Ravs Are Rarely Wrong: The Kinowenn Chronicles Vol III Read online

  “That’s a disconcerting thought. What does a Rav want with Lucy?” asked Taran.

  “I said they live long, not forever. I assume they look for others to recruit. I would guess that they seek young children with strong sparks of magic. Then, they can teach them easily and quickly. A child that does not know it can do magic is often a fast and eager learner. Lucy is powerful. Anyone with magic should be able to sense that. I’m sure her skills and strength appealed to him,” said Fallon.

  “Then, why did he claim he was waiting for me? How did he know I would be there?” asked Lucy.

  “He might have sensed you coming through the mountains, even with your shields, and moved to intercept you. Or, they may have a seer or an oracle among them. It would make finding recruits easier. I don’t know all the types of magic they can wield.”

  “He said I was his. What does that mean? Do I have a choice? Do I need to learn from him to defeat the Shadow Weaver?” asked Lucy. She wasn’t sure if the answers were making her feel better or worse.

  “You always have a choice. None of the choices you have may be to your liking, but you have them. I do not know if you need his knowledge to defeat this Shadow Weaver. It gives me hope to know that the Ravs are aware of the situation and working against them. It bothers me a little that he claims he needs you. It could be wishful thinking on his part though,” Fallon smiled knowingly. “I’m sure he was surprised when you brushed off his charm so easily. They are known for their ability to entice.”

  Lucy blushed. Justin gave her an appraising look.

  “If we defeat this Shadow Weaver, and you want to continue pursuing the destruction of evil, you will end up working with the Ravs at some point,” added Fallon.

  “Are they good or bad?” asked Gavin. “I mean, it sounds like they are against the Shadow Weavers, which is good, but they still sound kind of shady to me.”

  Fallon smiled, “You are correct. They tend to live in a gray area. Some people say that the methods they use and the magic they have uncovered makes them little better than the evil they fight against.”

  “I still don’t like that he wants Lucy,” maintained Justin.

  “Of course you don’t,” Fallon laughed. “What I do like about this is that if we need to contact the Ravs as the situation develops, we already have a liaison and a potential meeting place.”

  Justin’s mood did not improve at that thought. Taran tried to sidetrack the conversation.

  “You mentioned ancient artifacts. Do you know what the Ravs might have? How effective are they? Also, what happened to Glendivora’s quiver, Hurstlor’s ax, Aclovar’s mace, and Mastamar’s horn? Have the races kept them safe? If they are lost, are they worth hunting down?” asked Taran.

  “Lucy had questions about them as well,” added Justin. “Were the weapons as great as the myths imply? Was it the people or the spells that made them unique? Were the spells temporary or permanent?”

  “Those are excellent questions with many possible answers,” responded Fallon. “Islar was a mighty Dwarven smith. When she forged magic to metal, it was forever. Every successful confrontation served to enhance both her spells and the weapon. The bears still have the battle helm that repels dark magic. It is stronger now than when it was forged. If they join us in battle, they will bring it with them. I assume the Dwarves still have the mace, but they are secretive. They may have hidden it. I do not know where the Horn of Mastamar is or if the spell on it was temporary or not. I do not think the Giants would give up or misplace Hurstlor’s ax. They value well-made weapons, often passing them down from father to son, mother to daughter. However, the spell on the ax was temporary. It was spelled for a specific battle, after it was forged rather than during the forging. It may have some magic left, but I could not say how much. It could be spelled again. Hurstlor’s might was mostly his own. He was charismatic, strong, and a great leader. He was able to unite the fractured Giant tribes. That is something that takes more than a mighty ax. In some battles, charisma can mean more than magic weapons. Glendivora’s quiver we have in a place of honor where the council meets. It is still full of arrows.”

  “Then those weapons can help us again,” said Gavin with hope. He liked the idea of having a magical arsenal on their side. He was also hoping to get a chance to try one of the magical weapons.

