"Can you understand what they're saying, Ronan?" Gil asked, having lost his earlier circumspection somewhere between the grandeur and hospitality of the Living Palace. One of the Shadow Elves appeared at the feasting table with a fluted vessel of sweet white wine and poured a drink for Gil and Ronan.
"They're asking about her journey, I think," Dylan said, raising his goblet on the other side of the table where another elf waited to fill it for him.
"You understand elvish?" Mygdewyn asked in surprise, chewing heartily on a slice of sweet bread.
"I am a prince, you know." Dylan shrugged. "'It goes with the territory."
The elf beside Mygdewyn and Ronan said something to them that was unintelligible to Gil and Lilia, who sat beside Dylan.
"He wishes us to eat our fill and welcomes us as Aiovel's companions," Mygdewyn said for Gil's benefit once the elf went away. "And we'll be happy to oblige, hmmm?" the dwarf added, nudging Gil's arm with his elbow. Then suddenly, the gentle music of reeds and soft pipes began to play, filling the feasting hall with the sound. In the midst of the music, Galanor appeared.
"Aiovel will join us later. There are things she must attend to first, but they won't take her long." He said, sitting next to Lilia.
The companions ate until they could eat no more, listening as the elves sang and the night wore on.
At last, Mygdewyn patted his round stomach in satisfaction. "That was the best meal I've ever eaten," he said. "Even better than at King Torven's table. I feel strangely revived by it all." Gil nodded, realizing that the pain in his own upper body had gone. He felt new strength returning even after four long days of travel.
"Ah, my dear Mygdewyn," Galanor said, "that is the effect of the food of the Shadow Elves. The food you have eaten is blessed with healing properties."
The dwarf snorted. "Well, I can't say I care about that, but I'm content right now." He leaned back, suddenly sleepy. "Time for a nap." The dwarf muttered, drifting off to sleep.
VII: Ambush
Gil's dreams were pleasant as he slept under the silver branches. He awoke to the morning sun and rubbed his eyes with his knuckles.
The last thing he remembered was the sound of Ronan's laughter the previous evening as he talked among the Shadow Elves. Aiovel had returned at last, and while the others were led away to rest, Galanor, Aiovel, and Ronan had joined in revelry with the elves.
As Gil looked around, he saw the still forms of the others about him. They were sleeping on a platform built high in the trees, the low walls formed of green vines laced among the branches. They had lain on soft bedding with but a light blanket, but Gil couldn't complain. Despite the breeze, he'd felt warm throughout the night and safe for the first time since leaving Gyfen. He imagined the others would be waking soon, no doubt feeling the worse for their indulgence last night.
Gil flinched, suddenly fearful. Near where the dwarf lay, he had spied the form of Rodruban and remembered Galanor's warning about him.
A moment later, Gil stood up and peered over the edge of the platform. Now he noticed the long connecting walkways of the city that he had not remembered from the evening before. Below, Galanor looked up from a circle of elves speaking in musical voices. The silvery-blue haired elf dismissed himself and walked toward one of the circling staircases to the upper platforms.
"Ho, young Gil," Galanor hailed him in a voice subdued so as not to wake the others.
Gil hurried down the walkway to meet him.
"It's past sunrise," Gil said. "Don't we have to leave soon?"
Galanor shook his head. "We'll be resting here another day." He turned to watch the activities below. "It would be unwise for us to leave the safety of the Living Palace while Rodruban is among us."
"Why?" Gil inquired. "Rodruban doesn't intend the forest any harm." Not unless there's something in it for him, Gil amended inwardly.
"Nevertheless, his chaotic power would be ill welcomed by a certain creature in this forest." Galanor explained. "Though you're right—Rodruban won't harm a leaf as long as he believes that the forest is strengthening his powers."
"Does it?" Gil wondered.
"Why, yes," Galanor admitted. "But that isn't the point. Whether he wishes to or not, it doesn't matter; Rodruban will draw the attention of more creatures than we can face alone, and one in particular. So for his sake and for ours, we'll wait until tomorrow to continue our journey."
