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When they reached the second level, the guard led them across platforms and walkways to a more central staircase to the third level. A few minutes later, they arrived at their familiar rooms in the trunk of a massive tree.
The guard opened the door and stuck his head inside. The hushed talking coming from inside stopped.
“Rain and Shea are back, sir,” he said, then nodded his head in respect.
There was a short silence, and then she heard Whiskey’s voice. “Well, send them in, son, right away! We don’t have time for formalities.”
“Yes sir, certainly.” The guard quickly took a step back and motioned for them to enter the room, smiled briefly, and left.
Rain pushed the door open wider. Inside, instead of more white orbs, a few candles were lit. Whiskey and Rowena sat opposite each other in comfy chairs, the small table between them. The filled water pitcher and fresh fruit on the table were forgotten.
Whiskey looked at her and smiled wide, happy to see them. It turned to a look of surprise, and then fear, when he glimpsed Shea coming in the room behind her.
“Oh… oh, no.” he whispered.
Rowena followed his gaze and shared his look of despair. She looked back at Rain. “He’s gotten it, hasn’t he?”
“Yes, he has the Soulblight.” The blunt words coming out of her own mouth caught her stomach in a death grip. She fought back the beginnings of tears with a sigh.
“Come, put down your things and sit with us. It is certainly good to see you alive and well.” Rowena smiled sadly, an odd sight for Rowena, and patted the seat of a chair next to her.
“How have things been going here?” Rain asked worriedly. Shea sat by Whiskey, staring at the wall.
Whiskey stared at one of the thick white candles on the table. “Horrible. More people are being infected by the day. Most don’t die, but they become quite weak with fever, and do not show any emotion. They do not move on their own, unless asked. It is so strange…” he trailed off into his own thoughts.
“Did you discover anything about the cure?” Rowena asked, dim hope lighting up her face.
Rain settled into her chair. “I’m not entirely sure.”
The two wizards looked at her quizzically.
“The Goddess told me a prophecy. It might have some kind of clue.” She proceeded to recite the prophecy spoken to her at the lake. As she spoke, Rowena quickly pulled out a notebook hidden somewhere in her robes, and scribbled down the words.
Rowena and Whiskey looked at each other. “You do know that you’re speaking in Old Elvish, yes?” Rowena said.
Rain frowned. “No I’m not, it’s…” She sighed. Another setback. Not much surprised her lately. “Can either of you understand it?”
“My old elvish is rusty, but I can mostly make it out,” Whiskey said.
“‘…open the Hollow,’” Rowena read. “That is an old legend.”
“Do you know what it means?” Rain asked in surprise.
“It is said that the Hollow itself was named after something else that lies deep within it, far underground. A portal, a door to other worlds.” Rowena looked out the window into the night.
Something clicked in Rain’s mind. The Hollow had sounded familiar, but now she knew why. The description of it brought her back to the dream she had with the door and the dreamwalker in the exquisitely decorated torch-lit room.
“Your description reminds me of that dream I had. Remember, Whiskey? Why don’t we go there?” She wasn’t eager for another long trip into the forest, but she would do it if it could save Shea and the others. “If we have to ‘open the Hollow’ to save the cursed ones, then we should be on our way soon.”
“We don’t know if that’s what the prophecy is implying,” Whiskey said. “‘The answer is buried deep inside.’ We don’t know where this answer is, only that it’s ‘inside’ somewhere.” He rubbed his hands over his face as if to say, “It’s hopeless.”
“But we have to do something,” Rain urged. It was strange for Whiskey to not make a plan, no matter how desperate things were.
“The door within the Hollow is only a legend,” Rowena insisted. “Perhaps the Goddess was alluding to something else.”
