An Alliance of Mortals, page 25
part #6 of The New Earth Chronicles Series
“I will do what I can, Ellas,” Chao assured her. “If he agrees to help us and finds this person, I will let you know.”
“Good.”
The faerie sprang to her feet and leaped into the air to hover in front of the mage.
“We will speak again soon,” she told him. “Good luck, Chao.”
“Thank you, your majesty.”
She disappeared in a burst of sparkling energy and Chao slumped into his chair and stared up at the ceiling. It was going to be a long day.
Chapter 18
A small campfire crackled faintly as it lit up a clearing in the deep forest. The trees looming over the glade were immense and reached up over a hundred feet, their branches heavy with thick leaves that blocked out the night sky.
Staring blankly into the fire was a man. He was wearing a leather shirt, trousers and boots made of tanned animal hides. Elaborate bead work decorated his shirt, colorful designs of birds and beasts that seemed to shift and move in the firelight.
The man's hair was very long, the black mixed with veins of silver. He had twisted it into two braids that hung over his shoulders and rested on his chest. His face was darkly tanned except for a pale ragged scar that crossed the bridge of his aquiline nose. His eyes were sunken into deep sockets and hidden in shadow.
Magnus listened to the forest around him, feeling the rhythm of life and the ebb and flow of the energies that permeated the wilderness. The shaman had lived alone for many years now, surviving as his Algonquin ancestors once had. He hunted when he was hungry, although roots and berries were his main staples. When he was sick, he knew which herbs and types of tree bark to use to treat his illness. He believed in living in balance with nature and, like his ancient forefathers, he was now a nomad, never staying at one place more that a week at a time.
The deep forests of western Canada were much changed since the dragons had returned and the human race had been nearly wiped out almost two decades earlier. The trees had grown to monstrous proportions. Many of the animals had Changed into stranger versions of their former selves. Larger, more vicious, with fangs and claws that might have suited beasts living in prehistoric times. And life itself was more vigorous and more varied.
Creatures that had once lived only in fantasy stories now stalked the deep forests, or patrolled the skies overhead. Chimeras. Hippogriffs. Manticores. Magnus had even seen a small herd of unicorns at a distance once, their white coats and golden horns making him catch his breath and stare at them enraptured for a few moments before they vanished like ghosts.
Griffons and wyverns were a constant threat from above, which was the main reason that the shaman spent his nights sheltered beneath thick foliage.
Yet Magnus was happier than he had been in years. His own Change had strengthened his body and given him back his youth. His senses were more keen, his powers stronger and his skills honed to preternatural sharpness. He could feel the forest's life pulsing through him at all times and no dangerous beasts could catch him unaware. And the spirit animals that he had dreamed of knowing in his youth were now frequent companions, the veil between the mortal world and their realm having become thin and permeable. One in particular was very important to him as a shaman.
Speaking of which...
The sound of an irritated croak coming from the branches over Magnus' head now made him smile.
“Welcome back, Crow,” he said softly. “You honor me.”
A shadowy form dropped out of the foliage, flapped once and landed next to the campfire across from the shaman. It was a massive crow, larger than any eagle. Its black feathers shone in the firelight and its red eyes glowed eerily with a preternatural flame.
“As you honor your ancestors, my friend,” the bird replied, his voice harsh and cracked, but perfectly understandable.
Magnus settled himself more comfortably atop the thick blanket he was sitting on and stared curiously at the crow.
“What brings you to me this evening?” he asked it.
The bird cocked his head to one side and fixed the shaman with one red eye.
“I have a message,” he said. “From that human I told you about, the one who can summon animals and magical creatures alike.”
“Ah, Chao,” Magnus said with a nod. “Yes, of course. It is amazing to me that he can speak with you and the other spirit animals. How strange that the magic that returned to our world worked so many changes on so many people. What is his message?”
The crow pecked at the grass at his feet, apparently looking for grubs or insects. He found nothing and clicked his beak irritably.
“He has asked us for a favor,” the crow said.
“A favor?”
Magnus frowned at the bird.
“What sort of favor could he want from a wandering shaman like myself?” he wondered. “We are a long way from the British Isles. Even if I wanted to help him in some way, I doubt that I could.”
The crow croaked harshly, an odd sound that Magnus knew was the bird's way of laughing.
“Chao does not want any physical aid,” Crow told him. “He wants information. He believes that there is a new leader of the goblin armies. This leader has been trying to take control of one of the three magical anchors that have been created in the homes of the humans, the elves and the dwarves. Chao and his people want to know who this leader is and where he or she can be found.”
Magnus knew that the elves had returned to the world, thanks to his spirit animal friends. But he didn't know about the anchors, so he asked the crow for an explanation.
Once he understood what they were and how dangerous it would be for an enemy to seize one of them, Magnus silently stared into the heart of the campfire and gave Chao's request some thought.
“So, the three races want to know who this leader is because they fear more assaults on these anchors,” he muttered. “That makes sense.”
He looked across the flames at the crow.
“But you do not serve me, Crow,” he told him. “You have gifted me with your friendship, but I do not command you. Nor would I wish to. What are your thoughts?”
