Venom and Song (9 page)

Jimmy blushed. “Uh . . . well, that will take some gettin' used to. For most of me life, I've been rather second fiddle. Uh . . . more like tenth fiddle, really.” Jimmy stared at the floor. “The tunic's all right anyway.”

“It's not all right if it isn't just the way you want it,” said Brennath. “Command me, m'lord.”

“Uh, well then, I suppose mine is a wee bit loose.”

“Well done, m'lord,” said Brennath. “You will have to wear it for the ceremony, but I will have it altered before the council tomorrow afternoon.”

“Thank yu,” said Jimmy, still red-cheeked. “It is a great-looking tunic. And I do like the sword.” Jimmy whipped the rychesword from his sheath, spun around, and slashed the air.

“WHOA, Jimmy!” Tommy leaped backward and blocked with his own sword just before Jimmy would have carved a gash into his upper leg. “Watch where you swing that thing. You could have cut off my leg or something.”

“I knew yu'd block it,” said Jimmy, quickly sheathing the sword. He winked but then whistled a nervous
whew
.

Jett laughed and cinched his sword belt a bit tighter. The triangular chamber in which they now stood, indeed the whole castle, was cut from the same dimpled bluish stone that the entire underground city seemed to be built from. Silvery light radiated up from clusters of icy-clear crystals in each of the three corners. Jett wandered over to take a closer look. “These crystal things are cool,” he said.

“You are quite perceptive,” said Brennath. “We call those cold lamps.”

Jett laughed. “That's not what I meant by
cool
.”

It was Brennath's turn to be red-faced. “I'm sorry, m'lord. What did you mean?”

“No need to apologize,” said Jett. “I just meant these crystal, uh, cold lamps, they rock. They're sweet.”

Brennath stared blankly.

“He means he really likes the way they look,” said Tommy.

“Oh,” replied the flet soldier.

“Right,” said Jett. “C'mere, Tommy, Jimmy. Look at it. There's a tiny little fire burning down in the middle of these crystals. But it's weird fire . . . kind of silvery . . . like . . . ish.” The others hustled over.

“Wow,” said Tommy. “It's like fire made of mercury.”

“That is a single ounce of dremask vein,” said Brennath. “A peculiar metal to be sure—we discovered it at the bottom of some of the coldest underground riverbeds. Cold ignites it, and it burns cold.”

“It burns in the water?” Tommy asked. “Then how do you put it out?”

Brennath regarded him gravely. “You don't.”

Someone knocked at the door. “Are the lads dressed?” came a muffled woman's voice.

“The lords are garbed in their finery,” said Brennath. “Do come in.”

Regis strolled into the chamber. “Don't you all look dashing,” she said, making a big show of looking over the young lords in their royal garb.

Jimmy stood up especially straight. Regis's dark eyes gleamed mysteriously out between long wisps of black hair. Jimmy sighed. He'd had a crush on Regis ever since she took a job at the tavern back in Ardfern. Now that he knew that she was actually an elite Dreadnaught warrior, well, that just made her all the more intriguing.
If only she wasn't hundreds of years older than me
, Jimmy thought.

“The sun is climbing high,” said Regis. “It is time for the ceremony.”

“What about Autumn?” asked Jett.

“Autumn . . . I cannot say if she will join us in Luminary Hall.”

“Will Autumn be okay?” asked Tommy.

Regis's lips betrayed the slightest hint of a smile in one corner of her mouth. “Again,” she said. “I cannot say. Maybe you shall see for yourself, if Lady Claris allows more visitors for her charge. Come now, lads, many are waiting.”

“Regis?” Jimmy spoke up.

“Yes, Jimmy?”

“Would yu like t'know yur future?”

“Well, that depends,” said Regis. She tilted her head, raised an eyebrow, and eyed him curiously. “Is it a good future?” Tommy, Jett, and Brennath looked on.

“I think so,” said Jimmy, holding his arm in an L shape. “Yur future is to take me arm and walk me to the ceremony.”

