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Authors: Gary Alan Wassner
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struggled, the more he got tangled in the shrubbery, stuck between the sticky web of branches.
Madar continued on ahead until he disappeared from his companion’s sight completely. Teren could no longer see much of the path in front of himself, but he was so caught up in the shrubbery he hardly noticed. The bush that lodged itself in his shirt made it difficult for him to reach the ground with his hands. He dangled stupidly from the branches.
While fighting to pull himself free, he saw the elf staring at him again, and this time the prisoner’s blue eyes glowed against the backdrop of the gray scrub brush. The severity of the situation didn’t strike him yet, and his anger multiplied along with his frustration.
“You think it’s fucking funny, don’t you?” he exclaimed. “Well you won’t be laughing when I chain you to one of these damn trees and leave you up here!” he threatened, but as he spoke he realized Fallean was having no difficulty at all walking through the trees and brush, and neither were the other two prisoners. A bad feeling crept over him. He gasped for air. “What’s going on here? What the fuck are you doing?” he yelled. The thorns ripped his clothing and stuck into him, and he yelped in pain while blood oozed through the fabric everywhere. “I knew you was evil! Your fucking eyes told me so,” he said, panicked, thrashing around, and becoming more entangled the harder he tried to free himself.
Fallean raised his hand and a blue-white light formed around it, pulsing from his fingers. Teren’s face paled. He couldn’t move, he was totally caught up in the underbrush, gasping and puffing. Fear enveloped him, replacing the arrogance he’d exhibited just a scant moment ago, and he struggled to reach the dagger at his belt. A thorny tendril wound its way around his arm, yanking it over his head. Another caught his ankle, pulling it out from under him, but he didn’t fall. He hung there, suspended between the bushes a few feet off of the surface, spread eagled and trapped.
“Madar?” he shouted, but his friend didn’t reply. “Help me!” he screamed.
Fallean moved the tip of his index finger and the branches tightened their grip on Teren’s limbs, stretching him further. Fallean said nothing as he bound his captor in the thorny underbrush, twirling away while the branches danced in response. Gazing at the chains that bound his own ankles, he bent over and grasped the thick links with his illuminated hand. The metal turned to dust and disappeared.
“Come,” he said in a youthful voice to his companions. “The path down is just on the other side of these trees,” he pointed in the direction Madar had vanished.
Chapter Eight
“Follow me. Quickly, “ Queen Esta said, hurrying toward the wall at the rear of the chamber.
She placed her hands flat against the tapestry hanging in front of her and pushed into it with the weight of her body. Pointing her slipper, she forced the slight indentation in the floor board deeper and drew the tapestry to the side. A whooshing sound followed her action and a musty smell permeated the room. A passageway loomed just inside.
“If Sidra has directed you to do this, then there is no question I will assist you!” she said, sailing through the opening.
Tomas and Elion followed her out of the library into the darkness beyond.
“Yes, I have known her for many tiels now,” she answered Elion’s previous question. “When my husband died, she was my source of strength. I didn’t ask her to help me. I didn’t express my need. She came nonetheless and she stayed with me until I was strong enough to do the things that were required of me. We grew quite close,” she recalled. “And I learned more in those weeks than I had in many years prior.”
“You didn’t mention her to us,” Elion said.
Esta spun around, her skirts snapping, and looked at him. “Should I have? There are many things we have not yet spoken of.”
“Of course there
Madar continued on ahead until he disappeared from his companion’s sight completely. Teren could no longer see much of the path in front of himself, but he was so caught up in the shrubbery he hardly noticed. The bush that lodged itself in his shirt made it difficult for him to reach the ground with his hands. He dangled stupidly from the branches.
While fighting to pull himself free, he saw the elf staring at him again, and this time the prisoner’s blue eyes glowed against the backdrop of the gray scrub brush. The severity of the situation didn’t strike him yet, and his anger multiplied along with his frustration.
“You think it’s fucking funny, don’t you?” he exclaimed. “Well you won’t be laughing when I chain you to one of these damn trees and leave you up here!” he threatened, but as he spoke he realized Fallean was having no difficulty at all walking through the trees and brush, and neither were the other two prisoners. A bad feeling crept over him. He gasped for air. “What’s going on here? What the fuck are you doing?” he yelled. The thorns ripped his clothing and stuck into him, and he yelped in pain while blood oozed through the fabric everywhere. “I knew you was evil! Your fucking eyes told me so,” he said, panicked, thrashing around, and becoming more entangled the harder he tried to free himself.
Fallean raised his hand and a blue-white light formed around it, pulsing from his fingers. Teren’s face paled. He couldn’t move, he was totally caught up in the underbrush, gasping and puffing. Fear enveloped him, replacing the arrogance he’d exhibited just a scant moment ago, and he struggled to reach the dagger at his belt. A thorny tendril wound its way around his arm, yanking it over his head. Another caught his ankle, pulling it out from under him, but he didn’t fall. He hung there, suspended between the bushes a few feet off of the surface, spread eagled and trapped.
“Madar?” he shouted, but his friend didn’t reply. “Help me!” he screamed.
Fallean moved the tip of his index finger and the branches tightened their grip on Teren’s limbs, stretching him further. Fallean said nothing as he bound his captor in the thorny underbrush, twirling away while the branches danced in response. Gazing at the chains that bound his own ankles, he bent over and grasped the thick links with his illuminated hand. The metal turned to dust and disappeared.
“Come,” he said in a youthful voice to his companions. “The path down is just on the other side of these trees,” he pointed in the direction Madar had vanished.
Chapter Eight
“Follow me. Quickly, “ Queen Esta said, hurrying toward the wall at the rear of the chamber.
She placed her hands flat against the tapestry hanging in front of her and pushed into it with the weight of her body. Pointing her slipper, she forced the slight indentation in the floor board deeper and drew the tapestry to the side. A whooshing sound followed her action and a musty smell permeated the room. A passageway loomed just inside.
“If Sidra has directed you to do this, then there is no question I will assist you!” she said, sailing through the opening.
Tomas and Elion followed her out of the library into the darkness beyond.
“Yes, I have known her for many tiels now,” she answered Elion’s previous question. “When my husband died, she was my source of strength. I didn’t ask her to help me. I didn’t express my need. She came nonetheless and she stayed with me until I was strong enough to do the things that were required of me. We grew quite close,” she recalled. “And I learned more in those weeks than I had in many years prior.”
“You didn’t mention her to us,” Elion said.
Esta spun around, her skirts snapping, and looked at him. “Should I have? There are many things we have not yet spoken of.”
“Of course there
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