The crow shook himself and then smoothed his feathers, preening his wings with his long beak.
Magnus waited patiently. As intelligent and ancient as the spirit animal was, he was still a bird and followed his own nature. The shaman knew that Crow would answer in his own time.
Finally, the crow clicked his beak twice, apparently satisfied with his grooming, and caught Magnus with his red eye again.
“The goblins and this leader of theirs are fools,” he stated. “Even if they captured an anchor, the ley energy that powers it would not answer to them. Typical arrogance from the servants of Darkness. But I do think that if a powerful enemy now leads the armies of Chaos, we should know about it,” he continued. “My kind will not do battle with mortals, but we should be able to locate this creature, whoever or whatever it is.”
“Really? How?”
The crow croaked in amusement again.
“No matter where this leader is hiding, there will always be a way to find them. If they dwell in a shadowy cave, Spider will know. If they are lost in the great plains that stretch out around the world, Grasshopper will have heard of them. If they dwell in the deep jungles, Snake will have been told about them. And if they sit atop a mountain somewhere, Eagle will have spied on them. As I have said, there is nowhere that they can hide from us.”
Magnus chuckled at himself.
“Yes, of course. How foolish of me to forget that. So will you speak with the others and ask if they have knowledge of this leader?”
The crow poked the ground again and then grumbled as he found nothing.
“I will contact my brothers and sisters and ask them,” he assured Magnus. “It will take some time though. You should call the summoner and tell him to be patient.”
“I've never even spoken with him,” the shaman replied. “I have to know what a person looks like if I am to speak with them at a distance.”
“Ah. Well, look then, and remember,” the crow said.
The thin stream of smoke rising from the campfire suddenly twisted and thickened, becoming opaque. A man's face, smooth and unlined, appeared in the midst of the smoke. His Asian features and long black hair were distinctive, but it was the combination of kindness and strength in his eyes that caught Magnus' attention.
“Can you keep his features in your memory?” Crow asked impatiently.
“I can, yes. Thank you, Crow.”
The picture faded away and the smoke thinned out again.
“Good. Now I go. I will be back when I have some information for you.”
The crow leaped into the air, flapped his wings once and disappeared.
Magnus stared at the fire, his face blank of expression. He was going to contact Chao in a moment, but he allowed his memories to consume him for a moment as he tried to gather his thoughts.
He had done his best to help the young Changelings who had lived in Ottawa after it had been destroyed by the dragons, many years before. When they had all finally retreated from the city, he had made sure that they were as prepared to survive in the wilderness as anyone could be. And then he had left to seek out solitude and peace in the primordial forests of the west.
It had taken him several years to cross the vast expanse of Canada, but Magnus had been in no hurry. He'd wanted to reconnect with the land and learn how much it had changed since magical energy had returned to the world.
The shaman had seen many wonders in his travels. The trees and plants of the forests had grown to incredible proportions. The sky sparkled with a pure blue light, unseen during the years that technology had controlled the world. And the air was sweet and invigorating, nourishing the senses and the mind of Magnus like nothing he had ever known.
When he reached the plains of central Canada, more wonders were revealed to him. Massive herds moved across the open grasslands. Bison and deer roamed the land in their thousands. Wild horses led by magnificent stallions raced over the flat plains, lightening Magnus' heart and spirit. Immense flocks of ducks and geese crossed the sky, their shadows so thick that they darkened the earth beneath them. The world itself was reborn.
Herds of new beasts had appeared as well. Animals that Magnus had never seen before. Heavy cattle with long hair and wide, twisted horns. Dinosaur-like monsters with long necks and thick legs covered in feathers. And many other creatures that filled the shaman with wonder.
And along with these new herds of beasts came the predators.
Felines larger than horses, with fangs longer than daggers, stalked the plains. Drakes, similar to the ones that the old dragons used as servants, but hunting their prey alone instead of in groups.
Packs of dire wolves followed the herds, preying on the weak and the old, as wolves had done for millennia. And strange monsters that Magnus avoided as much as possible also lurked in the tall grass, waiting to pounce on the unwary.
It had taken all of the skills and wits that the shaman had to cross the plains safely. He had used his powers over nature to hide his presence as much as he could and, occasionally, had run away from the most stubborn of the predators. It had been a harrowing journey and yet Magnus had never felt more alive than he did as he crossed the grasslands.
When he'd finally reached the foothills of the Rocky Mountains, Magnus settled into a routine. He would set up camp in a sheltered clearing among the trees and spend several days exploring the area. There was no real goal in his wandering. He was simply living his life as the Algonquin shamans had for thousands of years, feeling the life energy of nature around them and flowing with it.
It was on one of these many exploratory forays into the deep forest that Magnus found a sheltered little pool of water in a deep hollow surrounded by thick undergrowth.
He stumbled upon the small glade by sheer accident, slipping through a maze of thorny bushes and young saplings. And when he had stepping into the clearing, he'd gaped at the scene that met his eyes. Sitting on a large lily pad in the center of the deep pool of clear water was a little man.
