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27—Rescue and Confinement

  Nothing intercepted the trio as they left the safety of the witch’s glade to travel to the meeting place appointed by her masters. When they arrived, representatives of the four main elements were already waiting.

  A water elemental swayed in a graceful column in a reed-lined pool fed by water diverted from the river. It had chosen a serpentine form, but without scales. It’s human-like head was hairless. The creature had arrived with an entourage, and half a dozen smaller forms rose around it, swaying with liquid grace.

  An air elemental revealed its presence in the rustle of leaves and tossing of grass. It kicked its way through the few fallen leaves of early autumn. Watching them flutter and swirl, Raomar sensed the elemental’s pleasure.

  There are two of them, he realized, feeling the brush of a warm, spring-like gust, and then the icier touch of a breeze that reminded him of snow-melt in the high peaks.

  An earth elemental appeared. It’s mole-like head appearing from beneath an undulating wave of grass that rolled through the center of the clearing. With its black eyes gleaming with the dull sharpness of stone, an earth elemental drew itself out of the ground to settle in a neat coil, near the pond.

  It had brought no companions, but when Raomar met its gaze, he had a sense of being watched by others, a sense of something else looking out through its eyes. Looking into them, he could easily imagine other elementals of earth and stone observing him from the comfort of an underground chamber. Looking into that pitch-black gaze it was easy to imagine the warmth of rock surrounding them, keeping them safe from the open ground above.

  On the opposite side of the glade to the pond, a large, stone-walled fire pit had been dug. Matching the pond in its size, it was full of burning embers from which rose the slightly acrid scent of coal, the sharp scent of burning pine and the sweeter scent of…

  Something else, Raomar decided, unable to place it.

  The heady scent drifted across the clearing, mingling with the smell of freshly-turned earth and clean water. Smoke wafted upward in a variety of grays and whites, and heat shimmered in clear waves over the pit itself.

  Flame rose from its depths, in reality a fire elemental settled comfortably in the heated coals, like some great fiery bird resting on its nest.

  The crone paused at the edge of the glade, bowing toward the center, before straightening and extending her hand to indicate her guests.

  “Raomar Filameth, Chosen of the Gods,” she said, by way of introduction, “And his guardian, Grunwol of the North.”

  The earth elemental rose with serpentine grace, the sound of stones grinding in its depths vying with the soft rustle of earth. It bent its head and regarded them closely.

  “We appreciate the part you have to play in this matter,” the earth elemental rumbled. The earth rippled as it approached. “But why have you come?”

  The crone answered for them.

  “They wish to aid us in rescuing the wizardess from the Old One’s altar,” she told them.

  “They do?” The earth elemental’s voice reminded Raomar of landslides and mountains colliding. “But the journey to Wildejun is long, and the Meld, but two nights’ hence.”

  “And it will mean ten years without power, if he fails to be there on time,” the air elemental whispered anxiously, its words lifting Raomar’s hair and riffling the edges of Grunwol’s cloak.

  “Ten years in which the Old One will grow in power and grow his armies,” the water elemental added, its voice wavering in alarm. “His corruption will spread. Perhaps beyond our power to repair.”

  “This cannot be!” the fire elemental spat.

  “We forbid it,” the earth elemental added, its voice grating.

  Raomar flinched from the avalanche in its tones, but he stood his ground.

  “It must be,” he insisted,” for I will not leave unless I know Alessia is safe.”

  “The wizardess?” the air elemental demanded, wind shrieking in its tones.

  “You risk too much,” the fire elemental sputtered.

  “We cannot guarantee your survival, or the survival of your friends,” the water elemental put in, adding in a cajoling burble, “And there is no one able to take your place in the gods’ errand.”

  “Then they’d better protect me, as well,” Raomar growled. “For if Alessia falls to the Old One’s touch, then all else is in vain. The Old One must remain contained if we are to have the smallest chance of defeating him.”

  He tasted the truth in his words the moment he spoke them, and the elementals heard it, too. He watched them draw back, each one swaying in place as it considered what it had smelt and heard.

  “Why was he imprisoned, in the first place?” Grunwol asked, before any of them could come to a decision.

  They pivoted slowly toward him.

  “Why?” the Northman continued fiercely, “if he is so dangerous, was he allowed to live?”

  Fire, water, earth and air, conferred. Their voices hissed and whispered and sputtered, crackled, roared and ground against each other until, at last, they had exhausted their arguments. As their conversation died to silence, they turned to Raomar with their reply.

  “They could not,” Fire stated.

  “Could not what?” Grunwol wanted to know.

  “They could not cease his being,” Water clarified.

