Armageddon's Children (46 page)

She shook her head helplessly. “When I tried to object, he shouted me down. He was so angry! I have never seen him so angry. What could I do? He is my father! He was insistent about it!”

A long silence settled between them. They stared at each other, neither ready to say anything more right away. Kirisin was unsure how he should feel. He was furious at the King, but on the other hand he understood how Arissen Belloruus would want to protect his only daughter from what he perceived to be the danger of using the Loden. What bothered him most, however, was a nagging suspicion that the King might not have told Erisha everything he knew, that he might be holding something back. He had been duplicitous with Kirisin; there was nothing to say he was being any less so with her.

“What are you going to do?” she asked him finally.

In point of fact, he didn’t know. He had thought knowing the truth of things would give him the answer to that question, but it hadn’t. He was as much adrift now as he had been before.

“How does your father know that the Loden might be a danger to the user?” he asked.

She shrugged. “When I told him what the Ellcrys had said, he had me wait while he sent old Culph to study the histories to see what they said about it. It was after Culph had done so that he decided I couldn’t have anything to do with the matter. He found out something about what would happen if the Loden were used, but as I said, he wouldn’t tell me.”

Kirisin thought it through some more. Then he said to her, “Don’t you want to know what that something is?”

She shook her head doubtfully. “I’m not sure if I do or not.”

“At least you would know how dangerous it really is to use the Loden. You would know if your father is right to forbid you.”

“Maybe.”

“You said you took your Chosen oath seriously. If that’s so, don’t you have to find out what you’re risking if you try to help the Ellcrys?” He paused. “She asked you for help first, Erisha. Not me. She didn’t ask me until it must have seemed that you had abandoned her. But you were the one she wanted.”

Erisha looked miserable. “I know who she asked, Kirisin. What are you suggesting I do?”

“Have a look at the histories. That way you can make up your own mind. I’ll help you. I don’t expect you to do this alone. Maybe we’ll find the answer faster if there are two of us searching.”

She was silent again, thinking. “I don’t know.”

“Remember when we were kids?” he asked impulsively. He reached out and touched her lightly on the shoulder. “We’d chase all through the woods outside your house and pretend we were on an adventure. Sometimes we would do it at night, when the woods were dark and scary. We pretended we were looking for secret treasure. We were friends, then. I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but I think we still are. I don’t know why your father is so worried about what might happen to you, but I want to help you find out. Why don’t you give me a chance? Don’t you want to know the reason?”

She stared fixedly at him, as if not certain who he was. Then she said, “We would have to sneak into the room where the histories are stored. Old Culph is poking around in there all the time. We would have to get in when he was sleeping or he would want to know what we’re doing and would probably tell my father.” She paused, thinking. “But I know how to get into the room, even after it’s locked.”

She was getting caught up in the idea of doing something, of shedding the burden of guilt she had been carrying for obeying her father’s wishes and ignoring her duty as a Chosen.

“Are you willing to do that?” he pressed, wanting to make sure she wouldn’t change her mind. “If you decide to disobey him, he will probably be pretty angry.”

“He will be furious,” she agreed, looking doubtful again.

“But you can’t worry about that right now,” he insisted. He watched her face, measuring her resolve. “Not until we find out what he knows that we don’t.”

She shook her head. “I suppose not.” Her eyes lifted to meet his. “No, not until we find out.”

The doubt he had seen a moment earlier was gone. He exhaled sharply in relief. “Can we do it tonight?” he asked.

She nodded, determination plain on her face. “We can do it tonight.”

THE REMAINDER OF
the day passed slowly for Kirisin. He kept as busy as he could in the gardens, his thoughts drifting constantly to what Erisha had revealed to him. His emotions were mixed. On the one hand, he could understand her father’s reluctance to place his only child in danger. On the other, she was the leader of the Chosen and the one the Ellcrys had asked for help. It seemed to him that both her father’s and her own duties were clear, but he didn’t know how he would act if he were King and Erisha were his daughter, so he tried not to judge them—even as he found himself doing so. Kirisin had always looked up to and admired Arissen Belloruus, but he didn’t think he would ever feel that way again. How he would feel about Erisha remained to be seen. It would depend on what happened this night. It would depend on how she reacted to whatever they learned from the Elven histories.

One thing was certain. His parents would be furious if they were to learn that their cousin was willing to endanger the entire Elven nation to protect his daughter. Which is why Kirisin would have to keep it from them, since he knew that they would take the matter right to the King and how that was likely to end for all of them.

Sunset was a long time coming, and he had more than sufficient time to mull things over. By then, he was sick of thinking about it and anxious to act.

But first there was dinner with his parents—with whom he had arranged to spend the night—talk of Simralin and her anticipated arrival home, and household chores he was expected to carry out when visiting. He went to bed early, feigning weariness, and slept restlessly for several hours before waking an hour before midnight. After listening to be sure the rest of the household was asleep, he rose and dressed. Taking his long knife and sandals, he climbed out the window and disappeared into the darkness without a sound.

