"What is it?" Lilia's asked, her teeth chattering in fear.
"He is the Death Elf," Galanor whispered to the others. "The ancient guardian of this Forest."
"Who is he?" Gil asked in a hoarse voice.
"A Shadow Elf, of course," Galanor said. "Though a very powerful, ancient Shadow Elf; a wizard-warrior, in fact. No one remembers his true name, but he was once the faithful guardian of Queen Elwellyn, the first queen of this forest and of the Shadow Elves."
"S-so why is he still here?" Gil stuttered. Galanor chuckled.
"Long ago, when malicious creatures first came to Arcaendria, he swore to protect the forest from them forever. He is the reason many of your Gyfen adventurers have vanished, prince," Galanor added, turning to Dylan. "He doesn't take kindly to malevolent intruders, or any adventurers who attempt to plunder this sacred forest."
"Why is he here then? We're not any threat." Gil insisted.
"No," Galanor shook his head, "but the Death Elf doesn't know that for certain." He laughed, strangely unconcerned. "Do not worry, Gil. He will not harm us while Aiovel is with us."
How could he be so sure of that? Gil wondered.
A moment later, the dark elf bowed, his eyes glaring horrifically, then he disappeared into the trees.
"He tells me he has seen a large group of unnatural creatures in the pass to the south," Aiovel said, turning to the company.
"How many?" Dylan asked, concern creasing his brow.
"I can't imagine he means more than a handful." Aiovel replied. "Still, this means it's a good thing we came through the forest, even though it seems we took a roundabout way of heading to Argolen. A few of the mindless creatures dared to enter the forest, and he has been hunting them down."
Aiovel looked over at Lilia, who still clung to a branch above them. "He didn't intend to frighten you, Lilia." She laughed. "In fact, I'll wager he wouldn't even have noticed you, since you're half-Sea Elf."
"Anyway, I'm glad he went away." Lilia shivered again.
"But we might encounter something far worse than the Death Elf in the ruins of Argolen." Aiovel said.
"As long as it's alive, whatever it is, I'll be fine." Lilia said.
"And what if it isn't?" Galanor inquired, halfway serious.
* * * * *
Three days after their encounter with the Death Elf, the companions came to the end of the Elwellyn Forest. With Rodruban among them the day before, they had pushed ahead cautiously but with as much speed as they could muster, in case the Death Elf followed them. However, Aiovel reassured them that he had gone on southwest following the group of maruading chamaelaeons, brubachwycs, and other unnatural monsters.
By mid-morning they had made it to the fringes of the woods. Ahead in the valley lay the lightly wooded plains between the forest and the Hills of Briodun. They walked east for several hours until the path from the forest ended and the trees behind vanished into a haze on the horizon.
"What was this place?" Mygdewyn asked as the company halted. The open ground ahead may once have been a great road to the East, but was now only a few broken stones.
"Ah, this, my friend, was the ancient highway." Galanor said. "We'll head due south from here toward Argolen. Providing all goes well, it should take us four days to get there," Galanor added. "But we'll be crossing over the eastern pass, so it may take longer."
"What are you doing, priest?" Dylan asked, as Ronan half-elf summoned a spell, kneeling beside the fallen stones, his body wrapped in a white aura.
"I was communicating with the stones," Ronan answered finally, drawing himself up.
"Oh, and what do the stones tell you?" Lilia said sarcastically, and the half-elf glared at her.
"This was once the crossroads used by a great number of elves." Ronan replied. "How long ago it was, I can't say. But the stones were brought here by them from far away. Since that time these trails have seen few travelers."
"What about stones in the city?" Dylan wondered, thinking of the intrigues in his own palace. "Can they tell you secrets?"
"I sort of have a problem talking to city stones, what with all the city noise," Ronan shook his head. "It's hard enough getting their attention in the first place, but stones also tend to be dull and rather stupid. It's much easier talking to trees. They're quite intelligent. But stones?— well, they usually aren't very agreeable, being stepped on all the time— ouch!"
