Page 51
Story: The Arrow and the Alder
Serinbor led them through the line of trees and down the crater’s steep slope. Theeloitgrew stronger and stronger, and though Alder scanned their surroundings, he could not find the source anywhere. Serinbor stopped at the base of the slope, and his shrewd gaze followed Alder until he’d joined him. The others fanned out behind.
“Try anything, and I will not wait for the elders,” Serinbor said before he spoke a series of enchantments that Alder did not know.
A gust of air ripped around them, and suddenly, at the crater’s center, a massive stone archway shimmered into view. Enchantments had been etched all over the stone—many of which Alder had never seen—now glowing with Serinbor’s evocation, transforming this arch into a window that led to another world.
An underground one.
A wide stone bridge sloped downward, like a tongue, leading into a magnificent cavern full of glittering waterfalls Alder could now hear, thrumming from those unsearchable depths. Silvery beams of light pierced the rocky dome above, illuminating the underground city beneath it. A world Alder could not see if he peered behind the enchanted arch. It was only visible lookingthroughit, on this side, like a painting one could step into.
The lost city of Velentis.
No wonder he’d never been able to find it. It was hidden by the most powerful glamour he had ever witnessed. Of course, Abecka was the greatest enchantress of all time.
Serinbor looked at him sharply. “After you,my prince.”
The moment Alder passed through the door, the air turned cold and damp, and the powerful thunder of falling water echoed throughout. Josephine tilted her head, trying to hear what she could not see, and Alder didn’t ask for permission: he pulled the cloth sack from her head.
Josephine shook out her hair, which inadvertently pushed more into Alder’s mouth. He cursed, spitting it from his lips, and she whipped around in the saddle to glare at him. But her scorn swiftly faded as she took in their surroundings, and her eyes rounded in reverent wonder.
Alder understood.
Now that they were inside, he could adequately appreciate the scale of this place. The cavern opened wide and deep, tunneling in all directions, joined by a vast network of stone pathways and bridges of smooth granite, a world within a world. Sheets of falling water draped over high and natural rock ledges, illuminated softly by ribbons of daylight that pierced the earthen canopy above. Where the light touched, giant trees stood, their old limbs stretched to gather as much of that light as they could. Little lanterns flickered along bridges and landings—many even floated in midair—making it seem as though a piece of the heavens were trapped here within the earth, like a dome of night sky encased in rock, and waterfalls rumbled like a beating heart.
One of the men in Serinbor’s company—Rian—sidled his horse beside Alder’s as they descended. He’d lost his mask and kept stealing glances at Josephine, and Alder worried that bringing a human here had been a mistake. That his kin would see her only as an ornament to collect and observe, as they so often did with mortals.
“How many are here?” Alder asked, scanning the pathways and structures built within rock.
“About six hundred,” Rian replied after a moment, then added, “Most are remnants of the Light Court. The rest are fugitives from yours.”
Alder easily spotted a fair amount of his kin, since they wore the forest greens of Weald. Many were older—too old to be sent to the front lines. Still, the sight encouraged him, somewhat, especially when Rian added, “Your cousin suspects there are many more throughout Weald who remain loyal to your family but are persuaded to silence out of fear. Perhaps now that you’ve returned, we’ll be able to draw them out.”
Alder looked sideways at Rian, very aware of Josephine’s listening ears. “That was my mother’s strength, not mine.”
“And they no longer have that strength. They need yours now.”
Alder gave no response to this.
“Either way, we still need far more warriors if you are to take Weald back from Massie,” Rian added.
“We? Am I to presume Light will help us?”
Rian’s shoulders expanded with a breath as his gaze trailed the cave’s impressive heights. “While Velentis has long provided us sanctuary, we are very tired of hiding. I imagine you know something of that.” He glanced sidelong at Alder. “But we would help you reclaim Weald.”
Ah. “Your price?”
Rian did not answer immediately. “Refuge in Weald, though you will have to discuss the particulars with the enchantress herself.”
“I see.”
“With your return, I do believe we have a chance. Lord Hammerfell still resides above. He was the last to give Massie his loyalty from what I understand, and he only did so because Massie threatened to burn down the entire city with all the people in it. I do believe his loyalty could shift once he knows you are here, and that would be an extraordinary advantage.”
Yes, it would be an enormous advantage, because Lord Hammerfell—Alder’s uncle—possessed Weald’s largest army, most of which was employed at the Rift. Unfortunately, Rian was wrong about Lord Hammerfell’s loyalties being up for debate. His uncle might have adored his sister, Alder’s mother, but he held no such adoration for Alder, and certainly not enough to pull his forces from the front lines to help his disgraced nephew resume his rightful position as king.
They reached the end of their path, and Serinbor had them wait upon a wide landing that overlooked a chasm rimmed by an exquisite silver railing. Serinbor dismounted—still wearing Alder’s black bow and quiver—and a woman took his horse while he tucked Alder’s pack beneath his arm and strode on ahead.
Not too long after, Serinbor returned with a priestess dressed in white, pristine robes. She did not look pleased to see him. “Follow me,” she said.
