Soul Seeker (The World of Lasniniar Book 1) (50 page)

“It’s not over yet,” Feoras warned. “Saviadro will be desperate once he discovers our betrayal. He will use everything he has to stop you. I will hold the river against him for as long as I can, but I fear it will only buy you a short amount of time. If Saviadro gets past me, all he will have to do is find Valanandir or Iadrawyn and kill one of them to break the shield. You will be all that stands between him and the Quenya.”

“We will try to give you the time you need,” the Sea Elf captain said.

“Actually, I want to talk to you about that,” Feoras said. “You and the others must take the ships and go. I will hold the river myself. I do not need you to stay.”

“We have come to take our place in this war.” Alfiabalas frowned. “We will not abandon our cause after a single battle.”

“Your weapons can do nothing against Saviadro and his Forsworn. You must leave.” The Learnéd One’s tone brooked no argument.

“This is the same argument as before. We decide our own fate. You cannot protect us any longer.”

“But you will all be killed! Only I have the magic to control the water.”

“Feoras, as one who has lived among our people for generations, you have become one of us. If we had decided to go to battle on our own, would you stand beside us?”

“Of course! But—”

“Then do not ask us to do any less. I am the captain of this fleet. We will stay. You may have need for our cold steel before this is over.”

Feoras sighed. “So be it.”

“Here you are,” Alfiabalas said as the boat reached the shore of Eraquenya. “You must find the lord and lady. They will let you through the shield. Good luck.”

“Thank you both,” Iarion said. He helped Barlo scramble out of the boat. Sinstari jumped to land beside them. “Alfiabalas, if you do survive, could you do something for me?” The Sea Elf nodded. “Give the sisters my thanks.”

Alfiabalas smiled. “I will see it done. I—” His eyes became distant as a bleak fear fell over them.
“Koresina!”
he hissed, lapsing into his own tongue. Iarion could also sense the approach of the Forsworn. Saviadro would be with them.

The water churned as Feoras used it to propel the boat back to the ships. His strange eyes met Iarion’s, conveying his urgency.

“He is coming!”

–
Chapter Fifty-One –

Shadow Elf

Golaron plunged into the shadows of the forest. Silvaranwyn, Linwyn, and Lysandir were right behind him. The Forsworn did not follow. They had been forced to flee to find shelter from the sunlight. A Light Elf approached them and made a deep bow to Silvaranwyn. They shared a brief exchange in their own tongue.

“Iarion has been here,” she said once they were done talking. “He and Barlo passed this way only moments ago, fleeing for Eraquenya. We must hurry. Saviadro is on his way. Once he arrives, my people will most likely be overwhelmed, and his army will be able to enter the forest. My mother and father are shielding Eraquenya from attack, so the Fallen One will have to cross the river and defeat one of them before he can reach it.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Linwyn asked. She began to run once more without looking back to see if anyone followed. The rest of them hurried to catch up.

They had only been running for a few moments when a dark shadow fell over the forest. Golaron sank to his knees in despair.

Saviadro had arrived.

Silvaranwyn collapsed to the ground beside him, her eyes rolling back in her head. A heavy darkness grew on the edges of Golaron’s vision. Linwyn stumbled and fell moments later. She, too, was unconscious. From somewhere in the dim recesses of his mind, Golaron noticed the sound of approaching footsteps.

“He is here!” Lysandir seemed to be the only one unaffected. He gripped the collar of Golaron’s shirt and looked deep into his eyes. “The borders of Melaquenya have fallen. The dark army is on its way. Golaron, we must hide Silvaranwyn and your sister until they regain consciousness, before the dark creatures find us. You must fight the darkness!”

Golaron clung to Lysandir’s silver gaze to avoid drowning in the encroaching gloom. He couldn’t let anything happen to Silvaranwyn or Linwyn. He forced himself to help Lysandir drag Silvaranwyn under the cover of a nearby grove.

The footsteps were getting closer.

