Page 82 of Into the West

“Then open the gate!”

Reluctantly, two of the men on the wall itself came down the stairs, unbarred the gate, and began to pull it open. But the Dolls were too impatient to wait. Six of them took each side, whisking the massive thing open as if they were opening a bedroom door, and the rest began pouring out into the snow.

Kordas followed, as more Dolls streamed out of the gate, passing him in their eagerness to get to—well, whatever it was. He couldn’t see what it was through the crowds of Dolls. In fact, even when they stopped hurrying past him, he couldn’t see what it was they were now crowded around.

He could certainly feel it, though. Power, raw power: power that was to the power of the ley-lines that the power of a wild river is to a millstream, the kind that he knew would scorch his mage-sight if he wasn’t careful. Power he had only felt once before, and that had been—

—at the Imperial Palace—

—in the Chamber of the Beast.

Surely not . . .

Slowly, cautiously, he made his way toward the creature, getting glimpses of what looked like rock between the Dolls that were crowded around it in a massive group embrace. Finally he spotted Rose, her cheek pressed up against the thing, as heat radiated off of it, melting the snow down to the bare ground. “Rose!” he exclaimed. “Rose! It’s Kordas!”

It took her a moment to respond. It was as if she was lost in some kind of reverie.

“Yes, Baron?” she asked.

“Is this the young Earth Elemental from the Imperial Palace?” he asked, hesitantly putting his hand out to touch the surface. After all, if the Dolls were embracing it, it was probably safe to touch.

Beneath his hand it was smooth, polished. Not a mirror-polish like you could get on marble; more like water-polished granite. And it was very warm; almost, but not quite, too hot to touch.

How do you talk to an Earth Elemental? he wondered. This was not something that had ever come up in his magic lessons. Magicians were wise to steer clear of Elementals, even the small and relatively harmless ones like vrondi. There was too much potential for harm—usually harm to the magician injudicious enough to try interfering with them.

Harm on both sides, actually, now that I think about it. Look what happened to our poor vrondi.

“Yes, Baron,” Rose confirmed. “It is.”

The Earth Elemental began to vibrate. Then a sound came from it. At first it sounded like millstones grinding together, but gradually the sound changed, first to something like the earth groaning beneath intolerable stress, then increasing in pitch until he began to make out—words?

“Uhhherrr,” it said. “Aahherrr. Saaa. Saaaveerr. Saver.”

“Saver?” he replied, confounded.

“Yessssssss.” It paused. “Mamaaa saaaaaay. Thaaaank. Thank Saver.”

And he was almost overwhelmed for a moment as magical power surged into him—not like getting hold of a ley-line that was too strong, but more like something being poured carefully into him until his reserves were completely topped up, and then a little more, somehow expanding his reserves to hold more. He hadn’t even known that was possible!

“Thank Saver. Good Saver. Thank vrondi. Good vrondi.”

Now instead of power, the Elemental radiated emotion, and one he certainly recognized.

Gratitude. Gratitude so sweet, simple, and heartfelt that he found himself sobbing, pressing up against the “little” Elemental, cheek to the warm stone, as the Dolls were doing.

“Good. Good. Good,” it crooned. “Mama say thank. Me say thank. Thank good Saver. Thank good vrondi.”

Something deep inside him broke like a dam, and all the regret, the guilt, the fear, the anguish over all the things he had not done, or had done but had not done well, came flooding out to be engulfed in that sea of gratitude. He sobbed, not brokenly, but in response to that gratitude. As if he was being given forgiveness for every one of his blunders, for lives lost that he had not saved, for so many things he had left undone.

He was not at all sure how long he stood there among the Dolls, arms spread wide, pressed against the surface of the Elemental, lost in a wordless haze of gratitude and forgiveness and salvation, sobbing and being comforted. It was a while, though, maybe as much as half a mark, before he finally dropped his arms, resting only his right hand on the surface of the Elemental, feeling healed again, healed of wounds he had not even realized had been suppurating away inside of him.

He blinked, and looked back over his shoulder, over the heads of the Dolls who surrounded him. It appeared that they all had an audience. He spotted Sai and Jonaton and waved at them over the heads of the Dolls. They made their way to him, as the Dolls shifted to let them through.

“Futtering felines,” Sai said mildly, though his eyes were very wide. “Is this a Deep Earth Elemental? The same one that the Yellow Toad was torturing for power?”

“Yessssss,” said the Elemental, before Kordas could answer. “Mama say, go thank Saver. Go help Saver. So I go. Hard to find. Vrondi help.”

Kordas had often heard the saying “and his jaw dropped,” but he had never seen it happen. Until now, that is, as both Sai and Jonaton stared, first at him, then at the Elemental, then back again, their mouths agape.