Chapter 11
The first arrow sailed towards Eilidh’s back, but ricocheted harmlessly off the earthen wall thrown up subconsciously behind her. Before she could even think of summoning another buffer, a second arrow slammed into her wooden shield, still strapped firmly to her back. The impact knocked the breath from her, pitching her forward onto one knee and throwing the torch from her grasp.
Still gasping for precious air, Eilidh furiously pulled at her shield, trying to dislodge it. It wouldn’t budge.
That second arrow must have pinned the shield to my cloak, Eilidh realized with horror.
Her dismay intensified when she caught a glimpse of her helmet lying on the ground next to the fallen torch. There was no time to retrieve it. She had to take the offensive quickly.
A third arrow rebounded off of a freshly summoned rock wall as Eilidh rose and rushed her shadowy enemy. With the light of the torch now lying behind her, Eilidh’s own long shadow blocked her view of the assailant. Out of the darkness, pain erupted in Eilidh’s left arm as an arrow found its mark, knocking her off balance.
The agony soared to heights Eilidh had never thought possible. The simple task of running became arduous to the point of hopelessness. She stumbled forward, still seeking the enemy ahead. Another arrow appeared from the gloom, barely missing Eilidh’s cheek and sailing through her exposed red hair like a cool breeze. The missile’s flights scratched at her ear on their way past.
The archer strode towards Eilidh, confident that she’d been sufficiently weakened. In truth, Eilidh felt miserable, leaning against the wall, breathing deeply, agony wrenching her lifeless arm. The enemy’s lapse in professionalism cleared Eilidh’s mind. The archer should’ve finished her off from a safe distance when they had the chance.
She dropped her sword to the ground with a clank. She reached up and yanked out the arrow from her arm in one sudden motion. The excruciating pain shocked her in its brutality. Her mind fought against the physical distress and released a calming sensation in defense. Eilidh felt oddly at peace.
Closing her eyes softly, Eilidh reached down through her feet into the ground, calling forth the Tree’s healing powers. The earth’s quick response flowed through her body like the warmth of a good bath.
Ethereal white vines wrapped around her arm and cinched tight, before fading inwards through her clothes and into her skin. Revitalized, Eilidh grabbed her sword off the ground and struck out at the cocky archer who now stood within her reach. The glint of two blades materialized from the darkness, illuminated by the torch down the hallway. The orange glow reflected wickedly against the swift steel, but the suddenness of Eilidh’s attack had obviously caught her foe by surprise. The archer’s weapons failed to catch Eilidh’s sword in time, yet her blade infuriatingly missed its desired target in a sloppy uppercut motion.
Fortunately, Eilidh’s fist, still wrapped around the sword, caught the archer directly under the chin. The gut-wrenching sound of shattering teeth resounded in the quiet tunnel, and a high-pitched, keening wail filled the air with pure suffering as the archer’s mouth fell open once more. The impact knocked the poor archer’s blades from their hands as they fell forward onto both knees, groping futilely at their destroyed mouth.
In the heat of the moment, Eilidh drove an armored punch into the side of the archer’s head, sending a crimson spray of fragmented teeth to the ground. The emotional release of vengeance tingled in her bones, but Eilidh didn’t think she should beat down a defeated opponent like she would a wild dog. It didn’t seem right.
Eilidh loomed over her fallen adversary, her blunt sword pointed at the downcast head.
And she hesitated. What was she supposed to do? Execute the enemy? Leave them to wallow in their anguish? Provide a healing spell to ease their suffering?
The complexity of the decision increased tenfold when the archer’s battered face finally lifted to Eilidh’s.
An elf!
“Wha—? What are—?” Eilidh stammered, now taking a few steps back. There was no mistaking the telltale points of each ear, the alabaster skin hue, or the perfectly straight hair.
But why would an elf ever ambush her? They were both citizens of Andua together.
Obviously this Anduain sister of hers had mistaken her for an enemy. Eilidh could see how that mistake could happen, especially down in the depths where a person could hunt for days without encountering another soul. Paranoia would serve as an easy companion.
Upon closer inspection, Eilidh noted the dark green cloak, held together with an oval-shaped silver clasp depicting a soaring hawk. But that was impossible.
“Why did you attack me, tracker?” Eilidh yelled. Trackers served under King Darren, usually as scouts and snipers, and all wore the hawk emblem.
Embracing her anger, Eilidh approached, sword now directed at the tracker’s exposed throat, the tip of the sword pushing on the pale skin, but not breaking it. Blood dripped from the elf’s open mouth. The sight of the broken teeth turned Eilidh’s stomach, but her fury remained in control.
“I could’ve killed you!”
Upon further reflection, Eilidh realized that the elf could’ve easily killed her, too.
But what happens next?
Something in the elf’s clear blue eyes changed. The penetrating stare had picked up on Eilidh’s indecision, her failure to act. Resolution filled those burning eyes. The elf slowly stood up. Eilidh held her sword uneasily against the tracker’s throat. She gave up at least two hands’ breadths in height to the slender elf, but that physical difference didn’t concern Eilidh.
Her only concern was what this elf was thinking, and what she would do next.
