Thomas Reid - The Emerald Scepter

"And how did you manage to enlist the aid of a Darowdryn?" Xaphira asked as they maneuvered out into the dark of night.

"After Hetta died, and Grozier took over the house, I went to the Darowdryns for help."

Xaphira nearly dropped Lobra. "Mother's dead?" she asked, her voice meek, and Emriana could see the woman shivering.

You're an idiot! Emriana screamed at herself. "Not exactly," she said hastily, "but she's in a ring, which-oh, no! The ring!" The girl nearly dropped Lobra then, realizing she had been separated from her grandmother. "Oh, no," she said again, feeling despair wash over her once more. "I lost her, Xaphira. I lost Hetta."

"Shh," Xaphira said, and Emriana thought she was trying to comfort her, to tell her it was all right. In the next moment, though, the woman crouched down into the shadows, and Emriana did likewise just as a patrol of House guards stalked past below the balcony. It was not the casual sauntering Emriana was accustomed to seeing in House Matrell guards.

"They don't look happy," Emriana said once the soldiers had passed.

"I guess not, after everything that happened tonight," Xaphira said. "If I say run, you let go of Lobra and go as fast as you can. Do you understand me? Don't look back, just run for safety."

"All right," Emriana said, knowing her aunt was suggesting that they might get separated. Not on your life, she thought silently. Never again.

Once they were certain the guards had moved out of earshot, they started down the steps of the balcony, hauling their still-unconscious prisoner between them.

Horial landed hard on his back, and though the ground was soft and spongy beneath him, the sudden appearance of Edilus directly above him made the mercenary's journey through the magical portal a painful one. As the druid collapsed on top of the sergeant, the weight of both of them together drove Horial down hard against the earth, and the arrow still rammed in his shoulder sank deeper into his flesh. The sergeant gasped and barely refrained from crying out fully.

"By the gods," he groaned, panting. "Get off me," he pleaded, pushing at Edilus with his good arm.

The druid scrambled off Horial and stood, muttering in that language the sergeant had heard the Enclave use back in the Nunwood. It sounded like Edilus was cursing.

"You two be quiet!" Adyan hissed from nearby, his drawl exaggerated with his insistence. "You want to draw the entire Generon down on us?"

Horial groaned again and tried to sit up, but Edilus was there in front of him, grabbing him by the collar of his tunic. "Why, you traitorous wolf? Why did you bring me through the portal with you?"

Horial stared at the man, his mouth agape. "Why? Because those soldiers were going to kill you!" he hissed. "If you want to die so badly, then go back!"

Edilus swore again softly. "I would if it were possible, but it is not! The passage conveys those who use it in one direction only! I cannot return!"

"You hate us so much you'd rather die than come with us?" Horial demanded, controlling his voice only a little more than before. "I saved your life. Maybe some day, you'll get back to your precious forest and do something worthwhile with what's left of it." And with that, he grabbed Edilus's hand, the one still clutching at his tunic, and slung it off.

"I'm not kidding!" Adyan said, his voice also a whisper. "We're smack in the middle of the Generon grounds, and they will hear you if you don't quiet down!"

Horial could see the scar along Adyan's chin glowing faintly in the moonlight. It was twitching from the other man's agitation.

Grolo, sitting nearby, said, "He's right. You two are making enough noise to draw the whole city watch here."

Horial glared at his companions, disliking the rebukes while he was in the middle of a good fight, but he realized the wisdom of their words. Finally, he said to Edilus in a whisper, "Like it or not, you're here with us, and unless you want to ruin what all of your brethren-and my other soldiers-just died to help make happen, let's save this argument for later."

Edilus stood very still, staring at Horial for a long moment as if thinking. Finally, the druid nodded. "I will help you as I can," he said, "because Shinthala believed you had a purpose that did not cross us. But my aid will not include anything that would harm my people in some way."

Horial spread his hands in acceptance and said, "None of us would expect any less of you. And so you understand, I grieve for your brethren as much as I do for my own soldiers." He tried to roll over onto his side, but the arrow embedded in his knee would not allow it. Wincing as he jarred it, Horial sank back to the ground in pain.

"Let me see your injuries," Edilus said, kneeling next to his counterpart. "I may be able to tend them."

Horial nodded and tried to sit still while the druid worked on him, several times stifling cries of pain as Edilus's touch became too ambitious. As he waited, the sergeant tried to get his bearings.

The group had arrived in a lush garden, and in fact, the portal that had delivered them there seemed be anchored to an overgrown archway that formed a lopsided arbor. It looked very old and neglected, and thick vines and shrubs had completely enclosed it on every side, providing a welcome screen of camouflage for the four of them. Though he could not distinctly remember seeing the location before, something about the place convinced Horial that Adyan was correct. They were on the grounds of the Generon.

"Why does this look familiar?" he asked, looking over at Adyan, who was just returning from a quick foray into the underbrush to scout. "Have you been here before?"

"You don't remember?' the other man asked softly, squatting down beside Horial.

Horial shook his head. "It reminds me of something, but…" Whatever memories were hidden away were giving him an uneasy feeling.

"It was a long time ago," Adyan drawled, sounding pensive. "Vambran was with us."

Horial looked at his friend, remembering it all. "That night," he breathed. "The plantains."

Adyan nodded. "Yes. The plantain trees are just that way," and he pointed in the near-darkness, "and the pond where we found-" he stopped himself then, pointing but not finishing the thought.

"Of all the ridiculous luck," Horial said, bracing himself as Edilus took hold of the first arrow, the one in his knee. When the druid jerked the missile out, Horial had to clench his teeth to keep from yelling. "How did Tymora see fit to drop us right here?" he asked after he got his breath back.

Edilus handed the sergeant a little leather pouch. "Eat it," he said, moving around to Horial's shoulder.

Opening the pouch, the sergeant could see something gray and moist inside. It did not look tasty. As Edilus took hold of the second arrow, Horial tipped the pouch back and let the contents slide down his throat. The mixture tasted sour, but he did not have long to reflect on it, for Edilus yanked hard.

Horial squeezed his eyes shut to deal with the burning pain, but whatever Edilus had given him warmed his body and eased the discomfort. He suspected it might have been some druidic variation of a temple-issue healing potion. Soon, his wounds had closed and he felt good enough to walk. He climbed to his feet and peered around.

"So," Horial asked of no one in particular, "which is the fastest way out of here?"

"Through the front gates," Adyan said.

"Yes, I'm sure that the guards won't bat an eye as three members of the Sapphire Crescents and a fellow from the distant woods go strolling past with no explanation of how they came to be on the grounds," Horial said wryly. "That's not one of your better plans."

"I'm serious," Adyan replied. "We might look a little odd, but tonight's Sammardach. Next to Spheres and the Night of Ghosts, it's one of the biggest parties of the season. Why shouldn't we be visiting the Generon tonight?"