Transcendence

Belli'mar Juraviel was surprised indeed when he opened his eyes to look upon a strange, almost preternatural scene. A thick fog blan-keted the ground, with dark patches of moss and muddy mounds showing sporadically. He was in a copse of trees, but they were all dead, black-armed, empty things, their crooked limbs snaking out like the last desperate limb-waving pleas of a doomed man. At first the elf saw no signs of life, but then he heard a groan, and managed with great effort to roll over.

Brynn stood there, or at least, hung there, her arms up high above her head, tied at the wrists to a thick, dead branch. Her head lolled about her shoulders and she kept trying to stand up straight - to take the painful pressure off of her arms, Belli'mar reasoned. Her legs would not support her, though, and she kept sagging, often uttering a groan as her arms straightened.

"Brynn," Juraviel whispered. ?Waken, ranger."

She didn't answer, so Juraviel repeated his words, more loudly and insistently.

Still no answer.

Not from Brynn. However, at the second call, forms rose up out of the fog. Hulking, stiff-limbed forms, rising silently and moving deliberately toward the pair.

Shaken by the gruesome image, Juraviel tried to stand, only to find that he was strapped down tightly to his makeshift cot, another dead limb, by a series of looped cords.

"Brynn!" he cried out. ?Wake up, girl!"

The zombies moved methodically about the woman. One grabbed her about the ribs, and with seemingly no effort at all, lifted her into the air. A second zombie grabbed the woman's arms and hoisted them back up straight, lifting the loop of the rope over the peg that was holding it.

Brynn started, suddenly awake, and her initial thrash broke her free of the zombies. But again, her legs would not support her, and she tumbled down into the mist, and as she tried to scramble away, the zombies fell over her, grabbing her, punching her.

Belli'mar Juraviel cried out to her repeatedly and thrashed about, to no avail. A few moments later, one of the zombies lifted the limp form of the young ranger into its arms, cradling her under the knees and shoulders, and started away on its stiff legs.

Juraviel continued to thrash, thinking that the undead creatures would come for him next. But to his surprise, they all continued away, a solemn and gruesome procession.

Juraviel fought hard to suppress his revulsion and collect his wits. What was going on here? As he settled, he realized that there had to be a higher intelligence about other than the zombies; they seemed unthinking creatures. But why, then, had both Juraviel and Brynn been tied up? Why hadn't the creatures simply battered them both into the realm of death?

It made no sense to Juraviel, but how could it, after all? He had never seen an animated corpse before, had never even heard of such a thing!

The zombies and their captive disappeared into the fog, and Juraviel heard Brynn utter a plaintive cry, helpless and hopeless.

The elf sagged back, staring up into the dark sky. He noted only then, and curiously, that his perch had been made somewhat comfortable. A thick blanket was under him, between him and the gnarly branch. He craned his neck, trying to find some clues, but he could only see the edge of a wayward flap, nothing that offered him any information. Why had he been treated with some consideration, while Brynn had been mercilessly hung up by her wrists? And why was he still lying there, while his friend had been dragged away to some unknown horror?

Juraviel figured that he was about to get some answers - and likely none that he wanted to hear! - when a hulking form came up beside him, down by his legs, stiff arms reaching out to him!

Panic welled in Juraviel, but was soon overwhelmed by anger - anger at himself, mostly, for the elf knew then that he had done wrong in standing beside Brynn. He should have run off to report this atrocity to Lady Dasslerond; all of his people might be threatened now because of his mis-erable failure.

"Hefle!" came a shout, a word that sounded vaguely familiar to Juraviel. When the zombie halted and lowered its arms, the elf understood the word more clearly, for it sounded like an offshoot of the elven word ?hefele,"

which meant, ?desist."

Juraviel craned his neck again, straining to get a look at the speaker, and when he did, his eyes went wide indeed! For there, standing beside him, were a pair of creatures, a male and female, of similar stature to his own. Their hair was dark, black like a raven's wing, and the eyes of the male seemed like an inky black pool, while the other's were the lightest shade of blue a stark and startling contrast to her black hair. They had no wings, as lid the Touel'alfar, but their features were similarly angular and pro-ounced. Juraviel's own skin had been tanned under the sun, but these two looked as if they had never seen the sunlight, their skin chalky white, almost luminescent in the gray fog.

The female starred hurling words Juraviel's way. Questions, he supposed, or threats, but the creature was speaking too fast for him to catch up to the meaning^ thelnterrt- But then he did catch a word, ?intruder," and another, ?thief," and he was surprised indeed when he paused long enough to recognize that the creature was speaking to him in his own tongue! Or in a tongue that resem-bled that of the Touel'alfar, both in specific wording and in the various in-flections that could be placed on any word.

The female continued to ramble, with Juraviel's ears keeping pace with the flow of the words now, and the elf truly understood that the danger was far from past, that these two, and their kinfolk, apparently, were not pleased that he and Brynn had stumbled onto their land. The creature spoke of ?the severest of penalties" for the human woman and mentioned that they might kill Juraviel instead of that worst of fates if he cooperated appropriately.

Finally, Juraviel had recovered his wits enough for him to look the ram-bling and outraged creature in the eye, and say, ?We meant no harm."

Both creatures fell back, their eyes going wide. The female stammered over a few syllables, while she trembled, with nerves, with rage, with... something.

"Who are you, who know my language?" Juraviel said, trying to use in-flections similar to those the creatures had used, though his tone was obvi-ously far less confrontational.

The pair looked at each other curiously, as if trying to sort through the question. They each repeated the last word, ?language," several times, shaking their heads and wearing confused expressions.

Juraviel rattled off several synonyms and tried to explain what he meant, and the thought came clear to the pair.

"Who are you who know our... language?" the one with the dark eyes asked.

"Who are you?"

"Who are you?" the two demanded in unison.

Belli'mar Juraviel lay back on his branch and closed his eyes, trying to sort out the web of confusion and surprise. Could it be? the elf wondered. Was it possible? He took a deep breath, and answered, knowing full well that he was taking a great chance here, ?Touel'alfar. I am Touel'alfar."

"Tylwyn Tou!" the female cried, her bright eyes going wide, and her tone made it sound like an accusation.

Belli'mar Juraviel looked at her directly. If this was what he now suspected, then he certainly understood that tone. In times long past, the Touel'alfar and these creatures, the Doc'alfar, had lived together as one race. But the primary difference in the elves, the fact that some were adorned with wings while others were not, had caused strife among the people. Add to that a devastating disease that had afflicted the elves with-out wings for some reason, but not their cousins, and the elven peoples of Corona had been split apart, Touel and Doc.

Juraviel didn't blink, but neither did he frown or show any intentions of intimidation. He was walking a fine line, he knew, balancing on a perch where a fall would cost him his life - and cost him any chance at all to save Brynn, if she was even still alive.

"Doc'alfar," Juraviel said quietly, and as the elf mouthed the word, he be-came even more certain that he should have abandoned Brynn in the initial fight.

"Tylwyn Doc," the male corrected, calmly, though his companion seemed as if she was about to leap forward and throttle Juraviel.

"Tylwyn Doc," Juraviel conceded.

"And you are Tylwyn Tou," said the elf with the bright eyes.

"We name ourselves Touel'alfar, but I accept Tylwyn Tou."

"You accept?" the female said with a snort. ?Have you a choice?"

Juraviel merely shrugged, or tried to, for his bindings were too tight for such movement.

"What is your name?" the male demanded.

"Belli'mar Juraviel," he answered without hesitation.

"Where have you come from?" the female snapped.

Juraviel tightened his lips. ?I am Belli'mar Juraviel," he said again, aim-ing the words at the male, who seemed the more reasonable of the two.

The male Tylwyn Doc stared at him hard for a short while, then said, ?I am Lozan Duk." he paused and looked to his companion, as did Juraviel.

The Tylwyn Doc with the remarkable light eyes didn't look at her com-panion, but continued to stare ominously at Juraviel. ?Cazzira," she said at length. ?Know that your doom is named Cazzira, Belli'mar Juraviel."

The elf's question came out simply, ?Why?"

Cazzira narrowed her bright eyes, her face tightening with anger.

"You have intruded where you do not belong," Lozan Duk explained. ?The Tylwyn Doc make no exceptions."

Juraviel pondered that for a bit. ?You routinely execute any who wander onto your land, though you have no warning markers to ward intruders away? ?

"Warning markers would tell the world where we are, would they not?" Cazzira asked with biting sarcasm.

"Perhaps we do not want the world to know."

Juraviel lay back again, considering the words, trying to figure out what going on, and what steps he might take, what words he might say to try calm the situation.

"You? Where is my companion?" he asked. ?Brynn Dharielle is her name. A trained by the Touel'alfar and returning to her home beyond the Stains. She poses no threat to the Tylwyn Doc." ?She is being prepared for the bog," Lozan Duk answered matter-of- aC"All humans are given to the bog," Cazzira eagerly added. ?We throw them in, and then?ur priests return them to us as slaves."

