dragged the scout pack off her back. She pulled food off the floor and shelves and piled it onto a counter: dried and fresh fruits, cured meats, cheeses, journey bars, nuts, and a couple of small loaves of honey wheat bread freshly-baked yesterday. Poor Glendariel. Analindë’s face contorted immediately into a grimace of sorrow and a sob welled up. She immediately swallowed it back down, cursing herself silently. She couldn’t cry; they’d hear her.

She quickly thought through escape routes as she shoved items into her pack. It was pretty straightforward and simple. Escape the valley, then choose. Mirëdell and Mirëtasarë were the closest cities, but each was a two-week journey from Lindënolwë. For the third time in her life Analindë wished that their little valley was not so isolated from the rest of the Realm.

Mirëdell was one day closer than Mirëtasarë. And Master Therin was at Mirëdell, which were two marks in favor of the school. Either city would work, but the paths were known to her only by map. Her family had never traveled by foot to the school but had always gone by portal. Supposedly one of her ancestors had blazed a trail long ago to the school. The question was, would she be able to find it? More importantly, would it still be there?

She hesitated, wondering if she should hide and wait for someone to come rescue her? Perhaps the guard would be sent. But she immediately discarded that idea. She’d told them to stay away. And it
had
been a good decision to push that canary stone on the board. It was a stupid idea to stand idly beside the portal hoping someone authorized and keyed to her home would just happen to activate it.

If she lingered by the portal not only would the Humans easily find and kill her but anyone else who happened to step through it. Until the High Council discovered which spell the Human wizard had used against Riian and her parents, no one was safe; it was better for everyone if she escaped on her own. She needed to go to
them
, not wait for
them
to come to
her
.

Which city would it be?

Mirëtasarë or Mirëdell? . . . A lot could happen in one day. In one day her home had been blown up and her family murdered. She shivered. She’d go to Mirëdell.

Bracing herself, she stuffed a few more items into her scout pack, tied it up, swung it onto her back, then eased the kitchen door open while tightening the straps. She turned away from the sight of freedom and glanced back into her home where she could hear movement a few rooms away. Chairs scraped across the stone floor, there was a loud crash, and then the scratchy-voiced woman was cursing. They must be looking for hidden panels and rooms. She hoped it would keep them occupied for awhile.

Analindë looked back to the warning board. The cupboard had closed itself and now blended in seamlessly with the rest of the kitchen.

She turned to face the trees. Courage rushed into her heart and she bravely dashed across the kitchen garden into the awaiting forest.

The Third Chapter

A
long while later,
Analindë leaned, panting against a fallen tree as images from the village continued to flash through her mind. She struggled to shut them out, but nothing she did kept the thoughts from coming back. Dusk was not long past and she was tiring.

She had climbed out of the small valley that the village occupied and was halfway around the mountain heading toward Mirëdell, but she’d left none of it behind. Murder, betrayal, destruction, possible civil war, even the Humans had managed to follow her up into the surrounding mountains. She pushed that thought away too as she briefly rested. She just needed to reach the High Mages before the Humans reached her. She didn’t need to think about anything else. If she survived long enough, the High Council of Mages at the school could take her burden of knowledge from her. The mages could add Gildhorn’s betrayal to what they’d already discussed and she’d be free. She thought of Master Therin, an old friend of her parents. He was at the school too and was on the High Council. He’d be able to guide her once she reached the safety of the Mirëdell. She didn’t need to worry. He’d take care of her.

With that slight hope in her heart, Analindë pushed forward once more, struggling up the mountain trail. As she walked she wished for the umpteenth time that she had the strength and knowledge to summon a portal or to farspeak at the very least. She’d have been unable to form a portal by herself even if she had the strength, and it took years of training to learn to farspeak. She sighed and batted thoughts of portals from her mind, focusing on Master Therin instead. The next several days were going to be long enough without her wishing for things that weren’t.

Her mind wandered to her family’s discussion the night before and she mildly speculated as to when things had started responding to Mage Master Olwë. If the tale really had been true, did things heed his calls for aid because they sensed his greatness? Or did they respond because he was great?

