Soul Seeker (The World of Lasniniar Book 1) (22 page)

Barlo had not been thrilled with the idea of riding again, but time was of the essence if they were going to retrieve the tainted portion of the Quenya and reunite it with the rest before Saviadro conquered Melaquenya. The dwarf rode with Iarion. The only thing that had stopped his grumbling was the mention of Dwarfwatch.

As they moved farther north the air grew chill. The Wild Lands were a large expanse of trackless grassland that spanned from Sky Lake and the Sunset River in the east, to the far west. Even Iarion could not see where they ended. He sometimes saw herds of the
Beliadar
’s horses in the distance, but they kept well away from the strangers who crossed their territory.

They rode in silence, trying not to notice Nal Nungalid across the river to the east. Black smoke rose from the human city. Iarion was glad they did not have to pass within reach of what had become an enemy stronghold.

They rode until the sky grew dark before setting up camp for the night. Lysandir refused to risk a fire. They settled on their bedrolls under their blankets, leaning against their horses for warmth. They ate a cold meal of nuts, berries, and smoked meat from the
Beliadar
. Silvaranwyn refused the meat. Sinstari ate her portion. As the night grew colder, Lysandir relented and lit a small fire in a deep pit cut from the turf.

“So I understand you want to take away this bit of ‘Quenya’ from the Fallen One to reunite it with the rest in the south,” Hidar said as he ate. “But you still have not explained what it is. Is it a weapon of some kind? How did it get separated?” He frowned.

“You do not know of the Quenya?” Linwyn’s voice was incredulous.

“Lesser Men do not have the connection with it the other races have, being the youngest,” Lysandir said. He looked at Hidar and paused before continuing. “The Quenya is the magical force many of us believe created this world and everything in it.”

“Is it a god then?” Hidar asked.

“Not in a sense that you would understand.” Lysandir tried to explain. “It is not a single entity, but a higher level of a collective consciousness. It does not manipulate mortals or dictate their fate in the manner that a god might. It is a raw force of pure energy. But for those who can maintain a connection with it, the Quenya will help them realize their true path in life. To choose to follow that path is to grow closer to the Quenya. Many, such as the elves, believe to reach one’s highest potential and fulfill their ultimate destiny will allow their soul to reunite fully with the Quenya.”

“Is that what elves believe will happen when they die?” Hidar frowned.

“Elves believe in a cycle of rebirth,” Silvaranwyn said. “We are reborn several times based on our performance in our previous life. Shadow Elves like Iarion are eventually reborn as Light Elves, who live in the light of the Quenya. It is important we live according to the call of the Quenya. When our fate in each life has been fulfilled, we die to be reborn again.

“But if a Shadow Elf is killed before they can achieve their destiny, their soul is lost. This is why it is so important for elves to have as close contact with the Quenya as possible to understand their place in this world.” A few moments of silence followed Silvaranwyn’s words. It was the most any of them had ever heard her speak.

“And what of the Light Elves?” Hidar asked. “What happens to them if they die without fulfilling their destiny?”

“That is not known.” Silvaranwyn’s face grew sad. “None have returned. Some believe they rejoin the Quenya, while others believe they are sentenced to oblivion, or are simply waiting for the right time to be reborn. There are even some who think they are perhaps reborn as Greater Men.”

Hidar turned to the twins. “What do your people believe happens when they die? Do you also believe in this Quenya?”

Golaron scowled at the question, but Linwyn answered. “We believe our souls rejoin the light of the Quenya. Those who follow a dark path are sentenced to oblivion. We also believe that sometimes, the souls of those who are deserving and needed come back.”

“And you, dwarf?” Hidar turned to face Barlo.

“My kind believe the souls of the good join the First Father in his great hall, to feast and drink with him until the end of time.” He gave Hidar a curious look. “What about your people?”

“Our spirits join those of our ancestors to watch over the living. We often send prayers to them for guidance or protection.”

“That is probably enough of such talk,” Lysandir said with a frown.

“But you have not answered yet,” Hidar said.

