Yelora

Yelora wandered the grounds of her new home, smiling at the sight of her people working so diligently. The Elven people might be small in number, but they were industrious and gifted with their minds and hands. In less than a fortnight, an enchanted sanctuary had been constructed around the meteorite, the broken geode forming the back wall of a luminous, domed sanctum where transplanted plant life flourished in the filtered light of an expansive glass ceiling. A tranquil pool of water glistened in the center of the sanctum, its water reflecting the purple of the hundreds of thousands of crystals underneath the glass walkways constructed around it. Yelora’s castle wrapped around the sanctum like a fruit around its seed.

As for the rest of the grounds, the aqueduct was complete, as well as the homes and gardens and monuments it fed. The fortress wall cast a half-moon shadow over this new Elven stronghold, pinning it against the seaside cliffs, its foundations dug deep into the flatlands. Of course it was not entirely flatlands. Yelora swallowed hard as her gaze fell upon the single, oddly shaped grassy hill her Wood Elves had been forced to navigate as they built. She recognized it for what it really was—the buried foot of the Elemental. At least the rest of its body and the Summoner’s tree shading it were outside the walls, where she wouldn’t have to look upon them.

She would, however, have to look upon the Summoner himself. Now that her new stronghold was completed, fortified, and well hidden, it was time to visit Creation Falls. The Oracle had prophesied that this new magic would be wielded by a newly born Elf who would save her people. Yelora would transport the crystals to the sacred pool and bring forth the child. Her heart swelled with a mixture of pride and gratitude, followed by the comforting sensation of relief. The Elven Faire would not fall under her watch.

Her soft-soled shoes padded up the freshly cut stone steps of the tower where the Summoner was being held. As she followed the spiral staircase inside, she thought she heard voices echoing off the walls. A girl’s giggle. What? Who? She slowed, trailing a hand along the cool wall, listening. She couldn’t make out what was being said, but she recognized the voices. It was Sochee talking with the Summoner. With a stab of annoyance, Yelora picked up her pace.

When she reached the spill of light from the tower’s uppermost window, she was greeted by the sight of Sochee kneeling on a pillow on the floor, spooning oatmeal into the Summoner’s mouth. The air Yelora sucked in between her teeth must have been audible because they both turned to look at her, the pleased smiles still on their faces.

“What is going on here?” she snapped before she could stop herself.

“Breakfast.” The Summoner leaned back, regarding her with something between bemusement and annoyance. “Or was your plan to let me starve up here while you erected your new queendom?”

Yelora’s eyes flicked to Sochee. “Leave us.” Sochee signed a quick “I’m sorry” before complying. Yelora turned back to the Summoner. “Was it really necessary to degrade my subjects by having them feed you?”

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“Actually, it was.” He shifted to show her the shackled wrists behind his back. “I guess everyone is afraid I might magick my way out of here if I have the use of my hands.”

“Or age them to death,” she replied.

“Or that.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “Nice crown, by the way.”

Yelora fought the urge to touch her crown, recently enhanced by an Elven jeweler to accommodate six purple crystals alongside the Riverstone. She took a deep breath, gathering her composure. Slipping a hand into her pocket, she removed the portal device she’d taken from his person; it looked like an Imperial lady’s compact. “I need you to show me how to use this.”

A chuckle escaped him, a lazy unhurried thing. He lolled his head against the wall behind him to glance up at the high window, then brought his gaze back to her sharply. “And why would I do that? Because the Wizards and Elves are allies now?” He shook the shackles behind his back so they rattled against the stone wall.

She’d known this wouldn’t be easy. Perhaps it was better to lead with the carrot. “Help me, and then the two of us shall travel together to the Wizard’s Lair to speak with the Alchemist.”

He blinked those long lashes at her. “Why, M’lady, I’m not sure I trust you.” He shook the shackles again.

“I can’t let you go, you know that.” She smiled. “Not yet, anyway. But soon.”

“Soon?” His eyes widened in mock astonishment. “The Imperials and Dwarves march on the crash site at this very moment!”

This information was not new, but how had he come by it? By charming Sochee and others, no doubt. She’d have to have a talk with her people. “Our enemies flounder in the wilderness. We are well protected.”

“Your Highness, you have started a war!”

She bristled. “I’ve started a war? I wasn’t even at the Council, if you’ll recall!”

“I do recall! And if you had been there to support the Wizards, we might have avoided all this. Including” —he dropped his voice—“including the part where you killed an Elemental.”

Yelora’s throat tightened. She opened her mouth to retort, but could think of nothing to say. There was no justification, no excuse, no apology that would be enough.

But he didn’t chastise her. “You would think the Elementals would retaliate. I’ve looked for one, you know. Hours I’ve spent scrying in my drinking cup for signs. Not that they’re that easy to find on a good day, mind you, but there’s been no evidence of them. Not a whiff.”

So that’s how he got his news. His brown eyes were soft, imploring. Why was he talking to her like this, as if they were co-conspirators in this together? Maybe it was a trap. But she couldn’t help herself. The Elementals’ glaring absence disturbed her, too.

“I’ve reached out to the Elves as well. No one has seen sign of them.”

He got to his feet, shimmying his long cape into place and tossing the black curls from his eyes, gloved hands still trapped behind him. “Two Elementals have never been seen together at the same time. Some think there is only one of them in all of Terris. It just takes different forms—stone, sand, water, earth. The soul of Terris, embodied in whatever medium is available to it.” He took two tentative steps toward her, as far as the shackles, linked to the wall, would let him. “What if that’s true, and you killed it?”