Queen of Song and Souls (38 page)

Ellysetta drew back on her mount's reins, pulling the mare to a halt at the top of the hill. She stared down into the valley below with dawning wonder. Whatever she'd been expecting, it wasn’t this.

There were no buildings.

Navahele wasn't just a city in the trees; it was a city of the trees. Rings of Sentinels nearly twice the size of any they'd seen so far were twined together in overlapping harmony. Their glossy golden trunks and branches had grown into living cathedrals in which the Elves dwelled. Stairs circled massive trunks, and bridges crisscrossed the air above, all formed from branches, vines, and other symbiotic vegetation that grew along the great Sentinels' trunks and branches. Columns and elegant latticework of supporting roots grew in graceful splendor beneath the heaviest branches in a manner similar to bania trees. Leaf- and flower-covered vines hung from the canopy like ribbons around which birds and a dazzling array of butterflies fluttered like flying jewels.

"Come," Fanor said. He touched his heels to his mount's side, spurring the horse down the trail towards the stunning city of trees. "My people are expecting us."

Leaving their mounts at the bottom of the hill, the Fey followed Fanor as he led the way through the central grove of colossal, ancient trees. Thick, spongy moss, soft as eiderdown, carpeted the ground below the great branches. Each step was like walking on clouds.

Ellysetta couldn't stop herself from craning her neck and gawking like an awestruck child as, behind every tree, she found a scene of utter pastoral tranquility. Clear streams burbled over rounded stones, and lacy waterfalls tumbled in musical white waves down moss-covered boulders. Every-where, creatures of myth and legend abounded—animals and birds that had long since disappeared from the mortal world.

"Is that a ... Shadar?" she whispered to Fanor when she caught sight of a trio of Elf maids weaving flower garlands into the long, lustrous mane and tail of an enormous white stallion with a single, spiraling horn sprouting from its forehead. The stallion turned its proud head in Ellysetta's direction, then whickered and pawed the mossy ground with gleaming silver hooves. The soft laughter of the Elf maidens fell silent as they watched Ellysetta and the Fey pass.

"It is," Fanor said.

"I didn't know they still existed—or ever truly did, for that matter."

"Mortals hunted them nearly to extinction for their magic— the Aquilines as well." Aquilines were fierce, winged chargers who were said to spawn thunder with the beat of their wings and lightning with the strike of their golden hooves. "But both still thrive in Elvia."

Just looking at the Shadar made her almost giddy. "Is it true what the legends say about the power of a Shadar's horn being able to nullify any poison and purify any foulness?"

Fanor's white teeth flashed in an indulgent smile.
"Aiyah.
Shadar horn is a curative like no other, which is why mortals hunted them so exhaustively. They could touch Shadar horn to a poisoned well, and the waters would be instantly purified. ‘Tis said the touch of a Shadar horn can even save a man poisoned by tairen venom."

Rain snorted. "Now, that is myth. Not even our strongest
shei’dalins
can counteract tairen venom.”

The Elf shrugged. "Well, that's what Elvish lore claims. I don't know of anyone who's ever tested to see if it's true."

Tajik snorted and cast a speculative look Gaelen's way. "Perhaps vel Serranis could give it a try while we're here. Purely in the interest of science, of course."

Bel rolled his eyes. Gil and Rijonn sniggered. Gaelen just lifted a fist with his thumb tucked between his index and middle finger in a crude gesture. Tajik grinned and smacked a sarcastic kiss in his direction.

They stopped before a beautiful vine-covered arbor that curled up the trunk of one of the great Sentinels. A dozen Elves, golden skinned and beautiful, stood waiting at the base of the tree.

"Go with them, please," Fanor said. "Lord Galad bids you rest and refresh yourselves. At sunset, we hold a dinner to honor your arrival. He will see you after that."

The Elves led the Fey to individual guest chambers formed from spacious hollows that appeared to have been purposely grown into the Sentinel tree's massive trunk. Rain inspected the chamber he and Ellysetta had been escorted to and could find no hint of tool mark on any part of the smooth, seamless golden surface of the floor, walls, or ceiling.

