Exodus: The Windwalker Archive: Book 3 (Legends of Agora) (10 page)

Talon was released, and he fell to the floor gasping. Time seemed to stop, cannon fire illuminated the night, and the cries of the Skomm echoed across the waters.

“Talon? Talon, help me,” said Akerri in her own voice. She reached for him, but then her eyes changed once again, and she slowly pulled back and sneered.

“You are too late, Windwalker. Now, she is mine,” said Kreal.

“Let her go!” Talon cried, leaping to his feet and reaching out a shaking hand. “Akerri, fight him, come to me!”

She reached for him, eyes mocking, and hit him with a blast of light.

Talon cried out in agony as lightning hit him and sent him over the rail into the cold waters below.

The frigid water consumed him. Talon sank below the passing ship and watched as the Vald ship’s cannons fired relentlessly on the Skomm ships. Down, down into the dark abyss he sank, not having the will to swim to the surface. Every fiber in his body screamed with pain, and his crushed lungs burned with the need for air. Kyrr illuminated the darkness, but Talon resisted the urge to save himself. Akerri was lost to him. Somehow, Fylkin had found her.

Kyrr afforded him the strength to hold his breath against the growing pressure as he sank far below the surface, to where the light fought to break through the encroaching gloom.

Just when he had surrendered himself to oblivion, a streak of blue light flashed before his eyes, and something grabbed him by the collar. He was flying for the surface now, being pulled against his will toward salvation.

Chief erupted out of the water and landed with Talon on the deck of Freedom, whose crew was scrambling to douse fires, fix sails, and keep the ship from faltering.

Talon lay on the deck coughing and sputtering, trying to get his bearings. Chief licked his face and whined, and suddenly Talon remembered Akerri. He shot to his feet and lurched over to the aft rail. Seeing nothing, he looked starboard, and then port side. There he saw the ship disappearing into the gloom.

“Windwalker!” said Argath, who bled from many wounds but grimaced against the pain and pulled Talon to his feet. “Praise the gods you’re still alive. Look. The bastards are being chased off by the sun elves.”

Talon then noticed the flashes of light following the Vald ship.

“Don’t let them…hurt…Akerri,” he managed to utter before falling flat on his face and passing out with exhaustion.

I had hoped to help Talon in his fight against the Vald. Naively, I hoped that the council would be more lenient. Now, as I settle into the deep forests of Elladrindellia to begin my exile, I am heartened to learn that Zerafin’s sister has taken it upon herself to help the lad.

-Azzeal, Ralliad of Elladrindellia

Talon awoke to the sound of a beautiful elven song and jerked his head to the side. Seeing the strange elf maiden smiling at him, he flailed back and hit the corner wall.

“You are safe now,” came a voice. One that instantly put him at ease.

“Where am I?” Talon asked, glancing around at the smooth rounded walls and exotic fabric that he lay upon.

“You’re on the elven flag ship Veralas. You are safe now. Relax and get your bearings.”

“But…Akerri…what happened to the Vald ship?” he asked.

“Your mind screamed for her to be spared, so I allowed them to escape…against my better judgement,” said the long-haired elf maiden.

“Who…who are you?” said Talon, suddenly realizing her beauty and grace.

“I am Zilena. You have met my mother, Araveal, and my brother, Zerafin. They both speak highly of you.”

“Then you have come from Elladrindellia? You’ve been trailing us?” he said.

“No, but I have spoken with them…mentally. I have been at sea for over a year, doing my duty to keep watch on the western waters.”

“Why did you intervene? I thought the council was against that,” said Talon.

“I did my duty. All waters east of Fendora Island are considered our responsibility to patrol. And so we do. We caught wind of the Vald ship just before the attack. It cost great amounts of stored energy to conjure the wind to get here so quickly.”

She handed Talon a small saucer, and he drank greedily.

“What was it that had control of Akerri? Was it Vald magic like my amma Gretzen’s?”

“No,” said Zilena, shaking her head in dismay. “She has been possessed by a dark elf. I felt it clearly when we gave pursuit.”

“A dark elf…but how? She spoke in the voice of Fylkin Winterthorn.”

“Yes, we have been suspicious of a Vald and dark elf union for some time. It seems that our suspicions were well founded.”

Talon sat up fully and got out of bed, relieved to find that he still had his clothes on. He remembered Chief and reached for his pocket. The familiar weight of the trinket settled him—somehow, he knew that Chief was back inside, where he was resting.

