I shook my head in disbelief, staggering to my feet. I stared at him, my mind reeling at what he had just told me. As I stumbled a few paces away, Mattis only watched me with his wild green eyes, not moving from where he sat.
“I couldn’t,” I gasped. “Not now. I couldn’t just leave everyone, even if it means hurting my parents. I’ll make it up to them when I get home.”
“If you get home,” Mattis corrected gently, gracefully standing.
I backed up more until I felt the rough bark of a tree against my back. I knew I was alone and defenseless, the spirits locked within me as long as I remained close to the Elven Forest. I had fled from the only ones who could protect me, yet Mattis only stopped and shook his head sadly.
“Foolish Leila,” he said. “You still have no idea why you’re even on this world.”
“I – I followed a marsh spirit,” I stammered.
Mattis laughed and shook his head, an amused grin on his lips. “I had hoped to spare you, out of thanks for what you have given me. My gratitude was true, Leila. Please remember that.”
He vanished in a whirlwind of leaves, and I was once again alone in the forest. I found myself breathing hard and staring at the toadstool circle where only moments ago I had seen my parents. Part of me regretted my decision, the part that yearned for what my life had been, when Nathan was alive and my parents had been happy. That happiness had been destroyed when Nathan was killed, and even if I did return, it could not last. I closed my eyes and turned my head away, only to feel something rush past my face and strike the tree I leaned against. Opening my eyes, I saw dozens of dark eyes staring at me.
Faerie archers, I thought. What are they doing here?
Another arrow came flying towards me, and I had to duck and roll to avoid being hit. Rising quickly to my feet, I began to run blindly through the trees. I could do nothing as the faerie followed me. I saw them, matching my pace, their long hair and delicate wings fluttering behind them. One smiled at me before he released his arrow, and I dropped to the ground as it soared over my head.
“Don’t move.”
Peering up from where I lay, I saw a figure standing over me. She held a wooden staff which she used to deflect the arrows, and her long brown hair hung loosely down her back. I could make out her small pointed ears as she moved, and her dark eyes.
“Safyra!” I gasped, relieved to have been found by an ally.
“We’re right at the border,” Safyra said as she fought. “When I say so, run for the white birch grove ahead to your right. The faerie can’t follow us there.”
I kept close to the ground as I readied myself to fly. It felt like an eternity as the elven woman stood above me, twirling her staff expertly to keep my safe. I raised my eyes and saw a few faerie were circling around to stand in front of me, and I bit my lip to keep from crying out. I wished I had Clothis’ sword at least, but I had left it with Fynn what felt like ages ago.
“Run!” Safyra barked.
I leapt to my feet like a frightened deer and dashed for the birch trees. I couldn’t hear anything around me as I focused on the white branches and green leaves until I wrapped my arms around the trunk and hugged them. Only then did I notice I wasn’t alone.
“Where did you go?” Jakob snapped, striding towards me.
I ignored the anger in his voice as I wrapped my arms around him, hugging him tightly. The former Huryl soldier tensed, and put one arm around me as I sobbed into his shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Leila,” Jakob whispered into my ear. “I had no right to accuse you.”
Releasing him from the embrace, I wiped the tears from my eyes and smiled, thinking about how close I had come to abandoning him and my other friends. I saw Cyrus, Will, Damaeon, and Fynn standing behind Jakob, each with a bemused expression on his face. Safyra materialized behind us and cleared her throat noisily to get my attention.
“Let’s go,” she said briskly.
As I followed the elven woman through the trees, I couldn’t help but reflect on the last time I had come here. Back then, Safyra wouldn’t have let Fynn and Will close to the border, let alone in the Elven Forest itself, but she didn’t say a word of protest as we walked. It was quiet and peaceful, and despite everything that had happened, I felt myself relaxing and enjoying the wilderness. It wasn’t long before we reached the escarpment and began our descent into the secondary forest that the elves called their home.
My eyes were locked on the central tree, towering over all the other vividly green boughs of the elven village. The massive tree canopied everything beneath it, and its leaves were the shimmering colours of the rainbow, sparkling in the sunlight. Safyra didn’t say a word as she led us through the streets of the village, towards the base of the tree.
