| the path to peace |
[Dec. 27th, 2006|10:22 pm] |
“We’ll go,” I said quietly, my eyes still on my lap.
Damaeon looked at me sternly and reached over to grip me by the wrist. I was surprised by his strength as I raised my eyes to meet his. I could see the fear and worry there, as well as anger.
“We should discuss this,” he told me.
The emotions in his eyes were mirrored in his voice. I drew my hand away from his, my skin white where his fingers had held me, and frowned. He blinked in astonishment.
“This offer is the best way to end the war without anymore bloodshed,” I decided. “I want to hear what this new queen has to say.”
“And Will?” Damaeon asked.
“I’ll keep him safe,” I promised, feeling my new untested powers welling up in my chest.
The Dyrel prince still looked doubtful. His eyes moved around the room to the few soldiers that remained from his army. They stood like statues, but I could feel their anxiety, echoing that of their prince. Cyrus risked a glance at me, his brown eyes full of the same awe and confusion he had been giving me since my meeting with the White Lady. Damaeon nodded his head slightly and the room cleared, even Cyrus slipped quietly out the door. The Prince waited a few minutes, his finger tented in front of his face as he thought.
“Listen,” I said, trying to explain myself. “This queen didn’t ask for you or Cyrus or Fynn or Jakob, only Will and me. I don’t know how much of the truth she knows, but I can find out. If we meet her, and this peace she’s proposing doesn’t last, at least we’ll know our enemy, right?”
Damaeon looked away from me for a moment. An elf came in with glasses of water, which he placed on the table before bowing to me and backing nervously out of the room. As I sipped the cool liquid, I thought back to the first elf I had seen on this world, the scout Roric had capture and delivered to Mattis what felt like a lifetime ago. I wondered if he was still alive.
“Take Fynn with you,” Damaeon spoke softly.
I smiled. “I don’t think I could stop him. He’s been a shadow since…”
I trailed off, knowing none of my friends liked to talk about what had happened after the Elven Queen had offered me the silver acorn. The Prince cleared his throat awkwardly in the silence, and I place my hand on his.
“We’ll be fine,” I assured him. “Fynn will look out for me, and I’ll watch out for Will. I’m not as helpless as I once was, you know. The three of us will be back before you know it.”
I didn’t wait for Damaeon to think of another reason to object, but rose quickly to my feet and left the small house to find Fynn. The Huryl messenger was being guarded in the hallway, and I passed him as I left. His brown eyes locked on to my face, and he bowed his head deeply. I was a little thrown by this reaction, wondering if the Huryl still believed me to be the Warrior of legend, or just a common murderer.
Outside the house, I found Will lingering by the door, drawing circles in the dirt with his foot. He looked up as I stepped into the sunlight, his green eyes devoid of the madness that had once possessed him. He took a step forward eagerly, dozens of questions on his mind, but unable to move past his lips.
“Cyrus found you, didn’t he?” I asked with a smile.
Will nearly blushed as he nodded. I laughed, and gestured for him to walk with me as I told him what had happened, omitting the part about answering for our crimes. He stopped when I told him we would be travelling back to the Huryl capital.
“Don’t worry,” I said soothingly, “you’ll have me and Fynn to watch out for you.”
The look he returned to me made it clear that he was far from convinced. He began to gesture rapidly in the strange pantomime language he had invented. I watched helplessly, unable to keep up with his movements, before placing my hands on his to calm him down.
“I won’t let them harm you,” I said.
He raised an eyebrow sceptically.
“For peace?” I tried, squeezing his hands.
He rolled his eyes and his lips parted as if to sigh. Finally he nodded, and threw his arms in the air as if submitting to my madness. I felt a pang of guilt for not telling him the whole truth, but the journey would be long and I could always tell him when we were underway. The self-justification did nothing for my guilt as I followed Will into the forest.
We found Fynn remarkably easily, sitting on a large overturned log with his back to us. A small brook babbled between the trees, and Fynn was staring at it completely lost in thought. As Will wandered over to the water, I pulled myself onto the log next to my protector and he turned to look at me with a surprised expression on his face.
“Leila!” he said, forcing a smile on his face.
His eyes were troubled, full of confusion and worry. I wondered if perhaps he had already heard about my plan to turn myself over to the Huryl, but he said nothing as he returned his gaze to the scenery around him.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
For a moment, I thought he would actually tell me. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then the corner of his lips curled into an amused grin, and his mouth closed without uttering a sound. Instead, he managed to wipe the worry from his eyes as he faced me again.
“I should be asking you that, I think,” he replied. “What trouble have you stirred up this time?”
I blushed and bit my lip, the guilt I had felt earlier resurfacing. Fynn laughed and put his arm around my shoulder like he had done before, but suddenly thought better of it and withdrew his embrace. Softly, so Will would not overhear, I told Fynn everything that the Huryl messenger had told me. When I finished, he let out a low whistle and ran his fingers through his long white-blonde hair, moving it enough for me to see his long pointed ears clearly. Those ears reminded me at once of both the Elven Queen and the faerie Ellena, whom we had not seen since Mattis had become the Woodwalker.
“When do we leave?” Fynn asked.
I blinked. “You’re not going to talk me out of this?”
He shook his head. “You’ve been here long enough to know how this world works, and the Lady trusts you enough to get by on your own. That’s good enough for me.”
