“Rootdiggers—Rootfinders? The halfling triplets?” Cald was surprised. Halflings preferred towns and tame, well-tended lands. The three brothers were certainly dedicated to helping the refugees if they had remained in Sielwode.
“Finders become diggers. They plant food in clearing north of here,” the goblin said. “They build little house and one for us. We wait.” Bersmog shrugged. “Splitear dead now, but clan bossed by Gorgon. Stognad and me, we not go back. Boss elf king say we can stay here if no cut trees. You go to place where shadow trees come?”
“Yes, and you stay far away from it,” Cald said, impatient to continue his journey. “If possible, I’m going through the portal to find the prince.”
To his surprise, Bersmog nodded and took a firmer grip on his spear. He eyed the human hopefully.
“Maybe plenty fighting over there? Nothing happen here for long time. Me and Stognad have no fun for plenty long time.”
“You want to go?” Cald could not believe the goblin.
“We go along, see this place,” he said. “See Be-gelf again.” The goblin had used his name for Eyrmin. “Where is Be-gelf is always plenty fun.”
They had been walking toward the clearing, and Cald could see the sunlight through the deep shade of the grove. He nodded, hoping Bersmog could not read the lie in his face.
“Go find Stognad and meet me here at sunset tomorrow,” he said, leaning against a handy tree. His body enjoyed the rest, but his intention was merely to give Bersmog the impression he was in no hurry.
Lienwiel had hung back, tactfully giving Cald and the goblin privacy. When the goblin trotted away out of sight, Cald moved around the tree and spoke the incantation to enter the Embrace.
After a few minutes, Cald’s elven escort realized he had been left behind and began searching for him. The human remained in the tree until Lienwiel was well out of sight.
Slipping out of the tree and skirting the rest of the grove, he turned north, walking through the afternoon. By sunset, he reached the last forest monarch on the edge of the swamp.
Knowing the elves would not find him there, he slept on the ground. His mind and his body needed rest. If he was able to open the portal with the sword, he had no idea what he would be facing. He awoke at dawn, still fatigued from his long journey, but he refused to wait any longer to try for the sword.
Will I be able to retrieve the weapon? he wondered as he spoke the incantation. Within the Embrace, he raised his hands, and his left gripped the edge of his breastplate. He stepped out with his armor, still bundled as he had left it.
The breeze sighed in the limbs of the old tree as if it was glad to be rid of its burden.
He untied the bundle and donned his armor, marveling again that the magic of the elves made it seem almost weightless. His fatigue fell away as if the armor had absorbed his exhaustion and filled him with new energy. He buckled his sword belt around his waist, his scabbard and his own sword at his side. He slipped his bow and quiver of arrows over his shoulder and carried the dreaded blade as he returned to the clearing in the Muirien Grove.
The sunlight glinted on his armor and threw sparkles of reflected light onto the flowers, but the human saw none of the beauty. He stood, staring at the western eaves, willing the portal to open.
He had no words, no magic incantation, only his desire, but he reasoned the halflings had opened it with need and desperation. His heart thudded with hope. His blood ran hot in his veins, like rivulets of fire running down his arms and legs, the curse of the malevolent power of the sword. It would help him do what he could not manage alone.
He waited, willing the portal to open. Time dragged by, but he refused to give up hope. Then he felt the change in the mood of the grove. The sun disappeared, color drained from the flowers in the clearing, and slowly the shadows of the trees seemed to become vertical and take on mass and solidity.
Behind him, Lienwiel, who had finally found him again, called his name, and then gasped at the change taking place in the grove. Cald heard him stumble, probably backing away, though the human did not turn to look.
Someone was moving in the shadows, and when he stepped into full sight, Cald’s heart leapt.
Eyrmin!
“My prince!” Cald cried, and he started forward.
Eyrmin raised his hand, palm out, ordering Cald to remain where he was. The elf stepped out into the clearing, and the human’s hope died.
Eyrmin walked through the flowers, but they remained unbroken behind him. He passed through a small bush as if it were not there.
The prince had not survived his journey into the Shadow World.
“I-I wanted to help you,” Cald said, blurting out the words like a child. “It took me three years to understand how to open the portal….”
“I know,” Eyrmin said softly. “I know how you have grieved. Your pain kept me close to the portal. Through it, I knew you had found the answer, and I have been waiting for you.”
“I’m sorry it took so long,” Cald said. “And I don’t know how long the portal will remain open. Come away now, so when it closes you’ll be on this side.”
“I cannot.” Eyrmin shook his head sadly. “I am of that world now and must remain.”
“Then I’m going back with you,” Cald said, but the prince shook his head again.
“No. You are needed in Aebrynis.”
“I’m going with you,” Cald insisted. “I won’t leave you to fight alone in the Shadow World.”
“I’m not alone,” Eyrmin said. “You freed the spirit warriors, but there was no place for them on Aebrynis, so they came with me. We are a strong force here.” He saw the questions in the human’s face and sighed.
“The old song, ‘Lightfall,’ gave us the answer to their entrapment. Not all the lights of Tallamai are departed elves. Dragons also exist in Tallamai. When they are killed, they become lights, as do others from other worlds who were meant to be immortal.
“There have been great battles fought in the sky….” His face twisted with painful images, but Cald was not to learn what caused that terrible memory. “I have heard of terrible battles. We have seen the lights fall, streaking across the sky. We have seen others brighten suddenly and then disappear. It is all we see of epic battles in the sky.
“The ghost warriors of the grove were newly dead, having lost their lives in a great battle between the elves of Sielwode and four elementals that had been swept into this world though a portal from another plane—not the plane of the Shadow World. While a battle raged between the elves of Cerilia and the elementals, so too a war had erupted in Tallamai. The ghost warriors, just climbing the stair to reach the sky, were faced with terrible forces they did not understand or know how to fight. They fled back down the stair and were trapped here.”
“And your people were off fighting the elementals and never knew what happened to them?” Cald asked, feeling like a child again, asking obvious questions as he learned his lore from Eyrmin. The prince shook his head.
“We never knew, though we were somehow given the knowledge in the old lay. As you said, they found it easier to plant the quest for the answer in your mind. There are those of our people who are not so open to new ideas.” He sighed again.
“That, my human son, is the last lesson I can give you. Be content that I am not alone, and we will be a powerful force against the evils of the Shadow World.”
“But I can fight at your side….”
The elf’s face turned dark with anger. “Free me! Cease this grief that entraps me. Rejoice that I can still fight. Use the lessons I taught you to help the land I leave behind.” He took a step forward and held out his hand.
“That blade belongs in the Shadow World. With it I can close the portal and protect Sielwode. With it I, and the spirits who crossed with me, can make a difference in the dark plane.”