Analindë had no skills of note in any of the areas of mage studies, and she doubted that she had greatness in her future, but if anyone ever had need of aid it was her. She thought of the Mage Master and wondered how he’d done it. Could it have been as easy as calling out with a request? Or did it take more focus than that? Figuring that she might as well give it a try, she formed intent in her mind, just as she used when saying her father’s growing spell, then launched power out from herself while whispering sharply. “Help. I need a safe place to rest.”

Analindë stopped, listening intently to the quiet blanketing the forest, would there be a response? She felt nothing, nothing but emptiness around her, but she waited a few moments longer anyway. How had the old Mage Master called for aid? She briefly wondered if she should try again but decided against it. She shouldn’t linger, must keep moving. The hope that had stupidly risen inside her fluttered back down as she turned her thoughts back to her escape.

She sighed, readjusted her scout pack, and prepared to leap over a creek. Unease rose within her as she realized that an eerie silence had filled the aged forest, animals hid, birds did not roost, the pervasive stillness made even the babble of water seem quiet.

The Humans were near.

She’d lingered too long.

Analindë jumped over the creek, straightened, then quietly sprinted up the deer track before her. She ran lightly on the balls of her feet, keeping the strike of her foot against the loamy earth as soft as possible. Had someone been listening, her passage would most likely have gone unnoticed; the tracks she left behind were slight.

She berated herself for letting her attention slip. Not only did the back of her neck prickle ever so slightly—as it did each time the Humans were close—but she felt the Humans following her as a malevolent pinprick in the back of her mind. It was difficult to put the sensation into thought so she focused on the trail in front of her instead.

Every now and then she felt the wizard send out a swath of seeking power. She’d sensed an insidiousness to those probing searches that hinted all would
not
be well when they finally caught her. She thought of the compass the wizard had boasted about and deduced that he’d finally figured out how to use it. How else would they have been able to find her let alone keep up with her?

Full darkness had long since fallen; her legs ached from the constant climb. She could barely make out the path in front of her. The sound of the wind whistling through the pines failed to give her peace. She should have been able to easily outdistance the Humans, but they doggedly kept up with her instead. The trail was steeper and rockier now so she slowly picked her way up, careful not to let even the slightest gasp of breath or shuffle of loose stone betray her.

The nagging pinprick of unease in the back of her mind had morphed into a small flash of light in the darkness. She peered over her shoulder. Very little starlight filtered down to the ground in this section of the forest, and she saw nothing but charcoal outlines of trees against velvety, starry blackness. The sparking light was only in her mind.

She shook her head in confusion. The rocks she clambered over caught a little bit of starlight, showing the path she followed, but not much else. The moon would be out soon, it would help her move more quickly. She turned forward again and the flash of light, illuminating the blackness in the back of her mind, grew brighter. She didn’t understand how it worked, but the light always grew brighter when the Humans were closing in on her.

Like they were doing now.

She needed a place to hide, without delay. If she could make it, there was a good hiding spot ahead where she and Riian had played hide and seek when they were younger.

She tried not to think about Riian as she crossed over a small stream and paused briefly to wash blood off of her arms and face. Some of it was Glendariel’s. Scratches marred her pale skin—in all stages of bleeding and scabbing—she couldn’t see them but felt their sting as she washed. She ignored the sensation, focusing instead on the soft earth pressing against the soles of her shoes; the icy cold water against her skin, its fresh, energizing taste as she swallowed; and the black void in the back of her mind.

She thought of the Humans as she resumed her hike. They were much stronger than the elves had thought. How much else had the elves been wrong about? And why after centuries of peace had the warring Humans turned their attentions upon the elves?

Gildhorn. There could be no other explanation.

Why had he involved the Humans? What were the Mageborn Books? And how had the Humans gained so much power? Analindë mulled the questions over again and again as she surged up the well worn trail. When she reached Mirëdell she’d ask Master Therin. He’d know.

For decades now it had been arranged for Analindë to be apprenticed to Master Therin if she did well enough in her studies. Perhaps he’d take her under his wing early. She hoped so. Two years ago, having finally reached the age of one hundred and fifteen years, she’d finished studying with the tutor her parents had hired for her and joined the other students at Mirëdell to specialize in magecraft. She’d inherited the potential to become a master mage and perform, to some level of ability, all of the various specialties in the land. She’d already learned some small spells, but not nearly enough, and very little that would help her on this journey.