A shudder coursVd Juraviel's spine. He pictured Brynn as one of those ?slaves," an undead monstrosity under the complete control of these creatures.

"We have not taken much of the land as our own," Lozan Duk ex-plained. ?But that which is ours, we guard with all diligence."

Those words rang true to Belli'mar Juraviel, for his own people held be-liefs not so different. The Touel'alfar guarded Andur'Blough Inninness fanatically. They didn't often kill intruders, because their elven magic, along with Lady Dasslerond's emerald gemstone, could make those who wan-dered onto their lands forget the way.

But if there was any doubt - if the in-truder learned too much about the Touel'alfar, if a ranger, perhaps, failed in his training - then Juraviel knew that Dasslerond would not hesitate to kill the human.

Juraviel thought of Aydrian at that moment, for the young ranger had been walking a fine line for some time.

Another shudder coursed through him.

"You cannot do this," Juraviel said suddenly, hardly thinking before he blurted the words. He craned his head up again, staring at the two intently. He read Lozan Duk's expression as one of sympathy, though Cazzira's tightened features showed little understanding.

"There is a possibility here," Juraviel went on. ?How many centuries have passed since our peoples were torn asunder?"

"Since the Tylwyn Tou expelled the Tylwyn Doc from their lands, you mean," Cazzira remarked.

"Who can know the truth of that distant past?" Juraviel replied. ?Per-haps you are right - there was a plague, by all accounts. But whatever the truth, are we two peoples to be held prisoner by it?"

Cazzira started to respond, but Lozan Duk held his hand up before her. This is not our decision to make," he said. ?King Eltiraaz will have much to say concerning your fate, Belli'mar Juraviel."

"And what of Brynn?" She is for the bog," Cazzira was quick to answer.

Juraviel shook his head defiantly. ?Then that will be your error. And one the Touel'alfar will not soon forgive."

You threaten us?" asked the angry female.

"I speak honestly, and in the hope that this meeting need not be a tragedy. Brynn Dharielle - "

"Is a human, and we do not suffer humans who wander onto our lands to live!"

"Brynn Dharielle is a ranger," Juraviel calmly went on. ?She is not like others of her race. She has been trained for many years within the home of the Touel'alfar. She has been given an understanding of my - of our people that elevates her above her sorry kin. My people have placed much faith and responsibility in her. I tell you this now so that there will be no mistaking the implications if you proceed. I want you to hold no miscon-ceptions on this point. Brynn Dharielle is Touel'alfar in all but heritage, and we protect our own as fiercely as do the Doc'alfar."

Cazzira was tightening her angular features throughout his speech, and she winced visibly when Juraviel referred to her people using the title of his people and not hers.

"Are we to learn from each other, or are you to sever all possibilities of friendship and alliance before they are ever explored?"

Lozan Duk looked at his companion, holding the stare until Cazzira tore her glare away from Juraviel and returned the look. Then, with a glance at Juraviel, Lozan Duk motioned for Cazzira to follow him a short distance away, that they could speak in private.

Belli'mar Juraviel lay back and tried to sort through the amazing turn of events that night, trying to discern his responsibilities. Had he erred in so forcefully protecting Brynn? Perhaps his duty to his people demanded that he try to save himself, whatever the cost to Brynn, that he could flee back to the north and inform Lady Dasslerond that the Doc'alfar were very much real and alive.

No, Juraviel decided. He would not sacrifice Brynn. Not for himself, not for anyone. He intended to get out of this, and intended to have Brynn right beside him when he did.

Lying there, cocooned by an unyielding rope on a tree branch and with a powerful zombie hovering over him, Juraviel had to admit that intentions were a far cry from reality.

"Tell the priests to await the judgment of King Eltiraaz," Lozan Duk in-structed Cazzira when they had moved away from their prisoner.

"His judgment concerning humans was rendered centuries ago," Cazzira protested.

Lozan Duk looked to Juraviel, then back to Cazzira. ?He must speak with this one before rendering his judgment over the ranger."

Cazzira stared at him hard.

"You know that I am correct in this," Lozan Duk replied. ?King Eltiraaz would not be pleased if we proceeded after what this one has told us."

He looked back at their prisoner, her hard look softening, and finally a helpless chuckle. ?This is amazing,"

she admitted. ?A legend walks our midst. Who can tell what that will portend for the Tylwyn Doc?" 111 ?Or the Tylwyn Tou?" Lozan Duk added, nodding, and when he turned Cazzira, he saw that she was nodding, too. So many possibilities.

It hurt to move at all, but Brynn turned her head to the side and opened She was lying on\her stomach, on soft and smelly ground. It was a cave, she realized, as she turned her head more to regard the light hanging on the earthen wait Her gaze lingered there, for this was like no lantern the woman had ever seen. It had a short wooden handle and was capped by a slowing, blue-white globe, with no flames anywhere that Brynn could see.

She continued her scan as far as her aching neck and back would allow. Many, many small roots hung out of the walls and the ceiling, and it seemed to Brynn as if this whole place, however large it might be, had simply been torn out of the ground.

Brynn coughed, and her ribs felt as if they would break apart under the pressure!

Too weary and battered even to cry, the young ranger turned her face back toward the earth and slowly lowered her head back in place. She closed her eyes, wishing it was all just a nightmare, but knowing better.

Knowing that she had failed, that she would not be the savior of her en-slaved people.

Fitful dreams awaited her.

When the woman next opened her eyes, she was lying on her back, still bathed in the same bluish white light, and still in the small earthen cave.

"I thought that you would be more comfortable this way," came a sud-den voice, and Brynn started, then groaned from the pain. Her panic was gone by the time she winced through the agony, for she surely recognized the voice of Belli'mar Juraviel. Slowly and with great effort, the young ranger managed to turn enough to glimpse her mentor, who sat at the side of the room, not bound, apparently.

'They can animate the dead, but they have little in the way of healing magic," Juraviel mused, and it seemed to Brynn that he was talking more to himself than to her.

Hey?" she managed to say, and her lips were so dry and parched that they hurt to move.

JJoc'alfar," Juraviel explained, coming over to her and putting a small waterskin to her lips. He poured, and Brynn tried to gulp the fresh water, but Juraviel quickly pulled it back.

Not too fast," he warned, bringing it forward and giving her another sip. ?You have been asleep for a long time.

If you drink too quickly, you will shock your body, to no good end."

"How long?"

Juraviel looked around and shrugged. ?Three days at least, I would guess, though time is not easy to measure in here."

Three days, Brynn thought. But how had she and Juraviel escaped? And where was the pursuit, for how far might the diminutive elf have traveled with an unconscious woman to drag along?

Those questions swirled about in her thoughts for a short while, gradu-ally blending in with the more general gray that seemed to permeate her thoughts, guiding her back to the realm of slumber.

She knew before Juraviel even told her that another day had slipped past. Biynn turned to the side, to where Juraviel had been - and still was - . sitting.

"Ah, Brynn, you have returned to me." As he spoke, Juraviel lifted the waterskin and came back to her, putting it to her parched lips.

"Help me to sit up," the young ranger said after taking a few sips and then a few deep breaths - breaths that showed her that her ribs were far from healed.

Juraviel was beside her in a moment, easing her into a sitting position, then helping her to turn so that she could put her back against the wall.

"I remember getting hit," she said after a lengthy pause. ?I tried to fight back, but they were all about me. I tried..."

"You fought well, but the numbers were too great, and the creatures seemed nearly immune to our weapons."

"How did we get out?"

Juraviel's expression corrected her even before she had finished speaking the words. They had not gotten out of anything, and were obviously prisoners.

"What do they want of us? And what are they?"

"They - the ones who attacked us - were unthinking animations," the elf explained. ?Zombies raised as an army by the Doc'alfar."

"Doc'alfar," Brynn echoed, thinking that there was a familiar ring to the word, though she couldn't place it.

"We have been through this all before," Juraviel said to her. ?Though I would not expect you to remember it."

"Doc'alfar?" Brynn said yet again, for she understood the word to mean ?the dark people," as Touel'alfar meant ?the fair people," or simply, ?the People."

"In a time long past the longest memories of the eldest elves, there was but one race," Juraviel explained somberly, his eyes staring to the side, as if looking across the miles and the centuries. ?Touel'alfar, or Tylwyn Tou. Some had wings, some not, and most of those who had wings had hair of gold and light eyes, while most of those who did not had dark hair and dark eyes."

"These are your cousins, then," Brynn reasoned. She glanced all around. - And this is the home of...?"

"This is a prison, and nothing more.

"Rut they are of the People. You are kin and kind. Why would they treat "Did I mention the banishment?" Juraviel remarked, somewhat flippantly. ?They're going to kill us, aren't they?"

Turaviel looked at her directly. ?You, likely," he confirmed. ?They are not overly fond of humans, it seems."

Brynn considered the undead force that had come against them, human zombies all.

"Though theyTnay keep me alive, Juraviel went on, tor information or for bartef, if evef\they should venture to find Lady Dasslerond and Andur'Blough InninnesV' "Then we have to find a way to fight our way out of here."

