Soul Seeker (The World of Lasniniar Book 1) (11 page)

BOOK: Soul Seeker (The World of Lasniniar Book 1)
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“Two Forsworn Ones?” Lysandir’s eyes widened. “We knew five of the seven were abroad, but I had assumed they would split up to create as much widespread chaos as possible. It seems Saviadro wants victory here in Belierumar to be certain before moving south to Melaquenya. If Belierumar falls, there will be no obstacle between his army and the midlands.”

“What can we do to defeat such a force? Thousands of dark creatures wait in the pass with the Forsworn.” The lord looked weary.

“There is still hope.” The Learnéd One gave a brief smile. “Iarion, Barlo, and Silvaranwyn will be strong additions to your forces. The Forsworn also do not know I am here. They will be surprised when they find they have me to contend with.”

“I thought you said they cannot be killed as long as the tainted Quenya remains,” Linwyn said with a sly look, as though she were hoping to catch him in a lie.

“I did say that.” Lysandir nodded. “But I have powers at my disposal that can cripple them. You will see.”

“Will it be enough?” Lord Eranander pressed.

“Probably not.” Lysandir sighed. “We will have to look to others for aid.”

“Who can we ask?” Linwyn shook her head. “We have few connections with the elder races, and my father just told you we cannot contact our kin in the north. Even if there were someone who would come to our aid, how could word possibly reach them in time? The dark army will strike soon. Our freedom is counted in hours, not days.”

“You may have few connections with the elder races,” Lysandir said, “but the rest of us do not. Iarion can send word to Melaralva for the Earth and Wood Elves. Barlo can summon his people from Dwarvenhome. And as for how quickly this can be done, Silvaranwyn can take care of that for us.” Lysandir smiled in the confused Light Elf’s direction.

“And what of you?” Linwyn asked. “Does the mighty Learnéd One who has the power to cripple the Forsworn not have any ties that can be of use?”

“I do, but none of you will like it.” Lysandir paused before continuing. “I wish to send word to Dwarfhaven.” Barlo was about to protest when Linwyn cut him off.

“The traitor dwarves? Surely you jest!”

“That was a long time ago,” Lysandir said. “I have visited them many times over the years. They are deeply ashamed of their ancestors’ crime of harboring Hilgur and his son. They wish to make amends. Not only do I believe they will answer my summons, but they are the only ones who could arrive before the dark army attacks. They are the only potential allies we have between the Barrier and Jagged Mountains. Even if we send word now, the others will arrive after the initial attack.”

“Lysandir is right,” Lord Eranander said. “In times like these, we must take whatever allies we can get and be grateful. What will you need?”

“Some ink and parchment. Iarion and Barlo will write missives to their people while Silvaranwyn and I make a visit to one of your balconies.” Lysandir rose and beckoned. Silvaranwyn looked too tired to protest.

Lord Eranander summoned a servant. Once the supplies arrived, Barlo and Iarion worked on their messages. Barlo addressed his letter to his wife. Narilga would do what was needed. He added brief, private greetings to her and the children, letting them know he was accompanying Iarion on a quest of great importance. He knew they would understand.

Shortly after Barlo and Iarion finished their letters, Lysandir and Silvaranwyn returned. Silvaranwyn’s golden face was pale. She sat next to Iarion and leaned against him for support.

“She used her magic to call a falcon,” Lysandir said. “She asked the falcon to find the closest Sky Elf and summon them here.”

“And how long will that take?” Linwyn asked.

“A few hours at most,” the Learnéd One said. “We know the Lord and Lady of the
Linadar
planned to send
Sintadar
messengers to Melaralva. There are most likely others in the area, acting as scouts. The Sky Elves are the fastest messengers one could hope for. We have only to wait.”

Although Lysandir seemed in good spirits as he continued to enjoy his food and drink, the other companions sat in exhausted silence. Iarion coaxed Silvaranwyn into eating some fruit, speaking to her in their own tongue. Barlo was glad the elf had patched things up with her.