A branch snapped in the distance. They were getting careless. Must go faster. Analindë veered away from the stream she’d been following, scampered up another short steep length of rocks, then turned onto a flatter section of forest. Keeping to a deer track she swung her gaze back and forth scanning her surroundings for a good place to hide in case she couldn’t make it to her spot in time. Her muscles ached and fatigue made her clumsy. Every tree root seemed to jump up out of the ground to trip her. She jerked to a stop. Did they have control over the trees? Panicked, she briefly reached out toward the trees with her senses. No, they felt normal. She was simply becoming clumsy.

She pulled her thoughts back to the physical world, then yelped when she felt the Human wizard’s focus veer toward her like a needle on a compass finding north, he must have sensed the small Energy she’d used to look at the trees! Adrenaline pumped through her veins and she sprinted up the path. Just around that curve. She could make it.

A moment later she swerved off the path to the right toward a gigantic tree that had fallen on its side. Crushed by her feet, the sharp scent of pine needles filled the air. Taking care to leave no mark of her passage beyond crushed needles, she pushed through the low-lying bushes. Scrambling up into the hidey-hole on the far side of the tree, she crouched, shivering in fear, to wait.

The damp earthy smell of decaying wood brought her a modicum of peace. Pale moonlight filtered into her hiding spot, illuminating the childish carvings of birds soaring in flight. She traced her fingers along the initials her brother had carved so long ago. Tears sprang to her eyes. She blinked rapidly and clenched her fingers into a fist as she attempted to quiet her breathing.

They
were coming; she could not block them out. She felt them search for her with a sweeping awareness, looking for where she hid. The type of power the Human wizard used was unmistakable, if felt like the power that had been used to kill her family.

They were close. She could hear their voices now. The bright flicker of light in the back of her mind had grown immense.

Scared, she still didn’t know how they’d kept up with her. Did the wizard sense her? Or had he figured out how to work the amulet he held? Confused at how the Humans had achieved either option she cowered deeper into the hollow in the tree. She fixated on the amulet, remembering the elvish designs molded into the beautifully crafted metal and how the wizard had tapped it with his finger, implying he could find her anywhere. The log was of no use to her if the wizard had fully linked with the charm. She shivered in fright, how could she even think of hiding from the Human wizard now?

Please no, please no, please no.
She willed herself to be quiet, as still as the trees around her.

Fearing that they’d hear or sense the patter of her heart or the anxiousness coursing through her, she tried again to calm her thoughts.

Be. Quiet. She told herself.

It didn’t help. Her heart simply raced faster and her thoughts spun. A lake. Maybe she could be like the water, flat and reflecting back whatever was around her. Become invisible, hide, impossible to be found.

Her mind spun and her heart still raced. She hugged her knees to her chest, rocking back and forth. Using the tiny bit of moonlight that had made it past the clouds in the sky she stared at the majestic bird Riian had carved that hot summer day.
Peace, calm, happier times.
The edge to her terror softened; breathing in that peace she was able to focus at last.

She closed her eyes and concentrated as she’d never concentrated before, attempting to shift her vision into magesight. The sight where she thought she could see yellow sparks shooting off the ends of her fingers when she tried to weave a spell. She focused harder and then felt something shift inside herself, but everything remained dark and dim. No yellow sparks, no subtle glow of energies, just darkness. She tried not to let her spirits flag and instead concentrated on the next step.

Energy. She needed Energy, and lots of it.

She focused on her hands, willing power to come. Nothing. She shook them, then wiggled around a little bit. Her hands were still dark. She put all her focus behind intent, then commanded herself to connect with her power. Yet again, nothing happened. She focused on her fingers again and then wiggled them. Nothing. She imagined a whoosh of Energy flowing through her body and then out of her hands. That didn’t work either. She pushed from her center again, and not even a spark flicked off the end of one little finger.

Analindë turned her thoughts inward and blindly reached far into the core of herself to search for power. She didn’t really know how to look or where to look. Under the tutelage of her father she’d tried meditating before, but she’d never been able to find her well of power. This time she needed to succeed, desperately so. Yet she sensed nothing, and her mind kept telling her the Humans were getting closer. Fear drove her on until terror began to overwhelm her. She mentally reached, tried to sense, silently screamed out a summon hoping for an answer, made sweeping grabbing gestures with her thoughts hoping that even though she couldn’t see anything perhaps she might be able to feel something.