Chapter 43

“This hound bore the scars of many battles, and his lack of an eye lessened neither his fierceness nor his ability.” The woman stepped closer to Kestrel.

Kestrel inhaled sharply. “Did… did he have a silver web of scars across his body?” The image of Mason webbed in Marley’s cast of lightning flashed momentarily in her mind’s eye. And she hoped her face did not reveal too much of her inner turmoil.

Although the side of this newcomer’s mouth twitched slightly, she gave no other sign Kestrel looked too desperate. “Indeed, it was a web pattern he wore. Do you know him?”

“I do.” Kestrel’s mouth snapped shut, her jaw taut. She forced herself not to grit her teeth. Her mind chased itself as she considered what she was willing to say to these people about her time with this essence-scenting hound. In the end, all she said was, “His name is Mason.”

The woman nodded, not questioning Kestrel’s knowledge. “They took Urilith and those captured into Terijar, to the temple at the Sorrow’s Heart. Is it him whom you seek?”

Kestrel nodded, her emotions too high to speak.

“Perhaps, I can help you find them.”

The frown creasing Kestrel’s forehead deepened into a scowl and her hand drifted to her belt and the thorns she now carried at her side. She shivered, thinking the path she walked now, still entwined with the man that killed her mother. But the whole reason she left Marley and Jayf was captive in Sorrow’s Heart.

Her gaze skipped from Belac to Gariane and then back to the drenched woman. “How do we know what you say is true? We don’t even know your name or where you came from or what you require.” Kestrel looked once more to her friends for encouragement.

But the elder woman seated next to her spoke up. “This is Shel, child. She is more than a bit of a rogue, though a friend to those that would befriend her.” The old mother rose and looked around, her eyes challenging those there to say it wasn’t so. Satisfied by the silent agreement, she continued. “Shel traps dark creatures that creep from the interior of the area, never completely healed after the desolation, and sells her trophies to the highest bidders.

As Shel strode over to Kestrel and the old woman, the melodic tinkle of tiny shells and shining stones woven through her numerous small braids reminded Kestrel of the soothing sound of water trickling over stone. Envy flashed through Kestrel’s mind for a moment. She seemed so confident in her abilities and who she was, even dripping wet.

The elder looked the drenched woman up and down and turned to Kestrel with a conspiratorial wink. “Some circles would frown upon trusting her kind. But true to her nature or no, she is not a friend to the Cult of Sangryl’s Light and is your best bet if you would try to free the high councilman.”

Kestrel felt the fates once more tossed their runes and knew she would follow Shel into Sorrow’s Heart to free Urilith and the other captives. She glanced between her scouting partners and Shel as Belac came forward to stand next to his friend Gariane. She knew if she did not speak soon, Belac would take over the interrogation.

And after this past season, she was not naïve enough to think she did not need help to face the odds the survivors painted for her. Still, someone needed to warn the clan and Northpoint. The old woman had told them how she watched the attackers split, with the larger force heading north while the smaller group took the captives into Terijar.

She glanced once more at Belac and hoped he would approve of how she handled this. She knew the scouts would report back to the clans and she suddenly realized how much she wanted his good commendation to her great-father and mother. Kestrel’s voice was firm and clear when she spoke. “Why would you help me?”

The woman’s chuckle sounded like the quiet burble of a brook. She shrugged and said, “I knew Urilith Ta’Sarith from the time following the desolation. He and I have shared much. You would help me as much as I would you. There is more to this than we know and the need to find out is great.”

Kestrel frowned, feeling confused. This was not the reply she expected. She turned slightly, nodding as Belac came forward to stand next to her.

Impatience tinged his tone. “Our time here is limited, Kestrel. We need to let the clans know what has happened. You can’t possibly be thinking of going into Terijar with this, this bounty hunter as your guide and back up.” He paused, his glare burning into her brain, then shook his head and, with a shrug, turned away from her. “What more could you possibly do to make sure you are captured and most likely share the fate of Urilith.”

“I will counter that question with one of my own. Would you come after me if there was a chance?”

“That’s not fair Kestrel, you know it is not. Urilith is a stranger to you. You, you, and I practically grew up together. I had just been. Oh, never mind, I can...”

Shel interrupted Belac, throwing her hands up in the air, her glare piercing both of them. “Neither bickering nor courting serves a purpose here worth chasing now. Perhaps if I give you a bit of an overview, you both will see what is at stake. The waters here are my domain. Mine to watch, to guard lest contamination from Terijar makes its way to the realm of water and from there...” She paused, her expression unreadable. But when she spoke again, she spoke quietly, almost reminiscently. “When first I claimed these waters, there were no humans on this side of the Firasian’s Rift, as it was called then. The Vortryl lived in the north and the Al’far to the west. To the east, the Ten Clans grew out of the half breeds and castoff warriors of the Desolation and their companions, the Theracans. And to the south was a wilderness lived in by none but dragonkin.”

“So, where do you fit into this?” Kestrel asked, wondering just who it was they dealt with.

