Tall figures emerged from among the trees all around, slender and lithe, beautiful but somehow terrifying, like the splendor of a firestorm or a whirlwind. They walked like royalty, slow and stately, but he saw swords, spears, and wands in their hands, caution etched on their faces. Their eyes were pearly orbs of swirling colors, unmarked by pupil or iris, seeming to glow in the twilight.
“Valatharanni, usharan, ka halatha na-dravanni kelos dar ben.” It was a woman’s voice, right at his shoulder, soft as silk but clear in its threat. The language sounded similar to the tongue of the Aereni, but his knowledge of Elven was fragmentary, and this was beyond him. He spread his empty hands away from his body and shook his head.
“Your name,” the voice at his shoulder demanded, now in heavily accented Common. “And why you are here. Tell us.”
“Aunn-my name is Aunn.” He felt clumsy beside these graceful folk, and his voice was rough from disuse, grating against their melody. “I’m trying to reach Greenheart.”
“Why?” Her voice was a dagger held at his throat.
“To warn them-I should warn you. Barbarians are massed in the Demon Wastes, ready to spill over the mountains and raze the forest.”
He saw no surprise on the faces of the people around him, though their expressions were grim.
“Travelers are not our enemies, Aunn,” the woman behind him said. “We are just… dravan… cautious. Join our feast, as our guest.”
Aunn ate-sweet fruit, salted nuts, greens, roots, and roasted mushrooms, all of it delicious. Some part of him suspected it only tasted so good because he’d eaten nothing but journeybread and the rough food of the Ghaash’kala for so long, because he could never have imagined that a meal free of meat and grains could be so flavorful. He drank their ethereal wine, like drinking pure air that made his head swim. The eladrin, as they called themselves, welcomed him into their midst.
The woman who had stood behind him and invited him to the feast stayed distant throughout the meal. She was stunning-every time his gaze fell on her, her beauty struck him like a gust of wind, drawing the breath out of his lungs. She alone of all the eladrin had black hair, like the wings of a raven, and her eyes were smooth mirrors of pearl and green. As the night stretched on, she took in the radiance of the fey lamps and shed it from her skin, glowing in a nimbus of light.
The other eladrin who reclined on soft couches around Aunn were fair-skinned-pale was not the right word, he thought, for skin that seemed so healthy and alive. Their hair was various shades of silver, gold, and white, though a few were a more humanlike blond or very light brown. Their eyes shone blue, violet, and green, milk white, or liquid gold.
In choosing his new persona’s appearance, Aunn had strived for an aura of nobility-but among the eladrin, he felt like a baboon. They held cups made of leaves in their slender hands, and it was all he could do to keep from crushing his own cup. They reclined languorously on their couches, and he could not get comfortable. He felt all angles and rough edges compared to their smooth and graceful curves.
He would have been content to lie back and watch these folk and listen to their melodious voices, slipping freely between speech and song, but they plied him with questions, some of them speaking in fluent Common, others stumbling over the unfamiliar words. He told them he came from Aundair, that he worked for the queen-tantamount to admitting he was a Royal Eye-and he thought later that he might have admitted he was a changeling. They showed no surprise, and their attitude toward him didn’t change. He told them all he could about Kathrik Mel and his horde, and he wept as he spoke of Maruk Dar’s fall. He described Vor’s death, and then Durrnak’s, and he confessed his guilt and described what he thought might be his redemption. He told them of his dreams, his battle with the fiend in the Labyrinth, his surrender to… to Dania, in his vision, to Kalok Shash or the Silver Flame or the Traveler, he wasn’t sure.
He had never spoken so freely or felt so deeply. The eladrin could move from laughter to tears in a moment’s time. Their anger was almost palpable, like a charge in the air, and their joy made the lights shine brighter. In their midst, Aunn’s passions and emotions took hold of him, carrying him in their currents, surging strong to break free of the tight reins of his control. All his discipline, his lifetime of training under Kelas’s firm hand, came to nothing.
When he tried to turn the questions back on them, they gave evasive answers and shot back new questions of their own. They had him outnumbered, so every time he finished an answer another eladrin asked a new question, keeping him on the defensive, never allowing him an opening.
Dawn’s approach brought the feast to an end. The globes of light drifted off and vanished among the trees, and the eladrin followed, one by one. Sadness gripped Aunn’s heart as he watched them go, and the journey ahead of him seemed long and hard. If they would let him, he thought he might stay among them forever.
As the last of his dinner companions said farewell and drifted away, Aunn looked up to find the raven-haired woman standing over him. “Walk with me,” she said, and she offered a perfect hand to help him stand.
Her touch was cool, exhilarating as autumn dawn. Her beauty took his breath away, but her touch restored it, washing away the fatigue of the long night and the long journey behind him. When she withdrew her hand, he thought he might never be able to draw enough breath.
“Wh-what is…” he stammered. “May I ask your name?”
Her laugh was the stirring of dry leaves on the ground. “Marelle,” she said, and she walked on in silence.
“Your people-are you related to the elves of Aerenal?”
“Distant cousins, you might say.”
A panic seized him as he remembered his mission. “Kathrik Mel-you should flee, you can’t hope to stand against him!”
She stopped then, turned to him with the slightest smile, and put a hand on his cheek. “Listen,” she said, and he could hear nothing but her voice. “The barbarians can not harm us. But there is more here than the barbarians. More than our people and your nation. The Harath-Vadrema-the Secret-Keeper calls, and his people answer. His power flows into the world. If not stopped, soon he will be free. Go. Warn your nation. Raise their armies to fight the barbarians. But be careful that they don’t use weapons more terrible than their foe.”
Aunn blinked, utterly uncomprehending. His cheek burned when she pulled her cool hand away, but her cryptic words were inscribed in his memory.
“Farewell,” she said. “You stand at the edge of the Eldritch Grove. Lake Galifar is to the west, the Blackcaps to the south.”
Aunn gaped. “I’m in Aundair?” That was impossible-the Eldritch Grove was over a month’s journey from the Shadowcrags.
Marelle shook her head. “There is more here than your nation, Aunn.” She took two steps backward, and with the third step she was gone.
CHAPTER 39
Come in, Kelas.”
Kelas pushed open the door and strode into the warm room. After weeks encamped in the miserable canyon, he was glad to be back in Fairhaven. He had teleported away from the Dragon Forge the day before, then spent the night in a soft bed, washed in hot water in the morning, and put on new clothes. He felt like himself again, prepared to play his part in the unfolding plot.
Thuel Racannoch sat in a comfortable chair, half turned away from the door, before a crackling fire. Kelas knew the appearance of comfort was an illusion-though he didn’t look at the door as Kelas entered, Thuel was perfectly aware of his movements and warded against any attack. The Spy Master of Aundair’s Royal Eyes did not take security lightly.