The Lady Of The Storm - Part 18
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Part 18

"I've been thinking," he murmured against her hair. "All of the powers of the elven lords meet at this place, which means Breden of Dewhame's magic is a part of it."

"So there will be water within?"

"Just so. You will have a weapon to command."

"If we don't get roasted to ash, first."

Giles glanced up and kissed the top of Cecily's head. "You have already called to it."

River water flowed toward her, translucent bands of pale blue curling and twining with the movement of her fingers. "Just a bit. Enough to protect us from that black flame, if we need it."

"Then we are as prepared as we can possibly be."

He set her behind him and strode toward the towering forest. His sword began to tremble, but he did not need the warning. When Giles reached the first line of trees he unclenched his fists with relief. They hadn't disappeared into a flame of black fire. Yet.

Cecily touched his shoulder. "Look, Giles, to the left."

"Keep behind me," he ordered before looking in the direction she pointed. A small orb of light danced a merry jig above a path bordered with craggy roots. "It could be a trap."

"But Thomas appeared in a ball of light, remember? Perhaps he's only strong enough to send this smaller one."

"You truly want to follow it?" A sliver of water slipped around his neck and tapped his cheek, as Cecily used her magic as easily as she used a finger.

"Which other path would you choose?"

She was right. Giles stepped into the woods, ignoring the water that trickled down the front of his shirt. He'd become used to Cecily's magic, just as she had become accustomed to his sword. What an unlikely pair they made. No, what a likely pair they made.

"You're right," he agreed. "None of them look very promising-are those vines slithering across the ground, or snakes?"

She stood so close to him he felt her shudder. "Do you see those red eyes staring at us?"

"Follow the ball of light, then." And he turned and headed down that path, making sure he stayed in front of Cecily to meet any danger first.

They circled around trees whose girth easily measured the height of three men, the canopy so far above them that it seemed as if it would take hours for a single leaf to hit the ground. An eerie silence haunted the forest and Giles stepped lightly, avoiding the crackle of leaves or the pop of a dry branch. His ears p.r.i.c.ked at the slightest sound from within the twilight of the woods: a low growl, a shuffling footstep, the shriek of some small dying creature. His gaze searched between bush and bramble for enemies but he could not see farther than a few yards. Vines swayed from above, curious blue growths attached to them that spread from one vine to another like the sails of a ship. A green mist swirled about the bushes that fought for s.p.a.ce between the trees, and each time the mist shifted the plants appeared to change shape.

A limb reached out to touch him and he squinted to discern its shape, for it looked for all the world like some desiccated arm with tattered clothing for leaves and a hand of twiggy fingers. It tried to touch his hair, and his devil-blade jumped into his hand and he swung. A shriek filled the silence and the severed limb fell at his feet.

"Giles?"

"Yes?" he panted.

"Where are you going?"

He turned, suddenly realizing he could no longer feel Cecily holding on to the back of his coat. She stood on the path, the ball of light impatiently bounding up and down.

Giles stood between two scraggly bushes. "I swear I saw the path veer in this direction."

Cecily clutched her shoulders and hugged herself. "This is such a strange place, Giles. I do not know how Thomas has lived in here for months."

He sheathed his blade and leaped to her side, enfolding her small body in his arms. "Do not worry, we will rescue him. But I think this wood is purposely trying to make me lose my way. I will keep my eyes on our guide instead of the path, and we will not be separated again. You stay by my side from now on."

She nodded and he let her go, but caught up her hand and kept it securely within his own.

The orb had waited for them, pulsing with a soft glow, but quickly shot ahead as soon as they started to follow again. They walked in silence for a time, until Cecily began to lag behind him.

Something cold tickled the back of Giles's neck and dripped down his back. "How much is it tiring you to trail half the river in our wake?"

"It is not a great use of my power and I should not feel this tired. I have gotten used to being away from the ocean and the wealth of water in Dewhame. I think... I think it is this place fighting my magic, for I have to struggle to keep the water in its shape."

Giles glanced behind them. The cl.u.s.ters of liquid lacked their usual sleek form, distorted about the edges and leaking in their wake. Perhaps a third of the water she had called from the river still swirled behind them.

And then his blade trembled on his hip and Giles turned, pushing Cecily behind him. Something approached them from down the path, in the shape of a human but not walking with the stride of one. Giles drew his sword and waited, for they would not turn back.