Seph’s grandfather had told stories of how the kith usedeloitto erect magnificent structures out of earth and rock. She didn’t doubt that the very same power had also created this impossible feat, this defiance beneath the earth. Under any other circumstances, Seph might’ve been overcome with wonderment and awe.
“Try anything, and I will not wait for the elders,” Serinbor said before he spoke a series of enchantments that Alder did not know.
A gust of air ripped around them, and suddenly, at the crater’s center, a massive stone archway shimmered into view. Enchantments had been etched all over the stone—many of which Alder had never seen—now glowing with Serinbor’s evocation, transforming this arch into a window that led to another world.
An underground one.
A wide stone bridge sloped downward, like a tongue, leading into a magnificent cavern full of glittering waterfalls Alder could now hear, thrumming from those unsearchable depths. Silvery beams of light pierced the rocky dome above, illuminating the underground city beneath it. A world Alder could not see if he peered behind the enchanted arch. It was only visible lookingthroughit, on this side, like a painting one could step into.
The lost city of Velentis.
No wonder he’d never been able to find it. It was hidden by the most powerful glamour he had ever witnessed. Of course, Abecka was the greatest enchantress of all time.
Serinbor looked at him sharply. “After you,my prince.”
The moment Alder passed through the door, the air turned cold and damp, and the powerful thunder of falling water echoed throughout. Josephine tilted her head, trying to hear what she could not see, and Alder didn’t ask for permission: he pulled the cloth sack from her head.
Josephine shook out her hair, which inadvertently pushed more into Alder’s mouth. He cursed, spitting it from his lips, and she whipped around in the saddle to glare at him. But her scorn swiftly faded as she took in their surroundings, and her eyes rounded in reverent wonder.
Alder understood.
Now that they were inside, he could adequately appreciate the scale of this place. The cavern opened wide and deep, tunneling in all directions, joined by a vast network of stone pathways and bridges of smooth granite, a world within a world. Sheets of falling water draped over high and natural rock ledges, illuminated softly by ribbons of daylight that pierced the earthen canopy above. Where the light touched, giant trees stood, their old limbs stretched to gather as much of that light as they could. Little lanterns flickered along bridges and landings—many even floated in midair—making it seem as though a piece of the heavens were trapped here within the earth, like a dome of night sky encased in rock, and waterfalls rumbled like a beating heart.
One of the men in Serinbor’s company—Rian—sidled his horse beside Alder’s as they descended. He’d lost his mask and kept stealing glances at Josephine, and Alder worried that bringing a human here had been a mistake. That his kin would see her only as an ornament to collect and observe, as they so often did with mortals.
“How many are here?” Alder asked, scanning the pathways and structures built within rock.
“About six hundred,” Rian replied after a moment, then added, “Most are remnants of the Light Court. The rest are fugitives from yours.”
Alder easily spotted a fair amount of his kin, since they wore the forest greens of Weald. Many were older—too old to be sent to the front lines. Still, the sight encouraged him, somewhat, especially when Rian added, “Your cousin suspects there are many more throughout Weald who remain loyal to your family but are persuaded to silence out of fear. Perhaps now that you’ve returned, we’ll be able to draw them out.”
Alder looked sideways at Rian, very aware of Josephine’s listening ears. “That was my mother’s strength, not mine.”
“And they no longer have that strength. They need yours now.”
Alder gave no response to this.
“Either way, we still need far more warriors if you are to take Weald back from Massie,” Rian added.
“We? Am I to presume Light will help us?”
Rian’s shoulders expanded with a breath as his gaze trailed the cave’s impressive heights. “While Velentis has long provided us sanctuary, we are very tired of hiding. I imagine you know something of that.” He glanced sidelong at Alder. “But we would help you reclaim Weald.”
Ah. “Your price?”
Rian did not answer immediately. “Refuge in Weald, though you will have to discuss the particulars with the enchantress herself.”
“I see.”
“With your return, I do believe we have a chance. Lord Hammerfell still resides above. He was the last to give Massie his loyalty from what I understand, and he only did so because Massie threatened to burn down the entire city with all the people in it. I do believe his loyalty could shift once he knows you are here, and that would be an extraordinary advantage.”
Yes, it would be an enormous advantage, because Lord Hammerfell—Alder’s uncle—possessed Weald’s largest army, most of which was employed at the Rift. Unfortunately, Rian was wrong about Lord Hammerfell’s loyalties being up for debate. His uncle might have adored his sister, Alder’s mother, but he held no such adoration for Alder, and certainly not enough to pull his forces from the front lines to help his disgraced nephew resume his rightful position as king.
They reached the end of their path, and Serinbor had them wait upon a wide landing that overlooked a chasm rimmed by an exquisite silver railing. Serinbor dismounted—still wearing Alder’s black bow and quiver—and a woman took his horse while he tucked Alder’s pack beneath his arm and strode on ahead.
Not too long after, Serinbor returned with a priestess dressed in white, pristine robes. She did not look pleased to see him. “Follow me,” she said.
Seph’s grandfather had told stories of how the kith usedeloitto erect magnificent structures out of earth and rock. She didn’t doubt that the very same power had also created this impossible feat, this defiance beneath the earth. Under any other circumstances, Seph might’ve been overcome with wonderment and awe.
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