The 7th Relic, page 12
He gives me a sidelong glance. “Good eye, Fire-Girl, good eye.” Okay, obviously he has good eyes too, but then again how much good eyesight does one need to see someone on fire? “They’re called Shadika blades. He and one other are the only two who carry them.”
“Huh, that’s a little selfish.”
I almost go flying when Mellis smacks me on the back. He catches me easily by the shoulder. I turn to him and start laughing again. He has this dramatic and tortured look on his face.
“Right?” He has a disgusted and put-upon look. He leans in close and in a harsh and over-exaggerated whisper says, “He has throwing knives made from the same stone and another pair of blades just like the ones he’s carrying now, and do you think he would give me a set? Do you know how many birthdays I’ve had? There’ve been so many opportunities for him to gift them to me.” His eyes never leave Alorn’s back, and I get the impression he’s tried taking them without permission, unsuccessfully.
I pull at the coat when it slips off my shoulder. “Well, he’s fast with them, that’s for sure.”
Alorn threw his blades with such speed it was if they just appeared in Jleroh’s chest. I thought maybe I was seeing things, being on fire and all. But, I had my eyes on Jleroh and the blades appeared out of nowhere.
“Yes, we are pretty fast. Faster than him.” Mellis indicates Andrew with a jerk of his head. “And him,” he nods behind him at Haro. “Although, the ancient one is pretty fast.”
“The ancient one?”
“Haro. He’s older than he looks, trust me.”
I glance over my shoulder at Haro, who bows. “I’ve seen him move against the Skytes; he’s pretty fast. But I’ve only just met him so I don’t know how much faster he can really move.”
“Huh, he seems to know a lot about you.”
Startled, I glance again at Haro, but he seems lost in thought. When I turn to face Mellis, he seems preoccupied, too. I’m not sure how I know, but it seems they’re talking to each other. I leave it alone and slow my pace until Haro moves aside so I’m walking next to Reiko. The “ancient” one moves to match steps with Mellis. Again, it seems they’re in a silent conversation.
“You holding up okay?” asks Reiko.
“Yeah, things are a bit confusing, but I’m starting to connect the dots. I’m tired and exhausted. I need some sleep. By the way, thanks for the coat.”
“No problem. Actually, you should thank Andrew. I was so caught up with the Skytes that I didn’t realize you needed it until Andrew said something.”
“Oh,” is all I can say. I know Reiko would have eventually thought of giving me his coat, but it’s so like Andrew to think about it first. I stare at his back, his head nodding…but when I look at Alorn he’s not speaking. They both have the same distant look as Haro and Mellis. What gives? Are they talking to each other telepathically? And when did Andrew learn to do that?
“Reiko, are they…?”
“Having telepathic conversations? Yes.”
“Wait…they can read minds?” I’m so startled I trip over my own feet. I catch myself and continue to stare at Reiko, who gives me a sideways glance.
“Ah, you okay?”
“Seriously, they can read minds?”
“According to Haro, no.”
“Have you done it?”
“Not me, Haro. He says he can’t read our minds, but they can speak to us through our thoughts. But only he can initiate it. And once he does, he can continue to communicate with you that way.”
“How about Andrew? Can he initiate it?”
“No, only Haro. But by the looks of it, our new friends here are able to do it, too.”
“Do you think Haro is…you know, the ears?”
“Well, it would explain the permanent skullcap he always wears. And, being called the ‘Ancient One.’”
Elves.
Damn.
The thought runs through my mind. “So if these guys are related to Vilzen, then it means the mage is also Elven?”
Alorn and Mellis stop, both turning to face me. Alorn then turns to Haro. “Vilzen? You didn’t say anything about the mage.”
“I was waiting until we were someplace safe. Again, this isn’t the place nor the time.”
~ * ~
Chapter Nineteen
~ Andrew ~
“So, where is Vilzen?” I ask, still astounded by our new location.
