Ashes of a Black Frost

TWENTY-FOUR

A wind blew among the sarka har on the mountaintop, rattling their branches. Leaves heavy with ore and dark power twisted and ripped away, twirling through the air like miniature scythes. A few of the blood trees snapped and splintered, their trunks too rigid to cope with the strain. The Shadow Monarch ignored the whirling debris around Her and pulled Her robe closer. It was cold up here, even for Her. She sat on the leeward side of Her ryk faur, sheltered by its massive, gnarled trunk from the worst of the wind. Great, knobby branches hung low around Her, offering further protection.

She closed Her eyes and leaned Her head against the Silver Wolf Oak’s trunk. She felt the strong, urgent vibration of the ichor pulsing through the tree and took comfort from it. Her ryk faur would live. The early frost would not kill it. She saw the birthing meadow sparkling with white frost and felt the anguish as the tiny sapling screamed in terror and pain as the frost burned it. She turned to plead with the elves of the Long Watch to save it, but there was no one there.

The Shadow Monarch sat up, crying out as She reached to soothe the sapling. Her hands came to rest on the ulcerating trunk of the tree. It was sick. It was a thought She knew, yet refused to accept. The contradiction made Her angry, and She looked around for a place to vent Her rage.

A constant trickle of ichor bled down the side of the Silver Wolf Oak to collect in a pool near the Shadow Monarch’s feet. She stared at the shimmering surface, feeling the power flow from the tree. She tried to find Her children as She had before, but the surface of the ichor would not settle. The mountain shuddered and rock cracked as the roots of the sarka har drove deeper in search of sustenance.

Growing angrier, She focused all Her thought on the pool, willing it to cooperate. An image began to appear, but it wasn’t of elves but of a city of humans. Celwyn. She’d never been, but She knew it from the minds of Her Emissaries. A loud snap overhead made Her look up as a heavy branch from the Silver Wolf Oak splintered and fell to the ground, shattering. Ichor splashed Her, and She smelled the taint of death.

Using Her anger, She called on the power in the depths, urging the roots to dig deeper still. The mountain shook and several sarka har fell into chasms that opened wide beneath their trunks. Undaunted, She reached out to the shimmering vision of Celwyn.

Large, lush trees lined cobbled streets. Huge parks with vast meadows buzzed with life. Everywhere She looked, the land mocked Her with its verdant energy. She saw the image of Her ryk faur reflected in the pool of ichor and the contrast drew a slow hiss from between Her teeth.

She felt its branches come down to gently rest on Her shoulders. Two snaked their way down Her arms to wrap lightly around Her wrists. She plunged both hands into the ichor up to Her elbows. The cold shocked her, but cleared Her mind. She felt the natural order and began to tug on the web of roots deep underground, directing them to a new destination. She withdrew Her hands and watched. The branches slid back up Her arms and away.

She sat like that, unaware of the passage of time or the growing cold. Frost sparkled on Her cloak and in Her hair, turning it gray and brittle. The view of Celwyn shimmered and then changed. She blinked. Darkness erupted from the earth throughout the city as Her sarka har sought to conquer this new land. She smiled, and leaned back against her ryk faur as the screams and cries of a people echoed in Her mind.

The Shadow Monarch closed Her eyes. Soon, there would be nowhere else for Her children to run. Soon, they would have to come home. They would have to come back to Her.

Visyna stumbled again, and this time she knew she wouldn’t be able to keep control of the storm around her. The stinging threads began slipping through her fingers at an increasing rate. Her fingertips burned and she stifled a scream, doing her best to use her weaving to shape what little of the storm she still controlled.

“I’m losing it,” she said, knowing her warning was obvious as the wall of swirling snow that had protected the group disappeared into the larger storm around them.

Cold air rushed into the bubble, chilling her to the bone. The pain in her fingers turned into pins and needles. She pressed her hands under her armpits and dared to look around. Rakkes were emerging from the snow wherever she looked.

“Everyone stay close. Don’t get split from the group and don’t try to make a run for it!” Hrem shouted, coming to stand beside her on her left. “We’re stronger as a group and they know it!”