“No!” Rain said loudly, surprising Whiskey and Rowena, and even herself. She let her voice quiet considerably before continuing. “I think it’s too much of a coincidence. If she mentioned opening the Hollow and this door possibly exists, we should start by finding out if the legends are true. So many of the stories I learned as a child have turned out to be true, anyway…”
The corners of Whiskey’s mouth twitched up in a quick smile. “You sure have gained some nerve since I last saw you. We appreciate that you have your own ideas about how to solve this, but you’ve done your part. You went to Lake Dolmeria and got the information we needed, even if it’s not as clear as we’ve hoped. Tomorrow we will take the information to the Council and work out what the words of the prophecy mean, and take action from there.”
She glanced at Rowena, who nodded once in agreement. “Whiskey, you don’t understand. I’m not sure you’ll have time to puzzle out the prophecy.” Their faces turned to looks of concern. “I had another dream,” she said to Whiskey. “A craeton army came here, to Belmaeron, and attacked. There was a horrible storm, created by a Wingmaster. It all happened around twilight. Since it hasn’t happened yet, I think it will happen soon.”
“Did this dream have a dreamwalker in it?” Whiskey asked, calmer than Rain expected.
“Well, yes. I tried to warn people of the disaster I knew was coming, but the dwarf I tried to tell turned into the dreamwalker and made me watch the destruction…”
“That doesn’t necessarily mean the city will be destroyed. It could mean that dwarf you ran into is a real person, or that there will be a natural storm. Any small part of it could be the real part. It could have been sent to confuse us.” He sighed and stared into the candle flames. “We certainly have been attacked by the Soulblight. It could just be reflecting our troubles here with the sick.”
“You don’t know anything,” said a menacing voice.
They all stared at Shea. Rain froze when she saw his eyes had blackened again. It was Myrna this time.
“Don’t look at him!” Rain yelled. “Look away from his eyes!”
“The dream could mean anything, old man. Have you really considered the possibilities?” He smiled darkly. “No, you haven’t. Your thinking is too clouded to see hope. Your optimism is gone, isn’t it? It’s too bad. You weaklings don’t even need to be fully cursed to be depressed.” The corners of his lips turned down in a mocking frown.
Whiskey was stock still, trapped in Shea’s dark gaze. But Rowena gave Rain a quick look when Shea was looking the other way. Rain realized she wasn’t affected, but wanted Shea to think she was.
Rain had to do something. She looked around the room, searching for anything that could help her. Could she kill him if she had to? It would only be a last resort.
Shea stared at her with a strange, feral curiosity. Myrna was keeping Whiskey immobilized without even looking at him.
She spotted a handkerchief sitting under the water pitcher, and a thought came to her.
“Sister Rain,” Shea said with a sneer. “Now you see how weak your allies are. Not only your beloved Whiskey,” he spat, “but your parents, as well. Even the man who resides in this body. Truly weak.” He laughed. “The minds of humans are most interesting.”
“Get out of him!” Rain said. She lunged for the handkerchief, lifting the water pitcher to get to it. She began folding it into a thick strip. “Why do you talk through him, and not someone else? There are plenty of sick people for you to inhabit.” Perhaps if she kept whatever evil that was in Shea occupied with talking, she wouldn’t have to get out her knife.
“Oh, my dear, he is the most interesting.” Shea, or the evil inside him, smiled cruelly. “You escaped the wolf attack, but he did not. The thoughts he’s had, Sister, are most entertaining. And you two are connected. You love him, don’t you?” The voice chuckled.
A burst of rage filled her. She lunged forward and thrust the folded handkerchief over his eyes. He struggled and yelled, throwing his head around violently. She called on red energy and felt unnatural strength fill her arms. She managed to hold his head still and keep his arms and legs from getting in the way while tying the handkerchief around his head to cover his eyes.
Shea’s arms flailed, trying to grab the ends of the handkerchief to untie it. Rain gathered all the red energy she could to fend off his attacks. When Shea—or Myrna—realized he had to change tactics, he yelled and stood up, reaching downward to his belt. Rain struggled to keep him from grabbing his knife.
Rowena finally decided to help. She stood up and ran to the door, hastily rummaging through their saddlebags. She came back with a length of rope in one hand. She helped Rain by grabbing Shea’s right arm, which was dangerously close to his dagger, and forcing it behind his back. Rain helped her and they tied both of Shea’s hands.
