David Dalglish - Wrath of Lions

“And if I do not?”

The beast tucked the journal beneath its arm and slammed a fist into the bars. Anger washed away the beast’s doubt. “You elves are not timeless, but your lives are long. I will have plenty of time to teach you the glory of dread. Until then, make peace with your father…or what is left of him.” The beast licked its fingers and grinned wickedly. “The rest of him…was delicious.”

The creature pivoted on its heels and lurched away. The heavy door to the dungeon slammed a few moments later. Ceredon closed his eyes, said another prayer to Celestia, and then sat down, cross-legged, on the floor. When he opened his eyes he stared directly at the four heads, focusing on his father’s in particular. A chill worked its way up his spine.

“Orden Thyne, Phyrra Thyne, Tantric Thane, Ruven Sinistel,” he whispered in reverence. “For you, and with Celestia in my heart, I will show no fear, no matter what may come.…”

The raft system that led over the relatively calm waters of the Corinth River was intact. Aully stood on the bank and looked around nervously. There had been no signs of danger in their journey to the edge of Stonewood: no warnings, no traps, no eyes spying on them from the treetops. In fact, to Aully it seemed suspicious because of its normalcy, for the most dangerous monsters lurked in the quiet.

The Corinth was a relatively slender river, only three hundred feet across at its widest. The raft system had been built where it was a mere sixty feet across. Three lengths of thick rope were secured to the trees on either side of the river, one running the length of the span, five feet off the water, the other two fastened to either side of the rickety raft. All one had to do was stand on that raft and use the upper rope to guide it across. Not that the system was necessary under normal circumstances: the Corinth possessed a gentle current that lent itself to swimming. Aully herself had crossed the river many times that way. Yet when she glanced at her people, all of whom were carrying weapons from the cache found along the coast of Ang, she was grateful for the alternate mode of transportation.

“If we aren’t ready now, we never will be,” Lady Audrianna said after Aaromor used the pulley system to lug the raft from the other side of the river. The Lady of Stonewood stepped onto it without another word.

It took ten trips to convey all thirty-two of them to the other side, as the raft could only transport three at once. Aully and Kindren went last with Noni. “For protection,” Aaromar told them. Should an ambush await on the other side, the two youngsters would have the opportunity to flee back into the giant’s land. “Our future lives and dies with you.”

It was a responsibility Aully wasn’t sure she wanted.

When they stepped off the wobbling raft and onto dry land once more, Aully turned to look behind her. The desert and grasslands of Ker were but memories now, the sight of them blocked by the massive trees of Stonewood Forest. She offered a silent prayer to her goddess, and was answered by the hypnotic tweeting of songbirds, a morose sound that did not fill her heart with hope.

Lady Audrianna guided her people through the woods, weaving an indirect path toward their home. The prince and princess were placed in the middle of the party for protection, their cohorts creating a wall of flesh around them. Aully found it more than a little irritating, as her short stature meant that her view was blocked on all sides. The only thing she could see clearly was Kindren, who held her hand as they walked. She kept her eyes on him, drinking in the wonder of his beauty. His devotion to her shone in his eyes whenever he gazed down at her, and she allowed his love to wrap her in a warm bubble.

They walked for an hour without running into any elves. The sun was bright in the sky, sending shafts of illumination through the dense canopy; the birds sang; the forest critters scurried through the underbrush, the larger predators trampling after them. Still, there was not a single familiar face to be seen.

“Where is everyone?” asked Aully.

“I don’t know,” Kindren replied.

“It’s not late. Should there not at least be some children out and about?”

“I don’t know. I have never been here before, remember?”

“Hush,” scolded Aaromar, his gray-green eyes squinting. “I think I hear something.”

The rest of the group halted in their tracks as Aaromar strode away from them, head cocked, ears twitching. Then came the sound of snapping branches, followed by thudding footsteps, and Aully’s breath caught in her throat. These were the sounds of men, not elves. Suddenly, she wondered if they had made the right choice after all. Using Kindren’s shoulder for support, she rose up on her tiptoes so she could get a better view.

Aaromar drew his sword and hunched down, preparing for whatever might come. When finally someone stepped into plain sight from the thick copse of trees, Aully let herself relax. They were elves after all-two girls and one boy, youngsters like her. She knew them well, and a smile stretched across her lips.

“Mella? Lolly? Hadrik?” she said, wedging her way through the wall of flesh. Hands reached out to grab her, but she slithered away. Once free she ran toward her three friends, tears in her eyes.

Her friends’ eyes opened wide and their mouths went agape, like they had just seen a phantom. Narrowly avoided Aaromar’s swiping hand, Aully ran headlong into Hadrik. Fourteen, yet already as tall as Aully’s father had been, the elf careened back on impact.

“Aullienna?” he said as she embraced him. “Aully?”

She drew back from him, and then looked to the left and right, where Mella and Lolly were waiting. There were tears in their eyes, and they leaned into her at once, the four of them becoming a tangle of arms and legs.

“We never thought we’d see you again,” said Lolly.

“They said you were dead,” said Mella.

“Who said she was dead?” asked the voice of Lady Audrianna, and the four young elves detached from one another.

Aully looked up at her mother. Her heart continued to soar until she spotted Kindren’s dejected expression. She tried to beckon him forward without speaking, but he averted his eyes.

The three youths bowed before Lady Audrianna without replying.

“I asked a question,” she said.

Still they were silent. Aullienna stared at their faces, and she realized that her excitement at seeing them had completely blinded her to their expressions.

“They’re scared,” she said, looking to her mother. Audrianna took a step closer to them, still looking regal as ever.

“Speak to me, young ones. What is it that frightens you?”

Hadrik lifted his tear-filled eyes. Aully did not like the look on her friend’s face one bit. She wished Kindren were holding her, especially when Hadrik began glancing this way and that around the clearing.

“Them,” he said.

Silent as an ant crawling across the dirt, countless forms popped up from the dense foliage, some dropping on vines from the treetops. There were at least fifty, Dezren all, pale skinned and slender. They were older elves whom Aully had known her whole life, but a few had their bowstrings drawn, arrows aimed at Lady Audrianna, and the rest kept their hands close to the hilts of their khandars. She recognized Enton, Liliquick, Agnon, and Frellum, among others, all of whom had served her father well over the years. These were the elves who had been chosen to keep watch over the forest in the absence of the lord and lady. Not a single one appeared friendly.

The new arrivals formed a circle around the thirty-two survivors who had fled Dezerea. They then parted, and a single elf approached, his jaw rigid, his blue eyes brimming with arrogance. Aully knew him immediately-Ethir Ayers, the elf Bardiya had accused of murdering his parents. Panic filled her. She dropped her hands to her side, curled her fingers into claws, and began whispering words of magic as the elf drew closer to her mother. Slowly she raised her arms, ready to do to Ethir what she had done to the sandcat on the day Kindren had almost died.