  “He could not be killed,” Earth admitted with slow certainty.

  “They were not strong enough,” the air elemental sighed, reluctantly adding, “Capture and containment were the only way.

  “But…” Grunwol frowned, looking pensive. “If the gods that were before could not defeat him, and he must be contained if we are to have the vaguest hope, what is the point of us cowering in safety while the key to his freedom stands in jeopardy?”

  “And saving the wizardess is key to that,” Raomar added. “Who is to say that is not the first task the gods have assigned to me?”

  “Because we were there when the goddess of the dark gave the order for you to seek your answers in Wildejun,” the air elemental added softly.

  Raomar pivoted toward it, but fire’s voice rose in a demanding crackle, and water hissed and splashed in response. Earth rumbled, and soon their voices blended to create a cacophony that reminded Raomar of the balance of life.

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  Watching them confer, Raomar watched the sun’s gradual slide down the afternoon sky, but he dared not intervene. While the elementals could not have missed the truth, or the logic of his argument, they were far from granting him permission to help save his friend.

  As the shadows grew longer, he began to worry. With the ceremony happening that night, Alessia didn’t have much time…and neither did they. He was just about to intervene, when all conversation ceased, and the earth elemental turned toward them.

  “You will wait here,” it stated gravely, and both Raomar and Grunwol opened their mouths to protest. Before either could make a sound, it continued, “Our servant will fetch the Briar’s daughter. Her skills will be needed, tonight.”

  “So, we’re going?” Raomar asked, feeling a faint tendril of hope.

  The earth elemental dipped its head.

  “As soon as the Briar’s daughter has been brought, warriors of the air will carry you and your companions to the temple. “Once the ceremony has begun and the Old One’s servant has relinquished his defenses, then we will enter the temple.”

  “There is little time,” the fire element crackled anxiously. “You must distract the king’s undead servants, and free as many of those chained to the pillars as you can. The fewer the Old One has to feed his power—and the more we can divide his attention—the more likely it is we will escape with the mage and her apprentices.”

  “Go,” the air elemental instructed the crone. “We will keep watch with your friends, and guard them in their vigil. Dusk is falling the ceremony will soon start. By the time you return, our brothers and sisters will be waiting.”

  The old woman nodded, and moved spryly from the glade. Grunwol and Raomar watched her leave, then waited silently, keeping an eye on their four elemental companions. Left to his thoughts, Raomar’s fears for Alessia mounted as twilight fled into dusk, and dusk carried them closer to the fullness of night.

  As full dark cloaked them in velvet, the air elemental spoke, its voice snapping like an ice-laden breeze.

  “Stand back,” it ordered. “The warriors arrive, and they need room to land.”

  “Stand by me,” the fire elemental instructed. “My warmth will carry you through the flight.”

  “She must hurry,” the water elemental bubbled. “I fear the evil has already begun.”

  “She comes,” the air elemental soothed, and not long after, the crone returned, bringing Brianda with her.

  The girl’s face formed a pale oval in the dark, but she didn’t look afraid.

  “I instructed the apprentices to remain in the cottage,” the crone informed them. “There are many things that roam the riverside at night, and not all of them are sealed to my will, nor I to theirs.”

  “Where will you bring Alessia?” Raomar asked.

  “Back to the cottage,” the crone replied. “There is room on the path outside for the warriors to land.”

  By warriors Raomar guessed she meant the air elementals. Just as he looked around to see where they were, a breeze bent the branches at the edge of the clearing.

  “They come,” the crone stated, stepping away from the fire elemental’s warmth.

  Another breeze kicked up the leaves on the western edge of the clearing, as an air elemental touched down. The first was already lifting the leaves at the clearing’s edge, piling them into a twisting funnel of dancing air.

  A third elemental arrived just as the second was building its own funnel of coruscating leaves. The witch woman picked her way between them, her footsteps becoming faster as she twisted and turned in a whirling dance of her own.

  He tensed as the leaves at the old crone’s feet began to rise around her, and her form thinned and shifted until another funnel of air danced amidst the first three. Raomar stared at it, finding it hard to believe the creature the elderly scholar of elemental lore had become.

  His eyes widened. He’d heard of shapeshifters, even known a few, but he’d never heard tales of witches who transformed into dancing columns of air. The elementals continued to spin around them, picking up speed and dropping their gathered leaves. If he hadn’t been watching her as she transformed, Raomar wouldn’t have known which of them was the witch.

  “Move to the center of the clearing and leave a yard between you,” the fire elemental instructed. “They will need room to pick you up.”

  Pick us up? Raomar wondered, stepping forward.