Brennath laughed. Tommy and Jett stared. Regis walked to Jimmy, took his arm, and said, “It is a good future indeed.” She promptly led Jimmy out of the room. Brennath followed, leaving two gawking young lords.

“I didn't know Jimmy was that smooth,” said Jett.

Tommy just shook his head.
And all I can do is shoot arrows
.

Luminary Hall was cavernous and perfectly round. Braziers lit with dremask flickered brightly every seven feet around the perimeter wall. Their eerily beautiful silvery light glimmered on the ceremonial armor of flet soldiers posted at every door. Six of the seven young lords stood in front of seven high throne chairs arranged in a half circle near the middle of the room. Directly across from the thrones, seven smaller seats waited with a robed Elf standing statuesquely behind each one. Massive multitiered seats rose up around the center like a coliseum, and above those, wide balconies clung to the walls like caterpillars inside a jar.

“It looks like every single seat is filled,” Kat said, staring.

“That's a lot of Elves,” said Tommy. “Think they can even see us from way up there?”

“You can see them, can't you?” asked Jett. “This is great, like being in the Super Bowl.”

“Just makes me nervous,” said Kat.

“Hey, look a' that!” Jimmy exclaimed, pointing beyond the seven robed Elves to a low-level section of seats. “It's Miss Finney, Regis, Goldarrow, Grimwarden, and the others.”

“Edward is there, too,” said Kiri Lee.

“I wish this ceremony was just in front of them,” said Kat. “I don't like being the center of atten—”

“Kat, look!” Tommy pointed to a section of Elves seated off to their left.

Kat gasped. What caught her eye was more remarkable than anything she had ever seen. Not their clothes. Not their hairstyle. It was their
skin
. “They . . . they're just like me.” Kat held trembling fingers to her mouth. She remembered Mr. Wallace and Anna telling her about the Berylinian Elves, how they all had bluish skin like hers, but that had been back on Earth right in the midst of learning so many strange and unbelievable things. To see them in person filled Kat now with overwhelming joy, a kind of snuggling warmth that radiated through her body. Tears beaded and then rolled down her cheeks.
Blue men, blue women, blue children . . . different shades, too
. It was overwhelming.
I'm not a freak,
she thought.
If only Mom and Dad could see them
. She covered her face with her hands, shook with something like soft coughs, and cried tears that like a cleansing rain washed away years of silent suffering.

Anna appeared at Tommy's side. “What's happened? Kat, is she all right?”

“Yeah, she's cool,” said Tommy. “Really cool, I think.” He nodded toward the Berylinian Elves.

Anna understood immediately. She touched Kat's shoulders. “You see,” she said, “you are beautiful. You always were.”

And why wouldn't she think she's beautiful?
Tommy wondered. Girls totally confused him sometimes.

Kat looked up to Anna with grateful, glistening eyes, but she couldn't find words. Then to Tommy.
Did she hear me just then
? He blushed.

In that moment, the young lords' attention was drawn to the center of the great room. A tall Elf wearing a long black robe with ornate forest green accents at the collar and sleeves strode forward. His hair was the color of iron, and his large, peaceful eyes smiled. He lifted his arms, showing the deep green lining of his cloak. When the hall became completely silent, he called aloud, “I am Alwynn Belkirith, High Cleric of the Tribes of Berinfell, successor of Elrain Galadhon.” His voice was high like that of a tenor and as clear as a bell's toll at midnight. The acoustics of the hall carried his sonorous voice even to the highest balcony. “On this, the twenty-third day of Arduin in the year 1422, eight hundred years after our city and our hope were stolen from us, the Lords of Berinfell return at last.”

Cheers and shouts erupted, but above it all, the Elves began to clap, everyone synchronized:
clap—clap—clap
—slow at first, then increasing speed.
Clap, clap, clap
. Thousands of Elves clapped in perfect rhythm even as the pace picked up. Faster and faster it went, until it was full-out applause, and the high cleric again silenced the crowd.

“Taken as infants and exiled to Earth where they would know nothing of their true lineage, today they have come here to claim their birthright.” Alwynn slowly surveyed the entire room and lifted one hand. “Will you all witness their ascension and pledge your service to them?”

