ii
"That was insane." Tamara noted to Massayla as she followed her friend
from branch to branch, shying away from one to go around the opposite side of the
tree.
"I know. I was lost." Massayla agreed, moving to follow her friend.
There was a rushing sound behind them.
Tamara and Massayla stopped as one, the huge branch they stood on not
even affected by the weight, "What was that?" Tamara breathed.
Massayla shook her head, turning slowly before walking quickly back
down the branch and glancing around the tree as best she could, gesturing for Tamara to
join her.
"I think it's Sorrom." Massayla whispered after a moment, sliding down
the trunk of the tree to a squatting position. Tamara sat full-out, one leg semi-over each
side of the branch. The pair stared at each other in confusion.
When Sorrom fell between them, they both tried to jump away, hands
moving to their weapons, calling out their surprise.
They fell silent, of course, when Sorrom pressed his hands to both their
mouths, giving them angered looks, "Hush, you fools." he snapped, "There are men
scouring the woods for you. Very few of us can skim, though, so you're lucky in that, but
they have ears."
"What?" Tamara demanded blankly, pulling away from his hand, but
keeping her voice low.
He looked at her a moment with stricken eyes before turning to Massayla,
removing his hand but not speaking as he stared at her.
"Crayolta." Tamara muttered finally, a few things clicking in her mind as
she looked past the elf to her companion.
Massayla licked her lips, then nodded her agreement.
"He would enslave you if he could." Sorrom added quietly, looking down
to his wrists, clenching his hands, "And he wants to," he looked from Tamara to Massayla,
"Believe me, he wants to. He hasn't had a mid-forest elf since I was taken."
"What are you talking about?" Massayla demanded quietly.
He looked away from her eyes and shook his head.
"So what do we do now?" Tamara pressed, wanting to question this elf as
much as Massayla, but more bothered by the fact that the forest god was having them
followed.
"Run." Sorrom replied shortly, "Don't go back to your home. He wants
Crayolta as badly as he wants the pair of you."
Massayla stood, looking around, back toward the deep, "We should stay
together." she commented.
"We should." Tamara muttered, rising as well.
Sorrom remained in his squatting position.
"Meet me at the rock." Massayla instructed, turning and darting into the
trees.
"The rock?" Sorrom asked, confused.
Tamara pursed her lips as she looked at him, then shook her head, "Why
aren't you free?"
"Chains bind me." he replied, letting his question drop, "And only Pan has
the key."
Tamara glanced around, hearing more noise in the distance, then nodded
at him, "And where does he keep it?"
"Under the dais in his personal quarters." Sorrom was fighting the rising
hope in his chest.
"Fine." Tamara returned, turning to the tree opposite them. She
disappeared.
"Be careful, elfling." he muttered after her, turning and focusing on the
direction Massayla had taken, wondering where 'the rock' was, and why they'd left in
opposite directions of one another.
'Sorrom.' Pan's voice sounded in his head.
"I'm coming." he muttered verbally, standing and looking around again, "I
haven't found them."
Massayla caught her breath as Sorrom explained where the keys were
kept, turning and starting silently away even further. She'd stopped within hearing of her
friend, not wanting to leave her in a dangerous situation. She could now go, and go fast,
but she was torn.
It wasn't a decision when she started back toward Pan's camp, it wasn't
even a thought.
And it wasn't until she reached the edge of the clearing, seeing the god
pacing across the now barren dais that she realized what she was doing.
The sylphs–she'd passed many of them, were all muttering together
about the sudden end of their party. The dryads were talking to their trees. None noticed
her.
There were a few people near the low-burnt bonfire as well.
Slaves.
The thought gave Massayla a shudder, and she wondered how close she'd
come to being part of this party. She didn't let it distract her, however, instead, she moved
through the trees to the lake's edge. She stood there only a moment before taking a deep
breath and diving into the clear waters. She was sincerely hoping that none of Pan's slaves
spotted her.
"Sorrom, where are they?" Pan's voice was still firm and
demanding as it reached her ears through the water.
She moved a bit closer to the bank, startled that this lake did not gradually
meet the shoreline, but was a complete drop-off.
"I do not know, My Lord." Sorrom's voice held disgust and
hatred.