Linwyn watched with them an odd look, while Golaron remained expressionless. Lord Eranander observed his children’s behavior, curiosity in his eyes. Lysandir seemed oblivious to all this as he continued his happy eating, devouring his meal with relish. He was just finishing when someone burst through the door.

“My lord.” It was a member of the guard. He sketched a nervous bow. “Forgive me for disturbing you, but a strange creature has arrived. An elf with wings! He does not seem to speak the Common Tongue. I thought it best he be brought to you.”

Lord Eranander raised an eyebrow and gave Lysandir a speculative look. “You did well,” he said to the guard. “Show him in.”

The man stepped aside to allow the stranger to enter. The eyes of all the humans present widened. The Sky Elf’s golden skin, white hair, and blue accented wings seemed to shimmer in the torchlight. His clothing was a mottled gray. He bowed to Silvaranwyn and began to speak in Elvish.

Iarion translated for the rest of the group. “He says: ‘Greetings, Golden One. I am Iarasinta. I have answered your summons. How may I aid you?’”

Lysandir answered, speaking rapidly in Elvish. Iarasinta responded.

“Lysandir is asking him to deliver our messages,” Iarion said. “Iarasinta agrees. He has already sent the falcon on to summon two more of his kind who are in the area. He will take Lysandir’s message to Dwarfhaven and the other two will travel to Dwarvenhome and Melaralva. Iarasinta will return afterward to act as a scout for us in the Southern Passage.”

“With coloring like his, will he not be seen?” Linwyn asked.

Iarasinta turned to her, sensing she was speaking of him. Iarion translated Linwyn’s words into Elvish.

The Sky Elf smiled and focused his blue eyes inward. Linwyn gasped as the coloring of his skin, hair and wings shifted in the light to match his surroundings. Even at close range, knowing the elf was there, he was difficult to see.

Barlo gave an impressed whistle. “Well that’s handy.”

“The
Sintadar
can use their connection with the Quenya to bend the light on their bodies,” Iarion translated Iarasinta’s explanation. “He says, ‘We do not enjoy being easy targets. But now I must leave if I am to deliver this message and return. Farewell.’” The Sky Elf made another bow before showing himself out.

“Well, I don’t know about the rest of you,” Barlo said with a yawn, “but I feel much better about our situation.” The others nodded their agreement.

After the other two messengers had arrived and departed on their errands, the companions went to bed. Barlo lay on a soft mattress in the room he and Iarion had been given to share. The idea of sleep seemed strange. The sun was starting to rise. But only moments after Barlo’s head hit the pillow, he sank into oblivion.

Hours later, Barlo woke feeling restless. Iarion continued to sleep in his bed across the room. Careful not to wake his friend, Barlo climbed out of bed and tiptoed to the door. He went into the hallway and closed the door softly behind him. The dwarf guessed by the position of the sun it must be around noon. His stomach rumbled its agreement. He decided to go in search of the kitchens.

The dwarf wandered the corridors of Belierumar’s tower. The halls were mostly empty. All the able-bodied citizens were out on the walls, preparing for the coming battle. An expectant hush had fallen over the tower. But Barlo could hear muffled voices, raised in argument, coming from somewhere down the hall. Curious, he followed the sound to the closed doors of the chamber they had relaxed in the night before. He ducked into the shadows of a nearby alcove to listen.

“Linwyn, I forbid you to go on this mad quest!” Lord Eranander shouted. “I need you here. Your people need you here!”

“These people have come to our aid, even when this battle is none of their affair!” Linwyn snapped. “Don’t you think they would rather go on their way and fulfill this ‘mad quest,’ as you call it? A quest that could change the fate of Lasniniar!”

“Elves’ tales! Who are we to meddle in the matters of the Quenya? It is none of our concern.” Lord Eranander paused before continuing in a more controlled voice. “If you are so set on giving our help in exchange, then let your brother go while you stay here with your people. I am certain your friends will understand.”

“You hope if I go without Linwyn I will not return,” Barlo heard Golaron say.

“You have walked in your sister’s shadow long enough. Or do you fear what will happen without her there to rescue you?”