"Could it be Thomas?" Cecily asked, stepping to his side but keeping at least a bit behind him.

"I do not know. But do not rush forward, and let me handle this." He remembered his battle with the fire demon. "Do not use your magic unless you have to. Agreed?"

"I do not make the same mistakes, Giles."

He could not help but grin at the offended tone in her voice, but the expression soon faded as the... creature neared them. Giles smelled it first. The stench of rotting meat hit his nose like a solid wall and he swallowed against the urge to retch, like Cecily began to do beside him.

Giles took a step forward. "Stop."

The thing grinned at him. Green blotches covered a misshapen face and its teeth looked more like an animal's than a man's. A tattered black uniform hung on a ma.s.sive frame, fur springing between the tears. The creature held up its hands as if to strike, claws sprouting from the tips of stunted fingers.

Its eyes looked human. But they held the gleam of madness and Giles did not hesitate.

He leaped forward and swung, his devil-blade singing as it whipped through the air. The creature swiped at Giles but he easily dodged it, dancing away from its longer reach. A look of confusion crossed that monstrous face and it clutched its gut, looking down at the blood that spouted between its claws. It grunted and lunged forward, one long arm taking a last swipe at Giles before it fell.

A claw scratched Giles's cheek.

As soon as his blade absorbed the blood, Giles sheathed it and strode back to Cecily.

"Do not look at it," he said, holding out a hand to her. "It is no longer human."

"Did he... did it have gray eyes?"

"No, Cecily. It was not Thomas."

Her breath hitched with relief, and then her eyes widened. "It hurt you."

"'Tis but a scratch. I did not expect that it could move as fast as an elven, and it got lucky."

She lifted a hand, those delicate fingers moving gracefully as she called a tendril of water. He stood still and allowed her to wash the scratch, even though he knew his elven blood would probably heal it by the time she finished.

She cared for him. He remembered that Cecily had been the one to help him when he had fallen from battle in the village. If only he had realized sooner how much time he had wasted with other women. None of them seemed to satisfy, and he now knew it was because only one woman had been meant for him.

"Cecily." He had breathed her name out loud.

She smiled, the brilliant one that made her blue eyes dance and her cheeks apple.

"I... d.a.m.n." A black wall shivered behind her. "The black flame; it's coming."

Cecily gasped.

He grabbed her hand and they ran, both of them clearing the fallen creature with one leap. The glowing orb barely stayed ahead of them as fear prompted them to use their full elven strength to run faster than they ever had before.

Giles heard it coming, hissing and screaming behind them. He felt the heat of it, unlike any other ordinary fire, his back burning like the devil, and wondered how long it would be before his coat burst into flames.

Cecily's puny drops of water would be like trying to douse a campfire with spit.

But at the thought, he abruptly felt the heat on his back ease a bit. Giles dared a glance and realized the clever girl had devised a liquid wall behind them, protecting their backs for as long as they could stay slightly ahead of the flame.

"Water," she gasped.

He grinned. "Well done."

"No. Ahead."

The trees before them thinned, and he could just spy the gleam of a lake. They leaped over a fallen log, Cecily's skirts flying upward, staying plastered above her knees from the wind of their flight. That small advantage allowed her to run faster, her legs no longer hampered by her dress.

Giles had no idea she could run like the very wind. He pressed himself to stay ahead of her, admiring her strength, awed by the amount of elven blood that must flow through her veins to give her such abilities.

But they still would not reach the lake in time.

They burst into open ground, sunlight blinding them for an instant. The trees behind them roared as they went up in flame. The heat robbed Giles of breath. The earth shook beneath his boots.

He squeezed Cecily's hand in farewell.

And then the lake rose up to meet them. An enormous swell curled over their heads and beneath their feet, sending Giles head over heels, Cecily's hand his only anchor.

Her power continually surprised him. She had called this wave, protecting them from the fire.

But what matter? He would now drown instead of burn. But Cecily would live, and that's all he truly cared about.

Giles held his breath for as long as he could, until he quit spinning and slowly floated in calm water. Then his lungs demanded a breath and he knew it would be liquid flowing in that would hurt like h.e.l.l but he opened his mouth...

And then his eyes.