Could she kill an ally, even one who’d attacked her first?
Her outstretched arm started to twinge under the sword’s weight. She didn’t know how much longer she could face this standoff, emotionally or physically.
Fatigued to failure, the sword arm dropped and the elf immediately grabbed at the weapon. Survival instincts kicked in for both fighters as the elf’s hands gripped Eilidh’s wrist. She twisted her arm back and forth, trying to break the vice-like grip of the elf, but the taller female held on for dear life. Knowing the fight was over if she lost her sword, Eilidh clamped her fingers around the handle with all her might.
The elf drove into Eilidh suddenly, forcing her up against the tunnel wall, where she smacked the back of her head. Stars bloomed before her eyes, obscuring her view of the tracker. Not knowing what else to do, Eilidh brought her knee up hard between the elf’s legs. The result of this attack on a male would’ve been more effective, but the elf loosened her grip on Eilidh’s wrist just enough for Eilidh to break free.
In one clumsy movement, Eilidh grabbed her hilt with both hands and drove the bottom of the sword’s handle down onto the elf’s forehead.
The tracker crumpled wordlessly. Eilidh breathed hard, hands on knees. The elf lay motionless, but Eilidh didn’t have the heart to check for a pulse. If she’d just killed an Anduain, she didn’t want to know about it.
Eilidh staggered towards the dimming torch and her helm, considered pressing on down into the pitch black tunnel, but then thought the better of it. The fierce struggle had left her feeling weak and drained, and her growling stomach reminded her that she hadn’t eaten all day. Unfortunately, Ruaidhri carried the pack with all of their provisions.
I can’t survive another attack like this, she thought hopelessly, still breathing hard. I need to find Ruaidhri, but I can’t do it alone.
She resolved to head back up to the caverns’ entrance, to find some allies in her journey to reunite with Ruaidhri. He would still be down there, searching tirelessly for her while she fearfully ran away to the surface, but what else could she do?
Surely it was better if she lived to find him later rather than getting herself killed searching for him alone.
Before leaving the downed elf, Eilidh managed to remove the arrow and
shield from her back. The arrow had snapped near the tip, freeing her shield from her cloak. That must’ve happened when the elf threw her against the wall. In the firelight she could see the deep scar that the arrow had etched into her shield, leaving a sizeable gouge in the green paint. The next time she saw one of her brothers, they would have to fix it for her. She smiled as she thought about how impressed they’d both be with her stories of valor and bravery. Finally, she’d acted in a way that she could find pride in.
She worked her way quickly through the maze of the caverns, seeking the exit. The deserted corridors helped speed her progress. While jogging through yet another tunnel, she thought about how her brothers had never encouraged her in her desire to become a soldier. They both thought that she would fail miserably. How she’d proved them wrong.
Of course, here she was, running away from her mission.
As she left the depths of the caverns behind, Ruaidhri could be dead or dying, screaming for her to help him. The image brought a tear to Eilidh’s eye, but there was no other option. She had to leave in order to return stronger, bolstered with the help of like-minded allies.
“Oh, Ruaidhri, please don’t die,” Eilidh prayed fervently.
She repeated the chant over and over, the repetition easing her mind’s frantic worry. The mantra stopped when a tall figure in blue shot across the tunnel intersection ahead of her.
Could it be?
“Ruaidhri!” she yelled.
Eilidh ran down the gloomy tunnel faster than she’d ever thought possible. The air itself seemed to assist her, pushing her forward with supernatural speed. Rounding each corner brought a new pang of disappointment as her companion continued to evade her. Did he even know she was chasing him?
The sound of growling greeted Eilidh around one brightly lit corner. There she stood in great contrast to her surroundings, a small woman in a large hallway. Four giant bears now faced her, beating the ground with their paws, building up an unstoppable rage. Their eyes burned ferociously, their murderous intent blatantly apparent.
Frozen in time and space, Eilidh could swear that plumes of smoke flowed from the angered nostrils. The enraged creatures now moved as one, stampeding towards her.
Terror gave way to common sense as she turned on her heels and galloped back through the tunnels, her mind filled with visions of the bears catching her. Seeing her small body slashed to a bloody pulp forced her legs to pump harder. The deep roaring behind her invaded her body, more of a feeling than a sound. The ground beneath her feet rumbled under the weight of the stampede.
The tunnels passed by in a flurry and the irritated bears finally gave up their pursuit. But Eilidh didn’t give up on her flight. She felt far more invigorated than ever before. Gravity struggled to keep her tethered to the ground as she flew down one tunnel after another.
The familiar sounds of Anduains fighting cave spiders floated down a tunnel towards her. Eilidh slowed to a careful walk. She yearned for friendly faces to assist in her mission, but a friendly face had just shot her in the back. She pulled up short at the intersection from where the cries and roars of battle resounded.
Did she dare step into the light, into the open for the Anduains to see? What if they no longer honored their allegiance to King Darren and the High Priestess? Had the elves deserted Andua? The unanswerable questions spiraled through her mind, adding and multiplying endlessly.
“Ruaidhri, I need you,” she whispered.