be too battle-dazed to suggest anything, so the bardling said as firmly as he could:
“Eliathanis, why don’t you see if you can coax our mules back here?”
“Ah. Yes.”
“And, Lydia, can you help me lift Naitachal? The sooner we get him—and us—away from here, the better.”
“Right.”
For all his worry and ever-growing weariness, the bardling couldn’t help but feel a little thrill of wonder at the way they were obeying him without question.
Maybe I am o leader after all. Sort of, anyway, he added wryly. For now, anyhow.
Naitachal slept without stirring all during Eliathanis’ finally successful efforts to persuade the snorting, still- trembling mules to return. He slept during that entire day’s ride through field and forest, alternately supported in the saddle by Kevin, Lydia and Eliathanis—He continued to sleep while they set up camp for the night, lost in so deep and still a slumber that Kevin began to worry.
He’ll wake up soon enough. Of course he will.
But Naitachal continued to sleep. And at last Kevin’s worry grew to the point where the bardling couldn’t stand it any longer. Glancing uneasily at the others, he burst out with the question he suspected they were all thinking:
“What are we going to do if Naitachal doesn’t wake up?”
“He’ll wake.” Eliathanis, tending the campfire, didn’t sound quite sure about that.
“But what if he doesn’t?”
“He will,” Tich’ki said firmly. “Look, I’m the only other one of us who has any real magic, and believe me, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen a magician overtax himself to-the point of collapse. There’s only so much strength in a body, you know.”
“Yes, but—”
“Very true.”
It was little more than a whisper, so unexpected a sound that they all started.
“Naitachal!”
“So I am.”
The Dark Elf sat up, very slowly and carefully, as though he wasn’t quite sure his body would obey him. Lydia made an abortive little move towards him, then stopped with a cautious, “How do you feel?”
“Like something dragged up by one of my own spells,” Naitachal admitted wryly.
“But you’ll be all right?” Eliathanis’ eyes were oddly wary.
“Indeed.”
This is ridiculous! This is Naitachal, the comrade who’s been riding with us all along. He hasn’t turned into a monster.
But even as he thought that, Kevin knew they were all a little leery of Naitachal now, this Dark Elf who had suddenly revealed himself as a fearful necromancer who could destroy a foe with one blast of sorcerous flame—
I will not be afraid of him!
After all, how could he forget how the Dark Elf had comforted him after he’d killed that bandit? Whatever else Naitachal might be, that hadn’t been the act of a cruel being, or an evil one.
The bardling deliberately moved to the Dark Elf’s side, and received a faint smile in return.
“That was a marvelously clever thing you did, Kevin, hurling the rock at the sorcerer to break his