Light inside the chamber was provided by a silver chandelier shaped like drapes of flowing vines, only instead of holding candles, the chandelier was covered in phosphorescent butterflies whose bodies gave off a gentle, silvery blue light as they slowly fanned their jeweled wings.

"When you wish to sleep, simply open the window and the
damia
will leave," said the Elf maiden who had escorted them to their chamber. "To call them back again, pour a few drops of this honeywater into the bellflowers." She held up a crystal flacon and pointed to the upturned tube-shaped silver flowers at the end of each of the chandelier's vines. "Refreshment and a change of clothing have been provided. There is a bathing pool at the base of the tree. The banquet to honor your arrival will be held on the terrace overlooking the pools that surround Grandfather's island. Make yourselves comfortable until then."

"
Talaneth
,
elfania,"
Rain said with a bow of his head.

The Elf, a beautiful woman with hair like nightfall and eyes as gold as sunrise, returned the bow. "Blessings of the day," she murmured, and departed with silent grace.

"What now?" Ellysetta asked, when they were alone.

"Now we relax as much as we can, and wait for sunset." Rain smiled at Ellysetta's disgruntled expression. After the long days of riding, she'd expected her waiting to be over once they reached Navahele. "In Elvia, all things come in their own time."

They helped themselves to the fruits and delicate pastries provided for them and availed themselves of the bathing pool. When it came time to dress, however, Rain left the Elvish clothing in a neat, untouched pile. As long as the Fading Lands were at war, the golden war steel of the Fey king would be his only garb. He cleansed the dust and grime of travel from the armor with a weave and polished the black and gold plates until they shone.

While Rain dressed, Ellysetta transformed her studded leathers into a silver-and-scarlet gown ornate enough for an introduction to an immortal royal. She left her hair down, flowing in thick ringlets to her waist, and settled a crown made of woven platinum, diamond, and Tairen's Eye crystal on her head.

"Well," she said, when they'd both finished their preparations. "Shall we go?" Her heart was thumping in her chest, and bands of nervous tension were drawing tight around it.

"You shine bright as the Great Sun,
shei'tani,"
Rain said with a smile. "
Aiyah
, let us go. And don't worry. Hawksheart is bound by the laws of Elvish hospitality. We are here by his invitation, as his guests. By that law, we're safer here than we would be anywhere else in the world."

"It's not physical danger I fear," she admitted.

"I know. But whatever answers he may have, Ellysetta, we're better off knowing, don't you think?” He held out his wrist.

She grimaced and placed her fingers on it. "That depends on the answers," she muttered.

They met the other Fey at the base of the tree. Like Rain, Ellysetta's quintet had forgone the proffered Elvish attire, and had merely cleaned and buffed their leathers to a glossy black shine and polished their steel until it sparkled diamond-bright. An Elf maiden joined them and, with a smile and a melodic command for them to follow her, she led Ellysetta, Rain, and the warriors down the stair that spiraled around the great Sentinel's trunk.

They walked across the meadow to a vine-bedecked terrace overhanging one of the crystalline pools in the heart of Navahele. There a wooden table carved from gleaming Sentinel wood awaited, its glossy surface adorned with glittering crystal plates and goblets and heaping platters of aromatic roasted meats, vegetables, and glistening fruits.

Elf maidens with ribboned garlands in their hair stepped forward to offer goblets of chilled golden Elvian wine that smelled of honeyblossoms. Ellysetta accepted a glass with a murmured word of thanks and took an experimental sip. Delicate flavor burst upon her tongue, lightly sweet and very refreshing.
"Beylah vo.
It's delicious," she told the Elf maid who had proffered the glass.

"We call it
elethea
, which means sunlight in Elf tongue," Fanor's voice explained from behind.

Ellysetta turned to find that Fanor had joined them on the terrace. He'd traded his hunter's garb for shimmering Elvish splendor: a long tunic that shone alternately moss green and gold when be moved, tied at his waist with a golden belt forged in the shape of leafy vines.

