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Lydia glanced from one elf to the other, then shrugged. “We didn’t expect things to be easy, did we?” Bending to examine the ground, the woman gave a soft laugh of triumph. “Maybe there aren’t any clear magical traces, but at least there is a physical track. See, here’s where Charina’s palfrey bolted back to its stable. But here ... these are the tracks of a different horse. Bigger ... heavier ... maybe a destrier?” She swung lithely back into the saddle. “It has to be the horse the kidnapper was riding. Look, the tracks are faint enough as they are. Let’s get going before something destroys them altogether.”

As the small party rode on out of field into scrubland then forest, following an overgrown trail that must originally have been cut by woodsmen, Kevin wondered bitterly if he really was the leader. Lydia was doing the tracking, and the two elves had their magic to help them, while he—he was nothing but an untried bardling who didn’t even know about—

Hey, wait a minute! “Naitachal?”

The Dark Elf had pushed back his hood as soon as the first trees had screened off the sun—His fair hair gleamed, startling bright against the darkness of skin and clothing, as he brought his horse up beside Kevin’s. “Yes?”

Naitachal’s eyes, disconcertingly, glinted red in the dim light, sending echoes of every eerie tale he’d ever heard flashing through Kevin’s mind. Don’t be stupid! he scolded himself. He’s an ally. For now, anyhow. “Were you in the castle when the groom’s body was brought in?”

“1 was,” Naitachal said softly. “And yes, I did ask to be allowed to examine it”

Eliathanis’ keen elf ears caught that murmur. “To work your spells on it, you mean!”

The Dark Elf smiled without rancor. “Exactly. I have been well trained in the sorceries that can draw back the dead. One would think Count Volmar would have been anxious to learn anything that might have helped him recover his niece. And yet I was refused.”

“Not surprising,” the White Elf snapped. “He didn’t want anything tainted by Darkness in his castle.”

“Ah, my touchy cousin-elf, you don’t understand. One would also think the groom would have been buried with honor, having died defending his lady. But there was no public burial, and even I have no idea what became of his body.”

Odd, Kevin admitted to himself uneasily, very odd.

But before he could continue chat thought, a small, shrill voice called out:

“Here you are! It cook you long enough!”

With a laugh, Lydia reined in her horse. “Well, forgive me, Tich’ki! You knew it was going to take some time! I went as fast as I could.”

“A fairy!” Kevin cried.

“A human!” the fairy mocked in return. “My, my, what a clever little boy!”

The bardling tried in vain not to stare. As with all her kind, Tich’ki was small, barely coming up to his horse’s knee. She was undeniably female, an adult woman other kind, almost beautiful in a sharp-edged, predatory wild creature way. Her bright, sharply slanted eyes, green as those of a White Elf, seemed enormous in her triangular face, her hair was caught up in a tangle of auburn braids, and even her iridescent wings seemed to have a predatory glint to them, like those of a dragonfly.

She was, if half the stories about her kind were true, just as likely to stab a human with that gleaming little spear she bore as talk to one—

That didn’t seem to bother Lydia. I never heard of any human making friends with a fairy, Kevin thought. But friends they did seem to be, or at least acquaintances. “We’re off on an adventure,” the warrior woman said.

“No-o,” Tich’ki drawled, “really? I drought you were just out for a ride in the woodland.” Her green gaze sharpened. “With a White and Dark Elf together, no less. So, Lydia? Are you going to give me a hand up?”

“You—you’re going with us?” Kevin asked, then had to hold fast to his startled horse’s reins as Tich’ki darted upward in a blur and buzz of wings, landing lightly behind the warrior woman—

“You going to stop me?”

“ No, no, of course not It’s just ... well ... I never knew one of your people to be friendly with one of mine.”

“No, and you’re not likely to again.”

Lydia laughed. “Tich’ki and me, we’re a lot alike. Don’t like staying cooped up in one place too long. I first met her when she was pinned down by a hunting hound.”

“And I saved you later from the angry hunters.” Tich’ki gave the woman a sharp little pinch. “So don’t go getting all superior.” She squirmed about to stare at Kevin with her hard green gaze—”That’s it, boy. Lydia and me, we sometimes travel together. But don’t think because I tolerate her, I have a love for all you humans.”

“Ah.” For a fairy to be out on her own like this, travel lust or no, could only mean she’d been cast out from her people—possibly for associating with a mere human. Not knowing what else to say, Kevin stammered, “Uh, welcome to our group. We’re searching for the niece of—”

“I know all that!” Tich’ki said impatiently, wings stirring. “I have every bit as strong a scrying talent as those hulking elf-men. The only reason I wasn’t up there in that castle with you is because I didn’t want to get stepped on by some clumsy lout of a human.”

More likely, Kevin thought, the humans wouldn’t let such a perilous little creature in!

Tich’ki settled herself more comfortably sidesaddle behind Lydia, folding her wings, too small to ride astride. “I want to find out what happened to that simpering little girl, too.”

“She doesn’t simper!” Kevin said hotly, then stopped short at Tich’ki’s sly grin. Too late, he remembered another nasty little trait about fairies: they delighted in tormenting humans, one way or another. And I fell right into her trap.

“Now we are five,” Naitachal murmured wryly. Tich’ki glared. “And you’ll be glad of it. Dark Elf! All right, enough of this. Let’s go!”

As they rode deeper into the forest, dense brush all but engulfed the trail, forcing them to ride single file. Thick canopies of leaves shut out more and more of the tight. At last, surrounded by dim green twilight, Lydia swore under her breath and dismounted, peering at the ground in disgust “Damn.”

“What’s wrong?” Kevin asked. “You’ve lost the track?”

“No, no, the track’s still there—I just can’t see it in all this gloom.”

“A torch—”

“Torches flicker too much, create too many distorting shadows.” She glanced up at the elves. “One of you give me some nice, steady light”

Eliathanis hesitated, then admitted reluctantly, “I can’t I’m a warrior, not a magician. The only magic I possess is that innate to my race.”

“No light-spells, eh? Tich’ki, I know you don’t have any, either.”

The fairy shrugged. “Can’t know everything. Better things to do with my time than waste it studying spells.”

A fairy who wasn’t too much of a magician? Kevin had never heard of such a thing. Maybe that was why she’d been cast out by her people.

Lydia was turning to Naitachal. “What about you, Dark Elf?”

Naitachal’s eyes glinted eerily in the darkness. “My people have no need for tight-spells.”

“Oh, great.” Lydia got to her feet. “Might as well make camp, then. We’re not going anywhere.”

“Wait” Heart racing, Kevin took out his lute, tuning it carefully. One of the magical songs his Master had taught him was known as the Watchwood Melody, and its purpose was to create tight “I don’t know if this is going to work, but ...”