Eyeblight

EYEBLIGHT
By Richard Berrigan Jr.

Rinn Vandar and I stared grimly for a few silent, tense moments at the latest murder victim of Ellington.
His name was Percevel Ga'mont, and he was not an unsuccessful spice trader while alive. In his home office, which doubled as his storefront, Ga'mont's head was transfixed to his desk by an ornate knife. He looked as though he were trying to listen to the desk's heartbeat, and the gaping expression frozen on his face belied that he was shocked to find it did not have one.
Rinn and I are Free Wardens, the heartbeat of law in the Free Cities. Among our duties is to capture lawbreakers and bring them to trial. That part is fairly easy; it's this part, in the still of the morning when we find a destroyed life and breathe in the stale air that hasn't moved from the room since the victim's death that's hard to handle.
Rinn finally approached Ga'mont, then crouched down to inspect the corpse. He was close enough to kiss it, examining the distinctive wrapping of the knife grip.
"Looks Elvin," he said.
"I've already sent for Percevel's wife. She'll tell us if he's had any dealings with elves."
Rinn nodded. "Have you picked up any traces of mind readers?"
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "You do realize the folly in asking that, don't you?"
"Yes, but I don't have any other partners to ask."
"Oh, you're a scream. That's like asking if a swimmer can tell if other swimmers have been swimming in a lake by looking at the water. Elves are more skilled at mind reading than humans. So if an elf was here, he will probably have masked his trail. Or it could be that I simply can't detect any mind reader-signatures because no mind readers have been here."
Rinn was amused by my uncertainty. He leaned against the desk, facing me, and crossed his arms. "So there may or may not have been an elf here, is that what you're telling me?"
I knew he was going to say that. "Do you think you can do better, Rinn?"
He shrugged. "Well if it was a human, he didn't get the knife around here. He must have at least been in contact with elves. A blade this nice would only be left behind if the killer were supremely stupid or supremely arrogant. No elf would ever give a nice blade like this to a stupid man. I think its arrogance, the kind that thinks itself completely untouchable by the laws of man, the kind that has no regard for the Wardens. In other words, an elf."
I hoped he was wrong, if just for the sake of my pride, but I could feel Ga'mont's wife's feelings as she shambled down the hall towards the office.
Once again, Rinn's intuition was spot on.
Her face was puffy and red from crying all night. Her emotions were in shambles; they were like a tangled ball of rope. But when Rinn saw how heartbroken she was, his mind lit up in ways of which he wasn't even aware. His empathy for destroyed families roiled him with intense sadness and intense anger simultaneously, and only I could see the colors it gave off. Flares of red and swirls of purple - like an aurora borealis in appearance – but that's just what the colors looked like. He was volatile; it was like standing next to a volcano that erupted with intense violence but made no sound. In some ways, he seems to understand their pain better than I can. Perhaps it had something to do with how his own family was murdered when he was younger. I don't know much about it; he keeps those memories behind walls.
Percevel's wife recounted the story. An elf had come calling late the night before. The watch should have picked up anyone walking the streets after dark, but an elf knows how to evade detection. The elf was upset about a purchase he'd made from Ga'mont. There was a scuffle. She raised the hue and cry. The watch searched the city, but found no elf. I wouldn't expect them to. She had a record of sale – two pounds of pepper, sold to one Aryl Fhenslock. She remembered a strange mark over his eye.
"Mark?" Rinn asked.
"Oh, aye. Like the devils' brand. A red circle ringed 'is left eye. Jagged it was. Like a scar. Another stripe – also like a scar – divided it. From 'is forehead to 'is cheek. 'Ee was a mean lookin' sniffer, and I says to Percivel 'Ee only wants trouble, 'Ee does!" The woman's composure broke into tears again. Rinn's spirit roiled one more time. He patted her stout, strong shoulder.
"Thank you," he said softly. "We'll find the bastard."

