Yelora

“Get up! Everyone!” Yelora cried. “We need to leave for the crash site now!”

Kashur got to his feet, echoing her wake-up call and telling the others what Yelora had revealed. “We’ll join with the Imperial and Dwarven forces,” he added. “Together we can get inside and overwhelm Mol Morin’s army. We’ll save Sochee and the rest of the Elves.”

“What will we do with the boy?” Bayne asked as they gathered their things in blackness.

“He can ride in the golem with you,” Yelora said. “Where’s the Elemental?”

“There’s been no sign of it.”

Using compass flowers for guidance, they made their way through the forest at night, Bayne and the Emperor crashing their way around trees in the golem, the two ruby-red lights of its eyes illuminating the path. On the great machine’s heels rode Yelora on the horse she’d taken to find Gorlo. Kashur was on the mare with Ivy perched in front of him, leaning against him half-asleep.

Sochee’s screams played in Yelora’s head in a frantic loop. Dear Sprites, what was Mol Morin doing to her? To all of Yelora’s people?

She’d failed them. She’d sent the hawk too late, and Mol Morin and Ronith had intercepted it. Had the Elves opened the door for them, thinking they were allies? They must have. And had Mol Morin and Ronith turned on them? Or had the Elves seen the corruption clinging to the old Alchemist like a curse? Had they refused entry to his Goblins, forcing his hand. When had he taken Sochee prisoner? Why?

If Yelora had been there, none of this would have happened. But she hadn’t been. Instead of warning her people, leading them, being the queen they deserved, she’d been out here, searching for Gorlo, getting distracted by Kashur.

In fact, Mol Morin had accused her of as much in the recording, after Sochee’s screams died away, in a part of the message Yelora hadn’t played for Kashur. How had the Alchemist put it?

I see my Summoner has been keeping you busy.

What did he mean by that? Was Kashur in on this? Part of the Alchemist’s plan?

No, impossible. His heartfelt plea in the air for her to lead the other factions against Mol Morin. His confession that it couldn’t be him. Their kiss. All of those things proved he was on her side. Besides, Kashur was as horrified as she was about the devastation of Terris. They’d both vowed not to use any more of the foreign magic.

The Alchemist was simply playing games with her. Well, he would see what kind of an opponent she was.

She shoved down any doubts. She would not abandon her people, would not abandon Sochee. She would lead these armies against Mol Morin and defeat him. Then she would find Gorlo and force him to fulfill his destiny, no matter how gruesome. Perhaps the very last thing this abominable magic would do would be to restore the Elves’ fertility. That in itself would make all of their suffering worthwhile. They would bring new Elves into Terris. If there was any Terris left.

They arrived in the evening of the following day to find the Imperial and Dwarven forces already awake and mobilizing. Although the crash site was still hidden with Yelora’s own shade spell, they’d found it anyway through Ronith’s treachery. The army was clustered in the canyon between the sprawling cliffs that protected the stronghold on two sides. The impenetrable stone wall her people had erected shielded the front, its gates magically hidden. Yet, the Imperial/Dwarf armies were lined up facing it with fifty golems and thousands of soldiers. Still they hadn’t made a move yet. They weren’t that foolish.

She trotted her steed up to where Bayne had stopped his golem to survey the activity. “Who is in charge?” she called up to him.

“My Sentinel.” It was the boy Emperor who spoke, pointing a finger at a gold-armored Imperial marching back and forth along the front line. “Kenji Zamora. The one who stole my crown.” The boy had more color in his cheeks and was sitting upright for the first time since being afflicted by the crystal garden.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Yelora activated a protection spell, her natural powers bolstered by the convergence above. As she peered through the brush, Kashur brought his mount up beside hers.

“Don’t come on too strong,” Kashur said, his tone dark as he tied a white strip of cloth to the tip of a branch.

She bristled. “What do you mean by that?”

“We are not in a position of strength here, Yelora. You need to earn their trust. Go in as equals. These aren’t your subjects. You’re not their queen, just one Terran leader of several. You have the best chance of leading us through this particular battle, but you can’t tell them that. They have to realize it for themselves.” He shoved the butt of the stick through a strap on his saddle.

