Chapter 7: The Fall of Masetth

Cassandra didn’t remember dropping off, but suddenly she found herself on her back, shocked out of sleep, blinking sand from her eyes.

It was still dark – very dark; sunrise would not come for hours yet. Not even the blue fire of dawn had begun to fill the room, leaving the chill of night to persist.

She was disoriented. Despite her exhaustion from the adventure in Delosonasa that day, she had tossed and turned for hours, unable to rid her mind of the gyamesh. When she had finally managed to fall asleep, she had woken almost immediately from a nightmare in which a massive wall was opening wider and wider before her, spewing forth all manner of demons and creatures –

It was a noise that had awakened her this time – a sound that remained undefined, yet was capable of instilling considerable fear in her heart. Before she was even fully awake, her heart was racing to the beat of explosive sounds and ragged voices, muffled into growls.

She sat bolt upright in her bed, listening hard, heart pounding. Maybe Papa and Simon were still up and moving around in the house? But the candles had all been blown out – all save for the one that stood on the table beside Cassandra’s bed.

Thump. Thump.

There was the sound again, and now she there were others – the muffled sounds of chaos. Instantly, she thought of the gyamesh, and how Ummen had said something about more of them being spotted all over Elfland –

What’s happening?

She huddled down, drawing the furs up around her shoulders, shivering in the dark room. Fear made her cower, and yet she was exploding with nervous energy: the instinct to run, run, run, run so that she couldn’t be harmed was overpowering.

Close by the house, someone screamed.

Bang.

Thump. Thump.

Cassandra threw away her covers and fled the bedroom. She tore down the long hallway, arms and legs pumping, bare feet slapping the pine floors. Papa will know what to do –

She threw open the door to the master bedroom and ran inside, looking around wildly –

Papa’s bed was empty. The furs had been thrown to the floor, baring the feather mattress. Papa’s cloak and longbow were gone, as evidenced by the vacant corner where they normally resided.

“Papa?” she called softly, although she already knew that he wasn’t there. But if he wasn’t here, then where?

Simon.

Back into the hall, the first door on the right. She flung it open and bounded across the threshold to the big bed. Shouting his name, she began digging through the mountain of fur and blankets in search of her brother –

But the bed was empty. He was gone – just like Papa. She was alone in the big house.

Cassandra sank to the floor, feeling scared, cold, and lonely, but too old to cry.

They had left her! How could they? Papa was her hero – he had forever assured her he would never leave. And Simon too – after all he was her big brother, and it was a big brother’s job to protect his sister at all costs.

But then a new thought occurred to her, however unlikely, and as the sounds of undefined mayhem grew louder outside the house, it became the only logical alternative.

Maybe they needed her help! Maybe they were in trouble and were waiting for her to come save them –

Cassandra stood up quickly, her fear all but gone, but purpose cooling her heart. That simply had to be it: Papa and Simon were in trouble. It had something to do with whatever was going on outside, and now it was her job to rescue them. There could be no other reason for which they would leave her.

She started for the door –

crash

The window across Simon’s room exploded inward in a shower of sandy glass, raining crystal across the wooden floors.

With a squeak of fear, Cassandra dove beneath the bed, pulling the furs down to shield herself from view. She peered out anxiously, looking for whatever had broken the window. Papa would be furious: those glass windows had cost him a fortune.

She narrowed her eyes, squinting through the dark, looking for the intruder.

Nothing, no one.

But just when she thought the coast was clear, two booted feet appeared in front of the bed, large but noiseless. Cassandra let out an audible gasp and backed away, mentally crying out for Papa or Simon.

The feet stood still as the owner of them looked around the dark house. Now that the window had been smashed, the sounds from outside were louder than ever. Screams, shouts, whistles, and cries –

And what were those crackling noises?

The right foot took a step away from the bed, followed by the left. The footfalls were impeccably silent, and the intruder slipped out of the room without another sound.

Cassandra lay under the bed for a minute longer, listening to the commotion outside, her heart pounding.

Was there anyone else in the room? Was it safe to come out? What was going on?

Unable to remain still any longer, she crawled out from beneath the bed and hurried over to the door through which the shadowy intruder had exited. Cautiously, she poked her head out into the hallway, looking quickly up and down the shadowy length. The cost remained clear, so Cassandra swiftly made her way down towards the kitchen.

The room was empty when she peeked into the threshold, chilly because the front door stood partially ajar. The noises were louder than ever, much more frightening now that they had reached what seemed to be maximum volume.

Cassandra crept across the kitchen to the door, watching over her shoulder for any signs of the intruder. She felt the brass knob beneath her trembling fingers, and slipped outside into the cold night air without making a sound, shutting the door sharply behind her exit.