  Grunwol and Brianda moved beside him, stepping a little away from him until they were separated by the distance the fire elemental recommended.

  The sound of a great rushing wind, engulfed him at the same time as he was enveloped in the grasp of air more solid than it should have been. Raomar gasped, wrapping his arms over the arms that held him.

  Gusts of air whipped the branches of the bushes bordering the clearing, and he was lifted from the ground. The roar reached a crescendo as he speared upward, bursting through the canopy and into the night sky beyond. Glancing down, Raomar saw the last of the autumn leaves lifted with him, drop to the treetops below.

  * * *

  Far below the palace, the wizardess, Alessia Mistlewood, woke in a sudden sweating fright. Unsure what had pulled her from her doze, she forced herself to lie quietly amidst the straw in her cell, and listened to the dark. It took her a moment to register the presence that had woken her—the thing that guarded her, even though she was still too weak to call the magic to her hands.

  The king was taking no chances. He had made it clear how much his god, his Walshira, desired her power, and had described with chilling clarity exactly what the god would do with her abilities, her emotions, and her soul, as the king seasoned that sacrifice with her pain.

  Alessia dreaded the coming night. She dreaded it because, when all the king had described was done, her torment would not be over. The Old One would claim her, taking her to live with him, as he completed the torture the king had begun.

  She would be stripped, peeled like an onion, until he had taken every ounce of energy from her, and there was nothing left. No wonder he’d left the beast to guard her.

  Keeping the beast in mind, she slowly rolled over to face the creature sharing her cell. Even though she’d expected it, she couldn’t quite manage to stifle a scream at the sight of it. At first glance, it resembled a serpent, but on closer inspection…

  Alessia shuddered.

  Looking up at the six feet of it she could see, Alessia couldn’t help wondering how much more of it lay beneath the dungeon’s flagstone floor.

  Fear clogged her throat, and she stifled a sob, scrambling carefully to her feet and backing away. It was hard to quell the panic she felt when she realized she couldn’t sense the magic that once came so easily to her touch.

  The creature followed her, lowering its head so it could look into her face, its maw widening into something resembling a smile. Alessia tried to back further away from it, but only succeeded in stumbling up against the cell wall. There she dropped into a crouch, covering her head with her arms, and curling against the stone.

  The thing pressed closer, its lips parting as it flicked its tongue out. As much as the rest of the creature resembled a snake, its tongue did not. Its tongue resembled a dog’s tongue, only grotesquely swollen and covered in lumps and hairy nodules, all coated with a thick river of green-and-black slime.

  Alessia screamed, again, shoving both hands hard against the creature’s muzzle and drawing her knees close to her chest.

  The rasp of its tongue across her hands and forearms made her cry out again, this time in pain and revulsion. Slick, gravelly stickiness grated against her skin and the creature’s breath surrounded her, the stench of it coating her.

  The floor of the cell rippled beneath the straw as the creature drew closer, pressing the weight of its body against her. Alessia tried to stand, but the beast swept its body up through the stone floor beneath her, taking her feet out from under her.

  Alessia landed awkwardly, and tried to roll away from her tormenter. The creature rippled closer, its movement almost playful as it tilted the floor, making her roll toward it. She swung her legs around, kicking against its stony hide with her feet, wishing it would go and find something else to do to relieve its boredom.

  “Leave me alone!”

  In the corridor outside the cell, she heard footsteps. With another frantic kick at the beast’s hide, she scrabbled frantically toward the door. The creature whipped its head around, cocking it to listen.

  The footsteps stopped outside the door, and Alessia drew a deep breath, preparing to shout for help, but the creature twisted, lowering its stinking maw to within an inch of her face, and she knew better than to make a sound.

  As the beast pinned her with its gaze and fetid breath, the person in the corridor, continued on their way. As soon as the sound of their steps had faded, the beast gave what sounded like a grunt of satisfaction, and blew out a long and stench-filled breath, before lowering its head.

  Alessia tried to shimmy away from it, but couldn’t move an inch, as it opened its mouth and ran its tongue from her toes to the top of her head. She froze at its touch, not daring to move as slime covered her leggings, tunic, and face.

  Through eyes stuck half-shut, she saw the creature draw itself back to inspect its handiwork, the same self-satisfied smile splitting its face. With what sounded like a gurgle of amusement, it sank slowly back into the floor, its gaze mocking her as it went.

  When it had disappeared beneath the flagstones, Alessia collapsed to the floor and wept. She didn’t notice when the wall opposite her rippled, and an imprint of the creature’s face peered across the cell at where she lay.

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