Several blocks from where we were ambushed, Alorn and Mellis led us to an SUV. We drove out of downtown Vegas for forty-five minutes, heading north on Highway 95. The mountains surrounding the Vegas Valley seem almost nonexistent from the bright lights of the Strip, but once away from the main attraction, the surrounding area seems almost surreal in its normalcy.
We drive past the Mt. Charleston Lodge. Here you almost forget you’re in the Nevada desert and imagine you are in the middle of the Sierras. It’s beautiful here; even in the dark its beauty is evident. When we reach our destination, an off-road path, the air is crisp, a relief from the earlier heat.
We follow the two elves, trusting in their sense of direction as it is pitch black in this area. We walk for about a mile off the path and up a long slope into the thick woods. We continue on for another hour before stopping at a tree. Halfway there, Reiko nudges me to look at the ground. As with Haro, there are no footprints left by our guides, and when I look behind us I notice the only footprints showing belong to me, Reiko and Grace…and the wheels from Haro’s trunk. However, that’s nothing compared to what we find waiting for us when we reach the large cedar.
Several feet from the tree Mellis begins to chant in a crystal-clear voice, a pleasant tone. I listen carefully, but the words are foreign…maybe Elvish? Time seems to disappear; one minute we are standing in front of the cedar, the next we find ourselves here…inside the tree. We are sitting around a large wood table growing from the cedar’s center. It would be impossible to believe if we weren’t here…in a tree.
The room is bare with the exception of the table and chairs, which seem to accommodate our small group perfectly. There are no doors or windows, not even a crack to indicate a hidden pathway in or out. The walls are bare and clean, and the air smells of cedar and earth. There are no striations that I can see, or any sign that the tree was hollowed out by machine or hand. It is smooth and alive. I’m certain if I am still long enough, I would be able to hear it breathe.
In the middle of the table, floating above our heads, are three circular balls of light.
Reiko inspect the light source closely. “What’s holding these up? How are they able to give off electricity without being attached to a source?”
“They’re called panswa, a plant life from our realm,” explains Mellis.
Reiko steps back, fascinated. “A plant life?”
Mellis is in the kitchen area preparing tea. “They grow that way, with the light contained within their bulb. We’ve learned how to harness the light to manipulate their size, and control how much light to draw from their cores.”
“Huh, interesting.” Reiko takes a seat with his eyes still on the “panswa.”
Mellis sets a tray of cups in the middle of the table, filled with bark tea. He places a cup in front of each of us. Haro takes his cup and holds it close, savoring the sweet aroma, but doesn’t take a drink. Mellis takes a seat next to Grace with his own cup before him. Only when Mellis takes a drink does Haro take a sip; the ecstasy on his face is encouraging. Encouraging enough for Reiko and Grace to take their own cups and follow suit. Their eyes widen with surprised delight, Grace taking another long sip, while Reiko downs his in two gulps. He places the cup on the table and looks at Mellis expectantly.
“Sorry, dude,” says Mellis. “But I do the initial serving. You’re on your own for seconds.”
Reiko gives him a smile before rising, and heads over to the kitchen for more tea.
Alorn remains quiet, obviously not happy with the situation regarding Vilzen.
From the serving area, Reiko addresses Alorn. “Listen, it’s important we find him.”
Grace, on the other hand, looks as if she wants to pinch herself to see if she’s awake. Her eyes flit from the walls to the table to the panswa and even to the chairs set around the table. I nudge her foot and she turns to me, then laughs softly at herself. I smile and she relaxes into her seat. We turn our focus back on our host.
Alorn leans back in his seat. “Why? You have the relic; there’s no need to find the mage now.”
“There’s another reason why we need him,” says Haro. “It’s why Konè wanted us to find him to begin with.”
“Konè?” Alorn seems surprised to hear my uncle’s name. Finally, a sign of interest.
Haro’s brows go up. “You know Konè?”
Alorn’s shoulder’s relax. “If it’s the same Konè I’m thinking of, yes. He would visit Mellis’s father from time to time—sharing, teaching, learning new techniques of self defense and combat.”
Mellis nods. “Yes, I remember him. I still use the techniques he taught me when I was just a child.” He turns to me. “I’m sorry to hear of his passing.”
