Venom and Song (10 page)

A different elder came forward for each of the young lords, calling them each by their Elven name and tribe. To Kat: “Alreenia, daughter of Beleg and Lord Kendie of the tribe Hiddenblade.” To Autumn: “Miarra, daughter of Lord Galadhost and Salura of the tribe Swiftstorm.” To Johnny: “Albriand, son of Elroth and Lord Tisa of the tribe Ashheart.” To Jimmy: “Thorwin, son of Lord Xanthis and Dreia of the tribe Valorbrand.” To Jett: “Hamandar, son of Lord Vex and Jasmira of the tribe Nightwing.” And to Kiri Lee: “Lothriel, daughter of Charad and Lord Simona of the tribe Oakenflower.” And to each lord the elders gave a medallion, roughly the same size and seemingly crafted out of the same materials as Tommy's. But their interior shapes were very different, each as unique and intricate as a fingerprint.

The high cleric and the other elders moved to their seats, and for several moments the young lords and the elders were still and silent, enveloped in the atmosphere.

Seated in the first row of stands, Elle Goldarrow did not want to weep openly, but the gravity of all that had led to the young lords' rescue and arrival in Allyra—the waiting, the planning, the fighting, and the loss of life—came upon her in a rush. And at last she allowed herself to mourn for Charlie. She put her head in her hands. Grimwarden drew her to lean on his shoulder. “It was a terrible price,” he said. “But it was worth it. Look at them, Elle. They have come, spanning time, from one world to another, to save us all.”

She looked upon the seven lords, and through her tears, she thought of how they had matured ever so slightly. There was about them the look of warriors. It was as if she saw into the future right then. Suddenly they were tall and broad-shouldered. Matured. Wisdom was upon their brows, mission in their eyes, and unmatched power in their fists. And they even bore the scars of battle, the price paid for war, even the ultimate sacrifice. For loss. And for victory. She knew it was just her mind playing tricks on her. Or was it? Whether as kids or adults, the Seven Elven Lords of Berinfell had returned.

“We are the Children of Light,” said Alwynn suddenly. “And upon this timeless occasion, we will dare to risk a little light.”

A frenzied murmur rose in the hall, spiraling upward. Elle refocused, and the teens sat on the thrones once more. Young. Naive.
Oh, Ellos, spare them,
she prayed. But she knew it was in vain.
Or at least be merciful
.

The high cleric signaled to a pair of flet soldiers near the northern entrance to the hall. They worked at a locking mechanism, releasing a thin chain, and then they began to pull.

Alwynn stood and strode to the metallic cone in the center of the hall. As he removed the cone, he said, “May Ellos bless us with a clear sky and an unhindered path through the forest canopy.” Beneath the cone was a large deposit of the same crystals used in the dremask braziers. But these were clearly crafted by the Elves' most gifted stonecutters. Ordinarily geometric, rigid, and sharp, these crystals were cut into the likeness of a lush flowering plant with seven star-shaped blossoms.

Alwynn returned to his seat. He and the other elders gazed upward.

The Elves stirred in their seats. Whispers filled the hall. And for many breathless moments nothing happened. In a repetitive cycle, Tommy looked from the crystal flowers to the elders to the roof of the hall and back again to the crystals.

Kat, also staring up, leaned over. “What do you—?” She never finished the question.

High above them all, a pinprick of light pierced the sea of murk in the hall's vast ceiling. A thrilled murmur grew from the Elves in the balconies. The excitement intensified as more and more Elves realized what was happening far above. The distant point of light became a beam, focused and narrow, traveling down through the dust. The noise level grew exponentially, but the Elves were not cheering or shouting. It was more like a spontaneous release of joy and wonder, like small children at their first fireworks display. Gasping. Giggling.

The ray of sunlight plunged down until it struck the sculpted crystal plant. In a split second, the single beam divided into seven. A thin ray of light blazed out of each of the crystal flowers and struck Tommy's, Kat's, Autumn's, and Kiri Lee's medallions. Taller than the others, Jett had to scoot down for the stream of light to hit his. By contrast, Johnny and Jimmy had to sit up a bit higher in their seats. Now the split rays of the sun struck each of the seven medallions, and for a few moments, each of the young lords seemed to have a captured star emblazoned upon his or her chest. Keeping their torsos still, the teens turned their heads this way and that, grinning and staring.