“This changes everything,” Talon dared to say to the princess. “Now that the dark elves are involved, the council can no longer ignore their responsibility to intervene.”

“That is not entirely true,” said Zilena. “The council can ignore whatever they wish to ignore, as they so often do.”

Talon studied her eyes, noting how much they looked like the queen’s, and how easily they stared back, unwavering, and finally forcing Talon to turn away. There was no malice in her eyes, nor was there anything menacing about her, but there was a depth of understanding that was terrifying. He had felt the same way when he first met Azzeal.

“You and Azzeal are of like mind,” said Talon.

Zilena nodded. “And you are a perceptive one.”

“Then you also believe that your people should intervene in Volnoss.”

“Yes, but I cannot blatantly go against the will of the council.”

“Why not?” Talon asked boldly. “Just because something is a rule, that doesn’t make it right. On Volnoss, the Vald are able to kill any Skomm, with no repercussions; that is a rule. Should I follow it, even though it says that I should lay my neck bare for the blade of my master?”

Zilena squared on him, intrigued. She flung back her long dirty blonde hair over her shoulder and crossed her arms.

“Such obedience is needed if a society is to remain intact.”

“A society with such rules shouldn’t be left intact.”

Those piercing eyes studied him again, but Talon held his ground. Zilena looked to be about twenty human years, though Talon knew better of that illusion. There was knowledge and wisdom in those eyes that told the truth of it, and he found himself once again awed, and indeed humbled by the awareness and memory that they must possess. Another part of his mind thought that although the elves lived centuries, even eons, they didn’t seem to change much. He imagined that in such a long-lived society, affairs of all types got on much slower. Indeed, the elves never seemed much in a hurry, nor did they act out their feelings of boredom or stress. Rather, they seemed ever placid, as though they were observers, even of their own lives. Yet there was a child-like love for the world and for living that Talon envied. He found himself wondering how, after so many years of daily challenges and hardship, could one remain so pure of heart?

“Your mind churns like the sea in a storm,” said Zilena. “I apologize, but you were—”

“Thinking loudly, yes, I know.” Talon sighed. “Then you heard my mind, you know my thoughts. Isn’t it possible that I am right?”

“I believe that you are,” said Zilena, “but I also believe what I said. That is the dilemma.”

“What does your heart tell you?”

Zilena gave a small, musical laugh. “You sound like my sister, Avriel. I am sorry, I do not share her romantic notions.”

“But don’t you have an inner voice? One that always knows what is right and what is wrong?”

“Yes,” said Zilena, seeming slightly taken aback by any notion to the contrary.

“And what does that voice tell you?”

Zilena stared at Talon, her eyes darting back and forth between his, as though searching for something elusive. Finally, she looked to the floor, as though the words on her mind caused her shame.

“It tells me that my people should help your people. It tells me that we have done a terrible thing in ignoring the plight of the Skomm.”

Talon saw the sincerity in her watery eyes, and he found a lump quickly growing in his throat.

“But I will be shunned by my people if I do this. I will be punished by the council, and I will shame my mother.”

“If you do what?” Talon asked, suddenly frightened by her quick spiral into sorrow. “I didn’t mean for you to…I’m sorry.”

Zilena kissed his cheek, startling him and sending warmth through his body to places that only Akerri had ever stirred. He felt his face flush and his ears became hot.

“I should be the one to apologize. Being around you, hearing your mind and feeling your feelings…it has awakened parts of me that have been in slumber. The voice you speak of; mine tells me that I should help you. I do not care the cost. What can the council really do, send me into solitude? So be it, for this shall be an adventure to remember.”

Talon was speechless. He stared at her, trying to find words to thank her. But then guilt burrowed deep inside him.

“I didn’t mean to suggest that you go against the council. I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Of course you meant for me to go against the council,” she said with a knowing smile. “Do not think that you have forced my mind. What I do, I do of my own free will. I will simply assign myself to investigate this dark elf and his relation to your former Chief Winterthorn, and I will send word of my intentions back to my mother and the council.”

“Will they approve?” Talon asked, still hoping to avoid getting her into any trouble.

“I believe that they will. What choice do they really have? As you said, this needs to be addressed immediately. A dark elf has invaded the mind of a human, and is somehow able to cast spells through her. I am the highest-ranking member of this ship, and therefore it is my responsibility to intervene before too much destruction is wrought. Now, let us waste no more time and set a course of action.”