The room becomes quiet. I acknowledge Mellis’ condolences, then realize Alorn hasn’t touched his tea. His eyes are on me…waiting. It’s a matter of trust; I get it. I pick up my cup and take a drink.
Damn. This is some good tea. The taste is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. Crisp and light, hot enough to warm, yet there is coolness to it. As soon as it touches my tongue it seeks out my taste buds and gently assaults them before disappearing, leaving me invigorated and satisfied…and wanting more. I place my cup down and meet Alorn’s eyes, noting he still hasn’t touched his tea.
“A year ago,” I start, “our gates throughout the realm closed, for no reason that we could find except that it happened the day my father died. We discovered it was the same with every portal throughout the seven realms…we called it the Closing. It took us months before our Elders were able to open one. They are able to open it from our realm but…”
“But,” continues Haro, “without an Elder here, we have no way to open the gate to return home. Konè wasn’t an Elder but he had the ability to summon the gates and travel between realms. With him here and the Elder’s in Kalorii, passage was never an issue. With him gone, we need Vilzen; he has the ability to open any gate, any door.”
Mellis whistles low, his easygoing manner suddenly changing, as if he’s uncomfortable with the topic.
“What?” A dark feeling settles in the pit of my stomach.
Mellis looks at Alorn. “Um, you go.”
Alorn sighs, downing his tea before leaning forward on the table. “The ‘Closing,’ as we also call it, happened because King Tolan of the Willow Clan killed a dark elf, a witch. A powerful demon named Ethos had used her as the catalyst to open the doorway to the UnderRealm. While we were in Pathen, he tied her life essence to every doorway in our realm, binding her to her fate.”
“Pathen?” asks Grace, her interest piqued.
“This realm we’re in, it’s called Pathen,” explains Haro.
“Pathen,” repeats Grace.
“When Tolan killed her,” continues Alorn, “the spell over the doorways was broken, releasing a force so powerful it opened the gates to the UnderRealm. It was only for a few seconds, but it was long enough for an army of demons to come through. Many broke loose in the Velesi realm; many escaped into Pathen.”
“Let me guess,” says Reiko. “That happened about a year ago?”
Alorn nods. “We fought to prevent our world from being destroyed by Ethos. It wasn’t until after he was killed we realized the extent of the damage caused by the dark elf’s death.”
“You’re wrong,” I say, my anger evident. “The damage spilled into Omakei as well. Rumors of demons attacking the Territories have increased within the past year, and now we know why.”
“I understand your rage,” says Alorn, unapologetic, “but Velesi was ground zero. Once he destroyed our realm, he was determined to destroy the remaining six. With the major six out of the way, there would be nothing to keep him from continuing to the lower realms until they were destroyed, too. Our loss was great: fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters…children, all gone. Omakei still exists because of their sacrifice.”
I pull back my anger. I am humbled by the events that have come to light, of Velesi’s great loss. It’s not much and may mean little to him, but I bow my head low. “Thank you.”
“Is that why you’re here?” ask Grace. “To what? To kill the demons?”
“No. There’s only one person who can kill a demon,” says Mellis.
“That’s not possible,” says Haro.
“What do you mean?” asks Grace.
“You can only send a demon back to the UnderRealm. You can’t kill one,” replies the Cumro.
“But there is one who can,” assures Mellis. “The queen of the Oak Clan.” He leans in and winks at Grace, smiling. “We’re very close, the queen and I. In fact, she owes me a favor.”
“But…don’t you get homesick?” asks Grace, her focus back on Alorn. “Can’t the king send someone else to handle the demons who escaped?”
“Ah,” says Mellis, determined not to be ignored. “Tolan is the king of the Willow Clan. His brother Tharin is not only the king of the Oak Clan, but he is king of the entire realm. We all answer to him.”
Grace blinks at him as if she’s missing something. “Okay, so can’t he send someone else? I’m sure he understands you want to be with your family, with the people you love…your wife, girlfriend?”
Alorn’s face remains unreadable, except for a slight pulse at his temple, a quick movement now under control. I don’t think anyone else noticed but me. There is more here besides running down demons from the UnderRealm.
