“We did not know it was powerful until the knights came,” he said. “We thought it merely a curious treasure, a bauble to hold and admire.”
“With it…”
“We no longer have it, Palin Majere ” the general said. He shook his scaly head. “While we battled these knights, more of their forces climbed the tower and entered our treasure room, absconding with the Fist of E’li. When darkness foils, we will pursue them. They cannot move through the woods as fast as we can, and we have Sivaks among our ranks. We intend to leave no witnesses among them to lead others back to our stronghold.”
Palin knew that Sivak draconians were created by Takhisis from the stolen eggs of silver dragons. They could fly; unhampered by the thick ground cover they would have little trouble closing the distance to the knights. Middle’s Knights of Takhisis would undoubtedly take the shortest route out of the forest, heading toward the coast or directly north into Abanasinia. The Sivaks would capitalize on this knowledge.
“You have a few hours of light left, Palin Majere” General Urek walked toward the sorcerer, the claws of his feet making dull clicking sounds against the stone. “If you gain the scepter before us, it is yours and we will not challenge you for it. But if we regain it first, we will keep it. Perhaps we could find a way to harness its magic against the Green.”
Palin heard the door open behind him.
“I would hurry,” General Urek said.
“No wonder the elves stay away from that place,” Jasper said once they were safely away from the draconians’ tower. The dwarf was sweating profusely, his stubby legs propelling him as fast as possible. But it wasn’t the heat or the exertion making him sweat. It was fear. The dwarf had felt the sensation before—long months ago on the deck of the ship as it made its way from New Ports to Palanthas. They’d nearly all been pitched into the icy water near Southern Ergoth and swallowed by the White who swam far below them. And he’d felt fear when the blue dragon called Gale had appeared above the ship and killed Shaon. He was almost getting used to fear.
When they were about a half mile from the hidden tower, Feril urged Palin and Jasper to stop. She dropped to her knees and dug her fingers into the damp ground. “We can only guess which way the knights are heading,” she said. “But the earth can tell us for certain.”
“We have to hurry,” Palin said.
The dwarf studied him. The sorcerer was sweating, too, and had a troubled expression on his face. “So I’m not so alone,” he whispered to himself.
“If we don’t find the scepter and return to the elves, I’ll lose Usha,” Palin said.
Feril gently swayed back and forth on her knees, keeping time with the movement of the branches blown by the breeze. She started singing, a tune that sounded like water softly splashing. “Mother earth,” she whispered, ending her song, “give me your secrets. Tell me where the men walk. The ones in black, with hard shells like beetles.” She hummed again, and felt her mind slipping from her own fleshy husk, flowing down her arms and into her fingers, then into the loam. It was rich earth, full of moisture and life and strength.
Magic usually drained the Kagonesti, but not this enchantment. She felt energized by it, and she suspected it was because the dragon had ensorceled the land. Her senses slipped around the bits of rock lodged in the dirt, around rotting pieces of wood. Dead plants added to the life that sprung from the soil, added to the energy and the power of this great forest that pulsed into her. As she probed deeper, there were tiny skulls—squirrels and rabbits that had died and were joined forever with this place. She felt the fervor of their spirits in the soil
It was then that the earth spoke to her, revealing its birth at the hands of the gods and how time had nurtured it. Centuries passed in the elf’s mind while only moments passed around her swaying body. The Kagonesti listened to the stories of how the dragon had added to the forest’s power, enabling the giant plants to grow, the ferns and bushes to cover every inch and to send their leaves rocketing toward the sun. The earth reveled in the dragon’s presence, considering it the source of much of its nourishment. The earth also liked the elves, who had protected it in the years before the dragon came, and did not object to the presence of the draconians.
Feril sensed that the earth was puzzled, torn between the two sides, and well aware that the dragon had slain elves and other creatures. But the essence of the dragon’s victims joined with the soil and the forest, and added to its unique energy. Death was life in the Qualinesti woods.
“The men with shells,” Feril whispered.
Like beetles, the earth answered.
“Yes,” the Kagonesti replied, gaining a mental picture.
And the men the color of the sky and of the jays and of the sweet, juicy berries that ripen in the spring.
Feril was bewildered, but she continued. “These men, they serve another who serves a dragon—one who cares nothing for your beautiful forest. Her realm is barren and hot, lifeless.”
Hot lifelessness, the rich soil replied. I know where these beetles scamper.
The rocks and bits of wood, tiny skulls, and sprouting acorns flashed by Feril’s senses. The Kagonesti’s mind sped ahead, arcing to the north and following the pull of the earth. All of a sudden she felt a great weight upon her back, though there was nothing there save the soft leather tunic she wore. But the weight she felt seemed oppressive, and she directed her senses upward, recognizing mailed, thick-soled boots that trod heavily on the ground and trampled the ferns.
“There are only four of them,” she whispered to Palin. “Two knights and two blue-painted brutes. I think they’re lost. They’re not going in a straight line. The path they’re making looks like a snake.” She knew it was easy to get lost in a forest this dense. “We should catch them by sundown.”
“About the time the draconians come out of their tower,” Jasper said.
Feril let her senses stay with the earth for a few more moments, relishing the sensation and the perceptions, before almost reluctantly drawing her attention back to her companions. She hesitantly rose and started to brush the dirt from her fingertips, then stopped herself. “This way.”
The Kagonesti flitted through the underbrush, as Palin and Jasper struggled to keep up. Neither asked her to slow her pace, however, as they knew how important it was to reach the scepter while it was still light.
They were weary by the time the shadows were thick and by the time they caught up with her, thrashing ahead of them. The meager sunlight was tinged orange, and hinted that soon the forest would be plunged into darkness and the draconians would begin their hunting. They crouched behind an immense, velvety fern and parted the leaves. The two knights were in the lead, using their long swords like machetes to hack at the plants and clear a path. Feril cringed at their careless brutality.
The shortest brute, a stout man of perhaps six feet, carried a leather sack over his shoulder. A wickedly spiked club was clenched in his left hand. The other brute was a foot taller, and was busy scanning the greens all around, alert for trouble. An uneasy expression shrouded his chiseled face. His wide nostrils quivered, and Feril knew he had already smelled them.
She touched the fern leaf in front of her and addressed the plant. “Join me,” she whispered. Her senses easily slipped into the leaves, the stems, then flowed into the roots. The enchanted forest made her nature spells come practically effortlessly, and her mind quickly touched the other plants around the knights and brutes. She felt Palin crouch near her.
The tall brute stopped and whirled toward the fern where the trio was hiding. Jasper stood, his hammer hefted in his right hand. Judging the distance between himself and the man, he hurled the weapon. It spun over and over, until it struck the man, thumping hard against his abdomen and knocking him backward.