Turaviel shrugged and motioned to the side, to a dark hole in the floor, seeming barely wide enough to crawl into. ?One tunnel, through which we'll have to crawl, blocked at the one exit by a boulder and a host of zom-bies, to say nothing of any Doc'alfar who might be about. And I trust that my kin have not lost their proficiency in battle."

Brynn's shoulders slumped and her gaze fell to the floor. ?I cannot die here," she said. ?Not now. My people are in need and I will not forsake them!" She finished with a snarl, but it was one, she knew, more of frustra-tion than determination. For what could she and Belli'mar Juraviel do? They were overmatched, plain and simple, and so much so that there were no apparent options.

She wanted to punch the wall, and turned, meaning to do just that. But a thought came to her suddenly and her face brightened, and her hand un-clenched and tore at the soft wall instead, pulling away a sizable chunk of root-filled earth. Brynn spun right about, ignoring the pain in her shoulder and ribs, determined to tear a tunnel out of the soft soil.

"Do not!" came Juraviel's emphatic cry, and the woman stopped and turned back to regard him.

"The cave is not solid enough," Juraviel explained. ?Our captors under-stood how to build a prison properly here, and if we weaken the integrity of the walls, it will all fall in on us."

Brynn closed her eyes, her ribs aching as she gasped in deep breaths, re-considering her exertion.

"We are very deep," Juraviel grimly added.

Brynn fell back over to a sitting position, her back against the cool, smelly mud. ?What are we to do? To sit and wait, and pray for the benefi-cence of our captors?"

"How I wish I had an answer."

And so they did just that, sitting and waiting, Juraviel's mind whirling as he tried to come up with some manner of negotiation that he might use, should he get the chance, to get both of them out of there. Brynn sat think-ing of her failure, of the loss to To-gai and the enslaved To-gai-ru. She would not be their savior, apparently.

Inevitably, the woman's thoughts turned to her own mortality. What did it mean to die? Would her murdered parents be there at the end of the dark tunnel, as the shamans of To-gai claimed, ready to welcome her to the Great Hunt? Or would there be nothing at all, just an empty blackness, a cessa-tion of existence?

Many times, the woman tried to bring her thoughts back to the situation at hand, tried to fathom some solution to the terrible dilemma. But she was dragged back over and over to the unavoidable contemplations of that greatest of mysteries.

Time slipped past; Brynn knew not if it was minutes or hours or days. She wasn't hungry, and figured that trying to eat would pain her greatly, anyway. She just sat there and waited, and every so often, she glanced across the way to Juraviel, who sat cross-legged, his elbows propped on his legs, his chin in his cupped hands.

Time slipped past.

The sound of movement in the tunnel shook Brynn from a trancelike slumber some long hours later. The young ranger instinctively started to move, and quickly, to a defensive position, but a sudden stabbing pain in her side forced her back to her sitting posture, gasping for breath.

Juraviel didn't move very much at all, just turned his head to regard the approaching sound. It wasn't from weakness or pain, though, Brynn under-stood, but from simple resignation. They were beaten, and Juraviel had fully accepted that. If their captors walked Juraviel to the edge of a cliff, clipped his wings, and told him to jump, Brynn believed that he just might do it, and without complaint!

A covered pot was the first thing that came through the dark hole at the base of the wall across from Brynn, ushered forward by a pair of peat-covered, stiff-fingered hands. The zombie continued to crawl its way into the room, moving more like a worm than a bipedal creature. It set the pot down, then began to recede into the hole, moving slowly backward down the tunnel.

The perfect delivery system, Brynn realized, for the zombie would not panic in the tight tunnel and could take its time in leaving, inch by inch.

"What is it?" Brynn asked after the gruesome zombie was finally gone from sight.

"Food and water," Juraviel explained. ?You go first and take as much as you require. It has been far too long since your last meal."

Brynn stared at the pot for a long moment, considering the pain it had created in her stomach. She didn't want food, but needed it, she knew. did she? What was the point, if she was just to be executed anyway?

She dismissed those dark thoughts before they could ever gain a hold, pressed forward and pushed the cover from the pot. In the dim light, she couldn��t  make out much within the shadows beneath the lip, but her nose bled her that it was merely bread - stale bread, she determined as she lifted  - and a small flask of water. It was her first meal in four days, and it '?too much for her to enjoy a single bite or sip of it. But Brynn forced  illv half of the bread and-water down, treating each bite as a small victory her resistance against her captors, her determination to win out and' Turaviel finishedVhe food and drink with the same resigned manner as he had welcomed the zombie waiter.

Brynn just stared at him, trying to impart some fighting spirit. It occurred to her, only briefly, that Juraviel was taking such a passive attitude so that his chances of getting out alive would be heightened, even if his apparent determination not to fight back doomed his companion.

No, Brynn told herself forcefully. Juraviel was resigned because he be-lieved that they had no chance of any substantive resistance.

She would have to show him differently!

The zombie returned after what Brynn estimated to be the turn of a full day. It put the new pot down and grabbed the old one, now serving as a commode, and started backing down the hole.

Brynn started to move, thinking to kill the undead creature while it was vulnerable in the tight passageway, but her expression betrayed her to her companion.

"Do not!" Juraviel commanded, and Brynn stopped and stared at him, then looked back to the zombie, which continued to back away mindlessly, oblivious to the threat.

"If you kill it, then it will lie stinking in the hole," the elf explained, his tone flat and even. ?Then we will have to tolerate the added smell of rot, and that I do not desire."

Brynn sank back against the wall and gave a great sigh. ?Are we to do nothing?"

We are to eat," replied Juraviel. ?And more slowly this day, for they do not always replace the pot they take away on their rounds."

The cycle continued day after day, and while Brynn's ribs began to hurt as  she was weakening, not getting stronger, she knew. Their captors were apparently not novices at this business, for they kept the food and drink to absolute minimum, gradually breaking down the strength and will of the prisoners. rynn knew not how many days had passed, and hardly took note when movement sounded in the tunnel. Even after the Doc'alfar emerged from the tunnel, it took the woman a few seconds to realize that this was not their usual zombie waiter!

" Belli'mar Juraviel," the Doc'alfar greeted.

"Hail, Lozan Duk," Juraviel replied, and Brynn's eyes went wide with surprise.

"King Eltiraaz awaits you."

Juraviel nodded and rolled up to his knees, and it took him a long while to steady himself. Brynn, too, started to move, but Juraviel fixed her with a stare and motioned for her to sit back, and Lozan Duk turned a threatening glare at her.

"You will have your chance to explain yourself to my king," the Doc'alfar said to Juraviel. ?This is your trial."

"And am I to have my say to your King Eltiraaz?" Brynn boldly asked.

Lozan Duk slowly turned to regard her. ?You have nothing to say, n'Tyl-wyn Doc."

N'Tylwyn Doc. The word played over and over in Brynn's mind, for she had heard a similar word many times during her tenure with the Touel'alfar, particularly in the beginning, when her training in the ways of the ranger, in the ways of the elves, was in its infancy. Many times, the Touel'alfar had called her n'Touel'alfar, a derisive term that meant, simply, that she was not of the People, of the important people, of the only ones who truly counted. There was some hope to be garnered here, in the fact that the Doc'alfar had not similarly referred to Juraviel. By pointedly using the phrase in regard to Brynn as the reason she would not be allowed to go along, he had, in effect, somewhat included Juraviel in his clan.

That hope was lost on Brynn as she slumped back against the wall, though, for the derisive title, n'Tylwyn Doc, sounded to her like the call of the executioner.

The two elves moved out of the room with far more ease and grace than had the zombie waiter. Brynn again considered moving, not to follow, but to attack their jailor, though she realized that she would likely have no chance against an elf in her weakened state. The only thing that held her back were the implications for Belli'mar Juraviel. Brynn was likely doomed, as Juraviel had admitted, but perhaps her friend would find some way to get out of this.

So she sat back against the cool wall and let the minutes slip into un-eventful hours.

Juraviel followed Lozan Duk into a smaller chamber down near the exit of the earthen tunnel - which was still blocked, as far as he could tell - where Cazzira was waiting. Without a word from the female, and without a word of protest from Juraviel, the Doc'alfar moved and slipped a thick belt Turaviel's waist, tightening it down and pinning his wings, then buck-"h'e front with some locking mechanism.

1O"V will not fly away, little bird," Cazzira remarked as she fastened the nd luraviel noted that the Doc'alfar word for ?bird" was exactly the ? ' gS the word in his own tongue: marrawee.

53 ?Do you believe that I wish to fly away?" he answered. ?Perhaps this is a j-overdue meeting between the alfar, and fate has guided me to you for a reason.' "Perhaps, Lozan Uuk said.

"Or perhaps it was simply bad fortune on your part," Cazzira was quick to add luraviel maintained a nonchalant visage until the female added, ?And even worse fortune for your n'Tylwyn Doc companion."

"Come," Lozan Duk instructed, seeming as eager to be done with this particular line of conversation as was Juraviel. The Doc'alfar crawled into the ascending tunnel then, Juraviel right behind, and Cazzira following a short distance back.

