First Comes The One Who Wanders (47 page)

Leilas finished her meager breakfast still lost in thought. She looked over to find Erion still resting. Why would this crafter want the staff and why would Rengailai give it to him? She sighed in frustration. There were so many questions for which she didn’t have answers. Maybe if she had more time. But she didn’t. The whole of Preterlandis was at war and would be destroyed or inalterably changed if she didn’t find the pieces of the staff and meet Rengailai and this crafter at the Chasm of Ceryk. And then? That part was less clear. She could only hope that as she found the pieces of the staff, its use would become clear, as would the identity of the woman in her dream. Leilas knew she was the third one to be chosen and that she had a task to complete, too. One that was tied to hers, if her dreams were showing her pieces of her future. For now, she would take some comfort in the fact that the people following her didn’t want her dead until she'd completed her task, either. Of course, that didn’t mean they were safe. Yesterday’s foray belied that idea.

She poked Erion in the arm and then began to pack the animals. Erion was soon helping and they were quickly on their way. With luck, they would reach the spot marked on the map as the temple dedicated to Crog by midday. None of the new maps referenced it. Either no one had been to this spot in a very long time, or the temple was hidden and they would have their work cut out for them finding it.

Either way, they were going to have to leave the road and travel through the forest. Leilas fretted over whether to use magic to protect them or not. It would be like lighting a beacon fire in this forest of dark magic. In the end, she decided to chance the danger of the forest without the protection of magic. Between Erion and herself, they were already attracting more attention from the dark creatures that lived here than they wanted. There had been several occasions when she was sure she'd seen eyes watching them from behind the trees and rocks. No one but the darklings had dared to attack, but the animosity she’d felt was potent. Also, she'd like to make this crafter and his servants have to work to find them. The more time she had to find the temple, the better. As Joshuas said, why use magic when a sword would do?

Erion turned to the right, off the road, and headed into the forest. If he was apprehensive about entering this cursed place again, he didn’t show it. The animals snickered nervously, but entered the wood obediently.

"According to your map," said Erion, after they'd traveled through the trees for most of the morning, "this path we’re on should lead to the temple."

Leilas looked forward, then turned and looked back. "This is a path?" she asked doubtfully. "I thought you were just leading us through the trees."

"It appears not to have been used for many years," agreed Erion. "But I can see where it leads."

"Why do you think the people abandoned this temple?" asked Leilas as they rode.

"As the dark magic became evil, they grew apart from the pure magic of Crog. They were no longer interested in giving homage to a pure being."

"They prefer to give homage to Rengailai?"

"No," said Erion thoughtfully. "They fear Rengailai’s power and position. They fear his power to destroy them. But they don’t pay him honor."

"So they do what they believe it's right to do, with no authority?"

"And chaos is the result," agreed Erion.

"And they're lost in the darkness," said Leilas, sadly.

"While we live, there is always hope," replied Erion.

"And hope is what makes us what we are," Leilas finished the benediction.

"So, let us hope it can be set right."

The trees broke into a clearing about a mile down the trail. When he reached the clearing, Erion stopped and dismounted. "It’s quite a temple don’t you think?" he asked, swinging his arm over the empty meadow, the sarcastic tone brought on by the dark magic back in his voice. There was no sign of any temple ever being in this place. But Leilas wasn’t willing to abandon the search quite so easily. This clearing was at the foot of Mount Pyrion, Crog’s mountain. Leilas slipped from her saddle, her mind working. Crog, who is the fire crafter. Mount Pyrion, which is the Fire crafter’s mountain. Could a mountain, a volcano, she corrected herself, be considered a temple?

If that were true, she wouldn’t find a temple here in this clearing, but a door. "We aren’t looking for the remnants of a temple," she told Erion excitedly as she began to search. "We're looking for a door."

Erion looked around skeptically. "Where do you think we'll find this door? In a tree, perhaps?" he said sarcastically. It hadn’t taken long for the magic in these woods to worm its way through his natural immunity once he'd dismounted. His reaction to this magic frightened Leilas. What would happen to the forest elves if this magic spread into their forest? Their natural defense against magic wouldn’t protect them. She feared they'd be destroyed.

"That might depend on who made the temple," replied Leilas, ignoring his attitude. "If elves created it, then it could be a tree, couldn’t it?"

"Well, it’s not. There are no doors," retorted Erion.

"Since I came all this way, I’m going to keep looking, if you don’t mind."

"And if I do mind?" asked Erion.

Leilas would have laughed at the change in him if it wasn’t so serious. "I’m going to look anyway."

Erion plopped down in the grass and closed his eyes. "Look away. I’m going to take a nap."

Leilas was tempted to use magic to snap him out from under the influence of this spell, but resisted. He could wait here. She would find the temple door while he rested. She was fairly certain he could take care of himself should trouble arrive.

Despite his assurance, Leilas checked each tree that ringed the clearing for anything that resembled an opening. Finding nothing there, she studied the rocks that rose up at the edge of the clearing. There were no caves or any signs of a door. Pulling out the map, Leilas studied it again, looking for some clue. Erion continued to nap. The map marked the temple in the center of this clearing. Leilas looked around and frowned. There was nothing in the middle of this clearing but a sleeping elf.

The afternoon was wearing on and soon she would lose her ability to search. In spite of what her eyes were telling her, she went to the center of the clearing and began to search for something, a door, an opening, or remains of a building. She felt herself growing irritated at Erion for doing nothing to help her. It was the dark magic. She knew that in her head. It was hard however, to convince the rest of her not to be angry.