Ronan's heel had come down on a sharp pebble as he shifted his weight. "Of course some stones are smoother than others," he said, rubbing his sore foot. Then he picked up the pebble and stared at it. "This little pebble seems to have a chip in its shoulder." He joked, and listened as the pebble slipped in his fingers restlessly.
"So, what does the pebble say?" Lilia inquired, nudging his shoulder.
"He says I have an awfully big mouth for a priest." Ronan glared at the pebble.
"I could have told you that," Lilia sniffed, "and without any help from rocks."
"Ah, yes," Ronan nodded, "but could you have told me about the dragons?"
"Dragons?" Galanor repeated, suddenly animated. "What kind of dragons?"
"A group of Emerald Dragons passed by here not long ago according to the pebble—it says it got kicked out of the stone bed by a dragon's tail." Ronan shrugged. "Though I can't say that I've ever heard of Emerald Dragons before."
"How strange," Dylan said thoughtfully. "I thought all dragons were black."
"We'd better get moving," Galanor said quickly.
* * * * *
Late that afternoon, Aiovel spotted the trail of monsters in the distance heading toward them from the East.
"Get down!" she commanded suddenly from the head of the company, and they dropped to the ground, obscured by the tall grasses of the plains. They waited in silence until the monsters had passed out of sight in the West. "I don't understand it." Aiovel said. "The Death Elf was right. I've never seen such a large number of them."
"W-were they—" Gil began, stuttering slightly.
"Sent by the Dark Wizard?" Aiovel finished. "Yes. But they won't all be able to pass through the barrier at the river. I wonder why he sent so many this time?" She lapsed into ponderous silence.
"Does he know we're coming after him?" Gil asked.
"I don't see how he could," Aiovel said, chewing her lower lip. "But why didn't the native beasts stop more of them?" She wondered aloud.
"Native beasts?" Lilia shivered. "Why would monsters try to stop other monsters?"
"Because the native beasts already compete with each other for food and space." Galanor said. "The monster armies of the Dark Wizard were magically created, but they are not invulnerable to the native creatures of this area. Even a brubachwyc is no match for a hungry Earth Dragon. And that is why the Dark Wizard's creatures have not swept over Gyfen by now through some weak point in the magic barrier.
"But there could be all manner of reasons why the monster army passed unmolested this far— disease or famine could be responsible for a decline in the number of native beasts. And a catastrophe for them could also mean trouble for Gyfen.
"Although," he added, "I had heard that the native monster population had been growing recently, and the magical boundary contains them as well, so..." he paused, bemused, then shrugged. "Maybe they simply aren't desperately hungry, not enough to want to attack a large army yet."
Aiovel raised an eyebrow.
"I admit that last conjecture is rather unlikely," Galanor conceded.
"To tell you the truth, I think it's strange that we haven't been attacked by any native creatures yet, either." Aiovel said. "They've been predictably aggressive up until now."
"Maybe the Dark Wizard considers them an obstacle." Dylan suggested.
"You think he's decided to get rid of the animals and monsters that already live here?" Galanor wondered.
"Possibly." He paused, considering, then broke into a smile. "Though, it is rather difficult to persuade a hundred-armed sea serpent to move from its dwelling place, and it's still more difficult to kill it, with magic or without. However, perhaps other weaker beasts are less immune to the Dark Wizard's magic. If he has used his magic to reduce them in number, it would certainly be easier for his monster army to reach the West."
"Who knows? But they're gone now," Ronan said, relieved, pointing to the western horizon. The line had passed out of sight.
* * * * *
The sky was clear that evening. They dared not light a fire in case it were seen. Galanor and Aiovel shared the first watch, Dylan and Mygdewyn took the second, then Lilia and Ronan took the third. Lilia had hoped to see Ronan's transformation into his elf form, but he had already changed by the time Dylan awakened them, only a few short hours before dawn.
Lilia yawned, managing her way to the lone tree at the edge of their camp.
"We're lucky not to have had the second watch," the elf commented after about an hour. Lilia had been nodding off, and Ronan had been forced to speak as loudly as he dared to keep her awake, but Lilia said nothing in response. "What do you think we'll find in the ruins of Argolen when we get there?" he asked, switching tactics. Lilia looked up.
