Side A – Yasgrid
Helping Kyra meant finding her. The Darkwood was not endless. There were a limited number of forgotten glades and shadowed dells where Elshira’s throne could sit. From what King had said though even finding Elshira wouldn’t mean finding her prisoners. Much like Kyra had been able to step over to the Lost Roads, Elshira had found some otherworld which lay adjacent to the living world the gods of the Elves had helped build.
“Can you tell anything about where Kyra is hidden?” Yasgrid asked, fairly certain she knew what the answer would be.
“She is not here,” King said. “And where she rests is not in any land which I have tread.”
That was more information than Yasgrid had expected and it started some wheels turning in her head.
“Have you walked in the Darkwood much so far?” she asked.
“Yes,” King said.
“At Frost Harbor, we have our gods imprisoned in a volcano,” Yasgrid said. “Or I think it’s more accurate to say that they path to the realm of their prison lies through the volcano’s heart.”
“It does,” King said.
“Have you walked into their realm?” Yasgrid asked.
“It was disagreeable,” King said.
Yasgrid wasn’t surprised by that, though it was mildly terrifying that King was able to traverse into and out of a prison designed by gods to contain gods.
“Have you found any realms like that attached to the Darkwood?” Yasgrid asked.
“As many as there are tree and shrubs,” King said.
Yasgrid drew in a slow breath and steeled her heart. She’d been expecting that general answer, though not quite the magnitude of it.
“Are any of them ones which an elf could traverse?” she asked, hoping to narrow the list to something manageable in the time she had available.
“There were many which you could traverse,” King said. “If you knew the way and held the key.”
That wasn’t an answer to the exact question Yasgrid had asked and Yasgrid suspected King had done her a tremendous favor in reinterpreting her words. She’d already traveled to more otherworlds than any other elf she knew. Between being the Bearer and her special connection with Nia, it was entirely possible she would be able to access places no other person could. Or, more importantly, no other living person.
“Elshira wouldn’t have brought Kyra to a place only the dead could walk,” she said speaking in the mind speech she shared with King more to put her thoughts in order than solicit answers or feedback. “But a realm that only the dead can hold the key to? That would be ideal for her, and could be the sort of thing that is naturally more accessible at the solstices.”
“There are many such places,” King said. “And many nightmares which inhabit them.”
Yasgrid smiled and felt an eager hunger rise in her heart.
“Are there now?” she said. It was fortuitous, she was walking her path without Kayelle or Marianne at her side. Either of them would have listened to five seconds of the plan which was forming in her mind and immediately gotten to work wrapping her in several tons of chains for her own good.
“You seem pleased by this?” King said.
“I am. You tell me there are nightmares out there? I believe it’s time to wake them up.”
Side B – Nia
Nia felt a terrible urge, one that was certain to get her killed if she acted on it.
“No. We are not going to spy on Drum Master Pelegar’s date,” Margrada said.
“I know,” Nia said. “I’m just saying it would be delightful to see her in some mode other than ‘Drum Master’.”
“She’s meeting another Shatter Drummer, what makes you think she’ll act any differently than what we’ve seen so far?”
“They may have drums in common but I’ve got to imagine that Pelegar has more to work with than just that,” Nia said.
“And what’s wrong with only having drumming in common?” Margrada asked, a teasing mirth wrinkling up the corners of her eyes.
“Drumming is wonderful,” Nia said running a caressing finger up Margrada’s forearm. “But a good relationship requires more than just that.” She made little swirls on Margrada’s biceps.
“Oh, really? What more might a good relationship need?” Margrada asked.
“Well, I recall that ours started with a fist fight,” Nia said, not trying to hide the teasing in her smile.
“No it didn’t,” Margrada said. “Unless that was what it took to wake you up to my charms?”
“Oh I was impressed with your charms well before that,” Nia said. “When did you noticed mine though? I thought up until our fight you hated me?”
“Oh I did,” Margrada said. “That was a lot easier than admitting that you’d done a good job, or that you were better than me. I pretty much had to punch you in the face for that. At least that’s where my head was stuck then.”
“And now that you’ve learned that I’m dreadfully worse than you?” Nia asked. It didn’t hurt to admit that. If anything, she felt a aching surge of pride in how amazing the woman she was with was.
Margrada however stared back at her like Nia had spouted the sort of nonsense that indicated the presence of a severe head injury.
“Did you sleep long enough to forget everything we’ve done over the last couple of weeks?” she asked, tilting her head as though Nia would make sense from what angle.
“I remember quite clearly how I was barely able to begin to follow you when we played together,” Nia said. “I remember that without you there wouldn’t have been even a tiny chance of pulling off some of the songs we’ve played.”
She met Margrada’s gaze directly and was swept up by seeing her reflection in Margrada’s eyes, as though that was the most perfect place her reflection could be.
“I remember that from the first time we played together, you have been the model of what a drummer could be for me,” Nia said and was rewarded with the sight of Margrada’s eyes softening with the same gushy flood of emotion which Nia was overflowing with.
“Then it’s probably time for our first real fight,” Margrada said as a disturbing gleam came into in her eyes.