Exodus: The Windwalker Archive: Book 3 (Legends of Agora) (6 page)

I have only seen his deeds through blurry visions half understood. Seeing him speak to the queen tonight made me proud. He reminds me of my son, gone now for three hundred years.

-Azzeal, Keeper of the Windwalker Archive

Talon attended dinner with Gretzen that night. He tidied up as well as he could, though in the end he still felt as old and musty as a hand-me-down shoe. The elves appeared so clean and well groomed, and radiated with such magic and power, that Talon thought he might never feel clean around them.

Azzeal personally led them to the queen’s palace, where a young female elf in a long green dress greeted them with a beautiful smile and elegant elven words that Talon did not understand.

“Oh, I apologize,” said the maiden in the barbarian dialect. “Welcome to my queen’s
Kastali
.”

She smiled at her clever use of the barbarian word and ushered them to follow.

A flight of long winding stairs led them through a lush indoor garden and over a bridge spanning a rushing river that went right through the palace, leading to a large, well-lit dining room of gold.

Talon stopped and stared at the ceiling in awe. High up in the curved buttresses, elaborate crystal chandeliers hung, casting soft golden light on the spacious chamber. A long table sat at the center, with the queen and another elf sitting at the far end. She stood as they approached.

“Welcome,” said the queen.

“Thank you for inviting us into your home,” said Gretzen, handing the queen a small wicker basket that she had made, full of nightleaf, an herb that Talon knew to be rare on Volnoss.

“You’re welcome, and thank you for the gift,” said the queen. She smelled the exotic herbs and asked, “Do they make tea, perhaps?”

“Is nightleaf,” said Gretzen. “Good to use in bath of hot water, will rejuvenate body, give good sleep.”

“Thank you. Please, meet my son, Zerafin. He has been very interested to meet you both.”

A tall, smooth-skinned elf with long dark hair spread across his shoulders lifted his chin, giving the two the barbarian nod of respect.

“Gretzen Spiritbone and Talon Windwalker. Tales of your struggle reached my ears in the deep south of Elladrindellia. It is a privilege to meet you both.”

“Privilege all mine,” said Gretzen, eyeing the contents of the table.

“I’m truly honored,” said Talon. “Feikinstafir, if Jahsin could see me now.”

“Talon!” said Gretzen.

“It is quite all right,” said Zerafin. “The lad speaks with a truthful mouth and the innocence of youthful discovery. And I rather enjoy that expression of yours. Feikinstafir!” he said, trying it out for himself. He grinned and said it again.

The queen gave him a playful slap on the arm and offered Talon and Gretzen seats across from theirs. No one sat at the head of the table.

To Talon’s surprise, the queen lifted a wine bottle and served them all herself before sitting back down. She raised her cup to the heavens, and the others followed suit.

“To the spirit of revolution!”

The five clanged glasses.

“Lelamendellia!” said the three elves, while simultaneously Talon and Gretzen shouted, “Veizla!”

They drank from their glasses, and Zerafin looked to Talon and Gretzen. “What is this…
veizla
?”

“It is our celebration cheer,” said Talon.

“Means feast,” said Gretzen.

Zerafin nodded agreeably.

“What was your word? Legomendellia?”

Zerafin chuckled. “Lel-a-men-del-lia, lelamendellia. It means, ‘to life.’”

“Well then,” said Talon, raising his glass anew. “Lelamendellia!”

They shared a laugh and sipped their sweet wine. The doors at the end of the room opened, and rather than servants, as Talon had expected, wheeled serving trays rolled out of the kitchen and stopped beside each of them. The queen reached out a hand and slowly began weaving a pattern in midair, and simultaneously, the lids floated off, releasing a billow of steam. A bowl rose off of each of the trays, floated over their shoulders, and settled on the plate before them.

Enthralled by the display of magic, Talon watched as a clear liquid floated out of the tray beside him and poured itself flawlessly into another cup set before him. This too gave off steam.

