Once they reached the Fartherness, the elves burned their ships, severing all contact with their former life. They turned their backs on the sea and looked inland. Lenthan’s great-great grandfather had been one of the few willing to explore the new territory to the vars and, in doing so, came across ornite, the navigational stone that was to make his fortune.[27] Using the stone, he was able to return to the Fartherness. He informed the elves of his discovery, and offered jobs to those willing to venture into the wilderness. Equilan had started out as a small mining community. It might have remained no more than that, but for the development of the human realms to the vars. The humans of what was now known as Thillia traveled there, by their own account, through a passage that led beneath the Terinthian Ocean. King George the Only—the father of the five brothers of legendary fame—led his people to this new land, supposedly running from a terror, whose name and face had been lost in the past.
Elves are not a race who must constantly expand. They feel no driving urge to conquer other people, to gobble up land. Having established a hold on Equilan, the elves had all the land they wanted. What they needed was trade-The elves welcomed the humans who, in turn, were extremely pleased to acquire elven weapons and other goods. As tune went by and the human population grew, they were less happy about the elves taking up so much valuable land on their sorinth border. The Thillians tried to expand norinth, but ran into the SeaKings—a fierce warrior people who had crossed the Sea of Stars during a time of war in the Kasnar Empire. Farther norinth and est were the dark and gloomy strongholds of the dwarves. By this time, the elven nation had grown strong and powerful. The humans were weak, divided, and dependent on the elves. The Thillians could do nothing but grumble and regard their neighbor’s land with envy.
As for the dwarves, Lenthan knew little, except that it was said that they had been well established in their kingdoms, long before his grandfather’s time.
“But where did you all come from originally?” Haplo had asked. He knew the answer, but was curious to see what, if anything, these people knew about the Sundering, hoping such information might give him a clue to the whereabouts and doings of the Sartan. “I mean, way, way, way back in time.” Lenthan had launched into a long and involved explanation and Haplo soon became lost in the complex myths. It depended on who you asked, apparently. Among the elves and humans, creation had something to do with being cast out of paradise. Orn-only-knew-what the dwarves believed in.
“What’s the political situation in the human realm?” Lenthan had looked downcast. “I’m afraid I really can’t tell you. My son is the explorer in the family. Father never thought I was quite suited—”
“Your son? Is he here?” Haplo had glanced about, wondering if the elf might be hiding in a closet—which, considering this wacky household, might not be at all unusual. “Can I talk to him?”
“Paithan. No, he’s not here. Traveling in the human realm. He won’t be back for some time, I’m afraid.”
All of this had been little help to Haplo. The Patryn was beginning to feel that his mission here was a lost cause. He was supposed to foment chaos, make it easy for his lord to step in and take over. But on Pryan, the dwarves asked nothing more than to be let alone, the humans fought each other, and the elves supplied them. Haplo didn’t stand much chance of urging the humans to war against the elves—it’s difficult to attack someone who’s providing you with the only means you have of attacking. No one wanted to fight the dwarves—no one wanted anything the dwarves had. The elves couldn’t be stirred to conquest, apparently because the word simply wasn’t in their vocabulary. “Status quo,” Lenthan Quindiniar had said. “It’s an ancient word meaning … well … ‘status quo.’” Haplo recognized the word and knew what it meant. Unchanging. Far different from the chaos he’d discovered (and helped along) in Arianus. Watching the bright lights shining in the sky, the Patryn grew more annoyed, more perplexed. Even if I manage to stir up trouble in this realm, how many more realms am I going to have to visit to do the same thing? There could be as many realms as … as there are shining lights in the sky. And who knows how many more beyond that? It might take me a lifetime just to find all of them! I don’t have a lifetime. And neither does My Lord.
It didn’t make sense. The Sartan were organized, systematic, and logical. They would never have scattered civilizations around at random like this and then left them to survive on-their own. There had to be some unifying something. Haplo didn’t have a due, at this moment, how he was going to find it. Except possibly the old man. He was crazy, obviously. But was he crazy as a gatecrasher[28] or crazy as a wolfen? The first meant he was harmless to everyone except perhaps himself, the second meant he needed to be watched. Haplo remembered his mistake in Arianus, when he’d thought a man a fool who had turned out to be anything but. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again. He had a lot of questions about the old man. And as if thinking of him had conjured him (as occasionally happened in the Labyrinth), Haplo looked up to discover Zifnab looking down.
“Is that you?” came the old man’s quavering voice. Haplo rose to his feet, brushing off bits of moss.
“Oh, no, it isn’t,” said Zifnab in disappointment, shaking his head.
“Still”—he peered closely at Haplo—“I seem to remember looking for you, too. Come, come.” He took hold of Haplo’s arm. “We’ve got to take off—Go to the rescue! Oh, dear! Nice Doggie. N—nice doggie.”
Seeing a stranger accost its master, the dog left off its pursuit of nonexistent game and dashed over to confront live quarry. The animal stood in front of the wizard, bared its teeth, and growled menacingly.
“I suggest you let go of my arm, old man,” advised Haplo.
“Uh, yes.” Zifnab removed his hand hastily. “Fine … fine animal.” The dog’s growls ceased, but it continued to regard the old man with deep suspicion.
Zifnab felt in a pocket. “I had a milk bone in here a few weeks ago. Left over from lunch. I say, have you met my dragon?”
“Is that a threat?” Haplo demanded.
“Threat?” The old wizard seemed staggered, so completely taken aback that his hat fell off. “No, of … of course not! It’s just that … we were comparing pets …” Zifnab lowered his voice, glanced around nervously. “Actually, my dragon’s quite harmless. I’ve got him under this spell—”
“Come on, dog,” said Haplo in disgust, and headed for his ship.
“Great Gandalf’s ghost!” shouted Zifnab. “If he had a ghost. I doubt it. He was such a snob … Where was I? Yes, rescue! Almost forgot.” The old man gathered up his robes and began running along at Haplo’s side. “Come on! Come on! No time to waste. Hurry!”
His white hair stood up all over his head, his beard stuck out in all directions. Zifnab clashed past Haplo. Looking back, he put his finger to his lips. “And keep it quiet. Don’t want him”—he pointed downward, grimacing—“along.”
Haplo came to a halt. Crossing his arms over his chest, he waited with some amusement to see the old man come crashing up against the magical barrier the Patryn had established around his vessel. Zifnab reached the hull, laid a hand on it. Nothing happened.
“Hey, stay away from there!” Haplo broke into a run. “Dog, stop him!”
The dog sped ahead, flying over the mossy ground on silent paws, and caught hold of the old man’s robes just as Zifnab was attempting to climb up over the ship’s rail.
“Get back! Get back!” Zifnab flapped his hat at the dog’s head. “I’ll turn you into a piglet! Ast a bula—No, wait. That turns me into a piglet. Unhand me, you beast!”
“Dog, down,’ ordered Haplo, and the dog obediently dropped to a sitting position, releasing the old man, keeping a watchful eye on him. “Look you, old man. I don’t know how you managed to break through my magic, but I’m giving you fair warning. Stay off my ship—”
27
Without any means to navigate, exploration was extremely hazardous because the odds were slim that a person leaving one place would ever find his way back to it.
28
Labyrinth takes its toll on those imprisoned there. Those Patryns who are driven insane by the hardships are known as “gatecrashers” due to the peculiar form the madness took, leading all its victims to run blindly into the wilderness, imagining that they have reached the Last Gate.