Magic of Mirstone, page 15
“Please,” she had said to Dorthran. “She does not deserve to die out here. Take her. Help her.”
Dorthran had told Zanna the story many times. He had told her that she was the most beautiful baby he had ever seen, with a head full of red hair and skin like the fertile soil.
That was what Dorthran had done. He and his wife Eira had already had Keres when he brought Zanna into their home. Both of her parents loved her, but she had asked many times why they had not given her to the humans in Halesford.
“How could I?” her father had said. “I had already fallen in love with you.”
She knew his words were true, but there was more to it than that. Having a human child living amongst them was somewhat of an advantage. The humans of Halesford knew of her existence. They knew she had been spared. It was the Elves’ way of showing the humans that yes, they could end their lives in a blink of an eye, or they could spare them. In other words, the humans were at their mercy.
Zanna often wondered what her parents were like. Would she like them? Would she have been like them? If they had never raided that camp, would she have grown up a nomadic human and thief?
She continued to move along the aisle, running her fingers across the spines of the books as she walked. Suddenly, she felt a tingle in her arm. She stopped and looked at the book that had caught her attention. It was a large, green leather-bound book. There were gold letters that decorated its spine. She pulled it out of the shelf and a surge of electricity ran the length of her body.
The book was large, but she was surprised at the lightness. It was probably some magic the Elves used to make their job easier. She found a secluded corner and sat down on the dusty floor, the book in her lap.
There were no markings other than the letters on the spine. They were Elven letters, ones she didn’t recognize, yet the book didn’t look that old. Touching the spine, she sounded out the words. With that combination, the words slowly formed into something she could read.
“The Armor of Dusan,” she read out loud.
Zanna opened the book and the strange letters began dancing around the pages at her. They seemed to be moving with some sort of energy. The movement made her eyes hurt as she struggled to focus on them. Whoever had written this book wanted to be sure that only the determined could read it. That made her highly suspicious and curious.
Closing her eyes, she steadied herself. Taking a deep breath, she held the book and willed herself to concentrate. If she could read the title, then she could read the rest of it. The title. That was bothering her. She had heard that name before, “Dusan,” but where?
She searched her memory, but nothing came to mind. After a few more minutes, she opened her eyes, and to her surprise, and relief, the words were a bit calmer. They moved, but it was more of a vibration. As she began to read, the words slowly started to form and make sense to her.
By the time she was finished, Zanna couldn’t breathe. She stood up, the book still clutched in her hands. There were footsteps in the distance and she faintly heard a voice, it was Javaid. He touched her shoulder and she bolted, running from him and what she had read. Javaid called after her, but she didn’t stop.
Zanna ran and ran. She needed air. The problem was, she was on the 5th level and she either had to run down all of those stairs to the courtyard or go up, to try and reach the roof, which was just as many floors, if not more, up. Not wanting to pass her Instructor, she entered a place she was never supposed to go, the Librarian’s offices.
“Zanna!” she heard a voice, but still didn’t turn around.
She continued to run. The offices were empty. The Librarians were out on the floor, helping their students and patrons. She vaguely took in the fact that she was running down a long stone hallway with doors here and there. There was sunlight coming from the end of the hall and that was her goal. She didn’t know if it were a window or if it would even open, but she needed to try. She had to breathe.
At last, she finally reached the source of light and realized it was a door. Bursting through she found herself on a terrace, a large balcony covered with all sorts of vegetation and small birds. Finding a weeping willow in the center, she ran to the sturdy tree and clung to it, taking in large deep breaths.
“Zanna!” Javaid came to her side but didn’t touch her. “You’re scaring me. What is the matter?”
Zanna said nothing, but she handed him the book as she continued to try and control her breathing. Javaid gently took the large bound book from her and she couldn’t help but think of all the trouble she had just gotten herself into. First, she had read a book from a section of the library she was not permitted to enter, then she took a book without permission, and now she was in a location she clearly wasn’t allowed to be in.
“I don’t understand,” Javaid said. “Why has this book upset you? What language is this? I can’t even read it.”
She turned to face him, shocked, “You can’t read it?”
“No,” he said then looked at her. “Can you?”
“I can,” she said, almost fearfully. “The book is called The Armor of Dusan.”
“Who is Dusan?” Javaid looked at the book again.
“He is…” For the first time, Zanna could feel tears fall from her eyes.
Javaid finally got down on his knees in front of her and touched her face. He pulled her close to him, comforting her. What he didn’t know was that there was nothing at that moment that could take away the pain and betrayal she felt.
“Zanna, please don’t cry,” he said, releasing her and wiping away her tears. “Tell me what is the matter.”
“I have been lied to, Javaid,” she told him, tears falling down her cheeks. “I have been betrayed.”
“How? What happened?” he looked concerned.
