Elfhunter (52 page)

Gaelen and Nelwyn watched him go then turned to one
another, both their faces set. "I would not object to any insight
the Stone might give as to where our enemy is hiding," said
Gaelen.

"But you heard Fima—the Stone is unpredictable. Lord
Shandor does not perform on command, showing us what we desire to
see. If we look, we may even go mad!" said Nelwyn with a
shiver.

She was right to worry. Yet she had sought the
information because Fima was correct—Nelwyn had wanted to look into
the Stone and gain what it had to give. She turned to Gaelen. "Let
us seek out Arialde, and see whether she will agree. If so, and she
does not advise strongly against it, I would look into the Stone
with you." "Fine, then let us seek her tomorrow evening. I am
pleasantly weary from riding—it felt so good to roam free again! I
hope we can soon leave for the Greatwood. This is a delightful
place, and I am grateful for the time of healing, but we must move
on. So long as that creature exists, I will not truly rest. For
now, let’s ascend into the tree-tops. The rain has passed, and the
stars are bright tonight!" "First, I must find Galador. He worries
when he does not know my whereabouts," said Nelwyn.

Gaelen shook her head. "What harm could befall you in
Tal- sithian? Does he fear you will fall from a tree and break your
neck?" "Stop it, Gaelen! You know he simply wants to keep me
safe.

We may both find you later. The stars will be no less
bright then, you know."

Gaelen rose and turned from her. "Don’t bother to
find me later, Nelwyn. I’m certain Galador would much rather spend
time alone with you…yet again. I shall amuse myself on this fine
evening. I am merely grateful that he allowed you to ride with me
across such dangerous lands. We might have encountered some fierce
ground squirrel, or you might have fallen from your horse, who
knows?"

Gaelen knew that her words and the mildly disgusted
tone of her voice pained Nelwyn, but she didn’t care. She left her
gentle, good- natured cousin standing alone with nothing to say to
her as she went in search of Rogond.

Gaelen was still worried about Rogond’s reference to
her in Cós-domhain as his "love". She had not yet spoken of it with
him, but she knew that she must soon do so. Tonight was not the
time to bring up such things, however. The fact that Rogond was
nearby, and would no doubt be delighted to share the stars with
her, brought great comfort. She hoped he was not too weary, but if
so she would lie beside him and sing to him until the dawn
came.

Nelwyn found Galador almost immediately. He had, in
fact, been searching for her, not out of concern for her safety but
simply because he wished for her company. He embraced her, and she
expressed the desire to climb a tree and see the stars, which, as
Gaelen had predicted, were very bright now that the rain had
cleared and the moon had set.

"I suppose you will want to find Gaelen and ask her
to join us," said Galador good-naturedly. He normally enjoyed
Gaelen’s company, even if he did prefer being alone with
Nelwyn.

Nelwyn shook her head. "She does not want our company
tonight. I do so wish she did not begrudge my time with you. She’s
probably sulking right now. No matter, she will be in a better mind
by morning. She has not been herself since we rode out today and
met the Elves going to the Cold-spring. She felt something, and it
wasn’t good."

From their vantage-point beneath the stars, Nelwyn
told Galador of her intention to seek Arialde and request
permission to look into the Stone of Léir.

Galador frowned at her. "From what I’ve heard, the
Stone reveals little of joy and much of grief. It can be very
frightening and can even mislead if misinterpreted. Do as you will,
but know that my advice is to stay away from the Stone of Léir. And
by all means, keep Gaelen from it! She has no business being
anywhere near an object of such power." Then he shook his head, for
he knew there was about as much chance of Gaelen’s taking this
excellent advice as the Lord of Eádros giving the hand of his only
daughter to one of the dwarves of Rûmm.

Gaelen paused in her search for Rogond as she found
herself near the tall trees that surrounded the home of Arialde and
Lord Airan. Her curiosity had been awakened, and her hunter-scout’s
nature insisted that she should investigate the area, just in case.
Gaelen’s inquisitiveness was considered overdeveloped, even for a
Wood-elf, and Fima had practically dared her to try to find the
Stone, which she correctly guessed would not be too far away from
the abode of Arialde.

