The Phoenix Ring (The Thunderheart Chronicles Book 1) (27 page)

              “Why don’t you just use a communication crystal?” Timothy asked.

              “Mine hasn’t been working.  I believe that our enemy is somehow using a curse to cancel exact magical frequencies of our crystals, but not their own.”  Bartemus said.

              “The magical what?”

              “Never mind. Just go, Timothy.  Deliver that letter, and god speed.”  The warlock turned and walked towards the shore.

              “Wait, master Bartemus!”  Timothy called after him.  “If you see, Aidan, please don’t tell him you saw me.”

              The old man nodded slowly, and then disappeared into the woods.

“Firebird.  Firebird, the time has come.  Awake.”

              Aidan slowly opened one eye, then another.  He was laying on a mat of deer skin, with a pillow of the same material propping up his head.  The mat was situated on the edge of a small, round room that smelled faintly of mint and some other herbs that Aidan couldn’t identify.  The only light was provided by a large hole in the roof, under which sat a fire pit.  All along the edges of the room lay more deerskin mats.

              A few feet from Aidan sat a thin man, his ears ending in sharp points.

             
No,
Aidan corrected himself,
not a man.  An elf.

              Had he been a human, Aidan would have estimated the elf to be at least fifty years old, though the only indications of his age were his wrinkles and the color of his long, braided hair.  He wore no beard, and carried no cane.  He appeared to be as healthy as a young man, his bright amber eyes alert, and his posture ready to leap into the air at a moment’s notice.

              “Greetings, Firebird.  Welcome to our humble encampment,” the elf said, his voice as deep and ancient as the ocean and at the same time as soft as a cloud.

              “Who are you?  Where am I?” Aidan asked.  He was still a little dazed, but not in any pain.  His body felt stronger than it had since he left Fort Phoenix. 

              “My name is Aeron, chieftain of the elven folk of Gurvinite.  You are resting inside my tent, which lies in the center of our encampment.”

              Aidan slowly sat up.  He instinctively moved his right hand to his left wrist and was surprised to feel no pain.

              The elf smiled “Your arm was easy to fix.  Your friend was a different story.”

             
Aaliyah!

              “Is she okay?”  Aidan asked, quickly sitting up. 

              The elf laughed.  “Yes, your friend is recovering more quickly than I could have possible hoped.  She is strong.  Would you like to see her?”

              Aidan nodded and stood.  As he did, he noticed that he was wearing a tunic made of deerskin.

              “Your cloak has been repaired.  All of your possessions are packed with your griffin.  We knew that you may have to make a hasty departure.”

              Aidan wondered at the hospitality of the elves.  He knew he had never done anything to deserve their compassion.  He silently vowed that if he ever found a way to repay them, he would.

              “Here is your staff,” Aeron said.

              The elf stood and held out the obsidian scepter, and Aidan suddenly realized that the chieftain towered over him by more than a foot.  Aeron pushed open a skin in the side of the tent, and both stepped into the sunlight.

              Aidan had always expected elves to live in grand houses made of living trees, but this was not the case.  As he looked around the encampment roughly half the size of Camp Ward, he noticed that most of the dwellings were round tents, made of skins like the one he had left, or of thatch and leaves.  There were also a few structures scattered in the trees around the camp, with ladders stretching down from them.  On the either edge of the camp were long, open pens.  One contained horses, and the other held griffins, their wings tied to their sides to prevent them from flying away.   Aidan saw the beast that he had flown amongst them, lazily munching on a deer carcass.

              “My brethren are hunting, to save up meat for the winter,” Aeron said, gesturing to the empty campsite.  “Come, your friend is in here.”

              The elf pushed open the flap to a tent that was exactly the same as the one Aidan had awoken in.

              On one of the mats lay Aaliyah, her hair spread in waves around her.  Crouching next to her was a young female elf who stood as they entered.

              For the first time, Aidan understood why travelers and merchants spoke with such passion of the beauty of the elves.  She was perfect in every way, from the way her body moved as she walked towards them to the perfectly aligned eyelashes that hovered over gentle blue eyes.

              But, as Aidan watched her, there was something almost overwhelming about her, like a piece of fine glasswork that cannot be touched.  She was like a palace, full of grace and grandeur.  Next to her, Aaliyah seemed to compare better to a wooden cottage, simple, but beautiful in its own way.

              “How is she, Hollianna?”  Aeron asked the elven girl.             

              When she spoke, her voice sounded like a beautiful symphony of bells.  “She is well.  By tomorrow she should awaken.”

              Aidan breathed a sigh of relief. 

              The elder elf nodded stepped and to the side, allowing Hollianna to exit the tent.

              “My daughter is a powerful healer, despite her young age of thirty-four,” Aeron said. Aidan raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

              The elf sat on the ground and gestured for Aidan to do the same. 

              “As you probably know, we elves heal using the power of each person’s inner being, their
Arror
.  I assume that is why you came to us, after attempting to heal your friend using your own strength.”

              Aidan nodded. 

              “What you did saved her life, but it was an extremely hazardous spell.  I have never seen an
Arror
used so bluntly before, though I must commend you for your ingenuity.  With much practice, you could one day be an impressive healer.  Unfortunately, your friend’s
Arror
was nearly depleted by the time we were able to begin the healing process.  She was surviving solely off of your power.  The only way to save her life was to use yours, and the connection became permanent.”

              Aidan frowned.  “When I connected to her before, I could feel everything she felt, in a way.  I can’t feel that now.”