Three hours into our hike North through the Athowin territory, we encountered our first Creedler footprint amongst the towering Kelda trees. I never thought I'd ever see one of these because I'd always thought I was a sane man who knew to stay away from Athowin. The print was about four feet across and five feet long. It was the closest I'd ever been to one, but I knew Rinn had been closer. I could see the thing in his memories: a thirty-five hand tall, two-legged dragon with spikes all down its back. Its mouth big enough to swallow a cow in two chomps, I couldn't tell why Rinn was smiling as he crouched over the footprint.
"Stoneback Creedler," he said.
"Are you sure?"
He nodded. "We're in Athowin territory now. This is where the wild beasts roam. We'll need to be careful." Hoots and calls from various birds and animals sounded all around us. The air was getting cooler the further north we went.
"I'm trying to remember everything I ever learned about Creedlers – help me out here: Flame breath, venomous teeth, armored spinal column; am I missing anything?"
"Poisonous spines."
"Poisonous spines?"
"Poisonous spines."
"Are you kidding me?"
"Why do you always ask me that when you know my thoughts?"
"I want you to lie to me."
"Okay: you're pretty and any girl would be a fool not to court with you."
"We're going to need bigger shields, I think."
"Forget the Creedlers. They're easy enough to avoid. Besides, I brought along some blast caps in case we run into trouble." Blast caps. Jek weapons. They were a remarkable race, the Jeks. They had designed special powder that could explode like a thunderclap when ignited. It could have been part of their strange magic, but who cares? Magic isn't the same thing as sorcery, so it isn't against the law. Besides, it was useful, especially against dragons. "It's the elves I'm worried about," he said.
"Why?"
"You know how well they get along with humans."
"They don't."
He looked at me.
"Of course. Much more dangerous than Stoneback Creedlers."
We forged ahead to Lorowyn, city of the Elves. I could sense a growing unease in Rinn. His mind continued to return to Percevel's wife, and then to his mother. I tried to get his mind off of it and onto his hobby, boxing. I didn't need to read his mind to know he'd been handled again the other night in an amateur match, all I needed to do was look at the bruises on his face. "So," I began, motioning to his chin. "Fight go well?" I asked.
Rinn broke from his reverie and absently touched his bruises. He chuckled in spite of himself. "Huh? Oh, yeah. Heh. I thought I'd punish my opponent's knuckles with my face."
"So it was a success?"
"Ha. Other boxers in the circuit are still having trouble understanding the Vandar approach to pugilism, but it's going to revolutionize the sport, mark my words."
"Marked," I replied. "But I won't wager any gold on it. Your boxing career won't go too far, I'm afraid."
He frowned at me. "What, you can predict the future now, too? I had a bad night, that's all. How can you be so sure I'll lose?"
I pointed to the white power stone on his necklace. "Because I know you well enough to know you won't use this." I admit, I don't know much about the heritage of the Jeks, save that they have some strange superstitions and cling to belief in an ancient god. But these power stones are connected to the Jeks somehow. They derive power from the stones; they're the only ones that can. I've seen Rinn do it before, even though I don't understand what had happened or how he did it.
He absently clutched it.
"I know you can protect yourself from harm with that. Why not use it in your matches? You'd never lose."
"You mean the way you always read the minds of opponent swordsmen?" He shook his head. "I only use it when I need it."
"An angry 230 pound sailor determined to crush your face isn't a need?"
"This stone keeps me alive, Trey. If I use it up to win a match, I'll die shortly after without a replacement, and these aren't easy to replace. It's like eating all the rations for a three month voyage on the first day. Don't distract me with that right now. We've got work to do."

The city of the elves was built into a thick stretch of forest. Towering Almalla trees had been hollowed out and turned into lavish domiciles. The branches of the trees created arched walkways connecting the trees, and these apartments seemed to stretch upwards until they were obscured from sight by a hazy fog of light. The Almalla trees are reputed to reach as tall as mountains; after walking amongst the bases of them, I began to wonder if they aren't some strange objects in the sky that grow down into the earth.
