Venom and Song (36 page)

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Authors: Wayne Thomas Batson

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BOOK: Venom and Song
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Autumn felt the forest passing by her in slow motion, picking her course as easily as a child skipping through a park. But she knew in reality her body was traveling at unimaginable speed, seen only as a blur by any forest animals that saw her. Her feet never stumbled once, clearing rocks, running along downed trees, and bounding over shrubs. She followed the river all the way back to where it wound around the base of a slowly rising hill, the one upon which Whitehall sat. And it was then she came to an abrupt halt.

Towering high above her was a thick plume of black smoke, rising like a damp chimney fire from a white stone woodstove . . . Whitehall!

Autumn covered her mouth with her hand, gasping. “It can't be,” she whispered. Something moved in the woods behind her. She spun around. A Gwar was traipsing through the underbrush. The warrior had not yet taken notice of her, so Autumn darted to her left, hiding among a stand of oaks. The Gwar continued to lumber through the wood, obviously not concerned with stealth. Autumn connected the fire above with the scouting Gwar in the same time it took her to race up the hillside and stop just beside a giant boulder not one hundred yards from the main gate.

The drawbridge was nowhere to be seen; only a blackened, yawning hole remained in the ditch that separated the main path from the fortress's entrance. But more surprising was the sight that filled the entrance: hundreds of Gwar soldiers, and even more Warspiders. They milled about aimlessly, dismantling the main courtyard and heaving stones from the upper ramparts above.

“They're bored,” Autumn said to herself. She watched them, each disconnected, unconcerned. Whatever had happened here, it was long over.

She heard Tommy's warning in her head, but it hadn't even been close to ten minutes. Two; three at best. . . . Autumn zipped out from behind the boulder and ran to a short hedgerow about fifty yards up. She needed a closer look. And that's exactly what she got. As she crawled on her hands and knees to the end of the brush, she peered around the corner hoping to see farther into the fortress's main entrance; but just twelve inches in front of her was the corpse of a flet soldier, extremities blackened by fire, face marred.

She screamed, scrambling backward.

A dozen Gwar heard the noise and spun around, instantly engaged.

Autumn looked up, heard shouting.

“Time to go.”

And when the group of investigating Gwar got to where the noise had come from, Autumn was long gone.

“It's bad.” Autumn pulled her windswept hair back into a ponytail.

The others stood. “How bad?” asked Tommy.

“Whitehall has been invaded.”

“I knew it!” shouted Johnny. “Manaelkin is evil!”

Autumn shook her head. “It wasn't Manaelkin.” The others looked on. “Not unless he has a new fascination with Warspiders.”

Tommy was stunned. “The Spider King?”

“What?” they gasped.

“But how?” asked Kat.

“I don't know. B-but I did see”—she shuddered—“bodies. Elven bodies. Everywhere. I think the elders arrived, just as Alwynn said. But they were surprised. In any case, the place is crawling with Gwar and Warspiders. They've let anything that could burn, and are now destroying whatever they can with their hands.”

“I can't believe it's all gone,” said Kiri Lee. “Just like that.”

“It was a good home for us,” Tommy nodded. “But it is not why we're here.”

“Agreed,” said Jett. “We have a job to do.”

Tommy looked to Autumn. “Any sign of—” But her solemn look and a gentle shake of her head cut him short. No one said anything for a whole minute, each pondering the fate of their teachers. A heavy weight fell on their shoulders, the air becoming hard to breathe. Surely Grimwarden and Goldarrow had escaped. They would have found a way. Wouldn't they? But if the attack truly had been a surprise, perhaps there was no way.

Kiri Lee looked to their leader. “So what do we do, Tommy?”

Tommy looked to Jett. “Jett's right. We have a job to do, and we've got to find that Keystone. If Grimwarden were here, he'd want us to find it. Without it, we are not equipped. And that's what he is”—he corrected himself—“
was
all about.”

“Yeah, but where do we even start?” Johnny asked. “I mean, it could be anywhere.” The others nodded in agreement. The task did seem overwhelming at best.

Tommy thought for a moment. “Grimwarden didn't send us three days north for nothing. He must have known there was something up here. Something that might help us. So”—he looked north along the river—“I say that whatever
that
is, we look for it.”

“A wild-goose chase, then,” said Autumn.

“Except we know our goose is a Keystone,” corrected Tommy. “So that's at least
something
.”

