James Barclay - Rise of the TaiGethen

Auum moved his knee and stood back. Takaar got to his feet. His mind was darting here and there; his tormentor was ridiculing his combat skills and the magic within him was unsettled, barely under control. He felt a weight in his mind and a powerful sense of injustice. He gripped Auum’s shoulders.

‘What lies inside me is so hard to control. You see. And now I can see a path. We have been blind, you know. Blind to what is in front of us. There is no time to lose. Perhaps then I can release my pain.’

Look at Auum. I’m not the only one who has no idea what you’re talking about.

‘Shut up, shut up, I cannot focus. Auum, my clear moments are so few, but I was clear when Garan spoke to me and I know what he told me. But with every day I get greyer. In my head. We must fight back while there is still time. Do you not see?’

Congratulations. Not a word of sense. Not a single one.

‘I need you to know I am behind you. Every day I am trying to unpick the mysteries of my gift so I can pass it to those who can use it better than I. To try to build a new strength in elves that will allow us to defend ourselves for generations to come.’

Better.

‘I have to find our new practitioners. I can’t wait here. None of them are here, are they? So stop delaying me and let me go.’

Oh dear.

Takaar fell silent. He couldn’t remember a thing he had just said. Auum prised his hands from his shoulders and Takaar felt the crushing strength in the TaiGethen’s fingers before he was released.

‘There is nothing I want more than for you to go, but I have two problems. I think you are unfit to teach the Il-Aryn, but Onelle seems to trust you. And I think you are unfit to help me get into Ysundeneth, but I have no choice but to trust you.’

Sharp, this Auum, isn’t he?

‘I don’t-’

‘Be silent and listen,’ said Auum. ‘If I had my way, you would not be allowed in the same chamber as anyone who might wield the Il-Aryn. You are a menace, you consort with humans and from one heartbeat to the next you do not know what you will think, do or say. That is how I see you, Takaar.

‘But right now you are going to come with me and my people and help us liberate elves from Ysundeneth because if you do not, there will be more blood on your hands. Am I making sense?’

Takaar shook his head. ‘If you go in there, you will all die.’

‘If we don’t, hundreds of innocents will die, the ClawBound have seen to that.’

‘But you can hear nothing, can you?’ asked Takaar.

‘What do you…’

Auum’s expression cleared and he turned towards Ysundeneth. Takaar could feel him willing the forest to silence, tuning out the ambient sounds, straining his hearing towards the city. He stood there for an age, completely still, and Takaar could find it inside him to admire the elf’s focus. Auum breathed in, uncertain.

‘Why is it so silent?’ he whispered.

‘Because there is to be no death within the walls,’ said Takaar. ‘The humans are reserving that for the rainforest.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Your precious ClawBound have not started a wave of revenge with their actions, they have started a war.’

Auum stared at Takaar with fresh interest and Takaar nodded solemnly and challenged his tormentor to say something. Anything. That voice was silent.

‘This had better not be one of your games,’ said Auum.

Takaar shrugged. ‘You do not need to believe me. Ystormun gave me an ultimatum. I have since spoken to the ClawBound and they will not treat with him. And so the humans will come to finish the job the Ynissul unwittingly invited them into do.’

Auum’s stare did not waver but his eyes widened.

‘You spoke to Ystormun.’

‘I tried to kill Ystormun.’

And failed.

‘And failed,’ said Auum. ‘Why? Magic not strong enough? Arm not quick enough?’

‘Contempt does not become one who has not faced this enemy alone.’

You almost sound impressive. A pity you will never get another chance to.

‘So enlighten me. You were in a position to threaten our greatest enemy and yet… what?’

‘He is protected by more than mere magic. My blade would not even nick his skin.’

Auum turned away. ‘Then perhaps you should keep your blades keener.’

‘Do not presume to judge me. I, who have presided over the deaths of so many, am the only one who can judge me.’ Takaar slapped the heel of a palm to his forehead. ‘And in here, in here, I hold the keys to our survival. You can wait until dawn to see the humans march from their city. I must begin my search for those who might, if you can thwart the humans just a little, return us to greatness.’

Auum was back at him, jabbing a finger into his chest. Takaar didn’t want to, but he whimpered at each impact.

‘And there is the root of my problem with you. Always seeking the ultimate glory. Always needing to be a head higher than the rest of us, desperate to feel the adoration that you once felt on Hausolis. Always keeping something back to retain one trembling hand on power.

‘The elves cannot afford to indulge your self-interest. We cannot afford your bloated ego, lusting after times long gone. So go, Takaar. Lose yourself in whatever quest it is you are so compelled to undertake. Chasing more practitioners, is it?’ Auum waved a hand and then pointed back towards Ysundeneth. ‘If the humans are coming then it is not magic in fifty or a hundred years’ time that we need. It is strength and honour and speed and warriors in the next handful of days.’

A blade was at Takaar’s throat and in truth he hadn’t seen Auum draw it.

‘Steel will win this war, if war it is. Man thinks his magic dominates all. But this is my forest. And it is a lonely place in which to die.’

Takaar backed away, and he knew he was shaking and could not control it. He pointed a finger at Auum but it carried no conviction.

‘Garan has already given me one great gift and he will give me another. He has said as much. So dismiss me at your own risk, Auum. I am Takaar. I am still the future.’

The blade was back in its scabbard but Auum was no less intimidating.

‘No, Takaar, you are yesterday’s elf, not tomorrow’s. Take any who love you and leave the rainforest. Find another place to peddle your insanity. The elves have no time or use for magic.’

Takaar opened his mouth to speak but there were no words.

Like I said: sharp, this Auum, isn’t he? Laid you bare with a handful of words.

Tears were flooding down Takaar’s cheeks. He wanted to bellow at Auum that he was wrong. That he had to embrace magic in any form they could because it was as natural as the breath in their lungs and the blood in their veins. But Auum was a warrior. He was TaiGethen. And there was nothing he had to understand that he did not already know.

You’re going to run, aren’t you? Scamper away like a deer with a panther bite in its rump. Another failure. Another act of the most supreme cowardice.

‘You are right and you are wrong, as I will show you.’

‘Are you talking to me?’

Takaar shrugged. ‘I’ll let you decide.’

And Takaar ran.

Koel nursed the barge around the final bends of the River Ix. The river ran below the level of the city, through a rock cleft thirty feet deep, before emerging to join the sea just beyond the river jetties and lumber mills. The flow was fast here, the cleft narrow and treacherous, affected by tides and rainfall like no other stretch of the river. It was a place where the piranha waited under overhangs; a place where elf and animal perished should they take a single careless step and fall into the current. If the river didn’t get them, the piranha would.

Behind Koel, the other two barges made slower progress, with the nets keeping the sodden lumber in place stretched between them, their crews busy fending the vessels away from the rock walls. They had passed the Senserii Approach, which led across the river and into the temple of Shorth, and had been seen by guards, who would ensure they met with a difficult welcome at the mill quay.