We were escorted to the palace of king Moriel by two tall, slender elves with spears. Each hallway we passed through had grandiose mirrors that would have taken ten men to move. They were everywhere, on walls, in hallways, on staircases; sometimes mirrors were across from mirrors, creating an infinite illusion of space. Vines and shrubs grew freely within the walls of the palace, but they were arranged and appeared to be trim, even though they weren't. It was as if the flora purposefully grew into decorative patterns and kept itself pruned. It has been said that the elves possess fearsome sorcery that allows them to control the growth of plants, but the elves revere nature far too much to dare turn their sorcery against it. After seeing it for myself, I think the plants cooperate with the elves.
Twin waterfalls rolled over smooth stone on either side of the throne and burbled through hand-hewn tracks in the floor. These emptied from the throne in opposite directions, sliding under the walls. Lapis lazuli double doors swung open, and a graceful figure wafted into the room, flanked by two armed honor guards. A felt cape of shimmering violet trailed behind him like the plumes of a peacock…or perhaps it was the hood of a viper. His silver hair was pulled back perfectly over his head; and a crown of interlocking gold braids rested on his skull. He settled into his seat like water filling a vessel, and he rested his chin on his propped up fist. With a look of boredom, he stared past us.
"Oh what trouble has come to my doorstep now?"
After a moment he sat up and made sharp eye contact with me, and I felt myself physically pushed back a step. "YOU –" he said. "Mind reader. Those thought-walls you have erected around yourself and your companion ensure only insults. You couldn't possibly keep me from seeing anything I wanted to see anyway –" He turned to the side, as if he were no longer permitted to look at me directly anymore. "Not that I ever would."
I bowed. "My apologies, lordship. But we'll keep the blocks up just the same. Free Warden procedure, you understand."
He signaled to one of his guards, who brought him a book to read. He fell to the pages and crossed his legs. Rinn and I exchanged glances. "I am waiting," he said, reading intently.
Rinn began. "We're looking for an elf –"
"Of course you are. Don't insult me. Who is it?"
"Aryl Fhenslock."
He dismissed us with a flip of his fingers. "I've never heard of him." He licked his finger and turned the page of his book. It must have been fascinating reading.
I spoke up. "He killed someone in the city of Ellington. One of the free cities."
"Yes, I know about the 'free cities' of man."
Rinn shrugged at me. I added, "Lord Moriel, this is the only place in the world where elves live."
"Again, you insult my intelligence as though I didn't know that."
I continued, trying to keep my temper in check. "Is there someone else we might speak to who does know Fhenslock? Perhaps a notary or census office or –"
Moriel tittered. "There is no one who has ever heard of him. We all know each other by name. If I've never heard of such an elf, than neither has any other elf."
"But we have a witness that can place him at the scene of the crime," I argued.
He looked up at me. "That changes things then, doesn't it? Forgive me, great Wardens, now that I know this I will produce the memory that I do not have." His demeanor darkened, and the atmosphere in the room took on a tint of red to match the ire on his face. "You are testing my patience."
Rinn crossed his arms. "He had a scar over his eye. Is there anyone here with a scar encircling his eye?"
At these words, Moriel became placid once more, and returned to his book. "The Eyeblights," he said.
"What?" I asked.
"The elf you are looking for is an Eyeblight. An outcast of elvin society."
"So you do know him."
"No. I do not."
"You just said you knew who the Eyeblights were."
He closed his book, set it over his lap, folded his hands over the book and looked carefully at us both. "Your lesson for the day, wardens. Eyeblights are outcasts of our society. When one is guilty of so heinous a crime, we scar him and take his eternal beauty, and then we drive him from our sight, but we are not content to merely banish him from our city. We banish him from our minds. We each purge our memories of the individual, of each glimpse of his face, each ale we shared with him, each tale he ever told us. We purge him so that our relationship with him is not only severed, it is unmade."
Rinn and I mirrored the same horrified expression.