He and Lysandir hurried back to retrieve Linwyn. Golaron’s movements became sluggish, an effort of will alone. He could feel his resistance crumbling. His grip under Linwyn’s arm slackened as they reached the threshold of their shelter.

He could hold on no longer. He fell to the ground as his world was plunged into shadow.

Golaron opened his eyes to find Lysandir leaning over him. How much time had passed? There was no way to tell in the unnatural gloom.

“Good, you’re back,” Lysandir said. “A large contingent of the dark army has passed through the forest. We must hurry onward. Soon, another regiment will arrive. With Saviadro’s arrival, they will have abandoned the battle with our army. Now help me rouse the others.”

Lysandir went to Silvaranwyn’s side and spoke to her in Elvish, leaving Golaron to tend his sister. Linwyn was cold to the touch. Her face was contorted in a mask of anguish. A single tear traced a path down her cheek. He had never seen her in such a wretched state. It nearly broke his heart.

He gently shook her shoulders and called her name. When she did not respond, he pleaded for her to return to him. His shaking grew more insistent. Why wouldn’t she wake? A tide of panic rose within him. He blinked back tears of desperation.

“Linwyn! Please wake up. I need you. Iarion needs you. Please!”

Linwyn’s deep blue eyes flew wide open. She clutched his sleeve with a gasp.

“Iarion!” she croaked. “We must go to him.”

Golaron sighed. “I know.” He helped his sister to her feet. Silvaranwyn was already standing. Her face was ashen, but she gave him a weak smile.

“We must go!” Lysandir said. “More of the dark creatures are coming.”

Golaron could hear their approaching footsteps. He ducked into the open, his sword ready. The way seemed clear. Only the scattered bodies of Light and Sky Elves were to be seen. Lysandir stepped past him and began to run, leading the way.

A Darkling Man suddenly appeared before them, seeming to flee from something ahead of them. He lowered his spear and charged toward them. Golaron stepped out in front and moved aside and the last moment, striking the man down from behind. The man made a wet gurgling sound as he fell to the ground with his spear.

A hiss of warning from Linwyn caused Golaron to turn around. More creatures were running in their direction. Golaron thought he heard something in the distance to the south. What were they running from?

Behind them, the sound of approaching dark creatures became even louder. Golaron and his companions had to push forward, or they would be crushed between the two forces.

Linwyn was already moving. She ran with her sword drawn, calling Iarion’s name. Golaron ran after her. He could only hope Lysandir would take care of Silvaranwyn.

There was the familiar, jarring shock as Golaron and his opponent made impact. He wasted no effort on finesse, knowing time was critical. He cut into the closest creature however he could and moved on, leaving a path of wounded and dead in his wake. Beside him, Linwyn had fallen into one of her battle rages. She laughed wildly as she fought with impossible strength.

They were getting closer to the river. Golaron could hear it. With each step, he also noticed a bleak terror growing inside him. The Fallen One was near. Golaron forced himself to focus on the task at hand.

“The river is just ahead,” Lysandir called out from behind. “Saviadro is already there. We cannot let him cross the Rillin!”

Golaron fought with renewed purpose, pushing his terror aside. There were fewer dark creatures coming at them from the direction of the river. An eternity seemed to pass before the path was finally clear. They ran toward the sound of rushing water and the source of their fear.

Golaron came to a sudden stop. He couldn’t believe what he saw before him. It took several moments for it to sink in.

Saviadro and three of his Forsworn Ones were there, mounted on their drakes. Their backs were to Golaron and his companions. Before them, the water of the river had risen to three times the height of a man, defying the laws of gravity. It churned in the air, creating a solid wall.

Atop it sat a line of ships armed by elves with white and silver hair, who wore mail that reminded Golaron of fish scales. A man in blue-green robes stood apart from the elves, his arms held aloft and his graying-brown beard blowing around him. He appeared to be wounded.

“You cannot pass,” the man said.

