Venom and Song (12 page)

She heard Manaelkin.
“Ridiculous. We shouldn't even be having” . . .

But then, then a strange stream of thoughts pushed momentarily through the others.

. . . “journey to Whitehall” . . .

. . . “fortunate turn” . . .

. . . “must not be seen” . . .

. . . “slaughter” . . .

Kat sat bolt upright and scanned the room.
Slaughter? Who?
Her gaze fell in turn upon every Elf in the room, but she didn't recognize the voice. And no facial expressions revealed anything she could connect to those thoughts. Something about the Seven Lords going to Whitehall . . . had to be, but Kat didn't know what the last couple of thoughts meant. They might have meant nothing at all, just random words. Maybe even from several different Elves. No, not unless several Elves sounded alike. That handful of phrases had been uttered in one voice.

“You okay?” asked Tommy.

“Yeah, yeah,” she replied. “Fine . . . I thought I heard something a little strange.”

“Like what?”

“Ah, it was nothing,” she said, still wondering. “I really need to learn to focus better.”
Duh,
she thought.
Maybe the voice wasn't an elder at all
. She looked at the Sentinels, who, for the most part, were silent. Intense, but silent. Kat felt an odd weight on her left shoulder and whipped around. Mr. Wallace was staring hard, seemingly at Goldarrow.
But . . . was he staring at me?

“Ignite the Flame of Conviction,” Manaelkin instructed.

Each of the Elves with voting privileges put up a previously unnoticed metal screen, hiding the candles from others' view. Once these were in place, the Elves began to vote.

“Ah, this is going to drive me crazy,” said Tommy.

“Uh-huh,” said Kat, but she wasn't really paying attention to her friend or to the vote. Her mind was so intensely focused on trying to single out that one thought-voice again that she couldn't really attend to anything else.

Jett leaned over to Jimmy. “What's going to ha—?”

“I'm not tellin' yu,” he replied quickly. “Those screens are there for a reason, yu know.”

“That's just cold, Jimmy,” Jett complained.

Seconds felt like hours as votes were cast. Finally, when all the Elves had looked up and given Manaelkin nonverbal assent, the council leader said, “Reveal your conviction.”

Screens fell one by one. A blue candle lit. A purple candle lit. Another blue. From his vantage, Tommy couldn't see all of the candles. Perhaps no one could except Manaelkin. Tommy thought that maybe it was designed that way. From what Tommy could see, the vote seemed very even . . . surprisingly even. The other lords gazed around the room as well. But Tommy saw Autumn close her eyes and bow her head.
What does that mean?

Manaelkin's gaze seemingly followed the candles around the room, and at first, he began to smile.

“Oh no,” Tommy whispered.

But then his expression hardened. Manaelkin hammered down his gavel and announced, “By three votes . . . the Lords of Berinfell will travel to Whitehall. There they will train and learn the art of Vexbane under the tutelage of Guardmaster Grimwarden for a period of no more than seven months. Your convictions have spoken. Let it now be done.” He slammed down his gavel once more.

Polite cheers rang out. Goldarrow clapped Grimwarden on the shoulder. Most of the other lords surrounded Autumn in a group hug. Only Kat hung back. She was relieved they could train longer, but her enthusiasm was drained by the voice she had heard.
Slaughter
.
What did that mean?

Grimwarden stood before the council in the final hour of the meeting, recapping the plans they had all drafted years earlier of an attack on Vesper Crag, anticipating the eventual return of the Seven. The meeting room had thinned somewhat, leaving only the lords, the most senior Sentinels, military leaders, and members of the council. While the young lords still required training, a full-fledged siege was still at the forefront of everyone's mind and needed to be addressed. “As you all are well aware, we've a sound plan for the initial attack and a prolonged blockade. However, I fear that what we really need the most is something we can no longer obtain.” Grimwarden searched his memory, recalling his many conversations with Sarron Froth. Without the defecting Drefid's help, the portals would have remained a mystery to the Elves . . . the Seven would have never been found. But Froth had additional secrets, and the revelations of his most recent and final project might have proved invaluable . . . had Grimwarden only pushed the Drefid harder. He scolded himself now.