“I'm still not too sure about this,” said Kiri Lee. Johnny also nodded. “I mean, what if Grimwarden is on his way here now? He said to wait for him after following the Spine-thingy for three days. Shouldn't we give him time?”

Tommy shook his head. “That plan was made under the assumption it would only be Manaelkin and some flet soldiers. I fear that everything has changed now. Most likely, Grimwarden is—”

Kat reached up and put a hand on his mouth. “Don't say it.” She suddenly realized how forward the gesture was and pulled her hand away, blushing slightly. “Sorry.”

Tommy continued. “I was just saying that every moment we waste thinking about
what
-
ifs
is a moment we waste going after the Keystone. And if anyone would know how to find us in the Thousand-League Forest, it's Grimwarden and Goldarrow.”

Tommy walked around in a circle, collecting his thoughts. They all waited, knowing he was working on something. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves overhead, and a few birds called out from their roosts. When Tommy finally addressed the other lords again, he had a marked air about him . . . a new boldness in his speech. Something was changing in him. In them all.

“We move on. We have been trained for this, and now is our time to step into the light. We were born for greatness, and have miraculously been brought here, to another world, to do one thing: save its people. Our people. We are no longer followers. We're the leaders now. And what happens next rests on
our
shoulders.
Ours
. I don't like that feeling any more than you do, but it's just the way it is. And for whatever reason, I have to believe Ellos's hand is in this. He will not give us anything we can't handle. He's with us. Always.”

While no one had ever heard Tommy talk quite like this, they all believed him. Believed he was right. That he knew what he was talking about. And while his clarity of conclusion did seem a bit lofty, they would have been lying if they said they didn't feel the same thing. They
were
born for this. And they had a choice to make. Here. Now.

“Are you with me?” Tommy asked, putting his hand out, palm down.

The others looked to each other, knowing they were about to take matters into their own hands . . . matters of Berinfell . . . of tens of thousands of their Elven kindred, as well as the human slaves in the catacombs of Vesper Crag . . . of the fate of their very existence . . . of living and dying.

“I'm in,” said Jimmy, placing his hand on top of Tommy's.

“As am I,” said Jett, stepping forward.

“Me, too,” Kat smiled.

“Me five,” said Autumn with a wink.


Moi, aussi
.” Kiri Lee placed her hand on top of the growing pile. She got a few funny looks. “It's French. Me, too. What?”

The last hand was Johnny's. “Count me in.”

“Endurance and Victory!” Tommy proclaimed.

“ENDURANCE AND VICTORY!” the others shouted, pumping their hands as one and then throwing them in the air.

“We go north,” said Tommy. “Then northeast along the Spine.”

“Until?” asked Kat.

“Until we find something.”

“Or get found,” said Jimmy. And they all turned and looked at him.

Elle's emotions swung between fits of weeping and surges of aggression. One moment she was mourning for Grimwarden, whom she was quite certain had not survived—nor had Alwynn—the next she was bent on finding the Seven and storming the Spider King's lair personally. She had run by torchlight through the underground tunnel leading from Whitehall, only to emerge into broad daylight, eyes bloodshot, gasping for air. The reality was that she was more exhausted from anguish and desperation than she was from sprinting.

Yet as much as she knew she loved Grimwarden, it was the mission that mattered more. Should the Seven fail, all hope of life beyond these next few days and weeks seemed pointless. The Spider King would regroup and assault Nightwish again. She knew it was only a matter of time. And without the Seven, without this Rainsong, there was no hope. Her secret love would remain so forever, locked in her heart, bound in her grave.

No, she must find the Seven. And search she did. For days. Until she found the rendezvous point near the overgrown ruins and found no sign of the Seven. Ever the optimist, she refused the conclusions of loss or capture. Rather, her thoughts turned to the seven young teenagers she had helped become warriors. Each of them a force to be reckoned with; each of them vibrant and hopeful.

“I am too late. They have gone on,” she muttered to herself, feeling a cool breeze waft across her face. She turned her head and looked about the forest, realizing she was not meant to find them. That they had indeed stepped into their destiny and were safely on their own now. At least, that's what she told herself.

23
Fighting with Fire

“NORTHEAST,” SAID Tommy, out of breath but refusing to slow their pace. They'd left the Spine just hours before and sprinted through a dense forest toward a very uncertain destination, dusk now descending around them. “That's all I know.”

“It'd be nice if the book had a map in it,” said Johnny, puffing along just behind Tommy.

“Or maybe Grimwarden could have given us some more specific directions,” said Jimmy.

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