“This book,” she took it from him. “It tells the story of Dusan. He was an Elven Knight who was promised to the princess of Vaelkesh. To prove his worth, he was sent on a quest to slay the dragon of the Ash Mountains that was terrorizing a neighboring town. He slew the beast but was horribly wounded in the process. The village that was being terrorized was occupied by humans. A kind villager found him and took him to the village healer. There, the healer and the healer’s daughter, Ianthe, nursed him back to health. During that time, Dusan fell in love with her. He wanted to marry her. When he healed, a local priest wed them. Afterward, he took her and a section of dragonhide, back to Vaelkesh. He expected his father to welcome him and his new bride. His father was furious. You see, if an Elf marries a human, if they decide to bond their lives with a human, they give up their immortality. He ordered Ianthe to be banished from the kingdom and the marriage annulled by the Elven wizards. When Dusan refused, his father ordered the execution of Ianthe. Seeing no other way, Dusan rescued her and fled across Mirstone, hoping to find shelter somewhere. For a few months, they did, hiding in The Feywilds. While there, Ianthe gave birth to a daughter. Their happiness was not to last for the King’s Guards found them. Dusan was not going to give up his wife and child easily, he fought, begging for Ianthe to run. She tried but was struck down by none other than his own father. Dusan was mortally wounded and was thought dead after throwing himself off a cliff. His father returned to the fallen body of Ianthe and saw that the infant was still alive. He drew his sword because he could not allow a half-blooded child to live. Dusan’s father, however, was turned to kindness when he saw her face and took her as his own. His father was Dorthran. That child was me.”
“Zanna,” Javaid didn’t know what to say. “Are you...are you sure?”
“I am,” she said. “It is all here. This book contains the history of my fath…Dorthran’s house.”
“But, why is this book here? How did you find it?” he wondered. “Why would your father lie to you about this? Who would leave a written account of what happened?”
“I don’t know,” she confessed. “It happened rather oddly. It read more like a legal account of what happened. I think it’s a copy of that account. It looks as though it is royal documents, but they have been spelled so that not just anyone can read them. Someone wanted this account kept secret, but someone else also wanted it known.”
She told him about the strange woman and the way the words didn’t seem to want to focus for her. Javaid opened the book and looked at the words.
Finally, Zanna stood up and walked toward the stone railing of the terrace. She took in a deep shaky breath. There were many emotions fighting for dominance inside her. If she were being honest with herself, betrayal was winning. She had always known that Dorthran was not her father, but she never knew who he truly was to her.
“What happened to him?” Javaid skimmed through the pages. “What happened to Dusan? You said they thought he was dead.”
“He made his way back to the town he had met Ianthe and found her father,” Zanna told him. “Both were filled with such anger and pain that they sought out a witch. Dusan combined his remaining Elven powers and her magic and made a suit of armor from the dragon scales of the beast he had slain. The suit was to give Dusan unimaginable power.”
“Was?” Javaid wondered.
“Yes,” she continued. “The witch’s magic was dark. In order for her spell to work, there had to be a blood sacrifice. Dusan had to kill the one person in the world he loved the most though he did not know this at the time. He put on the armor, marched back to Vaelkesh, determined to slay his father, and lay waste to the kingdom. After all, he believed his wife and child were dead. The person who he had loved the most was his father. However, upon fighting his way through an army of guards, he found his father with a child, a child he knew to be his and not because of her fiery red hair. It was because the armor wanted her life, her soul. The only way to complete the spell and gain the full power of the armor was to kill his infant daughter. He wanted to do it, but somehow he overpowered the armor and resisted. Pleading for help, his father had the mages of the city encase his son in magic in the Ash Mountains. According to that book, he’s still there.”
“He’s still alive?” Javaid wondered.
“I don’t know,” she turned to him. “But I’m going to find out.”
“Wait, what do you mean?” He followed after her as she pushed herself from the ledge and headed back to the door.
“I’m going to find him,” she said.
“You’re going to find the man who asked to be encased in magic so he wouldn’t kill you?” Javaid stepped in front of her. “You do know how insane that sounds, right?”
“He is my father,” Zanna told him. “I have to.”
“No, you have to stay alive,” he argued. “And how do you suppose you’re going to find him? The Ash Mountains go for miles in every direction.”
“Did you not see the map in the back?” she asked him, opening the book.
“No, I see only gibberish in that book,” he looked frustrated at the thought.
“It says here that he is at the base of the Dragon’s Eye,” Zanna told him. “Isn’t there a dragon statue there? One that we all call Dragon’s Eye? That must be where he is. I must go. I have to.”
“Or, you could stay here,” he offered.
“Javaid,” she sighed, rubbing her eyes. “You don’t understand. How could you? You’re just as strong, just as fast, just beautiful as the rest of them with your long life ahead of you. You don’t know what it’s like to be me. Eventually, once you reach of age, you will stop aging, probably marry Enessa, and find a place amongst the royals. You will forget me.”
“Zanna,” he grabbed her shoulders. “I will never, never forget you. You must know what you mean to me.”
“It won’t matter when I’m old or dead and you still look like this,” she gestured to him. “Javaid, you are my friend, I adore you, but in reality, one day we will not be together. If I can find my father, then maybe I can help him and I won’t be alone.”