Iarion stepped in to avoid a potential confrontation. “He has not answered because he does not know. There are only three of his kind and none of them have died.”

“Many
Linadar
believe the Learnéd will either be reborn among our kind or among the
Goladar
,” Silvaranwyn said in her soft voice.

“Now it is definitely time to get some sleep.” Lysandir scowled. “Hidar, you can take the first watch, since you seem so awake.” The Learnéd One lay down with his back facing the rest of the group.

No one decided to comment. Once the watches were sorted out, the rest of them settled down to sleep. All the talk about the Quenya and the afterlife only served to remind Iarion of the importance of the quest. They were getting closer to reaching their goal. Although he was grateful for the companionship of the others, he was still considering leaving them to complete the quest on his own. He knew if they entered the dark lands together, the odds of them all escaping alive were slim at best. He didn’t want any of the others to die needlessly.

After some serious thought, he decided if the opportunity presented itself without his interference and their group became separated, he would leave the others. He didn’t know whether it was the will of the Quenya, but it felt right to him. He would probably have to take Barlo along. The dwarf would be difficult to abandon. Iarion smiled to himself. His decision made, he drifted off to sleep.

It was almost midnight when Iarion found himself waking to sit bolt upright. The fire had burned down to embers and the darkness was almost complete. Iarion sensed more than saw a huge shadow flying overhead. The now familiar feeling of terror crept in. It was a Forsworn One.

Lysandir snuffed out the embers of their small fire with a word. Iarion had difficulty making out the outlines of his companions in the blackness. He reached out to where he knew Silvaranwyn was lying. The
Linadain
was shivering with fear. Sinstari uttered a low growl and stood in a crouch, hackles raised. The horses were on the ground beside their riders trembling, their eyes and nostrils wide with fear.

Everyone was awake, but no one spoke. The shadow above flew a circuit over the Wild Lands, seeming to search for something. No one moved.

After several long, breathless moments of silence, the shadow completed one last sweep and flew off to the east. Everyone relaxed. Silvaranwyn’s shaking slowly stopped.

“We dare not light the fire again,” Lysandir said.

“How am I supposed to see?” asked Hidar, who was still on watch duty.

“I will keep watch until dawn,” Iarion said. He was awake now anyway and could see far better than a Lesser Man in the dark.

“Do you think it saw us?” Hidar asked.

“If it did, we would already be dead,” Lysandir said. “Now get some rest while you can. We must reach Dwarfwatch tomorrow at all speed. It could have been a routine circuit, but we cannot take any chances.”

Everyone settled on their bedrolls, trying to shake the terror they had just experienced. In a matter of moments, Iarion could hear Barlo’s snores. The elf made himself comfortable and stared out into the night. Sinstari padded over and stretched out beside him. Iarion laid a hand on his warm fur.

The hours between midnight and dawn passed quietly. Iarion roused the others as the first pale fingers of light crept over the eastern horizon. Everyone seemed recovered from the events of the night before. They ate a cold breakfast and saddled their mounts, riding north once more. The snowcapped Mountains of Wind rose before them in the distance. Iarion hoped Dwarfwatch would be the haven they needed before crossing into the dark lands.

They rode for several hours without rest. As they approached the southern branch of the Sunset River, Iarion found himself looking at the sky. It was a cool, clear day. Only a few white clouds drifted overhead. Other white forms appeared. Iarion frowned. They were gulls.

He was reminded of the one he had seen when he, Barlo, Lysandir, and Silvaranwyn had set out from Melaquenya. What were they doing so far inland? It was beyond Iarion’s understanding. The gulls seemed to follow their path as they rode.

When the group arrived at the river, they dismounted to water their horses. Sinstari also took a long drink of the cool water. The gulls circled overhead.

“What do you make of that?” Iarion asked Lysandir, drawing him aside from the others.

Lysandir squinted. “Strange. I do not know what they mean, but Saviadro does not use gulls as spies. My brother, Feoras, does, but his domain is far to the east. If he sent them, the birds would approach us, not circle like that. Silvaranwyn?” The Learnéd One beckoned the
Linadain
over. “Can you make contact with those birds?”

