First Comes The One Who Wanders (26 page)

Shaking off the uneasy feeling, Leilas had a small breakfast of berries, refilled her water skin and picked up the trail of Master Frey’s army. The food and sleep had refreshed her and she made good time across the valley. She was counting on the Dredracians being too busy assembling to notice one crafter hurrying across the valley floor beneath the dark clouds.

From the tracks the army left, it appeared to Leilas that they were a day, maybe a day and a half ahead of her. She would have to move fast to overtake them, which meant she wouldn't be able to make her way secretly. It was a chance she was going to have to take. She needed to be with Master Frey when he addressed the Council. Once again, she wished Joshuas was with her. She could use his wisdom and counsel on how to approach the masters.

As she thought of him, she almost felt as if she could reach out and touch his face. In her mind, she did touch him and felt her fingers tingle in response. Pulling her hand away, she also pulled her mind away in surprise. That had never happened before. It was as if she'd really touched him. Was that real? Or was her mind playing tricks on her?

"Get a hold on yourself, girl," she chastised herself. Forcing herself to concentrate on the task at hand, she put her thoughts of Joshuas aside. They were too dangerous.

The valley was fairly easy to negotiate, though she found herself looking over her shoulder every few minutes to assure herself she hadn't been discovered. She took care to use the natural cover to hide herself as much as possible. It was well past mid-day when she finally gained the top of the far valley wall. A half-mile of meadow to cross and she would be in the safety of the trees.

One look in the direction of the ruined library changed her mind about making a run for it. Across the valley, hundreds of dark warriors were gathering on the plateau. The picture she’d seen in the cavern was being formed before her eyes. Sentries had been placed along the valley wall every ten feet, though they couldn’t have been attending their posts diligently, or her trip across the valley floor would have already been detected.

The dread she'd felt at seeing Dredrac’s nebulous form hovering over the scene began to creep back into her soul. She needed to be away from here, now. But how was she going to gain the forest without being detected? She would be visible to all those warriors as soon as she stood.

Trying to gauge the sun’s position in the sky, Leilas gave up the idea of moving in the daylight and wriggled back to the edge of the valley wall, cautiously climbing down until she was sheltered by a clatch of rocks. As she waited for the cover of darkness, she watched the forces of dark prepare for war. Her emotions vacillated between her anger at Master Frey and her frustration at having to wait to get on with the task of finding him.

"Why?" she kept asking herself. "Why would he do such a thing? He must have known what would happen. He must have known how many would be hurt and killed. Wasn’t one devastating war enough to ensure he'd be diligent in protecting the balance?"

"Obviously not," Leilas answered her own question, grimly. Something about that book was more important to Master Frey than all of Preterlandis. Hugging herself to ward off the disappointment and disillusionment she felt, she tried to keep her attention on the scene unfolding in front of her and not on her teacher’s betrayal.

Master Frey hadn't spent much time teaching her about crafter’s who betrayed their calling. She could add that to the list of things he’d simply forgotten to teach her. She knew that crafter’s did cross over from the light to dark or from the dark to light occasionally. Every now and then whispers would circulate around the school about someone who’d crossed the line. When one was given the right to choose, sometimes they chose the other path.

Solein had sung several tales of crafters who'd chosen darkness over light. Still, it chilled her to believe Master Frey had chosen the darkness.

"But has he really?" Leilas asked herself. The other Sky crafters were still following him. The dark masters were amassing an army against him. Maybe she'd misread the signs. Leilas held onto that hope for a moment, even though she knew she wasn’t wrong. The other light crafters just hadn’t figured it out yet. It would become clear to them in time.

She grieved for the loss of her friend as the dreary day turned into darkness. The last sight she saw as she climbed back up the valley wall were seven divisions of dark soldiers silhouetted against the sinking sun, making their last preparations before they started after the one who'd attacked their stronghold.

As she sprinted across the meadow, Leilas debated the better course of action. Was it better to warn the small company of men about what was coming, or to inform the masters about what had happened? She knew a true soldier would leave the company in danger in order to save more lives, but she couldn’t do it. Warning the crafters with Master Fry and trying not to get captured while doing it was a chance she would have to take. Then she would warn the masters.

She breathed a bit easier when she gained the protection of the forest, but she didn’t stop. There wasn’t much light from the shrouded moon that reached the forest floor, but there was enough so that she could keep up a steady pace. She wouldn’t stop until she couldn’t go any farther.

The wind rustled ominously through the boughs of the gnarled firs. Dense undergrowth grabbed at her tunic and breeches. Unclasping her robe, she folded it and tucked it in her belt to keep from snagging it on any more bushes. The swaying trees cast eerie shadows and old fears from being in the echoes began to reassert themselves. Leilas felt the presence of nameless, lost souls trying to communicate their despair. They seemed to be caught up in the clouds swirling overhead.

But after the initial panic of hearing all the despair in her mind, Leilas felt her fear lessen and it was slowly being replaced with compassion for those who were lost. It wasn’t much different than Neothera, other than these souls were evil, dark, lost in darkness. In Neothera, the souls were good, and light, but lost nonetheless.

Garabaldi had been right. She'd been too young when she entered the Echoes. If she'd ventured in there now, she'd have understood, although the sadness was almost unbearable. Leilas plodded on through the trees, these bodiless souls giving her more impetus. If she was hearing them, so were many of the crafters in Frey’s company. Who knew what effect they were having on them?

