The Tears of Elios (15 page)

Galen chuckled. “Is that the only reason?”

Gregor swallowed hard, trying to push the lump out of his throat. “No.”

“I thought as much.” Galen relaxed in this chair. “Contrary to what Anilayus is publicizing, the Resistance is not about overthrowing the Kingdom and murdering the King. We think the humans should have their own kingdom, if they want, just as we feel we should have our own area of land where we can live without the fear of persecution.”

There was something in his speech that caught Gregor off guard. Sure, he’d imagined Galen would be charismatic, but he didn’t expect the true sincerity behind the political jargon. “A noble objective, I agree.”

Galen nodded. “I was hoping I could persuade you to assist us.”

“How so?”

“Naturally, with your family connections, I would not dare ask you to do something extremely rebellious. The task I have for you is to help us recover some magical artifacts that are scattered here in Elgeus.”

This piqued his curiosity, making him forget about his meal. “What kind of artifacts?”

“With your interest in the elves, I'm sure you've come across the legend of the Tears of Elios.”

“Are they real?”

“Very much so.”

“Unbelievable!” Gregor stood and began pacing in front of the fire. “Is it true that they magnify any spell cast with them?”

Galen paused before nodding.

“Remarkable! I would love to see them.” Gregor halted. “But how do you know where to find them?”

“When you find one, it shows you the location of the others.”

“If that's the case, how come they're still missing?”

“Because it’s difficult to decipher the images you are shown.”

Gregor sat behind his desk and reached for a quill to begin writing all this information down, but a bolt of blue magic turned his feather to cinders.

“This is not information I would want well known,” Galen warned. “Although I have reason to trust you, I also know that you are human and could easily have this information taken from you by force. Therefore, for your safety, I will not confide their location to you.”

“Then how am I to find them?”

“I have shown Ranealya the location of three of the orbs here in Elgeus. She will be your guide. That is, if you choose to assist us.”

Ranealya would be going with me?
A combination of fear and excitement rushed through him, and his pulse raced. Yes, he wanted to spend more time with her, but he also knew she had a tendency to attract trouble, namely the Azekborn. He reached for the necklace he created and held the pendant in his hand. Perhaps the spell would be enough to protect them both and keep her from attracting any unwanted attention.

He was so lost in thought that he’d failed to notice that Galen had gone to the bookshelves and was reading some of the scrolls he had yet to translate. “This is quite a collection you have here.”

“Yes, I saved them from the Royal Archives. I don't know what all of them are about, but I hated the idea of them being destroyed.”

“Destroyed?”

“Anilayus wanted anything that was written in Elvish or Dwarvish burned. From my understanding, he was hoping to destroy some of the old treaties.”

Galen rolled up one scroll and reached for another. “Very interesting.” His eyes narrowed as he read the scroll in his hand. When he rolled it up, he didn’t replace it on the shelf as he had with the other scrolls. “Do you mind if I take some of them back with me?”

“Why?” Gregor walked to the shelf, aware of the tightening grip the elf had on the scroll.

Galen stared at him in defiance. “Some of these scrolls contain dangerous information. Information I wouldn’t want to fall into the wrong hands.”

“My hands?” He’d saved these scrolls, and now he wanted to know what they contained. If that meant he had to fight Galen for them, then he would.

“Anyone's hands, human or elvan. This is information that should only be entrusted to the Elders.” His expression softened. “I'm not trying to steal knowledge from you, but there are things from the past that should not be resurrected. Please be satisfied with my explanation and allow me to take this scroll and others like it to a safe place.”

Gregor clamped his hand over the other end of the scroll. “First tell me what's so special about these scrolls.”

He almost regretted his words when he saw Galen's eyes flash with anger, yet the elf stayed calm. “If you give me your word to allow me to have the scrolls, I'll tell you of their contents.”

For a moment, Gregor considered taking them by force, but something about the elf made him hesitate. There were too many years of experience behind those eyes. “Fine, take them.”