“It is a rice wine,” said the queen as the lids replaced themselves and the carts rolled back into the kitchen.

“Your magic is very strong,” said Gretzen with an approving nod, her nose inches from the fragrant soup.

Talon looked to the queen, finally realizing that it had been she who controlled the dishes and carts. He marveled at her ability to control so many things at once. Once again he wondered what an elf might be able to do on the battlefield. A shiver passed through him as he considered the legendary dark elves, whose powers were said to be terrifying to behold.

“Is it to your liking?” the queen asked.

Talon realized that he had been staring at the soup, lost in his thoughts.

“Oh! Yes, it is delicious.”

“That was quite the speech you gave today,” said Zerafin. “Your words touched many hearts, including mine.”

“Thank you,” said Talon. “But I was just telling it like it is.”

“I like that,” said Zerafin. “Telling it like it is. You must get it from your amma.”

“Perhaps,” said Talon with a chuckle. He looked to his amma, who offered a mirthless grin.

“I believe that you have done a good thing in overturning the council’s decision,” Azzeal said to the queen. “I once believed in absolute non-intervention as they do, but going out into the world and seeing the lives of others firsthand is a sobering experience.”

“Indeed, it must be,” said the queen. “But there is a fine line that must not be crossed. For our power is too great, and if we start taking sides, we will drastically effect the natural advancement of the humans. Take for instance this Skomm revolution that you are so keen on setting in motion.”

“It is not as though we are helping primates to learn farming,” said Zerafin. “The humans, barbarians, and dwarves are all very smart, arguably as smart as we are. They only lack the magic to help themselves to advance.”

“Yes, but allowing them the benefits of magic before they have discovered it for themselves is no favor,” said the queen. “The more we help, the more they will become dependent on that help. The council came to this conclusion when first we landed upon the beaches of Agora. We could so easily conquer this land, and we must be careful to not do it through good intentions.”

“If that is what you believe, then why did you overturn the council?” Talon asked.

The queen sipped her wine and studied him for a moment. “I felt that it was the right thing to do. And because a mischievous part of me is curious to see what you will do with the ring. Call it an experiment. Your actions shall either alter our opinions on non-intervention, or they will strengthen them.”

“I will not let you down,” said Talon. Though he inwardly cringed at the burden of responsibility that lay upon his shoulders.

They finished their soup and rice wine, and next came the main course: freshly caught fish from the ocean, along with mussels and a variety of flowers that the elves swore were edible.

The atmosphere became light over dinner, and they fell into comfortable conversation. Talon had a million questions about the elven city, however, the queen’s interest in his adventures since leaving Volnoss kept him from asking much at all. He found himself reciting the tale yet again, and by the time he had finished, the dessert plates had been taken away and replaced by yet more wine. The elves seemed unaffected by the drink. Talon, however, felt himself becoming quite tipsy. Soon his tongue had become loose, and his courage had grown.

“Good queen, as you know there are many sick and injured Skomm on board our ships. I have been lucky enough to avoid the sickness so far, but more than half of the others have become ill. Dozens have died already. Do you perhaps have something that might help fight the ailment?”

The queen looked to her son, and it seemed for a moment that they shared a silent conversation. Talon remembered the voice in his head when he had been beckoned to shore and found himself thinking it slightly rude to hold mental conversations in the presence of others. It was akin to whispering into another’s ear.

“I shall see what can be done,” she said finally.

“Thank you,” said Talon.

“Is there anything else that you wish to ask?”

Talon glanced at his amma, who was glaring at him sidelong.

“Well…I think that a day on land would help to raise the people’s spirits greatly. They have been out to sea since being sold into slavery. Many of them hadn’t even seen the sun in weeks until we freed them. I spent just a few days down in a slave hold, and it was terrible. The bodies are cramped so tight that you get trampled if you try to sleep, and you are forced to relieve yourself were you stand half the time.

