the-demon-awakens

Elbryan's father had assured him that Wyndon boys were normally late in sprouting.

The spirit had come back to Corona encased in obsidian!

Behind them, Dundalis sat quiet and dark.

The young monk nodded slightly.

A thin crack ran down the center of the obsidian sarcophagus.

Its gray rock walls seemed to grow right from the solid stone, an extension of the earth's power.

The boy looked away, angry at himself for allowing such feelings.

The wicked goblins certainly, so full of anger and greed, so delighting in murder and war.

Gradually a smile found its way back onto her face, her dimples showing the slightest blush of red.

Juraviel didn't have to look Tuntun's way to know her pose, for the obstinate elf struck it often.

Its gray rock walls seemed to grow right from the solid stone, an extension of the earth's power.

Olwan Wyndon told the tale again in full to the gathering, trying hard not to embellish it.

Panic hit him, wrestling hard with a jumble of other emotions that Elbryan did not understand.

Elbryan and Pony lingered long by the corpse, studying it intently.

A grinding sound, the great gates sliding open, brought the young man from his contemplations.

Pony sighed, too, and shook her head as if to show her ultimate frustration with adults.

Pony shrugged, not willing to discount the possibility of giants, not after viewing a dead goblin.

Most listened politely but turned up their eyes and shook their heads whenever Brody looked away.

They sat together, yet apart, separated by a couple of feet and by the wall of Elbryan's confusion.

Immediately a pair of mugs came up into the air from the side of the room.

Its thoughts turned from its enemies to those it would summon as minions.

Pony squeezed in tight between two buildings and put her head against a wall.

Elbryan was glad that the distracted girl had not noticed his own shade of red.

Pony spoke the words again, under her breath.

All that she wanted now was to get away, far away.

The shining sword, the horse's run, The bane of monsters all and one.

For the demonic creature in the cave, such questions hardly mattered.

The look the stocky man gave him in reply did little to allay the monk's mounting suspicions.

The new class of twenty-five stood one behind the other.

Weasel?" The centaur snorted.

The object on the fourth shoulder pole, each man realized, would be enough to get the lesson across.

What song is this, drift through the trees To lift men broken from their knees?

All the world seemed still, not a bird calling, not a whisper of wind.

Pony fell to her knees and began to scrape the ground at the base of Olwan's house.

Faith heeded no proof - indeed the very value of faith was loyalty to beliefs without proof!

She reached deeper, perhaps a foot and a half down, and her hand met cold, wet ground.

The snicker was soon gone, but the smile remained, all the wider for the sight.

Avelyn was the youngest of ten, and his parents had been well into their forties when he was born.

For the demonic creature in the cave, such questions hardly mattered.

Salvatore Copyright 1996 The demon dactyl came awake.

Its head, too, was somewhat human, except more angular, with a narrow jaw and pointed chin.

They sat together, yet apart, separated by a couple of feet and by the wall of Elbryan's confusion.

After a moment of shock, the goblins had thrown their spears, injuring one man.

How many decades, even centuries, had passed since its last visit to Corona?

The tangible, corporeal body felt good to the wandering spirit.

Pony spoke the words again, under her breath.

He looked ahead at the evergreen vale and noted to his dismay that a fight was going on down there.

Olwan Wyndon nodded, not wanting to get Brody into one of his legendary fits of outrage.

CHAPTER 3 The Lingering Kiss Things quieted quickly in Dundalis.

He dressed quickly, fumbling with his clothes in the red light of the hearth's glowing embers.

The mysteries of stone magic could not be explained away by human desires of control and order.

A grinding sound, the great gates sliding open, brought the young man from his contemplations.

Dinoniel himself had come into this cave after the beast, had skewered the dactyl...

A trip line here, a disguised patch of slick mud on a corner there.

The ruby was thrumming in his hand, its magic intense and straining for release.

Juraviel walked past Elbryan to the trough and dipped his cupped hands in.

Or was it something more profound?

Goblins were little seen creatures; many considered them more myth than truth.

Then he saw the goblin, coming fast, half a spear in its hands.

He felt warm suddenly, a bit dizzy, a bit frightened.

Elbryan's father had assured him that Wyndon boys were normally late in sprouting.

Elbryan held his breath, gasped once, then held it again.

Then he wanted to turn back, to run into the hollow and cover his face.

Jilseponie moved first, a single, tiny step, her arm reaching out helplessly.

Scores and scores of small arrows, filling the air all about him!

He found a tall pine with low-hanging branches and slipped underneath them into the natural tent.

The object on the fourth shoulder pole, each man realized, would be enough to get the lesson across.

Pony recognized the frustration in his voice, though he did well to hide it.

The chin was narrow, but the jowls wide with muscle.

He caressed her neck, ran his hand down her side and along the outside of her strong leg.

Realizing she hadn't been hit by anything, she put her feet back under her and ran on.

He had two score lined up in the field, and so he decided to bury them alone.

Stubborn to the end, he stabbed again as hard as he could, then closed his eyes.

Work in the village was at full pace, readying for winter.

It was a powrie mannikin, Avelyn realized.

Elbryan saw the dark stain near those hands.

Elbryan moved up to the comer of the next house, smiling for his cleverness, and peered around.

Immediately a pair of mugs came up into the air from the side of the room.

At gentle hands of elven breed.

The snicker was soon gone, but the smile remained, all the wider for the sight.

Scatter, goblins, fly and flee!

Elbryan went left, shadowing a group of three.

Yes, the dark vibrations were running strong through the stone.

He should organize his friends - yes, that was the course, he decided.

He stopped at the door, bowed his head; and closed his eyes, conjuring images of the young Avelyn.

Now at the taffrail the four monks and Captain Adjonas watched the powries' progress.

Their last few days together, alone for four of every five hours, had brought them even closer.

She saw the image of dead Olwan again, and the last glimpse of her father.

Pony lost sight of her father immediately, mercifully.

Pony picked her way around the back of the nearest houses, moving in and out of the shadows.

Pony knew him so very well, better than he knew himself.

The starkness of the scene from this vantage point, in this mounting light, amazed the companions.

He wanted to punch out at the tall master for even insinuating otherwise.

For the demonic creature in the cave, such questions hardly mattered.

Scores and scores of small arrows, filling the air all about him!

He stared at the water for a moment, eyeing its hue, then sniffed its delicate bouquet.

Perhaps he would shine in the heavens above, a fifth light on the girdle of Progos-Behemoth!

His hands did move now, as he lost his fear of touching Pony.

The shining sword, the horse's run, The bane of monsters all and one.

Jojonah's explanation for the tour had been weak, some remark about an area that needed cleaning.

Every part of the demon was a weapon, devastating and deadly.

He was in a forest, he understood - he was ankle deep in fallen leaves.

Jilseponie moved first, a single, tiny step, her arm reaching out helplessly.

Their last few days together, alone for four of every five hours, had brought them even closer.

The demon spirit fell deep within itself, summoned its powers, both physical and magical.

He dressed quickly, fumbling with his clothes in the red light of the hearth's glowing embers.

Elbryan, dazed, his breath blasted away, nearly fainted.

He looked at Pony and winked, and was surprised when she returned the gesture with a serious frown.

How many others could look upon the Halo and understand the beauty of the thing?

Now she remembered her training, forced herself to think clearly and concisely.

He sat up straight, then rolled to put his legs under him.

Pony let out a cry, hurled one of her stones at the creature, and ran off.

Elbryan held his breath, thinking that Pony's mother, often stern, would scold the girl severely.

The place was not bright, having only a handful of tiny windows set high up on the tall walls.

Then he saw the goblin, coming fast, half a spear in its hands.

Elbryan held his breath, thinking that Pony's mother, often stern, would scold the girl severely.

Then all was gray, then black.

Silently mouthing that litany, Elbryan inched his face toward the edge of the pine.

Pony sighed, too, and shook her head as if to show her ultimate frustration with adults.

The girl was not looking ahead, though, but at the ridge to the south behind them.

We shall be running against the weather at least until we have turned south of All Saints Bay.

Jayson only hoped that he could somehow get her home, into her own bed, before she died.

Pony dared to reach out then; the connection was too strong to let the moment pass.

By sheer will and brute strength, the dactyl flexed its wings.

Carved into the roof were four arms, two sets, hands lifted high, palms open and holding stones.

The goblin on his left came in hard and straight.