She could tell Javaid wanted to say something, but she walked away, leaving the words unspoken. Hearing his footsteps behind her, they entered the library. Now that she was a bit calmer, she realized exactly where they were, and her nerves started to eat at her.
They snuck down the hall, trying their best to be as quiet as possible. For Javaid, it was second nature to be stealthy. For her, she had to try with her all might. She couldn’t help but wonder why that was. If her father was an Elf from a talented family and was also a King’s Guard, how had she not inherited his abilities?
Was it possible she had? Her sister believed her skills had increased in a way that wasn’t humanly possible. Zanna was almost sure that with a bit more practice, she could finally beat Keres. She would be of age soon, even before Javaid.
She explained her thoughts to him, and he seemed to think she might be onto something. Besides, if Siofra had noticed a difference, perhaps it was true.
As they finally made it back to the library stacks, Zanna relaxed slightly. Not enough though. Her stomach was still in knots. Her shoulders felt tense and a headache was forming at the base of her neck. She knew that she would never truly feel the same again. She had to find her father.
With that thought she raised her skirt hem until she reached the tight white undergarment she was made to wear. Javaid’s face went red and he turned around.
“What are you thinking?” Javaid whispered.
“I have to hide this book,” she told him.
He peeked back around and saw that she had slipped the tights off and was now using them to strap the book to her inner thigh.
“You have gone mad,” he told her.
“Perhaps,” she said, not really paying attention to what he was saying. “Keep a look out for me, will you?”
He turned and looked down the aisle and when it seemed like she was done, he turned back to face her.
“I love you, Zanna,” he told her.
“I love you, too,” she told him. “You know that. You are my best friend. That is why I need you to understand why I am doing this. Put yourself in my place, Javaid. If he can be saved, I have to try.”
He looked at her for a moment. There was something in his eyes, something in the way he clenched his jaw. For a moment, it made her feel uncomfortable. They had been friends for so long, but he had never looked at her like that.
“I am going with you,” he said at last. “You are not to argue with me. You said to put myself in your place, and I am. I understand. Now put yourself in mine. Would you let me go alone?”
“No,” she admitted.
“Besides,” he told her. “I know ways in and out of here that you do not. We can leave this evening.”
“How you do you...never mind,” Zanna rolled her eyes. “All of your rendezvous, right?”
“You think so little of me,” he smiled down at her.
“I know you,” she said.
“I wonder about that sometimes.” He looked serious again and once more she saw that look in his sky-blue eyes. “Come, we must at least pretend that we’re not going to sneak out after nightfall and go on a quest that will kill us both.”
Zanna sat at dinner that night, her legs bouncing up and down in anticipation. Male and Female students were separated at every opportunity, which included meals. She sat a little down from her classmates, but close to Enessa and her friends. Every once in a while, she would look up and catch eyes with Javaid. He would give her a reassuring nod.
“Where have you been?” Keres sat down in front of her just as she was about to get up and clean her area.
“Excuse me?” Zanna looked at her, confused.
Keres never spoke to her while they were at the academy. She was sure that Keres pretended she didn’t exist for the most part, especially in public.
“Your Instructor said you were missing for half of the class,” Keres continued.
“I don’t see how she could know that when all of her students were spread across the library on assignment,” Zanna shrugged, but she suddenly felt suspicious. Had someone seen her?
“Were you off with Javaid?” Keres questioned rather forcefully.
“I was with him, yes,” Zanna told her. “We’re often together if you haven’t noticed.”
“It is forbidden to fraternize with a fellow student,” Keres told her. “You could be expelled.”
“Fraternize?” Zanna was confused for a moment and she couldn’t help but notice that Enessa was listening. “You think Javaid and I are…”
“You’re always together, as you said,” Keres told her. “And you were missing this afternoon.”
“Keres,” Zanna laughed and then was suddenly angry. “Javaid and I are friends. Besides, is it not against the law for Humans and Elves to...fraternize?”
“Stranger things have happened,” she said, eyeing Zanna. “Besides, I see the way he looks at you.”
Zanna suddenly wondered if Keres knew anything about her father, her real father. Why else would she have said that to her? Perhaps that was why she hated her so much. It wasn’t just that was human, it was because she was a half breed.
“Does that bother you that much you had to come say something to me?” Zanna felt her temper rising. “The thought that an Elf could look at a Human that way? Does it disgust you because Humans are so beneath you?”
“I only said…” Keres began.
“I know what you said.” Zanna stood up, glaring at her sister, and stormed away.
As she did, she thought about that word, “sister.” Keres was not her sister, she was her aunt. Though some might not think that much of a revelation, it was one to her. It meant that she and Keres actually did share blood. Would that change the way Keres treated her? Zanna doubted it. If anything, Keres would probably be appalled, revolted, that she had a half-human niece.
Zanna could feel the tears burning at the back of her eyes but refused to let them fall. She didn’t have the capacity to even talk to Javaid. They had their plan laid out, there was no reason to discuss it further. Her focus was to get out of the dining hall and away from Keres.
