The Five Elements (23 page)

"It seems you know something of knives after all," Ensel Rhe said.

Aaron inserted the knife into its sheath, then returned it to his lap.

"You asked about the krill," Ensel Rhe said. "They do kill trespassers on sight, as much to protect their lands as to maintain their way of life. Outside influence is, to them, taboo. Despite this, they permitted—nay, I should say tolerated—my presence amongst them for a time. One krill in particular, a claw master named Yuma, took me in as his student. The things you spoke of—jumping from the balcony and such—these abilities are not learned. Not all of them, leastwise. The krill are students of spirituality and balance. To that end, they seek to make themselves more than they are. I took part in some of these rituals. The end result was that I was… changed."

"But why?"

"So that, someday…"

The wind's howl sharpened, and the pounding rain reminded them of their current circumstances.

"On nights such as these, perhaps it is best that such tales remain untold."

Disappointed, Aaron nevertheless nodded in agreement.

"Yet," Ensel Rhe said, "there is still one tale I would like to hear… from you."

"From me?" Aaron straightened. "Oh. You want to know what Master Elsanar and I were working on."

Ensel Rhe waited.

"Mostly, we were trying to extend the Principle of Confluence."

The eslar returned a look if not of ignorance than at least one lacking in knowledge.

Aaron explained. "The Principle of Confluence states that when two identical energy sources come together they combine to form a single, more powerful energy source. We were trying to break new ground by studying what happens when two or more
disparate
energy sources come together. Typically, they do one of two things. They either cancel each other out or—"

"React violently."

"Yes. But we found that under certain circumstances those sources of energy, though different, can be blended into a single, more powerful source as if they were the same. So far, we'd only demonstrated this in the laboratory on a small scale. Even then the combinatory effect didn't last long. The next steps included stabilizing the reaction and eventually attempting a larger experiment in the field. I was spending much of my time taking attunement readings and researching the effect of minute—"

"So why would anyone want to stop such research?" The question was asked with a passive tone and a drifting gaze as if Ensel Rhe was merely thinking out loud and not expecting an answer. But then he did look at Aaron. "You were working towards what could potentially be a very powerful energy source."

"A very, very powerful energy source. One potentially without limits. Or, at least, not the conventional limits we're accustomed to. Take sorcery, for example. A sorcerer's power comes from within. The spirit, or soul energy, is transformed into magical energy and a spell is cast. The strength of the spell is directly proportional to the strength of the caster. But, even still, such strength has limitations. If a sorcerer draws upon too much of his energy, he falters or dies. There is a thing called a Joining, where one sorcerer draws magical energy from another. That is what Master Elsanar and the others were doing on Regrok when…" Images of the over-taxed wizards, burned out from their own expenditure, flashed across his mind. He swallowed, doing his best to purge them from his memory as he went on. "But that's a case of similar energy sources and would never work if, say, someone tried to combine the energy from sorcery with alchemy. But our theory stated that if the attunement of disparate energy sources could be altered so that the attunement of all sources is identical, then those varied energy sources are no longer disparate, but the same. If true, then what this means is that there would be nothing to stop a sorcerer, for example, from drawing upon any other power source to fuel his magic. Alchemical, electrical, capacitive—"

"Elemental."

Aaron paused at that. "Yes. Elemental, too."

That brought a silence between them that lasted until Ensel Rhe said, "Though Elsanar seemed convinced as to why this Erlek Abn Nee wanted you dead, now that I have some idea as to what you were working on, I'll admit I share your doubts concerning the old wizard's conclusion. Nefarious folk do not often kill the people working on such things. They'd want you to at least finish first. Unless he saw such research as competition."

Aaron was just taking that last part in when a sound he thought he'd never hear again rose above the rampage of wind and rain. A single howl that, like before, started alone, but was soon joined by others.

Neither of them breathed. For the span of several heartbeats, they only listened. Then Ensel Rhe shouldered his pack and stood in one motion.

"Come. If they find us here, we will be trapped."

Aaron stood on legs that were far from rested. "But how—how are they tracking us? Their master is dead. Isn't he?"

"Yes, he is dead." The eslar's tone did not inspire confidence.

Aaron was allowed a moment to fasten his cloak securely. Just as he was about to hoist his pack over a shoulder Master Rhe instructed him to leave it. Then, with Ensel Rhe in the lead, they left the cave to flee across the barren, rocky terrain of the Upper Shelf.

