The Light of Burning Shadows

THIRTY-ONE

Visyna grabbed hold of Jir’s neck as she and the soldiers were escorted by Kritton and the elves through the side tunnel. With every step Visyna felt the ancient power that resided here. They walked in silence, and Visyna lost track of time as they went. No one talked. The air was heavy with power, and worked to stifle any conversation. Finally, the way ahead lightened, and the group was led out into a room so large Visyna could not see its far end.

She gaped at what she saw. Pillars carved from the very rock rose to the ceiling hundreds of feet above. Hundreds upon hundreds of alcoves dotted the walls. In them Visyna could see endless rows of books, scrolls, parchments, and more lining the shelves. The main floor was a sea of artifacts. Brass, ivory, marble, glassware, rich brocades, bundles of tapestries, gems, gold coins and jewelry, and treasures Visyna couldn’t begin to comprehend. Yet that wasn’t the most startling find. In the distance, she saw a huge cluster of trees.

There was a forest growing within the edifice.

Farther on there appeared to be a lake. The water rippled as if a light breeze were playing upon it. Visyna’s hair fluttered across her eyes and she realized there really was a breeze.

It made absolutely no sense, yet there they were.

“Welcome,” Kritton said, “to the Lost Library of Kaman Rhal.”

“It’s really true,” Visyna said, looking around her as the others did the same. Now she noticed more of the elven soldiers of the original Iron Elves. They moved among the alcoves carrying large bundles. They were in a hurry, grabbing up armfuls of books and scrolls, running them out to large tables set up in the middle of the library, and placing them there, where a group of dwarves were sorting them into different piles. Wagons pulled by camels were neatly lined along one side of the tables. They were loading a caravan inside the library.

A dwarf overseeing the operation looked their way and came over.

“Griz Jahrfel!” Hrem said, recognizing the dwarf.

“We meet again,” Griz said, bowing when he saw Visyna. “My lady, gentleman. I see you’ve discovered our little hideaway.” There was genuine pride in his voice.

“But how, how did you find this?” Visyna asked.

Griz winked at her. “Legends and myths aren’t what they used to be, or so I’ve been told. The Lost Library was never really all that lost. The sandstorm that buried Kaman Rhal and the town of Urjalla was the real tragedy. This library has always been here, it’s just that everyone who knew about it died. Well, almost everyone. A few so-called descendants of Kaman Rhal knew of its existence and passed the information down generation to generation until such time that the library would be revealed again.” He looked up to the ceiling. “A time like now, with the imminent return of the Jewel of the Desert. The Suljak decided it was well past time to move more of the…precious items, knowing the Prince and the Empire were sure to come.”

“The Suljak knows? But you’re looting the library,” Visyna said, still not believing what she was seeing.

Griz nodded. “Aye, you could call it that, but pretty much everything in here was looted from somewhere else at one time or another. You know the old saying: “You never really own anything-you just loot it until the next bugger comes along and takes it.’”

Visyna turned on Kritton. “This is how you break the oath, by working with thieves? Where is your honor?” How could these be Konowa’s elves? She looked around her and raised her voice at the other elves. “Konowa is still out there fighting for you! He leads men like these,” she said, pointing to Hrem, Zwitty, and Teeter, “against all enemies, including the forces of the Shadow Monarch. And here you skulk like petty criminals. How dare-”

Kritton lunged forward and grabbed her by the throat. His fingers were ice cold as frost fire singed her flesh. “Don’t you ever question our honor, wench!”

Jir’s fangs and the three muskets of the human soldiers found themselves facing dozens of muskets held by the elves. “Let her go!” Hrem yelled. Black frost coated his bayonet, but it did not flame.

“The magic here is too old and too strong for that to work,” Kritton said, still holding Visyna’s throat. She could breathe, but each time she did a frigid gale enveloped her lungs in pain. “This is our leverage. The Prince wants the library. It’s all he ever talks about. His search for knowledge while the world slowly goes insane. Fine, if he wants knowledge, we have it, and for a price, we’ll sell it to him.”

“You want to cut a deal?” Hrem asked, his voice incredulous.

“We want our honor restored. We want the stain of our disgrace removed once and forever. It’s a simple enough deal. These elves know we were deceived and dishonored by Swift Dragon and the Empire. They had a lot of time to dwell on it. When I told them how the Iron Elves had been reformed without them, well, they saw things as they really are.”

“I doubt that, traitor,” a booming voice shouted from another tunnel entrance.