  “They may aid us. However, old weapons sometimes come with old problems. We cannot rely on solutions to past problems to solve all our current ones. Now is a time for new heroes, new weapons, and new strategies,” said Fallon. “There is also the issue of living up to a legend. Who do legendary weapons belong to? Blood descendants or the most skilled? Especially if they are more symbolic than used for their original purpose. Will they work as well for a different owner? Who do we choose to use Glendivora’s quiver. It could take the council ages to decide that one question. Is it theirs for the battle only? The Dwarves may have similar circumstances with their ax.”

  “What determines who forges a magical weapon and for who?” asked Gavin. “Can anyone pay to have one made? What smiths can make them?”

  “Are heroes born or made?” returned Fallon. “Do all who volunteer to become heroes succeed?”

  Gavin turned red and looked down. Yes, he wanted a magical weapon. Yes, he was volunteering to be a hero. Fallon had hit at the heart of the matter. Fallon stepped towards him and put her hand on his arm.

  “Your greatness comes from within. Your heart wants to learn to be the best and so it drives you to practice. Practice gives you skills. Your skills and what you do with them determine if you are a hero or not. You do not need great weapons for that.”

  “I hope I get a chance to practice with some Elves while the rest of you argue with the council,” Gavin grinned. “Taran’s the only person to beat me so far.”

  “I’m sure you will learn something from the masters,” smiled Fallon. “It is likely you will all learn something while you are here, even if it is exasperation with Elves. While the council discusses strategy, Lucy and Justin can help spell armor.”

  “Will the spells hold? Since we don’t know when the battle will be?” wondered Lucy.

  “We will make them stronger since we have more time to prepare and many other skilled Elves helping. This time, we will use spells to win rather than merely focusing on reducing casualties. We know some of the creatures we will be fighting against and will alter how we spell items to counter their particular fighting strengths and magical attributes,” answered Justin. “We were pretty sure Fredamonn didn’t have a manticore. The Shadow Weaver does. Spells protecting against poisonous claws are necessary this time.”

  That made sense to Lucy. She was glad they would not have to track down a bunch of magical weapons. A lot can go missing in a thousand years. How would you know you actually had the weapon when you found it? She wasn’t sure how much time they had to prepare, but she thought there were better uses than that for the time they did have. She liked Fallon and hoped to learn from her and talk with her over the next few days. She went to bed when Fallon dismissed them and fell asleep immediately. She slept better than she had in weeks. A deep, dreamless, refreshing sleep.

  Chapter 22

  Justin was still sleeping when Lucy woke the next morning. She snuck out of bed and went looking for breakfast; she found Ferra instead. The Elf was outside near their tree house, facing the rising sun, and stretching. Lucy recognized the stretches as some she had learned from Taran. She positioned herself about four feet away from Ferra and joined in. The slow, controlled, fluid motions felt wonderful. Lucy’s soreness and tensions drained away. After they finished going through the motions a third time, Ferra turned to her and smiled.

  “Justin?” she questioned.

  “Taran,” replied Lucy.

  “You move well,” she nodded with approval.

  “Thanks,” replied Lucy with a self-deprecating laugh.

  “What?” questioned Ferra.

  “Watching Elves move is like every cliché I
’ve ever heard. ‘It is poetry in motion. They are heartbreakingly graceful. They walk more gracefully than some talented people dance.’ I’ve felt very awkward since we entered your lands.”

  Ferra laughed. “Do your best and don’t let the rest worry you. How is your hand to hand combat?”

  “Not as good as it probably should be. I’ve been concentrating on my magical abilities lately. I’ve been working more on inner peace and balance than hitting adversaries.”

  “Sometimes, the best way to find inner peace is to hit someone,” teased Ferra.

  It was Lucy’s turn to laugh, in earnest this time.

  “In all seriousness, outward balance can sometimes help with inner balance and vice versa. We’ll start slowly,” Ferra assured her.

  The moves Ferra showed her were different from the ones she had learned with Orin. Ferra’s moves felt like dance steps, especially when they did them in slow motion. Lucy found herself smiling as they began to move faster. This was fun. Once she got the basic set down, Ferra got picky about placement.

