Chapter 42: 41. The Elves

The elves had arrows nocked and drawn. But their arms were relaxed, the arrowheads pointed at the ground—for now—as though the strings held themselves drawn. Just like Aletheia’s bow.

Each of the three had long and dark hair dangling from beneath his or her hood.

The first woman who appeared stepped closer. Mother presented her staff.

“Come not an inch farther, elf,” she said.

The elf stopped as instructed. Corvo saw nothing in her eyes. Her head turned, surveying the humans before her.

“You found us faster than I thought you would, Elysia,” Trito said.

The elf, Elysia, let her gaze settle on Aletheia. An elf’s eyes were unreadable—but her frown wasn’t.

“We knew of your presence the moment you stepped foot in the Shadowed Lands,” she said. Despite her accent, she sounded cocky to Corvo, confident and dangerous. Mother and the others did not scare her. “We’ve been tracking you ever since.”

“I did not know the Huntresses had such magic.” Trito remained seated and calm, while all the others held their breaths. “Did I trip a ward?”

Elysia did not look away from Aletheia.

“No,” she said. “We found you some other way.”

The male elf flanked farther around their side, pressing into the atrium. “The Traitor Duke keeps strange company,” he said.

“My son is no traitor,” Mother said, voice very tense. “How do you know us?”

Trito stood, at last. “He means me. You look well, Horestaz.”

“I could understand bringing mortals here,” the male elf, Horestaz, said, “but magicians? You? Or have you betrayed your people again?”

Aletheia drew her nocked arrow back an inch farther. She stepped in front of Corvo to block him from the others’ view, but when she did, he found his back enveloped in the ruin’s darkness.

Over his shoulder, he saw the shadow move. He was certain of it.

He ran to Mother’s side and cowered in the light of her torch.

“You all know each other?” Aletheia asked.

“We’ve met,” Elysia said.

“So how did you find us?” Trito said.

“For the same reason we haven’t slit your throats already.” Elysia withdrew her arrow, finally, and the string went slack. She returned it to a quiver at her hip. Then she nodded to Aletheia. “You have a Huntress in your ranks.”

“What the hell are they saying?” Dorian said, speaking Kathar as normal. “Someone use a translation charm on me, damn it. Are we fighting or not?”

“No fighting yet,” Aletheia replied. She lowered her bow and came closer to Elysia. The elf dwarfed her, so that she hardly looked any taller than Corvo did. But Aletheia was brave as she craned her head upright. “You thought I was Astera. Didn’t you?”

Elysia stared down at her. But she nodded. “You have her scent,” she whispered. “Where is she?”

“We are not partial to divulging information while threatened,” Mother said. “Lay down your arms and perhaps we may discuss the matter.”

Elysia’s head suddenly snapped Eris’ way. She bared her teeth and hissed; in that moment the flawless, pallid, and beautiful elven visage twisted into that of a startled animal. No human had ever worn a look like that, and Corvo gasped when it slid over him.

He couldn’t look. He had to press his face into Mother’s back.

“Here,” Aletheia said. “Here.” She did as Elysia had already and re-quivered her arrow, then set her bow on the ground. “Astera is dead. If you knew her—I’m sorry. But she’s gone.”

“Aletheia!” Mother said.

“I don’t think she is,” Elysia said. Her expression faded to neutral again, and she looked Aletheia over, trailing a hand along the side of her face. “What did you do to her?”

Trito pulled Aletheia away and stepped up to Elysia. “All this can be explained. And more. But we have already caught the attention of an ilethian. We do not want to stay here any longer.”

“And why should we do favors to you?” Horestaz asked.

“You’ve already done us the favor of staying your arrows,” Trito said. “And while we may be enemies, my return to Seneria is prompted by a mutual foe.”

The other female elf, who had been silent to this point, said now, “Deror will want to see them. We should take them to Waterrest.”

“We should take the blonde girl and Trito to Waterrest,” Horestaz said. “The others should be disposed of.”

“I agree,” Mother said. “We cannot afford another diversion. Let us handle this now.”

“You’re confident in your power, human,” Elysia sneered, “but you should not underestimate ours.”

“The Elves of the Shadowed Lands will be able to guide is safely to the City,” Trito said. “Their village will be safe from the ilethian, and many more monsters beside There is no need for this to come to violence.”

“We will not vacate a fight we may easily win and go willingly to a place where we cannot hope to escape from,” Mother said.

“I will,” Aletheia said. “I want to speak to Deror. Whoever he is. And I’ll tell you exactly what happened to Astera. But you can’t harm Eris, or Corvo. Or Trito. That’s my deal.”