“WE WILL!” came the choral reply.

Alwynn walked in a circle and traced a fingertip around a sloping cone of gray metal that stood waist high in the exact center of the floor. “You, faithful Elves of Berinfell, wish to serve your lords, but you must meet them first. You must meet them ALL.”

He turned and gestured toward an entrance to the far right of the young lords and their thrones. There, a shadow appeared in the doorway. This figure came forward, followed by two flet soldiers. They neared the center of the hall. Johnny squinted, saw the silvery dremask light in this person's hair.
It can't be
.
I thought she'd still be too weak to walk on her own
.

The figure came a little closer to the thrones. Johnny yelled, “AUTUMN!” And it was. She looked haggard and pale, but determined. She walked slowly across the hall, the two flet soldiers right behind her. As one, the other six teens raced toward her and embraced her. “Autumn, you're walking,” Johnny said, holding her away from him.

“I'm still very sore,” she said. “But I'm getting my strength back quickly. Claris says in another week, I'll be able to run. I mean . . . really run. But there are other things . . .” Her voice trailed off, and she and Johnny shared a sad and knowing glance.

What was that about?
Tommy wondered.

Kat frowned as she read Johnny's and Autumn's thoughts.
“Poor Johnny and Autumn,”
Kat's thoughts replied in Tommy's mind.

What?
Tommy's urgent question flashed back.

“They're not brother and sister . . . they just found out.”

But no additional thoughts passed between them as the high cleric stilled the cheering audience and motioned for the lords to be seated, and then motioned for the audience to be seated.

Alwynn's eyes underwent a transformation. The quiet peace was replaced by vital confidence, almost ferocity. His voice matched his glare. “We, the Children of Light, have dwelt
far
too long in darkness,” he said, the urgency of his words intensifying. “We, the founders of Berinfell and the caretakers of all of Allyra, have hidden in fear for
far
too long. We, the most ancient of the Great Races, have allowed ourselves to be driven near extinction. But NO MORE.”

Cheers and more synchronized clapping. Alwynn gestured behind him, and the other six robed figures lowered their hoods. “Brethren of Elders, come forward. It is time to see our lords properly attired.”

Properly attired?
Kat looked down at her tunic and then over at Tommy and the others.
But we're all already dressed pretty elegantly
. She looked over to Kiri Lee who smiled back with confidence, used to being the center of attention.

Alwynn came first to Tommy. “You are Felheart, son of Lord Velaril and Tarin, his bride, of the tribe Silvertree. You were born a lord, but you must also choose to fulfill those duties by a pure heart. Your position requires stout leadership, but also . . . relentless service. Will you, before Ellos and all these you see assembled here, assume your position as a Lord of Elves? Will you honor our creeds? And will you serve your people?”

“I will,” said Tommy.

Alwynn pulled something out of a deep pocket in his robe. “Then by virtue of blood and word”—he lifted a cord over Tommy's head— “I deem you a Lord of Elves. And I give you the amulet of the tribe Silvertree. You must wear it at all times, covering your heart, signifying your everlasting covenant to lead and protect your people, even at risk of your own life. Notice that the amulet itself is crafted from the most precious metals and stones, but the necklace is but a plain black cord. Remember, you—like the people you serve—are a blessed mixture of all that is precious and all that is common, and you must never stray from the right path. Now, sit, Lord of Elves. Sit upon the throne of your tribe.”

Tommy nodded repeatedly and sat down. The high cleric stepped backward. Tommy looked at the amulet on his chest. It was round, about three inches in diameter, and seemed to be made of some kind of beveled crystal. Small irregular shapes were cut out of the field of the crystal, some wide enough that Tommy could fit a fingertip through them. The rest of the precious semi-transparent stone was divided into numerous sections by thin curving veins of silvery metal. Tommy held the medallion up closer to his face. In some of the smaller sections of jeweled stone, he could just make out a symbol or a letter of some kind.
Not English, that's for sure
. He squinted.
Goldarrow will know
.