The Roilden Stones of Elf Mountain

The Roilden Stones

of Elf Mountain

Anna del C. Dye

This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described here are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and do not represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher.

The Roilden Stones of Elf Mountain

All Rights Reserved.

Copyright © 2014 Anna del C. Dye

V1.0

Cover Art by Lois Moore

Illustrations by Kevin Mura

This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

www.annadelc.com

ISBN 13: 978-1495446771

ISBN 10: 1495446778

All Rights Reserved USA

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

Other books by Anna del C. Dye:

The Silent Warrior Trilogy:

The Elf and the Princess

Trouble in the Elf City

Elfs in a Conquered Realm

Curse of the Elfs

A Royal Elf of Abalon

Shahira & the Flying Elfs

And available only as an e-book:

Emerine’s Nightmare

Liberty … or Monarchy?

Should the wisest of races choose such a path, or return to the traditional council? Their queen has lost the Roilden Stones of Elf Mountain to a power-hungry wizard. After all, one can be deceived, but twenty?

With the stones missing, a fatal drought grips Andoriah, the new elfin home. Death to all is imminent. Who will retrieve the Stones when the Gold Elfs won’t act? Will heroes arise before Andoriah burns in eternal fire?  Can the missing elf queen and her daughter be found?

The Roilden Stones of Elf Mountain is the long awaited prequel, and final installment in Anna del C.’s elf series. Discover the Elfs, an eternal race who chose to live in a world of woes away from their motherland. Love them, feel their pain and their happiness in a land that will test the core of their beliefs and bravery. Written in the genre of The Lord of the Rings and the Shannara series, The Roilden Stones of Elf Mountain comes alive with battles, heroism, action and romance.

Excerpts from a review by Samantha Weck:

…There was a lot of action in this book and I loved it. There was never a time where I was bored at all. I couldn’t put the book down. … I loved the characters. I found them so interesting and entertaining. I loved the interactions between them. It was just so easy to get into the flow of the characters. … I have to say I highly recommend this book if you are a fantasy fan. Especially if you love the Hobbit or books like that. I am so happy I was able to review the book.

I would like to thank my editor Shauna Dansie, for her insights, my artist Lois Moore, (cover illustration) Kevin Mura (chapter drawings) for their beautiful works of art.

And most of all, I thank my hubby who has always believed and encouraged my imagination.

Thank you to all my fans and readers of my books, for your support and faith in me.

Chapter One

Conflict

Now, came the elfin cry.

Arland jumped from the top of a hill and landed with a thud on the back of the light-brown rock creature that had come alive as soon as Arland cried the alarm.

His elf friend, Riften, jumped in front of the same creature and stabbed it with his sword. Before the creature could react to its wound and crush the life from him, it had disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Only three to go. Arland’s use of the elfin language was flawless. As the only son of the leader of the Brown Elfs, he had been instructed from his youth in the lore and language of his kin.

He tumbled over his head and landed on his feet, just a breath later, in front of another rock creature. This one tried to hit him with a massive hand, but in one swift move, Arland ducked and climbed the creature’s craggy arm to stab it in the neck.

Watch it, Zolma, he cried, as his third elf friend fell to the ground from the evaporated shoulders of another creature and rolled to his feet a moment later. Between the three travelers, they now had surrounded the last creature in their path. The creature looked at them with slow movements, for it too was made of stone and had great weight. Before it could dissolve like its friends, its dusty, dark eyes grew big.

Get inside the cave before more of them find us. Arland was the leader of this quest and had asked his two best friends, Zolma and Riften, to accompany him.

I am glad rock monsters are not sharp-witted, or they would have called for help, said Riften, the tall, hazel-eyed elf.

Still, the look in its eyes before it died … do ye think they have feelings? asked Zolma.

Creatures that are magically made cannot act or feel like an elf, answered Arland.

And even if they did, added Riften, they work for the wizard who is killing Andoriah, our new home, and all that is alive in this world. Feelings or not, we have to get the Stones or watch our people die in this faraway land.

Their plan called for the swift and silent steps of the elfs to enter the maze of caves to which they had tracked Bogeum, the wizard.

