Source Of The River (7 page)

A
s Darvil was
preparing to leave for town, he noticed a small group of dwarves crossing the
field to his home. There were three of them, but from a distance he could not
tell who they were. He rushed back to the farmhouse, hoping the men weren’t
looking for a fight. Kaiya’s abilities were strange to him, but he knew she was
capable of inflicting great harm. He had witnessed her powers occasionally as
she practiced, and her magic was terrifyingly strong at times.

The three men paused outside the door to converse,
giving Darvil the time he needed to reach them. He was relieved to recognize
two councilmen, Anid and Gerry. They were known to him and had always been
fair-minded dwarves. He was less pleased to see that Rudi, foreman of the
mines, had come as well. Rudi was known to be a hothead, and he never seemed to
know when to shut his mouth.

“Mornin’,” Darvil said to the men. “What brings
you out here?”

Anid stepped off the front porch first, a friendly
smile on his lips. The majority of his face was hidden among fluffy white
eyebrows and a partially tamed white beard. He reached out to shake Darvil’s hand
and said, “Good morning, Darvil. There’s some trouble in town, and Rudi
insisted we check with your girl about it. Gerry and me came to keep the
peace.”

“Where’s the witch?” Rudi asked impatiently.

Darvil glared at the mine foreman. He was in no
mood to listen to his daughter being insulted, especially on his own land.

“We don’t need any of that,” Gerry said, chiding
the dwarf. “We’re going to keep this civil.” He reached for Darvil’s hand as
well, gripping it firmly and looking him in the eye. Gerry was a bit younger
than Anid, and his yellow beard was well groomed and partially braided.

Hearing the voices outside, Kassie stepped out
onto the porch, followed closely by Kaiya. Upon seeing the men, Kaiya knew they
had come for her. They did not frighten her, and she stepped in front of her
mother, holding her head proudly in the air.

“You’re here to speak to me, I take it.” She
stepped down from the porch and looked up at the three men. Rudi glared openly,
not bothering to conceal his contempt for Kaiya.

“Perhaps we should all go inside and discuss a few
things,” Anid suggested.

“We can settle it here,” Rudi grunted. “Take the
spell off, witch, or else!” He was unarmed at the insistence of his companions,
but he clenched his fists as he spoke.

“This one should learn to shut the hole in his
face,” Kaiya stated boldly. If these men had come for a fight, she would give
them one they’d never forget. She had never used her magic to harm any living
being, but to defend her family and her own life, she would not hold back.

“Let’s not be hostile,” Anid said, holding up both
hands. “We want to speak to you is all. No one is here to hurt anyone.”

“Kaiya,” Gerry began, “you are the only person
nearby with magic. We are hoping you can answer some questions for us, and then
we will leave you in peace.”

Kaiya looked to her mother, whose eyes were wide
with apprehension. Darvil seemed more suspicious than nervous, but he nodded
his approval to Kaiya.

“You can come in,” he said, “but keep things
civil.”

Without another word, the three men headed inside
the farmhouse, followed by Kaiya and her parents. Each of them took a seat
around the kitchen table, the only place in the house big enough to hold
everyone.

“Let me start off with a more thorough
explanation,” Gerry said. “Today the miners have not been able to enter the
southwest facing cave. Anyone who enters is immediately attacked as if being
strangled by an unseen hand.”

Kassie gasped, putting her hands over her mouth.
She stared at Gerry and did not look in Kaiya’s direction.

“Six more dwarves have fallen ill, and there is still
no sign of Jeb. He disappeared shortly after falling ill.” Gerry searched
Kaiya’s expression for any hint that she knew something, but her face remained unchanging
as he spoke.

“What does any of this have to do with my
daughter?” Darvil asked, growing impatient.

Anid and Gerry exchanged glances.

“A cloaked figure was seen leaving the cave last
night,” Anid said. “It appeared to be a female.”

“This is ridiculous,” Darvil said, jumping to his
feet.

Kaiya touched his arm to calm him, and he once
again took his seat.

“It was me,” Kaiya admitted. “I sensed the magic,
and I thought I could help.”

“I told you it was the witch!” Rudi pointed at
Kaiya. “This girl is trouble. She’s cursed the mine, and she needs to be
punished!”

“You come near my daughter, and you won’t live to
tell about it.” Darvil’s brown eyes were serious as he glared at Rudi.

