The Darkling Tide (9 page)

“I think Garth is getting weak and mindless,” Celeste said once they were all arranged on cushions. “He’s given way to the dark elves far too much lately, and though he says they will look for an alternative to harbinger blood, I don’t think he will.”

“What do you think will happen?” Skye asked her.

Mari picked up a carafe of wine and poured three mugs, listening intently to the conversation. She handed one to each of her guests. It was customary for the host to offer wine, and it was rude for the guests to refuse.

Celeste didn’t care for wine, so she tossed her drink back quickly to get it over with. Mari knew how she felt about the drink, so she always poured her less than was normal. Skye was far too fond of his wine, and so he was more than eager to accept the portion Celeste didn’t.

“I think the dark elves are taking over New Landanten,” Celeste said around the burn creeping up her throat. “I think Garth is too weak and needs to pass on.”

Skye looked at her sharply.

“I’m sorry, it’s the truth. We can’t elect a new high chieftain until the old one gives himself to the light, and it’s obvious that Garth feels doing that now would leave us in a bad spot against the darklings,” Celeste said.

“So out of trying to save us, he’s inadvertently putting all the worlds in danger,” Mari echoed. She toyed with the stem of her wine glass.

“And I know the guard is in charge of keeping the high chieftains safe, so I hope you know I’m not planning anything untoward,” Celeste told Skye.

He nodded and took a drink of wine.

“But I feel it’s the truth, he is getting old. Normally elves have already given themselves to the light far before his age, but he’s holding on.” Celeste sighed. “If he thinks he’s doing us a favor, he’s wrong.”

“So, do you think there’s any other way of opening the scepters?” Skye asked Mari.

“No,” Mari said. “If there were, they would have figured it out by now.”

“I agree,” Celeste said.

There was silence for a time as they all reflected on what this meant for the elves.

“Daniken wasn’t there today,” Skye said.

“I noticed,” Celeste told him. “I’m curious where she might be.”

“Probably hunting down some harbinger,” Mari scoffed.

“Oh, dear All Father, how could I be so blind!” Celeste shot to her feet, fueled by the revelation Mari imparted on her.

“What?” Skye asked, standing in confusion.

“There’s a new harbinger here, remember, she was the one I was helping through the Fay Forest,” Celeste said, stepping into her boots.

“And you think she went after her?” Skye asked, putting his boots on as well.

“I’m almost certain of it.”

Leona couldn’t sleep. Worried that the elle folk would return, she tossed and turned well past Abagail’s watch and into Daniken’s.

The elf sat near to Leona, the moon scepter across her lap, staring off into the forest around them. The fire flickered weakly, casting tall shadows across the snow of the clearing. The light played off Daniken’s skin, shimmering silvery light into the darkened air.

“Can’t sleep?” Daniken asked. Though she spoke softly, it was enough to make Leona jump.

“No,” she answered.

Daniken patted the ground beside her, and Leona sat up in her bed. It wasn’t far to move, and Leona took her blankets with her, setting down beside the elf. Just being around Daniken made her feel safer.

“Do you know where the scepters come from?” Daniken asked Leona after a time of silence where Leona nearly fell back asleep.

“From the sun and the moon,” Leona answered.

“That’s partially right,” Daniken said, handing the scepter to Leona.

Leona just looked at it.

“It’s ok. It’s not bound to me. You can hold it, maybe even use it,” Daniken encouraged her.

“Celeste said only the guardians of light could use them,” Leona said.

“Maybe,” Daniken said, and shrugged. “It’s never been tested, but I do know that if an elf has died, their scepter can be awarded to another elf.”

Leona held out her hand and tentatively took the scepter. She felt the cool wyrd within the crystalline staff. Where she would have thought the scepter was fragile, she was wrong. It seemed very resilient.

“Now, the scepters come from Hafaress and Vilda.”

“The All Father’s children?” Leona asked, forgetting, for a time, the power of the scepter that seemed to draw at her own energy.

“Yes, the God of the Sun, and the Goddess of the Moon,” Daniken nodded.

“How is it that the darklings can thrive in moonlight?” Leona asked.

“They don’t so much thrive as they just aren’t harmed as much by it. The sleeping eye is passive, Vilda is charged with knowledge and all things to do with intellect and emotion, she isn’t charged with the protection of the nine worlds. Hafaress, on the other hand, is the guardian of the nine worlds, he is the Waking Eye, and the baneful fires that come to claim the shadow.”

“Oh,” Leona said. “That makes sense.”

“Do you want to learn how to use it?” Daniken asked her.

“Can I?” Leona asked.

“I’m not sure, but if you
can
, maybe we can get you one of your own,” Daniken said. She gave Leona a winning smile.

“Alright,” Leona said.

“It would make a great weapon for you,” Daniken answered. “Better than that knife.”

Leona didn’t answer. Abagail had said the knife suited her.