The Elven community was quiet, most of the people either in bed or on their way. The sky was overcast and shed only a little light, so Kirisin was forced to rely on his Elven senses to help him pick his way through the blackness. The air was still and warm, the night cloaked in silence and hushed expectancy. He moved cautiously down the narrow paths that led to the Belloruus home, picking his way and listening for sounds that would alert him to another’s presence. He heard none, and he arrived at the edges of the King’s home without incident.

Crouching in the bushes at the prearranged spot, just beyond the perimeter where the guards patrolled, he waited for midnight and Erisha.

Several times it occurred to him that no one knew where he was. If anything happened to him, no one would know where to look for him. It was a chilling thought—that the Elven King might do something to silence him—but he could not help thinking about it in light of what he now knew about the man. If he were willing to risk endangering the Ellcrys to protect his daughter, he wouldn’t have much trouble finding an excuse for removing a troublesome boy.

It made him wonder. Would Erisha have gone back on her word and betrayed him to her father?

He was still wondering when she appeared out of the darkness, dressed as he was, a shadowy presence in the gloom. “This way,” she whispered, putting her mouth right next to his ear. “The guards won’t see us. Their eyes look elsewhere for the next few minutes. Hurry!”

He followed her through the trees, doing his best to place his feet exactly where she did, casting anxious glances all about—for the Home Guard and whoever or whatever else kept the King safe. But no one appeared and no alarms sounded, and in only minutes they were at a side door that gave soundlessly at Erisha’s touch and admitted them into the Belloruus house.

Kirisin stood just inside the doorway, breathing hard despite himself. Erisha had stopped in front of him, apparently listening, making sure that it was safe. Satisfied, she took his arm and pulled him ahead. They went slowly, passing through rooms lit by tiny candles that gave just enough light to permit them to find their way without falling over the furniture. Once or twice, Erisha stopped and listened anew before proceeding. They reached a door that opened onto the stairway that led to the library housing the Elven histories and started down. Erisha was carrying a smokeless torch now to light their way. The air grew cooler and the silence deeper. They went down several flights until they reached the bottom level and stood in a small anteroom with a worktable and several chairs. A pair of doors were set into earthen walls shored up with beams and siding.

Erisha walked to the door on the right and opened it carefully, thrusting the torch inside for a quick look. Satisfied, she turned back to Kirisin and beckoned him forward. They entered the room, which was filled with shelves and cabinets crammed with books and papers, all marked by printed labels and numbers. Erisha moved to the back of the room, casting about as she went, searching. She stopped finally and pointed to a set of books that were ancient and dustcovered, bound in leather and labeled in gilt. She took down the first two volumes and passed one to him.

“These are the histories,” she whispered. “Do you want to carry them outside to the table?”

He shook his head. “Let’s stay in here.”

Together, they sat cross-legged on the wooden slat floor, placed the torch between them, opened the books, and began to read.

It was a long, slow process. The order in which the contents of the books had been recorded was confusing; it didn’t seem to be chronological or by subject. The writing on the pages was small and cramped, and many of the words were unfamiliar. Kirisin quickly decided it would take too long to read everything and suggested to Erisha that they search for key words such as
Ellcrys
and
Elfstones,
stopping to read the text when they found either. They did so and were able to turn the pages more quickly, but still found only infrequent mention of either word.

Worse, they did not once come across even the smallest reference to the Loden.

They finished the first two books and moved on to the next pair. Time was slipping away. Kirisin found himself glancing at Erisha, who was absorbed in her reading and paying no attention to him. He was surprised that she had come around so completely, but gratified, too. He was thinking better of her already. If they found something and she acted on it, he might even be willing to reassess…

“Looking for something?” a voice growled from out of the darkness of the doorway.

Kirisin felt his heart stop. He met Erisha’s frightened gaze as her head jerked up, and he could not look away.

H
ANDS SHOOK HAWK
’
S
shoulders hard and brought him awake with a start.

“Wake up, Bird-Man,” he heard Panther say.

He blinked his sleep-fogged eyes, trying to focus. It took him a moment to orient himself. He was still on the floor of the common room where he had fallen asleep last night. He could hear voices in the background, hushed and filled with wonder. He sensed joy emanating from their rise and fall.

“Hey!” Panther shook him again, and this time he looked up into the other’s eyes. A faint, ironic smile greeted him. “Better come see what your dog is up to.”

Cheney.
He sat up quickly—too quickly—and everything started spinning. He sat with his head between his legs for a moment, waiting for things to quit moving.

“You worse off than that animal,” Panther snorted derisively. “Maybe you got some of what he don’t. Get up, will you? You want to miss it?”

Hawk blinked, the spinning stopped, and he looked at Panther. “Miss what?” he asked.

“Over there,” the other said, pointing.

The remaining Ghosts were crowded around Cheney, who was on his feet and lapping water from a bowl. He looked a bit ragged around the edges, but his wounds from yesterday’s battle had all but disappeared.

Owl wheeled, dark eyes intense. “How did this happen?” she asked, a mix of amazement and deep suspicion evident on her face. “We all saw it. He was dying, Hawk.”