Alwynn, the elders, Goldarrow, Grimwarden, and the others smiled with deep satisfaction. A few of the oldest Elves had seen a similar ceremony before . . . but it was long ago when the Elves of Berinfell were still free to walk in the sun's light. In the underground, it was something more beautiful than they could have conceived.

Then there came a series of sharp gasps. The high cleric sat bolt upright in his chair. The sunlight blazing on the lords' medallions increased in intensity tenfold. Within the bursting brightness came sparkles of color. Suddenly needle-thin rays of light—deep sea blues, sunset reds and oranges, forest greens, amethyst purples, and sunflower yellows—fired out from each medallion and streamed in all directions. Crisscrossing strands of light filled Luminary Hall.

“Look!” Tommy exclaimed. “The light beams . . . they're hitting all the Elves . . . all of them!”

This the elders had not expected, and those assembled there had never seen anything like it. From the seven medallions, thousands of thin lines shot out in all directions, some striking the crystal flowers and reflecting toward the Elves seated behind the young lords. Every single Elf in the hall had a personal sunbeam blazing on his or her chest or face. Some laughed. Some wept. Some played with the light and ran their hands through it. Even the Elven children had streams of light.

“Alwynn, what does this mean?” asked Manaelkin Zoar, one of the elders.

Even Alwynn was unsure, but he answered, “It means Ellos smiles upon us.”

The light flickered; each and every colorful strand blinked. And then it was all gone. Although the flet soldiers had not shut out the light, something had above the surface. Alwynn motioned to the flet soldiers, who quickly returned the mechanism to its original position.

The ceremony ended, and Elle Goldarrow and several of the other Sentinels led the young lords out of the hall, leaving the audience to their thoughts concerning the lords. From there, the Seven split up and made their way to their quarters.

“Go right to sleep,” Goldarrow said to Tommy. “Tomorrow is the council, and many things must be decided.”

“Things concerning us?”

Goldarrow put a kind hand on Tommy's shoulder. “Now that you have returned to Allyra, everything concerns you.”

5
The High Council

THE SEVEN Lords waited at a large round table in the center of a well-lit chamber not far from Luminary Hall. Grimwarden was there, as were Goldarrow, the Sentinels, and Dreadnaughts who had survived the adventure on Earth, and a few other military leaders Tommy did not recognize. Surprisingly, even a few Gwar were in attendance. The Seven were taken aback at first, shocked that such villains would be allowed into the Chamber of Allegiance, let alone in Nightwish.

“Not all Gwar are evil,” Goldarrow whispered to Tommy, seeing him wide-eyed. “Just as all Elves are not good.”

He turned to look at her, brow wrinkled. “Really?”

“I expect it's no different on Earth,” came a gruff voice from behind.

“Whoa!” said Kat, spinning around with the rest of the Seven. “You startled me—” She froze.

“Fulmooth Blandlard,” said the Gwar. “Guard of the Aquifers, as of late.” He extended a burly hand in greeting.

Kat looked to Goldarrow. A nod. “Pleased to meet you,” Kat said as she tentatively grasped only one of his massive fingers. The Gwar did not smile; neither did he seem pleased at their meeting.
Great,
she thought.
Now I've offended him
. Fulmooth bowed his head in deference to the rest of the lords, then took his place among those who waited.

The uncomfortable encounter passed, and soon the room grew very silent. An ornate crystal chandelier, lit presumably by dozens of dremask flames, hung above the table. Tommy watched the flames dance and wondered just who exactly they were waiting for. He counted the empty chairs. There were seven.
Oh,
he thought.
The elders
.

As if on cue, the seven elders entered the chamber in a single line. They sat in the remaining seven seats. Jimmy leaned over to Jett and said, “Did yu notice . . . the high cleric didn' take the center seat.”

“Yeah,” said Jett. “Saw that. He didn't lead them in, either.”

The elder in the center banged a gavel on the table. “I am Manaelkin Zoar, chief of elders and presider of this council,” said the center elder.

“Oh,” Jimmy and Jett muttered.

The chief elder lowered his hood, letting thin gray hair spill out on his shoulders. He looked to the seven young lords. “I apologize that we didn't have a more complete introduction last night,” he said, tapping his chest with long, narrow fingers. “It was . . . a special evening. In fact”—he wiped the corner of his eye—“this is the first time we've convened the full council in eight hundred years.”

Alwynn Belkirith nodded. “Every moment since the Seven have returned feels like a new blessing.”