Three more scrolls flew from the stacks, and Galen enclosed them in a ball of green magic. “Thank you, Gregor.” The ball shrank and disappeared, taking them with it. “The Scrolls of Corang are now safe.”

“The Scrolls of Corang?” That was something he’d never come across in his readings.

“Yes. They contain the history of the drae and how they were sent to another realm of existence by the elves. If they fell into the wrong hands, the drae could be summoned and returned here. As it is, Anilayus has already found a way to enslave some of them and turn them into the Azekborn.”

Gregor exhaled. He hadn’t expected the scrolls to contain that information. Drae. Other realms of existence. His mind swam with the thought of it. “You're telling the truth?”

“Elves can't lie.”

“Amazing.” He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, trying to clear any images from his mind. What had he just let go of? Then he felt that uncomfortable presence probing his mind once again.

“You shouldn’t delve into things you don’t fully understand, Gregor. The scrolls are far more dangerous than they appear.” The presence retreated from his mind. “I'll tell you more about them when you return with the Tears of Elios.”

Gregor replaced his glasses and studied the elf. “A bribe?”

A smile played upon his lips. “A reward, to be more precise. The sooner you complete the task I ask of you, the sooner you can acquire the knowledge you seek.”

“I'm sure you have a great deal of knowledge I would like to acquire, such as how you came to appear in this room.”

“Teleportation is simple enough, once you learn to spell.” His eyes fell on Ranealya, and he moved closer to her. He stroked her hair, careful not to disturb her sleep. “There are many things she could teach you as well, if you have the patience.”

The sinking feeling returned once again. Yes, there was more to their relationship than just being casual acquaintances. He knew now that Galen loved her. And, of course, she would naturally choose Galen over him. The elf was everything he was not—confident, powerful, graceful.
What chance do I have against that?

He was in the process of berating himself for even hoping she would be interested in him when he felt the presence creeping into his mind yet again. “Stop trying to read my thoughts!”

Galen's eyes widened, and his hand remained suspended over her head. “I'm surprised you were even aware of me. Most humans are completely oblivious when I read their thoughts. That is, when I can read them.” He tucked the covers around her before he returned to Gregor.

“Should I tell you a story that will put your mind at ease?” He gestured for Gregor to take a seat, but he remained aloof near the shelves. “I once had a sister named Nyelle. It is unusual among elves to have more than one child, but my parents were exceptions. I was fully grown when she was born, but like any older brother, I was very protective of her.

“Our father was an Elder, and she grew up in a privileged household. She was very beautiful but also very vain. She became accustomed to getting whatever she wanted because of her beauty or because of who our father was. In time, she became willful and spoiled.

“Our parents were killed when she was approaching her adult years—the equivalent of her being thirteen or fourteen years old if she was a human. I assumed her care, but she became more and more rebellious. Despite my warnings, she chose to pursue things she should have never gone near. For years, I blamed myself for her fate—that I hadn’t been strict enough with her—but I know now she would have done what she wanted to do.” His body sagged as the mournful note of regret filled his voice.

“And what happened to your sister?”

Galen stared into the fire, his face tense. “One day, she decided to go against my orders and investigated a human named Travodus. The Elders knew he had been trying to acquire an elf for a ritual he had been planning to cast. Six elves had already either been killed or committed suicide when they were captured. Then she fell into his trap.”

Gregor had heard the stories of Travodus the Mad, a sorcerer who dared to become a deity and create a master race, only to be harshly punished by the gods. But until now, he thought they were mere stories. “And did he kill her, too?”

“In a way.” His eyes flickered to Ranealya, and he sighed. “She would not be pleased with me, for this is her story to tell, not mine, but I feel you deserve to hear part of it.

“Travodus succeeded that night in creating a master race. He combined the unique qualities of humans and elves with the strength and agility of animals. The race he created had the power to assume any shape they desired.”

“So shape-shifters were created! I knew it. But—” Then it all became clear to him. Galen's sister had been transformed into one of the first shape-shifters. “Ranealya is Nyelle?” he asked.