When they let go of his hands, Shea lost his balance and fell to the floor, face first between the chairs. “You can hurt this body, but you cannot hurt me,” Myrna’s voice said, muffled by the floor. “You have no idea what’s coming.” In his weakened state, the voice wasn’t as threatening, but the truth in the words was clear to Rain. She had to convince the rest of the Council of the coming attack if Whiskey and Rowena wouldn’t listen.
After a scream of defiance, Shea’s body went still. Whiskey finally snapped out of his stupor, head in his hands as he tried to come to his senses. Rowena stepped forward and rolled Shea onto his back. His jaw was slack, and he had a bruise forming on his forehead from the fall. Myrna’s words echoed in Rain’s mind. You love him, don’t you? She held back a sob and felt tears spring to her eyes. It was torture to see him so ill, so helpless.
She stepped around him, pushing the chair out of the way, and kneeled on the floor by his head, cradling it in her lap. She placed her hand on his forehead and let the feeling of yellow energy fill her body, the light of healing and growth.
After a short minute, the bruise started to fade. Whiskey and Rowena stared at her and her glowing yellow hands. “You can heal? Already?” Whiskey asked in surprise, fully awake.
“You heal with elemental magic,” Rain said in the hope that he’d let the matter go. She released the yellow energy in her body but kept Shea’s head in her lap.
“It’s amazing you’ve figured out yellow energy on your won,” Rowena said, a smile lighting up her face. She bent down and felt Shea’s forehead. “The fever’s gone,” she said. “Rain, have you tried healing him from the Soulblight?”
“Yes, I don’t think it’s possible,” she said reluctantly. Whiskey nodded, as if he knew this already and was waiting for her to give the right answer.
“We should get him to the infirmary with the others, then, in case it comes back,” Rowena said.
“The fever isn’t the only thing that may come back,” Whiskey reminded them. “He could be talked through again—and we don’t want people around when that happens. This is the worst case of the Soulblight we’ve seen yet. Do you really think the infirmary is the safest place for him?”
Rowena stood up and stared at him worriedly. “What are you suggesting?”
“An isolation room.”
Rain wasn’t sure what that meant, but she didn’t like the sound of it. “Why should only he be in isolation? Couldn’t the other cursed people be possessed as well?”
Whiskey shook his head, and she knew he wouldn’t change his mind. “He’s close to you. Myrna probably thinks it’s more painful for you to see him sick.”
“Will I be able to visit him?”
“No, child,” Whiskey said quietly. “He cannot see anyone other than the elemental healers.” Rowena looked sympathetic.
Despair filled her, and she felt the distance between her and Shea grow wider. She carefully set his head back on the floor and stood up, doing her best to keep in a positive frame of mind. It would do no good to become pessimistic like Whiskey and Rowena. If she couldn’t help save Shea directly, then she would look for a cure with her only clue, this Hollow place, no matter what the others said. But first, they had to prepare for attack. They had to believe her.
“There’s something else I should tell you. I met a woman named Edana on the way to Lake Dolmeria. She claimed to have been in love with a moon elf before they were banished.”
“Does she know anything more about where the moon elves are now?” Rowena asked.
“No. She…” Rain gathered her thoughts, doing her best not to burst into tears at the memory. “I think she was working for Myrna. But at the last minute, found out I was a moon elf and backed out of her mission to capture me, or whatever she was meant to do. And they killed her for it. I… I found her.”
“I’m sorry, Rain,” Rowena said.
“You walked into a trap,” Whiskey said. “You’re lucky she was gracious. Myrna’s practically unstoppable. You should be more careful next time.”
“Whiskey.” Rowena glared at him. “Don’t be like that. It must have been the Goddess’ grace that saved you, Rain. We can be grateful for that. And we need to believe that we have a chance against Myrna, or we don’t have one at all.”
“Thank you, Rowena,” Rain said quietly.