He remembered his companion, his earlier feelings, and turned away from Pony, blushing fiercely.

Olwan Wyndon told the tale again in full to the gathering, trying hard not to embellish it.

Its thoughts turned from its enemies to those it would summon as minions.

The demon spirit fell deep within itself, summoned its powers, both physical and magical.

Her lips, too, were large and thick.

He looked at Pony and winked, and was surprised when she returned the gesture with a serious frown.

Dundalis had been home to more than a hundred folk; how long would it take to bury them all?

Elbryan drew out his short sword, glancing warily into the shadows.

Powries were skinny dwarfs, barely four feet in height.

He felt warm suddenly, a bit dizzy, a bit frightened.

The wicked goblins certainly, so full of anger and greed, so delighting in murder and war.

This was Shane McMichael's house in front of her, Olwan Wyndon's right behind her.

Jojonah looked back at the courtyard, to Avelyn at work as always as though nothing was amiss.

Jojonah nodded but said, "Not exactly true." Avelyn stared at him hard.

He dashed back up the slope, finally getting to the boy.

The tangible, corporeal body felt good to the wandering spirit.

Elbryan savored every word, envisioning the battle clearly.

What song is this, drift through the trees To lift men broken from their knees?

Jilseponie understood then that she had been unconscious for a long time.

He looked ahead at the evergreen vale and noted to his dismay that a fight was going on down there.

To untwist hearts from grasping sorrow, To offer the promise of the morrow?

She saw the image of dead Olwan again, and the last glimpse of her father.

Again it was the smell of his burning village that cleared his head.

Hooves of music rend the gloom Bearing Nightbird, know your doom!

Master Siherton wouldn't even look his way, and Avelyn could sense that the man desired his failure.

And of the other patrol, who had battled in the wide pine valley among the caribou moss?

He didn't want to do that; the last notion in his mind was to pull away.

She slapped away his grabbing hands, then slugged him twice in the face.

The object of Thagraine's death, a huge purple amethyst, held Avelyn's attention.

The goblin staggered weirdly, dropped its weapon, and fell to its knees.

Yet he could not deny the tug of that lone, smoking mountain, calling to him, compelling him .

Hot blood waft steam in night air cold.

The girl was not looking ahead, though, but at the ridge to the south behind them.

He felt a part of the larger and higher truths, a oneness with the universe.

Often I sit and stare at the stars, wondering, wandering.

As villagers died, more and more goblins were free to run about.

Goblins were little seen creatures; many considered them more myth than truth.

Not a single person or even a horse remained alive.

Jojonah's explanation for the tour had been weak, some remark about an area that needed cleaning.

He looked to the north again, peering hard just above the horizon.

Tuntun, almost expecting the attack from this man who so hated her, was not caught by surprise.

Work in the village was at full pace, readying for winter.

If Quintall tried to sneak in and push that crank, it would likely cost them both their meal.

The ruby, shining with power, arced lazily over the open hatch.

But the giant had seen the move dozens of times in its battles with little folk.

Grady then gave a curt bow and rushed away, back to a wide-smiling Pettibwa.

She only sighed, though, and resignedly closed the cabin door.

On the ridge and in the vale beyond, the primary enemy became boredom.

Strike, parry, strike - the same routine.

Over and over they rolled, tumbling down the slope, punching and thrashing.

Why even you ..." Jojonah's voice trailed off, a tease that anxious Avelyn could not ignore.

They stopped before a heavy door - and what a door!

To cry would be a weakness, Avelyn reasoned, a lack of faith.

The giant's hand covered the tall man's entire forearm.

The sun seemed a gray blur above him, a lighter spot in the sky.

And when he slipped back beside the tenth and last basket, he saw steam still rising from his tea.

Elbryan clutched his staff and set his heels.

Her husband held her tight then, understanding her pain, both physical and emotional.

Avelyn calmed quickly; surely they did recognize the jewel, and apparently, it did not bother them.

A moment later, the master opened his eyes.

Desperately, the young man scrambled to the side, trying to ready a defense.

He could laugh at that embarrassment now, privately or even with Pony.

He screwed up his face, the ridiculous nickname sounding foolish in his ears.

Its feel was impossibly smooth, almost liquid.

The young man simply had no answers now.

Quintall glowered at Smealy, the old sea dog trembling with frustration.

The creature went berserk, kicking and thrashing, flopping like a landed fish.

He was at ease again, the uncomfortable feelings tossed out with the mystery of the night.

But the giant had seen the move dozens of times in its battles with little folk.

Avelyn had known, that she would never see her son in this world again.

All advantage was lost as the young man stumbled, the loose earth slipping out from under his foot.

Pony smiled warmly, feeling that she had done well.

Her lips, too, were large and thick.

They had fallen as if they had formed a defensive ring, yet there were no human bodies near them.

She looked in every direction, trying to find some course out of the town to the trees.

All the world seemed still, not a bird calling, not a whisper of wind.

The master paused and lamented his own weakness.

Not until this day, he silently added, looking at the slain goblin.

Avelyn's expression did not change.

He blushed deeply and lowered his head, taking a quick glance all around.

The whole village had buzzed about the house because Olwan Wyndon was laying a stone foundation.

Surely the Father Abbot and the masters recognized the jewel for what it was.

Tuntun was wrong, Juraviel knew without any doubt at all; this one had character.

Candlelight spilled out onto the road, softly illuminating the girl.

Seven goblins came into sight, trotting easily down the slope.

Then the world was spinning as Elbryan bounced and rolled.

Up went the blade over his left shoulder.

Juraviel shrugged, a flitting little movement of his slender shoulders.

Her lips, too, were large and thick.

He looked at the brush helplessly, at the steaming stew, just a few strides away.

Finally, the stinging ended, and the fomorian tried to move forward, back toward its prey.

He blushed deeply and lowered his head, taking a quick glance all around.

To his rubbing fingers, the hematite felt truly liquid then, and inviting.

Somehow, that morning, it didn't matter.

Hot blood waft steam in night air cold.

He closed his eyes and began chanting softly, falling into the magic of the powerful hematite.

Pony spun and jumped on it, flailing wildly with both fists, kicking and kneeing viciously.

Soon the sky was clear above him, the first stars twinkling into view.

The demon spirit fell deep within itself, summoned its powers, both physical and magical.

The day was late, and gray clouds were rolling in to hide the afternoon sun.

The black-winged demon looked down at a darker red tear marring its otherwise smooth hide.

To his rubbing fingers, the hematite felt truly liquid then, and inviting.

Not a single person or even a horse remained alive.

Jayson only hoped that he could somehow get her home, into her own bed, before she died.

To his rubbing fingers, the hematite felt truly liquid then, and inviting.

Juraviel didn't have to look Tuntun's way to know her pose, for the obstinate elf struck it often.

I'll take yer watch." Jill knew better.

His faith was intact and solid, and so he was not desecrating the memory of his mother.

Elbryan went left, shadowing a group of three.

Elbryan held his breath, thinking that Pony's mother, often stern, would scold the girl severely.

All too soon, before he had even finished with the first basket, his forearms ached from the effort.

He moved slowly, quietly, away from Carley's body, taking cover behind a larger tree.

He was on the floor then, but did not know how he had gotten there.

Elbryan and Jilseponie stood perfectly still, stricken.

Master Jojonah settled back on his heels but met the penetrating stare firmly.

She reached deeper, perhaps a foot and a half down, and her hand met cold, wet ground.

Protests, laughter, taunts all came back in reply from many different places.

If Quintall tried to sneak in and push that crank, it would likely cost them both their meal.

Elbryan conferred with Avelyn first, to confirm the potential of the magical stones.

The kiss shifted, from curiosity to urgency, then back to gentleness.

Pony paused and watched him, confused a at first.

Pony lost sight of her father immediately, mercifully.

Its chin came to rest on its chest, and it held the kneeling pose, quite dead.

Someone like Quintall, a young' man full of fire and full of life.

For the demonic creature in the cave, such questions hardly mattered.

He felt a part of the larger and higher truths, a oneness with the universe.

She took a moment to consider where she was, whose house this was, and she stifled a sob.

He wanted to be closer to Pony, physically and emotionally.

He imagined the wind, the green treetop canopy speeding below him ...

Jill wasn't sure if she was glad of that or not.

Dinoniel and much of his army had been consumed and destroyed, but the dactyl...

Over and over they rolled, tumbling down the slope, punching and thrashing.