Galanor paused, then regarded Gil amiably. "But don't worry about all of this, Gil. Go down and enjoy your breakfast. And there is much to do if you aren't hungry yet." He turned away. "I'll go and wake the others; they'll join you soon."
Galanor left, but Gil hesitated. He turned to the east and looked toward the horizon.
In the morning light, Gil saw that the Living Palace was indeed far larger than he had imagined, maybe even as large as Gyfen. To the east, the palace stretched around the meeting of two rivers, and the branches drew back, affording a clear view of the large shimmering silver lake that lay in the middle of the palace, the vineyards just beyond, and small, enclosed, green pasture lands. Now Gil knew why the Shadow Elves were unknown outside their forest; what more could they possibly want that they didn't already have? He found their city even more enticing than the pixie's lair. As he stood still, Gil heard voices carried on the wind. He descended the stairs, eager to join them.
* * * * *
The company found Gil sitting at a table among the elves. Rodruban's appearance surprised the elves, as did the strange disappearance of their new friend Ronan. While Mygdewyn began the long explanation of Ronan's plight, Dylan decided instead to go to find Aiovel.
He was anxious to see her again, and he also wanted to ask her about their plans to re-stock their supplies. They had a long journey ahead and little food left, and Dylan didn't really trust Galanor's hunting skills. Nevertheless, he was momentarily distracted as a beautiful elf woman passed him; perhaps spending another day here wouldn't be so bad, after all, he thought. As his eyes followed the lady, he spied Aiovel talking to the elf guide who had led them to the palace in the main courtyard up ahead. Dylan approached quietly so as not to interrupt, but the guide was talking, and neither seemed to notice him.
"... but it would be advisable to avoid going near the Black Mountains. It seems Scathaechir is awake, and you know he will not be idle long."
"Yes." Aiovel admitted, but she didn't appear to like this news. "The warrior Guilian's spell did buy us some time, yet if Scathaechir has awakened again—"
"My Queen—" the elf stopped, glancing around the tree. "One of your companions—"
"Yes, Prince Dylan?" Aiovel asked in Roste as Dylan appeared. "Do you wish to speak with me?"
"Yes, about supplies," Dylan offered, his mind reeling.
Aiovel, a Queen? Was Aiovel really Queen of the Elwellyn Elves? Why hadn't she said so before? And if she was, why was she roaming about the countryside alone? And why was she on a mission heading east in the first place?
"Filfin, you will bring us bottles of water taken from the lake." Aiovel said.
"Yes," the elf nodded and disappeared. Literally. Dylan blinked, but the elf did not reappear.
"As for supplies, I am having them brought over to us after breakfast." Aiovel said, nonplussed. She walked with Dylan back to the others, but Dylan's thoughts had turned to wondering about her. And who was this Scathaechir?
No doubt someone he wouldn't want to meet.
* * * * *
Six Shadow Elves appeared before the company as if they had materialized from thin air. Galanor laughed as Lilia swallowed a piece of fruit whole, almost choking herself.
"How did they do that?" She managed in a hoarse crack, her eyes narrowing as Dylan pulled back the jug of water she had been reaching for and let it dangle by its handle on the tip of his forefinger.
Everyone knew elves didn't w
ork magic! Or at least, that was what she had heard.
"Shadow Elves have the ability to fade away and reappear," Galanor explained. "That's partly why they're called Shadow Elves. They can travel miles in the blink of an eye." He laughed. "But I'm afraid they have a mischievous sense of humor. You usually only ever see them use the skill to astonish visitors," he added.
"So you're not a Shadow Elf, then." Lilia surmised after draining the jug that Dylan had relinquished.
"No, far from it," Galanor said. "I prefer other methods of travel."
"Here you are, Gil!" Aiovel interrupted from the other table.
Gil looked over where Aiovel stood with several elves who had been carrying supplies to the nearby table. She raised a new, finely embroidered green and silver tunic and dark brown pants, but Gil didn't yet comprehend that they were for him.
"What?" was all he could manage.
"These are for you, Gil." She added, then laughed at his perplexed expression.