“We don’t want any trouble here, and Rudi is not
the one in charge,” Anid said. “We came only to find out the truth so we might
put our minds at ease. No one thinks Kaiya is a witch.”

“Nor do we believe her capable of harming anyone,”
Gerry added.

“I went there to see if I could help,” Kaiya
declared. “That’s all. There is an evil presence in the cave, and it is far
stronger than me. I don’t know how to get rid of it.”

“If you do learn of anything that might help,
Kaiya, please come to us first,” Gerry said. “We don’t want any
misunderstandings, and your safety could be in jeopardy. Not everyone in our
town is as open-minded as Anid and myself.”

Kaiya nodded, trusting in the validity of his
words. She would have to stay away from town indefinitely or risk getting into
a fight with ignorant miners.

“Do you know any type of healing magic?” Anid
asked. “So far there is no treatment to alleviate the miners’ discomfort. Lives
may be lost.”

“I’m sorry, I do not know any healing magic,” she
said.

Medicine was not something that dwarves spent a
lot of time studying. A man was either strong enough to overcome an illness on
his own or he wasn’t. They focused mainly on crude surgeries and folk remedies,
most of which did little to help the sick. The women had a few effective
remedies for their children, but those would prove inadequate against a magical
illness.

The men rose to leave, and Darvil saw them to the
door. Kaiya and Kassie remained seated, digesting the news about the miners.

As Darvil returned to the kitchen, he said, “I
wish you’d give up this magic nonsense and settle down. There’s going to be
more trouble if this keeps up.”

“I can’t change what I am, Papa,” Kaiya replied.
“If I can find a way to help, I will do it. Magic is a part of me, and I would
never give it up.” She rose from her seat and headed to the door. Before she
could depart, Darvil grabbed her arm and hugged her.

“It’s you I care about,” he said. “With or without
magic, you’re my little girl.”

D
isappearing
beneath the horizon, the sun bid farewell to the Vale. Myla was busy placing
flowers in Lenora’s hair while Albyn, Lenora’s father, lit the blue magical
fire that would illuminate the celebration throughout the evening. A variety of
foods had been prepared, and the peach wine was already begging to flow. Nearly
every adult elf in the Vale was in attendance to celebrate Lenora.

Lenora wore a shimmery white gown along with white
flowers and ribbons upon her hair. As she stepped out among her kinsmen, they
applauded and cheered. Her eyes danced over the crowd, searching the faces of
those who had come to celebrate her special day. River was among them, dressed
in a striking blue robe. Her eyes lingering on him for a moment, she felt
herself begin to blush, and quickly turned her attention back to her parents.

Myla kissed her daughter on both cheeks and
presented her with a gift. She hung a delicate silver medallion wrought with
intricate vines around Lenora’s neck before stepping back to admire her. Lenora
ran a hand over the medallion’s surface and pressed it to her heart.

“Thank you, Mother,” she said, tears forming in
her eyes. This was her grandmother’s medallion, which Myla had received at her
own Coming of Age Ceremony.

Next, Albyn stepped forward and kissed Lenora on
her forehead. “May the goddess of the forest protect and keep you always.”

In a crystalline soprano, Lenora lifted her voice
in song. She sang sweetly of the elf maiden who transformed herself into a
seabird and flew across the ocean, never to return. Her song had a hypnotic
effect on River as he sat captivated by her voice. A single star appeared in
the sky as she finished her song.

The crowd cheered for Lenora, and now the feast
could commence. Though the inhabitants of the Vale did not consume the flesh of
animals, there was still an abundance of savory foods to be found. The Vale’s
bounty of fruit and nuts provided a range of different flavors and options. The
Westerling Elves were not opposed to sweets, as evidenced by the large number
of dessert items.

Galen paid more attention to the food than
anything. He sat at River’s side, stuffing candies into his mouth. “Great
party,” he said through a mouthful of food.

River shook his head and turned his gaze back to
Lenora. She sat next to her parents, enjoying some of the food herself. River
found he had no appetite this evening. All of his thoughts focused on Lenora as
he temporarily forgot about the next day’s journey.

Some of the elves fired spells into the air,
lighting the sky in a multitude of colors. The magic rained down upon the
party, delighting the assembled guests. Musicians took the stage, playing
stringed instruments and flutes while a slender white-haired elf sang in an
elegant tone.

Galen, who had finally had his fill of eating,
caught the eye of a chestnut-haired elf. She waved slightly with her fingers
and flirted with her dark eyes. Grinning at River, Galen rose from his chair.
“Looks like someone wants to dance,” he declared. He made his way over to the
lady and kissed her hand before leading her to the dance area.