Soon after, Juraviel crawled out of the tunnel, but not into the light, though he was outside and the sun was up.

But not there. The fog was even thicker than it had been in the graveyard of trees by the peat bog, casting the place in a moist and perpetual gloom.

"King Eltiraaz has accepted your request to speak with him," Lozan Duk explained. ?You should be honored."

"Indeed I am," Juraviel replied with all sincerity. A twinge of guilt struck him as he responded, as he thought of Brynn and her likely fate. Still, Ju-raviel had to admit his excitement in seeing his white-skinned and wingless cousins. For the Touel'alfar, this was monumental news, at least as impor-tant as anything Brynn might accomplish in To-gai, and though Juraviel was surely torn and upset about the possibilities of Brynn 's lack of future, he couldn't deny his excitement, his thrill, at the opportunity to represent his people to the king of the Doc'alfar!

"Though I fear that I am hardly properly attired for an audience with your king," Juraviel added.

"Your clothing will do," Cazzira remarked. ?The road-worn, weathered outfit of a traveler, of a thief, perhaps."

Juraviel took the comment in stride and thought he detected a bit of soft-ening in Cazzira 's tone, if not her actual words.

Lozan Duk motioned for Juraviel to follow, leading him down a winding trail to a large, hollowed tree stump.

Juraviel found two depressions within, one with soapy oil and the other with clear rainwater.

The washing felt good indeed! He turned when he was done, just in time to catch a towel Cazzira threw away, then they were off again, walking the winding, fog-enshrouded trails, through skeletal black trees that all looked the same. Juraviel doubted he would be able to retrace his steps on his own, and he suspected that his two guards were tracking all about on purpose, to obscure the true path even more. They seemed a lot like the Touel'alfar, he mused.

Almost without warning, Juraviel found himself on a narrow trail amidst towering mountain walls, a narrow gorge trail that led to a huge cave. The two Doc'alfar each picked up one of those strange-glowing lanterns right inside the cave and paused, turning to their prisoner.

Juraviel looked all about, though the other walls of the cavern were far beyond the limit of the light. When his gaze at last settled on Lozan Duk and Cazzira, he found Lozan Duk coming toward him, a black hood in hand.

Juraviel didn't protest at all as they popped it over his head, pulling a drawstring set about its opening to somewhat close it. Lozan Duk took him by the arm and led him off, and they walked for a long and winding way, down corridors that closed in on Juraviel and through chambers that he sensed were very vast indeed.

A long while later, they stopped again, and Juraviel was surprised when Cazzira pulled off his hood, staring at him intently with her icy blue eyes. They were in a large chamber, and it seemed to Juraviel that he was actually out of doors again, in some secret mountain hole.

His eyes scanned up, up, eagerly, but as he turned, he quickly forgot all about the chamber itself, for there before him towered the magnificent gates of the Doc'alfar city.

"Tymwyvenne," Lozan Duk explained. ?You are the first who is not Doc'alfar to look upon the gates of Tymwyvenne in many centuries."

"I am honored," Juraviel said, again with all sincerity and more than a bit of awe, for the entrance to Tymwyvenne was what he would expect of any cousins of the Touel'alfar - and more! The doors, huge doors, as thick as ten elves side by side, were of some golden-hued wood. They hung open, flanked by two huge round pillars of the same material, which were set against a wall of gray-and-black stone. Across the top of the pillars was a third, lying horizontally above the doorway, and made of the same wood, with thousands of designs carved into it, many of them shining of various colors. Juraviel looked more closely and noted that many, many gemstones were set in that beam, a king's treasure, and he was glad to see that there was an appreciation of beauty there, as in Caer'alfar - though his own peo-ple's ideal of beauty was evidenced in the perfection of nature itself. Juraviel understood that such appreciation often signaled an understanding of the higher orders and stations of life, including mercy.

Through the doors, the trio came into an immense cavern, a place of quiet, but steady, light, where the fog was not so thick. Structures loomed all about them, made of burnished wood of varying hues and textures.

There was no one singular dominant design, but each house, for that is what they obviously were, was its own free-flowing work of art. Other Doc'alfar milled about, making Juraviel's path a veritable pa-ite All wanted to catch a glimpse of the captured Tylwyn Tou, obvi-nd he noted many expressions there, from curiosity to some almost The place had a somber tone about it, to Juraviel s thinking, gloomy but dark It wasn't hard for him to figure out his escorts' intended destinations they crossed a large central open area. Ahead of them, a crisscross of lconies lined the back wall, climbing up above the city. There, on a higher  that sat the grandest house of all, which he knew without doubt was the pice of King Eltiraazr, Belli'mar Juraviel fixed:his gaze on that house and the many surrounding ]andings~aniornate railings and balusters, trying to get a feeling for the oc-upants througlTtfeei^choice of design. The alfar could do this more easily than could humans because elven houses were rarely handed down - were, ultimately, a product of centuries of choices and intuitions and creativity from a single driving heart and mind.

This house looked inviting enough, very much like a place expecting many guests and revelers.

Of course, a pair of Doc'alfar guards darkened that notion. They were dressed in strange skin and wooden armor and held thin and nasty-looking hooked clubs, their full-faced helms showing only their dark eyes, and those eyes revealing nothing of their feelings toward this strange newcomer to their land.

The trio entered a wide foyer, then turned down a side passage and around a series of bends, at last coming into another wide room, set with two rows of decorated columns, with a thick green carpet running the length of the room between them. The only piece of furniture in the room was a large golden-wood throne near the far wall, behind which a fire blazed in a great hearth, and upon which sat a Doc'alfar with long black hair and large dark eyes. Like that of the rest of his kin, his skin was creamy white. His clothing, though, was far more remarkable. Thus far, most of the Doc'alfar Juraviel had seen were either in that curious armor or in rather plain garb. Lozan Duk and Cazzira both wore dark brown outfits - suitable for hunting the foggy bogs, Juraviel figured.

I his one - King Eltiraaz, Juraviel knew before the formal introduction - wore light-colored breeches, embroidered with many gemstones, and a rich Jurple shirt. A cape that seemed a combination of the two hung back off nis shoulders, bunching on the chair behind him. His vest was full of sewn rnages, in a thread that seemed almost metallic to Juraviel. He wore a crown leafy vines wrapped about a silvery band, metal that the Touel'alfar recognnized as silverel. That was very telling to Juraviel, for no race other than Touel'alfar knew how to farm the exotic metal from the ground, as far knew; that crown proved to him that either the Doc'alfar had held secret during the centuries of separation, or that this particular crown was a relic left over from the days when the races were one. Likely the second, he surmised, for he had seen no darkferns about, and no other sil-verel. If the Doc'alfar had the knowledge and the means to farm the won-drous silverel, they surely would not have their soldiers carrying wooden clubs!

Unless, of course, the wood of those clubs, a variety that Juraviel did not know, carried a few special properties of its own.

Flanked by Lozan Duk and Cazzira, Juraviel walked along the carpet to stand before Eltiraaz.

The King of Tymwyvenne sat very straight on his throne, staring hard at Juraviel, his expression stern and regal, his shoulders perfectly squared. He had his hands on his lap, holding a gem-capped scepter fashioned out of that same strange wood.

"You will tell King Eltiraaz your tale, Belli'mar Juraviel of the Touel'alfar, from the very beginning of the road that brought you to our lands," Lozan Duk explained. ?And of why you walk the trails with a living human beside you."

Juraviel winced a bit at that last statement, further confirmation that the Doc'alfar's contempt for humans was nearly absolute. He pushed past his emotions, though, and did as instructed, relating his tale from the battle with the goblins south and east of Andur'Blough Inninness - whose where-abouts he had no intention of disclosing - to the night of his and Brynn's capture.

King Eltiraaz listened intently to his every word, sometimes tilting his head to the side, as if he wanted to ask a question. But he remained silent and patient throughout the tale.

"Long have we known that our kin, the Tylwyn Tou, remained in the northland," Eltiraaz said after Juraviel had finished. His voice was both re-gal and melodic, a great baritone that seemed strange to Juraviel, coming out of so diminutive a creature. ?Yet no less is our surprise in seeing one, in seeing you, walk into our lands.

Know that you are the very first of our lost brethren to look upon Tymwyvenne."

"I am truly honored, King Eltiraaz." Juraviel thought it appropriate to bow at that solemn moment.

The King of the Doc'alfar nodded, then looked to Lozan Duk.

"King Eltiraaz wishes to know why you were in the company of a human," Lozan Duk asked.

Juraviel looked from the king to the other male, curious as to why Elti-raaz had not simply asked him himself.

"Brynn Dharielle is a ranger," he ex-plained. ?Trained by the Touel'alfar. It is a practice that we have employed for centuries - taking in human orphans who show promise and training them in the ways of the Touel'alfar, that they might serve as eyes and ears for my Lady Dasslerond in the wider human world."

"Why not just kill every human who wanders into your domain?" Caz-j Juraviel noted, in all seriousness. ?They are lesser creatures, i r e a t ,  should be eliminated."

