“Be silent,” Sorak said. “You talk too much.”
“Yes, my lord, I do. Forgive me.”
“Get out of my sight,” said Sorak.
“Thank you, my lord, thank you,” the elf said, bowing deeply as he backed away. His companion followed with him, also bowing, staring at Sorak and Ryana fearfully. As they left, a number of others slipped out the door, as well.
“Serpent’s teeth!” the tavern keeper said. “What was all that about? Are you a nobleman?”
“No,” said Sorak. “He must have mistaken me for someone else.”
“You are not a nobleman, and yet you carry a blade of rare worth and manufacture. You have the aspect of an elf, yet you are not an elf. And you have the eyes and hair of a halfling. Who are you?”
“He is my friend,” Korahna said, approaching the tavern keeper.
“And who might you be?” said the tavern keeper.
Korahna stepped up close to him and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Look closely, Galavan. Do you not recognize me?”
The tavern keeper frowned and stared at her for a moment, then his eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped. “Serpent’s teeth!” he whispered. “We thought you were dead!”
“We can discuss that later,” she said. “You know why I have come. These two are my friends, and I vouch for them with my life.”
“Your word is enough for me,” said Galavan. “Come, this way, to the back room.”
He led them around behind the bar and through a curtained archway. “Watch the place,” he said to one of his assistants, and then passed through.
It appeared to be no more than a storeroom with a small table, chair, and lantern. The walls were lined with wooden shelves containing spare goblets, pitchers, plateware, bottles, and other supplies. Galavan approached one of the shelves, reached inside and tripped a hidden switch. Then he swung the entire shelf away from the wall, revealing a dark passage.
“This way,” he said, picking up the lantern from the table and beckoning them inside. He handed the lantern to Korahna, and after they went in, he closed the hidden door behind them.
“Where does this lead?” Ryana asked the princess.
“You will see,” Korahna replied and started to descend the flight of stone steps that led down to a tunnel beneath the street. They walked through the tunnel for a while when they suddenly became aware of greater space around them.
The tunnel walls had ended, and they were in an open area, but it was underground.
“What is this place?” Ryana asked, unable to see much past the glow of the lantern.
“Ruins,” said Sorak, whose vision in the dark allowed him to see far more than she could. “Underground ruins. We are standing in some sort of <courtyard>.”
“Nibenay is built upon the ruins of another ancient city,” said Korahna, “dating back over a thousand years. Neither the templars nor my father know of it, but throughout the city, there are places where access to the ancient city can be found. The Elven Blade is one such place. Galavan is a secret ally of the Veiled Alliance.”
“So what happens now?” Ryana asked.
As if in reply, a score of torches suddenly blazed up all around them, illuminating robed and hooded figures standing in a large circle, surrounding them.
“Welcome home, Korahna,” one of them said. “We have been expecting you.”
10
One of the robed figures stepped toward them with his torch. As he approached, they could see that his robe was white, and his face within the hood was covered with a white veil.
“These are my friends,” Korahna said. “They helped me to escape captivity and brought me here across the Stony Barrens.”
“You crossed the barrens?” said the hooded man with amazement.
“If not for these two, I never would have survived,” Korahna said. “I owe them my life.” I The hooded figure turned to gaze at Ryana, then at Sorak. “You are the one who is called Sorak, the Nomad?”
“You know me?” Sorak said.
“Your arrival was foretold.”
“By whom?” said Sorak. “By the Sage?”
The Guardian tried to probe him, but the hooded figure merely shook his head. “Do not try to use the Way on me, Nomad. It shall not serve you. I am shielded.”
“Your magic is strong,” said Sorak. “Yes, but not strong enough,” the veiled sorcerer replied. “Regrettably, the Shadow King’s is stronger. We are grateful to you, and to you as well, Priestess, for returning Korahna to us. She will be a great help in our struggle. But you had reasons of your own for bringing her with you.”
“Yes,” said Sorak. “We had hoped that she would help us contact you. We were sent to Nibenay—”
“I know,” the sorcerer said. “We were expecting you, though we did not know in what manner you would arrive, or from where. We thought you might come with a caravan or perhaps by the little-traveled northern trail. .. but across the Stony Barrens: that is a feat that shall be told in tales for a long time to come. I look forward to hearing the details of your journey. However, Korahna can supply them. I fear you shall have other things with which to be concerned.”
“What do you mean?” Ryana asked. “The templars have discovered that the Elven Blade is a contact point for the Alliance. They have been sending spies to watch who comes and goes. We did not learn of this until after Korahna had disappeared, so there was no way she could have known.
“Following your . . . encounter, known informers were seen leaving the tavern in a hurry. They will run straight to the templars. It is unlikely that any of them would have recognized Korahna, but you revealed yourself in your exchange with the thief. Soon the Shadow King shall know of you, and then you shall be in gravest danger.”
“But how could the Shadow King know of my quest to find the Sage?” asked Sorak.
“Do not underestimate the powers of Nibenay,” the wizard said. “Besides, you carry Galdra, the enchanted sword of ancient elven kings. That alone would make him see you as a rival. No defiler would wish to see the elves unite behind one ruler, unless that ruler were himself.”
“But I am not an elven king,” protested Sorak. “This sword was given to me by the High Mistress Varanna, and she said nothing of any legacy associated with it. I have no wish to rule or unite anyone. I am not responsible for fanciful stories that grow up around a sword.”
“Nevertheless, you will find yourself affected by those stories. Stories that are repeated often enough become legends, and people set great store by legends. Whether the prophecy is a true one or not, there will be those who will try to make it so. They shall either try to cast you in the role, or else take your sword and usurp it for themselves.
“You could, of course, give up the sword, but then you would risk having it fall into the wrong hands. Nibenay could do much with such a blade. If it wins the allegiance of the elves, I would much rather see it in your hands. Either way, you are in danger so long as you remain within the city. It is possible the forces of the Shadow King may find the hidden entrance in the storeroom, but if they do, we are prepared to cave in the tunnel on them. There are other ways into and out of the old ruins, ways they have not yet discovered. There is a branching off point in the tunnel through which you came that will take you up into the alley behind the Elven Blade. It would be best if you were not seen leaving the tavern. You could be followed.”
The hooded wizard reached inside his robe and withdrew a small, rolled up scroll that was banded with a green ribbon.
He handed it to Sorak.
“This will tell you what you need to know,” he said. “Ask me no more questions, for I have no answers to give you.”
The wizard turned to go.
“Wait,” said Sorak. “How shall I contact you again?”
“It would be best if you did not,” the wizard said. “The longer you remain here, the greater will be the risk to you and anyone who helps you. You have your quest, we have our struggle to wage. In the end, perhaps, our goals may be the same, but we must pursue them by our separate paths. Good luck, Nomad. May you find that which you seek. Come, Korahna.”