Shadows on the Stars (15 page)

Behind her, Lleu sighed. “Looks like we’ll just have to find the Lady the old-fashioned way.”

“By getting lost, you mean.” Nuic climbed up the bank of the rivulet and shook himself dry. As Elli stooped to return him to her shoulder, he added gruffly, “She never did like visitors.”

Just then a terrible roar shook the forest. Wrathful it sounded, echoing among the trees. The companions froze, trading nervous glances. The roar came again, much closer this time. A flock of crested doves took off, whistling in panic as their wings slapped the air. Branches cracked and snapped in the distance. Then came the sound of an entire tree—or several trees—uprooted and thrown down with a sickening smash.

Elli’s eyes met Brionna’s. “A dragon!”

“But,” said the elf, shaking her head, “we’ve seen no dragons in Woodroot for ages.”

“You’re about to see one now,” declared Lleu. “In just a few seconds, if you don’t get moving.”

The whole group broke into a run, while the falcon on Lleu’s shoulder took wing. Elli leaped across the waterway, carrying Nuic in her arms so he wouldn’t tumble off her shoulder. All the others followed, crashing through the underbrush, dodging vines and tree trunks, hurtling past scurrying hares, hedgehogs, and squirrels. All around, more animals sought shelter: a speckled green snake slithered into a hole by a tree root; a pair of hedgehogs burrowed into a bed of pine needles; a doe and her spotted fawn flashed past, bounding over a fallen branch.

Behind them, the dragon’s shattering steps only grew louder. So did its roar, loud enough on its own to shake great oaks and hemlocks down to their roots. Now they could hear the heavy, snarling breaths of the beast.

“It’s right behind us!” cried Elli.

She glanced over her shoulder to see a tall spruce smash to the forest floor, taking several smaller trees with it in an explosion of branches. In the space the fallen trees left against the sky, she watched in horror as an immense neck rose upward. Armored with shiny orange scales, each one broader than a boulder, the neck flashed like fire as it lifted. Impossibly long, it stretched on and on, until at last came the colossal head. Trailing towers of smoke from its flared nostrils, the dragon’s face was covered with green and purple scales that were blackened by charcoal. Its enormous ears swiveled wildly, as did its eyes, deep pools of orange flames that glowed with unending anger.

Then the dragon’s mouth opened. Within its long black lips, flecked with saliva, Elli saw hundreds of murderously sharp teeth—rows upon rows of them, each tooth as tall as a full-grown man or woman. Between them hung the remains of rotting carcasses and strips of blood-streaked fur, licked now and then by the mighty black tongue.

Again the dragon roared, louder than thunder. Like the others, Elli ran with all her strength, tearing through branches and leaves and spider’s webs, heedless of where she was going.

All that mattered was escaping the dragon. And those teeth! Her heart pounded inside her chest, her lungs burned. She leaped through a thick wall of greenery and then—

Fell. Down into a deep pit she tumbled, spinning head over heel, kicking up clouds of dirt and dead leaves. All the companions except the falcon plunged into the pit as well. They spilled down the side, rolled to the bottom, and landed in a tangle of limbs.

Though her neck and back ached badly, Elli shook the dead leaves off her face and sat up with a groan. She blinked, trying to focus. What she saw made her want to scream: the gargantuan head of the dragon drawing close to the edge of the pit. Its shadow, dark as doom, fell over the group. Elli drew a sharp breath, just as one of those fiery eyes fixed on her.

She sat there, utterly frozen in heart and mind, as the colossal jaws opened.

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Timer to End All Secrets

The dragon’s huge head bent toward the pit, as the long black tongue flicked hungrily. Rows of teeth, smeared with dried blood and rotting flesh, gleamed just above the trapped companions.

Then from the dragon’s mouth belched a thick cloud of smoke. Like lava of the air, it poured down into the pit, slowly covering the group, suffocating them in vile, sulfiirous fumes. Elli, like the others, coughed and gagged. She covered her mouth, waving her arms frantically to clear the air.

But that didn’t help. Dark smoke stung her nostrils, her throat, her watering eyes. She couldn’t breathe at all without spasms of coughing. The poisonous smoke was everywhere.

And then, all of a sudden, it wasn’t.

In half a heartbeat, the dark cloud brightened. As if suddenly shot through with light, it turned shimmering silver. Its noxious fumes vanished, replaced by moistness that seemed as soft as a cloud, and fresh as a woodland stream.