“Indeed,” said Manaelkin. “For the benefit of the new lords, I'd like to start with an introduction. I am the senior member of the council, a dubious honor, since that means I am also the oldest Elf in the room.” He paused for a smattering of soft laughs. “Nearly two thousand years of life—trial and much error—in Allyra has taught me a great deal. My wisdom, such as it is, I lend to this council. But I do not make the decisions. I am one voice among the many. That is all.”

Manaelkin paused to let the assembly—especially the lords— ponder his words. Then with a sweeping gesture across the table he said, “Let us begin. Flet Marshall Brynn, you have news of the Spider King's movements?”

Brynn stood and crossed her wrists over her chest. Her wavy red locks bounced, and there was a gleam in her eye, but she was all business. “The Spider King's search parties continue in all parts of Allyra. We've spotted them as far west as Trulldore and as far north as the Hemlock Palisades. They are most numerous in the Thousand-League Forest of course, but they are wary and slow.”

“They would expect us to create a stronghold among the trees,” said Goldarrow for the benefit of the Seven.

“It has not yet entered his mind that we would stay below ground,” said Grimwarden.

Kiri Lee raised her hand. Everyone stared at her curiously.

“I believe Lothriel has a question,” said Miss Finney. “You're not in class anymore, Kiri Lee. You may speak freely here.”

“Oh,” she said, blushing. “Um . . . okay. I was wondering why wouldn't the Spider King expect the Elves—expect us, that is—to stay underground? Seems like a good place to hide.”

The high cleric looked up sharply. Audience voices began talking. “Has no one told them?” he asked.

“There has never been a need,” said Goldarrow, looking at Manaelkin. More murmuring. “On Earth, aboveground, there was no danger.”

“Order!” Manaelkin rapped with his gavel until all was silent.

“I see.” Alwynn nodded gravely. “Here, the danger is ever present. They must know.”

Goldarrow stood and addressed the Seven. “Lords, you've heard us call our race ‘Children of the Sun' or ‘Children of Light'? These are not metaphors as one might think. Rather, there is an important reason for this.” She paused. “Elves cannot live without sunlight.”

“Whoa,” said Jett. “You mean we'll die in the dark?”

“Only if you've had absolutely no sunlight for more than three days,” said Goldarrow. “Even under cloud cover, you will still get enough of the sun through the clouds. On Earth, you knew this subconsciously. There were times when inexplicably you felt ill or weak. You probably felt drawn to go outside or at least to windows.”

“Aye!” said Jimmy. “That's true. I canna' tell yu how many times in Ardfern, with the typical gloom, I felt . . . well . . . out of sorts.”

“No wonder I like the beach so much,” said Kat. “I always felt better there.”

“That's right,” said Goldarrow.

“But what happens now?” Johnny asked. “I mean, do we all go back to that hall and crank up the crystal?”

“No,” Manaelkin replied. “We keep the opening above Luminary Hall sealed, except for special occasions. It is too risky to have anything for the Spider King's troops to discover so close to our main fortifications.”

“How do we get sun, then?” asked Autumn. “It might help me heal faster.”

“It would,” said Grimwarden. “Just wait. You'll see.”

“In the time we've been underground,” Goldarrow continued, “we have increased our network of tunnels one-hundred fold. In various places beneath the Thousand-League Forest, we have constructed outcroppings and small clearings where the sunlight falls regularly. All Elves in our underground homeland have a scheduled time to sun themselves. We never use the same place twice in the same week, never for more than a few hours at a time, and never without a strong military escort nearby just in case.”

An awkward silence descended. The young lords exchanged glances. Until the events of the past year, Tommy hadn't spent much time thinking about death. Then, with the attacks of the Drefids in Maryland, the fierce battles in Scotland, and the ambush in the Dark Veil, death had become a constant threat. One wrong step, one missed detail—it would all be over. But now . . . now there was another reason for fear. The lack of sunlight. Such a simple thing, really.
Not much different from water,
Tommy told himself.
Can't survive without water for more than a few days, right?
And yet, this was different. Every moment they spent underground, a clock was ticking. They can't bottle sunlight. It was then Tommy truly began to question if he should have come to Allyra at all. He knew it was a big deal, this whole
Lord of the Elves
thing and all, but he had no idea just how big. And that it might cost him his life? Well . . . maybe that was more than he could chew.