Last time I had approached this tree, Jakob and I had been led inside. This time, however, the ancient elf Xair waited for us outside the opened doorway leading into the tree. He looked much as he did when we had last met, with his long white beard and bald head. He held a walking stick in front of him, on which both his hand rested, and he smiled as we approached.
“Leila,” he
said amiably. “Welcome. I trust your mission was a success?”
I nodded. “We have retrieved
the acorn.”
The old elf’s smile broadened. He peered past myself and Jakob to the others, frowning slightly as he spotted Will and Fynn.
“Prince Damaeon,” Xair said with a bow, “be welcome. Some of your people have found refuge in our village. Safyra will take you to them.”
Damaeon’s eyes lit up with joy, but he inclined his head graciously to Xair. “My thanks for treating my people with kindness in these troubled times.”
“The elves will not forget the old alliances,” Xair assured him.
“Come,” Safyra said, taking Damaeon by the elbow. Cyrus followed him after one last lingering look in my direction.
“The others will follow me,” Xair announced. “Leila, Jakob, this way.”
He paid no attention to Fynn or Will as they followed us into the bowels of the tree. Once again, we walked forward without any indication that our path was taking us deep underground until the roots of the tree appeared above our heads. Xair stopped at an intricately carved door and, without pausing to issue a word of warning, pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The room was brightly lit by candlelight, with a bed woven from tree roots in the centre. The Elven Queen lay on the cushioned bed, her long white hair faintly tinted with a rainbow of colour, like the leaves of the great tree. She had long pointed ears and pale skin, and wore a silver circlet with a deep green pendant on her brow.
“The acorn, if you please,” Xair said urgently.
Jakob removed it from his pouch and placed it into the gnarled hand of the old elf. Eagerly, he moved to the Queen’s bedside and pressed the silver acorn into the palm of her hand, closing the fingers around it. He stood back and we all waited with baited breath to see what would happen next. Fynn was prowling around the room like a caged animal, his hand crossed in front of his chest as he tried to appear disinterested. Will stood still, but stayed so close to me that I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. Jakob was at my side, and I stood next to Xair as we all waited for the return of the queen.
Slowly, her eyes opened. They were a deep purple, so dark they were nearly black, and they blinked several times before moving about the room. Xair nearly wept with joy as the Elven Queen pushed herself into a sitting position on her bed, still grasping the silver acorn in her hand. She looked at the old elf and smiled gently, cupping his cheek in her hand with motherly affection. Then, her purple eyes found mine.
“I see,” she said, her voice clear and musical. “You are the one she found.”
“Majesty,” Xair said, “may I introduce Leila, and her companions Jakob of Huryl…”
“I know the others,” the Queen interrupted as she spotted Will and Fynn. Her eyes hardened on the frightened man behind me. “Was not my warning and curse enough?”
Will nodded and bowed deeply to the Queen. She regarded him a moment longer and sighed. “You have redeemed yourself through betrayal, I see. By retrieving the acorn, the curse I placed on you has vanished, but you have brought another’s wrath on your head.”
“Can you do anything for him, Your Majesty?” I asked.
The purple eyes snapped back to me, and I found myself unable to break the gaze. She shook her head. “I cannot, but I know of another who can.”
Will looked hopeful, but before I could ask anything more, the Queen’s gaze had passed us by and was settled on Fynn. The former Woodwalker had stopped fidgeting about the room and stood locked in the Queen’s gaze. She inclined her head towards him.
“My lord,” she said pleasantly. “You have returned. I am glad to see you.”
Fynn’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Your Majesty, I have never set foot in this forest. The faerie once respected the wishes of the elves.”
“But you are no faerie, no matter how long you dwelled with them,” the Queen objected. She turned back to me.
By now, I had a million questions floating through my mind. Everything the Queen had said was cryptic and it didn’t seem to me that she would give up the answers willingly. As I stood next to the bed, the Elven Queen held out the silver acorn to me.
“Are you ready, child?” she asked quietly.
“Ready? For what?”
She smiled. “To find out why the marsh spirit chose you, out of the millions of people on your world. Are you ready to embrace your destiny?”
I started to reach for the acorn and hesitated. Something told me that once I touched the acorn, nothing would ever be the same again. My world – this new world that I had come to know and love – would be altered forever. Was I prepared to risk everything to find out why I had been brought here?
The Elven Queen smiled gently at me, waiting for my decision.