“Alright, so, all you have to do is focus your thoughts,” Daniken told her. “Come, follow me.” The elf stood, and quietly led her away from the camp and toward the edge of Singer’s Trail. Leona followed, careful not to bang the staff on anything.

“Don’t worry, it won’t break,” Daniken told her. “Now, point it at that wolf, there.” The elf took a position behind Leona and helped aim the scepter. The wolf seemed smaller than all the others, and he wasn’t as vocal about his hunger at seeing them. He milled around a little, but seemed rather calm.

He looked so much like the shadow of a puppy that Leona fidgeted and tried to aim at a different darkling, one that was much more aggressive and snapping at the boundary, trying to get at them.

“Don’t worry about him, he’s a darkling, he is already dead,” Daniken said. “Now, focus your thought, imagine the light of the moon coming to do your bidding. Feel the wyrd within the scepter building up, wakening to your touch.”

Leona did as she was told, it was easy to call upon the power of the scepter, but as it woke up, it struggled in her grasp. She could feel the wyrd of the scepter attach to her, but when she thought it would flood her body with energy, instead it started drawing her energy into its depths.

Her vision wavered and somehow split in two. There was an image of the Fay Forest before her, and then another, an immense plane of silver light.

“This is normal at first, but command it. Be firm. Don’t let the light win,” Daniken told her. “Think of all you stand to lose.”

Leona thought of Abagail, and the struggle she was facing. If her sister could be infected with the plague and face the darkness that might come for her, and struggle to remain good, Leona could fight this.

The scepter pulled her further in and the vision of the Fey Forest wavered, and more of the silver light crept in on her awareness.

She wasn’t weak. She was a Bauer. She was strong. This light couldn’t have her. She pulled back on it, and with a savage twist of her mind, she pulled her energy away from the scepter.

As if by some subconscious command, Leona drummed her finger against the scepter with a clang. Silver light, nearly white, burst from the tip of the scepter. A deep resonant tone accompanied it, a sound that Leona felt echoed within her body.

The beam of light connected with the wolf, and it burst into a cloud of dust.

“You did it!” Daniken said, shaking Leona’s shoulders. The elf seemed genuinely happy, and the sentiment chased the power of the leaching scepter back into the depths of the weapon.

A rush of air left Leona’s mouth, and she smiled. “I did it,” she whispered.

“Good job, oh, you are going to be so good at this!” Daniken told her. “Now, we just need to find you a scepter.”

The still lake spread out before them nearly as far as Abagail could see. It existed both on and off the trail. She wasn’t sure if that meant anything outside the trail could slip into the confines of the trail or not.

A haze of fog lay over the lake, and the snow didn’t seem to touch its surface. It was a deep green and spoke to Abagail of dead things. An overgrown land bridge divided the lake and traveled from their shore to the next.

Abagail shivered.

“I don’t remember a lake being here,” Daniken said, her perfectly shaped brows furrowing.

“Is this part of Singer’s Trail?” Leona asked. “There’s a thin part that goes around it. Is that also Singer’s Trail?”

Daniken seemed to be thinking. “I’m not really sure to be honest.”

“Well, here’s the thing, if we go around it there’s a chance that isn’t Singer’s Trail over there. If we cross it, there could be any number of darkling in there.” Rorick pointed at the haunting lake.

“Daphne is flying around it,” Abagail said, pointing to the left of the lake where the pixie was meandering through the air, her purple glow dimming with her increased distance from them. “And besides, how would darklings get into this lake from the woods?”

“There’s a point there,” Daniken said. “And I would tend to agree with you if it wasn’t for the fact that once already you’ve reported a darkling on the trail, and we almost had those elle folk break through the warding as well.”

“But this lake seems like it’s been here for a while,” Abagail argued.

“You can’t honestly be thinking of crossing it, can you?” Leona asked.

Abagail looked down at her afflicted palm. “I don’t feel anything coming from the lake,” she reported. “If that makes any difference. But sometimes it’s hit or miss.”

Daniken nodded and stepped forward. She struck her finger against the moon scepter and a ripple of music and light shimmered from the depths. With her other hand she directed the light out across the lake. It skirted over the water, mingling with the fog to glow eerily off the green surface of the lake.

Nothing moved.

“Well, that’s encouraging,” Rorick said. “We should all be prepared for something anyway.” He unlatched his hammer.

Abagail drew her sword and tried to ignore Leona rolling her eyes as she pulled the kitchen knife from her boot.

No one moved. Daniken looked like she was about to be sick, and Rorick acted like he was building up his courage. For all of their bravado at wanting to eradicate the darklings, both of them seemed to turn into children jumping at shadows when faced with uncertainty.

Abagail rolled her eyes and stepped out onto the first moss covered rock of the land bridge. She spun the sword in her hand nervously and took a deep breath. She pressed on, and soon she was joined by Leona. The rocks were slick under her feet. At random intervals there was some kind of give to the stones. Maybe they weren’t stones at all.

Maybe logs?
Maybe someone had made this bridge and time and weather had taken its toll on them.
But where are the railings?