Adalonia will pay for the insult it’s dealt to both our lands. Go, Idrekke. The people will be looking to you for counsel. Be on hand to advise them in the right direction.”
* * *
Dolmerrath , Kilmerry Province , Jomhas 27 , AC 1876
There were no windows in the caves of Dolmerrath, and so as far as Faanshi knew, there should have been no way to see the waxing and waning of light from outside. Yet in the stable caverns as well as the passage they followed away from it, light that at first came seemingly from nowhere brought to her sight large stretches of the place that should have been in shadow. And because her mind was full to overflowing and because she had to say something lest she scream, she asked Alarrah about it as they made their way to Gerren’s study.
“Look up high along the walls,” Alarrah advised her, with a certain heaviness to her voice that warned Faanshi that her sister was perhaps almost as mentally exhausted as she. “Tembriel enchanted mirrors with her fire-magic. There’s a great mirror in our central hall that sees the sunlight, and she set the rest to show the same light that that one sees.”
Once she knew to look, Faanshi spotted the shapes of polished silver. She distracted herself with seeking them out and counting them, all the way to Gerren’s library, and it almost served to occupy her restless thoughts. Yet not even charmed mirrors could distract her from the ongoing drain that Julian made upon her magic. He was moving under his own power. He’d personally seen to Morrigh, making sure that his horse was watered and fed and resting before he was ready to leave him. And she had to admit that even to her anxious eye, there was no obvious slowness or stiffness in the motions of his tall, lean frame. His stride was almost normal, and there was no trace of strain on his face.
But because her magic warned otherwise, she kept looking closer—and so, more than once when she was sure he thought no one was looking, she caught him flexing his new right hand’s fingers, or reaching up to rub at the left side of his head. Days after their departure from the abbey he was no longer so alarmingly pale, but his eyes were still hollowed, his features still gaunt and worn.
She didn’t bother to ask him if he was all right; she’d already done so, as had Alarrah, and he’d deflected them both. Nor did she have any time to confront him again, not when Gerren had summoned them. Alarrah and Kirinil led them at a brisk pace through the caves, and brisk too was the mood of those who worked in the great hall as they passed through. The wide, open chamber looked much as it had on her previous visit, with sunlight falling down from above upon delicate living trees and the carved stone cousins that kept them company. As before, people at work filled the room. Now, though, their mood was entirely different. There was no music; murmurs of conversation echoed instead from wall to wall. What faces Faanshi glimpsed were serious of mien, and several of the hands occupied with what even her inexperienced eyes could identify as the care of weapons.
After all, she’d just spent several days learning to look after Julian’s own knives while he himself could not. She knew what that looked like, and she feared that she was seeing what it looked like when a people prepared to go to war.
The passages through the caves looked almost all the same, winding without apparent rhyme or reason through whatever hill or mountain where the elves hid from the eyes of the world. Yet when they reached it she recognized the green-and-brown curtain bearing the design of a tree whose branches were hung with a moon and stars. It marked the entrance to Gerren’s study, and Alarrah called out to ask permission for them to enter.
Would this meeting with Gerren proceed any better than her first visit?
Would she and Julian be permitted to stay?
The questions nagging at her made Faanshi faster than the Rook for once. When Gerren
* * *
Dolmerrath , Kilmerry Province , Jomhas 27 , AC 1876
There were no windows in the caves of Dolmerrath, and so as far as Faanshi knew, there should have been no way to see the waxing and waning of light from outside. Yet in the stable caverns as well as the passage they followed away from it, light that at first came seemingly from nowhere brought to her sight large stretches of the place that should have been in shadow. And because her mind was full to overflowing and because she had to say something lest she scream, she asked Alarrah about it as they made their way to Gerren’s study.
“Look up high along the walls,” Alarrah advised her, with a certain heaviness to her voice that warned Faanshi that her sister was perhaps almost as mentally exhausted as she. “Tembriel enchanted mirrors with her fire-magic. There’s a great mirror in our central hall that sees the sunlight, and she set the rest to show the same light that that one sees.”
Once she knew to look, Faanshi spotted the shapes of polished silver. She distracted herself with seeking them out and counting them, all the way to Gerren’s library, and it almost served to occupy her restless thoughts. Yet not even charmed mirrors could distract her from the ongoing drain that Julian made upon her magic. He was moving under his own power. He’d personally seen to Morrigh, making sure that his horse was watered and fed and resting before he was ready to leave him. And she had to admit that even to her anxious eye, there was no obvious slowness or stiffness in the motions of his tall, lean frame. His stride was almost normal, and there was no trace of strain on his face.
But because her magic warned otherwise, she kept looking closer—and so, more than once when she was sure he thought no one was looking, she caught him flexing his new right hand’s fingers, or reaching up to rub at the left side of his head. Days after their departure from the abbey he was no longer so alarmingly pale, but his eyes were still hollowed, his features still gaunt and worn.
She didn’t bother to ask him if he was all right; she’d already done so, as had Alarrah, and he’d deflected them both. Nor did she have any time to confront him again, not when Gerren had summoned them. Alarrah and Kirinil led them at a brisk pace through the caves, and brisk too was the mood of those who worked in the great hall as they passed through. The wide, open chamber looked much as it had on her previous visit, with sunlight falling down from above upon delicate living trees and the carved stone cousins that kept them company. As before, people at work filled the room. Now, though, their mood was entirely different. There was no music; murmurs of conversation echoed instead from wall to wall. What faces Faanshi glimpsed were serious of mien, and several of the hands occupied with what even her inexperienced eyes could identify as the care of weapons.
After all, she’d just spent several days learning to look after Julian’s own knives while he himself could not. She knew what that looked like, and she feared that she was seeing what it looked like when a people prepared to go to war.
The passages through the caves looked almost all the same, winding without apparent rhyme or reason through whatever hill or mountain where the elves hid from the eyes of the world. Yet when they reached it she recognized the green-and-brown curtain bearing the design of a tree whose branches were hung with a moon and stars. It marked the entrance to Gerren’s study, and Alarrah called out to ask permission for them to enter.
Would this meeting with Gerren proceed any better than her first visit?
Would she and Julian be permitted to stay?
The questions nagging at her made Faanshi faster than the Rook for once. When Gerren
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