Massayla nearly took a breath, rising closer to the surface, hoping the land
was high enough. She actually surfaced, though only with her face, taking a deep breath
and letting it out. Catching her own air again, she dived.
"You are an elf, why can you not find them?" Pan's tone held more
than disbelief.
"Because, My Lord, I have not been near my kind in more than a
hundred years, I haven't been allowed to go near them, so I haven't been able to
practice my skills."
Massayla started at the sound of body mass hitting water, turning to see
Sorrom staring at her in mild horror a moment before glancing up to the shore again. He
didn't speak as he swam up to her and forced her head above the water level.
She wanted to cry, to be angry with him, but she knew that if he truly
were a slave, then he'd do anything to please his master, to be rewarded…
He shoved her under again.
"You will find them, Sorrom." Pan's voice was
firm–and just above their heads.
Massayla froze.
"I can not find them, they heard our approach and headed back into
the deep. They said before that they had no quarrels with the elves of the
deep…"
"Why would they run to begin with?" Pan sounded
outraged.
Sorrom let her up for air again as he spoke, "They heard that they were
being stalked. You know as well as I do that Crayolta not only warns them against you,
but against sheer-flight when in danger. These two were unskilled girls taking a
walk in the forest when I found them." he shoved her head under again.
Massayla wasn't certain as to what was going on.
"Get out of the water, you fool." Pan now sounded simply
exasperated.
Sorrom shoved at Massayla, sending her a foot or so in the direction of
the dais, then scrambled up the bank.
Massayla moved on.
Tamara shivered at the cold wind coming from the lake now. She'd
reached the rock Massayla had been referring to, and was now waiting for her friend's
arrival. Having not been followed, she had no fear that Massayla had been followed. She
could hear Pan's voice echoing over the water, and as grateful for the cover of bushes that
lay along the lake's edge.
"Dawn is coming!" Pan's voice echoed around her, off the
cliff-face behind her.
Tamara blinked.
"If you'd let me out in the day!" Sorrom's voice only implied that
he wanted to do his master's bidding.
Tamara shivered again.
"Tamara?"
Tamara jumped, looking around. It took her a moment to spot Massayla's
head, sticking out of the lake's surface.
"What are you doing?" Tamara hissed, knowing that their voices would
echo off the rocks much like Pan's and Sorrom's were.
"Help me out. I've got the key."
Tamara darted through the two bushes and offered her friend a hand,
dragging her out. She couldn't believe how much weight the other elf had given her to
pull.
"I can barely move." Massayla added, dropping heavily onto the dirt,
breathing heavily.
"You have the key?" Tamara pressed, glancing nervously at the bushes
before lifting and dragging her friend along to the cave beneath the large jutting rock.
There were several paths from the cave through the rock itself, and the pair had been
shown this by an elf of the deep named Resone. The elf they'd been going to visit. He'd
been trying to impress them with it.
Tamara had never been so grateful for his showing off in the past.
"Yes." Massayla muttered, curling into a ball against the cave wall.
"How?"
"Sorrom is arguing with him." Massayla muttered, "And won't let him
change focus. He's very angry."
'If you don't want his attention, don't say his name. You may note that
I never say his name.'
"How are we going to get to him?" Tamara demanded, "The
others?"
"I was stuck there for a while. More than half of them are perfectly
content to be in his service." Massayla shook her dripping head.
Tamara made a noise in the back of her throat, casting around hopelessly
for a towel. It was always coldest just before dawn, after all.
When she found nothing, she gave in and pulled off her over-jacket,
pulling off her undershirt a moment later and tossing it to her friend.
Massayla accepted it gratefully, forcing herself into a sitting position and
starting to change out of her own outer jacket as Tamara re-dawned her own.
"I have to sleep." Massayla added, ringing out her undershirt and using it
to sop up some excess water from her hair, "I used up nearly all my energy swimming
through that damned lake."
Tamara nodded, "We can figure out what we're doing tomorrow."
Dawn was cold.
Sorrom stared off over the lake, wondering if Massayla had gotten the
key or not. If she hadn't–if she were still in that room, then all things were damned.
He hadn't seen her leave, but he had to hope for something.