He gestured to the glass of wine in her hand. "It is made of the fruit and blossoms gathered from the highest branches of Navahele's Sentinel trees."

As the sun sank below the horizon, music filled the air. The Elves gathered in the meadows and arboreal balconies throughout the city to greet the twilight with soaring arias sung by voices so pure, the sound of them brought tears to Ellysetta's eyes. The maiden who had led the Fey to the terrace, the Elves waiting to serve them, even the warriors stationed throughout the city: all paused to add their voices to those of their kin and offer up their song to the heavens.

"They sing the
alinar
," Fanor told her, "a hymn of thanksgiving for the blessings of the day."

"It's beautiful." Ellysetta closed her eyes as the sound washed over her. The melody struck a chord deep inside, suffusing her senses with quiet joy and a hushed, reverent peace. To hear the Elves of Navahele sing was to hear everything good and lovely in the world transformed into glorious music.

The sun descended below the horizon and the Elvish song came to its end. With unhurried grace, Galad Hawksheart's people returned to their previous activities.

"That was breathtaking," Ellysetta said in the ensuing silence. "I think if I ever heard the Lightmaidens of Adelis sing their glorias, they would sound just like that."

"No matter what else one may say about the Elves, no one can deny the beauty of their song," Rain agreed.

Fanor bowed. "
Alaneth
. Thank you for your compliments. One of the highest aims of all Elves is to perfect our song."

"And yet you did not sing."

The Elf smiled. "I stand as your host this night. Elvish hospitality forbids me to sing a song you could not also join."

"Lord Hawksheart will not be joining us, then?" she asked.

"He rarely takes time away from studying the Dance. He will meet with you after you dine. For now, be bids you enjoy the peace and splendor of Navahele."

All around the forest city, as the rosy warmth of day faded to the dark of night, the soft lights of the
damia
began to glow, replacing the dying sunlight with a silvery blue beauty, as if the city had been dipped in starlight and moonbeams. Glittering night birds joined a host of smaller, tiny phosphorescent insects that darted amongst the leaves, branches, and vines of the city, until all the city sparkled with magical beauty.

"Come." Fanor gestured for the Fey to take their seats at the table and partake of the feast that had been prepared for them.

Celieria ~
South of Greatwood

Talisa diSebourne stood in the small, cramped, shadow-filled room of a small posting inn built on the southern fringe of Celieria's Greatwood forest and stared in growing horror at the tidy double bed tucked against the wall.

Since leaving Celieria City seven days ago, she'd managed to avoid sharing a marital bed with Colum, claiming first a severe travel sickness, then a mysterious ailment that left her vomiting for several days (if her lady's maid had noted the scent of the gallberry steeped in Talisa's morning tea, she'd kept her silence), then the genuine affliction of her woman's time (thank the Bright Lord for his mercy). But now her excuses had come to an end.

Candle lamps cast a flickering golden glow around the room. The inn's goodwife had rushed to freshen the pillows with a new stuffing of sage and sweet balsam before her noble guests Lord diSebourne and his bride retired for the night.

Upon learning the two were recently wed, the kindly good-wife had done her best to turn the small room into a bridal bower. In addition to the fragrant herbs she'd used to stuff the bed, the well-meaning woman had set out nuptial bouquets of fragrant Brightheart, slender twigs of an evergreen shrub whose soft, pale green needles exuded a divine aroma, mixed with scented wildflowers like the tender Love's Song, pale pink Blushing Bride, and soft blue Evermore. She'd even laid out a plate of sweetmeats and a bottle of her best pinalle, chilling in a small pewter bucket filled with precious ice chips. "To wish the happy couple joy," she'd said with a smile as she'd backed out of the room and left them alone.

Her kindly efforts had only rubbed salt in the open wounds scoring Talisa's heart.

Talisa clasped her hands together at her waist, her fingers surreptitiously clutching the edges of her robe with tense desperation as she turned to the man she'd wed. "Colum, please. I just need a little more time."

He laughed, the sound harsh and bitter. 'Time? I doubt there's enough time in all the world to make you want me again instead of him. Not that you ever did."