She moved through the darkness in absolute silence
until she finally caught a scent of the Lady, then she followed the
scent until it led her into a glade surrounded by thick, fragrant
cedars. Gaelen had hoped to find Arialde, but as she shyly entered
the glade her breath was taken by the sight of thousands of
fireflies flashing and hovering in the night air like gentle golden
sparks. She had never seen so many! They were obviously drawn to
the enormous crystal that stood upon a pedestal of carved red
granite, emitting a soft glow in the reflected light of the
fireflies and the bright stars.

Gaelen was drawn irresistibly toward it, despite her
feeling that not only should she avoid looking into its depths, but
that she probably should not have invaded the glade in the first
place. Still, she approached until she was near enough to mount the
base of the pedestal. The crystal glowed white before her, as if
sensing her desire, yet there was a slightly menacing aspect
emanating from it, as though it warned her to keep her eyes
elsewhere. Gaelen stood helpless for a moment, eyes shut tight, her
hands cold and her heart pounding. It was not too late to turn
about; but alas, she was the victim of her own inescapable
curiosity. After all, she probably would see nothing—hadn’t Fima
suggested that, outside the presence of the Lady, the Stone was
nothing but a large rock?

Gaelen opened her eyes and looked at the crystal with
a mixture of apprehension and wonder. What she saw was both
beautiful and intriguing. There were an infinite number of flat,
silvery planes within; they reflected the light in a myriad of
interesting ways. Gaelen wondered how the Stone would appear in
sunlight, and her eyes shone with delight at the thought of it.

A sudden feeling of foreboding came over her, and she
knew that she should look no further, but the crystal shifted even
as she tried to turn from it. An image began to form, and she began
to hear voices. The clear surface roiled as though under tremendous
heat, engulfing her senses with a vision so intense that she tried
to reel back from it. It was too late to turn aside, and she was
drawn into the grasp of the Stone, afflicted by a sight that she
should never have seen.

She felt her senses blurring and whirling in a mass
of light and sound, and she struggled to control the feeling that
she was falling headlong into a maelstrom. This terrible,
unsettling feeling of falling came to an abrupt end, but she was no
longer in the glade—she was standing on a battlefield. The vision
proceeded with inexorable, blinding speed. The Elves were
beleaguered by thousands of enemies—banners from many realms waved
their tattered, ghostly colors in a wind that stank of blood and
sulfur. Gaelen looked down at her hands, which were now encased in
armored gauntlets, realizing that she viewed this terrible scene
through the eyes of one of the warriors who had actually been
there. She could not control her body, not tear her eyes from the
scene before her.

There were many dark and evil creatures, wearing
black robes that glowed and flickered as though with fire. She
could not see their faces. Their fingers were long and gnarled,
with sharp claws, and they drove back the host of Elves with flames
that burst forth from their hands. Gaelen recognized Magra among
the Elves. He was struggling valiantly to get past the creatures,
to no avail. All about them was a suffocating cloud of fear.

In the center of the fray, two warriors strove with
one another to the death. One was immense, a terrible, monstrous
entity engulfed in peculiar dark flames that sprang from the core
of his own being. He wrestled in mortal combat with a smaller being
of no less brilliance— an Elven-lord, blue-white and blinding to
behold. Gaelen knew him at once! Her beloved Ri-Elathan strove
against the Lord of Black Flame, and she could neither aid him nor
prevent his terrible death.

The circle of demonic creatures kept any aid from
reaching the Elvenking, yet he fought to the limits of his
considerable power, and Wrothgar was weakening. But then, the
Shadowmancer opened his great maw, showing terrible sharp teeth,
and brought his flaming jaws down upon Ri-Elathan, biting hard into
his right shoulder. The flames spread from the wound, overpowering
the Light of truth, of courage and freedom, and Ri-Elathan was
slowly consumed by it, overcome by the power of Wrothgar’s evil.
Gaelen could smell the stench of brimstone and burning flesh.

