The White Shadow Saga: The Stolen Moon of Londor (20 page)

"Allow me to draw this down," Lorn offered.
It would be no bother to the dwarf, since his charcoal and
parchments were with him.

"This may prove worthy," Arnanor added.

Lorn quickly reached into his pouch and
withdrew a small nub of charcoal and a single sheet of paper,
rushing as if the symbol might disappear before he could copy it,
quickly sketching the curved symbol and poking two dots within the
jagged form before rolling the paper up and stuffing it back into
his bag. "A lead to this mystery at last!" he said, wiping the
charcoal dust from his hands.

"Victory draws nearer!" Seth declared with a
smile.

"But the road is long," Gildan added.

"At least now we will not wander aimlessly
across the continent," Arnanor replied.

The Oracle now began to feel the draining
effects of his effort, and his once tall and rigid form slumped.
His forehead glistened with sweat. "Please find comfort in my home,
for it is now yours as well. Your quarters are shown for you just
outside the door you entered. Go and rest."

The company had started toward the door when
Arnanor, suddenly remembering his struggle on the stone steps,
turned to the exhausted Oracle. "Your barrier almost killed me. I
would like an explanation why it is necessary," said the prince,
determined to stand fast until he got a satisfactory response. "And
do not try to trick me."

The Oracle hesitated before he answered. "My
magic bars the way inside for those wishing to do my kind harm. A
dire threat lingers in my forest, and now it is unable to penetrate
to my safe house. This threat undoubtedly comes to rob me of
spiritual essence." Arnanor's first thought fell to the Mazazuken,
who had spoken of an unfinished task in this region.

Closer Arnanor approached the weakened Oracle
and gave him a serious look. The two locked eyes as the Oracle read
the elf's mind and responded with an unclear expression. Arnanor
knew that the ancient sage could see his thoughts. "You aren't
through with us just yet, that much is clear." It was a bold
comment that made Randor rejoin the prince. Then all the company
was back at the side of their leader.

"These visions you care not to know about."
The Oracle turned back to his pool of light and gazed into its
brilliance once more.

"What have you seen that threatens our very
lives?" the prince asked.

"It is not wise to ask that. I would prefer
to keep your minds open to the journey before you, unclouded by any
prophecy."

"Then think of me as foolish!" Arnanor
blasted. "I will risk this knowledge!"

The Oracle sighed and replied, "As you wish,
young elf." He gathered his concentration, taking for granted that
these visions would be easier to see, for he had already seen them
long before the travelers' arrival. This ceremony did not require
the harmony brought about by having the collection meditate on the
pool of light. The visions would come to him again easily, without
the added clarity of his visitors' focus. Again everyone gathered
and looked to the Oracle, awaiting the crucial words he was about
to speak.

"Much evil lies along your path." He paused,
struck deeply by the horrid images that flitted before him. "I
see…many lives lost and very few gains in this journey. Tragedy
lies in every corner, and victories are scarce, with many leagues
between. Deception is in your company, Randor--even at this very
moment." All eyes shot around the circle of companions, each trying
to assess who might be untrue to the purpose. "A spy is among
you--one whose only goal is to frustrate the very efforts you put
forth." Still their minds turned like clocks, overwhelmed by
suspicion. "One of you shall fall by the hands of evil, while two
more will slip into the shadows, hopeless of returning."

Lorn gulped, certain that it was he who would
die before this journey ended.

"This is quite the vision I feared," Randor
said quietly. "Is this all you see?"

"The light grows dim," the Oracle replied. "I
will give you no more prophecy this day." The radiance dulled to a
normal level of light.

"You have given us a much heavier burden,"
Arnanor said, not knowing how to deal with what he had heard.
"Perhaps I should not have asked after all."

"Will all of this happen?" Muron asked.

"They are mere visions, not all certain to
pass," answered the Oracle. "Foresight can always be changed. All
of you have the ability to change what has been set before you. If
you wish something to be altered, just believe in yourself, and you
will find the future flexible. Nothing is paved for any of us, not
even me."

