He had seen these ancient tomes while visiting Erisha some years ago. They were kept in a special room that was always locked when not in use. The books were watched over by the royal historian, Culph, a formidable oldster possessed of an even more formidable temper. Kirisin had met him only once, and once was enough.
For the most part, the Elven histories were the property and concern of the Kings and Queens of the realm, and lesser folks were not allowed to peruse them. They were too fragile and too easily damaged for them to be made available to all, and perhaps it didn’t matter anyway since they were said to be sketchy about much of what had happened in the early years. The books themselves had been recorded and bound only a dozen centuries ago, their contents translated from written notes and oral history gathered together from hundreds of sources. It was impossible to say how much of it was accurate. Certainly some of it was too thin and dated to be of any use. But perhaps the Loden and the seeking-Elfstones were important enough to Elven history and culture that whatever was written about them would be essentially correct.
He had to hope so. Because if there wasn’t something in those books about the seeking-Stones and the Loden and the whole business of how to save the Ellcrys without uprooting her…
So his thinking went, unraveling like thread off a spool, spinning out into a pile at his feet.
By the time he was summoned, two hours later, he had lost most of his enthusiasm for what he had come to do and all of his patience. Everyone else had been taken ahead of him, even though he was a member of the royal family. He couldn’t help but think that this was the King’s way of letting him know that he had slid a long way down in the royal pecking order since the confrontation with his parents over splitting the Elves. That hadn’t involved him personally, but it seemed he might be paying the price nevertheless. He made a mental note to ask his sister how she was faring as a member of the King’s personal guard.
“Kirisin!” the King exclaimed. “What a pleasant surprise!” He was a big man with a booming voice and expansive gestures, and the exuberance of his greeting seemed to refute the possibility of any personal antagonism. “But why aren’t you in the gardens with the other Chosen?”
If you knew I was supposed to be there, why did you make me sit in the hall for two hours? Kirisin thought. Why didn’t you take me ahead of those others? But he didn’t say any of that. He wasn’t there to pick a fight. He hoped.
“My lord,” he greeted, giving the King a respectful bow. “I’m sorry to interrupt you.”
“Nonsense! I don’t see enough of you. Come in, come in. How is my daughter? Still trying to convince everyone she’s all grown up at seventeen? I wish she could learn to take herself a little less seriously. More like you. You always seem so relaxed.”
He guided Kirisin over to a couch, sat them both down, and leaned forward conspiratorially. “I would have called you in sooner, but I was stuck in a conference and couldn’t break free. All those others who came in first had to deal with one of my aides, but I selfishly kept you for myself. Hope the waiting didn’t age you too badly. Tell me how you are.”
Conflicted and slightly ashamed of my suspicious mind, Kirisin thought. Arissen Belloruus always did this to him, and it wasn’t made easier in this situation where he was already uncertain about what he had come to do.
“Very well, my lord.” He cleared his throat. “I’m here because something happened in the gardens this morning. Something I thought you ought to know about. The Ellcrys spoke to me.”
Something changed in the King’s expression. It wasn’t a dramatic change, one that evidenced astonishment or excitement. It was subtler, more calculating. It was there for an instant and then gone. Kirisin registered its presence, but was already forging ahead with his story.
“She said she was in danger, my lord. She said the Elves are in danger. She spoke about a change in the world that would affect all of us. She asked for our help. She wants us to find an Elfstone called a Loden. She is to be placed inside this Stone and taken to a safer place and it is all written down in the histories. I thought someone should tell you, so I decided to—”
“Apparently, my daughter didn’t think she should be the one to tell me this?” the King interrupted suddenly.
Kirisin hesitated. “There was some discussion. I volunteered to come tell you because I think something needs to be done.”
“But not everyone agrees with you?”
Unfortunately. “No, not everyone does.”
Arissen Belloruus arched one eyebrow. “My daughter is one of those who doesn’t, I gather?” Kirisin nodded. “Well, then. How many of the others feel the same way she does?”
Kirisin took a deep breath. “All of them.”
The King nodded. “Did anyone besides you hear the Ellcrys speak?”
Kirisin shook his head. “No.”
“Can you think of any reason why the Ellcrys would speak only to you and not to any of the others?”
Again Kirisin shook his head, not even bothering to answer aloud.
There was a long pause. The King put a hand on his shoulder. “You show the courage of your convictions coming to me like this. But maybe you need to reassess your position.”
“Maybe I do. But I don’t think it will change my mind. I know what I heard.”
The King smiled. “I can’t take this before the members of the High Council and ask for their support without something more substantive than what you’ve told me. I will do as suggested and have a look at our histories. Perhaps there is something written down about this Loden Elfstone and the three others needed to find it. I will have the keeper of the histories begin right away. If something is found, I will act on it. But if nothing is found, I am not sure what I will be able to do to help.”
Kirisin wasn’t pleased with this answer, but he knew better than to press things further. The King had gotten to his feet, an indication that the conversation was over. Kirisin rose with him. “Thank you for listening to me,” he said, not knowing what else to say.