  “The moves are not enough. You have to adjust them for each person you fight. In many cases, the moves are designed to hit pressure points or make your opponent’s body move to painful positions. It is a good fighting style for smaller women because it relies on creating the most amount of pain with the least amount of force or strength,” Ferra explained.

  “I like it,” responded Lucy with gusto and a smile.

  “So do I,” said Taran joining them.

  “How much do you remember?” asked Ferra, a twinkle in her eyes.

  “Enough to go full speed but pull the hits,” replied Taran, returning the twinkle.

  Ferra crouched in the ready position. Taran matched her position with the corresponding one. Then they began. Lucy was enthralled watching their quick and fluid movements. At times her eyes couldn’t follow the motions. Ferra was quicker and more graceful, of course, but Taran by no means floundered. They dipped and spun; hands and legs flashed out at each other. Every step back had a return attack and every attack moved into a block. Lucy had no idea who was winning. Every now and then one of them grunted when a hit was struck, but it was never hard enough to break the dance. It was beautiful to watch.

  “I’m done,” said Taran, stepping out of the fight and breathing heavily. “That was fun. Thank you.”

  Ferra grinned.

  “That was amazing to watch,” said Lucy. “Can we practice every day?”

  “Yes,” said Fallon from behind her. “Every morning should start with stretching and exercise. Now, some breakfast. Are the others up?”

  “If Gavin is awake, I’m sure we will find him wherever food is,” said Lucy. “It looks like Justin was watching from the window,” she waved, “I’m sure he’ll meet us there.”

  After breakfast, they packed and left. Gavin was curious about the small packs Ferra and Fallon carried. He was also worried about the small supply of food.

  “We will make it to a guest house before nightfall,” explained Fallon. “They will have plenty of food, even for you.”

  “Can’t we travel by magic?” asked Lucy. She liked her new mode of transportation.

  “We could, but it would be considered very rude, unless this were an emergency. I think we have the time to make a good impression. If the Shadow Weaver were on this side of the mountains, I would have brought us there yesterday after your farseeing. As it is, he is still preparing so we must also prepare. We want the council to believe you and prepare for war. Preferably while cooperating with the other races. The less they have to argue about the better. Humans traveling through their land by magical means could start a week long debate,” Fallon seemed saddened by this last comment. “It is only a three day walk.”

  So, they started walking. Fallon led. She kept them on a quick, but not too taxing pace. Barralor brought up the rear. Lucy wasn’t sure what to make of him. He didn’t seem overly friendly, neither did he seem rude. He was simply aloof, but it didn’t seem by design. More as though that was his natural way of being. Ferra, on the other hand, was friendly, chatty, and fun. Lucy loved talking with her as they traveled. Ferra seemed accepting. She wasn’t sure if that was because of Tish or not, but either way, it felt comforting to have a friend.

  Much to Gavin’s relief, every evening found them eating and sleeping at a guest house. Every morning, they stretched and sparred. Lucy learned more and improved a little every day. She got quicker, more accurate with her hits, and more confident with the style. Gavin mostly sparred with Barralor. They used weapons. Barralor’s reflexes were better than Gavin’s and he’d had hundreds of years to hone his skills. Gavin was a decent opponent and tenacious as well as voracious in his goals to continue to learn more and improve. He was enjoying himself. He liked a challenge. So often he checked his skills and pulled his hits in an effort to teach others. It was fun not to worry about that with Barralor. If he scored a hit, it was well deserved. Besides, Justin could heal anything short of death. Lucy figured a few more weeks with Barralor and he’d be giving some of the Elves a challenge. There wouldn’t be a human that could beat him, if there was before this. Taran and Justin took turns working with Lucy, sparring with Ferra, and sparring as a team against Gavin to give him a break from Barralor. Fallon stretched with them every morning, but opted out of sparring.