"W view them more highly than do you, perhaps," the Touel'alfar id trying to remain civil, knowing that Brynn's life might be on the line !C"\X'e have come to see the humans as valuable allies at times, if often a bit troublesome."

^?More than troublesome, said Lazzira.

"Rangers are not like other humans," Juraviel stated clearly, aiming the ds at King Eltiraaz. ?They understand much more about the world than their clumsy kin. They are expert warriors, and with the temperament and instilled discipline to use their fighting prowess wisely. They are friends to the natural world, friends to jthe Touel'alfar, and surely no ranger would be a threat or enemy to the Doc'alfar." x "How do you know?" asked Eltiraak Turaviel started to echo the question, but caught himself, understanding it and replied, ?Rangers who do not show the proper temperament and judgment are not allowed back out into the wide world."

"And your companion has passed these tests?" Eltiraaz asked.

"Brynn is as fine a ranger as has ever walked out of Andur'Blough Innin-ness and Caer'alfar."

"Then why does she need the company of Belli'mar Juraviel?"

The Touel'alfar took a deep breath and considered the question, and considered how much he should reveal to Eltiraaz and the others. He had already spoken the name of his valley, his Lady, and his city, and sensed that he should trust these kin somewhat, but how might they feel about a human heading through their lands on her way to begin a war?

"Brynn Dharielle was selected among the To-gai-ru of the wild steppes south of the great mountains," he explained.

"We know of the To-gai-ru," Eltiraaz replied.

"Then you know that they are not like their kinfolk," Juraviel said. ?They are more attuned to the land and to - "

"A few of our soldiers are of To-gai-ru descent," Cazzira said, and her grim tone reminded Juraviel of the type of ?soldier" to which she was refer-ring. He looked at her, wondering how deep her enmity truly ran, and was taken in again by those exotic eyes of hers, shining icy orbs layered in emo-tion and thought.

e shook off his revulsion and focused on an interesting question: how had any To-gai-ru come to the land of the Doc'alfar? And how did the c alfar know of Brynn's people? True, the To-gai-ru settled the land only lundred miles or so south of this region, but on the other side of suppos-c% impassable mountains. Or perhaps, not so impassable?

t how to bring the conversation to that point, to where he could even i to hope that these captors would allow him and Brynn to go free at  alone tell them of a possible way through the mountains?

"Have you found no redeeming qualities in the To-gai-ru?" he dared to ask. ?Are they no more than the other humans to you?"

"Should we look, Belli'mar Juraviel?" King Eltiraaz asked. ?Is it your word to us that the To-gai-ru can be better trusted by our people? Do you believe, perhaps, that we have erred in judging them so harshly?"

Juraviel saw the potential trap, particularly in that last question, but he knew that he had to hold fast to his principles, both for his own heart and for any chance that he might find in getting past those fierce people. ?I be-lieve that you should look, if that is what you desire," he said. ?It is my word to you that the To-gai-ru are more attuned to the ways of both the Tyl-wyn Tou and Tylwyn Doc, if the Tylwyn Doc hold at all to the old ways of our people."

"More, perhaps, than the Tylwyn Tou, Belli'mar Juraviel," King Eltiraaz replied, ?if the Tylwyn Tou have come to befriend the humans."

Juraviel conceded the point without any countering statement at all, for indeed, during the old times when the races of elves were united, they had no contact with anyone who was not of the People.

"I would not say that you have erred, King Eltiraaz. That is not a judg-ment for me to make. In my own land, we preserve our secrecy with equal ferocity; a human who cannot be trusted is treated in the same manner in which we would deal with a goblin who wandered onto our land. Well, per-haps not as harshly as that - we would kill the human more quickly and mercifully.

"But not a To-gai-ru," he quickly added, though he had no idea if he was speaking the truth or not, since no To-gai-ru had ever wandered anywhere near to Andur'Blough Inninness, except for those taken in as rangers-in-training, of course. He felt that his reasoning was sound, though, and so he continued. ?My Lady Dasslerond would hold back on the killing blow against a To-gai-ru until the intruder's intent could be discerned."

"By then, it is often too late," Cazzira remarked.

"Too late for what? We fear no threat from anything short of an invading army."

That set all three of the Doc'alfar back on their heels a bit, Juraviel noted.

"Perhaps your clan is more numerous than our own," King Eltiraaz said after a short pause and a glance at his two kinfolk. ?We are not numerous, and thus we take threats against our land more seriously."

"Or you are more quick to judge intrusion as threat," Juraviel dared to say, and Cazzira at his side sucked in her breath sharply. Juraviel started to mod-ify the statement, to make it seem less an accusation, but he stopped himself short, letting King Eltiraaz weigh the words.

"Perhaps we must be," the king said a short while later. ?And I doubt not that we will hold on to our ways, Belli'mar Juraviel. They have served us well through these centuries, have kept Tymwyvenne alive. I care not enough for the clumsy and bumbling humans to risk a single Tylwyn Doc to destroy the entire human race to safeguard my people, ' Twould do so, without hesitation." kat of a Tylwyn Tou who inadvertently wandered onto your land, ltiraaz? Would such an unfortunate - or perhaps fortunate - Cousin be similarly executed, or would the King of the Doc'alfar that preserving the life of a relative was worth the risk to his people?" Eltiraaz stood up out of his throne, his gaze set grimly and sternly onjuraviel. ?Is there a threat to my people, Belli'mar Juraviel?" uraviel squared his shoulders and matched the king's unblinking gaze in " long, long silence ensued, the two/standing there, Eltiraaz a step higher than Turaviel, and thus, looking dowri at hirn\ But in truth, that height dif-ference did nothing to diminish Juraviel in th;s contest of wills.

Finally, after several minutes of the loclted stares, Eltiraaz turned to each of the others, left and right, then declared, ?There is no threat."

Turaviel held firm his gaze and/determined posture, though in truth, he wanted to blow a long and deep sigh.

So he was not to die there, it seemed. But that wasn't enough.

"And what of Brynn Dharielle?" he asked. ?She is To-gai-ru, and even more than that, much more than that, she is a ranger, trained by my people in the ways of the Tylwyn Tou. She sees the world as a Tylwyn Tou sees the world, and is more kin and friend to my people than to her own." ?So you say," Lozan Duk put in.

Juraviel looked at him, and he only shrugged in reply, as if his words were spoken in all simplicity and honesty.

"I do say," Juraviel answered, and he turned again to face Eltiraaz di-rectly. ?Brynn Dharielle is no threat to you or your people. Indeed, she is, or would be, a friend to Tymwyvenne, if you choose to allow it." ?I need no humans for friends, Belli'mar Juraviel."

Juraviel nodded and conceded the point. ?She is my friend," he said then, and somberly. ?I ask of you, King Eltiraaz, to allow my friend to leave with me. On my word, she is no threat."

1 have not yet said that you could leave," the King of the Tylwyn Doc reminded.

Juraviel did blow that sigh, and he nodded.

Soon after, he was back in the small room of peat with Brynn, sitting there silently in the soft light of the glowing torch. Brynn had immediately started to ask him about his visit with the king when he had first returned, Juraviel had waved the question away, not wanting to discuss any of For the first time in his long life, Belli'mar Juraviel felt perfectly help-less m determining his fate, and he did not like the feeling at all.

- rest of that day passed, and the next, and the only contact came from *e zombie waiter delivering their food.

the second day after his visit with Eltiraaz, though, Juraviel was summoned again from the peat cave, escorted again by Lozan Duk and Cazzira to the same throne room, where King Eltiraaz sat waiting.

"I have considered your words, Belli'mar Juraviel," the king greeted ?And I find that I believe you."

Juraviel did not reply or make any sign at all, not sure exactly what that meant.

"I will have your word that, once you have left here, you will not disclose the location of Tymwyvenne."

"I will not."

"And I will have, from you, the location of Caer'alfar," King Eltiraaz went on.

Juraviel rocked back on his heels, chewing his lip as he considered the re-quest. ?King Eltiraaz, I am similarly sworn to secrecy by Lady Dasslerond," he answered.

Beside him, Cazzira and Lozan Duk bristled.

"But this is not equal footing," King Eltiraaz replied. ?Now you, a member of Tylwyn Tou, know of Tymwyvenne, but none of us know of Caer'alfar."

"King Eltiraaz, if one of your people wandered to our lands and was cap-tured, you would not expect, nor accept, that your subject would betray the location of Tymwyvenne, even at the cost of his or her own life."

"And do you accept similar consequences for yourself and for Brynn?" the king came back without hesitation, his voice rising more than Juraviel had previously heard.

"I do, if that is your judgment," Juraviel answered just as quickly. ?If that is your decision, then I damn the fates, and not King Eltiraaz and his peo-ple, in bringing me here. But I do argue against such a course.

Perhaps there will come of this a rejoining of our peoples, or at least a growing un-derstanding of each other.

A distant alliance, long overdue."