Arissen Belloruus nodded. “I don’t want you to speak of this to anyone until I tell you to do so. We don’t want to cause needless panic.”
Needless panic. Kirisin nodded. “I won’t say anything.”
There would be panic enough once they found out the truth about the tree’s predictions, he was thinking as he left the room and walked back down the hallway and out the front door. He was already chastising himself for not being more forceful about acting on the tree’s plea, even understanding that there was nothing more that he could have done. He had to hope the histories would reveal something of the Loden and the history of the Elfstones so that the King could act.
He was well down the trail and out of sight of the Belloruus quarters when he suddenly realized something. The King had said that perhaps there was something written in the histories about the Loden Elfstone and the three others needed to find it. But Kirisin had not mentioned the three seeking-Stones.
Yet Arissen Belloruus had known about it.
It stopped him in his tracks. He replayed carefully what he had told the King, just to make sure. There was no mistake. He had not mentioned the seeking-Stones at all. He hadn’t had a chance to finish his explanation before the King had interrupted him. The implications of this were so stunning that for a moment he could not make himself believe them. It meant the King had already known about the other Elfstones before Kirisin had told him anything. Which, in turn, meant he had already known about everything else, as well.
How could that be?
His face darkened. Well, it was obvious, of course. Only one other person could have told him. Erisha. Despite her insistence on not going to her father about what had happened, she had left the gardens right after he had and done so anyway. That was why the King had left him sitting there for two hours with nothing to do. He was listening to Erisha and then making up his mind about what he was going to say to Kirisin. The boy stared at the ground in front of him, anger building ins
ide. He had been deliberately deceived, and for the life of him he could not understand why.
Kirisin stood where he was for a long time, thinking it through. This was dangerous ground he was standing on. He knew he had to do something, but if he did the wrong thing he would end up creating more trouble for his family than he could even imagine. He couldn’t expose the King’s duplicity without embarrassing him. He couldn’t brace Erisha about what she had done without revealing what he knew about her father. He couldn’t tell anyone about the game being played without risking the possibility that it would get back to the King.
But he couldn’t stand by and do nothing, either. He had taken an oath when he had become a member of the Chosen, and by doing so he had committed himself to helping protect and care for the tree in any way he could.
He walked slowly back to the gardens, thinking it over, trying to decide what to do. Nothing much came to mind. It depressed him to find himself so powerless, but rushing into things wouldn’t help, either. Like it or not, he had to be patient. He had to take his time and figure out what he could do to turn matters around. There was clearly something going on that he didn’t understand, and he had to find out what it was. But if he didn’t use care in doing so, he risked finding himself shut out of everything.
He arrived back at the gardens and without a word to anyone went back to work. He knew his duties for the day and didn’t need to speak to the others if he didn’t choose to. It might be better, he decided, if he waited for them to speak to him.
Biat was the first to approach, coming over as soon as he saw him. “What did the King say?” he whispered, giving a quick glance over his shoulder in the direction of Erisha, who was down on her hands and knees digging out weeds across the way.
Kirisin shrugged. “He said he was glad I told him about it and that he would have a look at the histories. He didn’t get angry.” He paused. “Did I miss anything here?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, was anything else said about this after I left? Erisha was pretty mad.”
Biat chuckled. “Erisha was furious. But she dropped the matter right away and put us all to work. We’ve been at it ever since. What took you so long?”
“Did Erisha say where she was going when she went after me?” he asked, ignoring the question.
Biat stared at him. “What are you talking about? Erisha didn’t go after you. She never left the garden. No one did.”
Kirisin bent over his digging implement so that the other boy couldn’t see his expression. “My mistake. I thought I saw her.” What is going on? “You had better get back to work. We’ll talk about it later.”
Biat moved away, leaving him with what were now much darker thoughts. If Erisha hadn’t talked to her father, how had he found out what the tree had told Kirisin?
The answer came to him almost instantly. Arissen Belloruus had learned about it much earlier, even before this morning.
Though she chooses not to hear me, you must listen.
He sat up slowly and stared off into space. She. He remembered the tree’s words now, how they had seemed an accusation that lacked any basis. But they made perfect sense if this morning’s attempt to seek help from the Chosen wasn’t the first, if the Ellcrys had spoken to someone earlier.
To Erisha.
His gaze drifted across the clearing and settled on his cousin. She was their leader, the foremost among the Chosen. If the tree had spoken to anyone before him, she would have spoken to Erisha. She would have revealed her fears and asked for Erisha’s help, and the girl would have told her father. That was how he would have known about the seeking-Stones.
He went back to weeding while he fought to contain his anger and channel it into something more productive than crossing over to wring Erisha’s neck. Could it really have happened that way? If so, why? It didn’t make any sense. Erisha might have told her father, but why would she keep it secret from the Chosen? For that matter, why would they both keep secret the tree’s perceived danger? Everyone knew how important she was as protector of the Elves.
He knew that he was going to have to find out. But that meant getting the truth out of Erisha without having her run to her father. He took a deep breath. He had no idea how he was going to do that.