Everyone turned as Sergeant Yimt Arkhorn stepped into the library followed by Chayii and the other soldiers. Visyna tried to speak, but Kritton’s grip remained firm.

“Let Visyna go, Kritton-you’re in enough trouble as it is,” Yimt said. His shatterbow was held steady at his hip, both barrels pointing directly at the elf.

Kritton laughed. “Or what? You’ll shoot me? We both know you’d kill her, too, if you tried, and there are hundreds of elves here who’ll shoot down every one of you a moment later.”

“Sergeant, lower the shatterbow and let’s talk dwarf to dwarf,” Griz said, raising his hands for calm. “This is a complicated situation that requires time to fully understand.”

Yimt nodded as if in agreement, then turned and pointed his shatterbow at the wagons being loaded. All work immediately ceased. “Looks like a lot of valuable, and, if I’m not mistaken, flammable things you got there.”

“Don’t be a fool, Arkhorn,” Griz shouted, backing away from Yimt. “Kritton, let her go. This is insanity. There’s enough treasure here for everyone to get whatever they want a thousand times over.”

“Not their honor,” Yimt said, looking at the elves. “You’re still soldiers. Act like it.”

Visyna watched even as her vision began to go gray around the edges. The elves looked to Kritton. For the first time she saw doubt enter their eyes. They knew this was wrong. Whatever Kritton had said to them couldn’t be stronger than what they knew in their hearts.

“You’ve lost, Arkhorn,” Kritton said. “The rest of you, drop your weapons, now.”

He squeezed Visyna’s throat even tighter and she convulsed. The room began to swim.

Muskets clattered to the floor. The pressure on her throat lessened and then he released her. She gulped warm air and sank to her knees as Chayii ran over to hold her.

Kritton grabbed his musket in both hands again and pointed it at Yimt. “They know who they are, and they know what’s been stolen from them. This,” he said, swiveling his head to indicate the library, “is our way of setting things right.”

“This,” Yimt said, looking at the elves, “is looting. How in blue blazes do you think this restores your honor? Do you think you can buy it back? How much?” he asked, pointing his shatterbow at one of the elves. “How much does it cost to buy an elf these days?”

“You…don’t…understand!” Kritton shouted. “Our honor-”

“Stuff your bloody honor!” Yimt bellowed. “There’s more important things to worry about now than your damn hurt feelings!”

Kritton trembled with rage. The elves looked between him and Yimt, but still none made a move.

Yimt stood there for a moment longer, looking as many elves in the eye as would meet his gaze. Finally, he glanced over at Visyna and smiled. “Tell Rallie the secret ingredient in all my stews is love.” He pulled the trigger on his shatterbow and sent two explosive darts hurtling across the room. They hit a wagon and exploded, sending flaming debris twenty feet into the air. The camel team startled and broke into a gallop, pulling the burning wagon with them. Fire broke out in a trail behind the runaway camel team as elves and dwarves ran for cover.

“No!” Kritton shouted.

Visyna felt Chayii tense, and they both acted at the same time. Chayii’s dagger was already flying through the air as Visyna brought her hands in front of her and began to weave, but they were already too late.

Kritton fired.

Chayii’s blade caught Kritton in the shoulder, knocking his musket from his grasp. Visyna tried to create a barrier in the air in front of the musket, but the energy she tried to weave burned her too severely. She cried out and had to stop.

Kritton’s shot hit Yimt in the center of his chest. His mouth opened in surprise as the shatterbow slid from his hand and clattered to the floor. He brought his right hand up to his chest and placed it over the wound.

“Bugger,” he remarked, then fell face-forward, motionless.

“Yimt!” Scolly cried, running forward toward the dwarf. The elves blocked his path.

Griz strode forward, pulling at his beard. “Damn it all to hell! All right, we’re out of here now. This place is going to become a funeral pyre. You,” he said, pointing at Kritton. “You get your elves to get this lot out of here. We’ll meet at the rendezvous point in three days’ time as agreed.” With that he took one last look at Yimt’s body and turned and hurried off. Flames were climbing the walls around them as thick black smoke billowed from the alcoves.

Kritton motioned to the elves to get them moving.

Tears filled Visyna’s eyes, but it wasn’t from the smoke. She took one last look at where Yimt lay and then was pushed along toward the far side of the library. The last thing she saw was smoke rolling over the dwarf’s body and then a shadowy figure standing where the dwarf had fallen.