“Do not punish yourself further,” Goldarrow spoke up. “What's past is past. We cannot change it.”

Tommy leaned over to Kat. “What are they talking about?” he whispered.

Kat scrunched her face. “Something about . . . a map.”

“Not just any map,” Grimwarden said, startling them both. “
The
map of Vesper Crag.” And with those words he withdrew a long cloth parchment from his belt. He laid it out on the table. The Seven all leaned in to take a closer look. The map showed a definite outline of a region, but only one corner of the map was filled in. Paths, symbols, codes—all sketched in rich black ink—no one but a master cartographer could have worked such fine detail and craftsmanship.

The Seven studied the parchment, each trying to understand the markings. Then Johnny and Autumn blurted out as one, “We know that map!”

All eyes went to the pair. Grimwarden's face changed in an instant to a mask of disbelief and . . . hope. “You know this map?”

Autumn looked to Johnny. “It's in our house,” he said.

“Under my bed!” added Autumn.

“Impossible,” Goldarrow said. “No one on Earth would have such a map as this.”

“We found it in our backyard,” said Johnny. “. . . In a field behind our house. Autumn picked it up.”

“When we found the cave, with the book, and the weird wall,” Autumn rambled.

“Weird wall?” Grimwarden begged.

“The book Nelly gave us”—Johnny looked at the map—“had a picture in the front that resembled a cave on our neighbor's land, Mr. Rizzo. So we went there and found the weirdest thing.”

“Half a footprint,” said Autumn. “Like a solid stone wall had cut it in half . . . like a person—”

“Had walked right through,” finished Grimwarden.

Johnny smacked himself in the head with the palm of his hand. “It was a portal!”

“Yes, a portal!” said Nelly. “I told you that before, but you said nothing of finding a map.”

“We didn't know,” said Johnny. “Is it important?”

“Is it—?” Grimwarden half chuckled, half sighed. “Vital, but that's only if it is a map of Vesper Crag.”

“Yes,” said Manaelkin skeptically. “There are many maps that show many things.”

“No,” said Johnny. “I know that this is right. See, I thought the outline here and here was shaped like Sam when he lays down on the back porch.”

“Sam?” Manaelkin inquired, his fiery eyebrows raised.

“Our dog,” said Autumn.

“A dog is like a wolf,” said Nelly, clarifying the strange word for the group.

Johnny frowned and went back to the map. “Yeah, but it's the same shape here . . . and here. Just like Sam's ears. And . . . up here, there should be a tower . . . or a platform or something.”

Grimwarden was stunned. “That's right! That would be the Black Balcony near the pinnacle of the mountain. You could only know that if it was on your map. You . . . you found this in your . . . what did you call it? Back card?”

“Our backyard,” corrected Autumn.

“Let me be sure I have understood you,” Alwynn said, seemingly fighting back a grin. “You have the rest of this map secured back in your home on Earth?”

“Yeah,” said Johnny.

“You're certain?”

“Absolutely!” replied Autumn. “I hid it myself. No one would ever find it.”

Tommy raised his hand. “Excuse me. But why all the fuss about this map? I mean, I think I have a better idea here, one we're not thinking of.”

“Go on, Lord Felheart,” motioned Grimwarden to Tommy.

“If we're going to talk about bringing things back from Earth, we have weapons the Spider King could never dream of! Rifles, pistols! I'm sure some of the Dreadnaughts could help me find some machine guns on the black market.”

“Black market, Tommy?” asked Kat doubtfully.

“Okay. Maybe online. You know, eBay. We could totally blast—”

“Lord Felheart,” Grimwarden cut him off. “These weapons you speak of . . . are they made of metal?”