A bubble of air surrounded his head, the sound of his breathing oddly magnified in the small s.p.a.ce. Beyond the clear barrier he could see Cecily's face, her black hair floating around her like some silken cloak, her blue eyes gleaming and more l.u.s.trous than he could ever imagine. She smiled, completely at home in her element, chest rising and falling as if the very water itself provided all the nourishment she needed.

Perhaps she did have gills.

Giles pulled her toward him, amazed that they had managed to keep their hands clasped through all of the chaos. Her face penetrated the bubble, a sheen of water over her lovely features, and she kissed him: cold, wet, and utterly delicious.

They floated toward the surface, Cecily twirling around him in some aquatic dance, silver fish weaving around her skirts and nibbling on his coat.

His air grew stale and Giles frowned, but Cecily pointed up and he saw another bubble descend from the surface, and she led him from one to another, the new one settling about him with only a brief plunge into wetness.

"You are..." He could not think of a superlative strong enough. "Astounding."

She smiled again, almost shyly, and then pointed upward, releasing his hand and kicking away from him.

"Not without me," he whispered, quickly catching up with her.

The water roiled at the surface, tossing them to and fro, and they both quickly went back down. And waited for the maelstrom to pa.s.s. Cecily guided him to the floor of the lake, through gra.s.ses that flowed gently back and forth, into schools of fish that parted before them and tickled him with smooth scales and feathery fins. He could barely see in the dim light, more shadows than anything else, but Cecily apparently did not suffer from the same problem, for she guided him with confidence.

The lake had calmed the second time they floated to the surface, and they risked a look above water, Giles's bubble merging with the open air.

Nothing but ominous forest surrounded the lake.

"We had best hurry," he said, his voice so much quieter to his ears in the open air. "Who knows how long this will last?"

"But we don't know where to go."

"Look." Giles nodded to a small spot of light on the sh.o.r.e. "Apparently we haven't lost our guide."

He had the devil of a time swimming in his clothes. He shed his coat and waistcoat on the way, finally removed his boots and tucked them in his belt before Cecily noticed his struggle. She twisted a hand and propelled both of them to the sh.o.r.e on the back of a wave.

"Thank you, lady," he said as the water receded. "But you should conserve your strength. We have no idea what this place may do next."

"I'll do what's necessary." She flicked her fingers at his clothing, shedding the water, making it possible for him to pull on his boots without grimacing. He admired her confidence and worried she would overextend herself, all at the same time. Confounding woman.

She had already turned to follow the orb. Giles caught up with her with a leap, his gaze trying to penetrate the surrounding forest, wondering what sort of other creatures might lie in wait within. How did they survive the inferno? Was it but an illusion that would not harm if one knew the trick of disbelieving it? Did everything reappear after that cleansing?

Giles shook his head, noting that Cecily had dried his hair as well. He should not try and question the chaos of seven conflicting streams of elven magic. He could only try and survive it.

Fortunately the orb did not take them back into the forest. Just beyond the sh.o.r.e of the lake stood an open meadow thick with clover and poppy. A crystal spire sat in the center of it, reminding him of the scenery predominant in Stonehame.

The orb shot across the meadow and disappeared inside the crystal.

Cecily ran after, Giles following a bit slower, watching for the return of black fire and heaven only knew what else. But nothing emerged from the trees and the clover did not change shape and try to swallow them.

"Thomas," screamed Cecily as she stood before the crystal.

And then she collapsed in a heap of skirt and petticoats.

He crossed the distance still separating them and knelt, pulling her into his arms. "Cecily?"

She breathed, but her lids stayed closed, eyelashes fluttering. After all they had been through, why would she suddenly succ.u.mb to shock?

Giles looked over at the crystal. It was more translucent than the quartz that had made up the mountain in Stafford, and instead of shadowy clouds within it he could clearly see... a pair of boots. And above that, a fashionable pair of breeches, a coat threaded with silver. A frilled shirt and a cravat of ruffled lace. And Thomas's face, his gray eyes wide, his golden hair frozen in a halo about his head.

"d.a.m.n," muttered Giles. And then louder. "d.a.m.n you, Thomas! Why did you call her here when you're already dead?"

That orb of light that had led them here appeared again, flowing out of the crystal and growing to a man's height. Thomas appeared inside it. "Because this is important."

Giles glanced from the body frozen in crystal, and to the animated vision of the man in the ball of light. And then back down to Cecily as her eyelashes fluttered open.