– and suddenly wished she had stayed in bed and not heard a thing.

It was chaos. It was a nightmare – worse than anything her dreams could have concocted.

The village was in flames – bright orange flames that glared angrily in the deep black of dead night, licking at the sky, far from satisfied with the streets of Masetth and desiring the heavens. Buildings everywhere were on fire, not to mention the surrounding foliage, and elves everywhere were fleeing for their lives, screaming, shouting –

But why would they run? They should just get water to put out the flames –

Cassandra looked around in dismay, searching the mass of moving bodies frantically. Where should she go? It certainly wasn’t safe to stay around here, even though their house remained untouched, and the rest of the elves were fleeing towards the woods for some reason –

And neither Papa nor Simon were anywhere in sight.

Kadu and Shala! Cassandra’s mouth fell open. They weren’t safe either –

An adult elf flashed past, aiming his bow over his shoulder.

Without thinking, she dove behind a barrel that had somehow ended up next to the front door to her home and watched in horror as two men dressed entirely in black descended on the elf from behind. There was a flash of cold steel and a spray of liquid blackness.

One of the black men had stabbed a knife deep into the elf’s chest.

Cassandra covered a scream with her hand, sobbing soundlessly. She had never seen death like this before. She had never known it to be so suddenand cold. It hadn’t been like that when Mama had died.

The two murderers were off, running in the direction of the town center almost before the elf they had killed had fallen to the ground.

Cassandra watched them disappear into the mass of bodies moving in all directions. And there were more – running between buildings, filling the streets, corralling the Masetth elves towards the market –

So the black men were the bad guys? Well then, she would just have to avoid them.

Swiping away tears, she darted from behind the barrel and swiftly made her way towards the town center as well, avoiding the dark lumps strewn everywhere – what she now knew to be dead bodies. Some were black men, but most were elves.

So much death… She felt contaminated by it, suffocated.

Smoke filled her lungs, the crackling tongues of fire assaulting her ears. She forced her way through the writhing crowd of elves, calling out for Simon and Papa –

The market was chaos, a flurry of activity. The streets were strewn with innumerable bodies. Armed elves had assembled in a circle, bristling with arrows and other weaponry to stop the advancing horde of black men –

And then Cassandra saw them: Simon and her Papa, standing tall in the middle of the paved square, fighting off the black men with the other elves, cutting them down as other elves fled in all directions. Some stayed to fight, but most were cut down by razor arrows from black men crouching low atop the surrounding buildings.

Cassandra tore down the lane of white–petal trees, all of which were now blazing with the village: wooden skeletons begging the sky for merciful rain.

Through a gap in the screaming crowd, she saw Simon stroke a black man across the neck with his shortsword, then fell another with a thrust through the chest. She had never seen her brother looking so fierce, and it both strengthened and terrified her –

She called his name at the top of her lungs, fighting to reach him –

He turned to find her voice –

– and his scarred face contorted, going from an expression of panic to one of purest shock. A black–fletched arrow had taken him through the chest – Cassandra could see the black tip poking through the left breast of his tunic, tenting the garb as blood streamed.

He toppled, falling amongst the bodies strewn around his feet.

“Simon!” Her throat raw, Cassandra took off into the fray. She dodged combating elves and black men and stumbled over bodies as she ran to her brother. He was okay – he had to be. He couldn’t be dead! She crashed to her knees next to his body and put her hands on his cheeks.

“Simon!” she screamed in his face, shaking his body as hard as she could. “Get up, get up, get up! Come on, we have to go! Please get up –”

But Simon continued to stare skyward, a tiny trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth. He would not rise – he couldn’t.

Cassandra covered her face with her hands, crying harder than ever before, heedless of the tears and snot drizzling from her cupped fingers. The grief was so painful she could barely stand it. Her family had effectively been halved: Mama, and now Simon. It was only her and Papa left –

Arrows whistled through the air. Flames continued to crackle. Voices shouted from all directions.

Strong arms suddenly grabbed her from behind, lifting her to her feet –

Papa’s rough voice came close to her ear. She felt his breath hot on her neck. “Cassie! Go! Follow the other elves – get out of Masetth!”

“Simon,” she gasped, turning to look up at her father.

“Go!” he screamed, pushing her away, wheeling around as a wall of black men advanced on the survivors, bows and swords raised high –

And crushed them, bowling bodies over even as swords swept through their ranks. Papa fell beneath the marching feet with fellow elves, slashing violently and screaming again and again, “Cassandra! Cassandra –!!”

