Venom and Song (47 page)

“We are not Wisps,” said Kat.

“Yes,” said Grimwarden. “I know that . . . now for certain. But we cannot afford to be burned again.”

“But where are the others? Where is the council?” Tommy sat up, noticing the empty chairs.

“We may have time to discuss our escape from Whitehall and your expeditions at a later date,” Grimwarden said. “But for now, I shall answer your question as simply as possible, Lord Felheart. Alwynn here is the last of the elders. All of them, including Manaelkin, were killed during the surprise assault on Whitehall.”

“I proposed to the others that I run back to see how you fared,” Autumn put in. “But when I arrived, I found Whitehall destroyed by the hands of Gwar and Warspiders.” Her memories resurfaced, the images filling her mind. “We thought you'd all been killed.”

“It was a horrific sight,” said Alwynn. “I wish you had not seen it.”

“So let me get this straight”—Jett said, leaning forward—“
all
the elders but Alwynn here are dead? Gone?”

“I am afraid so,” said Grimwarden.

“Afraid so?” Jimmy nearly exploded out of his seat. “But that's perfect! No more opposition, no one to try and thwart our plans, we answer only to—”

But Grimwarden's glare stopped him cold. “The elders may have differed in their views, but they were still our brothers. And I mourn their loss, as well as the light of their collective wisdom being snuffed out too soon. We now care for widows and fatherless children who grieve. We dare not rejoice.”

Jimmy suddenly felt quite ashamed. As did the rest of them. Grimwarden, of course, was right. And once again he proved his position by choosing compassion when he could have chosen righteous indignation.

“Forgive me,” Jimmy said, lowering his head.

“Forgive us all,” Tommy added, recognizing the community of thought.

“It is forgiven,” said Alwynn. “For now, we”—he motioned to himself, Goldarrow, and Grimwarden—“will serve as your elder council until more members can be selected.”

“I'm down with that!” said Jett.

Alwynn was puzzled. “What's down?”

“Nevermind,” Goldarrow said to the elder, waving it off. “We must turn to the matters at hand, m'lords.”

“Vesper Crag?” asked Jimmy.

The three elders at the table nodded, and the Seven felt a cool shiver go up their spines. The time had come at last.

“Preceding our attack, there are still two vital components missing, I fear,” said Grimwarden.

Goldarrow addressed the Seven. “Neither Nelly nor Regis has returned with the map.” The Seven shared a worried look.

Tommy spoke up. “Do you still think the map is necessary?”

Grimwarden nodded. “Essential, Lord Felheart. Without it, we would rely on brute force alone. An attack of that nature would invite utter failure given we are the aggressors on foreign territory, not defenders.”

“What's the other bad news?” asked Johnny.

“Unless you have news we don't know of, we still don't know where the Keystone is.”

“WE FOUND IT!” the Seven belted in one voice. The elders jerked back in their seats with surprise. The three of them were like little children.

“You did indeed?” Goldarrow leaned forward. “What, what is it?”

“Do you have it with you?” Grimwarden inquired, his hands nearly twitching.

“Sadly, no,” said Tommy. “It was lost in a cave-in.”

“Cave-in?” Goldarrow was horrified.

“We barely escaped,” said Autumn. “If it weren't for Bear . . .”

“Bear?” asked Goldarrow.

“Actually, he's a wolf,” said Jett.

“A giant one,” added Jimmy.

Grimwarden waved his hand before his face as if clearing a plume of smoke. “So, then, the Keystone is destroyed?”

“Yes,” said Tommy.

“But, Lord Felheart,” Alwynn pointed to him. “You seem far from concerned.”

“Well, we took from it what we needed.”

Grimwarden clapped his hands. “Good lad!” He thought better of his outburst. “Well done, I mean. Resourceful, just as I taught you, young lord.”

“Indeed,” said Tommy.

“And?” Goldarrow pressed him further.

Tommy and the others went on to explain their introduction to the Gnomes, the subterranean fortress, and all the events surrounding the cistern, the Keystone, the Rainsong, Bear, and their narrow escape. Grimwarden was beaming with pride as he heard the account of the Seven working together and, against all odds, succeeding in their quest. His training had served them well. They all knew it.

“I wish I could have seen it,” Goldarrow said wistfully.

“As do I,” said Alwynn. Grimwarden nodded in assent.

“So the lyrics,” said Goldarrow. “You have them?”

“Yes,” said Kiri Lee. “I will require some parchment, a quill, and some ink right away.”

“Yes, immediately.” Grimwarden looked to Alwynn, but the high cleric was already at the door to the chamber telling a flet soldier to fetch paper, quill, and ink.

“We all know the Rainsong,” Kiri Lee indicated the other lords. “But I will need to teach them the melody.”

“Especially me,” said Jimmy. “I canna' sing worth dirt.”

Kiri Lee smiled kindly at him and then turned back to the elders. “According to the prophecies, the Rainsong has great power.”

“The Rainsong,” Alwynn nodded. “Oh, yes. Quite!” And rubbed his hands nervously. “May we—may we hear it now?”

“Here?” said Kiri Lee, looking around. “Well, I don't see why not. If it's okay with everyone else.”

“Indeed!” said Goldarrow. She glanced at Grimwarden.

“Of course!”

“Very well.” Kiri Lee cleared her throat. She closed her eyes, bringing the melody to the surface of her thoughts, and then drenched the lyrics, line by line, in the rich deluge of the song. When she opened her mouth, it was auditory color that everyone saw. Felt. Touched. It was as if she were painting with her words. Entranced by the sweetness of the tone, no one noticed the lights flickering, nor the subtle tremor in the ground, nor the smell of rain in the air.