  Lucy loved everything about their travels through Elven lands. After weeks spent in the mists, it was a holiday for her senses. There were many small streams bubbling with laughter. The air was fresh with hints of flowers. The animals were plentiful and friendly. Birds sang from the trees and occasionally came down to sit on Fallon’s shoulders for a verse of song before returning to their perches. Squirrels scampered between their legs, chittering at them, as though it were a game. Rabbits frolicked along beside them. Deer walked with them, majestically, for a while before vanishing into the foliage. The trees were something else altogether. They were old, but not like the trees in the Skelt forests. These trees had remained happy. There was joy in them as they swayed in the breeze. Lucy kept waiting for them to uproot and dance. She wondered if there were dryads inside. Who did she ask? If the dryads heard her asking, would they laugh at her? Above all that, the company she traveled with couldn’t have been better.

  On their second night, Lucy went to sleep expecting another deep, dreamless, refreshing sleep. Instead, she awoke hearing waterfalls and smelling different smells than those pervading the Elven forests. There was an altered freshness to the air, less earthy and green. The air held a water freshness and Lucy could smell sun baked rocks. She was confused for a moment. Then, she smiled.

  “Ishalla?” she asked without opening her eyes.

  “You have many other nighttime visitors?” came the rye, questioning reply.

  Lucy could sense an eyebrow raise in that question. She opened her eyes and smiled again.

  “You look happier and more rested than the last time I saw you. You must be out of the mists,” commented Ishalla.

  “Yes, we are with the Elves,” said Lucy.

  “A good place for you for a time,” nodded Ishalla. “Much better than the mists.”

  “Don’t you know where I am when you bring me here?” wondered Lucy.

  Ishalla made a dismissive motion with her hand as though a detail like that wasn’t important. “I don’t bother to find out. Did you find what you needed to in the mists?”

  “We found a Shadow Weaver plotting behind the scenes. There is one gathering an army of darkness to bring over the mountains.”

  “Only one?” asked Ishalla.

  “Isn’t one enough?” countered Lucy.

  “It certainly can be, but usually one alone isn’t open about an invasion.”

  “I found one in a castle throne room. He sensed me so I didn’t stay to investigate. I only returned once, to show Fallon, and I didn’t focus on him, not wanting to attract his attention again. I hope there isn’t more than one involved.”

  “I would prep
are for more if I were you. My initial guess would be three. More than three and they start to fight amongst themselves. Once they are on the move, they will expect to be found. You can ascertain their exact numbers then.” Ishalla studied Lucy carefully. “You’ve been in touch with a Rav. Are they apprised of the situation?”

  “I’m not certain. He didn’t mention anything relevant, and I didn’t know he was a Rav until Fallon told me.”

  “Oh, good, Fallon is on top of things. That will help. I’ve always liked Fallon. So, what were you doing with a Rav?” Ishalla raised an eyebrow.

  “He was cryptically trying to recruit me, and I was resisting,” replied Lucy.

  “Yes, Ravs often get their way in the end,” Ishalla smirked. “You would be a powerful asset to them. It is a choice you may have to make. Since he left his mark on you, I assume he told you where to find him again.” Lucy nodded. “Good, then you have established an open line of communication with them. You may need that if you are to defeat the Shadow Weavers.”

  Ishalla walked away from Lucy and looked at the waterfall, deep in thought. Lucy wasn’t sure if she should interrupt or not. Ishalla was as still as a statue.

  “Why did you call me here this time?” asked Lucy finally.

  Ishalla looked up slowly and studied Lucy for a moment. It was almost as though she had forgotten Lucy was there at all and had to reorder her thoughts.

  “I was going to continue with our training. I thought an update on your doings was a good idea. Last time, I found you in the mists. Apparently, keeping an eye on you will help keep you out of trouble. I was thinking of teaching you how to change into certain animals. It would be hard work and fun at the same time. With the coming threat, though, perhaps I should teach you something to counteract shadow magic.”

  “I won’t argue with whatever you decide to teach me,” affirmed Lucy.

  Ishalla cocked an eyebrow and gave her a half smile. “How naïve,” she murmured. “I think right now, the most important thing is to be aware of the movements of the Shadow Weavers’ army. We can’t have you scrying for them every couple of days; that’s courting disaster. I think a leash-ward might be the best option.”