Oberon's Dreams - By Aaron Pogue Page 0,61
What is the yesterworld?”
Avery frowned. “Nothing. It is nowhere.”
“Is that where the druids come from? Ephitel called them outlanders.”
“He should not have used that name,” Avery said. “We’re not allowed to speak of yesterworld to manling mortals.”
Corin wanted to ask more, but Avery looked wretched at what he had let slip, and Kellen stood behind him with a white-knuckled grip on his sword’s hilt. Corin couldn’t imagine the gentle soldier employing the weapon, but the gaffe had clearly upset them both.
“Forget the yesterworld,” Corin said. “Tell me more about the Nimble Fingers.”
Avery cocked his head. “Why should I tell tales when you are from tomorrow? Shouldn’t you be telling me?”
Corin shrugged. “What questions do you have?”
“Who is king of Gesoelig in your time?”
“It is as I said in the story. There is no Gesoelig. This whole city was lost and forgotten somewhere along the way.”
“Very well,” Avery said. “Then who is king of Hurope?”
Corin shook his head. “There is no king of Hurope. Hurope is divided into near a dozen kingdoms. Ithale may be the most powerful, Rikkeborh the wealthiest, Raentz the cleverest…”
“Ithale the most powerful,” Avery said. “And you claimed Ephitel is king there?”
“Worse,” Corin said. “He is their god. The manling family Vestossi reigns at Ephitel’s pleasure, but everyone within the land trembles in fear of Ephitel.”
“That does not sound so different from Gesoelig,” Kellen muttered. “They do not remember Oberon at all?”
“He was hidden in the oldest texts,” Corin said. “Lost in forgotten languages. But I found his name, and others could. I will remember him and tell the world, if I can but get back.”
Gloomy silence settled on the three until Corin grinned and said, “You are remembered, Avery.” The black-clad gentleman gave a start, and Corin laughed. “Aye. In all the land, though they call you Avery of Jesalich.”
“Better than A. Violet,” Kellen said.
Avery shot him a glare, but turned quickly back to Corin. “How do they know me? Why?”
“By the Nimble Fingers,” Corin said. “It became far more than a hobby. It is your legacy.”
“The Nimble Fingers?” Avery’s brief laughter became a suspicious glare. “You are teasing me.”
“Not in the least. I owe my every talent to your teachings passed down through the years. You have been something of a hero to me, ever since I was a boy. It will be an honor to rob a god with you.”
Avery grinned at that. “It will be fun to try.”
“And what of me?” Kellen asked. “Am…am I remembered in your time?”
Corin shrugged and looked away. “I’m sorry, but I do not know your name.”
“What of Maurelle?” Avery asked. “Or Parkyr?”
Corin shook his head. “There aren’t elves within the lands of men. I was astonished to see so many lords and ladies in this place. There are old stories of your people, and rumors of distant, mystical islands where elves still live. But mostly you are just stories for our children.”
After a stale moment, Kellen heaved a sigh. “It is likely just as well that I’m forgotten. I doubt I’d be pleased to know how I was remembered.”
Corin shook his head. “You are a hero, Yeoman Kellen. I will remember you as nobly as I remember Oberon. If I can find my way home, I will tell them how you stood against a tyrant. That is courage.”
Kellen smirked. “I have not stood yet.”
“You will,” Corin said. “I see it in you.”
Avery’s ears perked up. He sat a little straighter, then sprang to his feet. “And soon, perhaps. It seems I misjudged my sister. And your druids.”
“Have they come?” Corin asked, but a moment later he heard it himself. From away to the south, the clamor of an angry mob tore at the morning stillness.
“The guards are on the move,” Kellen said, from his place at the gate. “It’s working. Age of reason, it’s working!”
“Keep calm,” Corin said. “This is our plan.” He looked up toward the top of the gate and the cruelly sharp spikes that topped it. “Is this our best way in?”
Kellen shook his head. “There’s a river birch some way down that leans over the gate. It’s nearer to the stables entrance, anyway.”
“Then let us move,” Corin said. “I don’t know how long Delaen’s mob will hold against Ephitel’s guards.”
Kellen led the way, darting north along the gate’s path. He moved with the same easy grace as Avery, but his eyes flickered nervously, and he never stopped chewing his lip.
Corin asked, “What troubles you?”
Kellen snorted. “Everything? What are we to do once we’re