Galen nodded. “When she returned home, she was what you see before you now. She bore no resemblance to her former self and seemed to be driven to madness. She had no control over her new powers. Her shape changed with each new emotion. The Elders were appalled by what she had become. To them, she was little different than the drae, and they exiled her from all elvan lands. They declared she would be known as ‘Ranealya’, which in our language means ‘cursed one’. Nyelle was dead to them.

“At first, I tried to follow her wanderings. She slowly accepted her fate and gained control of her powers. Then she began to push me away, becoming more and more elusive over the years. She chose when she appeared to me—usually every few years to let me know she was still alive—before disappearing again. Once the Clearances began, I saw her more frequently. I sometimes wonder if she was trying to assure herself that I was still alive, even as she fled from the Azekborn.”

Gregor was so engrossed by the story, trying to imagine what it must have felt like for Ranealya, that he was startled when Galen touched his shoulder. “I am entrusting my sister to you. Please try and keep her from harm, if you can. There is a reason why you're the only other person who has gained her trust.”

“She trusts me?”

“Yes, and that is no easy accomplishment.” He released Gregor's shoulder and draped his cloak over his arm. “I need to return to the camp, but I’ll leave you with Ranealya. She will show you where to find the Tears of Elios and where to bring them afterwards. Safe journeys to you, Gregor Meritis, until we meet again.”

With a flash of blue, the elf vanished, leaving Gregor alone to ponder his new knowledge of Ranealya.

CHAPTER 12

Galen moved through the camp with noiseless steps. The evening had been fruitful. Ranealya was right—Gregor would make a powerful ally. More importantly, however, he might keep her out of trouble.

The dissonant rumble of heavy snoring greeted him as he approached his tent. He frowned as he snapped open the flap, startling Tyrrus. “What are you doing here?”

The portly mage blinked in the low light and stumbled to his feet. As usual, it appeared he’d been drinking again, judging by his bloodshot eyes. “Galen, you’re back.”

Galen toyed with the idea of banning all beer and wine from the camp. “Yes, and you still haven't answered my question.”

“I wanted to speak to you about something.”

Galen mentally cringed and hoped it wouldn’t have anything to do with Kira. “Be brief about it,” he replied as he busied himself with removing his cloak and straightening up his tent. “It's late.”

“Now that I have been relieved of my apprentice, I was hoping there might be something a little more interesting I could be doing for the Resistance.”

“Unfortunately, I can't risk sending you back to Dromore now that the Azekborn have seen you, especially since you know the location of the camp.”

Tyrrus paled under the beer-induced flush. “Oh, so Kira told you about that?”

Galen turned to face him. “I was wondering why you neglected to tell me about that when you arrived.”

He patted his round belly and looked away. “I figured you already knew. You don't steal something like that without attracting their attention.”

“Get to the point, Tyrrus.”

“I have already. I want to do something a bit more daring and dangerous.”

Galen resisted the urge to laugh. “Are you sure you're up to it, old man?”

“Who are you calling old? You have at least a few centuries on me.” He smoothed his dark blue robe. It seemed to be the only piece of clothing that wasn’t covered with food stains. “I am a Master. Surely, you must have something I can do. Can I help you retrieve any more of the Tears of Elios?”

“Quiet, Tyrrus!” He glared at the human. “The fewer people who know about this, the better.”

“I know there are more to be found.”

“They’re being taken care of.”

“Please, Galen, I beg you! Let me tag along. You have no idea how it feels to be useless.”

Something in his pleading softened Galen's resolution. There were times he wished he could be useless rather than having the lives of thousands of people depending on him. He studied Tyrrus for a moment. The human’s bottom lip trembled, and moisture gathered in the corners of his eyes. “Do you know Paleah?”

“Not personally, but I know who she is. One of the common elves, right?”

“She and Orin are leaving in the morning to go to the Dragonlands to find one of them. I'll ask her if you can accompany them.”