Still Ri-Elathan fought, despite unspeakable pain,
screaming as the flames took him. Gaelen saw him turn his
determined, agonized face toward her, and she looked into the eyes
of her beloved Rain as Wrothgar overcame the last of his waning
power, quenching his light forever. Ri-Elathan continued to fight
as his life was ripped from him, his eyes unseeing, his jaws locked
in a final grimace of determination, but even as he died Gaelen
felt his bitter disappointment, for he knew that he had failed.
Wrothgar then threw his head back and laughed, hurling the body of
his victim past the dark circle of fire that surrounded them. It
landed, still aflame, at the feet of Magra.

Gaelen gave a heart-wrenching cry of despair, her
hands reaching toward the fading image of Farahin’s ruined,
smoldering body, cast aside by Wrothgar. She looked into his dead
eyes and read his despair in them. She also read his longing for
her. She cried again, screaming his name, horrified almost beyond
return...then she felt hands grasping her shoulders as someone
pulled her back from the Stone, turned her around, and called her
name in a powerful voice. "Gaelen! Gaelen! Do not keep this vision
in thy mind! Turn from it and come back to me. Come back! This
horror is long past. Come back. Shandor,
RELEASE HER!
"

The battlefield vanished. Gaelen opened her eyes and
beheld Arialde, whose eyes were filled with a reflection of the
same horror. She had known Ri-Elathan of old and had called him
friend. She held Gaelen for a moment, trying to calm her. Gaelen
quickly pulled herself away and stared into the eyes of perhaps the
most powerful being remaining in Alterra, knowing that Arialde had
shared this horrific vision with her. Though they had lasted only a
few moments, these images would remain forever etched in Gaelen’s
mind.

Look into my eyes, Gaelen Taldin!

The Lady searched the depths of Gaelen’s bright eyes
for a moment, and when she beheld no madness in them, she was
relieved. Arialde gripped Gaelen’s shoulders, chiding her gently,
though she was clearly sympathetic.

"You have a most unfortunate curiosity, Elf of
Greatwood. You should not have looked into the Stone without my
leave. Luckily I was nearby to aid you. I sorrow for your pain, but
you must never look into its depths again without my leave. Do you
understand?"

This admonition was completely unnecessary; Gaelen
had never understood anything so well. She was still trembling as
she spoke to Arialde.

"It…it was as though I actually stood in that
dreadful place! That was the most terrible sight I have ever
beheld. Does this mean that it actually happened in this manner? My
only love died so horribly and in such pain? Long have I known it
in my heart. I felt it upon that day, but never had I seen the
flames…or heard him screaming. Please, Lady, tell me that it did
not happen so, that this is some dreadful punishment for my
indiscretion."

But Arialde shook her head, her eyes full of regret.
"You
were
there, Gaelen, in a way. What you have witnessed
came to pass. In this case the truth was more than adequate
punishment for your transgression. Now, I would have you come to my
chambers, for I would assuage your pain and try to gladden your
heart, though I know I may not."

Arialde would lead Gaelen to the beautiful dwelling
of marble, where she would soothe her with tales of Farahin as she
had known him, before the shadow fell upon him. But as the Lady
turned to leave, she reached back to caress the Stone, as if to
calm the turbulence within it.

Shandor…beloved brother, what have you become?

The following day Nelwyn saw very little of her
cousin. Though Gaelen did have a somewhat volatile personality, she
was not known to sulk for more than an hour or two, and Nelwyn
began to become concerned when late afternoon came and she still
had not appeared. Nelwyn found Rogond relaxing with Thorndil and
Fima, and asked him whether he had seen Gaelen.

"No, I have not seen her since early yesterday,
before she went riding with you," replied Rogond, who was honing
his blade on an oil-stone. "She mentioned that she is now eager to
be away, and I am inclined to agree. The Greatwood lies many
leagues from here, and the journey may be difficult. The sooner we
reach it, the better. I hope I will find welcome there." Rogond
remembered the disapproving looks he had received from some of the
Sylvan folk, including the King. "I am not certain where we should
plan to spend the winter, but I would prefer to avoid crossing the
mountains again!"

At this, Fima laughed. "Indeed! What sensible being
crosses the mountains in late winter? Proof that Elves have a short
supply of wits, if you ask me," he said, winking at Nelwyn, who
drew herself up and lifted her chin in mock hauteur.