Seth grew upset and wanted to forget it all.
Walking away from the circle and nearing the door, he said, "I have
had enough." Lorn immediately followed, needing his friend's
comfort. "We will be resting in our quarters if you need us."

"Yes, indeed," the dwarf added with a rush.
"Good night, gentlemen."

Malander and Gildan took this as a cue to
depart as well. After a couple of moments, only Randor and the
Oracle remained. The wizard turned to his old companion and bowed
in respect. "I thank you for your guidance."

"It was no trouble in the least. You serve
Ethindar well, bearing wisdom that benefits many. All will return
to us upon your victory."

"Once I find this symbol, I know it will not
be long before we discover the fate of the lost moon."

"Use great caution, Randor. Always watch your
companions. I know that at least one of them may let his rage
overrule his logic."

"I pray these visions are false. Deception
and death are things I care not for." Randor paused, then
continued, "What you say about a spy bothers me. If this is so,
then your showing of this symbol will quicken his leaving, to
report these tidings to his masters."

"Keep your eyes on your seven companions at
all times. If one does leave, you know he is untrue. Then it is
your duty to exact punishment for the act of treason at once." He
shifted his focus and mood. "What is the world truly like outside
my walls? I have not seen Londor with my own eyes for two thousand
years. All I see comes through this device of magic, and much of
the truth is distorted." He pulled his robes closer to his frail
body and grew silent.

"Much has deformed, and kingdoms fall further
from grace," the wizard replied. "Prayers fill my ears all the day
long, as it now seems I find myself unable to help those in need.
Prosperity is no more in the elven world, and war brews in many
fields from shore to shore."

"Great pain runs through my soul as I attempt
to gather my conjuring powers," said the Oracle. "In all my time,
never have I been drained of life after visions come to me. For the
first time in my existence I desire rest, and this is not my usual
behavior." The Oracle shook his head in disgust. "Such an inferior
way to regain one's self, is it not?"

"I do not rest as much as one should, but I
enjoy it when it comes," the wizard replied.

"So be it," the Oracle laughed without
humor.

"I must succeed," Randor spoke determinedly.
"If you and I both dissolve from this evil, the world will surely
die in vain."

"Do not be concerned for me," the Oracle
replied, caring not for himself. "Strength remains in me and my
spirits. Despair will not take me down for a great while."

"I pray that it does not."

"The night moves on, my friend. Join your
company and prepare them for the quest ahead."

Randor left the Oracle and made his way to
the door. Before he passed through, he glanced over his shoulder
and smiled, not wanting to disappoint the one who had taught him so
much in this world.

Through the recently opened door in the vast
chamber of their host, the company found a long and dimly lit
hallway. Of the three corridors that branched off to their right,
Gildan felt the second one best. A single door lay ahead, which the
elf-mercenary pushed open without thought, finding a lush,
comfortable space of rest. Eight beds lined the wall--an odd
number, Gildan reflected, for it was just enough to accommodate the
party. Two flames of yellow floated in the farthest corners. Each
took a bed, beginning with those nearest the fires. After leaving
Randor and the Oracle, they spoke hardly a word, all wanting rest
before the new day came. Suspicion played in their minds, the
Oracle's voice still burning on about spies and despair. Trust was
essential if they were to succeed, but the single word "spy"
brought all their hopes low.

Arnanor suspected Malander, convinced by the
knight's silence and his overly dark presence. Malander's mask tore
at the elf's curiosity, and he wanted nothing more than to rip it
off the human's pale skin before it drove him mad. Seth and Lorn
had an understanding without words about Malander, for they thought
the same as the prince.

Malander, however, paid no attention to the
many eyes that were fixed on him. He remained at peace in the
corner. The Oracle's words were already forgotten to him, and this
entire incident would be erased with the rising of the sun. All he
wished was the return of his strength, so that he might give his
absolute effort to his cause. The final half of the forest was yet
to be crossed, and Malander had to be prepared for its uncertain
outcome.

Randor came through the door, finding his way
to the soft bed next to Gildan's. The elf removed his sword from
his lap and leaned over to the wizard. "What do you say of all
this?" he whispered.

