Heirs of Prophecy - Lisa Smedman [61]
"No," Rylith answered. "When I gave the gift of foresight to you at the Turning of the Seldanqith, you did not receive it as I had hoped. You seemed… alarmed and agitated by what you heard. Instead of conveying a message of hope to the people, you-"
"I panicked," Larajin whispered.
Rylith paused, and shook her head. "It caused great concern-and it was something I should have anticipated. I should have realized that you were not prepared-that the experience might frighten you. Being raised among humans…" She shrugged, and made a circle in the air before bowing her head and touching fingers to her forehead. "What is done is done. Everything is but a spoke in the wheel."
whisper.
"Leifander's?" Rylith asked in alarm.
"No, Tal's-my half-brother."
"Ah." The druid made a dismissive gesture.
Larajin felt a rush of anger at the realization that Tal's death-the death of a mere human-meant nothing to the forest elves, but she forced it down in the hope that Rylith might be able to tell her what to do.
"What were the gods trying to tell me?" she asked. "What message should I have heard?"
"We may never know-but we may conjecture," Ryhth said. "What remains of Cormanthor-of the great wood- is faced with a terrible prospect. A war could decimate our people and destroy the forest itself. The war is also sure to claim the lives of many humans."
Like Tal, Larajin thought grimly.
"This bloodshed was not meant to be," Rylith continued. "Someone has tipped the balance. Now the scales must be set level again. That task rests upon you and your brother, who share a great gift. Together, you can put a halt to the slaughter before it begins."
Larajin frowned, wondering if she was interpreting the druid's words correctly. "You expect Leifander and I to stop the war?"
Rylith stared into the trees, as if looking past them into a great distance. 'Years before you and your brother were born, your sister Somnilthra prophesied that two children born to Trisdea would end her life but would save many more. That they would 'heal a great rift, and end a great strife.' That rift can be no other than the one between elf and human. That strife is this war.
"You and your brother are in balance-male and female, human and elf. Who better to balance the scales of fate?"
Larajin felt a tangle of conflicting emotions: relief that the war could still be halted and Tal's life saved-and dread.
"But… I wouldn't know where to begin. I couldn't-" Not alone.
Startled, Larajin looked around. The voice was achingly beautiful and had come from everywhere at once, its syllables formed from the sighing of wind through branches, from the distant trill of birdsong in the wood, from the gurgle of the stream that flowed past the rock on which Larajin sat. A fragrance filled the air- heady and sweet, the smell of flowers-and not just any blossoms, but those of Hanali's Heart. Larajin looked down, and saw floating on the pool a single red petal, flecked with gold. For a moment, she thought the locket at her wrist had fallen open, but a quick glance told her that it was still securely fastened. She reached for the floating petal-
And jerked her hand back in alarm as Leifander's face appeared once more in the pool. This time, the image was moving, not still. Leifander lay on his back on a stone floor, his eyes wide and his mouth opened in a scream. He wrenched his head to the side as a squirming rat landed on the floor beside him. The rat lunged at Leifander's face, drawing blood. Leifander shook his head violently, dislodging the rat, but three more scurried in to lap at the hot, dark blood that trickled down his cheek.
"Why doesn't he throw them off?" she shouted, leaping to her feet in alarm as one of the rats ran across the vision in the pool, seemingly toward her own foot. "He's just lying there!"
Rylith glanced up at Larajin in alarm. "What is it? What do you see?"
Larajin was transfixed by the image in the pool. Standing up had somehow shifted it, giving a view of more than just Leifander's face. She