He continued with his work, trying unsuccessfully to come up with a plan. He was still trying when she suddenly appeared at his elbow.
“What happened with my father?” she asked perfunctorily, kneeling next to him. She brushed back her long dusky hair. “What did he say when you told him about the tree?”
Something in the way she asked it set his teeth on edge, and as quickly as that, he made his decision. He looked up at her so that he could watch her face. “He already knew all about it,” he said.
Her fine, delicate features tightened, and she flushed. Her gaze dropped, and then lifted again to meet his. “What do you mean?”
He knew instantly that he had been right in his suspicions. The Ellcrys had spoken to her before this morning, and instead of confiding in the other Chosen she had gone to her father. Both of them had been hiding the truth ever since.
“You know what I mean,” he said quietly, his eyes locked on hers. He could see the mix of anger and fear revealed there; she was visibly distraught. “The Ellcrys spoke to you before today and you told your father about it, but you didn’t tell us.”
“That’s not true.” She tried to look away.
“Then how did your father know what I was going to say before I said it? He knew all about the Loden and the Elfstones and the histories. He knew about everything, Erisha.” He paused. “What is this all about?”
Her lips tightened, and she looked as if she might cry. He thought for just a moment that she was going to tell him what he wanted to know. But then she regained her composure, and her face closed down.
“You imagine things, Kirisin,” she whispered furiously. “You make up stories to suit your own purposes. You have a talent for it. I think you had better go back to your work and let me do the same.”
She scrambled to her feet. “You better keep these wild stories to yourself, too, or I won’t be responsible for what happens to you!”
She stalked away, arms stiff at her sides, shoulders rigid, long hair swaying. She did not look back. Kirisin waited until she had knelt down again to continue her work, then quit watching. So much for not acting precipitously. He wondered how long it would take for her to tell her father. He wondered what would happen to him then. It didn’t bear thinking on too closely. If the King determined to keep what the Ellcrys had revealed a secret, he would do whatever he felt was necessary to keep Kirisin from interfering.
It was a very long day after that. He worked in the gardens all morning, then spent the afternoon studying lessons on caring for plants and trees with old Willum. He was close enough to Erisha the entire time for either to call over to the other, but he never said one word to her, nor she to him. He tried to think of what he should do next, but couldn’t come up with anything. It seemed he had burned all his bridges by telling her what he knew. If he now told anyone else, she would deny everything. Would the other Chosen back him up? Maybe, but he couldn’t be sure. They hadn’t been too eager to back him up so far. They were uncertain of him and would not be quick to want to take a stand.
He could talk to Biat, he decided. Of all of them, Biat was the one most likely to support him.
But when the day ended, he didn’t say anything to Biat. He left alone and walked home through the trees without a word to any of them. He found he didn’t know exactly what he wanted to say or how he wanted to say it. He wasn’t sure what he should do, and he needed time to think it over. So he walked out to one of his favorite places, a promontory overlooking the River Orish, and sat down with his back to one of the old-growth cedars.
He wished Simralin were home. She would know what to do. Or at least she would have an opinion. He could talk to his parents, but they might decide to confront Arissen about it, and
what happened to them then would be his fault. Worse, they might decide he was confused or mistaken. He was just a boy, after all. Boys like him were confused or mistaken much of the time. Every adult knew that.
But he had to do something. The Ellcrys was in peril, and time was running out. If she didn’t receive the help she was asking for, she might perish. It didn’t seem that anyone else was going to do anything if he didn’t. So he had better come up with a plan.
He sat there until dusk, looking for such a plan. By the time it was dark and he started home, he still didn’t have one.
I T WAS LATE in the day, the light turned gray and the world become a place of shadows and mysterious sounds, when Angel Perez finally found what she was looking for. She had marched the compound children and their protectors north all afternoon through a haze of smoke and ash to get clear of the city. She had stopped when rest was necessary and once for a quick bite to eat from their meager supplies, but otherwise she had kept them moving. It was hard on the children, especially the little ones, many of whom had to be carried as the march wore on. But stopping was dangerous. They were still too close to the creatures who sought their annihilation, the demons and the once-men and especially that old man. She didn’t know if he had discovered yet that she had escaped him again. She didn’t know if a pursuit had been mounted. Yet she knew better than to assume anything but the worst, and took no chances.
So they walked out of Anaheim and into the Chino Hills, a distance of more than twenty miles, a march that left them footsore and weary and ready for sleep by the time they reached the scouts from the guerrilla force who were waiting to lead them on. She had formed the unit eight months earlier, when she knew that Robert was gone and the compounds east of the mountains had fallen. She had culled them from the Los Angeles compounds, men and women who believed that fortresses could no longer protect them and that their way of life was ended and another way was needed. She had joined them together with a ragtag band of outcasts and drifters that knew something about staying alive outside the compounds, men and women who had learned how to survive in the open. She had prepared them for what would happen and the exodus of the children she would try to save. She had given to them the responsibility for guiding those children north, protecting them on their journey, and finding them safe haven in another place.