"At one time I may well have known an Aryl Fhenslock. He may have even been a brother of mine for all I know. But if he is an Eyeblight, then I do not, nor have I ever known him."
There was a heavy pause as Rinn and I struggled to comprehend something as banishing someone from our thoughts, even our foes. Mind reading was not uncommon amongst humans, but when combined with foul sorcery, it could be put to sinister uses.
Rinn broke the silence. "Please tell us where the Eyeblights go when they're banished, and we'll be on our way."
The forest got thicker as we continued East. An unnamed territory northeast of Athowin was the alleged hiding place of the elvin Eyeblights. The terrain was mountainous; roots were like tangled systems of pipes that broke out of the earth. It slowed us down considerably. Vines reached left and right like impassible spider webs dripping with moss. I disliked having to put my saber to use cutting vines down, but Rinn had brought along his trusty machetes. He called them trusty. I called them clumsy. That's a pugilist's grasp of blades for you.
Rinn's focus was singular. He thought of Ga'mont's transfixed head once every fifteen minutes or so. He remembered Ga'mont's wife every ten minutes or so. The more difficult the terrain became, the more determined he became to find the killer and bring him to justice. He looked forward to shoving his prisoner along during the long walk back to Ellington. I didn't know how to broach the subject; he had taken it so personally. But then, he always took murder cases personally.  Not that I wasn't sad for the widow in Ellington, but I would have been comfortable declaring the mission a failure and returning home. However, Wardens didn't abandon their partners. So while his devotion was to the victim, mine was to Rinn.
As we broke into a glade, we came up against a formidable wall of foliage – trees packed so closely together that there was no way to pass through on ground. We were faced with the option of doubling back and approaching from the West or trying to climb the trees and press on through the branches. Rinn squinted at the mist and sheathed his machetes and I my saber.
"Well, what do you think?" he asked.
"Can't you read my mind?"
"We're not leaving without Fhenslock."
"I don't think we're going to have a choice," I said as we walked forward.
"No! We are no backing down."
"Rinn, I know how you feel, but we're literally looking for one leaf in an entire FOREST. It's impossible." Rinn faced forward and increased his pace a bit. "It's out of our hands, Rinn!"
"Our oath was to justice, Trey," he countered. "That means we don't stop until we've got our man in chains or have his head on a pike."
"Elves can only be found if they want to be found, Rinn. These elves can make themselves scarce whenever they want."
Rinn halted and whipped his finger into my face. "Then leave. If you don't have the commitment to this mission, you don't belong here. You go tell that widow in Ellington that her husband's death will not be avenged. But I can't do that."
I sighed. "You intend to spend the rest of your life out here, combing the woods for phantom Eyeblights?"
"I'll find him. With or without your help." He started forward again. I followed him, reaching for his shoulder.
"Rinn. Rinn!"
Wood snapped beneath our feet; the grass gave way to blackness and we both went tumbling down into a hole; then everything went black.

I awoke with my hands tied behind my back, lying on my side. I sat up, and my head shrieked in pain; strands of dead grass were stuck to my cheek. I could taste mud in my mouth. My shield and my saber were gone.
Rinn was sitting up, leaning his back against bars of thick vine that surrounded us like a cage. Past the 'bars', there were tents lined up like the ragged bivouac of a traveling militia. His hands weren't tied; his arms drooped over his knees.
"Rinn?" I asked weakly. I hadn't realized how hurt I was until I tried to speak.
"Save your strength, Trey."
"Where…are we?"
Rinn yanked a small knife out of his boot and proceeded to cut the binds from my hands. He helped me sit up. "We're in a prison."
I rubbed my skull. "A trap?"
He nodded. "Walked into it like amateurs. They took our shields," he said bitterly. A Warden's indestructible shield was his protection, his primary weapon, and the symbol of his authority. Without it, he was like a serf with a broken hand: useless.