River took a deep breath to calm his nerves.
Lenora still sat between her parents, but he summoned his courage and headed
her direction. Though her parents would disapprove, Lenora had promised him a
dance. After all, she was an adult and capable of choosing a dance partner. Throwing
his cares aside, he bravely stood before Lenora.

“May I have this dance, my lady?” he asked
politely.

Myla and Albyn exchanged uneasy glances, but
Lenora stood, ignoring their obvious displeasure.

“You certainly may,” she replied, taking his hand.

Turning away from Lenora’s parents, River said,
“They seem less than pleased to see me.”

“Don’t worry about them,” she replied. “They’ve
forgotten what it was like to be young.”

She slid her arm in his, and the two proceeded to
the dance floor, where many elves were enjoying the fine music. Lenora wrapped
her arms around River’s neck, and he placed his hands upon her waist. They
moved in time with the soft strumming of a harp, occasionally looking into each
other’s eyes. Though he felt shy and awkward at first, River finally managed to
relax and enjoy the moment.

When the music came to an end, Lenora said, “That
was lovely.”

“I’m afraid I’m not much of a dancer,” he
admitted.

“This is a perfect time to learn,” she replied,
taking his hand once again.

The music switched to a faster pace, and she led
him into the group of dancing elves. They danced as one unit, switching partners
and clapping their hands. Though many of them took less-than-perfect steps, a
good time was had by all.

Shortly after midnight, the crowd began to
disperse. Lenora’s parents had already retired for the night, and she had spent
her time in River’s company without their condescending looks.

Taking one last sip of peach wine, Lenora said, “I
guess we should get some sleep. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”

Though many of the flowers had fallen from her
hair and she seemed tired from all the dancing, Lenora still looked as radiant
as ever to River. Her pale eyes reflected the moonlight, and her white gown
glowed as if by magic.

“I suppose so,” he replied. He was reluctant to
leave her side, even for one night.

Galen joined them as they were saying their
goodbyes, throwing an arm around each of them. The smell of peach wine was
strong on his breath. “I’ve decided,” he said, looking at River. “I’m going to
the mountains with you tomorrow. I’ve always had an affinity for rocks.”

“The more the merrier,” Lenora replied.

“You’re going?” Galen asked, surprised.

“Yes,” she replied with a smile. “The dwarves are
in need of a healer.”

“Well, then,” he began, “we’ll be in fine
company.”

“Indeed we will,” River replied, still gazing at
Lenora.

The clouds rolled in, leaving the Vale in darkness
as the trio departed to rest. The next day would bring them to an unfamiliar
place, where an evil presence awaited them. This night would be spent in
safety, but the future was uncertain.

B
ooks and
scrolls went flying through the air as Telorithan searched the contents of his
library. His immense collection of documents was another thing he took pride
in. Somewhere within these items he would find the spell necessary to allow him
to track the elemental living in the Westerling Vale.

Two servants scrambled to pick up each scroll and
volume as it landed. Any damage to these items would be blamed on them,
regardless of who was truly responsible. They stacked the books carefully,
hoping to avoid a large pileup. If their master’s path was obstructed as he
moved about the library, he would be rather unhappy. Facing Telorithan’s anger
was not something the servants wished to do this day.

Pulling out a dust-covered tome, Telorithan
sneezed loudly. Turning to the servants, he asked, “Is it too difficult for you
to keep this place clean?”

The two servants looked at each other nervously
and hung their heads without responding.

Rising from his knees with the book in hand, he
said, “I expect this room to be spotless when I return, or the two of you will
be melted down into something useful.”

The pair frantically set about cleaning to rid the
library of dust. Telorithan was a man of his word, and his threats were always
taken seriously.

Exiting the library, Telorithan ascended the
spiral staircase to his laboratory. He laid the book open on a long wooden
table and flipped through its pages. This book was one of only five copies in
existence of a five-thousand-year-old tome authored by Master Zarthan, the most
proficient scryer in history. If anyone had a method for tracking an elemental,
it would be him.

Failing to find the information he sought on the
first look, he slammed his fist against the table in frustration. He turned
away from the book and faced the fireplace behind him. With a casual movement
of his finger, a fire roared to life within the hearth. As he stared into the
flames, he realized he had been searching for the wrong thing. He did not need
a new method to track the movements of an elemental. It would be simpler to
find one using fire. Having mastered the flames many years ago, he had used
them to communicate in the past. Chuckling slightly to himself, he realized how
simple the task before him would be.