“It’s getting late,” was all Whiskey said in response. “I’ll take him to the infirmary and see about getting him in an isolation room. You should get some rest, Rain. You just came back from a long journey.”
“Whiskey, you have to believe me about the attack. I’m sure it’s coming, the dream felt so real!” She realized she was pleading and knew that wouldn’t help convince him.
“We’ll talk more about it in the morning.”
He spoke a few words in the magic tongue of the elemental wizards and witches, and Shea was lifted off the floor as if with invisible hands. Whiskey stepped forward and took him in his arms with no effort. Rain somehow sensed the air was helping him with the weight. Whiskey carried Shea out the door and Rowena closed it behind him.
Rain decided to take advantage of the time she had alone with Rowena. “How did you resist it? Do you have an aegis?” Rowena’s collar hid even the chain from view.
“Yes. Everyone on the Council has one. They were created when the moon elves were still here. Not many were made, because it takes a lot of powerful magic to make one. That fear spell was typical of Myrna’s, so the Council decided it was best that they stay protected so they in turn could protect the rest of the people.”
“Why hasn’t Whiskey told me this? Or Shea? I know that Shea wanted to know.” She glanced at him, wondering if he could hear them, but his eyes were closed and he looked like he was sleeping.
“I don’t know. Perhaps he didn’t trust Shea completely. But I see he gave you his.”
Rain touched the chain around her neck. Did Rowena know that Shea had an aegis of his own? She wondered how his father had come upon one.
“Tell me more about the Hollow. How would someone travel there? Isn’t it completely surrounded by cliffs?”
Rowena raised her eyebrows, catching on quickly to Rain’s idea. “Young one, don’t even think about going alone. The Hollow is a dangerous place, and the door is only a legend.”
But it wasn’t just a legend. She somehow knew that. She had thought she could trust Rowena, that maybe Whiskey was the skeptical one. She’d have to try someone else.
“I suppose so,” she said, pretending to let the matter go. “I’ll see you in the morning, then?”
“Yes. I hope you get a good night’s sleep to recover for the long days ahead. Goddess knows how hard it’s been lately.” She smiled sadly and turned away, then left the room, quietly shutting the door behind her.
***
Rain didn’t get a lot of sleep that night, despite finally being in a bed. Why hadn’t Whiskey or Rowena believed her? When she had such vivid dreams, in her mind there was no denying their message. She’d have to try and find someone who would trust her, and it would have to be someone from the Council. But who?
After a few hours of restless tossing and turning, she slipped into a deep sleep.
She had the dream again.
The city was burning. People were dying. The dreamwalker appeared as before, and made her watch the destruction. She was powerless.
One week, the shadow-thing seemed to whisper into her mind.
***
Rain awoke in a sweat, heart pounding. She threw the covers off, stood up, and peeked out the window, pushing aside the soft green curtain. In the morning sky, a few thin clouds sat overhead. Nothing was out of the ordinary. But she knew, now. In one week, at twilight, the craetons would attack. The Wingmaster would burn the city. If she didn’t warn them, all that she now knew would be lost.
The elves had told them there were new changes of clothes in their bureaus, so she dug through them and dressed quickly in something she hoped wouldn’t be too conspicuous: a long-sleeved simple blue dress. After deliberating for a minute, she decided to put on her belt with the dagger and its sheath. She was used to wearing it by now, and without it she didn’t feel safe enough. She threw on a dark blue cloak, knowing it would be chilly outside. Autumn was soon drawing to a close.
In the small room outside her bedroom, a light breakfast of fresh bread and fruit awaited her on the table. With Shea unreachable and Whiskey most likely in the city already, it was very quiet, almost unnerving.
She sat down, planning on eating quickly. The honey was slightly warm. Whoever had brought the food had done so recently. She spread a spoonful on the thick, fluffy bread and lifted it to her mouth.
A knock sounded on the door. She put the food down and hurried to see who it was, hoping it was Whiskey. Perhaps she could try again to persuade him.