Silvaranwyn looked up. Her golden eyes unfocused and a small creased her brow. After a few moments, she shook her head.

“They are beyond my reach.” The words came out in a breathless rush, as though even this small task had taxed her.

“What do we do?” Iarion asked. The others were beginning to notice the birds as well.

“Although I hate the thought of delay, I think we should stay here and rest for a while to see how they react. I do not like the thought of our passage being tracked.” The wary tone in Lysandir’s voice gave Iarion the impression the Learnéd One suspected something.

“Is it really a good idea for us to stay put?” Hidar asked. “We are in open country here. What if they are circling above us to reveal our location to someone nearby?”

“As you say, we are in open country,” Lysandir said. “We will see anyone long before they approach. I wish to find out whether the gulls will move on if we stay put. Once they do, we will continue on our way, unwatched. I do not want to arrive on the doorstep of Dwarfwatch with an army on our heels.”

They waited. With their horses watered and now grazing, the group ate a brief meal. The gulls continued to wheel overhead. It was unnerving.

“Could you not just shoot one of them to scare them off?” Hidar demanded. “We are being held hostage by a flock of birds!” He looked to Iarion.

“I dare not draw even more attention to our location,” Iarion said. “And we still don’t know whether they were sent by friend or foe.”

“This is madness.” Hidar leaped to his feet and shook his fist at the gulls. “Leave us, stupid creatures!”

Iarion rose to calm him, but the gulls did one last circuit before flying off to the east.

Was their departure linked to Hidar’s outburst? There was no way to tell. Regardless, Iarion was relieved they could move on. They mounted and continued on their way, scouring the area for any sign of the gulls’ master as they rode.

They found nothing.

Iarion let out a relieved sigh as they reached the southernmost arm of the Mountains of Wind.

Then the Forsworn One flew overhead.

–
Chapter Twenty –

Chance Meetings

The Forsworn One was a dark blight in the clear blue sky. The horses bucked and reared. Linwyn was the first to dismount, having learned from her experience on the battlefield at Belierumar. The others followed her lead, taking hold of their horses’ bridles and speaking calming words. The Forsworn One seemed to be looking for something. To see such a dark creature aloft by day was a dangerous sign. It circled overhead, searching. They had not caught its attention.

Yet.

Silvaranwyn passed her reins to Iarion. She had already managed to calm her horse. The
Linadain
stood apart from the others and tilted her face upward, closing her eyes. No one dared ask what she was doing. They were all too busy with their own mounts. A frown of concentration creased Silvaranwyn’s face. Golaron was watching her, heedless of his panicked horse.

Silvaranwyn seemed to struggle with some invisible force. Beads of perspiration broke out on her furrowed brow. Her hands were balled into fists at her sides. Iarion could sense an internal battle being waged and cursed his helplessness.

Moments later, the Forsworn One’s drake veered to the east with a harsh cry, and flew out of sight. Silvaranwyn collapsed to the ground. Golaron was the first to her side. Everyone gasped as he helped her to her feet and she slowly raised her head. Her skin had lost its golden hue, having faded to the same bronze complexion as the twins. Her hair was scattered with dark strands. And her eyes… Her once golden eyes were now a bleached-looking silver.

Golaron grasped her by the shoulders, giving her a shake. She was limp in his arms. “What have you done?” The words came out in a horrified whisper.

“We would have been found.” Silvaranwyn’s voice was ragged. “I forced myself into the mind of the drake. It was almost too strong for me. But I could sense it was hungry and tired, so I enhanced those sensations until it disobeyed its rider to return to Nal Nungalid.”

“You should have let it find us!” Golaron snapped. “Lysandir has already dealt with two of the creatures, and the rest of us could have helped.”

“She was right to do as she did, Golaron,” Lysandir said. “If we had been forced into a confrontation with a Forsworn One up here in the northlands, so close to our enemy’s stronghold, it would have only drawn attention to our location. Our best defense lies in secrecy. And I already told you, the Forsworn cannot be killed. I only destroyed their mounts in Belierumar, a task that nearly killed me.”