“Sorry,” he said, seeing how his conversation had soured their faces. “I didn’t mean to speak of such things at dinner.”

“It is quite understandable,” said the queen. “I should be the one apologizing. How rude we now seem for not inviting your people onto our beaches already. In the morning we will send out boats to ferry your people onto land. I believe that the day will be a mild one. They will find much needed relaxation. Leave it to me.”

“Thank you, your generosity is most appreciated,” said Talon. “I believe that our people will have a long and mutually bountiful relationship.”

Gretzen gawked at his audacity, while Azzeal grinned. Zerafin raised his glass and said, “To a long and bountiful friendship,” to which the others toasted as well.

We changed the course of history, elf and I. But it was Talon who did the doing. We just give him the tools.

-Gretzen Spiritbone

Talon left the palace feeling on top of the world. It had all gone quite well, he thought—aside from Azzeal being forbidden to interact with other races for two hundred years. Talon wondered if that meant himself and Gretzen as well. He planned on leaving soon, but as far as he knew, Gretzen had no plans of leaving Elladrindellia.

He looked to his amma, and indeed, he recognized her sorrow. Now that the pleasantries were over, she seemed more sullen than usual.

“Azzeal,” he asked as they walked across the bridge leading to the abode within the tree. “When does your punishment take effect?”

“Three days from today.”

“But…but what does that mean?” said Talon. “I can never see you again? Amma can never see you again?”

Azzeal stopped and turned to regard him fully. His wet, feline eyes looked upon Gretzen as well. “I am sorry,” he said in a near whisper, but then perked up. “These kinds of sentences rarely go the duration. It is possible that it will be shortened to one hundred, perhaps even fifty or twenty-five years.”

“Feikinstafir, Azzeal. I never meant for this to happen to you.”

“Nothing has happened
to
me, my friend. I have happened to something, and now I must respect the council’s wisdom and judgement.”

He turned and continued to the door, where he stopped once again and gestured toward the distant waterfall.

“Come, stay with me for the time we have. Find what you need inside, and I will wait.”

Talon and Gretzen took him up on the offer. When they had returned with their bags, Azzeal led them through to the other side of the city. The lights shining brightly from the peaks of the many pyramids lit the night with a soft glow like multi-colored moonlight. One had to look directly at it for it to be a hindrance to their vision. Otherwise, the bright beacons seemed to dim in the peripheral.

“Do you know that there is a secret to those lights?” Azzeal asked, noticing Talon’s attention on the illuminated capstones.

“What is the secret?”

“Those lights cannot be seen by the darkest of hearts. It is said that the purer of heart one is, the brighter the capstones become. They are constant beacons against the ever encroaching darkness, and a haven for those seeking the light.”

“What…what does it mean if I can’t see the light in the corner of my eye?” Talon asked, not liking the implications.

“Do not fret,” said Azzeal. “Shadows and demons hide in the corner of the eye. It means only that you strive to chase them away.”

They came to the waterfall, and Azzeal stepped up onto a large round disk. The water from above stopped splashing on the stone and parted above him like a curtain. Talon stared in wonder at the water magic.

“Please,” said Azzeal. “Step onto the stone and do not be afraid.”

They did so with no fear. Rather, Talon was overjoyed when the slab gently began to float up beside the waterfall. The crashing water below was deafening. Even as Talon laughed with joy, he was deaf to his own merriment.

Gretzen seemed to be enjoying herself as well, for she tilted her head back and laughed when she lost her balance and grabbed onto Azzeal’s strong arm. He smiled on her and rushed them faster still up the side of the waterfall.

Finally, they crested the falls and were rewarded with a moonlit view of the sprawling river and its many marshy tributaries. Vines covered the land as far as they could see to the west, though they were not wild and destructive. These grew out of the water and banks and formed twisting walkways and bridges over the rushing river.

Azzeal stepped off the disk onto a landing and turned to offer his hand to Gretzen. She took it, and Talon led her off.