He caught the trunk of a young maple and swung about it, turning in the direction of the voice.

He moved slowly, quietly, away from Carley's body, taking cover behind a larger tree.

Elbryan resisted the sudden and inexplicable urge to run over and kiss Pony.

That done, he hoisted the last basket and started back the half mile to the trough.

With great effort, Elbryan tore his gaze from the dreadful spectacle below and glanced all around.

Elbryan walked a crooked path to the food and stubbornly salvaged what he could.

Everything was confusion, screams and cries of pain.

They'll not let a ship sail from them, nor do they have room for prisoners!

He went at once to the captain, demanding an explanation.

Elbryan was glad that the distracted girl had not noticed his own shade of red.

Now she remembered her training, forced herself to think clearly and concisely.

Jilseponie moved first, a single, tiny step, her arm reaching out helplessly.

She peeked around the corner and stood transfixed.

The woman was not simple, far from it.

They had to be for him, for they would obviously fit none other in Caer'alfar.

He moved to blow out the candle, then changed his mind and settled back on the cot.

He could put a dagger in his hand and curl his arm in such a way that he might strike as the viper.

And there were other goblins in the woods, coming in a few at a time.

Its chin came to rest on its chest, and it held the kneeling pose, quite dead.

Pony knew that she could not move it again from this new angle, and so she didn't even try.

It moved nimbly from branch to branch, crossing over to nearby trees with barely a whisper.

After a moment of shock, the goblins had thrown their spears, injuring one man.

How her blue eyes widened when she saw the pole's tip come up to meet her descent!

He found strength in duty, and that duty lay in burying the dead.

Five running strides brought him to the goblin, who didn't hear his approach until the last second.

Behind them, Dundalis sat quiet and dark.

How could anyone, or anything, that could pipe so beautifully pose a danger?

Elbryan turned to follow her gaze, and he, too, could not suppress a grin.

He needed something new, something Tuntun had not seen from him and could not expect.

She lived on, in sickness, only to see me enter the Order of St.-Mere-Abelle.

With a grimace of determination, Elbryan halved the distance to his foe.

Avelyn's brown robes were tattered and dripping; he had the stench of burned hair about him.

It floated through-the chill air, barely perceptible.

Pony spun and jumped on it, flailing wildly with both fists, kicking and kneeing viciously.

He had two score lined up in the field, and so he decided to bury them alone.

He caught the trunk of a young maple and swung about it, turning in the direction of the voice.

He looked at the flustered young monk, then across the deck at the other three.

This time, the screams were real.

Olwan snorted and shrugged his muscular shoulders.

His thoughts careened suddenly back to Pony and the kiss at the twin pines atop the ridge.

Pony was a girl, after all, and though Elbryan would openly admit that she was a friend, such deeper feelings were truly horrifying.

He had two score lined up in the field, and so he decided to bury them alone.

With a growl, Avelyn pushed on, finally reaching the tiring Quintall.

All the forest seemed to join in - the gusty breezes, the birdsong, the croaking of frogs.

For the demonic creature in the cave, such questions hardly mattered.

Its head, too, was somewhat human, except more angular, with a narrow jaw and pointed chin.

He dressed quickly, fumbling with his clothes in the red light of the hearth's glowing embers.

The black-winged demon looked down at a darker red tear marring its otherwise smooth hide.

Finally, the stinging ended, and the fomorian tried to move forward, back toward its prey.

Work in the village was at full pace, readying for winter.

The girl was not looking ahead, though, but at the ridge to the south behind them.

It had awakened, darkness rising, and already its influence was spreading throughout Corona.

The day was late, and gray clouds were rolling in to hide the afternoon sun.

Elbryan looked at Pony, who seemed to be growing quite bored by it all, and motioned to the door.

The fomorian charged ahead with a tremendous, hideous howl, its cudgel going high.

Jojonah nearly laughed aloud at the spectacle, and held forth the hematite.

Elbryan halted in mid-spin, reversed his energy, and sent the staff straight out and back.

The monk crouched low, bent his legs, and tightened his muscles, measuring the dog's swift approach.

The wicked goblins certainly, so full of anger and greed, so delighting in murder and war.

Indeed, the two seemed obviously mismatched.

The Forest Ghost was a common legend in the Timberlands.

Quintall was carrying over the nighttime rivalry.

His direction chosen, he started off, determined to find the singer.

The land was relatively flat and brown, with sparse low shrubs poking here and there.

As he spoke, the elf fingered a green stone, serpentine, feeling its subtle vibrations.

She didn't care, for she wasn't really running into battle.

He moved quickly, stumbling - often and cursing himself silently for every stick snapping sound.

The night was dark about him; his neck ached from holding the position for so long.

Dinoniel himself had come into this cave after the beast, had skewered the dactyl...

Elbryan and his friends, some as young as six or seven, saw their chance unfolding.

Their course was more gentlemanly, less straightforward, but.

Out came the bear in full charge, roaring.

So many emotions and memories had come rushing to the surface.

Master Jojonah shrugged; it was not important.

Nonetheless, Jojonah began to protest again, but Markwart cut him short.

Avelyn looked back to see her stretched languidly on the bed, blue eyes sparkling.

Pony shrugged, not willing to discount the possibility of giants, not after viewing a dead goblin.

Shocked back to his senses, Avelyn turned his attention to the high roof directly below him.

It pleased her greatly to help out Elbryan, to guard his emotions.

Pony ran off, stumbled and fell, then scrambled on all fours - anything to get away.

Now she remembered her training, forced herself to think clearly and concisely.

So foolish Avelyn wasn't really any serious threat to the abbey or to the Order.

Only a coward would shoot from the boughs.

Smealy pulled away, coughing and, predictably, turned to the crew for help.

The sheer power of the friar astounded Jill.

The boy believed the sun to be in the west, halfway from noon to sunset.

It was heavier than Avelyn had expected, quite solid and dense.

The younger children came out in a mob, swarming around the older pair.

His next youngest sibling was seven years his senior, and so he wasn't really close to any of them.

She stood and stared, and a numbness came over her, stealing her emotions.

Her husband held her tight then, understanding her pain, both physical and emotional.

Pony wasn't armed, having left her club back at the ridge.

They would sit and stare at the stars.

When the ways of merchants turn cheating, When the legs of women bow, When gain is ill not just.

They left the grove soon after, to find an evening meal.

What enemies had this wild monk made?

There would be a measure in this of his manhood, Avelyn realized, a test he could not fail.

The young monk was a good choice, a God-given choice indeed, to go to Pimaninicuit.

Its gray rock walls seemed to grow right from the solid stone, an extension of the earth's power.

Elbryan conceded the point, though he still thought Brody Gentle more bluster than truth.

CHAPTER 1 The Unexpected Kill Elbryan Wyndon was up before the dawn.

Then they heard a distant piping, soft music, perfect melody.

There should have been a second sentry there, the relaying voice to the soldiers within.

Finally he stopped, realizing it was dead, that it could no longer hurt him.

He didn't want to do that; the last notion in his mind was to pull away.

For Elbryan, knowing Bradwarden was a wonderful thing indeed.

Elbryan fell back behind the twin pines, catching the shout in his throat, gasping for breath.

A short distance away, Elbryan sat bolt upright, confused.

Brother Avelyn's thoughts were full of that island and of the long voyage ahead of him.

Bradwarden belched again, and then he launched into a long speech about the ills of humankind.

CHAPTER 4 The Death of Dundalis Elbryan and Pony were stunned and terrified for many seconds.

Elbryan saw the bright red gash, the white of split bone, the grayish brain.

Still the tears came; every so often his even tone was broken by a sniffle or a sob.

This is fact, it has begun and there can be no turning back.

Stupid badger, Elbryan thought, and stupid Pony for opening that wound once again.

The day was late, and gray clouds were rolling in to hide the afternoon sun.

But Avelyn caught his fears in time and started the journey once more.

His hands grew clammy - more out of sheer fear than anticipation.

A soft melody vibrated in his ear, somewhere just below his consciousness.

Was it, as Siherton insisted, the young man's apparent inhumanity?

Back at the trough, Elbryan began his more difficult work.

Elbryan still could not navigate this area, but he was gaining some understanding.

She didn't miss Elbryan's third snort.

By right, Connor could have demanded her execution.

There was something in the mirror, just beyond his vision!