"Hmmm. There's nothing in the world I like better than sapphires," she said. "But any gems will do. Maybe a trove of gold coins— or enchanted mirrors and amulets. Things I can sell back in Windfall—" she stopped just before she really got going as Ronan waved her to silence.
"Just a minute. I think I heard something." He said grimly. They stilled, and Ronan's sharp elf ears twitched.
"Wake up!" he shouted suddenly. "Wake up!" There was no time for Lilia to ask what he had heard.
A loud screech sounded over the camp, followed by a deep roar that echoed over the plains.
* * * * *
Gil woke to the sound of a shout. In the fog of a wet morning, it was pitch dark. He groped for his sword lying on the ground beside him, slung his pack over his back in case he needed to light the torch in it, and hopped to his feet. The loud cry of a monster suddenly pounded his ears, and he resisted the urge to cover them, letting the deafening noise pass.
Meanwhile, something grazed his left wrist, and it started to bleed slightly. Gil jumped aside, swashing his sword to fend off any attackers. The blade made contact with something moving and stuck. Gil was dragged several feet. He tried to free the sword and pulled once with all his might. He was thrown back, clutching his sword. Stumbling, he stood again and waited. He had been awake only about ten seconds.
A great puff sounded near him, and Gil blinked as a bright spark shot through the air at a dark, vulpine form more than ten feet tall. Some distance ahead of Gil, Aiovel's arms were raised, one hand grasping her blood-stained sword as her spell faded. A spark of light struck the creature, and Gil heard a great echoing wail. He hadn't seen anyone but Aiovel in the brief light, and the noise of monsters drowned out the voices of the others, making it impossible for him to find them. Gil headed toward Aiovel, smelling burning rotted flesh, when he suddenly collided with something—or someone.
"Stay still," Aiovel advised in a whisper. Gil hardly dared to breathe as he made out Aiovel's hands rising again. This time, they glowed with a bright flame. Gil could detect monsters encircling them but holding back, wary of the one with glowing hands. Then as he looked about, Gil caught a glint of a sword far away.
How did I get so far from camp? he wondered, realizing that more than a hundred feet lay between him and the sword's owner, Dylan. And in between them a horde of unnatural monsters had descended. Gil blinked as the illusion of a dragon's head formed in the light between Aiovel's hands and grew above her head. With a deafening, groundshaking blast, the light dragon roared, extending its flaming claws toward the front of the ring of monsters.
As the dragon claws slashed, Gil heard the hiss of flesh burning. The smoldering forms of a dozen creatures fell with a heavy thud. "Now, draw your sword!" Aiovel shouted, and she and Gil charged toward the remaining monsters.
Gil struck out madly, forgetting every lesson he'd had from Dylan and Mygdewyn. The monsters retreated from him, unsettled by his fervent but aimless strokes. Fear alone drove Gil on, fear for himself and for his friends. He tried to stay with Aiovel to protect her back as they were pushed farther away from the others.
As seemingly unending creatures waited to strike, Gil began to wonder if he and Aiovel were the only ones left alive. How could they manage to fend off so many? Gil recognized creatures that matched the brigand's description of brubachwycs, but they seemed the least menacing of all that he had seen. Black, twisting forms writhed beyond the light of Aiovel's spells.
Another horned beast rushed toward Gil, but this time he waited until it neared and thrust his sword at the head, severing it from the neck with one hard blow. As he struck, the sword he held began to glow with an inner light. It thrummed with a kind of power he could only begin to perceive. How easily he had sliced through the creature! The sword had passed through it as though it had been made of air. Now Gil felt the blade growing lighter in his hands, and his grip more sure.
