The Darkling Tide (13 page)

“Don’t go farther back than where Daphne is,” Abagail said. “I think that’s where the protection of the ward ends.”

Abagail eased down the bedding and rolled her shoulders. Checking her short sword in its sheath, she moved back toward the entrance. Daniken peered outside and Leona sat against the wall.

Abagail joined Rorick back on the trail, peering back down where they’d come from.

“Any sign of the fire?” Abagail asked.

“No,” he said, shaking his head.

It was deep night now. Without the light of the moon scepter, they wouldn’t have been able to find their way. Abagail wasn’t sure what stage the moon was in, but it didn’t matter, the canopy in this part of the Fay Forest didn’t allow for light to break through.

She couldn’t see any glow along the path behind them, nor could she smell any fire.

“Maybe it stopped?” Abagail said.

“Maybe,” Rorick said. He didn’t sound hopeful.

Abagail heard noise in the front of the cave, and she turned back in time to see Daniken using her scepter to light a pile of the wood Rorick had been carrying.

“The wood is nearly gone,” Rorick told Abagail. “We need to get out of here soon. We won’t survive without fire.”

“You broach the topic this time,” Abagail told him.

Rorick smirked. “Right, we don’t want you two dissolving into a fight again. You would likely storm right off
into
the fire this time.”

Smiling, Abagail entered the cave again, going as far back as she could, which wasn’t far. She didn’t want to be close to Daniken just then, but she was cold and still needed the heat from the crackling fire the elf had just conjured.

“We are running low on supplies,” Rorick said.

Daniken nodded. “I know.”

“We only have enough wood for another night or two.”

Daniken nodded.

“When are we going to reach the harbingers?” Rorick pressed.

He was much harder with Daniken than Abagail thought he’d be.

“The path is . . . strange,” Daniken told him, looking out at the trail.

“Strange how?” Leona asked, setting the rabbits over the fire.

“It seems to be lengthening . . . somehow,” the elf said. “I don’t recognize this section.”

“So what do we do?” Rorick wondered. “We are still on the trail, right?”

“Yes, the trail is still protecting us, but I just don’t know this area. It feels like we are going into mountains,” Daniken said.

“Could something be altering the trail?” Abagail wondered.

“That’s the only thing I can think of,” Daniken told her, refusing to look back at her. Likely she sensed that Abagail wondered if what was changing the trail was Daniken.

“Alright, so, if this keeps up, we are going to have to find wood for fire,” Rorick said.

Daniken nodded.

“Is it safe to go off the trail enough to gather wood?” Rorick asked her.

“If you take someone with you,” Daniken said. “I would suggest I go along, Abagail’s plague would be more a hindrance than a help.”

“How so?” Abagail asked, barely keeping her tone civil.

“It would be more a beacon for the darklings than it would protection against them,” Daniken told her.

Abagail calmed down. That seemed plausible.

“But the mountains are far from where we need to be,” Daniken told them. “They are farther west than New Landanten and the harbingers.”

“That’s a problem,” Rorick said.

“Not the only problem,” Daniken said. “The mountains are home to the frost giants.”

Celeste alighted in a clearing. Behind her she felt the gathering light of Skye and Mari.

A storm had blown in at some point when they were traveling and the clearing had just been covered with a new wash of snow. The squall was still raining down heavily in the clearing, pelting the gathered light elves with snow, frosting their hair.

“All of the snow is fresh,” Mari said. “And you think the harbinger and her group came through here?”

“I know they did,” Celeste said. “This would be the defining moment. If they went right, they are headed to New Landanten and the harbingers. If they went left...”

“Frost giants,” Skye said.

Celeste pursed her lips. She didn’t want to think that Daniken would be leading them to the frost giants.

Mari stepped forward, her left hand stroking her sun scepter. The staff made a resonant hum, and wherever Mari pointed it, the fresh snowfall was blown back, as if by a gentle breeze. Underneath they could see signs of a camp: a campfire long cold, indentations where people had slept, discarded rabbit pelts.

“She’s feeding them animals from the forest!” Mari half growled the statement.

“Humans eat meat,” Celeste said. She didn’t like the idea of creatures from the Fay Forest being consumed either, but it wasn’t precisely incriminating. “And we’ve known for some time the dark elves consume flesh.”

“It’s just horrible,” Mari mumbled.