Quite a bit of juice might be ruined, but Juraviel figured the loss was worth it.

Then the great stallion leaped away, thundering back into the shadows, into the brush.

Theologians of Corona argued over whether the demon dactyl was the source or the result of evil.

Silently mouthing that litany, Elbryan inched his face toward the edge of the pine.

In the Way the hearth was always blazing, the beds were always soft, and the song was always loud.

Still, the vicious monk would have let it go, but then Tenegrid made a dangerous mistake.

Elbryan pulled back his trembling hand, staring wide-eyed at the bright blood that now covered it.

Elbryan was glad that the distracted girl had not noticed his own shade of red.

This was his game, his force to command.

He marveled at the loose structure of the wood, at the density of the higher room's tile floor.

He turned about, regarding the giant, which was dancing and slapping at the air.

But the young man held faith and passed his hopes down the line.

Jojonah's explanation for the tour had been weak, some remark about an area that needed cleaning.

Avelyn calmed quickly; surely they did recognize the jewel, and apparently, it did not bother them.

She caught up to her friend at the top of the ridge.

They would be stranded in open water, and thus, surely doomed.

Dinoniel and much of his army had been consumed and destroyed, but the dactyl...

To completely lose the respect of Thagraine, or any of the others, could jeopardize it all.

Candlelight spilled out onto the road, softly illuminating the girl.

She only sighed, though, and resignedly closed the cabin door.

He would have leaped clear of the phony, only to drop heavily into the real one.

Blocked by the wall of the house, Pony couldn't follow the man's ascent.

Carley dan Aubrey, one of the younger scouts, staggered toward him, his face ashen, both hands clenched firmly to his right side at his waist.

Olwan Wyndon told the tale again in full to the gathering, trying hard not to embellish it.

Brother Avelyn is the best of the lot." The words stung Siherton profoundly.

He tried to yell out in protest, but had no breath.

It had awakened, darkness rising, and already its influence was spreading throughout Corona.

Now she remembered her training, forced herself to think clearly and concisely.

Over and over they rolled, tumbling down the slope, punching and thrashing.

The very next day, Elbryan hit the target two out of every three shots.

Elbryan and Pony lingered long by the corpse, studying it intently.

To untwist hearts from grasping sorrow, To offer the promise of the morrow?

If that failed, the next task was to save as many individuals as possible.

Elbryan looked at Pony, who seemed to be growing quite bored by it all, and motioned to the door.

He awoke with the dawn - and with resolve.

The place was not bright, having only a handful of tiny windows set high up on the tall walls.

Tuntun had little fondness for the big, bumbling humans.

Five running strides brought him to the goblin, who didn't hear his approach until the last second.

Something daring, even desperate, like the shadow dive Tallareyish had used to defeat him.

Stay back from the catapults, I warn you.

I hold no comforting illusions; that group is in danger as great as my own.

They sat together, yet apart, separated by a couple of feet and by the wall of Elbryan's confusion.

He noted the elf's spring, heard the wings fluttering.

The giant's hand covered the tall man's entire forearm.

The demon spirit fell deep within itself, summoned its powers, both physical and magical.

Avelyn thought his very skin would slip off his body, a great rag, and fall rumpled to the deck.

Theologians of Corona argued over whether the demon dactyl was the source or the result of evil.

She noted the great numbers of dead goblins, even a couple of giants.

But the old sea dog couldn't fathom the level of physical training these four men had endured.

Pony ran on desperately, blinded by tears.

And a large one; there had to be forty people inside, filling the tavern from wall to wall.

There were no lines of defense anymore, no organized pockets of resistance.

But still she feared that his decision was folly, based on his underestimating the pain within her.

Elbryan knew it, yet he did not slow his pace and did not alter his course.

It was a lie, Elbryan knew, all of it.

Elbryan's father had assured him that Wyndon boys were normally late in sprouting.

Avelyn nodded, accepting the news.

When the goblin came over, its own weight forced it down on Elbryan's sword.

If that failed, the next task was to save as many individuals as possible.

What creatures could the dactyl gather this time to wage its war?

Again it was the smell of his burning village that cleared his head.

The object on the fourth shoulder pole, each man realized, would be enough to get the lesson across.

He heard the footsteps as the band of pursuing goblins closed the distance to him.

His expression blank, he merely shrugged.

He caressed her neck, ran his hand down her side and along the outside of her strong leg.

He considered the stones Master Siherton had carried to the ship: a diamond and a smoky quartz.

He tucked his hands into his rope belt, taking on an important attitude.

She came into the camp quietly and moved right across the way from him without a word.

The daytime training was not as easy or as inspiring for Avelyn.

Winter was still present in this part of Andur'Blough Inninness, but its grip was fast loosening.

Then they heard a distant piping, soft music, perfect melody.

It told him these creatures were not of the evil goblin race; these were friends to be trusted.

On the ridge and in the vale beyond, the primary enemy became boredom.

It moved nimbly from branch to branch, crossing over to nearby trees with barely a whisper.

These weren't particularly nasty traps, designed more to embarrass than to injure.

He looked to Jojonah and saw that the master was clutching the chrysoberyl close to his heart.

Avelyn asked no questions, nor did Quintall, who was swimming hard for the rope.

He could make it, he told himself grimly.

When would that bucket finally appear?

Olwan started away, and McMichael calmed and moved to follow.

Elbryan didn't answer, but that familiar sparkle fit up his eyes.

Elbryan looked at him curiously; of course he was aiming at the target!

Back left, back right, each time the angle shifting to defeat the intended attack.

Silently mouthing that litany, Elbryan inched his face toward the edge of the pine.

Dark thoughts could not be sustained in the place where Juraviel's people danced and played.

She knew her name now; and suspected that alone would begin to bring other memories back to her.

Around and around the weapons went, reminding Elbryan of her uncanny dexterity.

Then he wanted to turn back, to run into the hollow and cover his face.

She rolled to the lip of the ledge, pulled her mask further down, and vomited.

He paused and listened hard, certain there was something out there beyond his vision.

Symphony would come back to him, he knew, would let him ride again, but.

She cupped Elbryan's chin in one hand and gently turned him back to face her.

She heard the crack of bone as her knee connected with his face.

Scores and scores of small arrows, filling the air all about him!

To see such human frailty in the masters of St.-Mere-Abelle touched the very core of Avelyn's faith.

Sometime later, as dusk descended, Pony's senses warned her that she was not alone.

He moved up the side of one steep hill, peering intently into every shadow.

Pony fell to her knees and began to scrape the ground at the base of Olwan's house.

Elbryan felt no desire to tease when looking at Pony's lips now.

Avelyn ran from the chapel, skittering down the empty halls, his footsteps echoing noisily.

Then he sent it straight out a second time, cutting short the thrust as the elf predictably ducked.

Did such a thing as the Halo even exist, or was her memory a mere fantasy?

He felt warm suddenly, a bit dizzy, a bit frightened.

Brother Justice knifed his hand into her throat, dropping her back to the snow and dirt.

He moved quickly, stumbling - often and cursing himself silently for every stick snapping sound.

You have a few minutes left for your midday meal." Avelyn bowed deeply and exited the room.

She reflexively cocked a fist, and Elbryan wisely jumped back.

Pony grinned warmly, hoping he was right.

Every dip and sudden rise blurred his vision, scrambled his thoughts.

He hit the ground in a roll but slammed hard against a tree trunk as he came around.

It moved nimbly from branch to branch, crossing over to nearby trees with barely a whisper.

Still his eyes searched the corners of the shadowy room for his mother's spirit.

He was some distance down the corridor and still he heard complaining near the Abbot's door.

He led the two masters back to Avelyn and bade the young man to look up at him.

Then the ranger went back to watching, thinking that the mad monk would soon tire.

How Avelyn wished that Dansally were there!

One had many daggers within easy grasp, hanging on a bandolier that crisscrossed his chest.

They sat together, yet apart, separated by a couple of feet and by the wall of Elbryan's confusion.

Its limbs were slender and long and its armor a silver shining coat of fine interlocking links.

The dactyl could not take direct credit, but that mattered little.

He blushed deeply and lowered his head, taking a quick glance all around.

She hoped Elbryan would wage a gallant war now, with an outcome similar to her own.

The four were at the port rail out of sight of the barrelboat soon after.

All jealousy aside, Elbryan found the taller Pony quite a pleasing sight.

