Once A Hero (19 page)

Though I had lost sight of them for only a moment and had spent less than a minute in locating them again, the Elves surprised me when I found them. They had already shucked their armor, unsaddled their horses, and set up camp on a hilltop plateau. As I came through the circle of oaks that denned the perimeter of their camp, I wondered at how the trees would have taken root in such a precise pattern. Once inside, however, the answer to that question seemed unimportant, and I began to feel as if I were suffering from a morning-after without ever having enjoyed the night before.

A bit shaky, I swung out of the saddle, and a dizzy wave crested over me. I flailed at the saddle with my right hand, causing Blackstar to shy away from me when I needed the support. I kicked my left foot free of the stirrup and braced myself for the Elves' piercing ridicule. Before I could land flat on my back however, strong hands grasped me under the armpits and steadied me.

The dizziness vanished when my feet hit the ground. I felt energy pour up from the earth through the soles of my boots. My toes curled down into claws, and my spine arched back as millions of pinpricks raced up my body. I wanted to yelp from pain and surprise, but the power froze my throat. Old air burned in my lungs, but the urgency with which I felt I needed to breathe dissolved as the tingling bounced around inside my skull, then seemed to explode out through my forehead.

I dropped to my right knee, pressing my right hand to the ground to steady myself. I swiped with my left hand at the stinging sweat searing my eyes, then looked up at the Elves gathered at the center of the circle. They regarded me closely, watching and waiting for something. I snarled at them, then forced myself erect. I repaid their curiosity with defiance and received surprise back again.

Aarundel clapped me on the back. "I had not realized we were so close to a circus translatio."

"A what?"

He crossed to where Blackstar stood and picked up the dangling reins. "This is a place of great magick. Magii sylvani wove great spells here eons ago. Had you not been with us, were the perimeter not disturbed by our recent passage, you would likely not have noticed this place existed. If you had, you would have most probably decided it was evil and have chosen to avoid it." He led the horse over to where the others were picketed, and I followed. "That is fortunate because the results could have been disastrous."

I frowned. "What are you talking about? What I felt here was not pleasant at all. If that wasn't a disaster, I'm thinking I don't want to know what would have been."

Aarundel gave me an open smile. "Among Men, the ability to cope with magickal energies is much akin to the tolerance for vital libations. With some, evidence your man Gathelus, even a weak drink profoundly impairs them."

I nodded. If Gathelus so much as stands downwind of an open bottle of wine, he falls fast asleep. Drogo and Fursey Nine-finger, by contrast, could use Nakanese brandy as blood and still remain sharp. "Entering here could have left me senseless?"

"It could have killed you—in theory—though I knew you would survive." He shrugged casually as he slipped the cinch strap on Blackstar's saddle. "I know you well enough to know that your ability to tolerate magicks is substantial."

"How?"

Aarundel tapped his left eye and smiled. "I have seen it. You have made oaths and they have been verified." He pointed back in the direction of Aurium. "When you joined those two families, you made an oath, and it will survive. Had you been educated in the Art, you would be, for a Man, a very powerful magician."

I shook my head, refusing to believe him. "I'm not saying you may not be right, but I'm thinking you're counting a lot on an oath not yet two days old."

"You vowed to kill Tashayul, and cited prophecies that came true."

"Luck, not power."

"Oh, you are Fortune's child, Neal—and your birth beneath the Triangle proves it—but you have power as well." He glanced back over his shoulder at the other Elves. "They expected you to faint and, if you had, would have used that as a reason you should not be taken with us."

"You will understand if I say that disappointing them does not cause me much pain." I slipped a halter over Blackstar's head, then attached the lead to the picket line. "Why are we stopping here? It is barely noon, and we've a long ride before us."

Aarundel smiled knowingly. "But not as long as you imagine, my friend. Rest here, and we will be off when it gets dark."

One of the other Elves called to him, and Aarundel answered quickly in the Sylvan tongue. I smiled and nodded toward the other Elves. "Go, speak with them. You've been apart from your people for a long time, and they are an honor guard. They're proud to be here, and we should respect that."

"Thank you for understanding."

I winked. "What are friends for?"