I couldn't see any elves beyond the tents, but I had a good idea where we were. My head was too wounded to apply my mind reading and search Rinn's recent memories. He had apparently been awake for the whole thing, and judging by the grim expression that he only ever wore when he lost a boxing match, there must have been a fight. The outcome was obvious. "Well," I said after a few moments. "At least we don't have to hunt for the Eyeblights anymore. They found US."
Something caught Rinn's attention, and he moved to the other side of the 'cage'. It was hard to see from my vantage point, and I was plainly too tired to get up and move, but from what I could see, there was a little elf girl, couldn't have been older than 5 or 6, standing at the bars of the cell. She gave off a pale white glow, like an angel or a ghost. She frowned at him perplexedly. Rinn studied her for a few moments. "Hello," he said.
"Papa said you've come for him."
"Oh did he?"
"Why do you want to take him away?"
Rinn took a nervous breath and glanced back at me for help. I shook my head. "Um…well…" he stuttered.
She tipped her head and pointed at his neck. "What's that?"
Rinn held up the white power stone on his necklace. "This?"
Her eyes widened, and she lifted an identical stone on her necklace. "You have a fey stone!" Fey stone? It was only a power stone, not worth much except for powering Nopox artifacts. Of course, to the Jeks, they were the means to cast sorcery, and, as Rinn explained, they were sources of life. I suppose if the Jeks could cast sorcery with the stones, then the elves, who were much more ensorcelled people, could do the same, probably even more so.
"How did you get a fey stone?" she asked. "Syllma said only good girls get fey stones."
"Well, mine keeps me alive."
"How?"
"It's my heart. You see, its glow is my heartbeat. As long as it glows, my heart beats. If it stops glowing, my heart stops beating."
The little girl seemed to understand this.
"Where did you get your p—er, fey stone?"
She became downcast. "From Syllma."
"Who is that?"
"She was my friend."
"Was?"
She nodded. Rinn understood.
"I'm so sorry. What happened to her?"
Still staring at the ground, she glumly answered: "She died…" She rubbed her sandal in the dirt as if squishing a bug. "Papa…papa killed her…he said…" She trailed off. Rinn nodded and reached through the bars, lifting her chin gently with his finger.
"What's your name?"
"Kllyna."
"You're very sad about your friend, aren't you Kllyna?"
She nodded.
"Well somewhere, a nice old woman is just as sad as you are because your papa took away her best friend too. It's not right what he did, and I've come to –" He paused, weighing his words. "To make him apologize for what he did."
Her eyes widened. "Papa?...say he's sorry? Can you do that?"
Rinn smiled and nodded. "Yes, I can."
"Papa is mean. He's scary when he's mad."
"He doesn't scare ME, Kllyna. If you can just let me out of this cage –"
"Kllyna! Get away from there!" a voice boomed.
Kllyna scampered from the cage as an elf, an Eyeblight with rugged animal skin trousers and a leather vest around his bare, lean chest approached the cage. His hair was short cropped. The circle scar around his eye was exactly as the widow had described – it was the exact same scar that the other two elves with him also had. One of them carried one of our golden shields.  Eyeblights had the same scar, just as Moriel had explained. Their eyes were blighted, and they themselves were blights in the eyes of other elves. Kllyna took refuge behind one of the nearby tents; the elf watched her, his disapproving eyes followed her. Then he trained his stare on Rinn, but Rinn did not shrink.
"Aryl Fhenslock," Rinn said.
Fhenslock perked an eyebrow. I could see him search Rinn's thoughts. "Rinn Vandar," he said.
"The same."
One of the others handed a Warden shield to Fhenslock, who inspected it. "I once encountered a man – nine hundred years ago, it must have been – he had a shield much like this one. An indestructible shield…" His voice was a mix of awe and displeasure. He flicked it away. "It was a symbol of human arrogance then, and it is even more so now. Wardens? I recognize no human authority. The only authority men have is that which we have allowed you to have."
"If you hate humans so much, then why did you go to Ellington? It isn't even a wealthy town."
Fhenslock snarled. "I owe you no explanations."