King Eltiraaz stared at him sternly for some time, then broke into a sudden, tension-breaking burst of laughter. ?You would willingly die, and without judgment, I believe."

"I would!"

"And that sincerity makes me believe you even more, Belli'mar Juraviel, friend of Tymwyvenne. Nay, we will not kill you, or hold you any longer as our prisoner. Though I would be pleased if you would remain for some time as my guest."

"And I would be pleased to do so, King Eltiraaz of Tymwyvenne," Ju-raviel answered formally, and with a bow.

"But not alone, and not while my companion, my friend, sits in a prison of peat. You say that you believe me, and well you should. But I'll not accept anything from you - not my own freedom, not your invitation - without a free Brynn Dharielle at my side."

"And if we kill her? Are we then enemies?"

Juraviel took a deep breath. ?We are," he declared, and he couldn't be-lieve the words as they came out of his own mouth! How could he take when so much might be at stake for the TouePalfar? Surely, j friendship could blossom into something wonderful for his ?' 'en that, was he acting in the best interest of Caer'alfar - and did 'r'e the right to act in any other way? - by so protecting Brynn? ^rl'dn't honestly know, and he found that he didn't honestly care. and bring the human woman," King Eltiraaz instructed Cazzira and f Duk ?Allow her to bathe and feed her well. It seems that perhaps have made two new friends this day."

T took all the willpower Belli'mar Juraviel could muster to remain up-right at that wonderful moment.

"You are not the first human permitted to/fraik through our lands," King Eltiraaz said to Brynn when she - fresh frota her bath and with her clothes wonderfully cleaned - and Juraviel met with the Kmg of Tymwyvenne later on that day.

"Before you continue, I demand to know vAiat happened to Diredusk!" the young ranger demanded.

King Eltiraaz sat back, his expression turning stern, his eyes narrowing and focusing on Brynn. Juraviel put his hand on her arm, squeezing tightly in an attempt to silence her.

"Her horse, good King Eltiraaz," he explained. ?When we were taken, Brynn had her horse with her, a beautiful creature."

Eltiraaz relaxed visibly, and so did Juraviel.

"What happened to him?" the stubborn Brynn demanded, and Juraviel squeezed even more tightly, thinking that his companion might be throwing it all away, pushing too hard when they were obviously in no position to de-mand anything.

But again, King Eltiraaz's expression only softened. ?You have enough concern for that creature - Diredusk, you name him - to speak in this man-ner to me?"

'I do." There wasn't a hint of anything other than grim determination in Brynn's voice.

'And if your insolence costs you my patience?"

"If you have harmed Diredusk, then I want not your patience, King Elti-raaz. If you have harmed Diredusk, then - "

Itiraaz held up his hand, but it was his smile that stopped her more than my hand gesture. ?We of the Tylwyn Doc do no harm to our fellow crea-tes of Ga'na'Tyl. Your horse, Diredusk, is running free in the fields to the ast, among his own kind. Free, I say, and where he belongs."

Brynn breathed a huge sigh of relief, and so did Juraviel.

You do not wish him recaptured?" Eltiraaz asked. rynn looked up at him, and it was obvious that the king was testing her ?My concern was for Diredusk, not for myself," she answered. ?If he running free and safe, then I am satisfied."

King Eltiraaz smiled, warmly. ?Once, many years ago, a man crossed through our lands, coming from the north, and it was the decision of King Tez'nezin that he not be hindered," he went on with the tale he had been relating when Brynn had interrupted. ?King Tez'nezin, my predecessor to the throne, was rumored to have gone out to the man for a secret meet ing, though what he discerned that allowed him to change his policies __ long-standing policies of the Tylwyn Doc against humans - I cannot say.

"That human was To-gai-ru, like Brynn Dharielle, seeking a way home over the mountains or under them.

Whether or not he succeeded in return-ing to the land south of the mountains, I cannot say."

"What was his name?" a ve^y curious Belli'mar Juraviel asked. ?And when was this? A century ago?"

"His name I do not know, and it was much longer in the past. Three cen-turies, at least, perhaps four. The years, the decades, do all seem the same."

Juraviel sat back and considered the words. A To-gai-ru coming through this region from the north would be a rare thing indeed, especially centuries before, when Honce-the-Bear and Behren were avowed enemies, and To-gai was not even known to the humans north of the mountains. But there had been other To-gai-ru rangers, several over the centuries, and none be-fore Brynn had left Andur'Blough Inninness with an elvish escort, though all of them had been assigned back in their ancient homeland. Was it possi-ble that the human Eltiraaz now spoke of had been one of the To-gai-ru rangers? Emhem Dal, perhaps? Or Salman Anick Zo?

Intrigued, Juraviel rubbed a hand over his chin.

"Did he find a way over the mountains, at least?" Brynn asked. ?Or did he start on a path that he hoped would take him home?"

"No," King Eltiraaz replied, and Brynn's hopeful smile disappeared, though it brightened again as the King of Tymwyvenne continued. ?Not over the mountains. That human was guided to a way known to the Tylwyn Doc as the Path of Starless Night."

"Under the mountains," Juraviel reasoned, and King Eltiraaz nodded.

"And will you take me and Juraviel to the entrance to this Path of Star-less Night?" Brynn asked eagerly, seeming oblivious to the frown worn by the Doc'alfar King.

Juraviel caught that look, though, and he understood that this ominously named underground passageway likely lived up to some grim reputation!

"What say you, Belli'mar Juraviel?" King Eltiraaz asked. ?Do you wish to head to this path, a dark road indeed?"

Juraviel looked to Brynn, and her eagerness prodded him into agreeing to a choice that he feared he would later regret. ?We do. If this Path of Star-less Night can save us a journey all the way to the sea to the east, then per-haps it is worth the try."

King Eltiraaz sat back and nodded, his expression grave. ?Perhaps, then, all have to worry less that you will betray us to the Tylwyn looked to Brynn again, but she held her determined expression. Juravie ^ Belli'mar Juraviel tell his Lady Dasslerond about us?" Fl ' aaz went on. ?When finally you walk the ways of your homeland what will you say?"

3g"T Vill say that I have found a legend come to life," Juraviel answered. -O I will say nothing at all. The choice is yours, King of Tymwyvenne, A by your mercy and graciousness. I owe you this, at least, for my own d for Brynn's. If you wish this entire episode to retreat into the realm 'fVeUi'mar Juraviel's hopeful dreams, then so it shall." 3 Eltiraaz spent a long while mulling that over. He looked to his Doc'alfar ?ompanions, Lozan Duk, Cazzira, and several others he had invited to the meeting that day, gauging their silent answers.

"No ? he said at length. ?You will tell your Lady Dasslerond that you have looked upon Tymwyvenne and met your long-lost kin. You will tell her that she, upon the invitation of King Eltiraaz, is most welcome to visit us, that we might both learn if our peoples, Doc and Tou, should find theirlvay together again." \ Juraviel could hardly believe what he was hearing, and in truth, he terribly torn at that moment. His immediate duty was to Brynn and their journey to To-gai-ru. Or was it? Was this potential reunification more im-portant?

Should he abandon Brynn here and now and head back to the north with all speed? Or perhaps he could take Brynn back with him and delay her mission to her homeland. There was no pressing issue there, after all, nothing more than had been going on since before Brynn had been taken in by the Touel'alfar.

But then Eltiraaz settled it for him. ?But that is in the future," the king said. ?For now, your road is, and must be, to the south. We will show you the Path of Starless Night and tell you more of what we know of the dan-gers that lie within the deep mountains. You may choose to enter, or choose to turn to the east. But not to the north, not now. My people are not ready for this meeting, and I'll not force it upon them." Juraviel nodded his agreement.

And what if Belli'mar Juraviel does not return from the southland?" ozan Duk interjected. ?What if Belli'mar Juraviel does not emerge again the sunlight from the Path of Starless Night? Is this hope that we have lust shared of reunion to die with him, then?"

As he finished, Lozan Duk looked to King Eltiraaz, and Juraviel recog-Hzed then that the question was not likely spontaneous.

would speak with you privately," Juraviel bade the king, and with a wave: of his hand, Eltiraaz cleared the room of all but himself and Juraviel. you desire the meeting, and I cannot return, then send a trusted courier or two to the north, staying west of the human lands, to the moun-tain region three weeks' journey from here. Once there, call out the name of Lady Dasslerond to the night wind, every hour every night.

She will find your couriers, do not doubt, and the Touel'alfar will speak with them before passing swift judgment. Have them relay the tale of Belli'mar Ju. raviel and Brynn Dharielle, and tell of how they came to the lands of the Touel'alfar."

"And they will not be harmed? ?

Juraviel took a deep breath, ?I cannot commit to anything," he admitted ?My people are no less reclusive than are your own - it is part of our shared heritage, it would seem. The Lady of Caer'alfar is stern and strong, but she is blessed with the wisdom of the centuries. I trust she will choose correctly."

"Though you have less to lose."

"There is that," Juraviel admitted. ?It is the best I can offer, King Eltiraaz of Tymwyvenne, and more, I fear, than I should have said."

