He stood with his back to the fire, breathing hard. With the blazing brand before him like a noble blade, the elf kept the darkness at bay. Gradually the incessant activity lessened. By the time Solinari rose above the trees, all was still.
After throwing the stump of the burned limb back on the dying fire, Kith-Kanan sat down again and faced the red coals. Like a thousand lonely travelers before him, the prince whistled a tune to keep the loneliness away. It was a tune from his childhood: “Children of the Stars.”
The chorus died when his lips went dry. He saw something that froze him completely. Between the black columns of two tree trunks were a pair of red staring eyes.
He tried to think what it could be. The possibilities were not good: wolf, bear, a tawny panther. The two eyes blinked and disappeared. Kith-Kanan jumped to his feet and snatched up a stone from the outside edge of his campfire. He hurled it at the spot where he’d last seen the eyes. The rock crashed into the underbrush. There was no other sound, Even the crickets had ceased their singing.
Then Kith-Kanan sensed he was being watched and turned to the right. The red eyes were back, creeping forward a foot or so off the ground, right toward him.
Darkness is the enemy, he suddenly realized. Whatever I can see, I can fight.
Scooping up a double handful of dead leaves, he threw them on the embers of the fire. Flames blazed up. He immediately saw a long, lean body close to the ground. The advance of the red eyes stopped, and suddenly they rose from the ground.
It was Anaya.
“I have spoken with the Forestmaster,” she said a little sulkily, her eyes glowing red in the light from the flames. “You said the truth.” Anaya walked sideways a few steps, never taking her eyes off Kith-Kanan. Despite this good news, he felt that she was about to spring on him. She dropped down on her haunches and looked into the fire. The leaves were consumed, and their remains sank onto the heap of dully glowing ashes.
“It is wise you laid a fire,” she said. “I called the Black Crawlers to watch over you while I spoke with the Forestmaster.”
He straightened his shoulders with studied nonchalance. “Who are the Black Crawlers?”
“I will show you.” Anaya picked up a dead dry branch and held it to the coals. It smoked heavily for an instant, then burst into flame. She carried the burning branch to the line of trees defining the clearing.
Kith-Kanan lost his hard-won composure when Anaya showed him what was waiting beyond the light.
Every tree trunk, every branch, every square inch of ground was covered with black, creeping things. Crickets, millipedes, leaf hoppers, spiders of every sort and size, earwigs, pill bugs, beetles up to the size of his fist, cockroaches, caterpillars, moths, flies of the largest sort, grasshoppers, cicadas with soft, pulpy bodies and gauzy wings…stretching as far as he could see, coating every surface. The horde was motionless, waiting.
Anaya returned to the fire. Kith-Kanan was white-faced with revulsion. “What sort of witch are you?” he gasped. “You command all these vermin?”
“I am no witch. This forest is my home, and I guard it closely. The Black Crawlers share the woodland with me. I gave them warning when I left you, and they gathered to keep you under watchful eyes.”
“Now that you know who I am, you can send them away,” he said.
“They have already departed. Could you not hear them go?” she scoffed.
“No, I couldn’t.” Kith-Kanan glanced around at the dark forest, blotting sweat from his face with his sleeve. He focussed his attention on the fascinating elf woman and blotted out the memory of the Crawlers. With her painted decorations, grime, and dyed deerskin, Kith-Kanan wasn’t sure how old Anaya might be, or even what she really looked like. She perched on her haunches, balancing on her toes. Kith-Kanan fed some twigs to the fire, and the scene slowly lightened.
“The Forestmaster says you are here to drive away the intruders,” Anaya said. “I have heard them, smelled them, seen the destruction they have caused. Though I have never doubted the word of the great unicorn, I do not see how you can drive anyone away. You are no ranger; you smell of a place where people are many and trees few.”
Kith-Kanan was tired of the Kagonesti’s casual rudeness. He excused it in Mackeli, who was only a boy, but it was too much coming from this wild woman.
“I am a prince of House Royal,” he said proudly. “I am trained in the arts of the warrior. I don’t know who or how many of these intruders there are, but I will do my best to find a way to get rid of them. You need not like me, Anaya, but you had better not insult me too often.” He leaned back on his elbows. “After all, who wrestled whom to the ground?”
She poked the dancing bowl of flames. “I let you take my knife away,” she said defensively.
Kith-Kanan sat up. “You what?”
“You seemed such a clumsy outlander, I did not think you were dangerous. I let you get the advantage to see what you would do. You could not have cut my throat with that flint blade. It was dull as a cow’s tooth.”
Despite his annoyance, Kith-Kanan found himself smiling. “You wanted to see if I was merciful, is that it?”
“That was my purpose,” she said.
“So I guess I really am a slow, dumb outlander,” he said.
“There is power in your limbs,” she admitted, “but you fight like a falling stone.”
“And I don’t breathe properly either.” Kith-Kanan was beginning to wonder how he had ever lived to the age of ninety, being so inept.
Mentioning breathing reminded the prince of Mackeli, and he told Anaya the boy still hadn’t returned.
“Keli has stayed away longer than this before,” she said, waving a hand dismissively.
Though still concerned, Kith-Kanan realized that Anaya knew Mackeli’s ways far better than he did. The prince’s stomach chose that moment to growl, and he rubbed it, his face coloring with embarrassment.
“You know, I am very hungry,” he informed her.
Without a word, Anaya went inside the hollow oak. She returned a moment later with a section of smoked venison ribs wrapped in curled pieces of bark. Kith-Kanan shook his head; he wondered where those had been hiding all these weeks.
Anaya dropped down by the fire, in her characteristic crouch, and slipped a slender flint blade out of her belt pouch. With deft, easy strokes, she cut the ribs apart and began eating.
“May I have some?” the prince inquired desperately. She promptly flung two ribs at him through the fire. Kith-Kanan knew nicety of manner was lost on the Kagonesti, and the sight of the meat made his mouth water. He picked up a rib from his lap and nibbled it. The meat was hard and tangy, but very good. While he nibbled, Anaya gnawed. She cleaned rib bones faster than anyone he’d ever seen.
“Thank you,” he said earnestly.
“You should not thank me. Now that you have eaten my meat, it is for you to do as I say,” she replied firmly.
“What are you talking about?” he said, frowning. “A prince of the Silvanesti serves no one but the speaker and the gods.”
Anaya dropped the clean bones in the fire. “You are not in the Place of Spires any longer. This is the wildwood, and the first law here is, you eat what you take with your own hands. That makes you free. If you eat what others give you, you are not a free person; you are a mewling child who must be fed.”
Kith-Kanan got stiffly to his feet. “I have sworn to help the Forestmaster, but by the blood of E’li, I’ll not be anyone’s servant! Especially not some dirty, painted savage!”
“Being a prince does not matter. The law will be done. Feed yourself, or obey me. Those are your choices,” she said flatly.
Anaya walked to the tree. Kith-Kanan grabbed her by the arm and spun her around. “What have you done with my sword and dagger?” he demanded.