"Or is the pressure of living on your own out here in the harsh wilderness finally getting to you Eyeblights? You can't get commodities like pepper from Lorowyn, so you have to humble yourself and go to humans for it, am I right?"
Fhenslock drew a blade – the apparent sibling to the weapon that killed Ga'mont – and flashed it menacingly; his face red and strained. "Don't presume to read my mind, Warden! You know nothing of me or my kind. If you tried it would squish your puny human brain."
"How pathetic. I would be embarrassed if I were you, Fhenslock. Once a great elf, now exiled for his childish temper, forced to deal with humans to get by – and now you've just pulled a knife on me as though it might frighten me – when I'm protected from you by this cage. Flash your knife all you want, Fhenslock. It won't work on me like it did on Ga'mont."
Fhenslock lunged at the bars and shook them; the cord-like sinews in his arms and neck tightened. "I've been alive for over two thousand years! I owned 300 humans at the height of the Rhyvlan dynasty. The whole lot of them weren't even worth a good HORSE. That value has not changed. Just because the infernal dwarves split the kingdom and granted you liberties, now you think you own the whole damned planet – well you don't. You have always been and will forever be an inferior species. Your pitiful little life spans are the blink of an eye to an elf. And now you have come to accuse me of breaking a law when I righted myself against that pot-bellied goat who would make off-hand remarks at me? How dare you? I should kill you for even suggesting it."
Rinn smiled and stepped back from the bars, beckoning him with a flick of his fingers. "Yes, I rather like that idea. Why don't you come in here and do that?"
"Don't box him," I muttered to myself. "Don't box him."
Fhenslock squinted at Rinn for a moment. Having regained his composure, he stepped back from the bars and sheathed his blade. "You wouldn't stand a chance against me."
"You won't know that until I try. Come on, Fhenslock! You said yourself you want to kill me. Let's make a sport of it! If you win, I am at your mercy. If I win, you return with me to Ellington and stand trial for your crime."
"Ha! Said the cattle to his master. You are in the position to bargain, are you? You will die by my hand, sure enough. But you will die on your knees, hands bound, after we've tortured you to my content." He and his subordinates wheeled and strode off.
Rinn slugged the bars in frustration and slumped down in the dirt, his back against the bars. "Damnation," he growled.
"That wasn't smart, Rinn." I spoke softly, for it hurt to speak. "The only way to appeal to one with such enormous pride is to ply humility, like we did with Moriel."
"I thought I could lure him into a brawl."
"Fhenslock isn't stupid. He would never put himself in a situation where he was at his enemy's mercy. That's how he's managed to become the apparent leader of this band of criminals."
He sighed. "I'm sorry, Trey."
"You're only human."
We sat in silence for a time, and I wondered what would become of us. Fhenslock's men would surely put us to the sword. What awaited me after death? I knew the Jeks believed in the ancient One, the God – Ohm. As my mind reading slowly returned, I could hear his thoughts. Rinn was deep in prayer, praying for deliverance, and also asking for forgiveness of his sins in the case that he wasn't delivered, so he would at least be offered Ohm's right hand when he was judged. My father had fought in the war, not just against the corrupt kings, but against the old ideas that kept men shackled to fear and darkness. I knew better than to believe in an idea like God, or to trust sorcery. But at the moment, seeing Rinn pray to God made sense.
We were brought out of our reflections by a faint 'Psst! Psst!' Rinn pulled his back away from the bars and turned around. Kllyna had Rinn's gear and his shield. She said nothing, but slid them through the bars. Rinn smiled and accepted the boon. "Thank you," he said. Without smiling or speaking, she turned and ran away before someone saw her.
"Thank Ohm," he said to himself as he took a quick inventory. He looked to me. "Can you walk?"
I nodded and leaned forward. It hurt, but I would put up with any measure of pain to survive. "Lead the way, Rinn," I grunted.

Cutting through the wooden bars wasn't too difficult once Rinn had his machetes. We sneaked to the edge of camp and kept to the bushes. I did my best to cloak our thoughts.