“Your concerns are noted,” she muttered. As if she needed a Wizard to tell her what to do.

They walked their horses into the camp, headed for Zamora, the white cloth high and visible.

“Enemies!” The first Imperial soldier to spot them turned her crossbow on them. She let loose an arrow, which bounced off the invisible shield.

Yelora watched it fall to the ground and lifted her chin. “We aren’t your enemies. And if we were, we wouldn’t be stupid enough to march directly into your camp.”

“What she means to say,” —Kashur trotted his horse in front of her, hands visible, each grasping the opposite wrist to show he was performing no magic— “is that the Elves are not allied with the Wizards. In fact, the Wizards and their Goblins have taken the crash site, and we mean to join with you to take it back from them.”

Kenji Zamora pointed his own crossbow at them and waved over a Dwarf with a magic dampener to take his place beside him. “Why should we believe you?”

Kashur forced a laugh. It sounded like bits of metal clanging together in a drum. “Well, don’t take our word for it, Kenji, chum. Take the word of your genius Dwarf engineer over there. Bayne! Bayne, could you come here for a second and tell these nice people that we’re on their side?”

Bayne was out of his golem now, hanging off the front of another golem, changing out its power source.

“They’re good!” he said, throwing an awkward thumbs up from his perch. “You should listen to them!”

Kenji nodded. “Well that’s a glowing recommendation if I ever heard one.”

Yelora shifted on her mount. This was taking too long. Mol Morin could be doing any number of horrible things to her people inside. Sochee might even be dead!

“Listen to me, Sentinel,” she said between gritted teeth. “If you won’t take anyone by their word, then use your own sense. You’ll never succeed with a frontal attack on this stronghold. I designed it. It is built to withstand the likes of you, and I think you already know that because you haven’t yet launched an attack.”

“We don’t need an Elf’s help to attack her own stronghold,” Kenji sneered. “We know how to overcome your shade spells.”

“If you’ll turn your magic dampeners on the wall instead of on us, you’ll see that you do need my help after all.”

Reluctantly, Zamora waved another Dwarf over to point a second magic dampener at the wall.

“To the left and lower,” Yelora said curtly.

The petty facade fell away, revealing an army of Goblins guarding two gates in the stone wall, armed with bows and arrows, crossbows, throwing axes, and knives. The crowd gasped. Even Kenji took a few steps back as they leered and gestured lewdly at him.

“Let that be a demonstration of my good will.” She caught a short nod from Kashur who sat quietly on his mount beside her. “And I have more to offer. I know the weaknesses of this place, and how to bypass them.” Yelora smiled her Elven smile at him, the one Elves had been using on Imperial men for centuries. “I can get us inside.”

Kenji’s shoulders softened. “I’m listening.”

“Call your leaders together. Let’s meet in your war room.” Yelora slid off her horse and eyed Kashur. “The Summoner comes, too. And Bayne.” They handed the reins to Ivy and sent her off. Kashur watched the little girl walk off alone, a line of worry between his brows.

“She’ll be safe. These are her people,” Yelora whispered to him.

“That doesn’t always mean something among Imperials,” he replied.

Inside the tent, Yelora faced the group of fifteen Dwarf and Imperial leaders with Kashur and Bayne at her side. It was time for her to be a leader—not just of the Elves, but of all Terrans.

A show of strength.

“First of all,” she announced, voice booming across the tent. “You must stop using the crystals.”

“Why would we do that?” Kenji Zamora flared as grumbling broke out amongst the others. “Our enemies are using them, and it’s making them more powerful than ever.”

“You’ve seen what they’re doing to Terris,” Yelora snapped. “They weaken us. They weaken Terris. Bayne has a way to undo their damage, but not if we just keep making more of it. Stick with your traditional weapons. The Summoner and I aren’t using any crystals, either. And if my plan succeeds, we won’t need any.”

“What plan, Elf Queen?” Kenji snarled, closing the space between them. “Are we going to sing the Wizards and their new magic a song? Maybe sculpt them a pretty statue?”

He dared approach her? Fire flared in her veins as Yelora closed the space further. “I will sculpt the nose right off your hideous Imperial face!”