Three dozen rakkes began beating their chests and thrashing in the snow as they built themselves into a frenzy. The fur on Jir’s back stood straight up and his lips peeled back to reveal his fangs. The growl that emanated from deep within his chest sent shudders up Visyna’s spine. Against a few rakkes she would have given the bengar a better than average chance of defeating them, but there were far too many. He couldn’t kill them all, though he would die trying.

Visyna freed her hands and tried to call up some threads from the surrounding storm, hoping against hope that she could yet weave something more out of the chaos, but her efforts were in vain. She sank to her knees, her energy spent.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Chayii. The elf smiled at her. “I would have been proud to call you my daughter-in-law,” she said, gently reaching down and grabbing Visyna by the elbow, helping her up.

“He would have had to ask first,” she said, wiping away a tear.

“He would have,” Chayii replied.

The rakkes howled and moved in closer, though none yet dared to charge the last ten yards.

“Release the animal!” Zwitty hissed. He stood so that Hrem covered him on one side and Scolly on the other. “He wants to get at them anyway. This is the perfect time.”

“There are too many rakkes,” Visyna said, looking to Chayii for support.

She shook her head slowly. “I can’t hold him any longer, child-his rage grows too strong. He will hunt, and what will be will be.” She leaned down and whispered something into the bengar’s ear, patting his mane as she spoke to him. Jir’s growl turned into a deep, rumbling purr. For a moment, Visyna hoped he might stay with them, but then Chayii stood up and released her grip.

Jir shook his head and brought his left paw up to his eyes and rubbed it across them. He then extended his legs, stretching and arching his back as if waking from a sleep, which perhaps he was after Chayii released her hold on him. His muzzle sniffed the air and the purring grew louder.

“Has he gone stupid?” Zwitty asked. “There are rakkes everywhere. He’s acting like he doesn’t even see them.”

“He sees, he smells. He knows they’re there,” Chayii said, leaning against Visyna. The old elf was even more tired than she was. If the wind got any stronger it would blow them both over.

A rakke charged forward a couple of steps in a show of aggression, throwing its head back and gibbering into the sky. Jir twisted his head around and began to lick the fur around his wounded shoulder.

“I can’t believe I’m with Zwitty on this, but why isn’t Jir tearing into them?” Hrem asked.

“Elves have a great affinity with nature and all its creatures,” Chayii said, talking slowly, “although I suppose my son is not the best example. It is how we came to bond with the Wolf Oaks. It is also, unfortunately, why we face the evil of the Shadow Monarch now. Konowa did, however, bond with this creature. As their spirits are very much alike his influence on it did not materially change its basic personality of a predator.”

Visyna understood at once. “But you did!”

Chayii stood up enough to look at her and smile. “He is still very much a predator, and a wild one at that, but during the time I held him in thrall I was able to impart a certain degree of. . patience. Something, sadly, I had less success doing with my own son.”

“How in the hell does that help us now?” Zwitty asked.

“You will see soon enough,” Chayii said.

The rakke that charged ahead of the others grew bold when no response came from the group. It gnashed its teeth together and bounded ahead another yard. The other rakkes howled their encouragement and began to shuffle forward. Visyna knew a mass charge was imminent. The longer the rakkes remained uncertain the better their chances were of coming up with some kind of plan to save themselves. She raised her hands and began to weave.

“I thought you couldn’t?” Hrem asked, raising his own hands and balling them into fists.

“I can’t,” Visyna said, “at least, not enough to push them away, but they don’t know that.” She made a show of waving her hands about her before crouching down in the snow and scooping up two handfuls of the tainted snow. It burned her hands, but it also warmed them enough for her to be able to tease a gossamer thread of power from the air and create a thin, shimmering wall between them and the rakkes.

Many of the rakkes scurried back a couple of yards. The lead rakke crouched lower and grew silent, but it didn’t retreat.

Good, Visyna thought, amazed that her plan was actually working, but knowing it wouldn’t for long.

“We need to stall them a little longer,” she said. “Inkermon, start praying. Out loud. Hrem, if you can keep control of the frost fire, call it up now. Make a big show of it. Grunt and yell. You see how they are. Try to do something similar.”

The big soldier looked down at his hands then back at her. “I can’t act.”

Visyna choked back a curse. “Forget acting. Just get angry. Stomp around. Yell.”

“Imagine someone got between you and a bowl of stew,” Zwitty said, his wheedling tone cutting through the building tension.