They watched, chattering wildly, trying to count and to guess who was leading but getting confused as parts of the line wove in and out of the tree shadows.

He found a tall pine with low-hanging branches and slipped underneath them into the natural tent.

He was a handsome man of thirty years, nearly twice Cat's age, with sharp brown eyes.

Jojonah waved his hand and shook his head, uninterested.

Twin rows of massive columns, each carved into the likeness of a giant warrior, lined the room.

Elbryan tugged more fiercely with his other hand instead, increasing the pace of the roll.

Wisdom overruled his rage, though, and he stayed hidden and let them pass.

Holding hands, the elves formed a wide circle about him.

Pony blinked curiously, for Olwan's arm did not come down, seemed to be going up, up, up.

Still she dug, widening the hole, trying desperately to squeeze under the slab.

Stubborn to the end, he stabbed again as hard as he could, then closed his eyes.

The guard, as instructed, placed the body at the base of the low wall and stepped back.

And so we live on, here and there, under blankets of cloud, under cover of darkness.

Anyone trained in the stones could do it.

The mighty elvish weapon scored hit after hit, sparks flying as it banged hard against metal armor.

He was amazed by its balance, by the smoothness of its long and comfortable draw.

A sheet of conjured lightning silenced the screams forever.

How many decades, even centuries, had passed since its last visit to Corona?

He caressed her neck, ran his hand down her side and along the outside of her strong leg.

Indeed he was tired from the previous day's labors, but so full of excitement that.

This was her secret place, her place of contemplation.

Juraviel responded with a nod of his own, but his admiration was sincere.

The boy could control it, could find that necessary place of detachment ...

If it did exist, then her memory was correct, then she had found yet another image of her lost life.

Though he was completely inexperienced in physical lovemaking, he understood what she was saying.

Scatter, goblins, fly and flee!

His questions were kept private though, for it was not his place to ask anything of the masters.

Pony paused and watched him, confused a at first.

He led Elbryan to the nearest plant and bent low, bidding the young man to inspect the fern's stem.

Now, the young man did utter an unintended sound, a gasp of disbelief and delight.

The three older men moved to the edge of the tower and talked among themselves.

It was his mother, dead as well - of smoke, Elbryan soon realized, for she had not a wound on her.

He had no idea how long he had slept.

Entel was the third largest city in Corona, behind Ursal, the throne seat, and Palmaris.

Thagraine spotted him then, a hopeful, pitiful, smile widening on his bloody face.

Cat nodded to him and managed a smile.

Pettibwa was forever laughing, dancing with her tray from one table to the next.

He dismissed that ridiculous notion and turned his spirit about, looking at the roof of the abbey.

It shadowed Elbryan's every move, studying the young leader intently.

It wasn't hard for Tuntun to guess who had worked it.

These were men of God, the men closest to God, and such petty actions on their part diminished the very meaning of the Abellican Church.

The air came alive with a strange humming sound.

Quintall realized that shooting the desperate man in front of the crew would likely cause a mutiny.

A thin crack ran down the center of the obsidian sarcophagus.

Something daring, even desperate, like the shadow dive Tallareyish had used to defeat him.

What song is this, drift through the trees To lift men broken from their knees?

The weather had turned toward winter.

Over and over they rolled, tumbling down the slope, punching and thrashing.

The place was not bright, having only a handful of tiny windows set high up on the tall walls.

But dark images began to wash over Avelyn, scenes of men running amok with stone power.

If that was true, then he probably was not dead.

Now, the young man did utter an unintended sound, a gasp of disbelief and delight.

Avelyn took a bold step, cutting between Quintall and Thagraine.

The moment, this most precious moment in all of Elbryan's young life ...

Avelyn then let go and dropped into a leg sweep that left Thagraine lying flat on the deck.

Would his victory prove tainted?

The elves gradually closed in.

With great effort, Elbryan tore his gaze from the dreadful spectacle below and glanced all around.

But there was no escape, no way to get beyond Dundalis without being seen.

Always it was a hot meal they set, and Elbryan soon understood why.

Still she dug, widening the hole, trying desperately to squeeze under the slab.

To untwist hearts from grasping sorrow, To offer the promise of the morrow?

Quintall's roar, truly the roar of a tiger, sent the crew scrambling.

Bestesbulzibar looked from Quintall to one of the lava rivers.

Elbryan wanted to jump out at them, to slash them all.

I had not even considered this until my northern trek led me back to these lands familiar.

Elbryan moved up to the comer of the next house, smiling for his cleverness, and peered around.

But now something else tugged at him and put him on edge.

In many places, the caribou moss was even deeper than his knees!

He moved to blow out the candle, then changed his mind and settled back on the cot.

If the man made but a single mistake, the mob of villagers would overwhelm him.

He turned about, regarding the giant, which was dancing and slapping at the air.

All advantage was lost as the young man stumbled, the loose earth slipping out from under his foot.

The boy believed the sun to be in the west, halfway from noon to sunset.

Not so far down, they moved beneath the misty canopy, and the forested valley came clear to Elbryan.

There were no lines of defense anymore, no organized pockets of resistance.

He found strength in duty, and that duty lay in burying the dead.

She would die, not of any fault of her own, but because the Coastpoint Guards had grown weak.

He didn't know what to do, then cursed himself silently for what he had already done!

Then Paulson started out, slowly, pacing evenly and calmly toward the goblin pair.

There was something else, though, some gift that Avelyn had left behind.

Elbryan sat up and rubbed his face, noting the cut and dried blood on one of his hands.

Thagraine was most ill at ease, pacing, stalking, and muttering to himself.

The elf looked up at him calmly, smiling, perfectly relaxed.

Her face screwed up with concern.

The one advantage on the ranger's side was his knowledge of the region surrounding Weedy Meadow.

He led Elbryan to the nearest plant and bent low, bidding the young man to inspect the fern's stem.

Her friends and family could not win!

The wicked goblins certainly, so full of anger and greed, so delighting in murder and war.

What might he do after the task was completed?

Avelyn didn't look over his shoulder to watch the ranger disappear into the night.

Where trees and thick brush had grown was now only battered pulp and blasted stone.

Down came Tuntun, her wing-fluttering hop exhausted, her sword pointed below her, leading.

She cupped Elbryan's chin in one hand and gently turned him back to face her.

Then they heard a distant piping, soft music, perfect melody.

He tried to deny it, tried to fight back.

The goblin, the closest form, was dead, its head bashed.

He came upon them at last at a bend in the river, where the goblins - many goblins!

The creature's ears, pointed at the top and with a loose flapping, fat lobe at the bottom, stuck out several inches from its head.

That done, the young man felt about, found his chair, and slipped into it.

He said nothing, though, fearful of making a fool of himself.

They were far below ground in one of the abbey's interior chambers, so there could be no window.

Avelyn pulled out his hematite, then remembered the anti-magic shield that Quintall had constructed.

Three men lay about on piled skins, black bear mostly, drinking foamy beer from old mugs.

Master Jojonah settled back on his heels but met the penetrating stare firmly.

Master Jojonah had called the stone showers "offerings," and to Avelyn, that description seemed exactly wrong.

Avelyn found he could hardly breathe.

Her glare at Juraviel was almost threatening as laughter erupted about her.

Elbryan had the distinct feeling the mist and the treetops were somehow connected.

Elbryan turned and dropped into a defensive crouch, but no enemies presented themselves.

Not in a lewd way, like the drunk in the bar, or even in a teasing way, like the handsome young man.

They were about the same height, but Tol, with his barrel-like torso and ample belly, was heavier.

Into the spike, the beast sent its vision, the telltale tracings of human-woven magic.

Avelyn swallowed hard, trying to discern his best response.

The demon spirit fell deep within itself, summoned its powers, both physical and magical.

Then likely he was now a charred thing, drifting to the bottom of the harbor.

How many thousands of goblins and giants had fallen to Mother's deadly blade!

He had thought Dundalis doomed ...

How much younger and more vibrant Annalisa had seemed!

Elbryan's father had assured him that Wyndon boys were normally late in sprouting.

The elves didn't see things that way; Juraviel had once asserted to Elbryan that everything in the.

He was at ease again, the uncomfortable feelings tossed out with the mystery of the night.

He was at ease again, the uncomfortable feelings tossed out with the mystery of the night.

Something else watched the young man from a perch in one of the thicker pines on the ridge.

Pony didn't miss her companion's derisive snort.

