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possible the man no longer remembered him. Nor was Tay wearing the robes of his order, having
reverted to the loose-fitting Elven garb preferred by the Wesdand people, so it was possible the locat
was unable to identify him as a Druid either.
I need your help in finding something, Tay continued, undaunted. The other s thin face cocked
slightly in response. If you agree to help me, you will have the opportunity of saving lives, many of them
Elven. It will be the most important finding you will ever undertake. If you succeed, no one will ever
doubt you again.
Vree Erreden looked suddenly amused. That is a bold claim, Tay.
Tay smiled. I am in a position where I must make bold claims. I leave tomorrow for the Sarandanon
and beyond. I must convince you to go with me when I do. Time doesn t allow for a more subtle
persuasion.
What is it you are looking for?
A Black Elfstone, lost since the end of the world of faerie, thousands of years ago.
The small man looked at him. He did not ask Tay why he had come to him or question the strength of
his belief. He accepted that Tay had faith in his power, perhaps because of who he was, perhaps
because of what he did. Or perhaps because it didn t matter. But there was curiosity in his eyes and a
hint of doubt.
Give me your hands, he said.
Tay stretched out his hands, and Vree Erreden clasped them tightly in his own. His grip was
surprisingly strong. His eyes met Tay s, held them for a moment, then looked through them and beyond,
losing focus. He stayed like that for a long time, as still as stone, seeing something hidden from Tay. Then
he blinked, released his grip, and sat back. A small smile played across his thin lips.
I will come with you, he said, just like that.
He asked where they were to meet and what he was required to bring, then turned back to his maps
and writings without another word, the matter forgotten. Tay lingered just long enough to make certain
there was no further reason to stay, and then left.
So they numbered fifteen in the end as they departed Arborion in the slow rain of early dawn, cloaked
and hooded and faceless in the gloom, and they had come for reasons best known to themselves. No
one would speak hereafter of these reasons. No one would believe it made a difference. A decision
made was a decision accepted. Armored in that conviction, they wound down out of the Carolan to
where the Rill Song churned within its banks, crossed on a ferry raft kept in service for the city, and
struck out west through the shadowed corridors of the ancient woods.
They marched all day through the rain, which did not cease, though after a time it lessened. They
stopped once for lunch and twice at springs to refill their water skins, but they did not rest otherwise. No
one tired, not even Vree Erreden. They were Elves and used to walking long distances, and all of them
were fit enough to keep up with Jerle Shannara s moderate pace. The way was muddied and the footing
uncertain, and on more than one occasion they were forced to find a way across a ravine which had
flooded because of the rains. No one complained. No one said much of anything. Even when they
stopped to eat, they sat apart from each other, withdrawn into their cloaks from the weather, thinking
their separate thoughts. Once Tay stopped Vree Erreden to tell him how much he appreciated his
decision to come with them, and the locat looked at him as if he had lost his mind, as if he had just made
the most ridiculous statement in the history of mankind. Tay smiled and backed off and did not try to
approach the other man again.
They moved steadily farther away from the mountains that warded Arborion and closer to the
Sarandanon. Night came, and they made camp. No fire was built, and the evening meal was eaten cold.
It was dark and still within the trees, and there was no movement save for the steady falling of the rain.
Another day or so would pass before they were free of the woods and onto the open grasslands of the
valley. The country would change dramatically then as they traveled through the farmlands that produced
the crops and livestock that fed the Elven nation. Beyond, the better part of a week s ride farther, waited
the Breakline and their destination.
Damp, chilled, and lost in thought, Tay sat by himself when the meal was finished and stared out into
the gloom. Hoping to find something he had missed, he replayed in his mind the vision of the Black
Elfstone that Bremen had been shown at the Hadeshorn.
The details of the vision were familiar by now, smoothed out like wrinkled paper so that they might be
reexamined and considered at leisure. Bremen had given him the description of the talisman s hiding place
just as it had been revealed by the shade of Galaphile, so that all that remained was to find it again in real
life. There were several ways that might happen. The Trackers Preia Starle and Retten Kipp might
discover the Black Elfstone through an accumulation of physical evidence in the course of their scouting. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
