Chris Evans - The Light of Burning Shadows

Visyna looked after him for a moment before turning to Chayii for guidance. “How do I reach him? How do I make him understand?”

Chayii stared out to sea then bowed her head. “I had hoped, Visyna, that you could tell me. You hold a place in his heart a mother never could.”

Visyna started to object, but Chayii waved her to silence. “I know, he has a strange way of showing it, but the truth of it remains. You must help him find some peace so that he sees the right path forward. He thinks he merely suffers from seasickness, but it is also more.” She looked at the ship with such sadness in her eyes that Visyna reached out and held her hand.

“This ship is made of Wolf Oaks. My husband’s foolish gift of his ryk faur stands in mockery of everything we hold dear. Even now I feel its spirit here. The pain will never go away.”

Visyna understood. She had felt unsettled the moment she stepped aboard. Despite the horrors of the islands, she had welcomed the opportunities to leave the ship and go ashore, even when it meant facing the Shadow Monarch’s creatures.

“The Empire has much to answer for, but for now, I will do what I can for Konowa, and for the Iron Elves,” Visyna said, hoping her words were true.

“I hope you succeed,” Chayii said, her face awash in rain. “I’ve already lost my husband to Her magic, perhaps forever. I do not want to lose my son as well.”

T he race against the storm was a welcome diversion. The Black Spike rose and fell among the waves as her sailors fought to keep her afloat and the Iron Elves simply fought to keep the contents of their stomachs.

Konowa didn’t breathe easy until the vessel sailed through the gap in the breakwater that arched across Nazalla Bay. He stood against the railing on the forecastle and marveled at the captain’s skills as he eased the ship between the rocks. She handled well even though the storm still raged. Perhaps some of the magic that once coursed through his father’s ryk faur still lived on. Konowa risked a glance over the railing and saw that the waves were indeed calmer inside the breakwater, though the blowing winds were crabbing the big ship sideways as it approached the port.

It was just past midnight according to the ship’s bells, and the combination of rain and cloud cover made it especially dark. Wood groaned and creaked as the sails were taken in and the anchors dropped. Konowa’s stomach still roiled, but just the sight of land was enough to buoy his spirits.

Not fifty miles beyond Nazalla lay the first outpost of the original Iron Elves at a flyspeck called Suhundam’s Hill. There were a series of these outposts stretching out across the desert in a sweeping arc aimed to control the flow of trade and protect the merchant caravans from raiders, but Suhundam was the closest, and the most important. The fort sat astride the meeting of three different trade routes that originated far in the interior of the Hasshugeb Expanse and wound their way to the three ports that dotted the otherwise barren coastline. Suhundam’s Hill would be their first destination. Konowa knew that, unlike the situation at Luuguth Jor, here his elves would still be in full control of their outpost. He’d trained them well.

He scanned the port for a sign that the harbormaster had seen their arrival, but so far no lantern glowed. He was tempted to launch a boat at once and make for the dock, but the waves were still high enough even in here that such a trip would needlessly risk lives. He had waited a long time to get this far; he could wait a little longer.

The smell of cigar smoke made Konowa smile.

“This won’t be our first talk in the rain.”

Rallie walked up beside him and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the railing. Underneath her black hood, her gray hair was even more frizzled, but her gravelly voice belied a calmness that soothed Konowa’s nerves.

“But perhaps our last, at least for a while. The Hasshugeb Expanse is rather on the dry side.” She took a long puff on her cigar and let the smoke roll out of her mouth slowly, watching it get torn apart by the rain. “Rain or snow or something else, there is a problem.”

Konowa nodded. “We cannot be afraid of this power, no matter whose it is or where we find it. A weapon is a weapon-it’s all in how you use it. This ‘white fire’ kills Her creatures. Imagine what we could do with it.”

“Oh, I do,” Rallie said, “I do. But perhaps the better question is: What could such a power do with you? ”

Konowa stood up a little straighter. “This isn’t like the oath. We will not be beholden again.”

Rallie tapped the ash from her cigar and clamped it back between her teeth. Despite the rain, the tip continued to glow orange and showed no signs of being doused. “Sage words, to be sure, and I hope they are prophetic ones. Tell me, what do you think you found on that island? What do you think happened to that soldier?”

“I was hoping you could tell me,” Konowa said. His knowledge of ancient and so-called mythical creatures was not vast. Worse, what he did know too often turned out to be wrong. “Did you talk to Private Renwar? He saw it, he felt it, he quenched its fire. He obviously knows something.” The image of the black frost burning in the soldier’s hands remained a vivid picture in Konowa’s mind.

“Indeed he does, and it’s a knowledge no one should ever possess. He’s gone farther, Major, farther than any of them, farther even than you,” she said.

“Farther where?”

Rallie pointed out to sea. “To the other side. To the place where death reigns and this world becomes a distant memory. He’s become powerful precisely because he’s slipping away.” She turned and looked him in the eyes. “He talks to them, you know.”

Konowa felt a chill, and he knew it wasn’t from the acorn. “He-why?”

Rallie shook her head. “Because they talk to him. He almost died when he lost his leg. The power that was tapped to save his life had a price. It always does. He’s connected to them in a way you aren’t.”

“But that doesn’t make sense…we all took the oath, except the Prince. Surely my power is the strongest. Renwar’s not even an elf.”

“Is that jealousy I hear, Major?”

Konowa waved the idea away even as he wondered if, in fact, it was. “I am just trying to understand. Why would the frost fire burn so much stronger for him?”

Rallie took the cigar out of her mouth and tossed it into the water. “Because he wants to die.”

It was a moment of pure clarity. Konowa had seen it before-soldiers recklessly throwing themselves into the fray. If they survived they got a medal, but few ever lived to receive it, not that they sought a medal in the first place. Konowa knew at some level that he himself risked his life more than was prudent for a commanding officer, but he was seeking to right many wrongs. Private Renwar risked his life for a wholly other reason.

Rallie nodded. “He wants the pain to end, and he’s close to making the final leap. He was prepared before when all that waited for him was eternal service to the Iron Elves and perhaps the Shadow Monarch. Now that you’ve found something that might break that oath, he’ll be even more determined. What’s an agonizing death if it sets you free?”

“I’ll have him put on mess detail, or assigned to assist my mother and Visyna with caring for the wounded. We just need time.” This was something that had kept Konowa up at night. What if the oath could be broken? Would that really be in their best interest right now? They needed power to fight the Shadow Monarch’s forest and Her creatures, and through the oath they had found it. So what if it was the enemy’s power? Konowa had swung an orc axe in battle when his musket had been knocked from his hands. This was no different.