“I’m fine,” she said. She’d have a massive bruise on her thigh from being clubbed, and she ached, but that was nothing compared to what could have been had the Eletians not rescued her. And, she thought, the cordial Graelalea had given her seemed to have warded off at least some of the pain.
Zachary nodded in satisfaction. “So after you left, I listened to Colin and Sperren explain why I should not trust the Eletians or join in on a foolhardy expedition to Blackveil, and that I should forbid the Eletians passage across our lands to reach the wall. They fear such a venture would only mean certain death for those on the expedition, and that it might stir up things in the forest that might better be left sleeping.”
“What did Lady Estora say?”
“Lord Spane concurred with Colin and Sperren, but the lady spoke up on her own behalf and said she’d support whatever decision I made. Her pronouncement seemed to irritate Spane.” His eyes danced as he sipped his brandy. “Tell me, what do you think?”
“I agree with the others. An expedition into Blackveil will most likely fail. But I sense the profound truth in the Eletians’ desire to investigate the forest.”
“There can be deception in truth.”
Laren smiled. “Spoken like a true king.”
“I fear it is so,” he replied. “All this politicking makes me cynical. I have found all too often there is truth, and then there is truth.”
“Like the castle being a mausoleum?” Laren spoke lightly, but Zachary’s response was sober.
“To Eletians it is truth, for even the living who inhabit the castle are mortal, and therefore more or less dead. Our act of living is also the process of dying.”
Laren set her brandy aside with a clatter. “Then we should all just go to bed and leave the wall untended, and let come what may.”
Now Zachary grinned. “I said that’s how they regard us. I for one believe I have a few good years left in me, and I don’t think I should like to live an eternal life as the Eletians do. Some might desire it, but not me.”
“Never to grow old in appearance? Never to suffer the weakening of the body as it ages?” Laren shrugged. “I guess the Eletians don’t know what they are missing.”
“Perhaps not,” Zachary said, and they laughed. When they subsided, he continued, “You say there is profound truth in their desire to see what lies beyond the D’Yer Wall. I wonder what the deeper truth is. What it is they specifically seek.”
“Specifically?”
“Yes. Argenthyne was important to their people. Jametari called it the jewel of Avrath on Earth, remember?”
“Now that you mention it, I remember something about it. What is Avrath?”
“From what I can fathom, it is a high spiritual place for the Eletians, as the heavens are to us. Something is calling the Eletians back, drawing them out of isolation no matter the cost.”
“If so,” Laren said, “why would Jametari bother to invite us along?”
Zachary shrugged. “To serve as bait? Witnesses? Or maybe it is his way of indicating his interest in the old alliance, and we’re being tested to see if we are worthy. Whatever the case, it is an invitation I cannot ignore.”
BLACKVEIL
The shallow cave Grandmother and her people sheltered in was a dismal, dark place, but it was better than being caught in the forest and getting sucked into some mire. Torrents of rain had poured through the forest canopy for three days now, best as she could figure.
They’d found the cave in a hillside that rose up beside Way of the Moon. It was mainly natural in origin, but refined by hand with stone tools they found scattered about. Someone had widened the entrance and leveled the floor, and there were signs the walls had been chipped at. Grandmother did not see it as the work of Eletians, for it was far too crude, and they did not seem to her to be cave-dwelling creatures.
They’d had to scare out a colony of roosting bats, oversized things displeased at being roused from their winter’s torpor. Their eviction had been accompanied by much screaming and covering of heads by Min and Sarat, which only stirred the bats up more. Even Grandmother found herself shuddering and ducking at the leathery flap of wings so close to her head.
Afterward, Lala found herself a dead bat on the cave floor to examine. She poked it with a stick and turned it over. Grandmother took a closer look herself, amazed at its sharp claws and fangs. The bats she was accustomed to back home were diminutive, maybe the size of her forefinger at the most, and harmless. These were the length of her forearm. Grandmother and her people were lucky they hadn’t been bitten or scratched.
When Griz saw what Lala was about, he grabbed her stick without apology and used it to pitch the dead bat outside. Then he and Cole set about rigging one of their tents over the cave entry as much to keep the rain out as to prevent the bats from returning, while Deglin worked to light a fire. Meanwhile, Min and Sarat cleared the floor of guano. Deglin declared some of it would work as fuel.
A crack in the ceiling drafted smoke out from their campfire, and it was the warmest and driest Grandmother had felt since they passed into the forest. From time to time, she caught sight of large, multi-legged insects scuttling at the edge of the firelight, but as long as she stayed near the fire, they kept clear of her. Every so often Min would scream, and Cole would come to her and crunch the offending insect beneath his boot.
After laying out their gear to dry, Min and Sarat brewed tea and started to make the usual thin stew. The rain provided them with plenty of water, though it left a distinct, dank aftertaste on the tongue.