Blackveil - Page 178/210

“Could make a few houses out of these,” Ard murmured.

Even as Karigan felt a thrill at seeing these living giants where Eletians rested, she could also see how Blackveil had left its mark here, for the trunks showed extensive rot. Blackened beardy lichens trailed from branches. Some of the trees had fallen and become massive corpses decaying into the earth. The canopy of the grove trapped darkness below, the air stagnant.

Graelalea started to draw out her moonstone, but Lynx touched her wrist. “Careful,” he said.

“What is it?”

His brow was furrowed like he had a headache. “We are not alone here. I sense . . . the forest is aware of others.”

“Can you make out who or what?”

He shook his head. “All I can tell is that they are mainly at the other end of the grove. But there are disturbances not too far off.”

“Very well, be on guard,” she said. Hands went to weapons in readiness, and Karigan wondered, as her companions must as well, who else in the name of the hells was in the forest with them. “I must see the grove in the light,” Graelalea said. “Danger or no.”

The light of her moonstone blinded Karigan at first, and seared into the darkness of the grove, plunging into relief the rot that caused the great trees to shed bark, sap oozing from the wounds like blood. The trees were so knotted and burled in places that Karigan fancied she could see faces peering back at her, just like the vision she’d seen in the looking mask at the king’s masquerade ball, which now seemed so long ago. Layers of cobwebs draped between the trees and wafted in air currents. Many glittering multifaceted eyes watched the companions from the shadows.

The light shining on the faces of the Eletians revealed awe and consternation. On Ealdaen’s face Karigan saw only grief.

“We must—” Graelalea began, but howls interrupted her, howls and yips and screams. Arrows sang out of the darkness. “To the castle!” she cried, but even as she turned to lead them away, an arrow penetrated the gap in her armor beneath her arm and she fell.

Faster than Karigan’s eyes could follow, the Eletians responded, white arrows streaking into the shadows. Lynx thrust Yates at Karigan and lifted Graelalea into his arms.

“Groundmites!” he shouted. “We need cover!”

“This way.” Ealdaen swiftly turned and ran toward the castle. Telagioth, Solan, and Lhean kept their arrows flying.

Karigan ran after Lynx, dragging Yates behind her and yelling directions at him even as groundmite arrows fell about them.

They had to clamber over the enormous trunk of a fallen tree, scrambling for finger- and toeholds. It was more like climbing the rocky face of a mountain. Bark crumbled beneath Karigan’s foot and she almost fell, an arrow thudding into the wood beside her. Ard pushed Yates from below, and then they were over the top, down the other side, and running again. Mercifully the ground was relatively level, and then Karigan realized there were flagstones beneath the forest debris. They were heading toward the castle, and when Karigan looked up, she saw wide, curving steps leading up to a terrace and enormous doors framed by statues. The statues were of Eletian maidens gesturing toward the grove, though one’s arm lay half-buried on the ground. They pelted up the stairs and onto the terrace. Ealdaen ordered them to take cover behind the statues.

Karigan peered around the leg of her statue, watching as Telagioth, Lhean, and Solan crouched on the fallen tree trunk, taking careful aim before loosing arrows. Groundmite arrows flew over and around them. It had to have been by sheer accident and not skill that Graelalea had been hit. She glanced at the Eletian cradled in Lynx’s arms. Blood runneled from her white armor and dripped to the stone beneath their feet.

“Can’t help her till we get cover,” Lynx rumbled.

Graelalea’s eyes fluttered open. They were a startling emerald in this dark place. “Galad . . .” she began.

“Shhh,” Lynx said. “You must save your strength.”

“Arodroa imitre!” Ealdaen thundered, making Karigan jump.

He stood before the great doors muttering something, and if she didn’t know better, she could swear he was cursing in Eletian.

“They need the moon,” he said, frustration in his voice. He disregarded the arrows that skittered on the stone around him. He took out his moonstone and silvery light rippled across the doors, revealing shining, swirling designs incorporating a tree, the stars, and the moon, very similar to the moondial they’d seen in Telavalieth.

“Arodoa imitre en muna!” Ealdaen commanded.

There was a discernible snick of a mechanism from somewhere deep within the doors, and a groan, but they still did not open.

Ealdaen did not flinch or move when an arrow bounced off the back of his armor, and he loosed another stream of what Karigan could only guess was more colorful Eletian cursing. He actually kicked one of the doors. And it opened—just a crack—but it opened. He, Grant, and Ard threw themselves at it and pushed, opening it just wide enough to permit them to enter.

Ealdaen gestured for them to go in and Karigan hoped they were not entering something worse than what they were leaving behind. Ealdaen paused on the terrace. “Telagioth!” he shouted.

Karigan glanced back in time to see Solan, and then Lhean, leap off the tree trunk and pelt toward them. Moments later Telagioth followed. By the time Karigan had guided Yates into the castle, the three Eletians were filing in behind them and pushing the door closed.

“The groundmites have magic with them,” Telagioth said. “I can feel it.”