"A heavy weight, to be sure," said Randor,
his voice filled with fatigue. "I am not yet able to express myself
fully."

"Will you comply with his words?"

"I have no choice, Gildan. If, by chance, we
find another source that is more likely, then I will take it upon
myself to do what is right."

"I would not rely too greatly on the visions
of spies and death. The company is still unfamiliar with one
another, but we are strong and possess many talents."

"Indeed," the wizard replied.

"I have never seen a prophet who was true in
his magical abilities at all times." Gildan knew he had a point, as
did Randor, who nodded in agreement. "You saw how his powers were
slipping away. Even before our very eyes he grew weak. This evil
has clouded his gift, and it will not ensure our immediate
victory." Gildan glanced to his sword and sighed. "Time snakes
through our grasp like sand, and time is what we most need."

"The Oracle has never led me astray in my
journeys, and I will still hold his words to be true until I see
they are wrong."

"All he has done is place an unneeded fear in
our hearts," whispered the mercenary. "I fear not what he says, but
the others of our company do not need greater stress than what is
already dealt to us." He looked to those around him with a deep
concern and asked aloud, "Will the hope and trust that was present
before we entered these doors remain now?" Gildan grew frustrated,
but his soul was full of passion for good and for progress. "Don't
you see what he has done?"

No one responded.

"By telling these ludicrous ideas, the Oracle
has poisoned your minds." Gildan changed his tone. "I admit that
the symbol we saw gave us hope, but as soon as his tide turned and
words of despair flowed forth, I saw your spirits sink into
darkness."

"Gildan, please," Randor spoke gently. He did
not want this to continue, knowing that if the elf continued in
this vein a confrontation would arise. "Calm yourself."

"That is difficult to do when passion hits my
chest! Unity of this company is the only way we can see our way
through this. If we crumble, then so does the entire world!" He
slammed his clenched hand against the bed frame, startling Lorn.
Gildan took a deep breath and tried to lower his temper. "I am not
ready for the world to end, and neither should any of you be."
Weariness settled in, and he relaxed his tensed muscles.

"If the world fails," Malander began grimly,
"then fate has laid it upon us. You cannot remove the words of the
Oracle. They will forever replay in your minds, and I am sure it
will bring very uncomfortable dreams." He laughed softly in his ill
delight and fell silent again.

"We just have to be careful where we journey,
and keep one another from danger," Seth said as he lay down. "If
there is a spy among us, it will not take long for that person to
arise, now that our way has been given. The Council will deal with
this traitor and his masters later." Then, placing his sword at the
foot of his bed, he yawned from pure exhaustion. "I will see you
all in the morning, refreshed." He turned over and was still. "Good
night, Lorn."

"Sleep well, my friend," Lorn said as he
continued his artistic rendition of the symbol. He bolded the edges
and finely defined the smaller detail. Even though it was not a
drawing of joy, the task made him feel important. No one saw the
wide smile beneath his woolly beard. The charcoal flowed nicely in
his small hands and covered his fingers with its black debris. Lorn
noticed he had not much paper left, for he had not anticipated a
long journey ahead. His purpose was becoming clearer to him: the
cooking and drawing as commissioned was enough to be respected by
his fellows.

"Do not lose that paper," Gildan said, seeing
the dwarf place his tools back into his pouch.

"You need not worry about that."

"Looks like what we saw," Randor
remarked.

"I am fairly decent at mimicking things I
see," Lorn replied happily. Then he, too, lay down and felt the
comfort of the bed's soft sheets. Glancing over, he saw that Seth
was already fast asleep.

"So," Gildan began as he pondered the future,
"south leads us to the moon."

"Perhaps," Randor answered.

Many ranges of mountains, dense forests,
winding rivers, and great cities filled the southern region of the
continent. Their current surroundings were of forests and valleys;
the nearest city in their intended direction was some two days away
if they made haste. Randor planned to lead the company to
Nar-Fhandon, a metropolis that provided a large market for the
trade of spices, meats, jewels, woodcraft, well-made weapons--and
ancient secrets. Randor hoped another sign would reveal itself to
narrow the search.