The night remained a place best left to those who'd no desire for comfort or warmth or any sort of pleasantness, for Aaron's clothes provided little protection from the cutting wind and almost instantly the rain soaked him through until even his toes, buried deep within his shoes, were wet and cold. They heard the dogs in the distance. Aaron found it impossible to tell from which direction they sounded, though Ensel Rhe, clearly more prescience, made slight adjustments to their course at regular intervals. Aaron trusted that such adjustments led them further from their pursuers and so he held his cloak tight about him, clenched his teeth against the cold, and followed without complaint.

In time, the rain lessened, though the wind did not. Morning brought with it a dense fog that shielded nearly everything from view. The rock beneath their feet turned to hard-packed earth. Vegetation remained scarce, though as the hour must have approached noon, they chanced upon an old oak. Ensel Rhe permitted them to stop beneath its wide branches but briefly, for all too soon they were moving again.

The land rose from there, in gradual fashion, but enough that they soon found themselves above the fog. Dark clouds overhead washed away most of the sun's light. No sooner had they freed themselves from the mist when it began to rain again. They spent the night huddled beneath a rocky overhang, not sleeping, but at least no longer walking. Further consolation that they'd detected no further sign of the hounds must have eased Aaron's mind enough that he dozed, for the next thing he knew Ensel Rhe was shaking his shoulder to wake him. He opened weary eyes to see that morning had come and that it had ushered in no change at all in the weather.

They had a quick, cold bite, then set out. The terrain rose and fell now in long, shallow hills growing thick with wild grasses and thorny shrubs. A light mist teased at their legs. They swept through it like ships bolstered by heavy winds, stopping only when they heard the triumphant howls of the hounds announcing that they'd found their prey once more. This time, they sounded so close that, as one, Aaron and Ensel Rhe turned. Aaron spared a quick, sidelong glance at Master Rhe. The eslar stood so still it looked as if he'd stopped breathing. The only movement he made was to place his hand upon the hilt of his khatesh. Then, from their vantage point upon the crest of a hill, they saw the dogs emerge from the mist. They were spread out in a line, a dozen of them, black as night and running with the speed of charging destriers. Aaron and Ensel Rhe would have turned and run right then, except their attention was drawn to the lone figure running behind their line. Too far to make out any details, there was nevertheless no mistaking his identity.

"That's impossible," Aaron said, just able to make out the horned helmet now. "I saw you kill him."

Ensel Rhe drew his sword in a flash of steel.

It was an instinctive reaction—it must be, Aaron thought—for the eslar had no hope of fighting the houndmaster and his pack out in the open. They'd tear him to pieces.

"What are you going to do with that?" Aaron asked.

"Kill this demon once and for all."

"That didn't work too well the first time."

Stark white eyes burned into Aaron.

"I-I mean, he's still—"

"This time, I'll take his head."

"Maybe you will. But what about the dogs? You can't fight them all." Ensel Rhe's attention did not waver. Aaron tried a different tactic. "How much further to Ansanom's manor?"

"One, perhaps two leagues."

Close enough that they might just make it. As long as they stopped wasting time and got moving
now
. Ensel Rhe came to the same conclusion, for without sheathing his sword he whirled around, grabbed hold of Aaron, and ran.

They went between two hills, up another, and then at the bottom of a long, shallow valley they spied Wildemoore Manor, still standing and not devastated like Norwynne. Set amongst the mist and clouded by the rain, the place was bulky and cylindrical, like a tower, but only as tall as a three or four storey house with great eye-browed windows, latticed balconies, and a spired top. Unmarked by banners or insignia of any kind, it was dark and dour, with not the slightest sign of activity about the place. Another structure was nearby—a barn, most likely—but it was as lifeless as the manor.

Running, staggering at times, they propped each other up, willing the other on, for even Ensel Rhe's breathing was labored now, this sudden explosion of energy finally chipping away at even his indomitable resolve. Behind them, the hounds signaled their proximity. They were too loud, too close. Aaron felt more than saw those dozen shapes enter the valley so close behind them, bounding in pursuit until, of a sudden, there was no longer any distance between hunter and hunted. In that instant, the pack's leader lunged for them. Ensel Rhe was ready. He let go his hold on Aaron, shoving him forward as he half-turned and sent his shoulder into the hound. They went down together in a rolling, tangled mass.