Mist
, Elli realized.
It’s turned to mist.

The vapors swirled about them, sparkling, then slowly pulled apart. Luminous shreds lifted, twirled, and spun, throwing spiraling rainbows into the air. At last, the radiant mist had thinned so much that it seemed to be made more of light than water. Elli and the others in the pit could only blink in the wash of brightness.

Then Elli realized that the pit, too, was gone. The steep sides had disappeared, leaving them in the middle of a misty plain that stretched on and on in every direction, farther than she could see. Elli turned around, scanning this vast meadow of mist that rolled away endlessly. Nothing but curling waves of whiteness rose above the horizon.

Except for one thing.

Out of the farthest edges of mist, a dark shape appeared. Elli tensed, still fearful of the dragon. But this was no dragon.

The Lady! She’s come to us.

Yes,
answered the woman’s airy voice that spoke inside Elli’s head.
With you, though, I am as angry as any dragon.

Elli winced as the shape drew closer, striding toward them through the vapors. And yet she couldn’t help but appreciate how lovely the Lady looked—just as lovely as she remembered, despite the grim expression. Her vibrant, gray-blue eyes, and the silvery hair that tumbled down in curls as abundant as Elli’s, shone with the magic of the enchantress. Her textured green gown, as light as mist itself, glittered as she moved. So did her shawl, resting like a cloud upon her shoulders.

And Elli knew what lay beneath that shawl. Wings! Luminous wings, glowing like feathered starlight. For the Lady’s true identity was the legendary Rhiannon—great leader of the early Drumadians, daughter of Elen the Founder, and sister of Merlin. This secret she had willingly entrusted to Elli, Nuic, and Tamwyn. No one else. And how had Elli repaid that trust?

“Forgive me,” she whispered hoarsely. “I didn’t mean to . . .”

Oh, but you did
, came the stern voice in her mind.
You heard my plea, through the valiant Sapphire Unicorn. Then you ignored it, by your own choice. Elliryanna Lailoken, you have put Coerria, as well as the rest of us, in danger. Great danger.

Elli bowed her head. “I am sorry, Rh—er, I mean, Lady. So sorry.”

The Lady approached, tongues of mist licking the hem of her green gown, until at last she stood before them. Elli bowed, more stiffly than Brionna, whose honey-toned braid swept through the cloud at her feet. Lleu bowed as well, very low, and as he rose, the hawk Catha floated down and landed on his shoulder. Even Shim did his best to be polite, although his bow looked more like a clumsy curtsy.

Then, to everyone’s surprise, the Lady herself bent low. Not in greeting, though, for she was actually bending to gaze into the eyes of Shim. “My old friend,” she said wistfully. “You are just as small as you were when we first met. And, I suspect, just as big in other ways.”

Perhaps because of her magic, the little fellow seemed to have no trouble at all understanding. Even so, he looked confused. “Didly you know me, Lady, all that long ago?”

She didn’t answer, though. She merely turned to Brionna and said gently, “Welcome, daughter of the wood elves. What is your name?”

“Brionna, good Lady.” She lowered her head gracefully. “I am honored by this meeting.”

“As am I.” The Lady observed her thoughtfully. “All the more since I perceive you come from the family of my dear friend, Tressimir.”

At the mention of her grandfather, Brionna stiffened.

With a sympathetic nod, the Lady whispered, “I miss him, as well.”

The elf maiden said nothing.

Facing Lleu, the enchantress said, “You and I have already met, haven’t we? In your dream?”

“Yes, Lady. Though as lovely as you were then, you are still lovelier now.”

“Quiet, Lleu,” snapped Nuic. “You’ll just give her a big head.”

Amused, the Lady of the Lake bent to pick up the sprite. And as she lifted him in her arms, he sparkled as much as the surrounding mist.

“Hmmmpff,” he said, trying unsuccessfully to sound gruff. “Terrible trick, that dragon. But I knew it was you all the time.”

Elli started. “You mean—”

“That’s right,” the Lady replied, waving her hand through a rising shred of mist. “It was all just an illusion. The roar, the rampage, and of course those terrible teeth. But no creatures were harmed, not even a twig.”

“Just my backside,” muttered Lleu, rubbing his spine.

“I hope you enjoyed yourself,” grumbled Nuic. “Scared me yellow, you did.”

The Lady’s eyes twinkled. “I thought you said you knew it was me the whole time.”