The strange creature was wearing green clothing that seemed to be made of braided grass. He wore a little cap on his head and his long, pointed ears rose up on either side of his round face.
The little man seemed unsurprised by Magnus' sudden appearance. He smiled broadly at the shaman's wide-eyed expression and raised a tiny flute to his lips and began playing a sweet tune.
The music enthralled the shaman and he stood frozen and listened joyfully as the song filled the glade.
When he was done playing his flute, the little man put it away and stood up on his lily pad. He bowed to the shaman, whipping off his cap. And then he spread his arms wide and grinned at Magnus.
“Welcome to my home, mortal,” he said in a surprisingly deep voice. “It has been many a year since one of your kind graced me with their presence. What brings you into the heart of the forest this day?”
Magnus shook his head and rubbed his eyes, unsure that he was actually seeing what he thought he was seeing.
“Er, thank you,” he replied hesitantly. “I apologize for disturbing you in your home. I had no idea that one of your kind lived here. In fact, stories passed down from my ancestors tell us that the guardians of nature had left our world many years ago.”
“Ah, you know of the Fay, do you?” the little man exclaimed as he popped his hat back on. “How wonderful! Humans forgot about us for the most part after we had retreated from this planet. Now that we have returned, many of us have grieved to see your race brought low by the forces of Chaos.”
“You have returned? All of you? That is wonderful,” Magnus replied, delighted. “My people have always revered yours. I did not know that you were called the Fay, though. I am pleased to learn that.”
“Come and join me,” the little man said as he waved the shaman forward. “It would be pleasant to have some company in my solitude.”
The shaman walked forward and sat carefully at the edge of the pool. A steady trickle of water bubbled up from beneath a large stone behind the pool and ran over the grass into the pond. The air in the glade was cool and fresh, and Magnus felt invigorated as he took a deep breath and smiled with pleasure.
“You have a lovely home,” he told his host.
The Fay sat down cross-legged on his lily pad and stared at the shaman. He appeared to be pleased at the compliment
“Do you really think so? I have tried to recreate my old refuge as best I could, but we have been gone for so long, I wasn't sure if I had captured the magic just right. But your response is reassuring. My home is meant to be a place of peace and healing and you are feeling those effects. Wonderful.”
Magnus ran his palms over the thick grass around him, sensing the vigorous energy of life beneath his hands.
“Are you safe here?” he asked the little man. “The forces of Chaos stalk the wilds now. I have managed to avoid any conflict with them, but it has been a difficult task.”
“Safe?”
The Fay jumped to his feet, making his lily pad bounce on the water and sending ripples across the surface of the pool. He raised his thin arms and looked up at the trees that sheltered his glade.
“I do not fear those curs!” he exclaimed proudly. “I am Pixinwik, defender of the queen and warrior of great renown! All servants of evil tremble in my presence.”
Magnus looked at him skeptically.
“Um, okay,” he said slowly. “Well, it is good to meet you, Master Pixinwik. My name is Magnus and I am a shaman of the Algonquin tribe. I am the last of my people, I believe, and I try to live in harmony with nature. Knowing that the world is once again home to the Fay fills me with hope, something that I have not felt for a very long time.”
The little man sat down again and chuckled. He adjusted his hat and then sighed, smiling at the shaman.
“I am glad to know that you still have some hope, my new friend,” he said softly.
This close to the Fay, Magnus noticed how very blue his eyes were. They sparkled like tiny jewels in his round face.
“My boasts were true, but those tales are from long ago,” Pixinwik continued. “My people are scattered and few in number now. We are very powerful, 'tis true, but our powers cannot stop so many. The cursed goblins reproduce at an alarming rate, and their mages and wizards are creating monsters to bolster their ranks. Trolls, ogres and even worse abominations now roam our world, killing any of my people that they stumble upon. It is a tragic homecoming for us, is it not?”
“Yes, it is. I know what it is like to be hunted by evil,” Magnus replied sadly. “The few human beings still alive on Earth are the targets of every evil thing that had been sent by the lords of Chaos to exterminate us. The evil gods cannot return to the mortal realm while any of the mortal races still live, so they seek our deaths.”
Pixinwik stared at him and tilted his head to one side as he seemed to contemplate the shaman's words.
“How our world has changed, eh?” he said. “I wonder if any of us will survive the coming tide of war?”
Magnus thought about that little creature as he stared at his campfire. It had been a long time since he had left that sheltered glade and he wondered if Pixinwik was still safely sitting on his lily pad or if he had been discovered by some servant of evil and destroyed. He could only hope that the Fay were as strong as that little creature had boasted they were.
He shook his head and pushed away those dark thoughts. Evil could only win if those who fought against it gave up and allowed it to. And he would never surrender to it. Never.
He looked deeply into the heart of the fire and recalled the image of Chao that Crow had created for him. He hummed softly and then began to chant, an ancient call for the spirits to lend him their power as he reached out to connect with the summoner.
The flames became brighter and their light was tinged with a blue aura. And in the midst of the fire, a face began to form and grow.
When it was fully formed and the shaman was staring at a life-like image of his target, he finished chanting and spoke aloud.