I often find myself thinking of Aurora Snowfell. And I wonder. Is my fate written in stone? Isn’t there some way that I might sway her hand? I know from my visions that she will be reluctant to strike me down. There is a looming shadow behind her, one that I fear more than my imminent death. I have spoken with the queen about this, and we are working to induce my visions. Perhaps they can give us some warning of this coming darkness.

Azzeal, Ralliad of Elladrindellia

Talon and Zilena took a small boat from the elven ship and made the short journey over to Freedom, where Argath was waiting with his best men. The elven princess brought with her no guards, which Talon knew Argath would take as a great show of confidence and strength.

The ship looked as though it might sink at any moment. The rail surrounding the deck was missing in more places than it was intact. The sails were in tatters, and smoke still billowed from many holes in the deck. Worse yet was the main mast, which hung in the water, having been snapped in half. Freedom was taking on water, that much was apparent by the way she leaned toward the bow. The steady pounding of a drum accompanied the rhythmic splash of water from buckets and the song of the Skomm working to fight the encroaching waters.

Talon felt a pang of sorrow at the sight of Freedom, once called Sea Queen. He had been through a lot on that ship, and it pained him to see her so.

When they were on deck, Argath marched over with the other former gladiators and stood tall before Talon and the lithe elf.

“I’m glad to see that you survived the ordeal,” said Argath before turning to Zilena.

“This is Zilena, princess of Elladrindellia,” said Talon. “Daughter of Araveal and Veralas.”

“Hello Zilena,” said Argath with a nod upward. “I am Argath, captain of Freedom.”

Zilena looked around at the destruction and the crew, who were obviously distracted by her appearance despite their desperate duties.

“Soon you will be captain of a sunken ship. I apologize for being crass, but I believe that your ship warrants more attention than pleasantries at the moment. May we offer a helping hand?”

“My lady, you have done so much already,” said Argath. “I thought that the elves had strict rules against intervention.”

“That is true, but this is an extraordinary circumstance. Dark elves aided in the attack against your ships, and therefore it is our duty to help where we can. Besides, these are elven waters, protected by the treaty of Elladrindellia and Uthen-Arden.”

“Then, by all means, do what you will,” said Argath, extending a big arm to the deck.

Zilena gave a small bow and motioned to the waiting elven ship, making strange patterns with her hands. A flash of light answered her, and Argath, Talon, and the rest of the crew waited in silent anticipation. What happened next surprised even Talon, who had seen firsthand the elves’ magic.

Freedom shook and shuddered. Surrounded by a web of light, it suddenly rose above the ocean. The waters that had been slowly filling the hull poured out, and all eyes went to the princess, who had reached into the cloak about her leather armor and now took out a single seed. She whispered against it, held it aloft until it was glowing like a hot ember, and finally tossed it down onto the deck.

“Please,” she said serenely. “Do not be alarmed.”

She aimed a white ring at the seed, and from the glowing crystal set about the silver came a thin beam of light. A ring glowed on her other hand, and she pointed this one at the sky, whispering elven words and causing a small cloud to form above her. The cloud broke, and rained its waters upon the seed.

The seed quickly became a sapling right there on deck. It grew large flowers and long spiraling vines that snaked their way across the deck. They seemed mindful; as though they were sniffing out damaged areas of the ship. The many vines found the breakages and spread out, fusing with the cracked and splintered wood and filling holes and gaps, even replacing the rail and growing from the main mast’s mooring into a tall, spiraling tree. The sails were made anew as well and quickly caught the breeze as vines and leaves filled in the torn spots.

Freedom was lowered slowly, and when she set down on the water once more, she did not falter, but bobbed on the lazy waves and held strong against the wind now coming from the south.

“By Thodin’s favor,” Argath managed to whisper through his awe. He looked wide-eyed at Zilena and fell to his knees, offering her a well-deserved high chin.

The rest of the crew followed his lead, falling to their knees in reverence.

Talon could hardly see through his tears of joy. He too honored her thusly, having no words to express his gratitude for such an honor.

“Please stand,” said Zilena.

Everyone slowly rose, and Argath stood before her, teary-eyed and wordless as the rest of them. For they had never seen such miracles, and were indeed humbled.

“Thank you, Zilena, princess of Elladrindellia,” he said, and the others nodded their sentiment. “You have given Freedom new life.”

“It is my duty…” she said humbly. “And my pleasure,” she added with a mischievous grin.