“I was one of those that came through from the plane of water to fight back the corruption the Ancient Sangryls’ carelessness caused. And this is when I first met Urilith Ta’Sarith. Now, just as then, there is a dangerous corruption coming out of the heart of sorrow. It fouls our streams and lakes and rivers and is spreading.” Shel’s sigh was the sound of a river’s passage in the deep of night. She looked Kestrel in the eyes. “Child, do you not see? It is all connected. Your quest to free the espiare councilman. The quest of your friends to find Ymarii’s egg, the massacre at Windy Cove, and the desecration flowing into the waters of Hebryll.”

Kestrel’s breath caught when the woman spoke of her friends and their quest. She swallowed the fear that shivered up her spine and slid down her throat. “How do you know all of this?”

“Look at me with your inner eyes, girl. You can not be without skill. I spoke to your companion at the pool, just as dawn took the sky. A Yanzul does not become the companion to a dunce.”

As Shel spoke, Kestrel allowed her senses to open up. She perceived that her fear of being found by another creature like the one she encountered in town had all but shut down those new senses she strove to hone.

Her head tilted to the side and a frown driving a wedge between her brows, she exclaimed. “You are an elemental! A water elemental!”

Shel tipped her head slightly in acknowledgment. “I know what the rain knows. The river that watched your plight as you and Marley tried to save your clan mother and fight off the academy weavers, sings of it on stormy nights.”

Kestrel grimaced at the memory of that night and clung to the familiar name of her friend. “You know Marley?”

“We have crossed paths on occasion, and of his quest, we shall speak, but he is not the one in jeopardy at this moment. If we are to help the high councilman, you must decide soon.”

“Wait a minute,” Belac snapped. “I still stand by my prediction. You and Kestrel are not enough to overcome a force large enough to overcome the folks of this town.”

Kestrel reached out to Sirrsi, her mind in turmoil as she considered her options. My friend, I hate to disturb your rest, but there is one here that claims to have spoken with you. She realized as she mind-spoke that for Shel to speak to her companion, she would have to be an elemental like Jayf.

Indeed, Shel revealed herself as I drank before resting. She told me what happened and requested our help in her quest to free Urilith.

Should I trust her, will she help us? Kestrel glanced between Shel and Belac and Gariane as she mind-spoke with her companion.

It is a decision you must make. I will say I have never heard Urilith speak adversely about Shel or her loyalty.

Kestrel puckered her lips as if she bit into a sour chokeberry. She wanted to suggest Belac come with them, but feared he would try to make her do things his way and in his time. Still, with a deep breath and a nod toward Shel, she said, “Come with us Belac, your strength and steady bow will be welcome, I am thinking.”

The scout frowned, rubbing his drawing shoulder. “What about the clan and these people here? Are we just to forget about all of them to go racing off into the mouth of death?”

Kestrel sighed. She hoped her argument was strong enough to garner his agreement. “Gariane can take word back to the clans as quickly as you can.”

She looked around, gesturing with her hand to include the people gathered there. “These are the survivors. They have already come through what the soldiers and essence-weavers of Sangryl’s Light could throw at them and they are still here. Whether you or I stay with them to comfort and help tend the wounded won’t help. We are but two, and they are capable of what either you or I can do. But we have skills that can help Shel find and if possible free those taken… Many of them these folks’ family members.”

She watched her friend chew on the words she gave him. His frown and taut jawline a clear omen of his disapproval. So before he could voice any opposition she said, “Go or stay, it matters not. I threw in my lot with Urilith when I accepted him as my mentor and accepted the yanzul he cared for until I was ready to claim her as my companion. I would have you come with us, Belac. But free the prisoners or not, the least I can do is scout out their camp and pass along the information to help others.

With a deep sigh and a slow nod, Belac agreed. “I will go with you if only to give witness, but I will try to keep you safe.” He tipped his hand to his head and turned on his heel, striding back toward the horses.

“Rest for now and meet me down by the river as the sun glazes the treetops in the evening. Let your companion know to feed well, for this is the last time she can safely fly until we leave the interior of Terijar.” The water elemental turned on her heel much as Belac had done a few moments before and headed back toward the river, leaving Kestrel and a slightly flustered Gariane staring at each other.

Although the look on Gariane’s face spoke of how much he wanted to go with Kestrel and Belac, his words were those of a clansman scout under orders. “My horse has run through the night. The way back will not be as long, but I’d be obliged if I could borrow one of the mounts we rounded up on the way in?”

“You can take mine,” the old woman’s son offered. “T’aint nothin like yours, but she’s a mite quicker than anything else we have left.”

With a nod, Gariane turned to Kestrel. “Any messages for Dondorian and Caussara?”

Kestrel searched through the small pack she carried, hoping to find her ink and a quill, but in the end, settled for using Gariane’s supplies. She soon handed the finished missive back to her friend.

“Don’t look so worried, Gariane. The idea is to pull those people out of danger, not put ourselves in harm’s way. We won’t take any unnecessary risks. Now be safe and travel well.”

Gariane grinned and nodded. “Risks like the one you took in town there?”

Kestrel reddened and protested, but the scout patted the air and winked as he headed toward the horse line. “Hopefully it is a lesson learned,” he said, not waiting for her to answer.