The Awakening (38 page)

“By the First, it is getting hot,” Clovis remarked after scrambling into his saddle. The perspiration was already beading up on his forehead.

“Follow me,” Alemar said. “If we track the path of the running water, we will surely reach the Pass of the Righteous. It was the lowest point on this side of the mountain, and everything should flow to it eventually.”

The three elves carefully navigated the hills and gullies, winding their way down the side of the cliff. The air grew warmer and the rush of water increased with each step that they took.

“I think I recognize this area,” Giles remarked, looking back at the rocks behind him. “We cannot have much further to go,” he said. “The terrain is starting to flatten out.”

They walked carefully down, leading their horses away from the gathering pools of liquid. Had it not been for the thick mist created by the melting snow, they would have been able to see more clearly ahead. As it was, their vision was limited to no more than six or eight feet in any one direction. Alemar led Shira down a winding pathway and around the outcropping of a large rock that must have previously been completely obscured by snow.

As soon as she cleared the stone obstruction, an incredible scene revealed itself before them. The former Pass of the Righteous, once flat and frozen, had been transformed into an enormous sea of blue liquid, now churning and frothing before them. Great chunks of ice continued to fall from the surrounding cliffs, crashing into the deep azure water and sending geysers of freezing spray in all directions. Stretched out in front of them, a ribbon-like arch spanned the seething expanse, perhaps six feet wide at the most, beginning just below where they now stood and continuing on until their eyes lost it in the distant fog. The frozen wasteland had melted away around it leaving only this narrow bridge of ice, that glistened and sparkled in the fractured sunlight. Giant droplets of water dripped from its bottom into the sea below, as the warm air continued to wreak its havoc upon all that still remained frozen.

The three travelers stood abreast of one another, on the very edge of the precipice, staring with disbelief at the only remaining pathway ahead.

“If not for this, we would be marooned here,” Alemar said, staring wide-eyed at their only means of escape.

“Are we really going to have to walk across it?” Giles asked the others.

“Unless you would rather swim, I see no other alternative,” Clovis replied, shifting uneasily in his saddle.

“Look down, my friends. I do not believe that swimming is an option,” Alemar remarked, pointing to the water below.

The unsettled spirits of the army of Iscaron, trapped for countless tiels beneath the frozen water, had finally been released. The liquid below seethed with bodies, countless arms reached upward, as thousands of clamoring soldiers made their way to the shore. They bellowed and struggled, swimming and climbing over each other in their haste to reach the living creatures on the rocks above them.

“If we do not cross here, they will be upon us very soon,” Clovis said, as they could clearly see that they were the reason for the hastened advance of the undead.

Slowly and steadily the soldiers, with their faces white and mottled and their lips a frozen blue, swam toward Alemar and her friends. It would be only a matter of minutes before they reached the point just below where they presently stood.

“Will the ice hold us?” Clovis asked, looking circumspectly at the seemingly delicate span.

“What choice have we but to try?” Alemar replied, as she lead Shira carefully onto the bridge. “Follow me, but not too closely. We should spread our weight out somewhat,” she called back. “Lucky for us our horses are still shod. The spikes will help them to grip.”

Clovis stepped up onto the promontory of ice next, and then he began to walk slowly and guardedly behind Alemar.

“Do not wait too long,” he called back to Giles.

“Have no fear on that account,” Giles replied, holding his horse back forcefully, just as the first of the ancient soldiers started to drag their dripping bodies, clothed in rusted armor and hung with debris from the sea, out onto the shoreline nearby.

The bridge held their weight, and Alemar gained a bit more confidence as she walked further out.

“It seems solid enough. But be careful, and do not look down,” she admonished her friends.

“Alicea,” they heard a deep and anguished voice call out. “Alicea, my daughter. Do not leave me.”

The spirit of Iscaron had raised himself out of the water and onto the rocks just before the ribbon of ice. Alemar turned her head backward and she saw him, forlorn and aggrieved, standing alone and tortured. His arms were outstretched and his face was etched with torment, as he called out to her. His breath as it left his blue lips, froze solid as he spoke, as if his very essence had turned to ice.

“Hurry, Giles,” she yelled to her comrade.

“Alicea,” the voice pleaded. “Beloved. Wait… please,” he implored.