              Aeron laughed.  “The connection you created was far, far strong than what we have turned it into.  Also, we have put her in a deep, dreamless sleep, so you won’t be receiving anything until she awakens.”             

              “What will I receive from her?” Aidan asked.

              “It depends.  The connection between you is an ancient mystery that no race fully understands.  It has many names, including love bond, eternal chain, and simply an
Arror
connection.  However, I prefer to call it a heartsoul link, as those are the two parts of you that will be most affected.  Here, give me your hand,” the elf said.

              Aeron put Aidan’s hand onto Aaliyah’s chest, over her heart.  It beat rhythmically, full of strength and, for the boy, hope.

              “Now put your other hand over your own.”

              For a moment, Aidan frantically thought that he didn’t have a pulse.  But even as this thought raised his heartbeat, he realized that Aaliyah’s was doing the same.  Their hearts were beating together.

              “There are some advantages and disadvantages to a link like the one you share.  For example, you will always be able to find each other, no matter how lost you may seem, but you will also never be able to lose each other.  As time goes on, your link may grow stronger, or even grow so weak as to dissipate into nothing.  I can try to answer any questions you may have, but I cannot guarantee that I will be correct.”

              “If one of us dies, will the other also?”  Aidan didn’t know why he asked that question, but he felt like he needed to know.

              “It depends.  Sometimes the lives involved become so intimate that they depend on each other for survival.  I wish I could be more help, but each link is so unique that one could study them his whole life and never understand them.”

              Aidan nodded.  “You have been more than enough help.  But why?  What did I do to deserve your hospitality?”

              Aeron sighed.  “We elves will never refuse a soul in need of help.  However, we owe you personally, young Firebird.  When the Great Wars were in full swing, men and dwarves were dying by the thousands every day, protecting what they loved.  The elves, however, remained largely absent.  Most of my brethren would tell you that we were taking a longer time building an army, but that isn’t true.  We had an army, it was stationed throughout Ariyahn, our home.  Before Marcus stood on the Phoenix Isle and sacrificed himself to save us all, he came to us and asked that a small group of elves accompany him, not to fight, but to continue to feed his
Arror
more power.  We refused even that small request.  Had we accepted, it is possible that the young Firebird would still be alive today.”

              Aidan smiled.  “Did you ever meet Marcus?  Do you know what his
Arror
feels like?”

              Aeron nodded.  “More brilliant than any I have ever seen.  Why do you ask?”

              The young mage removed his ring and handed it to Aeron, careful not to let the Soulrock touch the elf’s skin.

              For a moment, his forehead creased, then his eyes widened in wonder. 

              “Is that what I think it is?” asked the elf.  “I felt it before, but I assumed it was your power, not the ring’s.  How?”

              Aidan took the ring back and slipped it onto his finger.  He very rarely removed it except to clean it, and to have it in someone else’s possession for even a short time felt strange.  Also, he didn’t like that he felt so vulnerable without the ring.

              “I don’t know.  Marcus hasn’t told me how the spell was performed.”

              “You can talk to him?” Aeron said, his eyes filled with awe.  “If you ever are able, you must let us study the ring.  This spell could have the potential to save hundreds of lives.”

              Aidan nodded, just as a horn blast sounded from outside.

              “Our hunting party has returned, will you be joining us for dinner?” the elf asked.

              Suddenly Aidan remembered the urgency of his mission.  “How long did you say I was asleep?”  Aidan asked.

              “Three days.  Why?  Is there somewhere you should be?”

              Aidan jumped to his feet.  “I must leave immediately.  Is my griffin well?”

              “Yes,” Aeron said, “But your friend here will not be ready to leave for another day, at the least.  Can you not wait that long?”

              For a moment, Aidan considered it.  His master had ordered him to bring an amogh to the isle, but that had been before his last, far more urgent message.  Besides, even if Aaliyah did wake the next day, it was likely that she would be unable to travel as she was recovering from the poison that had seeped through her body.

              “No, I have to leave now.”

              Aeron nodded knowingly, and led Aidan outside.  The elves had indeed returned, all of them clothed the same way as their chieftain.  As soon as Aidan stepped out of the tent, all of them stopped what they were doing and turned to stare at him.

              Aidan nervously shuffled forward, head down, behind Aeron.  The gaze of the elves huge, unblinking eyes was extremely unnerving. 

              They came to a gate, where Aidan saw the amogh’s griffin. It was a far more expensive beast than the one that he and Aaliyah had bought, and was most likely far better trained.  It was still in its saddle, where what was left of Aidan’s things had already been attached.

              He awkwardly stepped up onto the griffin’s back, in the view of all the elves. 
              “I can never thank you enough for all you have done, Aeron.” he said.

              “No,” The elf chieftain said, “Thank you, for all that you are going to do, Firebird.”

              Aidan paused.  “Why do you call me that?”  The elf laughed.  “That is a secret that only your father can tell you.  Now fly!”

              “My father?  You know him?” Aidan said, but the griffin had already spread its wings.  “Wait, what do you know-“ the beast launched itself into the sky, leaving the elf smiling on the ground.

              Timothy’s griffin half landed, half crashed into the ground outside the safety sphere, totally exhausted.  Its rider jumped off the beast and ran to the edge of the giant blue bubble as fast as his sore legs would carry him.  He could already feel that the spell work in this sphere was far more complex than its predecessor’s.  As far as he could tell, it was tied to every single mage, wizard, and warlock who entered it, and could not be destroyed without the consent of every member.  No more would a lone, overpowered warlock be able to dismantle the entire shield with a single spell.