Enemy a source of strength and provision which it would be well to deny to
—«♦»—
FOUR days later, the Elven army marched on the cavern of the Shadowed Elves.
Idalia had done her best to try to detect other encampments of the creatures using the Wild Magic, but had had no more luck than on previous occasions, and Vestakia’s power did not work at any great distance.
Atroist had made the attempt as well, both using the scrying bowl, and using an instrument new to Kellen and Idalia, something he called a hanging-crystal. When not in use, he wore it on a cord about his neck: it looked to Kellen like a clear, teardrop-shaped keystone, the narrow end wrapped with silver wire to make a loop for the cord to pass through.
But apparently it could be used to find things.
Atroist demonstrated in Idalia’s pavilion. It found, in succession, a set of her hair combs, Kellen’s dagger, and a pair of Vestakia’s gloves, all hidden in various places about the tent as a test. When the crystal was working, it would point directly toward the object, even if it had to hover horizontally at the end of its cord to do so.
Then they turned to the map. Without difficulty, and with perfect accuracy, the hanging crystal located Ondoladeshiron, Sentarshadeen, Armethalieh, and the Wildwood.
But it was completely unable to locate any of the Shadowed Elf enclaves, even the one they already knew about.
“Well,” Idalia said with a sigh, “we tried. I guess it’s up to you, Vestakia.”
Vestakia nodded grimly. None of them were happy about this, but none of them were surprised, either.
—«♦»—
THE Elven Knights of five cities marched in force, though not all of them would make the descent into the caverns. Once the caverns themselves had been cleansed, Kellen knew, Redhelwar intended to reclaim the bodies of their fallen comrades and fellow Elves lost in the attack upon the caravan from Sentarshadeen.
The Unicorn Knights rode nearly a mile ahead of the main army, functioning as its scouts and trailblazers, following a trail Kellen had last ridden less than two moonturns before.
At the end of six days of traveling, the Unicorn Knights reached the battlefield. They’d seen no sign of coldwarg, ice-trolls, or frost-giants, and Ancaladar had reported that the skies were clear of Deathwings. From here it was only two days to the Shadowed Elf caverns, at the speed the army traveled.
To the unaided eye, everything was pure and pristine, the bodies buried beneath several feet of new snow, but no one thought of it that way. This was a haunted place, drenched in blood and sorrow, and would remain so forever in the memories of the Elves.
Ancaladar and Jermayan circled low over the field, the wind from the dragon’s wings stirring the loose surface-snow into dancing veils. A second circle, and Ancaladar headed westward again.
“It looks as if they’ll find us a place to lay our heads tonight,” Gesade said, stretching out her long elegant neck and shaking it. “Useful things, dragons.”
“I have never said dragons weren’t useful,” Petariel said to his mount. “And if you could fly, Gesade, there’s a faint possibility you might someday be of some use as well.”
The unicorn snorted and did not reply.
—«♦»—
THE campsite Jermayan and Ancaladar had found was, Kellen judged—perhaps three hours’ ride from the caverns, in a sheltered valley surrounded by towering pines. It was a large enough open space to hold their entire force, and far enough away from the cavern that their arrival should not alert the Shadowed Elves.
Once the army and the supply train arrived, and the camp was in place, Redhelwar called his commanders— and Vestakia and the Wildmages—to the command tent to make his final dispositions for the attack, and to make certain that all the commanders had the opportunity to review the maps that Kellen and Idalia had prepared.
Vestakia would be going into the caverns with them. Kellen was worried about that. While Tandarion had made her a fine suit of Elven armor to protect her—with gold-washed vermilion enameling the precise shade of her