Hrem roared. Visyna gasped. The soldier spun on his heel and swung his fist at Zwitty’s head. Zwitty leaped backward, took a couple of awkward steps and fell to the snow. The rakkes nearby howled with renewed fury. Zwitty scrambled back to the group on his hands and knees.

“You could have got me killed!” Zwitty said, jumping to his feet and waving an arm at the surrounding rakkes.

“And?” Hrem asked. “Guess I can act a little after all.” There was no humor in his voice.

“This isn’t helping,” Visyna said.

“What should we do?” Scolly asked.

“Make snowballs.”

“Snowballs?” Zwitty asked as Scolly bent over and began scooping up snow in great handfuls. “You really think that’s going to stop a rakke?”

The temptation to punch the private in the nose now had her clenching her fists until she remembered she was supposed to be putting on a show of weaving. “They might if you toss a few to Hrem and the frost fire lights them and then he throws them at the rakkes.”

“Clever,” Chayii said, patting Visyna on the arm.

Jir padded a few feet toward the closest rakke, but still he gave no indication that he was aware of him. The rakke roared and raised its arms high above its head in a threat display. Jir turned as if noticing the creature for the first time. And then he did the most remarkable thing.

“He’s cowering,” Visyna said, not sure she believed her eyes. The fearless bengar was actually belly down in the snow and slowly slinking backward. The rakke recognized the posture and charged.

“No,” Chayii said, “he’s acting.”

Jir’s demeanor changed in an instant. His ears flattened against his skull and his fur rippled as muscles bunched and tensed. The rakke was two strides away when Jir leaped, a blur of black and red fur against the snow. There was a scream that cut off short, the sound of ripping leather, and a spray of blood. Jir landed on his front two paws and let his rear ones softly come down a second later.

The body of the rakke lay sprawled in the snow, its head resting in Jir’s jaws.

The other rakkes retreated several steps and their constant screeching and bellowing calls ceased. Jir had bought them some more time, but how much? More rakkes were appearing who hadn’t seen Jir’s horrific demonstration. Their roars would soon enough encourage the others to move forward again.

“Now what?” Zwitty asked.

“We start moving again toward the fort. Hrem, toss the snowballs about seven yards ahead of us and then a few to the sides. Jir can keep a watch and go after any that come in too close.”

Scolly handed Hrem a snowball. Hrem strode forward from the group and held his hand out at arm’s length. The rakkes fixated on him immediately. Hrem roared, and the snowball burst into black flame. He moved his arm around so that as many rakkes as possible could get a look and then he threw. The ball made a graceful arc trailing black frost in the air. It hit the snow with a sharp crack and Visyna realized it had instantly frozen the powdery snow into solid ice. Black flames and sparks flared for a few seconds before burning out. The rakkes near the flames screamed and pulled back several more yards.

“Move!” Visyna shouted, forcing her fingers to weave what little threads she could manage.

They started forward. Inkermon prayed, Scolly and Zwitty made snowballs and passed them to Hrem who lit them with frost fire and threw them as quickly as he could. Visyna did her best to prop up Chayii while weaving as Jir circled the group, snarling here and there at any rakke that came too close.

“It’s working!” Hrem shouted, tossing a snowball and hitting a rakke directly in the chest. The creature screamed as black flames washed over it and it ran off into the night. “We’re going to make it.”

A rock sailed out of the dark striking Hrem a glancing blow on the side of the head. He didn’t fall, but bent over in pain clutching the wound. The rakkes lunged forward. Jir attacked, his claws sweeping in lightning fast arcs designed more to wound and frighten than to kill.

The charge faltered, but did not stop. There had to be fifty or more rakkes around them now, and even creatures as primal as these knew that with numbers like that they could overwhelm their prey.

“They’ve figured out how to get to us,” Zwitty said, not bothering to hide the rising fear in his voice.

“They’re predators,” Chayii said by way of an answer.

Scolly and Zwitty started throwing snowballs though neither one lit them on fire. Inkermon’s prayer grew louder, but if it was having an effect Visyna couldn’t see it. She only caught a few words, but noticed that the soldier was invoking a lot of salvation, righteous fury, and a quick death. She hoped that last part was directed at the rakkes and not them.

