Shasta and I rushed through the halls of the palace, headed toward the drawing room, where I hoped Father still was. Maybe the lords of the Council would still be there too, and we’d be able to do something about the attack right away.
“Selena, there you are.” It was Father at the far end of the hall. He held a tall-stemmed wineglass in his hand and walked toward us with quick, purposeful steps. An ellas on a mission.
I looked down at mine and Shasta’s still intwined hands and blushed. Perhaps Father wouldn’t notice that we were holding hands. It felt so right. I’d known Shasta for years and now that he was holding my hand, it felt like pieces of a puzzle had finally come into place. Shasta gave my hand a squeeze and held on tight.
When he reached us, he paused a minute, looking at us, slightly out of breath. He must have been walking fairly fast through the palace trying to find me if he was panting like that.
“Yes, Father?” I asked, impatient for him to begin.
“Have you seen Simone? I’ve been looking all over for him.” Father’s voice was tight with worry, his fingertips white against the wineglass.
“Have you checked his rooms? Perhaps he got tired of the party and retired early,” I said, still covering for my brother. We weren’t supposed to have sneaked out of the palace. Who knew what Father would do if he knew that his children were amongst the revelers in the streets. Especially after what had just happened.
He shook his head. “I suppose I’ll check there next. But Selena, I need you to attend the Council meeting tomorrow morning.” Father’s face was grave. He must have already gotten wind of what had happened in the square.
I took a step backward. Stunned. In all my sixteen years, Father had never invited me to sit in on a Council meeting. The Council was for the eleven lords who were on it to attend, no others. Sometimes Simone attended—Father said it was to train him to be king one day—but ellassens? Ellassens definitely were never invited to the Council meetings. What was going on?
“Why, Father?” I asked, flabbergasted.
He sighed heavily and lifted his tired eyes to meet my own. “Just come to the meeting, daughter. You’ll find out then.” He turned to Shasta, who was still protectively holding my hand. “And you. You’re Lord Conrad’s son, right?”
Shasta nodded, blushing.
“Come to the meeting too. It’ll be good training for when you take your father’s place here in a few years.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Shasta said, bowing his blonde head respectfully.
“Now, I must find Simone.” He gave my upper arm an affectionate squeeze, and rushed off down the corridor, headed in the direction of the royal bedchambers.
“Why do you think he wants us at the Council meeting?” Shasta asked. His hand was warm and callused, as if he spent a great deal of time with his sword practice.
“I have no idea,” I breathed, staring down the hall after my father, dazed. “Come, let’s go find your parents. It’s about time for the fireworks anyway, and they’ll be looking for us.”
I puzzled the whole way to the rooftop where we’d be watching the fireworks display. How could the lords of the Council have need of me? They didn’t use ellassens in Karaphyllon. Not for important matters, like fighting the Shadow. We were meant to be homemakers. Hope for an exciting future rose in my chest, but I quickly quelled it. There was no point in letting my imagination run wild and play a guessing game all night that would only make my head spin. The Council meeting was bright and early tomorrow morning, right after breakfast. I would find out what this was all about then.
* * *
“Let the meeting of the Council come to order,” Jirieth, the Speaker of the Council bellowed in his rumbling bass, quieting the ten other ellases who, before that moment, had all been speaking quietly amongst themselves in little groups of two and three, eying me occasionally. I stuck out like a sore thumb, the only ellassen in this room of ellases. Even Shasta, who sat in a chair along the wall beside me, fit in better than I. What could Father want of me?
All eyes turned to my father, King Ethele, who stood and looked ready to say something official.
“My Lords.” He spoke the way he always did during formal occasions, loud and firm, brooking no nonsense. “It is time.” He adjusted his robes, pulling the dark blue fabric closer together over his white shirt. “I’m sure by now you all know about the attack in the square last night. We have to do something about it. We’ve been talking about the Shadow for too long without action. It is more than just whispers of scullery maids in the kitchens and stable hands in the yard.” He leveled his gaze at the ellases and rested his hands on the long table before him. “Now is the time to act.”
What would they decide to do? The Shadow had attacked us last night. He was no longer a figment of our imaginations, he was real. And he was out to get us. Father’s reason for calling me and Shasta to this meeting was beginning to dawn on me and I found myself wringing my hands nervously as I watched the meeting continue.