He'd been a slave for far too long. He'd been a sheep before that, it had
been his own will to follow his brothers after a long night of fighting. He'd known they
should have slept for the next days battles, but he'd joined the others.
He was one of ten, the others had died.
It hadn't taken him long to realize that Pan had some sort of issue with
Crayolta, and after the long hundred years of bondage, he knew the entire story.
Like Massayla and Tamara, Crayolta had been wandering with a friend
into the deep. Pan had summoned them to a party. She'd left, however, scared of all that
had happened. Pan had kept her friend, but he had died. Pan had become obsessed with
the middle-forest elf queen, however, before she'd even been named a contender for the
crown. He'd hunted her down several times in the forest, only to be rebuked by her.
Now she had the middle-forest elves rebuking their god.
If Pan found Crayolta's lair, the entire forest would feel his wrath.
Sorrom licked his lips, glancing to his right as a poor human came into the
clearing. He was wan and very tired looking. He moved to Sorrom, saluting, "No clues
of them, Lord Elf." he muttered respectfully.
Sorrom nodded, dismissing him.
The man wandered off.
A hundred and twenty years was a long amount of time. It had taken
Sorrom twenty before he'd won respect in the ranks of these fallen fools. Not that he
hadn't simply had respect for being an elf. Many of these slaves were human. Like
himself, however, there were a few odd creatures that had taken the wrong path,
figuratively and literally.
Sorrom shivered, wondering if Massayla would be cold after being in the
water. He should have left out a blanket or a towel…if she'd made it out of Pan's
quarters…
The morning sun rose higher in the sky, and Tamara allowed herself to
relax some as the warm sun washed over her. The few hours that had been coldest were
passed now, and the summer heat would soon start to beat down on them.
Having gone over everything Crayolta had taught her, she was trying to
figure out how to get out of this situation. Her elf's ears had picked up the sound of
search parties half way around the lake, and by night-fall, when Pan would no doubt wake,
they'd have made it to the far side. The cave's exits did them no good if Massayla was too
tired to move, and she hadn't stirred once.
Not to mention being hungry.
Tamara's stomach had caught up with her when she'd been reassured of
Massayla's safety. Her body yearned to be back at Pan's table, eating his excellent
cuisine.
She rubbed her eyes, then rubbed her temples. She herself needed to
sleep, but the cave was cold as yet, and her body was already enough drained without
starting to shut down from cold. She knew Massayla would be cold as well, but Massayla
would also be sleeping heavily.
She was glad that there was a hole in the back wall of the cave, meaning
the morning sun was streaming into the cave, which would dry out the wet clothing her
friend had been wearing.
Tamara sighed, moving to the lake's edge and searching for any minute
clue to their presence. Before dawn, she'd swept the marks away, but she knew how easy
it was to overlook a solitary blade of grass that could tell the whole story to an
experienced tracker.
It didn't take her long, however. She'd been thorough. She brushed the
remaining tracks from the cave-front and situated the brush to cover the exit again before
crawling through the slight cool of the cave, studying Massayla a long moment before
dropping herself onto the floor–and falling heavily asleep.
Pan sighed, staring over the wide lake. The sun had only set a short while
before, and he'd woken with the expectation that the elf girls would be back, or maybe
Crayolta's lair would be found.
He tossed the tangerine he was holding at the lake, growling in irritation
before turning back to his gathered slaves, "You had all night!" he shouted at
them, "All night!"
"Elves are a tricky sort," Eret, one of the water sylphs–male water
sylphs, muttered, turning and focusing on Sorrom, "We've always known that, My
Lord."
Pan focused on Sorrom as well, who simply turned his eyes back to the
god, "You know as well as I that Crayolta has been training them against us…"
"Crayolta is a fool!" Pan shouted indignantly, "A worthless fool!"
"Who has outwitted you every time you've come up against her," Sorrom
agreed. Being the only elf, he was assured that the god would not kill him, "And now has
her children outwitting you."
Pan's turquoise eyes looked rather red as he studied the lower-wood elf.
His own thought process, however, had followed Sorrom's. "You will find them, Sorrom,
or I will kill you."
Sorrom touched his fist to his chest in a sign of obedience, bowing, "As
you wish."
He did not need to be told to start his search.