Screaming herself, Cassandra turned and ran, unable to watch as the black men tore Papa apart, still hearing his throaty screams in her ears. She fled for all she was worth, crying and screaming to no one, not even knowing where she was going –

– and something grabbed her for a second time, wrenching her around, effectively stopping her in her tracks. A shout in Elvish, and then she was forcibly dragged backwards by her shoulders –

Struggling, she craned her neck to look over her shoulder.

– to look up into the emotionless eyes of one of the black men. Terror seized her so that she could not breathe, could not move, could not resist. She could see nothing of her captor’s features other than the carefully pointed ears poking out from beneath a dark facemask.

So they were elves too. Were they from the north?

Lean and muscular, the elf carried his bow over his shoulder and a quiver on his back. Numerous vials and canteens hung on a black belt around his waist, and he was bleeding from a slash across his upper arm.

Was this the one that had killed Simon?

Or Papa?

Instantly, Cassandra found her strength, and she fought back as the elf dragged her back towards the market. She kicked at his heels, twisting and squirming beneath the cold fingers that held her fast. “Let me go!”

The black elf laughed ruthlessly and spat at her in Elvish, amused by her struggles.

Cassandra brought the gloved hand to her mouth and bit down hard on the forefinger. The leather was bitter to the taste, but the blood she drew from his finger was almost sickeningly sweet.

The elf released her with a yelp of pain, then backhanded her across the forehead, sending her sprawling on the ground. But Cassandra barely felt the blow. All she realized was that she was free, and she was already up and running – fast –

She caught a myriad of Elvish curses hurled at her back as the elf closed quickly with his prey. Fingers ripped painfully at her hair: he was gaining –

“Cassie!”

Cassandra whipped her head around. “Kadu!” she screamed instinctively. “Kadu, help!!”

The boy spoke an oath in Elvish as he leapt out from behind an overturned cart and swung a broken tree branch as hard as he could. The staff connected solidly with the black elf’s masked forehead, knocking him off his feet. The assassin fell heavily on his back, moaned groggily, and lay still.

Cassandra collapsed to the ground as Kadu ran over to her, discarding the branch in the street. She couldn’t breathe: fear and grief had paralyzed her lungs more effectively than smoke and exertion.

“Are you okay?” Kadu demanded, sinking to a crouch in front of her.

She nodded, chest heaving. “Where’s Shala?” she gasped.

Kadu frowned, drawing his brows together sharply. His face was smeared with soot. “I don’t know. These vekudu are everywhere – they’re killing everyone. Where are your brother and father?”

The grief, muted during the frenzied pursuit, hit her like a tidal wave as Simon’s blank eyes flashed in her memory. Cassandra swiped tears from her eyes as they began to fall again. “Simon is dead. Papa… I don’t know… He, they…”

She felt so hopeless.

Kadu, however, nodded resolutely. For an elf–boy of barely thirteen summers – who had been petrified to touch a wall – he was certainly behaving like a grown elf–man now. He took Cassandra’s hand and pulled her to her feet.

“Come on, Cassie,” he said gently. “Let’s go.”

The two friends ran, hand–in–hand.

Their flight took them out of Masetth, up the hills towards the north. Night clung to the fields, and the breeze brought the scent of death and fire from the south. They fled beneath the dark bowers of the woods and kept going until they had no energy left to run. They collapsed on a grassy knoll, sheltered by a gnarled oak and shrubs. From this vantage point, they would be able to see the smoke rising from Masetth with the first morning light.

Kadu turned to Cassandra in the dark, breathing hard. “You sure you’re not hurt?”

Cassandra nodded mutely. Her eyes were still tearing, but the only hurt she felt was inside.

Kadu peered over the bushes, back the way they had come. “We’ll spend the night here. Tomorrow, we can go back and search for your father and Shala. Whether or not we find them, we’ll have to head for Delosonasa for help. We might get there in a day if we’re lucky.”

The plan was sound – the only one they had. Heading further inland towards Commune or Sterlin – the capital – would only increase their chances of being captured, assuming the black elves were bent on conquest of Elfland as a whole.

There was little more they could do.

Cassandra frowned suddenly, a new concern taking precedence. “What about your family, Kadu?”

He looked down at the ground, eyes flashing in the night. “They… they burned to death. I couldn’t stop it.” He chewed his lower lip for a long moment, obviously fighting to control tears.

So they were both alone now. Cassandra thought she should comfort him, but didn’t know what to say, so she kept her mouth firmly shut and instead sought his hand in the darkness. He grasped hers firmly when their fingers touched, saying nothing. The silence seemed to help them both, however – perhaps more effectively than any words could have.

They were kindred spirits: the grief they shared was simply a new bond forged between them.