"Let's find my shield and get out of here," I whispered.
"We need to pick up one other thing before we go."
"No! Forget Fhenslock. We need to get back to Ellington. Get a few more Wardens, maybe the guard – I don't know. We can't take on a whole band of elves by ourselves."
"It won't be long until they see we're missing, Trey. We can't elude ELVES in a FOREST. That's like trying to out-swim a shark in the ocean. Our best chance is to take him by surprise."
The ground jumped.
We stared at each other for a moment, wondering if we'd really just felt that. It happened again. We crouched low in the bushes, trying to steady ourselves. From one of the lookout perches in the trees, an elf with a bow cupped his hand to his mouth and cried: "CREEDLERRRR!"
Elves swarmed out of their tents in seconds, armed with bows and pikes. There were at least twenty Eyeblights in the camp, but they all seemed to have wives –or mistresses – along with children who all scattered.
Through the trees on the opposite end of the camp, the Stoneback Creedler crashed through the trees, rendering ancient boughs to splinters. The ground jumped with each step it took. The elves loosed all their arrows at the monster, but they might as well have been throwing pebbles at it. The bolts splintered like the trees under the monster's terrible feet. It seemed even taller than I had seen in Rinn's memories. Large calcified spines grew from its nose and head and all down its back. Some of them were the like stalagmites in size, especially the one on its nose. The creature's head was larger than a man's body, and its beady, hungry eyes darted about behind bony ridges.
It whipped its tail around – a tail like a cedar – and leveled a swath of tents. Women screamed; bodies were left amongst the rubble. "Ohm, no!" Rinn started forward, but I held him down.
"Don't," I warned. "You can't do anything against that!"
The monster roared as ten of the men gathered around it and fired arrows at its face and chest. The arrows did little save irritate the beast. It opened its mouth and spewed a column of fire with a hissing sound from its throat. The elves tried to scatter, and one or two of them did manage to dive clear. But at least eight of them were incinerated; their wooden shields were useless. They all stumbled about like panicked torches, screaming in agony. The Creedler made meals of them. Two chomps, that's all it took to devour an elf whole. The sight of it turned me cold.
From a tree, Fhenslock swung on a vine and straddled its neck, sliding his body between its massive spines. Though the monster tried to buck him off, he held fast. With a roar, he plunged his knife into the monster's eye. This caused the creature to buck and belch flame at anything and everything: tents, the forest canopy, other elves trying to escape. The monster flicked its head, hurling Fhenslock through the air. The elf crashed into the trunk of a maple, splintering the wood a bit. He hit with a broken cry and slumped to the ground. I winced.
A scream caught our attention. The monster, still disoriented from its wound, had gotten a fix on a girl who was too terrified to run. "No!" Fhenslock cried, trying to crawl back into the fray.
The girl was his daughter.
"Kllyna!" Rinn shouted and bounded from his hiding place faster than I could react. He ran full-tilt and skidded to a halt, putting himself between the monster and its victim.  Rinn pulled the girl close to his chest and raised his shield as the monster blasted them with flame. The indestructible shield lived up to its name, parting the stream of fire so that a cone of grass and earth was charred all around them. The shield burned on his arm, but he didn't give an inch of ground.
When the monster stepped back to inhale and inspect its handiwork, Rinn hurled the whimpering child away. "Go, Kllyna! Run for the trees!"
It only took the monster a few moments to realize that its meal had not been charred to a crisp. This may have startled it; who could read the mind of a dragon? Rinn had time only to look back at the monster before he disappeared in its jaws.
I screamed and staggered forward, falling to one knee. The shock of watching his legs kick as the monster tipped its head back and chomped twice more before swallowing him was enough to fill me with such grief that I stumbled from my hiding place. Without a weapon, I haven't a clue what I might have done.