Do ye all have yer pollen? asked Arland.

His friends nodded.

Using it, we will not enter the caves we have already searched, Riften said. Just touch the pollen with your finger and place it on the wall, high up, like this.

Ye are right. I can see it as if by day, murmured Zolma.

Yet it should be invisible in the dark cave to the wizard or his monsters, Riften reminded them.

Once the tunnels forked, they separated and marked the caves, one by one, when they found nothing in them.

On the morning of the third day, Arland heard quiet voices from a branch of the maze not yet investigated. He also saw a light at the end of it. He drew an arrow on the wall and followed it.

‘So here is where ye hide yerself, Bogeum,’ he thought. ‘It befits ye well. Like a weasel, ye live in a hole of the very earth ye try to kill.’

He studied the lighted place. A chair stood next to a small table with papers all over it, both in rolls and laying flat. A soft cot occupied one corner. The walls were cold and damp. If not for his elfin eyes, the place would be dark and dreary indeed. A man and a rock creature stood with their backs toward him. He retraced his steps to the main corridor to wait for his friends.

After too long for his taste, Arland realized that his friends could be anywhere in the maze. How could he get them to come? When they were children, they had called each other by imitating a bird song. He placed his fingers, just as his father had taught him, and blew only once.

Noise there, came a raspy voice.

The rock monsters were back, and in the same corridor as he. Even worse, his friends would probably be there in any minute.

Go there, the scratchy voice of the rock creature commander instructed. You that way. You here. Check, look and come back.

‘No good. I have brought the creatures’ attention to us. And now it will be harder to move around the caves.’

To Arland’s bemusement, the captain stayed put, slowly turning and looking about at the fork where he hid.

Riften’s hazel eyes appeared warily over the top of a rock. When the rock captain turned another way, Arland pointed at the arrow he had placed on the wall. Riften’s eyes followed his finger until suddenly they lit up. At the same time, a small sound, only perceivable to an elf’s ears, came from the labyrinth to the left.

Zolma’s long, cream-colored hair peeked from the opening, followed by his light-green eyes. He signaled that he would charge the captain. Arland motioned for him to wait.

When the captain turned away from the elf friends, the three charged. Soon his smoke was all that remained.

I am glad ye are here, Arland told them. I have found Bogeum’s room.

They followed him down the tunnel to the right.

We should explore and see if we can find the Stones, Riften said.

If we spy on the wizard, he may indicate where they are, Arland suggested.

They stopped at a big rock by the entrance to the wizard’s cave. Bogeum continued talking with a rock monster, unaware of the extra ears listening to their conversation.

I need to make more giants, the wizard said. I keep losing them to those meddling elfs. I need to find more material to make an army, perhaps.

He added an empty bottle to the knapsack in his hand.

I would send you, he said offhandedly, but you don’t know the difference between dust and the powder I need.

The wizard wagged his finger at the chest of his captain, If I don’t have the right stuff, who knows what I will end up with? … More mindless creatures like you, I suppose.

A sound, like high-pitched, scraping rocks, came from the rock monster in front of the elfs.

As if on second thought, Bogeum stopped and turned, right next to the rock where the elfs hid, and said, Remember, no matter what happens, no one is to enter this room.

As the elfs stared, the monster asked, Why?

There are three very special Stones on that wall, and I don’t want them lost. He pointed at a wall that bore many stone shelves full of bottles of different shapes.

I’ll guard them with my life, the captain said.

You’d better, retorted Bogeum, for I’ll kill you, if you lose them.

The cracks that served as the captain’s eyes grew larger, but the line that made up his mouth never moved.

The elf threesome waited for the wizard to leave. Then, one of them followed him to the tunnel’s fork to make sure he was gone.

Now is the best time to get the Stones, Arland murmured when they were together again.

The Stones are on the north wall, Zolma said, among those bottles with different colored powders.

We need time to search, and that creature is on guard, Riften whispered.

Time is of the essence. Dispose of it now, Arland said, and they rushed toward the mud-colored creature with their swords drawn.

Come, we have a job to do, the leader said, when the puff of smoke was no more.

Bogeum cannot change the color or size of the Stones of Power, Arland reminded them.