For a long while – what felt like hours – they sat. They huddled close together in the brush, flinching at the slightest sound, watching the orange glow of the distant flames – visible as a corona adorning the rolling hills beyond the trees. There were no elves – good or otherwise – to be seen. The fields and woods were still: either the refugees had fled inland or they were hiding.

Or they were dead.

Finally, Cassandra spoke. “Kadu, I don’t know if we should wait until morning to look. What if it’s too late by then?”

Kadu brushed dark curls out of his eyes. It was much easier to see in the darkness, now that they had become accustomed to it. “I don’t know what we can do, Cassie – if we go back in there now, we’ll get caught for sure.”

She was angry, but not at him. “But if we don’t, then Shala and my Papa will! We can’t wait – we have to go now.”

Kadu swallowed hard and blew out a deep breath. “Okay. You’re right. Let’s go then – but quietly. Stay close.”

They stood and walked quickly down the knoll, back the way they had come. The woods were eerily silent – much more so than before. Maybe it was the sudden absence of commotion, or perhaps because they were so perfectly alone.

A call echoed beneath the trees, like an owl but strangled –

Kadu jumped, and his hand found Cassandra’s. As one, they whirled, searching the woods frantically for the source of the noise. Their breathing echoed noisily in the silence, ragged and painful in their raw throats.

Shadows were detaching themselves from the darkness, creeping closer as the call was echoed by three – perhaps five – more throats. The figures moved noiselessly – like wraiths, hunting, stalking.

Kadu’s hand tightened around Cassandra’s, and he murmured at her in Elvish, “Cassie, hychath.”

Cassandra, run!

Her first reaction was to comply, to run and run and never look back. Instead, she shook her head violently, grabbing his upper arm with her free hand and standing close. She could feel him trembling – almost as badly as she was.

She clung tighter, entwining her fingers around his.

There were five black elves, creeping closer, materializing as they stepped into the clearing and were bathed in moonlight. They circled tightly around the two children, impossibly tall and menacing. They said nothing – voiced no threats, no commands, no taunts.

Silence.

And then the closest one darted forward, almost faster than the eye could see, and grabbed Kadu by the tunic, forcibly ripping him away –

Cassandra reacted without thinking, springing forward and latching onto the elf’s waist before he could retreat back into the shadows. “Let him go!” she screamed, punching and slapping and clawing – doing whatever damage she possibly could do –

The elf spat something in his tongue, and suddenly there were hands around Cassandra’s waist, prizing her away. She struggled, flailing helplessly: her limbs were moving of their own accord because she was too terrified to consciously react –

“Cassie!” Kadu shouted, writhing in the elf’s embrace. He beat his small fists against the arms that held him with renewed fury. “Vekudu!! Togamthachi flau son tu bytrial!”

The black elf struggled with the flailing boy, then barked something to one of the others. That elf quickly reached into a pouch on his belt and withdrew a sharp sliver of steel, too thin to be a knife. Moonlight caught the edge and glinted off the silver surface.

Cassandra’s eyes widened in fear, and she struggled again. “Let me go!” she screamed, flailing violently. “Kadu!”

The elf that held her muttered something in her ear, but she couldn’t understand any words other than “wait”.

Without warning, the other elf stuck the metal splinter into Kadu’s arm. Instantly the boy screamed in pain and began writhing fitfully, but after a moment he went limp – effectively boneless.

Fear paralyzed Cassandra, robbed her of breath –

The elf with the needle turned to look at her as his fellow heaved Kadu’s limp body over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Abruptly, he reached up and pulled off his mask, shaking locks of sweaty hair from his pale silver eyes. His face was a gray to match, and his incisors were sharply pointed. He looked into Cassandra’s wild eyes and smiled calmingly.

“Don’t fear,” he said. His Man–Tongue was thick with Elvish accent.

Cassandra stopped struggling in surprise.

The gray–faced elf stroked her flushed cheek with a slender finger – devoid of warmth – and studied her face for a moment. Glancing up at his fellow – the one restraining her – he muttered something in Elvish. The other replied with a short sentence – including the word “now” – and then Gray–face plunged the needle into Cassandra’s left arm, inside her elbow.

Fire blazed up her limb from the point of entry, spreading through her body until she was numb from the burning heat that was evaporating the blood in her veins. Screaming, Cassandra fought and struggled as everything went blurry. The woods lost its contours, and trees were blending together in the dark –

Gray–face smiled again as her thrashing began to subside. His face was crawling, like something beneath the skin was rolling over.

She couldn’t think – she couldn’t move. She was going to die.

The elf reached out and brushed the sweaty curls from Cassandra’s face. She saw three of him, and two were upside–down. “Don’t fear,” he repeated softly, somehow miles away and fading rapidly.

– and the night swallowed everything.