Grimwarden could not remember the last time anything had moved him as much as this song. There was power in the Rainsong, perhaps enough even to defeat the Spider King once and for all.

31
Battle of the Heart

FOLLOWING KIRI Lee's moving performance of the Rainsong from the day before, the Seven young lords and the elders engaged in a lengthy and, at points, heated argument. While the map of Vesper Crag's inner-workings still eluded them, the manifestation of the Rainsong, as well as its apparent power, seemed to prompt the most impatient to war . . . especially Jimmy.

“But we have it! Yu feel the power in it, just as I do.” Jimmy had his fist on the table. “I can't believe that yu would prefer we wait for a trivial, and even mundane, piece of reconnaissance when compared to the supernatural power of the Rainsong!”

“Trivial?” Grimwarden sat up. “Lord Thorwin, I have never said anything of the sort. I respect the power of the Rainsong, just as I respect the power of the prophecies. I would caution you of accusing me of anything less. However, I will say that in all battles, there are both elements supernatural AND natural. To be victorious, we are to be prepared on both fronts.”

“I must agree with Guardmaster Grimwarden,” added Elle. “Wars are won with as many allies as might be found. There is nothing unspiritual about waiting for the map, just as there is nothing natural about using the Rainsong.”

“So you would have us wait?” Tommy suggested.

“Wait?” Grimwarden drummed his fingers on the table. “Yes, I would have it so, at least for a time. But ultimately, these orders are not mine to give. They are yours. Yes, Jimmy, even yours. For we”—he motioned to Alwynn and Elle—“are your advisors, not your dictators. We believe Ellos brought you back to us, and you are the fulfillment of the prophecies. I have done my best to train you in all the ways of war and discipline. Now the best we can do is advise you.”

Jimmy began to argue more, but Tommy raised a hand toward him. “We thank you for your counsel,” he said, trying to sound lordly. Then, glancing at Jimmy, he went on to say, “While we are not old in years, we are passionate.” He gave a quiet laugh. “On Earth, we'd have said we're stoked. I guess we feel like we're ready now for what we've been called to do. And we intend to use the gift of our youth in battle. But while we are young, we lack the wisdom of years, and so . . . we look to you for it.”

One week later Tommy stepped down from the table and cornered a runner. “Any word from Nelly or Regis?”

“Nay!” The Elf was red-faced and gasping for air. “May I assist you in any other matter?”

“No, nothing.” Tommy ran a hand through his hair. “Thank you.”

“Endurance and Victory.”

“Endurance and Victory,” Tommy replied, turning back to the main table in the center of the room. He stared at the wooden pawns scattered across it. Grimwarden stood beside him.

“Patience, my young lord. It will come.”

“But we march for Vesper Crag at dawn! Was it not you a week ago saying we shouldn't attack without it?” Tommy smiled, half genuinely, half out of mounting frustration. “You confuse me sometimes.”

“I did advise you to wait, but only for a time.” Grimwarden stared at the table a moment and then continued. “I believe Nelly and Regis will return with the map. And if you still wish to honor my counsel, we will march at first light tomorrow.”

Tommy shook his head, laughing nervously. “Thanks for clarifying.”

Grimwarden looked up, catching a signal from Alwynn across the hall. “Ah, they are here.”

“Who are here?” Tommy asked.

“Come and see,” said Grimwarden cryptically. “We should get Kat, too. Given your shared love of heights, I think you will find this . . . rather exhilarating.”

Grimwarden led Tommy and Kat down a well-lit corridor on the eastern side of Nightwish. The hall was narrow and made more difficult to navigate due to the barrels clumped in twos and threes on either side.

“I've never been this way,” said Tommy.

“No,” said Grimwarden. “Not likely. This is an access route to one of our storage halls. Elle tells me you would call them warehouses. Strange name, as if you don't know where to find them. But, anyway, this particular warehouse is special and newly outfitted for a different kind of cargo.”

“You can say the Elven alphabet in your mind all you want, Guardmaster,” Kat said, grinning. “But you're going to let some thought slip, and I'll figure out what you're hiding.”

Grimwarden laughed. “I am a lifelong military strategist and tactician. The day I can't hide—”

“Birds!” Kat shouted. “You've got more of the scarlet raptors! Oh, my goodness!” Kat ran ahead.

Grimwarden was dumbfounded. “But I . . . I didn't think it . . . not anything so obvious!”

“She's good,” said Tommy.

Grimwarden harrumphed and increased his pace after Kat. He led Tommy to a vast, high-ceilinged chamber where brilliant sunlight poured in from dozens of newly delved porthole-size windows. Light also shone in from a wide gate cut into the rock wall at the far end, but Tommy was more captivated by the occupants of the huge chamber.

“They . . . they're beautiful,” mouthed Tommy. “And fierce.” Both Tommy and Kat stood marveling at the scarlet raptors, more than one hundred count. They stood in a straight line, all very still or quietly preening their wings. And each one bore an Elven rider. As Tommy gawked, the foremost rider deftly kicked up his legs and slid off his flying mount. He removed a leather helmet as he approached, and silver-blond hair spilled out onto his noticeably broad shoulders. His skin was dark like chocolate, and his violet eyes shone out brightly from beneath his silver brow.

The newcomer knelt, but his keen eyes never left Tommy and Kat.