“Over here,” Skye said. He stood at the exit of the clearing into the right hand path. He slid his fingers against his sun scepter producing a haze of golden wyrd. Celeste went to him to watch his wyrded inspection. “See, right there, along the trees. What do you see?”

Celeste drew her scepter from her back and neared the edge of the trail. She also slipped her fingers against her scepter and watched as the golden light ebbed out. There, clinging to the tree like spider silk, was the telltale signs of moonlight.

“However, this
is
incriminating,” Celeste said.

“What’s that?” Skye asked her.

She shook her head. “She cast some kind of enchantment here.”

“Right, likely she was hiding this leg of the path,” Skye said.

Mari came up to them. “But you said they traveled with a pixie, wouldn’t she have noticed this?”

Celeste frowned. It was a general misconception that all fay could feel wyrd simply because they were fay.

“What would make the pixie sense the wyrd any more than the humans?” Celeste asked. “If she was looking for it, I’m sure she would. Daphne is young, she never lived in the Fay Forest, and she’s untrained in navigating the trail.”

Mari nodded.

“Didn’t you say they were being dogged by darklings?” Skye asked.

“I did,” Celeste said. She studied the trees and the forest floor, but there was no signs of darklings. “Maybe they are still near them. How old do you think this camp is?”

“A few days,” Mari said.

“Alright, we need to find them.” Celeste turned to the left hand path. “There is a couple hours of sunlight left. We can make some ground.”

The elves held their scepters close, wrapped their arms around the staves and drummed their fingers on the top. The light spread form the scepters, flared bright, and when it waned, the elves were gone, racing along the path as orbs of sunlight.

The light melted away and Celeste stumbled. It was never easy for her, coming out of the light after traveling. It was like her legs weren’t used to walking, and it took a moment to steady herself. She closed her eyes and let the dizziness pass before surveying her surroundings.

“A fire passed through here,” Skye said.

Celeste could see that. All around them the trees had been stripped of life, charred and twisted. There were still parts, deeper in the forest that smoked and cracked from heat. The snow had been melted away from the clearing leaving very little that they could read from the camp.

“Was it wyrded?” Mari asked.

Light rippled out of Skye’s scepter. “Not that I can tell.”

“Alright, at least she hasn’t gone
completely
crazy,” Mari said.

It was funny to Celeste that Mari graded crazy
not
by the notions the dark elves had about opening the scepters, but by their willingness to damage the forest.

“I would think she’s pretty well on her way,” Celeste said. “At this point we can wager that she’s kidnapped the harbinger and her group and is leading them directly into the Frozen North.” Celeste’s blue eyes pierced through the ravaged forest as if she could see the mountains she spoke of, and the giant’s lands beyond.

“But why lead them to the giants?” Mari asked. “Isn’t it the harbinger’s blood she needs to open the scepters?”

“Yes,” Skye said. “But she must have to wait until the harbinger has slipped enough to the darkling wyrd before she can take her blood.”

“Then she will gather it up, leave the group in giant territory, and bring the blood back to New Landanten to open more scepters.” Celeste wasn’t sure that’s what Daniken was doing, but it made the most sense. “Come on, they can’t be too far ahead of us now.

“We shouldn’t have left the cave,” Leona said, her voice weak, her breathing heavy. They were racing along the forest path, their meager supplies forgotten.

All Abagail could think was that her sister was right. In the cave she had felt safe, even though the back end of it had been outside of the trail, she still felt secure. Now that they’d left the cave, the darklings were back and so was the harp music.

The harp twanged loudly, and out in the forest, above the caws of the darkling birds they could hear uproarious laughter. It was small, almost thin. Abagail knew beyond a doubt that it belonged to the elle folk.

“I thought we killed them,” she muttered.

“No,” Daniken said. “Just sent them away. This time it sounds like they are inside the Fay Forest, and away from their lime tree grove. They have crossed over into Agaranth from their shadow world.”

“Hard to imagine there are some worlds worse off than this one,” Rorick said.

Everyone ignored him.

“So what’s the plan?” Abagail asked as they drew to a stop to rest. “We can’t keep running. We will have to face them eventually.”

“And when we do,” Daniken said. “We are going to need the wyrd of your plague to help.”

Abagail nodded.

“No,” Leona said. “We can’t do that.”

“What do you suggest, Leo?” Abagail asked. “That we bring down the warding and let the darkling birds and elle folk overwhelm us? You and Rorick won’t be able to do much, not with close range weapons. Wyrd is the only weapon that can reach them off the path.”