Corvo dared to look again. He saw nothing but pointed glares between each and every member of the two parties. But at last Elysia glanced Aletheia up and down, and she nodded.

“These terms are acceptable,” she said. “Leora is right; Deror will want to speak with you, too. And this place isn’t safe.”

She nodded and turned.

“Follow us. Try to keep up with your horses.”

“This is lunacy,” Mother said. “Did you not warn us of the elves’ treachery?”

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“There are many treacherous elves in this land,” Trito said. He rode beside her and Corvo on his horse. They moved swiftly through thick and luminescent underbrush. “But the one we have found is trustworthy.”

“Why?” Aletheia asked. “Who is she?”

“You will find out soon. For now, focus on the ride ahead.”

The three elves led them on foot. Yet they went quickly, as fast as anyone could while moving through so much foliage, and they leaped and maneuvered over fallen logs or boulders as deftly as Corvo could step over pebbles.

They never tired. They never slowed down.

Mother sighed. But she said nothing else to the others. She tossed her torch away and held Corvo tight in the saddle, and she whispered to him, “Do not trust anyone but me. Never leave my side.”

“Not even Aunt Aletheia?” he said back.

She shook her head as she gazed onward seriously. “Not even her,” she said.

Soon they found purple sigils carved into two yellow tree trunks. Corvo had seen similar arcane symbols in Mother’s books before, pulsating with mana—just as these did. They stood on either side of a trail that appeared suddenly, and beyond it, down its path, the pale forest seemed brighter than elsewhere.

Countless more symbols appeared thereafter. Some were carved in lines, like script in an unfamiliar language, along branches or atop boulders and rocks and stones. Another was left in a patch of grass, as though made by mowing.

“What are these?” Dorian whispered. “Are we being ensorcelled already?”

“In a sense,” Trito replied. “They are wards to conceal the magic of this village. To render it invisible to creatures like the ilethian, or demons, or orcs.”

“What village?” Aletheia asked.

They turned about a narrow twist in the trail that led into even thicker foliage. A few feet farther, Elysia came to a stop, forcing all the others behind her to stop, too.

Elysia whispered something distantly. A gesture of her hands. A brief tremor seemed to pass under Sinir’s hoofs.

The village appeared.

Black buildings the size of the Tower of Keraz were subsumed by glowing forest growth. They stood here and there along the banks of a river, the roar of which only now could be heard. Elves taller than the tallest men Corvo had ever met went back and forth between structures covered in plants of every color. In the biggest of the forest’s trees were built platforms of wood on which elves sat and watched the party from above. Twinkling silver lights drifted through the air, so that it was bright enough to see as though standing directly in a full moon’s light.

The humans stared at the floating lights in silent awe. Corvo had grown up around magic. He was used to it. It seemed normal to him, so that its absence would have been stranger than its presence. But this was nothing like Mother’s spells or Aletheia’s cantrips.

Elysia whispered something to the other two elves and sent them away. Then she led the party toward the largest building in the village, of black stone and at least ten stories tall. Yet as they followed, their presence became known. Dozens of empty white elven eyes turned to stare at them. Villagers stopped their work and spoke in Regal, saying, “Is that a human child?” or, “That girl must be mortal,” to each other in hushed voices.

A young elven boy, outwardly no older than Corvo, gawked at him with an open mouth. Corvo would have gawked back but for being too afraid.

“They have never seen humans before,” Trito said. “Do not focus on their gazes.”

When they reached the tower, Elysia motioned for them to dismount. “Human horses. No doubt poorly trained. An outrider will fetch them.”

“We do not intend to stay long enough to need them stabled,” Mother said.

“Good,” Ellysia said. “You won’t be invited for long. Wait here.”

She disappeared through a wide archway. Corvo couldn’t see far within, but past its threshold came a warm glow like moonlight.

They dismounted and waited in the cold air for what seemed to be an eternity to Corvo. He grew so bored that his fear and amazement sizzled to staleness, so that he had no choice but to fall to the grass and begin tugging at it, wondering if it was a good time to ask Mother for his toys.

But then, just as his mind was about to melt from waiting, Elysia returned.

“You’re in luck. He’ll see you,” she said.

She disappeared inside again. But this time the party followed.

The first floor of the tower was lined with magelights like Mother’s, silver and bright. This was a place totally secure from the Shadow Man. A guard stood by with a spear in his hands, wearing light armor similar to Trito’s, yet he hardly noticed as they passed by him, past a well of crystalline water, and up a staircase. It twisted around just as the Tower of Keraz had, leading through open-air rooms with wide, glassless windows and large beds. The masonry was of huge black stones; the style of the architecture was different and far less foreboding, but Corvo soon noticed that the manner of construction was indistinguishable from the Boyar’s castle, or the distant Spire in Veshod, or any other countless ruins of the Old Kingdom that they had passed over their travels.