Aarundel walked off and squatted down at the base of one of the oaks. I leaned back and watched them jabbering away among themselves. Every so often, though I understood nothing they said, I laughed, japing them. That generally prompted their voices to sink to whispers until a speaker became excited enough that his voice rose, and I laughed again.

In their vanity—and their reaction to my laughter—I found Elves far nearer to Men than either side of the Eldsaga would ever like to admit. That set a great part of me at ease, which is why, seated there with over a dozen people who had once tried to exterminate my ancestors, I drifted off to sleep.

I awoke quite alert, which I put down to the power of the magick circle instead of my distrust of my companions. Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I found Shijef crouched at my side. His fetid breath bathed me with the scent of long-deceased, recently devoured forest creatures. "Seek they steal Shijef." The Dreel pointed toward the Elves, then flexed his left paw, extending the claws. "Lifeblack pools."

I frowned as a semicircle of Elves approached us. Each of them wore a silver coronet, two silver bracelets, and a pair of anklets. The fire burning behind them flashed from the slender silver chain connecting bracelets up and over their shoulders. Two other looping chains hung from the coronet at their temples and linked into the shoulder chain. I suspected that similar chains ran up the backs of their legs and connected as well to the shoulder line, but I could not be certain because of the loose-legged black trousers they wore.

I grabbed a thick handful of the mane at the back of Shijef s neck and pulled myself erect. I knew it had to hurt him, but I wanted that to remind him who was master and who was slave. His appeal to me was not a request for rescue, but his asking permission to kill as many of them as he could. He knew I would not give it, but he asked in hopes I might make a mistake.

"Explain." Standing, I could see Aarundel seated back by the fire. He wore the same silver jewelry as the others, but had the faraway look on his face that I had come to associate with his communion with Marta. "I know we share a desire to leave the Imperator in peace at this time, so, please, do not make disturbing him necessary."

One of the Elves took a step forward and held out to me a set of the jewelry. "Required to continue the sojourn. You and it."

I accepted the jewelry and settled the coronet on my head. All I felt was cold metal against my brow and the backs of my ears. The catch-bracelets snapped over my wrists easily, which surprised me, as my wrists are thicker than those of an average Elf. With the anklets dangling down between my legs, I turned to the Dreel. "Secure them to my ankles."

Shijef snarled, but bent to the task. His huge paws closed the delicate loops gently even though I know he would have preferred to take my legs off at the knees. He remained seated on his haunches, refusing to look up, with his claws tracing odd patterns in the dirt.

I glanced over at the Elf holding the second set of chains. "Give them to me."

He did so, and I dropped to my knees in front of the Dreel. "Hold still." As I shut the bracelets and anklets, I made certain to clear all fur from the mechanism so Shijef would not have something more about which to complain. As it was, the bracelets were a fairly tight fit, and the coronet barely settled on the crown of Shijef's head. The chains had enough slack in them that I knew he could move normally, but he affected arm gestures suitable for a man thoroughly bound with chains of lead, not silver.

As I stood again and brushed the dirt from my knees, one Elf made a comment that prompted laughter from the others.

"He does not serve the beast, Siric, he prevents you from losing an arm while serving Shijef yourself." Aarundel's anger lashed out at the other Elves, and over half of them blushed.

I shrugged and looked beyond them at my friend. "I'd not be thinking Siric meant that comment harshly. Like as not he's thinking the Dreel is my pet—being as how, of course, only a Man would be dumb enough to keep a Dreel as a pet."

Aarundel nodded stiffly at first in acknowledging my point. "It would be like Siric to have forgotten to ask how a Man might have a Dreel traveling in his company. They might find the tale illuminating."

"Might be like they would, but enlightenment can wait." I held my hands up and shook the silvered chains. "Their explanation for our needing to wear these was a bit on the lean side."

Aarundel frowned at the other Elves, "The chains are attuned to the magick of the circus translatio. They allow you to use it. You'll see."

I smiled. "I can't wait. All dressed in our riding chains, should we be off?"

"Agreed."