Massayla woke slowly, blinking in the dark of her room in
confusion–until she realized she wasn't in her room. She sat up, taking a
sharp breath before spotting Tamara laying against the far wall of a dark cave. She was
irritated that her mind was taking time to catch up to her…and sitting on something
painful.
Shifting made just enough noise to wake Tamara, and the key in her
hand…brought it all back.
"Tamara…" she whispered, looking around and spotting her own
undershirt and jacket, "Tamara, what are we going to do now?"
"We're going to go home." Tamara muttered, "And tell Crayolta."
"We can't go home and tell Crayolta, that means we have to re-cross the
deep."
"If we skim around…" Tamara paused a long moment and sighed.
"We have to get Sorrom…and the others." Massayla muttered, crawling
over to her clothing and lifting it, grateful it was dry.
"Do you suppose anyone is searching for us?" Tamara asked, digging out
the flare-grass they had always been taught to burn in case of emergency, "Do you think
they will come?"
"If we light that," Massayla muttered, digging out her own still-damp
mound, "Then we have to wait by it." she frowned at her friend, "And there is no way any
search parties would miss the smoke."
"Even at night." Tamara sighed heavily, rubbing her temples.
"We need to worry about saving Sorrom," Massayla muttered, "Not
about being saved."
Tamara nodded, crawling toward the exit of the cave, "Then let's get on
with it."
Sorrom stopped, hearing the noise around them again, looking in the
direction opposite.
He knew, he really knew that the elves were there, behind him. Both of
them, which meant that Massayla had the key to his freedom.
"My Lord Elf?"
Sorrom focused on Druen, one of the two male sylphs that Pan had
captured, then on Eret, the second male sylph. Both were frowning at him in
confusion.
"Do you sense them, M'lord?" Eret asked.
Sorrom took a deep breath and blocked Pan's mental ties with all three of
them, "Would you like to be free?" he asked quietly.
"Free?" Druen asked sharply, then shook his head, "My Lord, I serve
Pan."
"I have the means at hand to free all three of us." Sorrom muttered
quietly, wondering how long it would take Pan to notice, "If you trust me and tell me
now."
Eret and Druen glanced at one another uncertainly–and nodded
slowly.
"Fine." Sorrom muttered, "Quickly, Massayla." he added.
The elf dropped from the tree, Tamara an instant behind her, racing up to
him.
Pan noticed the block.
'Sorrom?' Pan's voice sounded in his head, 'Druen,
Eret?'
There was a long pause as Massayla turned the key in the lock that
Sorrom could only see from knowledge, from how long he'd stared at his bindings…
"No!" Pan's voice suddenly echoed above everything,
shaking the very ground in it's anger, a further roar building in the background.
"Quickly, free us!" Eret said almost desperately.
Massayla finally found the bolt, freeing Druen.
"5Massayla!" Pan's voice was outraged, "I can smell
you, Elf!"
"I'm going to die…" Eret breathed, his eyes going distant.
Massayla turned the key in the lock on Eret's hands.
Druen, however, was starting to glow a vague blue color.
"Tamara, get close!" Sorrom snarled, pulling the girl to his side as
Massayla threw the sets of chains into the lake.
Eret tossed her against her friend, meeting eyes with Druen a brief
moment before the blue color engulfed him as well, crawling along his skin as if he'd been
painted.
"Quickly, quickly…" Sorrom muttered distractedly, staring in the
direction of the camp.
"You will all die!"
A blue ball surrounded the five of them as a bolt of white-hot light flared
and slammed against it.
Druen and Eret cringed, the blue started moving faster–another bolt
of white shot at them.
"He'll kill them." Massayla hissed, looking to Tamara.
Tamara nodded, digging into her pocket and pulling out her flair.
"You've angered a god!" Sorrom snapped as she set it on the ground,
"What will your meddlesome kin do against a god?"
"I am not calling my kin." Tamara snarled back, freeing a different
colored wad from the lot, "My kin can not help…but the elves of the deep…"
"They'll kill me!" Sorrom almost sounded scared.
Tamara met his eyes, glaring at him…and struck the flint to the steel. It
took only a fraction of a second for the material to start to burn–a plume of dark
grey smoke rose languidly into the air.
"We call our friends," Massayla muttered, "And they do as we ask."
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