A growing roar filled the air from the direction of the fort. The rakkes turned to look even as they continued to charge.

The sound reached a crescendo and a dark form burst through the circle of rakkes, its body covered in bright green spots of fire.

The reaction of the rakkes was immediate and stunning. They yipped and gibbered with fear and ran, everything else forgotten. They flayed and scrambled over each other to get away from the figure now stumbling around in their midst. Green flame flickered all over the creature obscuring its true shape as it swung its arms as if trying to beat out the fire.

That’s when Visyna noticed it was also waving a saber and cursing a blue streak.

“Konowa!” Visyna shouted, running toward him. She pulled up several feet short from him. He was wearing the tattered and smoldering remains of a cloth robe which was smoking furiously as it burned up with hundreds of tiny green flames.

“Has a spell been cast on you?” she asked, surprised that she could sense no foreign magic at work.

“Ow, ow, bloody, ow!” Konowa shouted, ripping what was left of the robe off his shoulders and diving into the snow where he began to roll over and over. “A bunny nibbling my fingers my arse! Ow!” he shouted some more, some of the choicer words being lost as his face went beneath the snow.

He finally sat up, covered in snow, his saber still waving dangerously around him. “I am going to kick that dwarf right in the-Jir!” he managed to say before a blur raced past Visyna and thundered into Konowa, sending them both, elf and bengar, tumbling in a snowy heap.

Their reunion was short as Konowa staggered to his feet, an excited Jir threatening to bowl him over bounding all around him, the wound in his shoulder completely forgotten. Frost fire arced between them but Jir didn’t appear to notice.

“Major!” Hrem said, stepping forward and clamping a huge hand on Konowa’s shoulder. “It’s great to see you, sir. Where’s the rest of the regiment?”

Konowa was still brushing himself off and didn’t appear to hear the question.

“Are you all right, my son?” Chayii asked, holding out a hand toward him then reluctantly pulling it back as black frost sparkled on his uniform.

“Mother. Oh, just a little hot under the collar is all. . Look, no time to explain. We have to move, now.” He started to turn back toward the fort then stopped and looked at his mother again. “Father is back to his elf self, well, almost.”

This time Chayii did step forward and embrace her son. Frost fire glittered where her arms wrapped around him, but she held on.

“I missed you, too, but um, this isn’t really the best time,” Konowa said. His troops stood staring at him with open mouths.

Chayii let go and stepped back, but not before reaching up and brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. Visyna felt a pang of longing, wishing it was her in Chayii’s place right now.

Visyna began to lower her head and start walking. She so desperately wanted him to run to her and sweep her up in an embrace and to hell with the frost fire. The thought made her angry. I’m no delicate flower, she told herself. She lifted her head up, threw back her shoulders and walked right up to him and stopped.

“You, Konowa Swift Dragon, are my elf.” After everything she’d been through, all the pain, all the fear, and all the uncertainty, she was certain about this. She’d found him. She reached up, put her hand around the back of his neck, and pulled him down toward her. Frost fire needled into her hands, but it could have been dragon teeth and she wouldn’t have let go. Their lips met. The kiss was unlike any she had ever experienced. It was cold cold lightning, sweet and clear like fresh spring water. His right arm curved around her waist pulling her in close. The frost fire sparked across her back, but she barely noticed. She was lost in a feeling so wondrous that pain would have to wait. She could have stayed there in his arms forever, but long before she was ready to let go, he pulled away. She could still taste him on her lips.

“Ummm, I fwink my wips are nuwmb,” he said, his cheeks flushing red.

“Mwine twwo,” she said, not caring one bit.

Whistles and approving clucks suggested the nearby Iron Elves approved.

“There’s still the matter of the rakkes,” Hrem said, dabbing at the side of his head where a thin trickle of blood was seeping from the wound. “How many soldiers are out here with you, Major?”

“Fwowwow me,” Konowa said, then stopped and rubbed the back of his hand against his lips before trying again. “Follow me, and I’ll show you.” This time Konowa did turn and began striding toward the fort. Jir bounded to his side and butted his head against his knee, almost knocking him over. Konowa reached down with his hand and scratched the bengar’s head leaving a patch of glittering frost on the animal’s fur.

