Son of Thunder - Murray J. D. Leeder [55]
"So is that it?" asked Vell, a touch of bitterness entering his voice. "I have the soul of a lizard? A lizard none of my people have ever seen-is that not strange to you?"
"Let me ask this," said Lanaal. "Do you feel lonely, even among your companions? A dull ache, an emptiness in your soul that you don't know how to fill?" Vell didn't have to nod. "Perhaps that's because you are not with your true kind-the behemoths."
"Behemoths are not my kind!" Vell shouted.
"But you can transform into one."
"Only once," Vell said. "I don't know if I could do it again."
"How did it happen?" asked Lanaal. "Tell me about it."
"Our village was under siege," he said. "Our chief was captured by the enemy. He is still missing. I knew of the power in me and I thought there was something deeper, and this time I reached in and drew upon it. Then, I lost all control of myself. Forgot myself."
"That can happen," said Lanaal. "I remember one time early on, when I became a lark and spent days as one before I even remembered that I was an elf. For you, I would guess it is tied to your nature as an Uthgardt. Your famous rages involve a clouding of the senses, correct? Perhaps you should attempt a transformation at a moment that's less critical."
"I'd be happy never to have that happen again," said Vell. "When you turn into a bird, I'm certain that you do not kill your companions."
"Is that what happened?"
Vell nodded sadly. "Several of them, crushed under my feet."
"The only way you can prevent that is to learn control." Lanaal frowned. "For all I know, it will leave you soon. But if it doesn't, you'll have to accept it as your own. You'll be better for it. I used to feel like there were two souls in my breast, an elf and a bird. But then I realized there was just one-mine, which is both elf and bird."
"No, Lanaal." Vell's eyes were dampening. "It's different for me. I'm cursed. It tears me apart from inside. I could lose myself for good. When I changed back, I spent the night wandering the dark fields alone, trying to pull together every scrap of my identity. You don't understand."
"Yes," she said, her eyes warm with compassion. "I do."
* * * * *
The night wore on and the merriment with it, fading to the mild but persistent happiness of inebriation. Thluna spent much of the evening speaking with elves, drawing out any rumors or legends they knew about behemoths, or about the Thunderbeasts' tribal history. From Faeniele Eshele, a wood elf in the camp, he heard a strange story alleging that a behemoth had been spotted many centuries before, grazing in a swamp alongside the Heartblood River. But when an elf party arrived to investigate, it was gone-not only the behemoth, but the swamp as well.
Those elves were uncomfortably close to the Dire Wood and were not inclined to probe deeply, but one elf wizard grew intrigued and cast a spell to search for magical illusion. He found skillfully hidden magical emanations that implied a large concealed space, but was unable to reveal it. They suspected that it may have been some relic of a lost civilization, one of a great many strewn about the High Forest-possibly the elves' own Eaerlann.
"This is only a rumor, you understand," said Faeniele. "But I will contact Reitheillaethor and ask if anyone knows more. It may be within the memory of some of our elders." Thluna thanked her profusely.
Later, as Thluna relaxed beneath a great oak, having consumed some of the Tree Ghosts' hearty ale, Kellin came and slumped down next to him.
"Have you learned anything interesting?" he asked.
"Yes," she said, her speech slightly slurred. "Very interesting indeed. How about you?"
"I think I might have learned where we're going."
"Wonderful," said Kellin. "And Thluna?"
"Yes?"
"Isn't it time somebody told me what happened in the Fallen Lands?"
The question hung in the air, unaddressed. Thluna felt a kind of shame as he thought about it. But it was only