“Yeah, of course.”

He smiled. “While they might be worthy additions to our arsenal, we could never bring them back.”

“Some sort of time-space continuum issue?” proposed Tommy.

“Uh-no, Lord Felheart. Nothing inorganic, especially metals, can come through the portals. Conducting electrical currents in the gateways is not a good idea.”

“Oh.” Tommy's eyes lit up. “Kind of like putting a fork in the microwave. I did that once.” The Elves didn't understand. In the awkward silence, Tommy leaned over to Kat and whispered, “I'd hate to be the Elf who first discovered
that
scientific fact.
Zzzap!
” Kat dipped her head and giggled.

Alwynn looked to Johnny and Autumn. “If this map is as you say, Lord Albriand, Lord Miarra, then we have no choice but to at least attempt a retrieval.”

Everyone grew very quiet, looking one to another. Finally Johnny spoke up. “I'll go.”

“Whoa!” Tommy exclaimed. “Johnny, there are soldiers there. You heard Flet Marshall Brynn. Lots of soldiers.”

“Tommy's right,” said Nelly. “But not just because of the soldiers. You, my young lord, need to train. I know the way to your home. I will go.”

“With your leave,” said Regis to Grimwarden, “I will go, too.”

“What about the enemy?” asked Jimmy. “Yu could be takin' a great risk.”

“An entire war host is a great risk,” Regis admitted. “But, Jimmy, that map isn't just a general diagram like a street map of Glasgow. A map of Vesper Crag will show us the weak points in the Spider King's walls, the locations of his defensive war machines, armories, spider nurseries, and”—she paused, collecting her thoughts—“the slave camps.”

“Slave camps?” asked Kiri Lee.

“Where he takes the people he's abducted from Earth to work, building his war machine. Some are taken as kids, so they are able to learn the trades of war and become more efficient when they grow up.”

Tommy finally broke the silence. “We have to save them.”

“Agreed,” said Grimwarden.

“Without the map—,” Manaelkin began.

“It would be impossible,” finished Grimwarden.

“Still,” said Goldarrow. “There's no guarantee Nelly and Regis will get through. Should we not send a battalion of flet soldiers and a rank of archers . . . storm the portal?”

Manaelkin shook his head. “You speak my mind as well, Goldarrow,” he said. “I am a firm believer in overwhelming force. In this instance, however, stealth is our best hope. A frontal attack will only draw out the Spider King's interest. . . . He might even close the portal altogether.”

“You will go blindly through the portal,” said Grimwarden. “We do not know where on Earth you will appear. There's even a small chance that the Spider King has found another world to occupy. It could all be for naught. Nelly, Regis, are you certain you want to volunteer for this task?”

“I am certain,” said Nelly.

Jimmy eyed Regis.
Please don't go
. The only one who heard his thoughts, of course, was Kat.

“As am I,” said Regis.

Grimwarden raised his chin and nodded. “Very well. It does present its own set of difficulties, however.”

Tommy waved his hands about. “You mean, besides sneaking through an entire war host set on killing them and having no idea where the portal spits them out?”

“Yes, Tommy,” said Grimwarden, “besides those.”

“Like what?” Tommy asked.

“Time.” All eyes turned to Alwynn. “If Nelly and Regis are gone for but only one hour on Earth, that is almost three days for us here. Depending on where that portal ‘spits them out,' as you say, it could be weeks for us. Maybe even months.”

“Still, it is a risk we have to take,” said Nelly.

Goldarrow sighed. “But it means—”

“We'll have to leave immediately,” said Regis.

“Agreed,” said Alwynn.

Grimwarden hesitated. He looked at the Seven. “Agreed.” He stood up straight. “We base as much of our planning as possible around having that map in hand.”

“And if it doesn't come back?” Manaelkin asked.

Grimwarden said curtly, “Then we will remain in hiding until it does.”