I suddenly felt isolated and alone, like I was an acrobat whose safety net had just been cut away. I slid off the log and landed onto the soft leaves that carpeted the forest floor. Will raised his head when he saw me move and hurried to join me, but I kept my eyes on Fynn. Something was still bothering him, but now he was doing his best to hide it.
“We should leave at once,” I decided, “before Jakob finds out. I know he’ll hate to be left behind.”
Will tapped me on the shoulder and pointed towards the elven village. Even without turning, I could sense the fury approaching.
“Too late,” I sighed.
Fynn smiled bemusedly and pulled his legs up onto the log, so he was sitting comfortably cross-legged to watch the spectacle. I winced inwardly as I turned to meet Jakob.
“What on earth has gotten into you?” Jakob exclaimed. “You’re taking on the Huryl by yourself now?”
“Fynn and Will are coming too,” I objected, looking over at them for support.
Will raised his hands and backed away, and Fynn calmly gazed up at the sky. The feeling of isolation returned as I faced Jakob alone. He was pacing back and forth, looking very much like his father, although I didn’t say it.
“I’m starting to think the only way to keep you safe is to lock you up,” the former Huryl sighed, shaking his head.
“You don’t need to keep me safe,” I protested. “I wasn’t brought here to be sheltered!”
Jakob looked at me helplessly. “What good will you do from a Huryl dungeon?”
“What makes you so certain that’s where I’ll end up?”
“Leila, haven’t you been paying any attention anything that’s happened? The Huryl have locked you up three times already. Remember the Tower? Remember the cage in Cedrik’s throne room?”
“Cedrik is dead,” I reminded him.
“So this new queen must be a saint?” Jakob countered. “I was Huryl. I lived most of my life in that country.”
“So did Will.”
“And he looks very excited to go back, doesn’t he?”
Will retreated behind the log, anxious to be left out of our argument. I found myself growing angry at Jakob, although I knew he was only trying to protect me, as he had sworn to do. Why couldn’t he understand that I’ve changed so much since our escape through the mountains?
“I’m going with you,” Jakob announced.
I shook my head. “The queen only mentioned me and Will.”
He seemed a little taken aback by that. Apparently his informant had failed to mention that part of the deal. I knew he had to stay with Damaeon to be safe. This time I would protect him.
“Please, Jakob,” I begged, hating to fight. “I’ll be fine. Damaeon has already agreed, and so have Will and Fynn. The Queen just wants to talk. Besides, you need to help Damaeon gather the rest of the Dyrel and rebuild Oponoe.”
Jakob put a hand on my shoulder and sighed. “Promise me, promise me that if anything happens, if anything goes wrong, you’ll use all your power to escape.”
“I promise.”
“No crazy heroics?”
“No crazy heroics.”
He pulled me close to him and squeezed me in a tight embrace. I heard Fynn clear his throat above us, and Jakob reluctantly pulled away. He still looked angry, but at least he had agreed. I put my hand to his cheek and brushed away a tear that had fallen from his eye.
*****
Damaeon, Safyra, Xair, and the Huryl messenger were waiting for us at the edge of the elven village as the sun shone high in the sky. Cyrus and a few guards were surrounding the messenger, but they melted back like butter as we approached. Safyra and Xair bowed deeply to me, and Jakob moved to stand beside the Prince. Two elves handed Will and I each a pack of supplies and kissed us on the cheek before disappearing into the forest.
“Good luck,” Damaeon whispered in my ear as we embraced. “I’m trusting you to represent the Dyrel.”
He shook hands with Will and took his place beside Jakob once more. Xair came forward, leaning heavily on his cane, and pressed something into my palm. I opened it to find a normal acorn, although much larger than average. The old elf winked at me and nodded towards the giant tree that loomed over the elven village, and I closed my fingers around the gift.
“Let’s get going,” the messenger said. “We’ve a long way to go before nightfall.”
I nodded and the four of us left the safety of the elves once more. As we moved away from them, I could feel the power of the spirits growing as that of the elves waned. Part of me thought that this was not right, that the power should always be flowing equally. I shrugged the thought aside and hurried forward.
“What’s your name?” I asked the messenger.
“It’s not important, my Lady,” he told me. “I’m to bring you to Her Majesty.”
“You already said it’s a long trip,” I reminded him. “I can’t just call you ‘hey you’ the whole time, can I?”
He gave a short laugh. “I’m called Jorge, my Lady.”
“I’m Leila. Stop with the ‘my Lady’ already.”
He shook his head. “You may call me what you want, but I know who you are, my Lady.”
By the time night was falling, we were out of the forest and in the large open field that lay between the Dyrel and the Huryl. I took a deep breath of the cool night air and gazed up at the unfamiliar constellations above me. Jorge, however, didn’t pause.
“We can be in the foothills in a few hours if we keep moving,” he said.
“But it’s dark,” I objected. “Shouldn’t we rest?”
“It will be safer if we keep moving,” Jorge replied. “Come.”
I hesitated, with Will and Fynn lingering beside me. The Huryl paused a few feet away from us, gesturing impatiently for us to follow.
“He’s not telling us something,” Fynn whispered to me. “He’s far too eager to be over the Dyrel border.”
I stared out at our guide, wondering if I could trust him. Should we continue across the grasslands in the dark, or wait in the relative safety of the trees until morning? |
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