She turned and pulled the handle to reveal an elven woman standing outside. Her back was to her, and she couldn’t see her face. Her hands were clasped together behind her.
“Hello,” Rain said, wondering if the elf hadn’t heard the door open.
“Hello, miss.” Her tone of voice was somehow familiar. “I’m Shea’s healer. May I come in?” She kept her back to Rain.
There was something odd about her, and it was almost rude how she didn’t turn to face her. She wasn’t about to let her in.
“What do you want? Is something wrong with him?” Rain took a step backwards, uneasy. She held the handle on the inside of the door firmly in her hand, ready to close the door at any moment.
“Of course something is wrong with him.” There was a hint of a snicker. And then Rain realized why she recognized the voice.
The healer turned around and swiftly stepped inside before Rain could stop her. She grabbed the door from Rain and shut it, forcing her to let go of the handle. The healer stood with her hand pressed against the door, facing Rain with a grin on her lips that didn’t reach her eyes.
Her eyes were completely black.
“I must speak with you,” she said, still smiling wickedly. She stared into Rain’s eyes, but Rain was unaffected by the fear spell.
Rain took a step backwards, and forced words out of her mouth. “Why did you come back? To try to scare me again? It’s not going to work.” Her voice was quiet and meek, not what she had planned.
The next moment, Rain found herself backed against the wall with a dagger point dangerously close to her throat.
“To get you out of my way,” she said with a snarl. “You may have kept your dear Shea from wreaking havoc, but I can enter any body afflicted with the Soulblight. Even if you managed to kill this one, I’ll just find another.” She grinned again. “That would be an interesting predicament. A dead body in your room. Wouldn’t that be suspicious?”
Rain let red-hot energy pulse through her body. She grabbed the wrist of the hand holding the dagger and tried to wrestle it away. Finding the healer was stronger than she realized, she decided to change tactics. She balled up her right fist, gathering as much red energy as she could, and punched her in the gut.
The healer let out a whoosh of air and fell backwards onto the ground. In her surprise, the dagger fell to the ground, and Rain snatched it before she could grab it. She scrambled upright, seemingly not affected by the pain. Rain hadn’t ever hurt a person deliberately, but the knowledge of what Myrna had done to Shea, and so many other people, filled her with hatred.
The elf reached for her again, lunging for the dagger. As Rain wrestled with her, she glanced around the room, looking for another handkerchief. The one under the water pitcher had been replaced. She smiled. “You’re just going to have to find another body.”
She kicked her this time, and knowing she wouldn’t be affected by pain, only by force, she aimed for her legs. She fell to her knees, and as she regained composure, Rain ran to the table and picked up the water pitcher. With her new strength, she threw the whole pitcher at her. Water sprayed everywhere, and the glass of the pitcher shattered against her body. The force made her step back in surprise.
Rain grabbed the piece of cloth that the pitcher had rested on and quickly wound it up. The healer had been cut by the glass a few times through the sleeves of her soaked dress. That apparently didn’t bother her. Rain stepped carefully around the glass shards on the ground, wishing she had thrown something less dangerous for herself.
Rain wondered for a moment about how to keep the healer from grabbing her as she tied the cloth around her eyes. Pausing was the wrong thing to do. She recovered faster than Rain expected, and grabbed her wrist and took her jaw with his other hand.
“You’re a feisty one. Let’s cooperate, now, shall we?” The healer grabbed the dagger back from Rain and put it near her throat once again. Rain didn’t move. The healer used the knife to lift the chain of the aegis up so that the milky-white stone came out from under her collar.
“What’s this?” she said, grinning. “Took someone’s fear charm, did you? It’s only as strong as its chain.”
With her free hand she yanked the aegis roughly from Rain’s neck, breaking the clasp and leaving a burn where the chain had been. Rain then felt a sharp pain in her side and her head was knocked back against the wall.
A muffled thud like a crashing door sounded through her darkened senses. She tried to turn towards the sound, but everything hurt. More sounds came, but each one was quieter than the last, and finally, blackness enveloped her completely.