“I will go without Linwyn if she so chooses,” Golaron said. “I have always done everything I could to please you, Father, despite knowing it will never be enough.” His voice was sad.

“You are correct. It is not enough. Unless you can find a way to bring back the woman you stole from me the day you were born, it will never be enough.”

“I am going with them, Father,” Linwyn said. “I must. If not for their aid, we might not win this battle. I gave my word. I will not go back on it. Mother intended for Golaron and I to eventually rule Belierumar together as co-regents. I will not be parted from him now.”

“We have yet to see what will come of their so-called ‘aid.’” Eranander sighed. “Very well. If you are set on going, I will not stop you, though it will grieve me to see you go. But I sense you have other reasons for wanting to go on this journey.”

“Perhaps,” Linwyn said. “But those reasons are my own. Take heart that Golaron and I will do our best to make Belierumar proud in a matter of great importance.”

“I hope for your safe return, my daughter. Golaron.” Lord Eranander acknowledged his son before exiting the room.

Barlo flattened himself against the wall, but the lord passed him without noticing, striding down the hall at a brisk pace. Some brief words too quiet for Barlo to hear were spoken between the twins before Golaron walked out of the room and headed in the opposite direction his father had taken.

Barlo saw what might be his only chance. He ducked inside the room before Linwyn could depart. She sat alone on one of the couches, her head bowed. She seemed lost in thought and did not notice Barlo’s entrance.

Barlo cleared his throat. “Excuse me.” Linwyn looked up at him, startled. “May I have a word with you?”

“Certainly,” she said, recovering quickly. “What is it?”

Barlo sat across from her. He took a deep breath. “We need to talk about Iarion.”

Linwyn’s blue gaze narrowed. “What about Iarion?”

“Come now, lass. I may be a crusty, old dwarf, but I’m not blind. I see the way you look at him.” Barlo gave her a knowing look.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Linwyn said as her cheeks flushed. “And even if I did, I don’t see what business it is of yours.”

“You’re right,” Barlo said. “It isn’t my business. But there are a few things about Iarion you should know.”

“If you’re going to tell me about him and the Light Elf, don’t bother. I have eyes, you know.”

“What are you talking about? Iarion and Silvaranwyn?” Barlo shook his head. “No, no. You’ve got it all wrong. That’s just my point. The success of this quest is crucial for Iarion. All his long life, he’s searched for a way to connect with the Quenya. This may be his only chance. It’s all he can focus on. He has no attention to spare for much else, if you catch my meaning. Reuniting the Quenya is the center of his world right now.”

“So he and Silvaranwyn aren’t…”

“No! She’s just going through some tough times, being away from her home and the Quenya, and all. She talks to Iarion because he’s the only other person who might understand.”

“She’s weak.” Linwyn sniffed.

“Don’t be so quick to judge. I believe there’s a lot more to Silvaranwyn than you realize.” Barlo sighed. “But back to Iarion. I think you should listen to your father and stay here. If you come with us, it will only bring you pain.”

“You heard us argue?” Linwyn shrugged. “His feelings about Golaron are completely irrational. My brother and I go everywhere together. I could never watch him go off on this journey without me. I think I can handle being ignored.”

“That won’t be the worst of it, I’m afraid.” Barlo tried to choose the words that had the best chance of getting through to the determined young woman.

“As I said, Iarion has lived a long time. There are parts of his past even I don’t know everything about.” Barlo blushed, hoping she would take his meaning.

“He has taken lovers,” Linwyn said.

Barlo nodded. “He’s hardly celibate. He’s widely traveled. As we move north, it will only be a matter of time before we run into members of Iarion’s past. Are you willing to face that?”

“I am no coward!”

Barlo held up his hands, forestalling her. “I only want to spare you some pain. As I said, I’ve seen the way you look at him and I know him better than almost anyone. He’ll hurt you without even realizing it.”

“I gave my word, dwarf, and I intend to keep it, so spare me your concern.” Her eyes locked with his. “I am going with you and there is nothing you can say to change my mind.”

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