The guard reached over her shoulder. “The release is jammed.”
Glissa bashed the hilt of her sword into the catch again, but it didn’t budge. She slammed her shoulder into the door and even tried to slice through the tree with her sword. It was reinforced throughout. Nothing seemed to work.
“He’s gone through here,” she cried. “I need this open, now!”
The guard turned to the remaining guards. “Go out the main entrance. Climb the tree and open this door.”
Glissa felt a scream welling up inside her and fought to keep it down. “That will take too long.” She had a thought. “Where’s the goblin?”
“A little ways down the tunnel,” replied the guard.
“Slobad!” Glissa screamed as loudly as she could. “Golem! I need you!”
After a moment, she heard booming footsteps coming up the tunnel. When the metal man appeared around the bend, Glissa gasped. He was missing an arm.
“What happened?”
“That’s what I ask you, huh?” said Slobad. “I cleaning the golem arm, then hear screaming, huh? What do you need? I thought this quiet place. Time for cleaning and sleeping.” He paused and looked at Glissa. She was fuming and her face was stained with tears. “What wrong?”
“Chunth is dead,” said Glissa quickly. “The assassin went through this door. Now it’s stuck. Open it!”
The golem moved forward, and Glissa backed up to give him room. The golem walked up to the door, pulled his arm back, and slammed his hand into it. The secret door flew away, landing on the terrace twenty feet away.
Glissa ran through the door, shouting at the guard. “The goblin will fix it later. Go to the elders. Protect them. Find out which one is missing.”
* * * * *
The elf looked around the terrace. Trolls were great climbers, but they weren’t as agile as elves. Glissa was sure the elder wouldn’t have jumped as she had so many nights ago. He either climbed onto the next terrace or took to the trunk. She checked the trunk first.
Recent claw marks led off the terrace around the trunk. Glissa curled her fingers and dug her claws into the tree, pulling herself around the tree as best she could. She was a decent climber but had never scaled the Tree of Tales before. She leaned in and sniffed the claw marks left behind by the elder to get his scent. She might not be as good a climber as a troll, but she was the best hunter in the Tangle.
Halfway around the tree, Glissa lost the scent. There were no claw marks above her, so the troll elder must have descended. The elf pulled her feet away from the tree and pressed in with her claws. They couldn’t hold her weight, and she began to slide down the tree. Glissa dropped her head to see where she was going. It was a straight drop all the way down the tree. No terraces or spires impeded her path to the floor of the Tangle.
How unusual, thought Glissa. A troll escape route, perhaps?
She pulled her claws halfway from the grooves they were making and sped up. Nobody in the Tangle but me would be stupid enough to try this, she thought wryly.
As the elf neared the ground, she was nearly free-falling. The trunk was a blur as it flew past her. Glissa waited as long as she could, then dug her claws back in and slammed the soles of her boots into the trunk to slow her descent. Twenty feet from impact, she kicked off hard and released her claws to send her body flying away from the tree.
She timed the kick perfectly and flew straight toward the end of a curving spire. She grabbed, dug in her claws, and twirled around the tapering spire several times to bleed off momentum. She dropped the last ten feet to the Tangle floor and looked around for movement.
Footsteps sounded behind her, and she twirled, drew her sword, and swung. Kane dropped to the ground before he lost his head.
“Fine way to greet your best friend.” He tried to turn over and get up, but his slagwurm-plate uniform made it impossible for him to bend at the waist.
“Kane, what are you doing here?” cried Glissa. She sheathed her sword and helped him to his feet.
“I was on guard duty at the main entrance. What are you doing here, and what in the flare is going on inside the Tree?”
“No time to explain, but I’m glad you’re here. Did you see an elder pass by in the last few minutes?”
“Yes,” said Kane calmly. “It was High Priest Strang.”
Glissa looked at Kane. “How do you tell them apart?” she asked, then shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Help me find him.”
“He was headed toward the Radix.”
“Follow me,” said Glissa. She trotted off toward the center of the Tangle. “We can’t let him get away.”
Kane ran to catch up with Glissa. “Why? What happened?”
“Strang killed Chunth,” said Glissa, “and he stole something from me that I want back.”
“Chunth?” gasped Kane, running beside his friend. “I thought he was a myth. The troll elite guards speak of him sometimes, but I’ve never seen him.”
“How do you know Strang?” asked Glissa.
“I’ve been assigned to him a few times during rituals. It’s a great honor to serve the High Priest. Strang practically runs Tel-Jilad.”
Glissa and Kane dodged around either side of a rain barrel. Kane continued, “I can’t believe Strang would kill anyone! He’s the most respected elder in the Tree. He presides over the most important rituals. Why would he kill Chunth?”
“I don’t know,” said Glissa as they neared the Radix. She said nothing to Kane of Strang’s attempt to kill her as well. The orb he had used made her neck tingle just like the spy-birds’ attacks. Was Strang, like Geth, working for the vedalken? Chunth said he had kept the serum a secret from the trolls and the elves. How did Strang know about it? She turned these questions over in her mind as they ran.
“Power,” she said at last. “It always comes down to power. Chunth had it and Strang wanted it.”
* * * * *
Glissa stopped. They were at the edge of the Radix. She dodged behind a Tangle tree, pulling Kane close to her. She breathed in his musky scent as his face came close her hers. She had forgotten how good he smelled.
“Kane,” she whispered, “I need your help. If Strang sees me, he’ll run. Go in there and distract him. I’ll take care of the rest.”
Kane hesitated, his eyes darting to the ground. “He’s an elder. The High Priest. Shouldn’t the council take care of this?”
“They’re not here,” hissed Glissa. “Listen, you have to trust me. After he killed Chunth, Strang stole a vial from me. We can’t let him drink what’s in it. Believe me, after I get it back we’ll take him back to the Tree of Tales and turn him over to the council. But we have to get him now.”
Kane straightened his armored jerkin and looked at Glissa. For a moment she thought he was going to salute.
“Okay.”
“Keep him occupied for a minute or two,” said Glissa, “and be careful. He’s a cornered animal.”
Kane nodded, then turned and walked around the tree. Glissa climbed the trunk. She passed two sets of spires before moving around to the other side of the tree. She looked down into the Radix. Kane was talking to Strang. Glissa couldn’t see the blue globe or the vial.
She dropped onto another spire that curved over the edge of the Radix and sprawled onto her stomach. Cautiously she inched her way out over the Radix, marveling, as she always did, at how barren it looked. The clearing was perfectly round and devoid of trees and gelfruit. She had never once seen a vorrac or any other animal inside it. The elves shunned the area as well, using it as a dump. Anything left on the ground there was gone the next morning.
Strang must be getting rid of his evidence, thought Glissa. Well, we’ll see about that. As she inched out closer to the elf and the troll, Glissa could hear them talking.
“What is wrong?”
“It seems there has been an attack,” said Kane. “That rogue elf, Glissa, attacked the Tree of Tales. You must come with me to safety.”
Good, Kane. Glissa inched ever farther toward the end of the spire. Make him feel at ease.