Lord's Fall

“There’s too much to explain quickly,” he said. Linwe slammed into Ferion’s side, and he put an arm around her, hugging the young Elf tight against his side. “One of the Numenlaurians used a very old Power against us. Telling the rest of the story would take time we do not have.”

 

 

Calondir approached, and the Elves that surrounded them backed away. The High Lord glanced over the other Wyr to Pia and gave her a curt nod. “The fire’s very close,” Calondir said. “We’re going to have to cross over, and if they’re waiting on the other side, we’ll have to try to fight our way through.”

 

Fight their way through what? Or whom?

 

“Where’s Beluviel?” Pia asked.

 

“She has been taken, along with many others,” Calondir said. “They’ve already crossed over.”

 

“Taken how?” Eva demanded sharply.

 

The High Lord did not appear to take offense at her tone. Calondir said, “Many of us were taken over while sleeping, and they rose to attack the rest of us.” His gaze moved over them. “I see all of your party is intact.”

 

Then the entire conversation became blah blah blah as the only thing that mattered in the world happened.

 

Dragos growled in her head, Pia.

 

Wild joy transformed her, blazing brighter than the fire.

 

It’s not my fault, she groaned. Oh my God, I missed you.

 

I’m coming in fast, he said. Where are you?

 

We’re with Calondir in a clearing by the Elves’ crossover passageway. He said that Beluviel and others have been taken over. I think he means they’ve been controlled, because the Elves have been fighting each other. We—we’re going to have to cross over, Dragos. The Wood is on fire all around us, and it’s getting close.

 

No! Do not cross, he said sharply. Not unless you have no other choice. Please, Pia. Wait for just a little while longer and trust me.

 

Please. There it was, and not when he was cajoling, and not when it was comfortable. Her hair was practically on fire, and she was surrounded by Elves. She was even with Calondir, whom she was pretty sure occupied the bull’s-eye in the dartboard of hated people in Dragos’s head, and yet Dragos still said please. It was better than any apology he could have crafted.

 

She told him, I’ll wait.

 

Then she said aloud, “We’re not crossing over.”

 

Everyone turned to look at her as if she was crazy. Yeah, she got that a lot. Pretty much ever since she had mated with Dragos, in fact. She focused on Calondir and said, “You said ‘they’ may be waiting on the other side of the passageway, and Ferion mentioned one of the Numenlaurians. Is he by any chance a male with green eyes?”

 

“Yes,” Calondir said, his expression bitter. “If he is not waiting for us on the other side, then some of his people will be. The fire is driving us like cattle toward them.”

 

“Dragos is coming,” she told the High Lord. “He said to wait and not cross over, not unless we absolutely had to.” Well, he hadn’t actually included Calondir in any of that, but she had to think on her feet here with some pretty tight time restrictions, so she figured she was entitled to some broad interpretation.

 

The High Lord stiffened. “The risks you and your mate decide to take have nothing to do with me or my people.”

 

She strangled the sudden urge to slap him. She said, “Calondir, I know you hate Dragos, and to be perfectly frank, he hates you too.” Heh, this next bit was actually kind of funny, although she was glad Dragos wasn’t around to hear her say it. “But he allowed me to travel down to talk with you and to try to make peace with your demesne. In the meantime you say someone is on the other side of that passageway, waiting to cut you down as you try to cross. I wouldn’t like those choices if I was in your shoes, but I really think you ought to wait. Dragos is not going to let me get hurt.”

 

Calondir studied her, his face cold. Then he looked around at the waiting Wyr, and at his own people, many of whom were wounded. As Pia looked around too, she realized that most of them weren’t dressed for fighting. They wore a hodgepodge of casual clothes, and some of them appeared to be in pajamas. They were in no shape to face another battle.

 

“Who has water?” the High Lord asked. Several people raised a hand, although none of them were the psychos, even though Pia knew fully well that they each had a canteen in their packs. “Tear strips of cloth and wet them. Be prepared to tie them over your nose and mouth, and move over to the passageway. We’ll wait.” His gaze came back to Pia. “For as long as we can.”

 

Fair enough. She nodded to him.

 

Eva said to the other Wyr, “It’s good advice. Do as he says.” They each tore strips of cloth and wet them. Getting toasty, princess. Hope the Old Man gets here quick.

 

He said he’s coming in fast. Pia gave into temptation and used her wet strip to mop her hot forehead and cheeks.

 

Eva scanned the nearby blazing tree line. It won’t do any harm to hang with the High Lord by the passageway, just in case.