Visyna smiled. She took hold of Chayii’s arm and they followed with the soldiers bringing up the rear. They were surrounded by ravenous monsters intent on their destruction, caught up in the complex web of a demented elf witch, and in the middle of a snow-covered desert, yet her overwhelming feeling was of absolute bliss. She had her elf, and he felt the same way about her as she did about him. Nothing in this world or any other could surpass how good that made her feel.

“I remember when Yimt first told me about you,” Chayii said as they walked along. “I must admit I did not approve.”

Visyna could only smile. Her cheeks actually hurt because she couldn’t stop grinning. “And now?” she asked, knowing the answer.

“And now I’m wondering when I will have grandchildren?”

Visyna’s grin vanished. “We, uh, we only just-”

Chayii squeezed her arm and smiled at her. “I tease,” she said, “for now.”

Visyna noticed that Konowa had slowed to try and overhear their conversation. She took the opportunity to change the subject.

“What was that green fire and why were the rakkes so frightened of it?” she asked.

Konowa slowed enough to walk beside her. “Copper dust and shavings. It burns green. Seems rakkes associate that with some kind of nasty bug that they instinctively fear. Wish I’d known this a few months ago.”

“Rakkes were extinct a few months ago,” Visyna said.

As if to put a point on her thought a rakke bellowed into the night. Several returned the cry. They were gathering for another attack.

“They’re stupid, but persistent,” Konowa said. “We need to move faster.”

Visyna reached out and touched his arm, knowing it would sting. “Everyone is tired and hurt. We’re lucky to be standing at all.”

Konowa slowed. He turned and looked at her. His face was drawn and he looked every bit as exhausted as she felt. “I know, and I’m sorry, but we really have to get out of here.”

“And you came out here by yourself, for us?”

Konowa smiled. “Not exactly, I did bring one other soldier along to help.”

The ground began to slope upward and she saw the dark outlines of large boulders ahead of her. A shadow detached from the side of one and began to move toward them.

“Konowa,” she said, moving to place her body in front of Chayii’s.

“You don’t have to worry-he’s not dangerous unless he starts talking.”

Like the ghost he should have been, Yimt materialized out of the snow and came to a halt, his metal teeth shining like polished diamonds. “I ain’t dead, in case you were wondering.”

For a minute, the dwarf disappeared as Hrem and Scolly mobbed him. Inkermon and Zwitty eased forward cautiously, their right hands extended for a quick shake, but Hrem reached out and pulled both of them into the scrum and whatever ill-blood existed between the soldiers and their sergeant appeared, at least for the moment, to be forgotten.

“All right, let him breathe,” Konowa ordered, breaking up the reunion. The pile parted and Yimt straightened his caerna and caught Visyna’s eye.

“Miss Red Owl,” he said, turning to Chayii, doffing his shako and bowing his head toward the elf. “Miss Tekoy,” he said as he repeated the gesture. “I understand you did this world a great service.”

“It was him or us,” Visyna said. She saw Konowa’s eyes go wide, then he nodded in approval. She nodded back, wishing Konowa was congratulating her for anything else. Taking a life should never be a happy occasion.

“Damn straight,” Yimt said. “It’s what I’ve been trying to get through this lot’s thick melons from the day I set eyes on them.” He paused as he looked over the soldiers and his smile vanished. “Teeter?”

“He went down fighting,” Hrem said, his voice catching.

Yimt nodded. “Aye, that he would. Well,” he said, clapping his hands together, “we’ll drink to him later. Right now we need to get climbing.”

“You might want this,” Hrem said, holding out the dwarf’s drukar.

Yimt’s mouth opened and closed, but no words issued forth. He reached out a hand and took the blade, staring at it the way Visyna had at Konowa. “I never thought I’d see this again,” he finally managed.

“Sorry we couldn’t get your shatterbow, too,” Hrem said.

Yimt waved away the apology. “Lil’ Nipper served me well, but when Kritton shot me, I lost my grip on it and it cracked when it hit the floor. It was tough, but I had to leave it behind. I did, however, find a rather nasty little surprise in the library that more than made up for it,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

Two rakkes emerged out of the darkness and charged straight at the group, ending the conversation.

Jir’s claws flashed and one of the creatures fell to the snow, its legs tangled in its own spilled intestines. The second met its fate at the end of Yimt’s drukar as the dwarf buried the blade deep into the creature’s chest.