"And nothing more than we could have discerned, in any case," Eltiraaz answered with a chuckle, and he offered his hand to Juraviel, and the Touel'alfar took it in a firm shake.

"Stay with us a few weeks more," Eltiraaz offered. ?Enjoy the customs of my people, walking freely about Tymwyvenne."

"And Brynn?"

"Likewise! Let her be the most blessed of humankind, to have looked upon both Caer'alfar and Tymwyvenne!

When you are ready, we will take you to the Path of Starless Night, and you may choose your course. We will provide you with ever-burning light and with all the supplies you can carry." He paused and assumed a pensive posture, his look quizzical. ?And perhaps with more."

Juraviel understood that he should not press for more than that cryptic statement at that time. Already he had been offered far more than he could ever have hoped for, far more than he ever would have dared to ask for!

"The season means little in the Path of Starless Night," Eltiraaz went on. ?In truth, the closer you wait toward winter, the more passable will be the dark tunnels, for the spring melt will have flowed from them by then, and the new snows atop the mountains will be locked frozen in the days it will take you to cross under."

It was an invitation that Belli'mar Juraviel could not refuse, and - given that last bit of logic, one that he knew would calm Brynn's eagerness - he believed that his companion would readily agree. Perhaps if they stayed in Tymwyvenne, their trip to the south would prove no less time-consuming than the long journey around the mountains, but in truth, it was more than the loss of time that had Juraviel trying to avoid that circuitous route. He had little desire to cross the human lands of Honce-the-Bear, and even less to try to find his way through hostile Behren. There Brynn would be can��t no more than a pig looking for a slave owner and he, if his true as a Touel'alfar was ever discovered, would likely be put to a swift , a sacrifice to Yatol. this would be a most-welcomed rest, not for weeks, perhaps, but for "Do you believe him?" Brynn asked Juraviel that same night, the two , nding some quiet time trying to sort through the momentous events of jay How swiftly their fate had changed! And how unexpectedly! 1 ?If King Eltiraaz meant us harm, then why would he go to all this trou-ul?" the elf replied. ?He had garnered all of the information he will get m me from us, concerning Andur'Blough Inninness, and he knows that. No he is sincere." As he finished, smiling, he noted that Brynn's sour ex-pression had not changed. He looked at her curiously, silently prompting her to elaborate.

"I meant about Diredusk."

"They said he was running free with other horses."

"But did they say that merely to calm me?" the young woman asked. ?Are they merely telling us what we need to hear? ?

Belli'mar Juraviel settled back. ?No," he answered with the calm of com-plete confidence. ?Have you noticed the tables they set? The meals they have brought to us? ?

Brynn tilted her head, staring at him intently, needing to find the same conclusions as he obviously already had.

"They eat the produce of the earth, the gifts of Ga'na'Tynne. They eat the fruits and vegetables, the fungi of the tunnels. But not the animals. King Eltiraaz spoke truly of his people when he said that they hold the creatures of Ga'na'Tyl in the highest reverence and would not harm them. Diredusk is running free and unharmed, I am sure."

"They harm no creatures of Ga'na'Tyl," Brynn echoed with a sarcastic chuckle. ?Except for humans."

"Whom they believe deserving of their wrath," Juraviel was quick to point out. ?Consider those of your race with whom they have had contact. Trappers and hunters, loggers and rogues who have been chased from their own lands. Humans who clear-cut the trees and slaughter the animals, often merely for a pelt to sell in the east. Humans who set traps that cause excru-ciating pain to their prey, without regard for the animal. If the Doc'alfar feel kinship to the living animals, then how could they not feel anger at some or the tactics that trappers and hunters of your race employ?"

Brynn merely shrugged and shook her head, hardly seeming convinced the argument that the Doc'alfar were, in some way, justified in the hor-We executions they routinely practiced on humans inadvertently walking onto their lands. Juraviel didn't try to convince her otherwise, didn't believe that she would ever truly understand. For she was human, if Touel'alfar trained and To-gai-ru, and she understood there to be a redeeming side to her race. Ju-raviel recognized that as well, but, seeing the world as a Touel'alfar, he was much more sympathetic to the Doc'alfar view of things. In many ways, he saw these distant cousins as even more honorable than his own people, who hunted the deer, pigs, fowl, and rabbits of Andur'Blough Inninness. The Doc'alfar only did harm to living creatures they believed deserving of their wrath. It wouldn't occur to Eltiraaz to have a great deer slaughtered to fill his own table with venison steaks. It wouldn't occur to any of the Doc'alfar to kill foraging creatures that happened onto their gardens.

No, but hu-mans were not like the animals, for they were possessed of reason.

To the Doc'alfar way of thinking, then, that reason condemned them for actions against the precepts of Doc'alfar life.

When he thought of the horrid zombies, Juraviel shuddered and could not totally agree with the Doc'alfar ways. But neither could he deny that there was a consistent simplicity to that philosophy, and one that had more than a little justification.

He looked over at Brynn, who had settled back and seemed ready to sleep, and he did not press the point any further.

The pair felt the looks, most merely curious, but some truly suspicious, on them at all times as they walked the ways of Tymwyvenne over the next week. They were allowed practically free rein, except that they could not leave the city - King Eltiraaz didn't want to give away too much of the exact location, after all - and could not enter anything other than public struc-tures unless invited, which they were not.

It was pleasant enough, though, and surely interesting. For Brynn, this was yet another new world, widening her already wide horizons; and for Belli'mar Juraviel, this was a glimpse into a different branch of his own history. Many of the Doc'alfar customs were familiar to him, the notes of their communal songs so similar to those of Caer'alfar that at times he was able to join in. But so much else was different, and strangely fascinating! His own people worked with the living, with great trees and flowers, blend-ing into the harmony of the flora and fauna of Andur'Blough Inninness. The Doc'alfar, though, worked with the dead, with cut logs and zombie slaves. Their artisans carved masterwork pieces on the walls of every struc-ture. Their armorers turned slabs of wood into fantastic shields and body pieces, backing them with thick mosslike blankets the gatherers brought in. Their culture seemed somewhat coarser to Juraviel, as much a matter of de-struction as creation, but in truth, it seemed strangely beautiful to him, and equally harmonious with the ways of nature, if in a more severe manner.

Their guides through all of those days were again Lozan Duk and, sur-prisingly, Cazzira. The female Doc'alfar seemed much different to Juraviel and Brynn after the proclamation of King Eltiraaz, almost as if she now wanted to learn all that she could of the strangers, though whether that was of any desire for friendship, or for the information to give her the edge ver an enemy, neither Juraviel nor Brynn could tell. While Cazzira con-?tantly peppered the pair with questions, Lozan Duk took the lead in point-' out landmarks and particularly interesting artworks. But it was Cazzira, nd not Lozan Duk, who called Brynn aside into a building where the fe-nales of Tymwyvenne used paints and oils to highlight their beauty, to style their hair.

By the end of the week, Cazzira and Brynn were spending much time together, with Cazzira listening to Brynn's tale over and over again, leaning forward eagerly as the young ranger recounted it each time. Juraviel watched the pair curiously and closely, fearing that Cazzira was trying to pry valuable information from Brynn, but he did nothing to warn Brynn away from speaking too openly. The Doc'alfar were in complete command, and Ju-raviel and Brynn had no choice but to trust them and simply go along.

Still, Belli'mar Juraviel had a feeling, or perhaps it was just a desperate hope, that something good would come of the unexpected encounter.

"Belli'mar Juraviel was correct in telling us that this ranger is not akin to humans," Cazzira reported to King Eltiraaz one evening after hearing Brynn's tale yet again, from beginning to end. ?If humans have such/poten\ rial, then perhaps we should not be so quick - Eltiraaz held up his hand, stopping the uncomfortable thought shorj/ ?Our ways were created for prudence and survival," he explatnectTThey will not change quickly, whatever exception we might make for this unusual pair."

Cazzira sat back and considered the grim reality of Eltiraaz's words. She could be among the most hardened and callous of the Tylwyn Doc, but only through putting up an emotional wall, a barricade against guilt. Cazzira, however tough she might talk, did not enjoy the killings, even of inferior beings such as humans, though she surely held no love for the big and bum-bling creatures.

"It may be time for some of our ways and tenets to change," King Elti-raaz admitted, catching his subject by surprise.

Cazzira looked at him curiously, blinking her blue eyes repeatedly. It may be time for us to explore beyond the boundaries of Tymwyvenne," the king went on after Cazzira had recovered.

To the north or south?" Cazzira asked, her blue eyes narrowing as she scrutinized Eltiraaz, trying to discern his meaning. Did he want someone to head out to the north in search of Caer'alfar? Or was he suggesting that one of the Tylwyn Doc accompany the two strangers to the south, through the 1 ath of Starless Night and onto the southern steppes?

I think we would be ill-advised to approach this land, Andur'Blough In-ninness, that Belli'mar Juraviel has told us about, without Belli'mar Juraviel to serve as our guide," Eltiraaz clarified. ?Or to offer a formal introduction to his Lady Dasslerond, that she will take the time and effort to better learn of us before making any rash judgments."

