"Yes. Not more than fifteen or twenty miles, I think," Araevin replied.
"Why is everything in a forest?" the genasi muttered to herself. "First the Ardeep, then the Trollbark, and now the Forest of Wyrms. I'm getting damned tired of trees."
"These are the places where the elven empires of long ago raised their cities and towers," Araevin replied. "The Ardeep was the heart of the ancient realm of Illefarn. The Trollbark was part of the realm of Miyeritar, which is what the High Moor used to be called before dark magic destroyed Miyeritar during the Crown Wars. In the long years since, the Trollbark has grown wild and savage, forgetful of the elves who once roamed its hills and valleys. Even the Reaching Wood and the Forest of Wyrms were part of the old realm of Shantel Othreier, which also fell during the Crown Wars."
"All this land was once forested," Ilsevele added. "A single great forest stretched from the Spine of the World to the Lake of Steam."
Maresa gave her a skeptical look. Grayth glanced at her as well.
"I knew the forests of the western lands were formerly much larger," the Lathanderite said, "But one single forest? What could have happened to it?"
"Vast reaches of the woodland were devastated in the ancient Crown Wars, or burned by dragons, or cleared during the rise of the human empires that followed the elven realms," Araevin answered.
"So the remaining forests mark the spots where the old elven realms once stood?" asked Grayth.
"Yes, but I believe that the forests remain because the elven realms were there, and not the other way around. My ancestors wove many great spells and sang powerful songs to strengthen and protect the woodlands they called home. Some small portion of that elven magic lingers still-strong in the Ardeep, almost forgotten in the Trollbark. As for the Forest of Wyrms, I am not yet sure."
Araevin closed his eyes and consulted the knowledge of the first telkiira. He could feel its sister close by, still east of them, but not far at all.
"This way," he said, and he led them beneath the mighty trees.
The Forest of Wyrms quickly proved to be a place of tremendous majesty. Its trees were mighty redwoods, each hundreds of feet tall and twenty feet thick or more. Along the streambeds and steeper hillsides smaller trees crowded closer, but for miles at a time it seemed that they rode through a great green-roofed cathedral, the noble silver trunks pillars holding up the sky. The air was cool and damp, with drifting mists clinging to the ground, and the rich, pungent smell of the wet wood hung in the air like incense.
Ilsevele rode close beside Araevin, her eyes wandering to the distant boughs above.
"This woodland is beautiful," she murmured to him in Elvish. "None of the People live here?"
"You forget the forest's name," he replied. "Many green wyrms and their young live here. They make poor neighbors."
"Is it wise to come here?"
"The dragons don't often come to the western reaches of the forest. Most of them understand that they do not want to make a name for themselves in Soubar. Far too many adventurers ride up and down the Trade Way, looking for dragons to slay. But the younger and more reckless dragons might be found anywhere. I have prepared a number of spells that might be useful against a green dragon, just in case."
Ilsevele nodded and said, "I think I will keep my eyes open."
She rode ahead a short distance and uncased her bow, resting it across her saddlebow beneath her hand.
Fortunately, they ran into no dragons for the rest of the day. The ride was surprisingly easy. The forest had little underbrush, and the terrain was not very rugged. Araevin could feel the second telkiira drawing closer with each step, but as darkness fell, they had found nothing. Araevin reluctantly called a halt, and they passed a nervous night camping in a small thicket near a stream, doubling up on their watches and using magic to conceal their camp and horses.
The following morning greeted them with patches of weak sunshine breaking through the overcast. They broke camp and continued eastward, climbing slowly into steeper hills as they went. But they only rode for an hour before Araevin suddenly reined in, his eyes narrowed.
"We're here," he called to the others.
Ahead of him, hidden below the trees, stood the small tower he'd seen in the vision granted by the telkiira, hoary with age and covered in creeping vines. Looking east into the patchy early morning sunlight, the forest shadow seemed black and impenetrable around the old building. Empty windows gaped blankly at the woods, and large portions of the rooftop had fallen inward.
Grayth rode up beside him and asked, "This is the place? Strange, it isn't elven. That's a human-built tower."
Araevin dismounted, taking his horse's reins in one hand. Grayth was right. The stonework was clearly not elven, and the tower had not been abandoned for all that long. Some of the wooden shakes of its pointed rooftop, and the roof of the adjoining house, still clung to the rafters.
Fifty years? he guessed. Perhaps a hundred? Why was an elven telkiira in such a place?
"It's not a watchtower, and I don't think it's a temple or shrine," Grayth said. He dismounted, too. "It has the look of a wizard's tower to me. Someone wanted a strong, safe house someplace out of the way, a place where he wouldn't be troubled by unwanted visitors. I wonder if the dragons got him?"
"We'll find out soon enough," Araevin said. "Let's find a safe place for the horses, and we'll have a look inside."
CHAPTER 9
14 Ches, the Year of Lightning Storms
They found a small thicket a spearcast from the tower, and led the horses inside the bramble patch. Araevin wove an illusory shelter to conceal the horses as best he could, just in case a dragon happened by.
"All right," he said. "I suppose it's as good as we can do here."
"I don't like the idea of leaving the horses here alone," Grayth said. "If something hungry comes along, they'd be in a hard spot. Should we post a watch out here?"
"Who?" countered Maresa. "If something hungry comes along, our sentry would be in a hard spot, too."
"I think I agree with Grayth," Araevin replied as he studied the sun-dappled forest. It seemed difficult to believe that it might prove dangerous, but there was a sense of menace in the air that he didn't like. It was nothing he could put his finger on, just a single note of warning in his heart that told him to be careful, to be thorough. "I'm not worried about the horses so much as the forest. I don't like the idea of being inside that tower with no idea of what might be skulking around out here."
"I'll stand guard," Brant offered. "I can keep an eye on the horses and the tower door at the same time. If you need me inside, you can simply shout."
"Are you sure you don't mind?" Ilsevele asked.
"Well, I'd rather go in with the rest of you, but someone needs to do it." The young swordsman shrugged and looked around. "That looks like a good spot."
He trudged over to the enormous wreck of a fallen redwood, and settled himself against the moss-covered log. They left him there, and advanced on the ruin. Before they entered, Araevin cast a spell to sniff out any traces of magic in the old tower or its surroundings, while Grayth murmured a prayer to Lathander and searched for signs of evil. The others waited as the elf mage and the human cleric studied the ruins together.
"I sense no evil," Grayth said finally. "But if there are hidden chambers inside or below the ground, I wouldn't sense them from here."
"There is old magic here," Araevin said. "Old protective wards. Some have likely failed, but others may still remain functional. We will have to be careful."
"Can you dispel them?" Maresa asked.
"Possibly, but I hesitate to use such a spell until I know we need it. If I have to study my spellbooks again it would take hours." Araevin allowed his divination spell to fade. He checked his bandolier of components, and made sure his wands were holstered at his hip. Finally he loosened Moonrill in its sheath on his left hip. "All right. Let me cast some protective spells on the rest of you, in case we run into trouble."