The room was silent as a tomb. All around, gray and white-haired lords stared blankly at Father. Then Lord Avice lowered his gaze, followed by Lord Rinion, then Lord Aleric. Alec, the youngest lord in the room, his head still a solid brown color, the mark of a much younger Elf than the rest, was the only one who looked confident at Father’s words. His jaw was set and he still met Father’s eyes. By now, everyone else had quit looking at Father. Their eyes were on everything but him—looking sheepishly at their hands, staring out the window behind Father, biting their lips and glancing uncomfortably at each other and then away.
Alec folded his hands across his place at the table. “What needs to be done, Your Majesty?” he asked, just as stern as Father.
Father cleared his throat, looking like he had lost his nerve, but was quickly regaining it now that he knew Alec was on his side. One lord out of eleven was enough to stop a vote against the king’s proposal.
“We’ve lost the knowledge of fighting magic,” Father said. “This Shadow, whatever he calls himself, is obviously using magic. And not the creation magic we still know, the fighting kind. We must send one of our own off to learn the ancient fighting magic.” He looked each of the lords in the eyes one by one, then nodded. “It’s the only way forward that I see.”
Shasta and I exchanged glances and leaned forward, listening eagerly. Would he send us together? Was that the reason we were here?
“Where would we send them?” Lord Tulese of the Mindarin Tribe asked. He sounded puzzled.
“To Neim,” Father said. “It’s where the Wizard of Ages runs his magic school. It’s the only place in the universe fit for Elves to learn the ancient fighting magic. We’ve put off returning to Neim for too many centuries. It’s time we sent someone.”
“But, Your Majesty, who could we send?” Lord Conrad asked, eying Shasta, who sat beside me on a chair along the wall. Shasta sat up a little straighter. Did he want to be picked? “Even if we put out a call, half the ellases in the kingdom would apply to go.”
“Then it is up to us to decide who we send,” Lord Elric of the Bearn Tribe said, his tone thoughtful.
“Well then, who do we send?” Lord Conrad repeated, looking around the table at all the other white and gray-haired Elves. He ignored me and Shasta seated in the corner. It was as if we didn’t exist. We had been called to this meeting for a reason. Why were they ignoring us?
“None of us can go. We have too many duties here in Karaphyllon,” Lord Grimwald of the Dumnonia Tribe said.
“It must be someone younger than us,” Lord Rinion of the Korion Tribe said. His hair looked especially white, his cheekbones sunken a bit with age. Of course he would vote to send someone younger. I glanced over at Shasta. We were both younger. My palms began to sweat. Father wasn’t about to do this. There was no way.
Father put up his hand to silence the lords. “I propose to send my daughter, Selena,” he said.
Utter silence swept across the room. The lords looked at each other, looked at me, then sat blinking in disbelief at Father.
“It must be someone from the Tribeless. That’s the only way the country will support this,” Father reasoned when no one spoke. “Other than my son, Simone, there are no other ellases among the Tribeless. And I can’t spare him. Whoever goes for training on Neim will need to go for at least three years. He can’t miss the events here in Karaphyllon for that long of a time, not in his position learning how to be king.”
“I don’t know, Your Majesty,” Lord Cedgewick of the Finthwore Tribe said, his words slow and measured. “Are you sure this is a job for an ellassen?”
A few of the lords nodded in agreement, eying me suspiciously. I tried to swallow the nervous lump in my throat. They didn’t think I was good enough. I would prove them wrong.
“If there is anyone we can spare for that long, it is an ellassen. Her job will be merely to learn the ancient fighting magic, then come home and teach us,” Father said.
I sat there open-mouthed in astonishment. Father believed I could do something as great as this. Pride rose in my chest at his words. At last, they were choosing an ellassen to do something important for the world. I would not let them down.
“My Lords, I see no one more fit for the position.” He smiled my way, his eyes warm and encouraging.
I glanced at Shasta, but his expression was unreadable. I’d seen him straighten in his chair when his father glanced at him. He’d hoped he would be picked.
“Then we must put it to a vote,” Alec said, nodding at Jirieth to do his duties as Speaker of the Council.
Jirieth gave a long look around the room and sighed. “We’ve all heard the king’s wishes, My Lords,” he said. “Let us vote. All in favor for sending Selena to Neim to learn the ancient fighting magic say ‘aye’.”
There was a chorus of ‘ayes’, enough for the vote to pass.
“It is decided, then,” Jirieth said with finality.
My mouth fell open in shock. I had just been chosen to go to Neim to train in the ancient fighting magic.