'Adon must have had ye in His hand,' said Rael.
'Indeed,' replied Tipperton.
'Hoy, now,' said Beau, 'speaking of Adon, what's all this about Gyphon? Just who is this Modru, and why would he go against High King Blaine?'
All eyes turned to Talarin, but he in turn looked at Rael. 'Chieran.'
Rael took a deep breath. 'I will answer thy last question 'first, and thy first question last, Sir Beau.'
She paused as Talarin refilled her own cup, and Loric murmured, 'Settle back, my wee friends, for the crystal seer's tale may be a long one.'
Tip glanced from Loric to Rael in puzzlement, yet before he could say aught, Rael began.
'Modru is what some call a Black Mage-'
'Black Mage?' blurted Beau. 'Sounds grim.'
Rael nodded.
'Just what is a, um, Black Mage?' asked Tipperton.
'One who twists his arts toward evil ends,' replied Rael. 'One who seeks to gratify his own desires through any means, fair or foul. Perhaps the principal mark of a Black Mage is his complete disregard for the needs of others except as they serve his own pleasures and his lust for total dominion o'er all.'
'Oh, my,' said Beau.
'Are there many Black Mages?' asked Tip.
Rael canted her head. 'Dara Arin once told me-'
'Dara Arin?' Tip interjected. 'Lady Arin of the ballads? Lady Arin and Egil One-Eye and the quest of the Green Stone of Xian?'
Rael took a breath to answer, but Loric said, 'Ah, wee ones, should ye continue to ask, mayhap it will be after the spring thaw ere the crystal seer can finish her tale.'
Tip looked at Beau, and that buccan made a motion as if he were buttoning his lips together, and Tip turned to Rael and said, 'Loric is right. Please do go on, and we will try to hold our questions for another time.'
Rael smiled and looked at Tip. 'Still I will answer thee: Dara Arin is indeed the Lady of the ballads, who, with others, quested after the green stone-the Dragonstone of dreadful portent. And during that quest she came upon knowledge that there are a number of Dark Mages upon Mithgar, though how many she knew not.
'Regardless, Modru is one of these, and he squats in his cold iron tower in Gron and seeks sway o'er the world, or so we do believe.
'In recent seasons, we deem, he has been gathering Foul Folk-the Spaunen pouring across the in-between, coming from the Untargarda, the iron tower being one of the principal crossing points 'tween Neddra and Mithgar, or so we think. Drearwood would seem to hold another crossing point, or so all the signs do say.' Rael paused, for both Tip and Beau frowned in puzzlement.
'Ye have questions?'
Beau looked at Tip and then made a motion as if unbuttoning his lip. 'This 'Untargarda,' these 'crossing points,' and this 'in-between,' Lady Rael-I know a bit of what you're talking about, but only a bit. Could you explain the whole of it?'
'Me, too, I'd like to know,' said Tip. 'My da told me some, but he didn't know much of what was called for, though he did say that Foul Folk came from Neddra below, and Elves from Adonar above, and Mages from who knows where, and Warrows should simply stay put and that was that.'
Rael smiled and looked from Warrow to Warrow. 'All right, my wee friends, this I will say: there are many Planes of existence, but the principal three are the Hohgarda, the Mittegarda, and the Untargarda-the High Plane, the Middle Plane, and the Low Plane. And upon each of these Planes there are many worlds, though once again there are a principal three-Adonar, Mithgar, and Neddra.'
Both Tip and Beau nodded, for this agreed with what they had been told.
'For the most, the Planes are separated from one another,' continued Rael, 'but there are crossing points where the Planes are congruent and one may go in between-in between worlds, that is-but only under certain conditions: the in-between points upon the separate worlds must be a fair match to one another, the better the match, the less difficult the crossing. Even so, there are certain times of the day when the crossings in between can be made easier still: to come from Adonar to Mithgar, dawn is best, for it is neither day nor night, but in between; and to go from Mithgar to Adonar, the crossing is best made at dusk, which again is neither day nor night, but in between; and it is said that to cross from Mithgar to Neddra, mid of day is best, for it is neither morning nor afternoon, but in between… and to come from Neddra to Mithgar, mid of night is best. Yet there are still more things which ease the passage: crossing in fog, for it is neither air nor water, but in between; crossing along a seashore, for it is neither water nor land, but in between; at the brim of a woodland, for it is neither forest nor field, but in between.
'Still yet there is more, for to make such a crossing of the in-between, one must follow a ritual: and for Elven-kind it involves a stepping rite, on foot or by trained horse, neither a walk nor a dance, but in between; and a chant, which is neither talking nor singing, but in between; and because of the ritual of chant and step, the mind becomes lost in the rite, neither wholly conscious nor unconscious, but something in between.
'And this is why we call such passages where we go from one Plane to another, from one world to another, as traveling the 'in-between.' ' Rael looked at Beau and then Tip, one brow raised.
'Lor',' breathed Beau.
And Tip added, 'Lor' indeed. How did you ever come to discover such an arcane practice?'
Rael smiled, saying, ' 'Tis said that Elwydd Herself taught Elvenkind.'
'And you say that the Foul Folk are using such a ritual to cross into Mithgar from Neddra?'
'Aye, wee one, all the signs say they are swarming across the midnight in-between by droves-Ruch, Lok, Troll, Ghulk on Helsteed, and more-at Modru's cold iron tower in Gron and mayhap in the Drearwood, too. He is gathering, has gathered, a great force of Spaunen to do his bidding. Too, it is rumored he woos Dragons to his cause, though I stress 'tis but a rumor.'
'Dragons?' exclaimed Beau. 'But I thought they mostly left folk alone.'
Rael nodded. 'All but the renegades-those who would not take the pledge.'
'Ah,' said Tip. 'As told in the legend of Arin and Egil One-Eye.' The buccan frowned a moment in concentration, then chanted:
'All must aid when Dragons raid, And only the renegades do.'
And Phais intoned:
'Friend and foe, enmity must go, Or both the day will rue. '
Tip laughed and clapped his hands, saying, 'Ah, Lady Phais, I see you know the Ballad of Arin, too.'
'Indeed,' said Phais, smiling. But then her smile vanished and she said, 'Yet Dragons or no, suffice it to say that Modru has gathered Swarms of Spaunen unto himself and now makes war on High King Blaine.'
'But what about Gyphon?' asked Beau. 'How does He figure into this?'
Phais smiled grimly, and gestured at the walls. 'That is why we have come unto this particular alcove, for the tapestry tells that tale.'
'Huah,' grunted Beau. 'Tells the tale? All I see is someone in a dell who seems to be making a speech.'
'Nay, Sir Beau,' said Talarin. 'Look closely.'
Both Tip and Beau stood and stepped closer to the tapestry; then Beau clambered upon a bench and Tip upon a chair for a closer look still.
'Why,' said Beau, 'these aren't people at all, but instead are…' His voice faded as he shook his head in puzzlement, and he turned toward Talarin. 'I say, what are these?'
'Beings of… light?' suggested Tipperton, reaching out to gently touch subtle colors of the silken weaving.
Beau swung back 'round and peered at the figure where Tip's fingers rested, and then at the others. 'I say, Tip, they do look as if they're shafts of light… or some such.'
Puzzled, Beau turned once more to Talarin. 'But I thought that the gods would look like, uh…'
'Like us?' asked Talarin. 'In the form of Lian and Waerlinga and Human and other such?'
Beau shrugged.
Talarin smiled and shook his head. 'In spite of what some preach, 'tis the greatest of conceits for any peoples to believe they are created in the image of gods.'