Aaron kept running, his only focus on reaching the manor. For its safety, but also to make Ansanom aware of their presence and their predicament, for only the sorcerer could save them now. To that end, Aaron shouted as loud as his heaving lungs allowed. He managed only two such cries when, with only fifty paces separating him from the manor, he heard a snarl directly behind him. There was no time for thought, no time for anything except to dive to the ground. His final cry for help was suffocated by a mouthful of dirt and grass as overhead, jaws snapped empty air. Aaron gained his knees only to see that the hound had sailed right over him, for now it was there in front, facing him.

One look into those blood-red eyes and Aaron was frozen in place with fear. The hound was no hound at all, but some dark abomination come up from the Pit, with forked tongue, hair darker than night, and eyes that must reflect the fires of Hell. Each footfall of the creature as it slunk forward left behind a smoking paw print. Saliva dripping from its open mouth shriveled blades of grass. Try though he might, Aaron could not even retreat from its approach.

But then his hand, already poised at his belt, touched the hilt of the knife given to him by Ensel Rhe. That touch alone did something, for in the next instant the knife was clear of its sheath and Aaron stood. The hand that held the knife shook so badly Aaron very nearly dropped it, but he managed to maintain his grip even as he lifted its point. His other hand went to his chest to firmly grasp the tooth that still hung about his neck. Grabbing hold of it did nothing remarkable.

The dog eyed the small blade, but it did not stop its advance. Aaron had no choice but to yield ground. He stopped when he heard a deep-throated growl behind him. Turning, he came face-to-face with a second hound. Unable to move forward or back, Aaron positioned himself so that he could shift his gaze—and the point of his knife—from one hound to the other. He waited for one of them to attack. Instead, they both did.

Thoughts of using his knife were forgotten as Aaron threw his arms over his head and collapsed to the ground. Over him, the dogs collided in mid-air, then quickly fell to the ground in a snarling mass of fangs and fur. Aaron rolled away from them, lurching to his feet. He stumbled for the manor, risking only a single glance over his shoulder. He expected to see the hounds bounding after him. Instead, as if quarreling over a scrap of food, they'd turned on each other. Aaron ran. He made it ten steps when barking from behind signaled the hounds' awareness of his escape. They came, loping, bounding, reaching Aaron in seconds. One hit him from behind, slamming him to the ground as claws tore through his clothing and into the flesh beneath. The breath was knocked from him, stifling his instinctive cry. Burning saliva, dripping from jaws that drew closer by inches, ran down his neck. Aaron closed his eyes. Though his hand somehow still held tight to the knife, he could do nothing but wait for the end.

Then there was a thump, come from somewhere up high, a whoosh of air, and the world around Aaron exploded. The hound was hurled away and Aaron found himself heaved into the air only to slam right back down so that his breath, barely recovered, was forced from him again. Clumps of dirt showered down. Aaron wrapped his arms about his head as more thumps sounded. With each one came a corresponding whoosh as some projectile streaked through the air and then a thunk as the missile hit home. More than one hound let out a resounding yelp as they did so. It lasted half a minute, then the assault stopped. Aaron uncovered his face and opened his eyes. He immediately saw Ensel Rhe standing over him just as the eslar hauled him to his feet. Though Master Rhe's jacket was torn, the rest of him appeared intact. His khatesh remained drawn. The moment Aaron was able to stand on his own, the sword was joined by the eslar's other, shorter blade. Aaron saw the reason right away. The hounds remained, though they were a disorganized, rattled lot now. Many staggered, or whined without moving. Several lay on the ground. While these did not appear injured, they also seemed in no hurry to get up. Only a trio of the dogs remained unaffected at all by the assault of Ansanom's weapon. With the focus of hunters, these three padded forward, their hellish eyes locked only on their prey. Their master followed, striding through the wreckage of his pack with his terrible butcher's blade drawn. Ensel Rhe and Aaron stepped back steadily until they were at the door to Wildemoore Manor. Ensel Rhe slammed the hilt of his sword against the wood, yelling for someone inside to open it. Finally, they heard a lock come undone at the other side. The moment the knob clicked, Ensel Rhe leveled his shoulder at the door and plunged himself and Aaron through. A second after they'd stumbled inside, Aaron heard the door slam shut and a bar rammed home. Then everything went silent.