“Fool,” the Fallen One said in his harsh voice. “Your betrayal will cost you the lives of all your precious Sea Elf children. My own source of power is close. I have had it for so long, not even the Light Elves’ magic can prevent me from using it.” The man reeled at his words, but did not relent. Golaron realized he must be Feoras.

Golaron found himself pushed aside by Lysandir. The Learnéd One threw his arms out before him, creating balls of fire in midair. He hurled them toward Saviadro and his Forsworn. Sensing the attack, one of the drakes bearing the Forsworn turned and countered with an icy blast. The two forces collided in midair, throwing Golaron, Linwyn, and Silvaranwyn to the ground.

“Well, what do we have here?” Saviadro turned toward them. “If it isn’t my loyal ‘son’.”

Golaron knew they were in trouble. It was clear from what had just happened that any further displays of magic from Lysandir were out of the question. The quarters were too close. Another averted attack like what they had just witnessed could kill them all. But he knew Saviadro and his minions were not vulnerable to mortal weapons. All they could do was hope Iarion had already gotten through and try to buy him the time he needed.

Lysandir shrugged at Saviadro’s words. “Are you not proud of my betrayal and deceit? After all, I learned from the best.”

“I never should have allowed you to kill Numarin. He was the only one of you who was faithful to me,” Saviadro said.

“You always did have a soft spot for me.” Lysandir smirked. “You cannot blame me for exploiting it.”

“This ends now. In a matter of moments, you and your friends, Feoras and his elf brats, you will all be ash. Nothing will remain. And I will go on to Eraquenya to claim what should be mine. Valanandir and Iadrawyn should never have wielded the Quenya. They are too weak. If not for their mistakes, Ralvaniar would still exist and the elves would rule supreme.”

“Under your leadership, I suppose,” Lysandir said.

“And rightfully so! I was the one who wanted to take a stand against the dark creatures who terrorized our homeland. All Valanandir and Iadrawyn wanted to do was run and hide. They squandered the Quenya’s power until it was too late. All the other elves followed them like bleating sheep. How many of them were killed because of it? My own parents…” The despair was palpable. “Enough! I will not allow you do delay me further.” The Fallen One nudged his drake forward, followed by his Forsworn.

Golaron and Linwyn stepped forward to meet their fate. Tongues of flame ran along the blades of their swords. Lysandir was helping them the only way he could. Golaron knew it was all Silvaranwyn could do not to collapse in the Fallen One’s presence. Golaron would do whatever he could to keep her safe. He charged toward the closest drake. Linwyn was right behind him. It seemed strange for Golaron to be the one leading the way into battle.

The drake swung its long neck around, trying to take aim as Golaron approached. But Golaron dodged as he ran, making himself an unpredictable target. He was rewarded when he managed a desperate dive beneath the creature’s stomach. Linwyn ran amok, swinging at each of the drakes to create a distraction.

Golaron rolled onto his back and thrust his flaming blade deep into the closest drake’s belly. The beast screeched as dark blood gushed from the wound.

Golaron rolled away, just before he was crushed by its lowering mass. He waved his sword in the air and ran around like a man possessed.

The wounded drake’s eyes rolled, filled with pain and madness. Its head followed Golaron everywhere he ran, its icy breath right on his heels. Golaron sprinted behind one of the other drakes. The wounded creature continued its assault, not realizing it was attacking one of its brethren. The other creature squealed and turned to retaliate.

The drakes were large and dangerous, but they were not intelligent. The Forsworn Ones that rode them tried to get their mounts under control, but it was too late. The two drakes were beyond reason. The air was soon filled with deadly blasts of frost.

Golaron ran off to the side, pulling Linwyn with him. Linwyn used the confusion to leap atop the third drake’s neck and drive her sword into its spine. It groaned and she jumped free as it collapsed to the ground. An explosion rocked the forest as the two battling drakes consumed each other. Golaron stumbled and fell. Although Saviadro and his Forsworn could not be killed, the Fallen One’s mount was the only drake that remained.