This was a ruin, like all those other places. Except it hadn’t ever been ruined.

The top of the tower peeked out above the treetop canopy around the village. It had no ceiling, and the moon shone down upon it like an enchanted spotlight upon a pedestal. Corvo stood on his tip-toes to glance over the side, at the ground and the river below, but he saw nothing but the uppermost branches of the forest. Their leaves congealed together to create the illusion of a radiant ocean leaking light up toward the skies. The movement of the branches in the wind was like the rolling of the waves. The rustling zephyr was like the distant roar of the sea meeting the shore.

Mother tugged Corvo away from the ledge and toward the roof’s center.

There, eating from a bowl with his fingers, sat a man in a robe. On the ground. His black hair cascaded down his shoulders and toward his chin, which was covered in a thick, but not especially long, beard.

Yet his ears stuck through the top of his hair. He was an elf, and his elven eyes could not be mistaken when he looked up at the party.

Mother and the others became very tense. Corvo followed their lead. But behind his beard, the elf smiled, and he gestured to ground in front of him.

“You must be very hungry,” he said. His voice was soothing and strong. “Would you sit a while and eat dinner with me?”

“That depends on if it’s time for dinner,” Aletheia said. She glanced up at the moon.

“I find any time is time for dinner, if I’m hungry enough. Please. Sit.”

Trito sat first. He had his spear with him, no one had tried to take it, and he folded his legs before the robed elf. “Your hospitality is always legendary, Deror.”

“As is your unusual company, Prince Trito,” the elf, Deror, said. “Some things have not changed.”

Aletheia joined Trito. Dorian did next, and then Mother and Corvo were left alone. He could see in her face that she was thinking of some way to escape. It would have been easy for her to transform them both and then escape, leaving these elves behind. But Corvo grabbed the chain of her sleeve and tugged.

“I’m hungry,” he said.

And she sighed. But she relented, and she led Corvo across from Deror and sat down with him. But she didn’t let him leave her lap. She pulled him there and wrapped her arms around him, setting her staff down at her side.

“We have not come this far for more idle chatter,” she said. “I hope you do not mean to waste our time.”

“Time. Yes, time is very precious to your kind.” He took another bite. “Elysia. Would you fetch the conjurer, please?”

At first she shook her head. But then she left downstairs, sighing and doing as instructed.

“You must forgive her. She is still very young.” His food was set down. “Ah, yes. Time. I had intended to waste a great deal of it, on imagery and florid language and cryptic metaphors and so forth. That is how humans think we elves talk, is it not? In monologues fit for ancient plays, in riddles and much else drenched in enigma? So it is; yet for you, young woman, I will be forthright—if you are forthright with me. Why have you returned to Seneria, Prince Trito? And why as an ally, and not an enemy?”

Trito leaned forward. “There will be time to kill each other many years hence. For now, I seek something different.” He nodded to Corvo. “The boy. A mortal. His father is one of great significance, and it seems he bears a curse.”

“And can it not be lifted?”

“No,” Mother said. “It is not a curse of arcane nature. He is stalked by a creature that dwells in darkness itself. Even now it follows us to Seneria.”

“It must enjoy Seneria indeed, if it craves the dark.”

“I ask nothing from you,” Trito said. “I only wish to return to the Mortalists, who will know how to kill this Shadow Man. For the sake of the boy, and the future of your human cousins, I would ask that you give us safe passage to Ewsos. That is all.”

The elf considered them. Like Elysia had before, he dwelled on Aletheia for longer than the rest.

“In exchange for a simple task, perhaps this much could be arranged. Yet is that the only reason why you’ve come?” he asked.

“No,” Aletheia said. “My mentor. My friend Astera. She came from this village, didn’t she? That was how you found us? You knew some kind of spell to locate her. But it led to me instead.”

Elysia appeared again up the staircase. This time another elf in a robe was with her, who set about conjuring a meal on the ground beside them. That interested Corvo more than anything else, yet he still listened as he watched sweets, rice, and fresh fish appear as if from nothing before his eyes, being set in dishes that materialized in moments.

“That’s right,” Elysia said. “You can imagine our surprise to find her missing still.”

“Did you know her?” Aletheia asked.

“Of course I knew her,” Elysia said. “Why do you think I came searching for you the moment you landed? Would I have done that for a stranger?” She shook her head, and, sighing, took a seat beside Deror. “Of course I knew her,” she repeated. “She was my sister.”