"Are you asking me to walk the Path of Starless Night?"

"I am suggesting that perhaps one of the Tylwyn Doc should accompany Belli'mar Juraviel and Brynn Dharielle," Eltiraaz replied, somewhat defen-sively, sitting back in his throne and holding his hands up as if to fend off the legendary explosive wrath of Cazzira. ?Am I asking you? No, not ask-ing, Cazzira, not if you mean that I am somehow imploring you or com-manding you to go. I am asking only in the sense that I am offering it to you first, as the first to make contact with these intriguing strangers."

Cazzira sat back, trying to hide the surprise from her fair features. It wasn't often that King Eltiraaz asked, truly asked, instead of commanded for that was his place in Tylwyn Doc society. He was the king, bound to make those decisions that he thought most beneficial to the Tylwyn Doc people as a whole, whatever sacrifices any individual might have to make. Yet, here he was, offering the duty of accompanying Juraviel and Brynn to Cazzira. That told Cazzira exactly how important, and dangerous, that duty might prove to be.

They were going to walk the Path of Starless Night, after all, and while Tylwyn Doc individuals and parties had sometimes ventured through the lightless tunnels, and To-gai-ru humans had exited them on the northern side of the mountains, most who entered those dark ways had never been heard from again.

"Do you think it wise that one of us accompany them?" King Eltiraaz asked, again surprising Cazzira.

"I do," she blurted before she could even sort through a more thorough and informative response.

Eltiraaz settled back, allowing her to collect her thoughts.

"This is an opportunity that we must explore," Cazzira went on after a while. ?I did not wish to believe Belli'mar Juraviel when first I encountered and spoke with him. I thought him even worse, even more dangerous, than the human intruders who sometimes cross our lands. Here was a creature above those humans, a kin of ours, who perhaps held the power to destroy us utterly. We cannot let him walk away unobserved."

"And yet, I have come to understand that there is no such malice in Belli'mar Juraviel's heart, and if the rest of his people are of similar feelings toward the Doc'alfar" - King Eltiraaz stumbled over that Touel'alfar word, mimicking JuraviePs voice inflections as closely as possible - "then I believe we would be wise to make contact with our lost kin."

"It may be no more than wishful thinking."

King Eltiraaz gave a great sigh. ?Perhaps. I feel that there is sincerity in Belli'mar Juraviel's words of friendship, but I am afraid," King Eltiraaz ad-mitted. ?In making such a choice to let him and Brynn Dharielle go, I am putting all of Tymwyvenne in danger."

"In allowing Belli'mar Juraviel and Brynn Dharielle to live, you are doing Cazzira replied. ?Yet I do not, nor does anyone else, suggest that you Ikhem now. Indeed, if you chose to give Brynn to the bog and execute or Turaviel, you would find opposition to that course, silent if not overt." "From your ?No."

King Eltiraaz laughed at the honesty of those words. Cazzira was speakand it seemed to Eltiraaz that she, too, preferred their present  urse toward the strangers. But fierce Cazzira never let compassion get in e way of prudence. ?Yet I am not ready boldly to approach Lady Das-Jerond," he admitted. ?I am not ready to confront the past of Tylwyn Doc and Tylwyn Tou. I know my intuition toward Belli 'mar Juraviel and his ranger companion, but it is just that, intuition. I will need more than that to attempt to bring the alfar together again."

Cazzira nodded with every word, understanding completely. ?Then you need not ask me," she said. ?It is right that one of us accompany Belli'mar Turaviel, to the south and then back again, if this way he comes. And it is right that I am the one. I first saw the pair."

"But it was Lozan Duk who suggested that Belli'mar Juraviel ancL-Bfynn Dharielle be captured and not killed,"

Eltiraaz reasoned.

"Qui'mielle Duk is with child," Cazzira replied without the slightest hesi-tation, referring to Lozan Duk's wife, who was indeed pregnant - the first pregnancy in Tymwyvenne in nearly forty years. ?Lozan-T>uk^shouTa not leave. ?

King Eltiraaz stared long and hard into Cazzira's icy blue eyes, measuring her resolve.

Juraviel and Brynn removed their hoods on Cazzira's command, blink-ing their eyes against the brilliant late-summer sunlight. Despite Juraviel's original decision against a long delay, they had spent several weeks in Tym-wyvenne, where the sun did not shine, and now the brilliant warmth felt good indeed!

So good that it took Juraviel a long while to realize that he and Cazzira and Brynn were apparently alone, with no sign of the contingent of more than a dozen other Doc'alfar who had accompanied them out of the city.

They were in the foothills of the giant mountains, so close that Juraviel derstood that this area just north of the divide would be bathed in shadow at this time of day in a few weeks, when the sun lowered in the sky Wither to the south.

"Where are we?" Brynn asked. ?And where are your kinfolk?"

We are where you said you wanted to be," Cazzira answered. ?Close to - at least. And why would the Tylwyn Doc wish to accompany you to the J-L Starless Night, a place where we do not often choose to go?" Then why are you here?"

Juraviel was sharing a stare with Cazzira as Brynn asked the question reading her thoughts. ?You intend to come with us," he reasoned, and when there came no immediate argument, he went on, ?This is our road, one cho-sen by fate and by need. There is no reason - "My king believes that there is a reason," Cazzira interrupted. ?You have wandered onto our lands, Belli'mar Juraviel. Do not pretend that your pres-ence in Tymwyvenne means nothing to Tylwyn Doc, or to Tylwyn Tou.

Per-haps it means nothing immediately significant, but now the races know of each other once more, and that is a door that, once opened, cannot be closed, for good or for ill."

"Unless I die in the southland, or on my way to the southland."

"Yet we still know of you, of Caer'alfar and Andur'Blough Inninness And so King Eltiraaz would learn more.

Slowly and in proper time. He would like to keep you in Tymwyvenne for many months, years perhaps, that he might truly learn your heart and your thoughts. But he cannot in good conscience, of course - and despite my counsel - because of your need to be away to the south."

"We are grateful for King Eltiraaz's understanding of our situation."

"And he wishes your response to be the gratitude of a friend," Cazzira said. ?He hopes that more will come of our chance meeting - much more. Thus, he must continue his exploration of Belli'mar Juraviel's heart, through Cazzira, who serves as his eyes and ears."

"And what of me?" Brynn asked, her tone showing that she felt a bit left out.

"You are still alive, and on your way," Cazzira replied, never taking her stare from Juraviel. ?Be pleased, Brynn Dharielle, for that is more than most humans who wander onto the land of Tylwyn Doc can ever say!"

Brynn sighed and did not press the point.

"And so you will serve as King Eltiraaz's eyes and ears all the way to the entrance to the Path of Starless Night?" Juraviel asked.

Cazzira gave a little laugh and swept around, waving her arm out toward a dark shadow at the base of a nearby jag of stone. ?We are at the en-trance," she explained, pulling off her pack as she spoke. She untied and opened the pack, producing three of the blue-white glowing torches, toss-ing one to each of her companions while keeping the third for herself. ?The continuation of your road, the beginning of my own."

Cazzira started toward the shadowy opening, but Juraviel grabbed her arm to stop her. She turned about and the two locked stares again.

"This is not your business," Juraviel said.

"Is it yours?"

"It is because Lady Dasslerond decided that it was."

"As it is mine because King Eltiraaz decided that it was," Cazzira an-swered. ?Perhaps the Tylwyn Doc have no place in the affairs of the Tylwyn Tou, or in the affairs of the To-gai-ru or any humans at all. Or perhaps we not trust you enough to let you walk out freely. That is what we discover. Consider my company the price of your freedom, if you -? a return favor from Belli'mar Juraviel and Brynn Dharielle." raviel continued to stare at Cazzira for a long, long while, and then he  d and gave a helpless, defeated laugh. How could he refuse her com-chip after the amazing trust the Doc'alfar had placed in him and in  At other part of Belli'mar Juraviel wondered why he would want to e her as well. Would it not be more pleasant for him to have another along who understood his perspective of the world, the elven viewpoint? He was a fine companion, but she was a human, and would soon be among her own kind, heavily involved in their politics and ways, and during that transition, Juraviel knew that he would be little more than a distant observer. Perhaps those days would be brighter indeed with the companionship of one more akin to him.

Besides, there was something about Cazzira that Juraviel found quite ap-pealing, despite her stern face - or possibly, because of it. Her often fiery and volatile remarks reminded him of another he had once known, a Touel'alfar named Tuntun who had been his dearest friend. Cazzira even looked a bit like Tuntun.

"Lead on," he said, and so she did, and so Cazzira and Juraviel and Brynn entered a narrow tunnel that widened into a large and airy cave. Tw exits ran off the back of the cave, deeper into the mountains, and Cazzira considered each for a few moments, then nodded and went into the one to the left.

Soon all daylight was left behind, the trio entering a darkness so pro-found that, without the strange torches, they would not have been able to see a hand flapping an inch from their faces.