Argath straightened, trying to compose himself before his crew, and offered his hand. “Shall we set a course to the northwest and retire to my quarters?”

“Please,” said Zilena, taking his hand and following his lead.

Talon watched them go, as shocked as everyone else.

“Windwalker, please join us,” Argath called over his shoulder.

The crew looked to Talon with reverent eyes.

He followed them into the captain’s quarters and closed the doors behind them. Argath led Zilena and offered her a seat on the sofa to the left of the wide desk. Talon went to the small bar and poured himself a stiff shot of ten-year whiskey.

“Wine?” he croaked, nearly choking on the spirits.

“Please,” said Zilena, sitting back on the sofa adjacent to Argath.

“Rum,” said the captain. “And my pipe.”

Talon brought their drinks and was surprised to hear the princess ask if she could have a pipe as well.

Argath smiled and turned to Talon. “Left side of desk, top drawer,” he said.

When Talon returned and took a seat in the plush red chair across from the captain, Argath packed and lit the princess’s pipe, and raised his glass to them both.

“To allies,” he said jovially.

Talon watched the princess sip from her wine and eyed Argath as well. There was something obvious between them—something that made Talon uncomfortable and left him wishing he wouldn’t have been called into the meeting.

The princess smiled upon the large-framed captain with intrigue, and not a hint of shame. Suddenly, Talon felt invisible.

“I hear that your father was killed during the early days of the revolution,” said Zilena.

“Yes…Forrest died for the cause. Which is more than any Skomm can wish,” said Argath, lost in her eyes.

“My father died as well, fighting for what he believed, fighting for us all.”

“I have heard the tales of the brave and venerable Veralas,” said Argath.

“And I have heard the tales of mighty Argath and brave Talon, fighting for their people against an army of giants and Agoran slaver drivers,” said Zilena. “Your people may revere our magic, but it is nothing compared to the spirit of your people.”

It was the princess’s turn to offer a raised chin to the captain and Talon. Argath gazed into her eyes like a man hungry for dinner, and Talon simply nodded, knowing that the gesture was lost to them.

He thought to leave, but then Zilena turned to him and smiled.

“You and your story are well known to me. For I have read the entirety of Azzeal’s ongoing archive of your life.”

Talon was taken aback. “Archive?”

“Yes,” said Zilena. “The Windwalker Archive, as it is to be called. It is not finished, of course. But as part of his sentence, he is also to archive everything that happens due to his controversial decision.”

Talon somehow knew her mind.

“You wish to be part of the story…”

She blushed and offered a curt nod. “The idea intrigues me, but it does not sway my decisions. There is no precedent for what has happened here. I am doing what I think is right.”

“Of course you are,” said Argath, reaching a long arm over to pat the hand on her knee.

Talon fought the urge to roll his eyes. Either Argath was under some sort of spell, or his behavior was genuine, in which case Talon would rather exit the room and leave them to it.

The princess suddenly laughed through her nose and looked to Talon, wide-eyed and obviously entertained. She removed her hand from beneath Argath’s and sipped her wine.

“Where do we go from here?” Talon asked, hoping to sober them both.

“We go north!” said Argath with sudden bluster as he raised his glass.

Zilena’s eyes lit as she too raised her glass.

“North!” she proclaimed as well.

Talon gave a sigh. “How in Thodin’s name are we going to free Akerri from the dark elf? That is why you’re here, isn’t it?”

“The only way to safely save your female friend is to find the source,” said Zilena.

Talon looked into her eyes and she nodded.

“Yes, we must go to Volnoss, where surely the dark elf is projecting from.”

“Projecting?” said Talon.

“Volnoss it is!” said Argath, already refilling his rum and the princess’s wine.

“Wait, what do you mean, projecting?”

“Whoever has control of your Akerri is a skilled practitioner of the dark arts. Such magic is shunned by my people, but we have ways to fight against it. From an early age, elves are taught how to guard against such attacks to the soul.”

“Soul!” Talon blurted, suddenly afraid.

“Yes,” said Zilena solemnly. “I’m sorry, Talon. But Akerri is in grave danger. And she may never recover, even if we are to intervene.”

Talon fought against tears all too ready to spill. “What chances do we have?” he asked.

“Chances?”

“Yes, what are the odds that we can rescue Akerri from the clutches of the dark elf?”

“There is no number,” said Zilena. “That depends on the person.”

Talon was reassured by her estimation, for if anyone was strong enough to survive such an ordeal, it was Akerri.