Alemar hesitated and turned her head so she could look behind her.

“Keep going,” Giles urged. “Do not waver now. Close your ears, Alemar.”

“My darling child. It is a miracle. You are alive. Do not leave me here alone again,” he beseeched her.

As he walked, the ground froze solid beneath his treads. The mere touch of his body caused everything near it to harden.

Her heart reached out to him, and she could ignore his pleas no longer. The Princess stopped in her tracks, pivoted Shira around carefully, practically forcing her onto her hind legs in order to navigate the narrow bridge, and then she deftly walked right past Clovis and past Giles until she was standing directly in front of the spirit of her ancient relative.

“I am Alemar, daughter of Whitestar, King of Eleutheria. I am not your daughter,” she called to him.

He reached out his hands which were hung with seaweed. His skin was decayed and rotting as it thawed in the hot air.

“Alicea. I left you behind to die. I was trapped here by the Lord of Darkness. I could not return,” he cried. “How is it that you are alive? Are you a spirit too?” he asked, not listening.

“I am not your daughter, Iscaron,” Alemar repeated. “But Alicea did not die because of you. She recovered from her illness. You did not forsake her,” Alemar yelled. “She forgave you for not returning. But she lived, Iscaron. She lived.”

“You are not my daughter?” he asked confused. “But you know of her? She lived? My daughter lived?” he asked in disbelief. “Does she still?”

“No, she is long dead now. But she lived a fruitful and glorious life, and she bore children, and they, too, had children. She became Queen of Eleutheria, the Ice Queen. I am Alemar, your great, great, great, great, granddaughter. I am evidence that she did not die.”

Iscaron could not understand all that was being told to him, but a look of recognition was clear upon his face.

“She lived,” he said to himself. “My beautiful Alicea lived. She did not die because I failed to return to her,” Iscaron said as if in a trance. He then turned his eyes upon Alemar once again. “How long have we been imprisoned here?”

“One hundred tiels, at least,” Alemar said.

“Had it not been for Caeltin D’Are Agenathea, I would have returned to see my daughter alive,” he said to himself, his enmity growing stronger by the second. “I have anguished here for so long. I have suffered unimaginable pain, and my soldiers have shared my suffering. I thought my daughter died because of me. I thought I killed my only child, my darling Alicea,” he cried.

“She was a hero,” Alemar quickly spoke. “She was loved and revered by all of our race. I have always wanted to be just like her, ever since I was a little girl,” Alemar admitted, and she impulsively thrust her arm out toward him.

“Do not touch me,” he warned. “Anything that touches my skin will freeze and die. Beware— We have become like the ice we lived beneath for so long,” he explained. Backing up a step so that he was not too near the others, he continued to speak. “What you tell me brings me great joy,” Iscaron said. “You have freed our bodies from this frozen tomb, and you have freed my soul from eternal anguish and despair, though we still carry the curse of Caeltin in our touch,” he said, bowing to Alemar.

“It was not I who caused the ice to melt and released you,” Alemar avowed. “The very same one who imprisoned you has turned nature upside down around us. Caeltin has warmed the air and heated the soil beneath our foundations in order to destroy us and to destroy Eleutheria itself. He is the one who has inadvertently freed you from your prison,” Alemar confessed.

“Ah, but it is you who has freed us from despair. Our prison was so much more than a mere physical one,” Iscaron said, bowing again. “We are in debt to you for now and for always, granddaughter, and to your two friends here as well,” he said, pointing to Giles and Clovis. “You have given us the knowledge, the lack of which has confined us to a prison of unbelievable torment and pain,” the King proclaimed. “You are my flesh and blood, and I will repay you. I swear to it!” he concluded, and then he turned his back on Alemar.

Iscaron gathered his army around him, on the shores of the sea, at the base of the mountain, and he spoke to them in the ancient tongue. He bade them rise up from the chilly waters and march with him to Sedahar, to the city of their persecutor, the home of the Dark Lord.

“Our spirits will find peace only when we avenge ourselves upon the Evil One who caused us to suffer here, bereft of knowledge, far from our homes and loved ones, who imprisoned us under this accursed sea of ice! The same demon who seeks now to destroy our children’s children and our own ancient home,” he declared. “Follow me, soldiers of Eleutheria, so that our souls may rest at last! When our frozen hearts release themselves upon the heat of Sedahar, then and only then will we be free!”