"To replace those old things," Lilia said, gesturing to the tattered work clothes Gil had worn at the Pegasus. It was true his clothes were hardly decent; his plain undershirt, tunic, and pants had been stained from the ale, wine, and food in the tavern and from dirt and splashes from the mop. The shirt and pants were torn in several places, and had been remended a score of times. And in the past few days, rain and mud had saturated his garments and turned them nearly black.
"Come on, Gil, don't you know that it isn't polite to refuse a lady!" Aiovel continued with an amused smile.
Gil stood uncertainly, then headed self-consciously toward the other table. He didn't like to accept charity, however well-intended, but his sense of chivalry urged him to accept the gifts as a loan.
Aiovel presented a pile of clothing to him. He reached out a hand and tentatively stroked the silky, silver-threaded undershirt, then the fine brown pants that were especially treated against water, wear, and stains.
At the bottom of the pile lay a pair of sturdy but soft leather boots. "Boots," Gil managed, his voice thick. "And a new cloak." He added, eyeing the finespun grey woolen cloak with its silver-leaf clasp.
"But I don't deserve this!" he protested. These were costly goods; Gil didn't feel worthy of them. He was only a tavern servant, a pauper, and an orphan after all, and Aiovel had already given him so much. What had he done to deserve such gifts? Galanor's ice bubble had kept him from doing anything useful that might have earned such rewards.
"Tut tut! You'll take them!" Aiovel retorted, and Gil realized it would be better not to argue. She seemed to have a temper after all. At least, she wasn't used to being gainsaid. "Besides," she added, "I'm the one who dragged you all the way out here, and there won't be any tailors around until we reach Gildorland. I highly doubt you'll have a scrap about you by the time we get there."
Lilia giggled.
"They're just what you needed, boy." Dylan added, appearing beside him. "And a bit of leather armor for you, it looks like."
Gil nodded, overcome for the moment.
"Anyway, we can't have you traveling with us in those old clothes!" Lilia cried. "Any beast would be bound to smell you coming a mile away!"
* * * * *
In the afternoon, the others joined Lilia for a bath in the cool lake. Dylan had dried himself an hour before and sat by the water with Rodruban and Aiovel.
"What are the vials of lake water for?" Dylan asked. "Surely you don't expect we'll run out of water after we leave the forest?"
Aiovel shook her head. "No, but the water from the sacred lake has an effect like a healing potion and cures fatigue—or rather, I should say it staves off fatigue. This magic water keeps a person alert and awake, but it only delays a need to sleep. However, I expect it should be useful for its medicinal properties alone, since we didn't have a chance to buy any healing potions in Gyfen."
"Come now, Gil," Mygdewyn said, drying himself on the shore. "Time for a lesson." Mygdewyn hadn't ventured farther than a few steps into the lake. Dwarves liked being clean, but they didn't much care for water, for, inevitably, heavy as they were, they sank like stones. Mygdewyn had been taught to swim as a young dwarf, and could tread water by sheer strength and will of mind for about half a minute. After that, his dense muscles ran out of energy, and he required swift rescue.
"Oh, come on," Lilia said, splashing her way to the surface. "If Gil leaves, I'll have to swim by myself. Stay, Gil, please?" She inveigled, batting her long lashes.
"You've been away under the water somewhere for nearly half an hour," Gil commented. "So it's not as though you need company." He swam to the shore, passing as he emerged by the druid lying on the sand. "And besides," he sputtered, looking back at Lilia's crestfallen face. "Galanor's still swimming somewhere around here."
Gil paused, wondering about that. If he hadn't known any better, he would have thought Galanor was part Sea Elf, too.
Gil hurriedly dressed in his undershirt and new pants, then grabbed his scabbard and headed to the clearing by the water where the dwarf stood waiting.
* * * * *
After an afternoon spent mostly in practicing swordplay and axemanship with Mygdewyn and Dylan, Gil slept soundly. Early the next morning with Ronan an elf once again, the companions said good-bye to their elf hosts and left the Living Palace. The Shadow Elves had been pleased by Ronan-elf's appearance and were understandably disappointed to see him leave before the evening's feast.
But Gil was glad that they had resumed their march east into the forest. And Galanor guessed that with any luck, they would reach the forest's eastern border in only two days.