He glanced all around, tried to focus on individual creatures that he might discern their leader.

One hand banged against the powrie's solid waists against a metal ball above the dwarf's belt.

From the sounds emanating from within, it was quite obvious what was going on in there.

Elbryan, dazed, his breath blasted away, nearly fainted.

Always working or praying; there were no other recollections of Avelyn to be found.

Whoever or whatever was coming certainly wasn't kicking up a storm - it could not be giants.

Fortunately, the water was crystal clear.

Even if he beat these two, others were coming fast, including the one with the glowing spike!

Up in front, one of the women signaled that the caravan was nearly upon them.

You are not a prisoner, yet you are not free.

There is a tavern now, larger than the old common house and built on the foundation of my old home.

Lady Dasslerond and Juraviel, all the elves and the refugees, and Bestesbulzibar.

She cursed herself for not having had the wisdom to collect a weapon before leaving Dundalis.

Not that Graevis wouldn't protect her.

He had to get his own shirt off and use it to somehow wrap the wound.

A thin crack ran down the center of the obsidian sarcophagus.

He noted a movement up above, a dark shape coming atop the jutting rock.

The fomorian charged ahead with a tremendous, hideous howl, its cudgel going high.

She stopped, taken fully by surprise.

Their attacks will only increase in number and in purpose." Quintall shrugged away the grim words.

But for all the harsh reality, for all the possibilities that he would not survive, Avelyn watched the watery horizon for hint of those square sails most intently of all.

His arm hung practically useless, with no sign that it would ever improve.

He forced himself to remember Dundalis, to replay the horror, that he might find a fighting edge.

Elbryan held his breath, thinking that Pony's mother, often stern, would scold the girl severely.

She remembered running up a forested slope, looking back to her village, nestled in a sheltered vale, and then turning her gaze above it, to the southern sky, to the faint colors of the Halo.

The boy believed the sun to be in the west, halfway from noon to sunset.

He was a handsome man of thirty years, nearly twice Cat's age, with sharp brown eyes.

Pony spun and jumped on it, flailing wildly with both fists, kicking and kneeing viciously.

They watched, chattering wildly, trying to count and to guess who was leading but getting confused as parts of the line wove in and out of the tree shadows.

Elbryan rocked back on his heels, fumbling with his thoughts.

The other was also on the ground, squirming and groaning.

Its limbs were slender and long and its armor a silver shining coat of fine interlocking links.

"All right then," she said at length.

It pleased her greatly to help out Elbryan, to guard his emotions.

Elbryan forced himself to remain steady, to think clearly.

Avelyn sorted them out in his mind.

And if the humanoids didn't sack the town, that indicated they meant to continue on.

He went forward with all speed, scrambling over the low ridge.

Too many images assailed poor Elbryan.

The barrelboat closed - fifty yards, forty, twenty - cutting the water smoothly.

It took grim Cat a long while to learn the truth of Pettibwa.

She remembered wandering into a village, dirty and wounded, covered in soot and blood.

Put in that manner, this was indeed a day of celebration.

Avelyn could see the craft clearly now; no longer did he confuse the strange barrelboat with any wave shadows.

Finally came the welcome sound of oars and the boat, all three safely aboard.

He took his hand, and the graphite, out of his pocket, pointing it in Quintall's direction.

Jojonah would not have believed it possible.

She felt the heat against her hands as this house, too, started to burn.

Three men lay about on piled skins, black bear mostly, drinking foamy beer from old mugs.

Either way, her situation was about to become desperate.

Elbryan and Pony exchanged curious looks.

The way to our destination was cleared, the threat to the Windrunner ended.

Pony clenched the graphite tightly, nodded once, and walked away.

All flowed slowly, beautifully.

He selected an egg-sized hematite next, and then a ruby, small but flawless to his trained eye.

Pony sighed, too, and shook her head as if to show her ultimate frustration with adults.

The Forest Ghost was a common legend in the Timberlands.

Even his head was bare, for his superiors had shaved it.

Siherton's features befit his rank of class overseer, the disciplinarian of the newest brothers.

Jill wished that she had a cloak, at least, to gather closely about her.

Finally, Father Abbot Markwart halted the conversation with an upraised hand.

Pony shrugged, not willing to discount the possibility of giants, not after viewing a dead goblin.

She couldn't look at the man but kept her eyes locked on the stars, as if seeking refuge high above.

He was beyond grief, beyond logic, with no tears to cry.

Avelyn's brown robes were tattered and dripping; he had the stench of burned hair about him.

Avelyn swallowed hard, trying to discern his best response.

They came together hard, Elbryan going flat out on his back.

He shot back up straight, then fell over backward, but Cat was not done with him.

They had fallen as if they had formed a defensive ring, yet there were no human bodies near them.

But they hardly seemed to stop the behemoth.

And then she could look no more, fearing that she would find Thomas Ault, her father dear, among the dead.

He gave a slight nod to Jojonah and started away.

Belli'mar Juraviel suppressed a chuckle, for he liked seeing Tuntun flustered.

They were talking about a private auction of the sacred stones!

Elbryan drew out his short sword, glancing warily into the shadows.

The young man simply had no answers now.

Malachite, amber, serpentine, ruby, in that order.

They'll not let a ship sail from them, nor do they have room for prisoners!

Quintall spent the better part of an hour in a sometimes heated discussion with Captain Adjonas.

The goblin was behind her; she could imagine it readying its spear, lining up her vulnerable back.

Bestesbulzibar extended its hand palm down and telepathically demanded that Quintall pay homage.

The leg had splintered in the fall; Cat could see the jagged edge of a bone poking through the skin.

Jojonah nearly laughed aloud at the spectacle, and held forth the hematite.

Even if he went and retrieved it, the liquid within the stone had been tainted and was no good.

He could get to Thagraine and shelter the man back to the cave.

Next spring, Elbryan would hunt with the adults, the games of his youth left behind.

CHAPTER 4 The Death of Dundalis Elbryan and Pony were stunned and terrified for many seconds.

The Lady didn't blink, but suddenly Elbryan knew that he spoke mistakenly.

A six-foot bear could indeed appear twice that height when angered.

It was obvious that Avelyn had loved his mother dearly, and yet, there was a sincerity in his.

Juraviel stopped in his tracks and stared at the young man.

Rumors hinted that students of St.-Mere-Abelle had been dismissed for less.

Rumors hinted that students of St.-Mere-Abelle had been dismissed for less.

His direction chosen, he started off, determined to find the singer.

A grinding sound, the great gates sliding open, brought the young man from his contemplations.

And the goblin ranks, for all the carnage, remained deep, and seemed undiminished.

The conditioning ranged from sleep deprivation to long periods of hunger.

After a few moments, Elbryan's nerves began to wear thin.

Jojonah pointed to a case near to the middle of the room, and motioned for Avelyn to approach it.

Somebody was climbing up the gutter.

After a dozen more skipping steps, the creature paused and turned.

Over the rail the pitch ball went, taking the three powries with it.

Malachite, amber, serpentine, ruby, in that order.

Elbryan saw an opening and let fly a combination left jab, step, and right cross.

Then back left, then left again, knocking wide the creature's club arm.

Tallareyish turned in pursuit and came forward, one step, left foot.

Tuntun, almost expecting the attack from this man who so hated her, was not caught by surprise.

Hooves of music rend the gloom Bearing Nightbird, know your doom!

As he listened, Avelyn felt the mystery melting around him.

The monk was soon again back on the road, riding steadily and making a general course to the north.

Panic hit him, wrestling hard with a jumble of other emotions that Elbryan did not understand.

He put miles and miles behind him, between him and that terrible place called St.-Mere-Abelle.

What was it about Avelyn that really bothered Siherton?

The mighty centaur laughed heartily.

The real challenge lay in the south, in the most prosperous and populous kingdom, in Honce-the-Bear.

Elbryan tugged more fiercely with his other hand instead, increasing the pace of the roll.

She saw the ember fall from a log, orange glowing like the eye of some hideous night creature.

Putting his personal safety aside, Avelyn had to consider the greater good.

He screwed up his face, the ridiculous nickname sounding foolish in his ears.

"To Shane McMichael!" the two mug holders bellowed together.

Shocked back to his senses, Avelyn turned his attention to the high roof directly below him.

The girl pushed hard, but the beam would not give.

Avelyn's brown robes were tattered and dripping; he had the stench of burned hair about him.

