Of Truth and Beasts

The time of victory would come again, and next time, the Children would not lead. Sau’ilahk would regain youth and beauty, awe and glory. He alone would dominate Beloved’s forces. Their worship would feed him more than all of the life he had consumed in his altered existence.

But what of Wynn Hygeorht? What did she seek in this place? Where was an orb that would free him? Where was lost Bäalâle Seatt?

That he depended on this whelp of a sage, an immature infidel, ate at him. He was not foolish enough to pass the tree line and would have to follow her from afar once more. A servitor of Air or Earth would not serve his needs this time. He needed an emissary of consciousness connected to his own.

He needed eyes as well as ears, and perhaps more.

Again, Sau’ilahk blocked out the world, focusing inward, and then looked down. Within his thoughts, he stroked a glowing circle for Spirit upon the road’s packed dirt. Within that came the square for Earth. Smaller still came another circle for Spirit’s physical Aspect as Tree. Between the lines of these shapes, he stroked the glowing sigils with his thoughts.

Spirit to the Aspect of Tree, Tree to the essence of Spirit, and born of the Earth.

His energies bled into the pattern on the road that only he saw.

Sau’ilahk’s form thinned to transparent in weariness, and then a shaft of wood cracked the dirt at the pattern’s center.

It jutted upward as if an overly thickened branch suddenly sprouted there. That short, bark-covered limb bent over, far suppler than it appeared. Along its length, six tinier limbs sprouted to lift its body and rip itself from the road. Turning around, a small knot of ochre root tendrils twitched around its base.

Sau’ilahk bled even more energy into his creation.

Bark peeled back around the root knot. Those tendrils coiled tighter and tighter into a ball. And that sphere took on an inner limelight, growing severe, until it blinked at him.

Flexing lids of wooden root tendrils clicked over one glowing orb like an eye. The servitor spun and rushed toward grass at the roadside.

No! Sau’ilahk commanded.

He reached for his fragment of consciousness embedded within his conjured creation. It halted in its tracks. He held it there as it struggled in resistance, until it finally submitted.

Remain unseen. Follow the trio of human, dwarf, and wolf.

As he released it, the servitor skittered away and shot into the tall grass. Only a ripple among those blades marked its passing. When the trail reached the tree line, that legged branch with one eye in a root knot skittered up a massive tree trunk and vanished into the forest’s canopy.

Sau’ilahk watched foliage shiver briefly and heard the faint click of its legs upon bark. His consciousness rode the servitor into a land where the dead could not walk....

At least none but perhaps Chane Andraso.

* * *

Passing through the city’s archway, Wynn wasn’t given time for awe. Althahk pulled his horse sideways before the wagon, forcing its horses to stop. He pointed off to the right.

“In there,” he commanded.

A large barn, perhaps a stable, was built on the ground. With the exception of smooth, rounded corners, it looked much like any barn in Wynn’s homeland. She didn’t care to be ordered about, but turned the wagon aside. Before the horses had stopped at the wide, closed doors, Althahk gave a shrill, trilling whistle.

One wide stable door slid aside. A bleary-eyed elven male of advanced years stepped out. Only a brief nod of acknowledgment passed between him and the commander. Then he turned to nod a greeting to Wynn—and he froze.

Unlike the commander’s stern suspicion or the counselor’s cold parting words, the stable master just blinked twice, eyes clearing at some wondrous, rare sight.

“Can you stable our horses and store our wagon?” she asked in Elvish, and climbed down.

The stable master almost couldn’t turn his eyes from Shade at first. When he did, he looked Wynn up and down with a friendly smile.

“Most certainly, sage,” he answered.

Everyone else disembarked as Wynn headed around back to retrieve her staff and begin dragging their packs out. But she paused at reaching for the chest.

“Will the rest of our things be safe here?” she asked.

“Certainly, sage,” the elder elf said again.

“How much?” Chane asked, reaching for his money pouch.

Both Chane and Ore-Locks would have difficulty communicating here. Ore-Locks spoke only a smattering of Elvish, and Chane spoke none at all.

“No need,” Althahk interrupted in Numanese, and both his men dismounted. “The guild will be notified and handle payment. Now, if you will follow—”

“I’m not going to the guild just yet,” Wynn said, and even Chane froze at this.

“Where else would you go at this time of night?” the commander challenged.

“There’s something I need to see for myself,” Wynn answered. “Unless you have further doubts or reason for interference, I won’t keep you from your duties.”

Althahk raised an eyebrow.