The smell of hot blood filled the air, and the rakke howls grew in ferocity.

“Still works,” Yimt said, trying to pull the blade out. “Now we really need to go,” Konowa said, directing them toward the rocks. “It’s steep and it’s slippery, so watch your step but move as fast as you can.”

“A little help,” Yimt said, struggling to pull the drukar out of the rakke’s chest.

Hrem walked over and placing a boot on the rakke’s rib cage heaved and freed the blade.

“Always nice to have a big, strong man around,” Yimt said, patting Hrem on the forearm. “Now get your arse up that hill and mind you don’t trip on the twine. Oh, and watch out for the dead rakkes. They’re with us now.”

Visyna looked at the dwarf. “There are rakkes up there, too?”

Yimt looked like he was about to explain, but Jir’s growl changed his mind. “Let’s hope we have all the time in the world later to chat. For now, up you go,” he said, shooing her toward the rocks.

“Wait, aren’t you coming with us?”

The soldiers turned when she asked the question, and she could read the concern on their faces. Having just discovered their sergeant was alive, they weren’t about to lose him again.

“Steady now, boys and girls, your old sergeant isn’t leaving. I’m just going to lag behind a tad to keep these critters from getting too frisky and galloping up after us.”

“I’ll stay with you then,” Hrem said, stepping down from a rock and coming back toward Yimt.

“Your heart’s as big as your head, and it’s to your credit, but there ain’t room among these rocks for a big job like you. You just get along and help the others. I’ll be fine, and I won’t be far behind.” He stood up a little straighter. “So now’s the time to follow the twine.”

“Yimt of the warm breeze, it is very good to be in your company again,” Chayii said.

“You flatter me, madam,” Yimt said, “now get your pretty little self up those rocks and take the rest of this rabble with you.”

“Everyone, start climbing,” Konowa said. “Now. And believe it or not, that’s actually an order.”

Visyna’s face flushed, and the familiar urge to snap back at Konowa danced behind her teeth, or maybe it was just the aftereffects of the kiss. This time, however, she wasn’t looking for a fight, but for a way to draw him closer. She longed to feel his body pressed up against hers again. It was beyond infuriating that now that they were together in both presence and emotion, they were still apart because of the oath. She wondered if that fact made her desire for him that much stronger, but she didn’t think so. She wanted him, and she knew he wanted her, too.

“Now off you go,” Yimt said, twirling the drukar in his hands and either not knowing or not caring that it was spraying blood everywhere as he did it. “I will be right behind you.”

Visyna reluctantly turned her back and began climbing. She held out her hand and guided Chayii over a cracked boulder. There was a path of sorts to follow that Konowa and Yimt had made on their way down along with a grubby-looking piece of twine laying on top of the snow. She paused as she looked at the twine closer. It appeared to be flecked with copper as well.

“Do you know why green fire or insects would frighten rakkes so much?” she asked Chayii.

“Are you asking if I was alive when rakkes still roamed the earth?”

Visyna mentally cursed herself. “I wasn’t trying to imply. . I just meant. .” she sighed and looked at the elf. “Well, yes, I guess that is what I am asking.”

Chayii brushed some snow from her hair and considered the question. “I was not there. There are many things in this world older than I, child.”

Visyna accepted the soft rebuke with a smile. “But I doubt few as wise, or as kind.”

“I have my moments,” Chayii said.

From a few feet below them, Yimt bellowed. “C’mon you mangy bastards! You want fresh meat, I’m right here! Maybe a little gamey, but nothing you brutes can’t choke down.”

Visyna turned to look. Yimt was standing on a boulder, his drukar casually resting over his shoulder, his other hand firmly on his hip and his caerna waving merrily in the wind.

“Oh my,” Visyna said,

“Indeed,” Chayii said. “Quite impressive.”

Visyna didn’t think her cheeks could get any hotter. “We should probably keep climbing,” she said, desperate to change the subject.

“Yes, I suppose we should,” Chayii replied, lingering a moment longer to watch the dwarf. She turned back to climb and saw Visyna looking at her. “I very much love my fool of a husband, but as we say in the Long Watch, ‘You may admire another tree’s nuts as long as you don’t harvest them.’ “

I was wrong, Visyna realized. My cheeks can get hotter.