The warriors dragged themselves one by one from the sea and stood before their King. After they had all assembled, Iscaron turned once more toward Alemar, Clovis and Giles. His expression was one of sadness, and he bent his head before he spoke.

“May we accompany you back to Eleutheria, Princess? May we see our beloved city once again before we depart forevermore?” he asked her.

Without having to think, Alemar nodded.

“I hope you know what you are doing, Princess,” Giles said in a hushed voice from behind her.

Alemar rose up tall. “They will not harm anyone,” Alemar replied. “There is no evil amongst them.”

She led Shira back up the icy bridge, and solemnly began to walk across it once again. Giles and Clovis followed behind, and the entire army, led by Iscaron, slowly made their way to the foot of the span. They began their procession behind the three brave elves, two abreast, an endless line of lost souls who had been found again, innocent prisoners who had finally been freed, woebegone soldiers who would soon suffer no more.

Alemar looked back over the heads of her friends at the remarkable scene behind them. She reached for her belt once again, just to reassure herself that the pouch the Seedkeepers had entrusted her with was still there, secure and intact. She smiled when her fingers clasped it. Proudly she lifted her chin and proceeded to lead this unearthly procession of her long lost ancestors across the ribbon of ice and onward toward their precious home; toward Eleutheria.

Chapter Forty-two

Elsinestra walked expectantly over to the heavy, wooden door, unlatched it and then slowly pulled it open. Her husband stood before her, his eyes serious and his face solemn and etched with concern. Treestar bowed deeply and she stepped to the side, allowing him to enter.

The King ceremoniously stepped to the middle of the room and stopped at the foot of the table where the boy lay, unmoving. The air in the chamber was heavy and damp, and the sun battled for space with the thick clouds that were coagulating ominously overhead. Occasionally, a bright beam of light would break through the dense cover and illuminate a portion of the floor, exposed as it was to the sky above.

Filaree Par D’Avalain stepped over the threshold next. Her long hair was tied back, and her tanned skin shone healthy and clear. She wore leggings of green suede, and a tunic of black silk that was cinched at the waist by a belt, intricately woven out of green and black cloth and secured by a delicately carved silver buckle. The golden ring inside her blouse hung heavily upon its chain, and she fought against its weight to remain upright as she walked. Respectfully, she followed the King and stopped beside the table, which was swathed in a simple, white satin cloth, upon which the unconscious boy lay. His head rested peacefully upon a heavily embroidered pillow.

Cairn of Thermaye was the next to enter the Chamber of the Stars. His yellow eyes shone brightly, in stark contrast to his pale skin and hairless pate. He wore a simple gown of brown cloth, hooded and loose, that hung nearly to the floor. A braid of hemp secured the waist. His feet were shod in sandals of leather, and his clothing was unadorned. He took his place next to Filaree.

Dark and startlingly handsome, Robyn dar Tamarand was the last to walk into the room. He closed the door behind him, and they could all clearly hear the seals set, securing the chamber from any and all who might attempt to enter. Robyn’s long and graceful fingers protruded from his blouse of white silk which hung open loosely at the neck. He wore pants of black leather, high black boots and an ebony belt tooled in silver and studded with small gems. His hair hung down upon his shoulders, swept back from his broad forehead. Slowly, he walked to the table whereupon Davmiran lay, and stood opposite Filaree and Cairn.

Elsinestra laid her hand atop Adain’s arm and took her own place at the boy’s head, while her nephew stood inconspicuously next to her. She surveyed the faces of each of the three who stood at Davmiran’s side. A solemn hush settled over everyone, as they gazed upon the unconscious boy. With his eyes closed and his hair pulled back, it was hard to believe that the young man before them was not their friend Tomas. The resemblance was so exact, it was as if they already knew him.

The Queen allowed them to reflect for a few minutes before she addressed them. “It has been a long and arduous journey that you have endured in order to be among us today. Neither you nor we expected to be standing here, in the Chamber of the Stars, with the heir of Gwendolen unconscious before us. The fabric weaves of its own will,” she began.

