Part Seven: The Coming Storm
Chapter Twenty
YAVARA
I blasted through the roof the chieftain's hut. I didn't stop for their exclamations, nor to see their faces of wonder before I scorched through the sky. Prestira's dying thoughts were echoing in my mind.
They took her,
she said,
they took Elena!
Stay with me!
It's too late. It's all my fault; I did this.
No!
I thought,
This was Leveria, not you!
I killed Patricia,
Prestira's telepathic voice sobbed,
I burned her alive. She screamed 'why' the whole time.
Prestira...
Tell Zander...
Prestira sobbed,
Tell Zander...
The connection between us broke. I saw it arc across the horizon, and disappear. I raced after it as fast as I could go, my tears flying across my face as the wind pushed them back. I called for Prestira over and over again, but she didn't answer. The trees beneath me bent as I blew past them, a flurry of needles erupting from their stems. The Pines fell away beneath me, the foliage changing to spruces. I searched manically, looking left and right across the landscape for anything. The biggest tree I'd ever seen towered over everything ten miles to the west. I rocketed for it, my eyes scanning the ground. As I neared the tree, I came upon a clearing where hundreds of figures were standing in a circle. I plummeted to the center of it.
I didn't notice the nymphs gawking at me. I hit the ground in a scramble, and crawled on my hands and knees. Prestira's face shown in the afternoon light, her white eyes staring at nothing, blood trickling from her ruby lips. Patricia was hardly more than bone, but it didn't matter, for my mind painted her visage over the horror before me. I saw the shape of her cheek, the line of her jaw, and the bow of her brow, and oh god, it couldn't be anyone else! I pulled the bodies into my arms, and wailed. It was my fault. I'd been too slow. I'd been too weak.
I felt soft hands come down on my shoulders. I looked up to see Crystal looking down at me. Her eyes no longer bore irises, but were instead glowing purple ovals, brimming with sorrow.
"Queen Yavara," she said with a voice that was not her own, "Adarian took Master to Castle Thorum. I can see them through the roots; they're already almost there."
I crouched down and prepared myself to launch, but Crystal stopped me with a calming touch, her power draining my muscles of strength.
"You won't catch them." Crystal said, "They have ballista mounting the walls waiting for you; it's a trap."
"I won't leave her there!" I yelled back, "Let go of me Crystal!"
"I am not Crystal."
THOMAS ADARIAN
There was a time when Alkandi was nothing more than a gang leader in the port city of Semptium, where the Knife River enters the sea at the northern boundary of the Pines. The vassal territories of the Great Forest were mercantile lands then, and the governors there ruled by the doctrine of capitalism. Nobody saw the threat Alkandi posed, and those that might've, were blinded by the bribes she gave. Nobody saw until Semptium was surrounded, besieged and sacked. Then everyone saw, and the world watched in horror as the jewel of elven imperialism became the pulsing tumor called, 'Alkandra.' The cancer soon spread. The military paths that the Highlands had paved to tame the Great Forest were used to create an empire of anarchy. Spectator sports were replaced with executions, theatre was replaced with rape and torture, and markets vended slaves instead of silver. Once the cancer had consumed the Great Forest, Alkandi set her sights on the Highlands itself.
Castle Thorum was built by a nation in crisis. The Alkandran hordes were a fortnight from crossing the Knife River, and all that stood between them and the Highlands was one bridge, and a military outpost. The king was scrambling to assemble his army, but it would take months. Peacetime had made the Highlands weak, but it had also made it industrious. Every resource of magic and mortar was sent to this convergence of the Knife River, and from it, a miracle was born. Castle Thorum's outer walls were seventy feet of shear rock, its secondary walls stood another sixty feet, and its tower reached two-hundred feet from the ground. The ramparts were lined with ballista, the gates were reinforced steel, and the bridge was a narrow slab of rock fit for no more than two abreast horses. The hordes of Alkandra crashed upon the high walls, and drew back like the ebbing tide. Though they'd gained their kingdom and cut the elven empire in half, they would not take one step into the Highlands. So when I heard the castle gates shut behind me, I felt a great surge of relief.
The rangers stared at Elena with cold hatred as I trotted into the courtyard. She'd always been a black sheep, but the connotation had never been quite so literal as now. But Elena's social anxiety seemed to have been cured with her transformation, for she stared unflinchingly into the gazes of those she'd betrayed. I had to admit, I was proud of her.
"Commander." Chastian said stiffly, stepping beside my horse and pointedly ignoring Elena's stare.
"Have Private Cialia prepare our portal." I said to my squire, dismounting, "Make sure the watch commanders have full rations and double supplies."
"Already done, sir." Chastian inclined his head to the gold-plated guard standing at the mouth of the catacombs, "He came through it a few hours ago on orders of the queen's magistrate. What's it mean?"
"It means I'm not in charge anymore." I muttered, looking at the royal knight, "Go, Chastian."
The boy took the reins of my horse, and led it, and the hogtied hermaphrodite into the catacombs below the tower. I watched the heads of every ranger follow Elena until the reigns were taken by the royal knight, and they both disappeared into darkness. What would happen down there was out of the realm of ranger justice, and so, I washed my hands of it. Then I sighed, and began the arduous journey up to twenty flights of stairs to my quarters at the top of the tower. When I got there, I immediately disrobed, filled the tub, and commenced washing the death from my body. There was a scratching at my door. I wrapped a towel around my waist, and opened the door. The fox stared up at me, panting happily. I gave her a scratch behind the ear, and beckoned her inside. After looking both ways down the hallway, I shut the door, and locked it. The fox hopped on my bed, her tail wagging. I nodded, and she transformed.
In her humanoid form, April had tan skin, auburn hair and big brown eyes. She retained her fox ears, whiskers, and bushy orange tail, and though her body was definitely human, she retained somewhat of her canine proportions; wide hips, thick thighs, and a slender abdomen with a petite bust. She was naked save for the collar that wrapped her neck like a choker, a nameplate dangling in the hollow of her throat. To me, she was the most beautiful thing in the world. She'd been my stalwart companion since I was a boy, and the love of my life since I was a man. And if she were ever discovered for what she truly was, she'd be killed on sight, and I would be executed as a traitor.
"Busy day?" April asked. The implied question was of course, 'why didn't you take me with you?'
"It was." I sighed, sitting on the bed.
"You could tell me about it." April said as she nestled herself against me, "I have two sets of ears; I'm a very good listener."