“That explains much,” says Haro, bringing us back on track. He turns to me. “We were right. The Closing had nothing to do with your father’s death.”
“What do you mean?” asks Alorn.
I look at him, deciding to share our suspicions. “We think someone used the Closing as a cover to assassinate him. And before Konè died, he told Grace there was a traitor.”
“Now we know for sure,” adds Reiko. “We just don’t know who.”
“It will be someone close to you,” says Alorn.
“Morfais,” says Haro. “You were right, Andu.”
Grace stares at Haro. He has been calling me Andu off and on since we found her but she hasn’t asked him why. I’ll have to explain it to her later.
“Because of what happened in Velesi, we’re unable to return to Omakei,” says Haro.
“Omakei?” repeats Grace. “I thought it was called Kalorii?”
“Kalorii is the name of our territory, the ruling state of Omakei, which is the name of the realm. You’ll learn the names of the territories in time, Grace,” says Haro. He turns back to Alorn. “You see now why we have to find Vilzen.”
Alorn’s keen eyes are locked on Grace’s neck. “You wear the relic. I can sense it from here.”
“You can sense it?” asks Reiko. He turns to Haro. “Why him and not you?”
“Because,” replies Haro, “he is the cousin to the king, who shares his ability, a family trait.”
“You need Vilzen for more than opening the gates,” continues Alorn. “A man such as Konè would know the two others capable of opening the gate from any realm. It would have been easy for him to find them. Easier than having to look for a powerful mage who doesn’t want to be found.”
Haro nods. “Yes. We need him to unite the relics during the Rising.”
“Will you help us?” Our eyes meet again, a silent assessment on his part, a decision to be made. I sense not many have withstood his intense scrutiny, but I’m out of options, so I remain steadfast in winning his trust.
Alorn shifts his attention to Haro. “Do you have any of the witch’s spit you used to find me?”
“Yes. I also have the Map of Souls.”
“Good; hold on to it.” He turns to Mellis. “Are you up for this?”
Mellis grins at his cousin, shrugging. “Not much choice but to be ready.”
“Ready for what?” asks Grace, her curiosity getting the better of propriety. I nudge her foot again, and she turns to me, confused. She shrugs and mouths “what?”
“Mellis has a better chance of finding Vilzen because of his father. My tie to Vilzen is through my mother. Her connection to him is not as strong. Move away from the table.” We stand and do as he says. “Her connection weakened with each time she gave birth.”
I notice Haro becomes quiet and withdrawn as Alorn speaks of his mother. Catching my eye, he clears his throat before turning to Alorn. “How is Bi’irea?”
Alorn’s brow lifts as he puts his hand out to the Cumro for the potion. “You know my mother?”
“We were…are…old friends.” Haro hands over the witch’s spit. “And, Lodus, how is he?”
Without emotion, Alorn answers, “My father died saving our realm.”
Haro’s eyes widen, then are quickly cast downward. He bows. “My deepest of sympathies, my Prince.” When he straightens, his watery eyes are filled with sorrow. “He was a good man. We were boyhood friends.”
Alorn pauses to look Haro over. For the first time since I’ve known Haro, and despite us calling him “old man,” he seems at this moment…like a very old man indeed. The elf seems to read Haro just by looking at him, and after a long moment nods.
I don’t think anyone, except maybe Alorn, noticed when Mellis disappeared. He walks back into the room wrapped in a thick blanket, obviously naked underneath. Alorn waves his hand over the table and it lowers until it’s a foot above the floor. He steps aside, making room for Mellis to sit crossed-legged in the center, facing us. He looks at Grace and winks, causing her to laugh softly.
Alorn stands behind Mellis, then nods at Haro to take a seat in front of his cousin. The old man follows his lead, kneeling before Mellis as he removes his pouch and opens it. However, before he can pour out its contents, Alorn stops him. “Your black sands are no good here.” I can’t tell if Haro is surprised Alorn knows about the black sand, or that the elf doesn’t need it.