Nuic turned a deep shade of crimson. “Er, well, ah . . .” he sputtered. “I did, really. But I just forgot how formidable your sense of humor can be.”

She studied him, her eyes now melancholy. “My dear Nuic. If you must know, that had nothing to do with humor. I did it partly to let loose of my anger.”

“At me,” said Elli ruefully.

“At you, my dear.” She peered at the young priestess. “Now, though, I forgive you. After all, your rash behavior reminds me of no one more than myself.”

Elli’s lips quivered, but she said nothing.

Nuic swatted the Lady’s sleeve with his little hand. “You said partly. So there was another reason?”

The enchantress nodded. “I also did it to frighten off the person I sensed was following you.”

Everyone tensed. Brionna’s hand went to her longbow. But the Lady shook her silvery head. “He or she is gone. For now, at least. And it might have been someone innocent . . . though I doubt it. Even after your success in foiling Kulwych’s plans at the White Geyser of Crystillia, there is evil now in Avalon, such as I have not felt in many years.”

She blew a long, steady breath of air into a shred of mist floating by her face. Bight away, the mist transformed into a gleaming circle. Within it, another circle formed, and another, and another, until the rings grew so small they could no longer be seen. Elli gazed at this infinity of circles, wondering how many mysteries—and how many worlds—they might hold.

Watching Elli, the Lady almost smiled. Then, all at once, her face hardened. “I cannot be sure, but I sense a new shadow in our midst, a shadow that lengthens every day. Already it is long enough to blot out the stars of the Wizard’s Staff—and also the brighter sides of human beings, so they act like mindless trolls.”

Lleu’s brow furrowed deeply. Catha, on his shoulder, piped a shrill whistle.

“I’ve felt it, too,” Nuic said, his color going gray. “It is a shadow we have felt before, you and I. Long ago.”

The Lady of the Lake lifted him a bit higher, so their faces nearly touched. “Yes, my old friend. The shadow of Rhita Gawr.”

At the mention of that name, a chill wind blew over the mist, stirring the white waves, scattering them as a squall would the sea. The wind, or the name itself, made Elli shiver. Even the Lady drew her shawl a bit higher on her shoulders, covering the amulet of leaves she wore around her neck.

“We saw him,” began Elli, but she had to stop to clear her throat. “In a vision.”

“I know,” said the Lady. “For the vision came to me, as well.”

“Still, I’ve been hoping that it wasn’t really true. That he wasn’t really here.”

Mist curled about the Lady’s slender wrists. Gravely, she declared, “He is here, child. As surely as the Sapphire Unicorn is not.”

The enchantress drew a deep, slow breath. “There is still a chance to stop him, and to save our world—though it is slimmer than a spider’s thread.”

“What is it?” asked Elli. “What must we do?”

“Many things, I fear. But two most of all. First, we must somehow relight the stars of the Wizard’s Staff. And soon! Since your friend Tamwyn is not here, I assume that he has already embarked on that quest.”

Elli nodded stiffly.

“I only wish I had spoken to him first,” the Lady said ruefully. “There was much I could have told him about the Tree, the stars, and also his foe. But now he must discover all that on his own.”

Elli asked, “So you don’t even know if he’s still . . .”

“Alive? Yes, I believe he is. And beyond that, just knowing him, I also feel hopeful. And so can you.”

Gratefully, Elli peered at her. “And what is the second thing we must do? Bring the elixir to Coerria?”

“No, my dear. The fate of Avalon is not bound to the fate of Coerria. The second quest is something else.”

Elli ran a hand through her curly brown hair. “Then I’ll have to bring her the elixir first. Before starting the quest.”

“No.” The Lady shifted Nuic so she could hold him in one arm, then placed her free hand on Elli’s shoulder. “You do not have time for both. That might have been possible, if you had come here first, but now that chance is lost to us.”

Elli bit her lip. “Then I must go to Coerria. Whatever it means for Avalon, I just can’t abandon her.”

“You love her that much?”

“That much.”

The Lady regarded her with a mixture of admiration and affection. “I expected you would feel that way. Which is why I have decided, if you take the larger quest, to go to Coerria myself.”

“But,” objected Elli, “you never leave the forest, except in visions.”

“I will now,” she declared. “Whether to help my world or my old friend, I must. For I love them both dearly. And I would take the quest for Avalon, if I could. But now, I fear, I am too old and worn down to succeed in the larger quest. So I shall leave these woods, and my lair in New Arbassa, to go to the High Priestess.”