Flipping through the tome’s pages once again, he
found a section entitled
Scrying with Fire.
All that was required,
besides his own power, were a few cinders from the Red Isle, a gemstone, and an
item to represent the person being viewed. The cinders were simple, as he
always kept those on hand for various magical purposes. Obviously, the gemstone
would be a sapphire. No other gem would suffice for finding a water elemental.
A moment’s thought was all he needed to decide on a third item: a small piece
of driftwood from the shore near his tower would work perfectly. An object that
had spent countless days adrift in the blue would hold enough water memory to
serve his purpose.

His final hurdle would be conquering the distance.
The Westerling Vale was not only across the sea, but it was also a few days’
journey across land. Not to mention it was blocked on one side by mountains and
the other by a river. These obstacles would make the magic harder to achieve.
He was undeterred, however, and confident in his own abilities.

Touching his hand to a small brass sphere on his
mantle, he summoned a servant to his side. With all speed, the elf ran to the
laboratory.

“I require a piece of driftwood,” Telorithan
commanded.

“Right away, Master,” the elf replied, before
running back down the stairs.

The far end of the laboratory was stocked with
ingredients and various items that were used in Telorithan’s experiments. From
one of his many coffers, he chose a small sapphire to feed to the flames. After
a short search, he recovered a glass container full of ash from the Red Isle.
These were the remains of magic created by the most spectacular fire elementals
in all N
ō
l’Deron.
They had unique properties, which were required for various spells and held a
substantial amount of power. If this practice session with a water elemental succeeded,
he would try his hand at binding a fire elemental next. That was the power he
longed for.

The servant returned with a foot-long piece of
driftwood, and he bowed as he presented it to his master. Snatching the item
from the servant’s hand, Telorithan turned his attention back to the fireplace.
The servant backed away slowly, expecting no gratitude to be expressed by his
master. He took a position near the door, in case Telorithan required further
assistance.

Telorithan methodically added the items to the
fire, all the while muttering an inaudible incantation. The flames danced and
sputtered as they received the offering. A soft orange glow filled the room, a
sign that the spell was working.

Holding one hand to his forehead and extending the
other toward the fire, Telorithan closed his eyes and projected his mind into
the flames. As he opened his eyes, he saw the land outside his home pass by,
and the ocean appeared before him. He flew with a bird’s-eye view of the sea,
passing waves and sea spray, until he once again reached land. The landscape passed
by but soon faded. The fire would require more magic to see farther into the
distance.

The smooth amethyst that contained the essence of
the murdered thief sat idly in Telorithan’s pocket. Drawing it up to his eye,
he peered at the elf trapped inside. A mist swirled within, taking the shape of
the dead man’s face. His eyes pleaded with the master sorcerer to release him
from his torment. Without a thought for the imprisoned elf’s suffering,
Telorithan flung the gem into the fire. The thief’s power was now a part of the
spell.

Focusing on the flames once again, the image of
the land became clearer. He passed the edge of the Wrathful Mountains and into
the forest that surrounded the Vale. The sapphire in the flames began to spin,
giving a blue coloration to the fire. To Telorithan’s disappointment, the Vale
was impenetrable. A force resided there that was too powerful to be spied upon.
The Spirit protected the Westerling Elves from all harm, and Telorithan would
not be able to penetrate its defenses from this distance.

Telorithan continued past the Vale and into the
mountains above. A dwarven village came into view, and he felt the presence of
great magic there. This was a curious discovery, as he had never heard of
dwarves practicing any type of magic except rune carving. He wondered if
perhaps there was an earth elemental dwelling among the mountains.

Ending the spell, Telorithan took a seat near the
window and stared out over the sea. At the very least, he knew the spell had
worked. The elemental elf was still present in the Vale. He would either have
to go there and lure it out, or he would have to wait for it to journey from
the protected area. Neither scenario seemed likely. Given the power of the Westerling
Elves, he could not hope to subdue them all long enough to drag the elemental
away. There was a slim chance the elf would leave the area, but he would have
to stay near a vast supply of water in order to maintain his power.

Not yet willing to give up on the idea, he started
to devise a new plan. Surely within his library was information that could
help. He also had the entire university and some powerful friends that he could
coerce into helping him. The matter was not yet settled. He would have this elemental’s
power added to his own.