But then the flesh of its belly bulged and ruptured, leaking blood and fluids. The monster bellowed in pain and stumbled back once. Again its chest and belly bulged grotesquely twice more in rapid succession; I heard muted pops, like champagne corks blowing in another room. The dragon collapsed to the ground, its fearsome roar reduced to a pathetic gurgle. Blood gushed from between its teeth, and its beady eye glazed over. It ceased breathing.
I cautiously ventured closer. From the Creedler's side, one of Rinn's machetes pierced the skin and sliced a long diagonal track. Then another blade pierced and cut a track that crossed the first. Rinn pushed through the beast's side, covered in putrid substances: blood, bile, reeking of smoke and looking none too pleased. He coughed and flicked the slime from his arms. “That. Was disgusting.”
"Rinn!" I cried as I ran to his side. I had to keep my distance, for his smell was enough to make a man wretch. He cursed and flicked his arms again. "How did you -?"
"Blast caps," he answered. "Damned beast smells so bad it could gag a maggot."
"You used your powers to protect yourself then?" Bless that infernal Jek sorcery.
"Only use it when I need it," he said. Rinn took hold of his stone and examined it. It was just a piece of plain rock now. The white glow had faded. His eyes betrayed his fear. I didn't need to read his mind to know what was bothering him.
"How long?"
"Two, maybe three hours."
"It'll take seven to get back to Ellington. Is there any way to restore it?"
He shook his head; I could sense his mortal fear growing. He had completely used up his stone. 
"You're alive!" Kllyna cried, running up to us. She too kept her distance when she smelled the dead beast all over him.
"Not for long, I'm afraid," he said softly.
Seeing the dull stone, she shook her head vehemently and took her necklace off, offering it to him. Rinn just looked at me, and behind the film of gunk on his face, I could see his eyes turning red. "Kllyna. That's your memento."
"You saved me. An elf always returns a life for a life. Mama taught me that, so you can have MY heart."
Rinn knelt down and tenderly accepted the gift. "Thank you." Rinn clutched it in his fist and closed his eyes for a moment. A white glow came from his closed fist, and a smile split his lips. Then he put the stone around his neck. Kllyna shared a long, trusting smile with Rinn. However I had to interrupt him with a hand to his shoulder because some twelve yards away, Fhenslock was crawling on his belly.
We approached him, and he made no effort to try to escape from us or draw a weapon or even posture. With a deep crease in his brow, Rinn watched Fhenslock crawl, blood trailing from his lips and a pained grimace on his face. Fhenslock sneered.
"Kllyna's safe," Rinn said.
Fhenslock nodded, too proud to say thank you. "That shield…is as…powerful as I remember…" he grunted.
"He won't make it back to Ellington," I said.
Rinn nodded. "I know."
Kllyna sneaked up and stood behind my leg, probably because Rinn was too smelly to hide behind. She watched her father with detached curiosity. I think, in that moment, Fhenslock knew remorse for the first time. His mental defenses were down, and I could see his past, full of pride and rage; he had been banished for killing Kllyna's mother just three years ago. Ever since losing his position, he'd lashed out at everything, including Kllyna. She wasn't glad to see him die, but was – relieved. 
"What…what of Kllyna?" he asked.
Rinn looked down at her; she looked up at him. Rinn took her little hand in his. "I know a kind old widow in Ellington who might take good care of her."
Fhenslock frowned.
"You won't live to stand trial for your crimes, Fhenslock. But I want you to know that the 'cattle' you so despised has a greater capacity for love than you do. It will be they who care for your own. I suppose that's punishment enough."
Fhenslock grunted and pushed himself up, plopping his back against the tree. He coughed up a wad of blood, then let his head loll against the tree trunk. "Well met, Warden," he grunted. "Mayhap it's fitting that my kind pass on…the world is too corrupt to return to the pure ways of the past…the days when elves ruled the world…when the GOD still spoke to his people…Surely you agree, don't you, JEK?"
Rinn's eyes narrowed. "Come along, Kllyna," he said as he led her away. "Let's see if King Moriel won't blight him from your mind."
As it turned out, Moriel was happy to oblige.

End