The rumblings of thunder could be heard in the distance as she spoke, and they were growing louder with each new crash. The open roof revealed the thickening clouds ever more clearly to them all. Time was growing short.

“Our world is being threatened by a force so evil and so desperate that it is hard for any of us to fully understand it. Nevertheless, we have been blessed with possibility once again. Though the trees die all around us, life continues on. Davmiran Dar Gwendolen, surely the one the books speak of, has been given to us to protect and to educate, to train and to teach. But first, he must be awakened from the bliss of his unconsciousness, the innocence of his insensate state. Do you have the ring, Filaree of Avalain?” she asked.

“Yes, your Highness, I do,” Filaree answered, and she reached under her blouse, and pulled the chain carefully over her head.

The small circle of gold glowed brightly in her hand, as she held it expectantly before the group.

“Let the ceremony begin,” Elsinestra said, bowing her head slightly and stepping back a pace from the table.

Filaree had not allowed herself to think for too long about what she was going to do with the ring when the time was finally upon her. She believed that it would come to her during the moment, and she relaxed her mind as best she could in anticipation.

Gently raising the boy’s shirt, she slid the ring off of its chain and placed it carefully upon Dav’s abdomen. She then carefully laid the delicate chain on the pillow beside his head. The runes upon his skin immediately flared brightly as the gold touched him, as if they were alive. They seemed to lift themselves from his body, encircling the ring itself and swirling inside it and out, welcoming it in their own magical way. Everyone watched in utter silence as the ancient symbols of his name spun rhythmically, and glowed in multicolored hues, dancing joyfully all around. In minutes, they seemed to disappear completely, though they could all now see that the outside of the ring itself had been etched delicately with the very symbols that, since Baladar named him upon his arrival in Pardatha and until just moments ago, had scarred Davmiran’s skin.

The words came to Filaree unbidden. “
Palambrea corte sin. Eto amicale lefemtor. Sisdiachor.
”

A funnel of white light burst from the center of the ring into the sky above, breaking through the cover of clouds and extending high into the heavens. The entire room blazed brightly, illuminated by the shimmering vortex. Filaree reached out her hand to Elsinestra to her left and to Cairn on her right. Instinctively, Cairn then grasped the hand of the King, who had already taken Robyn’s. Robyn completed the circle simultaneously, holding the Queen’s left hand in his own. As soon as their fingers were all entwined, fine tendrils of sapphire colored light spread out from the ring toward each of the five encircling the heir. They wrapped themselves over each pair of hands, spinning a delicate and lustrous cocoon around them, and warming each participant thoroughly and completely.

“
Keta perkata crea externatior. Domatri nee beluthra
,” Filaree spoke, trancelike.

They could all hear a rushing sound fill the chamber, as if a strong wind had been trapped within the walls and was desperately searching for a means to escape the confines of the premises. As they watched, each pair of eyes jumping from the ring to the boy, the air crackled and flashed, seemingly alive itself. Tiny sparks flickered all around, exploding silently and then disappearing and making it difficult to see clearly. It soon appeared as if they were looking into an opaque glass, which refracted the light and made everything behind it blurry and unclear. Dav’s face too had become obscured behind this lambent barrier.

The light that encircled their hands turned a deeper blue, and they all felt themselves being pulled toward the boy’s prostrate body. Soon each of the five, with their hands still entwined by blue fire and grasping one another as if they were inextricably attached, was touching the boy’s flesh. The noise grew louder and louder, drowning out even the sound of their own breath, and everything appeared to be spinning uncontrollably before them. An incredibly strong feeling of vertigo overcame each of the participants, and they could no longer feel the floor beneath their feet, nor see the walls around them.

Their hands grew warmer and warmer, and they were all overcome with the most amazing feelings of comfort and well-being, beatitude and bliss. All sense of time and space had vanished entirely and they all basked in the glory of the moment, lost in the numbing rush of joy and happiness. Elation filled their hearts and uplifted their souls.

Instantly, it was all gone; the lights, the noise, everything! The room was back to normal, and the five participants stood, hand in hand, staring at the wide open, blue eyes of the heir. The chain hung around his neck and the ring lay peacefully upon his chest, suspended from it. For the first time since the casting, Davmiran moved. His vision slowly swept the room, and lingered for only a moment on each of those encircling him. And then he smiled.