"Ah, but there a wizard's spell magic can come to the aid of his crew. Enchanted by water-breathing spells, elves could sally forth from their galleys, driving the creatures of the sea before them. In this way, it is said, the elves eventually gained mastery of the surface of the sea for all air-breathing creatures."
"Look out!" Brandon cried, springing to Alicia's side before anyone else reacted. A sudden movement nearby drew their attention, and the companions whirled to face one who had not been there a second before.
"Greetings," said Princess Deirdre wryly. She gestured at the craters left by Keane's meteor shower, the singed grass where the wall of fire had roared. "Did the celebration get a little too wild?"
"Great timing," Alicia snapped. "We could have used your help a few minutes ago."
The dark-haired princess said nothing. She wore a plain woolen traveling cloak, with a large bundle strapped to her back. The outline of the flat mirror, through which she had watched the entire fight, was lost in the shapeless bulk of the mass.
Robyn's eyes flashed, and for a moment, she fixed Deirdre with a harsh stare, an expression her daughter ignored. After a moment, the queen's face softened, shadowed once more by grief.
No one stopped to explain what had transpired to the newcomer, however, and Deirdre didn't bother to ask. Instead, they turned their attention back to the discussion that had been interrupted.
"Now?" persisted Alicia. "Is such a voyage under the sea possible today?"
"There you'll have to ask the elves," Tavish said with a sigh. "And it's most unlikely that they'll tell you much!"
"But we can try, can't we?" asked the princess, suddenly excited by the possibilities. "There are elves right here on Gwynneth! The Llewyrr, in Synnoria."
"Indeed," her mother noted with a wry smile. "Have you ever been to Synnoria? Has anyone here-anyone within the borders of Corwell-been to Synnoria?"
"Yes, my queen," came the unexpected reply, from Lord Pawldo. "You have-and so have I."
Robyn laughed, and the sound broke some of the tension. "Yes, beneath blindfolds, our ears masked by the sound of a harp!" Her face grew wistful at the memory. "Yet even then our presence was not desired by the Llewyrr. And the passes into the valley, remember, cannot be seen by humans-not even with aid of a sorcerer."
"That doesn't matter!" Alicia declared forcefully. She regretted her tone immediately, but surprisingly, her mother merely nodded and waited for her to continue.
"I'll start out first thing in the morning! I'll circle every side of that mountain range if I have to until I find a way in or they come out to get me!"
"I'm with you, my princess!" declared Lord Hanrald, grinding his fist into his palm, wishing he held a sword that he could brandish.
"And I!" Brandon was quick to pledge his axe.
Unconsciously the princess found herself looking at Keane. She saw an expression of unabashed dismay cross the mage's face.
Indeed, to the wizard, the difficulties of the task loomed paramount. Keane had no faith in their ability to find a path into Synnoria. It was known to be impervious to most forms of detection and orientation spells. And even if they did manage to find their way to the hidden land, he very much doubted that the elves would willingly aid them. Not that they could be of much help, he noted in his silent tally of insurmountable obstacles. He didn't believe for a moment that the secret to sailing a ship under the sea could be discovered in a landlocked mountain kingdom. But finally Keane spoke.
"What time do we leave?" the magic-user asked with a sigh of resignation.
Brigit removed the supple steel gauntlets from her hands and then stopped to doff her helmet and loosen the straps of her armor. Several young Llewyrr led her mare to the watering pool, and she knew that they would brush and feed the animal with care.
Flowing golden hair spilled across Brigit's shoulders, concealing the pointed tips of her elven ears. Barely an inch over five feet tall and quite slender even in her armor, she concealed a great amount of fighting prowess in that tiny form.
"Captain?" Another sister knight stepped through the stable door.
"Oh, hello, Myra. What is it?"
"That priest who came through the Fey-Alamtine goes to see Erashanoor today. The elder wondered if you could join them."
"Of course," Brigit replied without hesitation. Normally the elven knight preferred the pastoral quiet and chaotic splendor of the forest to the well-manicured beauty of Chrysalis, but an invitation from the elder sage of Synnoria was always an intriguing prospect.
Erashanoor was, in many ways, Brigit's mentor-at least in scholarship, if not in knighthood. She saw him only rarely, however, for the old elf could spare little time from his work. He was reputedly writing a detailed history of Synnoria. Nevertheless, on those rare occasions when the Fey-Alamtine was used, Erashanoor always spent considerable time with the refugees.
The sage's offices were located on the highest level in the Argen-Tellirynd, the Palace of the Ages in the heart of Chrysalis. The city itself occupied an island in the Crystaloch, while the stables and barracks of the knights-along with the farms, forests, and parks of all Synnoria-sprawled across the broad valley floor surrounding the lake. Three wide roadways, each smoothly paved with tight-fitting blocks of white marble, crossed the lake at different points, connecting the island city to the shore.
Brigit crossed the causeway on foot, passing through the narrow silver gates-standing open, as always. Soon the gleaming towers of Chrysalis loomed around her, and the winding roads of smoothly polished alabaster stone swerved with artistic perfection among flower bushes and delicately shaped evergreens.
But she must attend to business, she reminded herself. She strolled down the quiet avenues, passing other Llewyrr who walked with casual grace about the city. There was no sense of urgency here, though all of these elves undoubtedly had business to tend to. Such is the way of members of a race whose lifespans commonly pass five centuries.
Brigit moved with the same unconscious ease, at last arriving at a clear, multifaceted wall that cast dazzling patterns of sunlight on the ground at her feet. She stood before the crowning glory of Chrysalis, the structure that had served as the ceremonial capital of the Llewyrr for as long as their city had stood.
The Argen-Tellirynd was surrounded by a crystal wall in the shape of a perfect triangle, enclosing pools, gardens, and walkways within its bright confines. The palace itself rose in a steeply sloping pyramid in the center of the courtyard. The structure had three sides, but Brigit could only see one from her current vantage. Gates as clear as glass swung wide at Brigit's approach, and two elven footmen nodded politely to the knight as she passed.
"The elder is expecting you, Lady Brigit," offered one.
The sister knight meandered through the maze of reflective pools and graceful hedges that filled the courtyard of the Argen-Tellirynd. Finally, unconsciously quickening her steps, she reached the gates of the palace structure itself.
A triangular door in the side of the palace structure slid sideways, revealing a wide, silver-floored corridor. Walls of crystal sloped upward to meet in a point, twenty feet over her head.
A few twists and turns brought her to a wide staircase, and at the top, she reached the elder sage's library. She knew even before she entered that he was within; the telltale scent of his pipe smoke lingered in the air. With a wry smile, Brigit knocked on the door and entered.
"Ah, welcome, my child, welcome!" Erashanoor waved absently. The sage sat in his high-backed leather chair, holding a long-stemmed pipe in his hand and leaning forward, his posture intent upon Pallarynd. The Thy-Tach priest, his face streaked by tears, looked down as Brigit joined them in a third chair.