Our horses had been similarly fitted with soft cloth of silver bands around their fetlocks, with the chains running along their belly and connecting up into the saddle. A silver plate had been slipped over the part of the bridle resting on the horses' foreheads, and that had two chains hanging down to connect with the chain running along the horses' breastbones. Blackstar seemed a bit skittish as I mounted up, but I patted him on the neck and that settled him a bit.

One of the Elves—it could have been Siric, but they all look quite similar in the twilight—leaned down from his horse and set a torch afire in the fire burning at the center of the clearing. Two other Elves extinguished the fire as Siric moved out toward the perimeter of the trees. He stopped in front of the tree closest to the northwest, bowed, and muttered something in Sylvan. Then he started to ride to the left, smacking the torch against the boles of each tree excepting the one where he started.

As he did this, I noticed two things. The first was that an uneven number of trees circled the clearing. Like the signs at a crossroads, I learned later, each tree marked one end of a plumb line that pointed to another circus translatio. While I've not got a merchant's head for figures, I realized that the Elves had an interesting network of magickal pathways stretching out over the face of Skirren.

The second thing was that the sparks exploding from every touch of a tree started to trail after Siric as he made his circuit. His horse ran faster and faster, as if the burning sparks were a swarm of bees in pursuit. A second and a third time Siric rode the circuit of trees, each time fire-annointing each tree except the first. As he completed the final circuit, he cut his horse hard to the left, bringing it to the center of our company; then he turned it and rode at a gallop toward the tree where he had started the whole ritual.

The sparks swirled around us, then again followed in his wake. I felt a magickal tug impelling me to follow him. I hesitated, knowing he was going to dash out his brains when he hit the tree. The other Elves spurred their horses forward, and I saw the Dreel galloping ahead in the thick of the pack. Only Aarundel held back, clearly waiting for me, so I touched my heels to Blackstar's ribs, and like an arrow loosed by a war bow, he shot forward.

The sparks clustered and thickened ahead of me, hiding the tree behind a golden curtain. As I closed with it, each spark became a dot again in a black honeycomb that closed over me with the feathery touch of a cobweb. As I passed through it, each spark stretched out to the length of Cleaveheart and shifted color from red to blue as I rode past. They dragged at me like an ocean's undertow, then touched my chains and released me. Free, I felt a moment of nothing before the onset of a pressure against me.

I met resistance akin to that of a strong headwind, but I could not feel the wind. My clothes remained still, as if I were not moving at all, yet between my legs Blackstar ran for all he was worth and then more. I instinctively hunched down against his neck, and I could smell his sweat as he labored so. Even though I had no trouble remaining in the saddle, each heartbeat brought with it the fatigue that a minute on the road would have caused.

That sapping of vitality might have concerned me, but other things served to distract me completely. The world through which we rode had become the ghost of itself. Whereas we had begun our journey at night, the sky and the landscape were white. Black pinpricks dotted the sky, and a black ball hung where I expected to see the evening's first moon. Trees flashed past all whitewashed and spectral, and I felt a cold chill as their limbs tried to drag me from the saddle.

I looked forward and back at the Elves and saw them still in color. My flesh remained tan and my tunic still appeared blood-red. Whatever magicks had been invoked in the circus translatio, we were a company now set apart from the rest of the world.

As we rode, miles fell behind us like rain falling in a monsoon. Then, suddenly, the land dropped away from beneath Blackstar's hooves, but he did not descend to the earth. He pressed on, as did the riders before me, his hooves striking hard on an invisible roadway. The horse galloped onward, apparently unconcerned with the lack of visual clues to his location. It occurred to me then that the Elves and the horses and even Shijef might see things entirely differently from me. If that allowed them to navigate through this world of white-shadow and lead me out of it, then I'd thank the gods for my companions' special eyesight and hang on tightly.

It should have occurred to me—given that when we rode through a tree, no forest branches had stung me and the land lay well below where Blackstar galloped—that the real world and our passage had very little to do with each other. This idea finally came to me when Blackstar plunged into a mountain. Bone-freezing cold filled me, and a shudder even went through my horse. The stone layers flashed by like a gray rainbow, with cracks and fissures cutting through them like black lightning forks trapped immobile.