Near the center of the clearing, there was a boulder. This was the only boulder in the clearing. That fact drew Leilas to it. There was nothing remarkable about the boulder at first glance. She was about to move on then changed her mind. Examining it closely, she found some etchings filled with dirt. Brushing away the dirt, she found the etching to be a rune. The same rune she’d seen in Rengailai’s dungeon. Leilas frowned. She’d hoped she could find what she was looking for without any magic. It appeared that wasn’t going to be the case. She looked over at Erion. He was still sleeping, or pretending to sleep. Turning back to the rock, she raised her arms and spoke the ancient words of opening she’d learned in Rengailai's study.

There was a large cracking sound, the earth beneath her feet shook violently, and the earth opened up beneath her. She found herself falling. It was a long drop. She felt her leg give way as she hit the floor. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there stunned and in pain. Looking up, she could see Erion searching frantically for her, but he couldn’t see the opening or speak the words of opening. She tried to send her thoughts to his, but he seemed to have a natural defense against telepathic communication and she couldn’t reach him. She attempted to stand and fell back to the ground in pain. After the throbbing in her leg eased, she called up some light and looked around for something she could use as a walking stick. A great deal of debris had fallen with her into this hole, and as luck would have it, a large branch was among the rubble. She divided her time between whittling on her stick and trying to figure out a way to reach Erion. He was still near the opening. She could try the spell again. She didn’t know how well it would work if she wasn’t near the stone. Still, she decided to give it her best shot.

Crawling to a spot where she believed she would be protected from any falling objects, she raised her hands and spoke the spell of opening again. There was a large crack followed by a surprised oath from Erion. Unlike her gangly descent, Erion landed lightly on his feet.

"About time you showed up," said Leilas, jokingly. "I thought you were going to sleep all day."

"That magic is the damndest thing," said Erion, helping her to her feet and handing her the walking stick. "To be able to affect me the way it does. I worry for my people, if they use it in our forest."

"Hopefully we'll have accomplished our task before that happens." Leilas tested her crutch and her leg. Both seemed to be functioning adequately.

"There are some torches here," said Erion, looking around. "Here is the doorway. Shall we go see Crog’s temple?"

"That's why we came," replied Leilas. Erion led the way and Leilas limped on behind him.

The arched doorway led into a manmade cavern carved into the obsidian left by the volcano. The room appeared to be black ice. The torch gleamed darkly in reflection. Where Anhj’s temple had been light crystal, Crog’s was dark crystal. It was beautiful in its symmetry, thought Leilas. This temple was an exact replica of the crystal caves only in dark obsidian. On the platform was a dark block of stone. Leilas felt a shiver of trepidation run up her back at the thought of what this stone might tell her. In the Crystal Caves she’d been forced to look at all the darkness and evil inside herself. She’d been subjected to a recounting of all the evil she’d ever done. What would Crog require of her?

"This is magnificent," said Erion. "It's the work of the Ignian dwarves. Look at all this detail." Erion moved across the room, looking at the pictures carved there. Leilas followed by his side. The story of Crog creating the volcano was told there, etched into the stone, a story that wasn’t told in the School of Sky, anymore. The mighty crafter had taken stone, crushed it, heated it, placed it deep in the earth then watched it until it found its way to the surface. It opened forth in magnificent fountains of fire. The people were awed and humbled by the power and beauty. They honored Crog for his creation.

"Now the temple is buried and the people honor no one," said Leilas sadly. They'd walked around the temple and were back at the door. Leilas turned and faced the stairs and the block of stone on the platform. "This I have to do alone," she told Erion, "no matter what happens."

"I’ll be here when you're done," said Erion, resting easily against a wall.

"No arguing that you should do this or at least come with me?" asked Leilas.

"I'm not Joshuas. I do understand this is for you to do," replied Erion. His grim expression belied his calm demeanor.

Squaring her shoulders, Leilas limped to the stairs and struggled up them. Reaching the platform, she moved to the block of stone and touched it. Nothing happened. Leilas stepped back in surprise. She’d been certain that was what she needed to do to activate the stone.

Stepping back to the stone, she tried again. Again, nothing happened. She turned to look at Erion, who was intently watching from the floor. He shrugged his lack of ideas.

Leilas walked from one end of the block to the other, then back. There was no sign of any kind on the stone. Then a thought occurred to her and she walked around the stone. Standing facing this side of the block, she touched the middle.

"Few have survived, who dared to touch this stone. Only one may learn the secrets hidden here. Only the magic within you has saved you thus far. Turn back now while you are still able."

Leilas stood her ground, though everything inside her told her to run. There was no flash of light this time. Instead, a thick, dark mist rose from the platform and enveloped her.

Erion was leaning over her, tapping her face gently when she opened her eyes. She was no longer on the platform. "Thank the Creator you’re alive," said Erion when her eyes fluttered open. "When I saw you fall, I was convinced that rock had killed you. I waited until the mist cleared, then went to recover your body so I could send you to the Creator properly. You can’t imagine my joy when you were still alive."

Leilas shuddered slightly at the memory of what she’d seen in the mists, so many regrets, so many lost opportunities. They threatened to overwhelm her. Blocking those thoughts from her mind, she tried to sit. Erion helped her, moving her closer to the wall so she could lean against it.

"I don’t think these stones will kill me, unless I choose to follow the darkness somewhere along the way," remarked Leilas in a tired voice. This test had drained her energy. "I need something to eat."

"The food is all with the horses. I’m afraid if I leave this place, I won’t be able to find it again."

Leilas nodded wearily. He was right. She would have to open the door and she wasn’t sure she had enough strength left to open it. "Then I’ll have to do without," she said with more bravado then she felt. "We need to collect the piece of the crafter’s staff. It's in the right hand pillar of the back of the platform."

"I’ll get it," offered Erion.

"You can’t," said Leilas. "The magic would kill you if you tried."