The barrage never ceased as Leilas continued through the forest. Frey’s company had followed the road that led through the wood, but Leilas plunged on through the undergrowth, where there was no road, cutting off many miles of the journey. She continued well into the night before she chose a small clearing in which to make camp. It would have been wonderful to light a fire. She hadn’t been warm since the day she spent with Garabaldi. But she couldn’t be certain there was no one following her. So, she settled for wrapping her cloak around her tightly and resting against the root of a large tree. The fir needles made a soft bed and she quickly fell into a deep sleep.

~~~

Josuas bent down and examined the ground at the last spot that he’d seen Leilas before she'd disappeared. He could feel the remains of the power that had been expended, but there wasn’t enough for him to follow. Swearing softly under his breath, he rose to his feet and looked around in frustration, trying to fight the despair that was threatening to get the better of him. How was he going to find Leilas when he had no idea where she'd gone?

With no other option that came to mind, he called to the powers requesting help in finding the Chosen One. Then he collected wood and made camp for the night. He was awakened the next day by Legaglow, a beautiful white stallion with feathery wings protruding from his back, pushing him gently with his nose. The winged horses weren’t from Solea. They came from Sartoomb in Sylphia. But on occasion, if they had reason, they would come to help. Legaglow had helped him on two other occasions and Joshuas’ spirits rose knowing that Jovan had sent the flying stallion to help him again. Thanking the magical creature for his assistance, Joshuas climbed on his back and whispered "Atana" in his ear. Rising from the ground majestically, the heavenly creature turned north toward the forest where the Light elves made their home and with powerful strokes of his wings, he flew swiftly and tirelessly toward the Elven stronghold.

After the Crafter Wars, when Joshuas had taken to wandering, he'd been befriended by a young elf whom he'd met in a tavern one night. He suspected that the elf had been sent by Greyan to check on his adopted son, but Erion had never admitted that was the reason he was in the tavern that night. Still, they'd struck up a friendship and in the end Erion had invited Joshuas to come with him to Atana. Joshuas had accepted and spent many years in the Elven city, letting their joy and peace heal his wounded spirit. Erion had found him again after Peran died and again, he'd taken him to Atana to heal. With no other idea of how to find Leilas coming to mind, his thoughts had turned to Erion and the elves. If anyone could find Leilas, they could.

Legaglow covered the miles to the northern forest quickly and was soon descending among the trees. Landing softly on the forest floor, he bore Joshuas to a place in the forest that appeared to be just another clearing. He stopped near two gnarled old oaks and allowed Joshuas to slip from his back. "Thank you, old friend," said Joshuas. "Once again I'm in your debt." Legaglow tossed his head, shaking his golden mane and then he turned and trotted away, until he reached a spot where he could once again take flight. Joshuas watched him until he was out of sight, then he turned and stepped between the two gnarled oaks where Legaglow had left him. Once he stepped between the trees, the tented city of Atana came into view. It was nestled in a small valley, surrounded by small hills that were always green and covered in small white flowers. If you ventured onto those hills, it became clear that the flowers were home to the small faeries that made their home with the elves. The tents that made up the homes of the elves were woven of a silken material that shimmered multicolored in the sun. Every day in Atana was a beautiful spring day. Once you stepped into the valley, all sense of time disappeared. As soon as he entered the valley, Joshuas was overwhelmed by a desire to stay there forever. Only his concern for Leilas, kept him from abandoning himself to the feeling.

"Who comes into our valley uninvited?" A slender man with hair the color of moonlight, slightly pointed ears, who was dressed in breeches and tunic that seemed to reflect all the colors around him, addressed Joshuas from behind a long bow that was nocked with an arrow.

"Joshuas, friend of the forest elves," replied the majik, not making the mistake of moving. He was surprised at the hostile reception. He knew the elves kept guard, but this was the first time he'd been accosted in such a manner.

"Joshuas," said the elf, lowering the bow. "I thought it was you, but I had to ask. No one may come into Atana unannounced anymore."

"What has changed, Elorian, my friend?"

"Haven't you heard?"

"I've been traveling and haven't had news in several weeks."

"It's best if Edan explains it to you. I've sent for Erion and he will escort you to the council."

"Is an old friend of the elves no longer allowed to walk in Atana unescorted?"

"These are troubled times, my friend. No one unannounced is allowed to enter without an escort."

Joshuas was tempted to pump Elorian for information, but he knew it would be useless. The Elven guard had his orders. He would just have to wait for Erion and ask him what had happened to make the elves so nervous.

Erion soon arrived, joined by the elf that Elorian had sent to find him. "Joshuas, my old friend, it's good to see you. What brings you to Atana? We'd heard you were on an important mission", said the elf, who appeared to be a younger copy of Elorian.

"That's what brings me to your home, Erion. I've come to ask for your help."

"I'm always willing to help you, you know that Joshuas."

"I thought I knew that. But I'm less sure now that I'm here."

"I'm sorry for the welcome you've received. But with the news we've received from our scouts, we thought it wise to increase our security."

"What news have you received, to cause you to receive friends in such a manner?"

"Perhaps it would be better if Edan explained. I'll escort you to the council as soon as you've had something to eat and have refreshed yourself."

"My business is pressing," said Joshuas, trying not to offend his friend by refusing his hospitality outright.

"There is time to partake of food," said Erion, insisting, without making it sound as if he were.

Joshuas acquiesced graciously and allowed himself to be escorted through the city. Men and women both were busy practicing with their bows and swords, making the serious art of war look like a beautiful dance. Erion led him to a tent where he left Joshuas in the care of two women who brought him food and drink. The tent was decorated with wood carvings and silken pillows. Joshuas made himself comfortable on the pillows that served as a place to sit and allowed the women to wait on him.

Times had certainly changed in Atana. The last time he'd visited, the people had been busy making musical instruments, singing songs and enjoying the beauty of the day. They hadn’t been diligently readying themselves for war. Joshuas ate quickly and then waited as patiently as he was able for Erion to return.