Then, well into the afternoon the air grew suddenly very chilly, and shadows seemed to spring out at Gil from behind the trees and ferns. He glanced around warily, more anxious than he had been since escaping from Marnat.
"I feel it, too," Dylan said, nodding. "Like a shadow has fallen on the entire forest when it should be the warmest time of day." His hand fell unconsciously to his sword's hilt, and he hurried ahead. "Ronan," Dylan said to the elf, "you priests are all vessels for natural powers, aren't you?"
"Yes," Ronan nodded.
"Well, do you sense any creatures around us, following us perhaps?"
The elf's ears strained to the sounds of the forest, but after a moment, he shook his head. "If there is something following us nearby, it isn't natural." He said, shivering.
The company continued steadily until late afternoon, when they crossed a small waterfall on the side of a stony shelf flanking the trail. Roots clung to the steep incline, and one tiny tree jutted from a steep ledge. As Gil cupped his hands to get some of the cold, clear water, Mygdewyn sat on a boulder and picked up a stone to sharpen his axe blade.
"Where will we go once we get out of this forest?" Lilia asked suddenly.
Aiovel looked at her and shrugged. "East for a while, then south. You wanted to go to the ruins of Argolen, didn't you?"
"Yes," Lilia's face brightened. "If that's where the treasures are."
"I must admit," the dwarf added, "that I wouldn't mind finding some treasure myself. Not that I don't appreciate your gifts, Aiovel."
"The ruins of Argolen aren't far from the Black Mountains, are they?" Dylan asked thoughtfully, tugging on his forelock.
"Well," Aiovel admitted, "they're far enough from it."
"So who's this Scathaechir?" Dylan decided to be frank, looking her in the eye.
"Scathaechir?" Aiovel echoed.
"You know, the person who woke up in a bad mood."
"Are you sure you want to know?" She hedged.
"Quite sure." Dylan nodded.
"Well, Scathaechir is the King of the Black Dragons." Aiovel replied.
"Dragons!" Lilia shrieked, wrinkling her nose distastefully.
"I don't think there's much of a chance we'll meet him, though." Aiovel reassu
red them. "He's safely trapped by the River of Argolen. And it's not him I'm worried about, but his dragon children."
"Dragons have children?" Gil wondered.
"Of course they do!" Galanor cried. "How do you think dragons got here in the first place?"
"Well, I sort of thought they were created by magic." Gil shrugged, and Galanor sighed.
"Hopeless," he muttered.
"Can't we avoid them, though?" Lilia asked, tugging on Aiovel's sleeve.
Aiovel shook her head. "We can try, but if we're going to Argolen, there's always a risk we'll meet them, so it might do us some good to sharpen our skills before we head over the Hills of Briodun. Gil here, for one, needs time to learn the sword." She said.
"I'm getting better." Gil offered.
"When you can use that thing to best me, I'll agree with you," Lilia laughed. Gil frowned.
"Aiovel, I don't think we should head directly over the hills." Galanor interrupted, shaking his head in concern. "Not with all of the wyverns, evil bogles, and the other beasts that inhabit every valley and glade. We'll be lucky even to make it to the ancient highway from here! If you ask me, we should avoid the hills altogether and follow the River of Argolen from Argolen up into the mountains."
"But we'd have to skirt the Black Mountains that way." Aiovel said. "If Scathaechir is once again able to cross the river, even if only for a short time—"
"Aiovel!"
Mygdewyn shouted as a shadow stepped from the trees. The company turned to look where the dwarf pointed helplessly. Dylan and the others felt their movements slowed as if suddenly moving through water. Yet the clarity of his own thoughts consoled Dylan that this feeling was no dream, but part of some kind of spell.
The creature was a dark grey-skinned elf, with large silver eyes that glittered like ice. Gil shuddered to look at them, feeling sudden despair and cold creeping over his limbs.
The elf creature spoke in a rumbling whisper; even Ronan couldn't understand the strange elven language. As the creature moved toward them, Lilia shrieked and scrambled up the steep incline, clinging to the tree a few feet above.
But Aiovel stepped forward. Dylan was about to pull her back when the creature appeared to recognize her and relented in its advance.