He pushed aside a timber gingerly, when he heard the remaining roof groan in protest and went down to his knees, peering in.

Elbryan took the torch with him as he pushed aside the vines and entered the inner chamber.

Belster presented him with a piece of paper, a bill.

But finally she was breathing somewhat steadily again.

So he suffered the brutal hours of the day, the fighting in which Quintall almost always bested him.

A combination of strength and agility, a balanced, thinking warrior.

Elbryan found that he could not possibly maintain such a stance.

Gofflaw growled at her, but under Jill's unyielding glare, he replaced his sword in its sheath.

Jojonah pointed to a case near to the middle of the room, and motioned for Avelyn to approach it.

He waited, and waited some more, until Tuntun relaxed, and then he sprang like a hunting cat.

He paused and very carefully turned a circuit, listening intently, trying to focus on the sound.

Without a word of congratulations, Bradwarden lifted his monstrous bow and drew back.

The elves, of course; had little trouble keeping ahead of him, silent and out of sight.

The danger has passed." Elbryan winced at the reference to the tragedy of Dundalis.

One of his senses subtly called out a warning to him.

It was fairly circular, perhaps eight feet in diameter.

The monk quickly took out his yellow sunstone, falling immediately into its defensive magic.

There came a cry and a second shape darted out from behind the boulder, scrambling away.

The rockman scrutinized the terrain ahead and considered the distance.

The boy looked away, angry at himself for allowing such feelings.

Did the dactyl bring the weakness, the immorality, to humanity?

It told him these creatures were not of the evil goblin race; these were friends to be trusted.

The elf offered a hand, but Elbryan stubbornly refused, struggling shakily to his feet.

Those folk who had survived the bombardment soon envied their dead companions.

Again the young monk could only shrug helplessly, wanting to know but afraid to know.

She would dress in the finest gowns and attend the highest social events in Palmaris, even in Ursal!

At the last moment, the arrow turned in mid-flight, thudding hard into a tree.

Nor were there any living goblins or giants, Pony, realized, with small relief.

There were several various stones within, all smooth and polished.

Puncture wounds, as from arrows, only much smaller.

He noted the elf's spring, heard the wings fluttering.

Indeed he was tired from the previous day's labors, but so full of excitement that.

Not that many humans had ever tasted the elixir, for the elves did not deal openly in the juice.

Sometime later, as dusk descended, Pony's senses warned her that she was not alone.

Their reaction confirmed to Jill that she had made the right choice.

The elf went into a headlong roll, right between the young man's widespread legs, came up to his feet behind the yelling and turning Elbryan, and reversed his momentum, stabbing both his poles back.

Strike, parry, strike - the same routine.

This time, though, there was something more to the claim, something personal.

With his posture and his cloak the creatures couldn't be sure of his race.

The crew were blaming the monks for their discomfort, for this whole journey.

Avelyn let Jill lead him through the village, down the one main road, heading north.

And of the square sail that was drifting her way through the gray mist.

No answer, no hint, just the murmur, an endless string of mysterious whispers.

For the boy who had just witnessed such carnage and loss, the semiconscious state was preferable.

There were minor points untouched, to be sure.

The kiss shifted, from curiosity to urgency, then back to gentleness.

The elves, of course; had little trouble keeping ahead of him, silent and out of sight.

Dazed, bleeding, Elbryan pulled himself up to his elbows, looking over the edge of the cairn.

Elbryan hardly knew what a "bloody cap" was, and so the meaning of his own curse was lost on him.

Quiet and sweet were the notes, but that did little to comfort Elbryan.

He had to prepare the men and women of Honce-the-Bear, and all of Corona.

Precious," the merchant declared.

Subconscious instinct alone guided her.

They had fallen as if they had formed a defensive ring, yet there were no human bodies near them.

Another arrow came by and slashed across Elbryan's forearm as he struggled.

He felt the sting of the light spears, six of them, in his back, his side, deep in one thigh.

He moved to the nearest tree, stalked about it, then darted to the next.

They showed no mercy; Pony saw one woman beg for her life, offer herself to the goblins circling about her.

The fomorian charged ahead with a tremendous, hideous howl, its cudgel going high.

She knew, too, that she had come to trust this man.

He straightened his shoulders and looked squarely at the imposing Master Siherton.

The dwarf caught the gem securely, but surrendered his hold on the ladder.

For the boy who had just witnessed such carnage and loss, the semiconscious state was preferable.

The look the stocky man gave him in reply did little to allay the monk's mounting suspicions.

The look the stocky man gave him in reply did little to allay the monk's mounting suspicions.

There would be a measure in this of his manhood, Avelyn realized, a test he could not fail.

By the beginning of the third year, the level of jealousy among the four began to rise noticeably.

That done, he hoisted the last basket and started back the half mile to the trough.

A moment later, a light rain began to fall.

Quintall was already at the rail, pointing far out and down.

Then the great stallion leaped away, thundering back into the shadows, into the brush.

Then she gave a quick glance to the east, which was still quiet.

But when he came up from the roll, the zombie was there, suddenly, magically.

The large man's knowledge of goblins simply didn't reconcile with this sight before him.

To his credit, Elbryan had pretty much learned to ignore them.

This time, though, she was awake.

The spirit had come back to Corona encased in obsidian!

Avelyn was ready for the charge, his hands moving in swift defense.

There came a bright flash and then the monk lay still, low flames licking his lifeless body.

But that fear couldn't hold against the river of his own soul, pouring forth in great release.

He put his sword in his belt, found a spade; and began to dig.

She considered Avelyn's story then, his abandonment of the order.

His arrow hit the mark right down the middle, and the dark form fell away.

On those first two occasions, the hopeful lad had fallen victim to ever more cunning elvish traps.

How could anyone, or anything, that could pipe so beautifully pose a danger?

Elbryan sighed deeply and turned to Pony.

Had their encounter really been special to Dansally?

All the world seemed still, not a bird calling, not a whisper of wind.

He was at ease again, the uncomfortable feelings tossed out with the mystery of the night.

Turning to the dark row of stately pines, the ranger instinctively understood the source.

They started off again, side by side, their bulky forms filling the narrow passageway.

And to a deer, perhaps the most skittish creature of all ...

The three older men moved to the edge of the tower and talked among themselves.

He wanted to proclaim his independence loudly and openly, but before he got the first stuttered word out of his mouth, Juraviel hopped into a short flight once more.

He moved faster still when he heard the voices of the hunters.

Connor lifted his head up from her, and he seemed to her truly hurt and saddened.

They twisted and gouged, floating about and through the bare windblown rocks of the Barbacan.

Thus, Avelyn simply sat staring outward, too overwhelmed even to eat, and waited for the Windrunner.

When he thought about his hesitation, it only strengthened his resolve.

This time, the screams were real.

Dansally's shrug was telling to the perceptive monk.

She felt a rush of wind and heard a crash behind her, a giant club smashing against armor.

The goblin staggered weirdly, dropped its weapon, and fell to its knees.

A cry of agony within the house froze her in place, and she leaned heavily on the frame for support.

The giant released its grip and Elbryan fell to the ground.

The stone's magic could be twisted, though - could be inverted.

Shocked back to his senses, Avelyn turned his attention to the high roof directly below him.

From Juraviel's perspective, the first meeting had gone quite well.

She left the stubborn group with one final reminder.

But it was Avelyn's turn to crank, and the taskmasters were particular about such things.

"Exactly my point," Juraviel said dryly, and started on his way.

Connor left her at the door of the private quarters behind Fellowship Way.

A tear rolled down Avelyn's cheek, then another.

Pireth Tulme was but one in a series of keeps dotting Honce-the-Bear's coastline.

His shoulders slumped, the young man needing the stone wall for support.

She couldn't look at the man but kept her eyes locked on the stars, as if seeking refuge high above.

Avelyn winced, seeing men leaping from the deck, their doom at hand.

What better fate and final resting place for an Abellican monk?

The three trappers were at a loss; Brother Avelyn could think of no sanctuary closer than St.

And Maiyer Dek, among the largest of his giant kind, was not accustomed to being dwarfed.

He braced himself, used the solid tree as support.

He wanted Juraviel along on this journey, needed the elf's wisdom and courage to bolster his own.

But she suffered that pain, and let Connor kiss her, every once in a while.

Elbryan stepped left as well and spun, avoiding an awkward cut of its sword.