“Will the disk just stay there like that?” Talon asked.

“Indeed,” said Azzeal. “It is powered by the pyramids, and will wait until someone steps onto it, then it will ferry them gently down to where we began.”

“Feikinstafir,” said Talon, which got him a slap on the arm from his amma.

“Watch mouth!” said the old woman before turning to follow the elf across the vines.

“It is quite alright,” said Azzeal. “I, like Zerafin, rather enjoy the sound of the word. I have even caught myself using it when fitting.”

He led them through winding halls, which were like tubes snaking across the river. On the walkways and bridges, the vines were thin and knotted. But there were others, twice as wide as Talon’s chest, which laced to form high and spiraling towers from which light and music spilled.

One such tower grew near the southern bank among a copse of weeping willows, whose long draping tips cut patterns in the smooth waters near the bank.

“This is my abode,” said Azzeal, as long draping leaves parted and lights began to glow within the tower and spill out onto the walkway.

The tower was made entirely of twisted vine. From the stairs they walked up to the floor of the landing. A wide, circular room opened before them, and Talon marveled yet again at the cleverness of the elves’ magic.

His heart yearned to create such wonders.

“Is it possible for humans to create such wonders?” he asked.

“You have a magic all your own,” said Azzeal.

“Sure,” said Talon. “But can your magic be taught to humans?”

“No. It is forbidden to meddle in such ways. Humans must rediscover magic on their own.”

“
Rediscover?
” said Talon, intrigued.

Azzeal grinned at him and shook his head.

“What you call my magic, then eh?” Gretzen asked.

“Sorry, Amma. It’s just…look at all of this.”

Gretzen scoffed. “You seen nothing,” she said.

“Please, join me on the balcony. If my star map is correct, there will be a meteor shower tonight in the northwest,” said Azzeal.

The balcony was located above the main living quarters and was open-aired, offering a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view of the surrounding land. To the east the Thousand Falls roared dully. To the north a forest grew out of the long valleys and swamplands. Looking south, talon saw a large forest far in the distance that blanketed the horizon, working its way east where the river reflected the starry sky.

“Unfortunately, the moon is two weeks waning and brighter than I would wish. Still, it should be a good display,” said Azzeal.

They sat on the balcony, drinking honey water and watching the celestial display. Shooting stars streaked across the sky every few minutes. Always they came from the northwest, and therefore their reflections on the river paralleled them, distorted by the turbulent water though they were.

Talon told them both of his plans to investigate the lead about Akerri being on Belldon Island, and his intentions to afterward fulfill his promise to free the Skomm.

“And where will we put them all?” Gretzen asked.

Talon didn’t at first understand. Seeing this, she elaborated. “You free thousands of Skomm, then what you do? They no live on Volnoss after big fight. So where they go?”

“Well, couldn’t they just live in Agora?” Talon asked.

“All of Agora owned by someone. Who give up land for them?”

Talon lit up. “Isladon took in the last batch of Skomm slaves. Slavery is illegal there.”

“Few hundred big difference from twenty thousand.”

“She is right,” said Azzeal. “That many refugees will have great trouble finding a city willing to take them in.”

“Would the elves take them in? Could we live here in Elladrindellia?”

“If I had my way, yes,” said Azzeal.

“You seemed good friends with Prince Zerafin. Perhaps you could put the idea in his ear.”

“We have agreed to be your allies, but that is a far stretch from taking your people in. No, your path does not end here anyway. You will find a country of your own, I think.”

Talon eyed the elusive elf. “Well then, what do you know? It would be a lot easier if you just tell me where we end up.”

“I have not seen such a thing in my visions.”

Talon sighed and slumped in his chair a little. He was tired. The day had been long and the drink had flowed freely.

Seeing his discouragement, Azzeal pointed out a particularly bright star and tried to lighten the mood with a story of its origin. All the while Talon wondered what the elf was not telling him.

Where would so many Skomm go? And better yet, how would they get them all off the island?