The Faerion by Jim Greenfield

her, confirming their value. Culver watched her as his stomach tightened. What did she really hold? She said she did not have the Faerion, but that was at Whitehall. She did not have this bundle there. He did not dare ask her the truth; he wasn't sure he wanted to know for certain. The presence of the book would make it more dangerous for Elise.
    Elise hummed to herself while they walked. Tomen was silent and Wynne muttered to herself. Culver brought up the rear, watching his companions each chance he could. Wynne seemed pleased with her belongings, now stuffed in the extra pack Tomen had brought. Culver hoped it contained only her tools of trade, but the more his mind dwelt on it, the more troubled he became. He felt sure she had the Faerion. He could sense its presence in the pack, urging him to touch it, to see it, to unleash it. It grew on his mind with every step. He could see it in her pack. It bulged out in the middle. He kept his eyes on it. Suddenly, it began to move! It was alive! Someone spoke and he looked away. When he looked again it did not move. He convinced that it had and kept some distance away from the pack. Even singing to himself did not help keep his thoughts from the pack.
    He closed the distance to Wynne heedless of Elise's puzzled expression as he passed her. Wynne stopped suddenly and Culver leapt aside so he wouldn't run into the pack. Tomen gave him a pained look, motioning for quiet.
    "Sorry," said Wynne. "I had a rock in my boot. I'll let you know before I stop next time."
    "Thank you," croaked Culver.
    "Quiet," said Tomen. "We are nearing Troll country. See, the land is becoming barren."
    The land was still rugged but there were more rocks strewn across the landscape. Jagged rocks of various sizes covered parts of the trail. Tomen led them from the trail deeper into the trees. When they were a good distance from the trail, he stopped.
    "There are Trolls nearby. Six to ten by the number of tracks. They trampled the ground so much I cannot tell the exact number. I did not expect them. Something disrupted their normal activity. We must take great care. Trolls do love Tuor stew."
    "Don't say that," said Culver. "You will scare Elise."
    "If it saves her life, so be it. Have a care with your concerns, Culver. I think Elise can handle herself much better than you."
    "Keep to the matter of the Trolls," said Wynne. "You obviously did not expect them here and have no experience of what it might mean. What would you do if you were alone?"
    "I would wait until noon. The Trolls should be napping, but I am not certain. I would cover ground as fast as I could. The Trolls are not sharp witted and even if I made noise they would not be able to pursue immediately. They would be disoriented and the hundred yards or more it would allow me might get me to Arda unscathed."
    "Might?" asked Elise.
    "Might," confirmed Tomen. "There is the chance of running into a stray Troll, late for his nap. They are an unstructured people. Remember, they are swifter than they appear. Do not think their stupidity limits the danger. Tuors have been caught before."
    "I think we ought to follow that plan," said Wynne. "I might be able to raise a fog to confuse any who pursue."
    "At noon?" asked Culver. "I am impressed." Elise gave him a sour look.
    "Do it, then," said Tomen.
    When the sun was high, Wynne moved away from them, her face drawn and pale. Culver stared, fascinated. Avolan was more an herbal type of wizard; extracts of berries, potions, but Wynne used real spells. Culver grinned at Elise who shook her head at him although she was no less enthralled with the demonstration. Wynne began to chant softly, with a disturbing rhythm. Culver's skin began to crawl and he felt clammy. The chanting lasted several minutes. Culver knew the Trolls would find them before Wynne finished. Then the sound stopped.
    The chilly fog rose up around them, moving with them as Tomen led them forward. It clung to them silently, swirling with their