Minutes passed as other creatures rushed in on them, and he and Aiovel did their best to drive them back. Gil heard Aiovel's blade sing through the air, felling the quick, dangerous brubachwycs as they charged and a great vulpine beast that had been heading toward Gil's weak flank. Gil felt a warm stream of blood at his heels, repelled by the elven magic of his new boots. Monster bodies lay piled around them, but Gil realized he and Aiovel would soon be trapped by the dead. Understanding this, Aiovel tapped his left shoulder as though she intended to move, and he followed her back as she quickly moved through a gap in the bodies. Several of the foul creatures headed toward them, sensing a momentary advantage.
But they had no chance against Aiovel. A fine blue luminous mist began to spread from her fingertips. As she moved toward the nearest creatures, this mist descended upon them, then suddenly turned into dragon-headed lightning bolts that sent them screaming back or left them writhing on the ground. Aiovel nodded in satisfaction then staggered back a moment, as though substantially weakened by the exertion of her spell. Gil looked around at the lifeless forms. None of the nearest creatures had survived.
"Gil," Aiovel said, tensing. "You've got to get out of here." She shuddered, though the air had been heated in the wake of her spells. She raised her sword again. Blood dripped down the blade and ran onto her fingers.
"But—"
"There is only one great creature left, Gil. It appears that the brubachwycs have decided to retreat. They know well enough when to give up, and the chamaelaeons will follow them, but the ibrun will follow us to Argolen if I do not face it now."
Ibrun? Gil wondered. What was an ibrun?
"Then let me fight this beast with you." Gil said bravely.
"That is a noble gesture, Gil, and it shows the worthiness of your heart," Aiovel said, "but you cannot help me. You have no experience against such a creature. Gil, you have to get out of here—"
"But I can't leave you," Gil hesitated. In any case, he didn't know where to go.
"Gil, you will not survive if you stay here." Aiovel shook her head firmly. "Do as I ask— go and find the others, if they have managed to escape. If Galanor isn't with them, their lives may depend on you."
"All right," Gil said reluctantly. "But, what exactly is an ibrun?"
"An ibrun," Aiovel replied, summoning grave composure, "is a young black dragon hatchling before it has gained many of its powers. It was stunned by the lightning earlier, but I fear it is recovering." She shook her head. "I thought I smelled their kind around here during my watch, but I was sure it was only the—
They heard a sudden eerie sound, a haunting, trumpeting call made by a very large beast.
"Listen, Gil," Aiovel said, taking something from the inner lining of her undershirt with her left hand. "Take this." She handed him something wrapped in two leaves from an Elwellyn tree. He unfolded the leaves and felt a silver ring in them.
"Put that on your finger." Aiovel continued. "If the others are up against ibruns, they'll need your help to escape. Escape they must. I warn you, do not try to fight the beasts. Now, go Gil. Hurry!" Gil hesitated only a second to slip the soft circle around his finger. At once, he saw the path below. The moon above must have appeared from behind the clouds, he thought.
As he hurried away, he heard another deafening blast behind him.
VIII: Separation
A moment after Ronan's warning, Lilia saw dark shapes surrounding them.
"Aieee!" she screamed as a large wolfen creature with great jaws leered at her. She jumped back and bumped into Ronan, knocking the staff from his hands. Several creatures rushed toward them as she fumbled in her cloak. Her fingers found a rough piece of bark, and she pulled the Wand of Lightning from her cloak.
"Do something, quickly!" Ronan managed, quickly retrieving his staff.
Lilia waved the wand in the air several times in circles, then she waved it up and down. Nothing happened.
"Blast this thing, it doesn't work!" She cried. The elf was busy, wrapped in a white aura that dissipated into the creatures around them. Lilia peered ahead in the fading light, looking to see if any of them fell.
They blinked at the girl and the elf as though undisturbed by the magic.
"What did you do to them?" Lilia asked, curious.
"I asked them not to hurt us," the elf replied as though the answer were quite obvious.
"Wonderful." Lilia whined. "Just my luck that you've turned into Ronan the elf idiot."
"Watch out!" A voice shouted nearby, and a figure jumped in front of them from their rear. A bright sword flashed in the air above them. A brubachwyc fell to the ground in front of them, gushing a fountain of blood that spurted up into the face of their savior.
"Galanor!" Lilia could have hugged him, but not now.