They arrived in dirty Tinson late that afternoon.

But the demon spirit had awakened, had come back from its long dormancy into the statuelike form it had left behind after its last visit to the world called Corona.

So shall you all To blackness evermore.

Avelyn's faith was put to the test as the magma flow approached, as the heat intensified.

Father Abbot Markwart burst out into the most heartfelt laughter Avelyn had ever heard.

Avelyn looked back to see her stretched languidly on the bed, blue eyes sparkling.

Its limbs were slender and long and its armor a silver shining coat of fine interlocking links.

Its head, too, was somewhat human, except more angular, with a narrow jaw and pointed chin.

What song is this, drift through the trees To lift men broken from their knees?

The monk had shed his telltale brown robe in favor of the more normal dress of a villager.

She only sighed, though, and resignedly closed the cabin door.

He struggled harder, but the goblin would not let him drive his sword home.

He awoke later, much later, though he was unaware of the passage of time.

The stampede came to a skidding halt, the wild horses accepting riders, villagers.

But Avelyn caught his fears in time and started the journey once more.

Elbryan felt his nose crack, felt the warmth of his blood running.

If that failed, the next task was to save as many individuals as possible.

The starkness of the scene from this vantage point, in this mounting light, amazed the companions.

The previous night, at the party, Pellimar had been loose with his tongue.

The powrie came across with a backhand slash, but Avelyn managed to duck beneath it.

The sight of it, round and firm and creamy white, seemed to calm him for a moment.

The reaction of Pettibwa and Graevis to the news of the marriage was not hard to predict.

Again with his prompting, Pony turned and melted back into his strong embrace.

He stood with an air of superiority, posture perfect, hand on gilded rapier.

She felt a rush of wind and heard a crash behind her, a giant club smashing against armor.

Avelyn was the youngest of ten, and his parents had been well into their forties when he was born.

His thoughts careened suddenly back to Pony and the kiss at the twin pines atop the ridge.

Elbryan thought that a curious thing; why hadn't the wretched humanoids pursued the fleeing humans?

The sensation of war, of human agony.

What were his responsibilities?

Elbryan fell back behind the twin pines, catching the shout in his throat, gasping for breath.

Jill worked to get behind the boat, to use it as a barrier against the powrie archers on the deck.

That thought bolstered the young man.

Again it was the smell of his burning village that cleared his head.

Elbryan didn't know what to make of this armored foe, and especially of its glowing spike.

Juraviel was waiting for the young man when he crawled out of the hole.

Without a word, the tall master stalked from the room.

The girl cocked her head, suddenly realizing exactly where she was.

Master Jojonah settled back on his heels but met the penetrating stare firmly.

How much better their lives would be to know that she was well wed!

A soft melody vibrated in his ear, somewhere just below his consciousness.

That, combined with the presence of this magic-wielding assassin, surely concerned the monk.

At the end of the day, Juraviel revealed a new tool for him, the very cap he wore upon his head.

He did see Bradwarden, slamming repeatedly, stubbornly, at the doors, not budging them in the least.

Elbryan sat up and rubbed his face, noting the cut and dried blood on one of his hands.

Now, putting it so obviously in sexual terms only confused poor Avelyn even more.

Avelyn went to her and hugged her.

As he spoke, the elf fingered a green stone, serpentine, feeling its subtle vibrations.

She knew, as did all the gathering, that there was no possible way she could have stumbled into such a coarse trap had not a bit of magic been worked.

They would have to get aboard the barrelboat, whatever the outcome of Quintall's attempt.

Avelyn took a deep breath, consciously keeping his eyes from the eager gazes of the onlookers.

Down came Tuntun, her wing-fluttering hop exhausted, her sword pointed below her, leading.

Elbryan recalled the image of the vast encampment.

As he spoke, the elf fingered a green stone, serpentine, feeling its subtle vibrations.

Elbryan liked the image; every day that passed, he found that he enjoyed looking at Pony more and more.

And he replaced much of his dreaming with time travel, moved his mind back.

But I have found peace, Uncle Mather.

They sat in silence as the day grew about them.

The giant's hand covered the tall man's entire forearm.

He hated risking them all but realized the success of the mission hinged on their actions right now.

By sheer will and brute strength, the dactyl flexed its wings.

There was little joy that night at the Way; where Jill said her good-byes.

Elbryan saw the bright red gash, the white of split bone, the grayish brain.

And so we live on, here and there, under blankets of cloud, under cover of darkness.

Using it to walk out of body barely touches at the edge of its true magic.

But that fear couldn't hold against the river of his own soul, pouring forth in great release.

He looked to the north again, peering hard just above the horizon.

After a dozen more skipping steps, the creature paused and turned.

How many others could look upon the Halo and understand the beauty of the thing?

He was at ease again, the uncomfortable feelings tossed out with the mystery of the night.

The situation came to a frightening head one especially hot humid morning.

"You heard Body Grabber," Elbryan countered.

And Connor would not relent, prodding and pushing.

She rushed right for it, feigning a dodge to the side as it lifted its huge sword.

Elbryan and Pony exchanged curious looks.

Suddenly he felt a part of that vast velvet canopy.

Avelyn had known, that she would never see her son in this world again.

Elbryan didn't answer, but that familiar sparkle fit up his eyes.

The grueling schedule, though, allowed Avelyn the opportunity to put off his more personal problems.

This was an action of a rogue goblin chieftain, perhaps, or one of the many powrie raiding parties, acting on their own initiative, bringing misery to the wretched humans.

The day was cool and gray, the sky spitting light snow every so often.

Again the young monk could only shrug helplessly, wanting to know but afraid to know.

No foam; the ranger breathed a sigh of relief.

A cry of agony within the house froze her in place, and she leaned heavily on the frame for support.

The pair rolled hard into the trunk of another tree, and the goblin abruptly stopped its thrashing.

Then he was floating, Siherton continuing to plummet.

That night, Avelyn retired to his room, thoroughly exhausted, both emotionally and physically.

Only the call to vespers, the ceremony heralding eventide, had interrupted Avelyn's frantic pace.

Why did the world need rangers, anyway?

Avelyn was not the worst of his class, but he was certainly not near the best: Quintall.

Avelyn and Pellimar swam with all speed.

She rolled to the lip of the ledge, pulled her mask further down, and vomited.

With a single sweeping left hook, Avelyn laid the big man low.

This was worse than a cold trail, Brother Justice realized, for this was no trail at all.

So that left Avelyn against the fiend, just them, facing off from five paces.

The other two scrambled in sudden retreat, slipping as they tried to get back up the slope.

Avelyn ran from the chapel, skittering down the empty halls, his footsteps echoing noisily.

The bear skidded to a stop and turned to follow.

Elbryan had sparred with him only once, very early in.

Then he methodically went about skinning and cleaning it.

Cat suffered his insults, but couldn't dismiss the realization that Pettibwa would have handled it differently, better.

He found Quintall standing with Adjonas, the captain, looking weary, leaning against the mainmast.

Its head, too, was somewhat human, except more angular, with a narrow jaw and pointed chin.

Its feel was impossibly smooth, almost liquid.

Cat-the-Stray clamped her teeth over one of his knuckles and bit him hard.

The black-winged demon looked down at a darker red tear marring its otherwise smooth hide.

Smealy turned a wicked grin on the captain.

Then he looked back at the larger battle for Dundalis.

It floated through-the chill air, barely perceptible.

The monk quickly took out his yellow sunstone, falling immediately into its defensive magic.

Elbryan wondered, having no explanation of who or what those delicate winged creatures might be.

Piled in the emotional jumble were Elbryan's mixed feelings concerning the elves.

Above it all stood Olwan, proud and strong and unshakable.

The three got from house to house, then across the short clearing to the woods.

On the main road of Dundalis, just on the other side of this house, a fierce battle raged.

Pony had to wonder as she skittered down the rocky slope, a pair of giants in fast pursuit.

The young man knew all that, as he sat in the dirt, staring curiously at the somehow dead giant.

He stood alone on the balcony above the main entrance of St.-Mere-Abelle, the most prominent monastery in all the kingdom of Honce-the-Bear, in the northern temperate zone of Corona.

Many merchants in Ursal likely possessed stones; the monastery was not averse to selling them.

The new class of twenty-five stood one behind the other.

He closed his eyes and began chanting softly, falling into the magic of the powerful hematite.