And there was one other thing that Belli'mar knew, whether he admitted it to himself or not: if he went down to Pony and hugged her, if he allowed himself to recognize the deep and abiding friendship between them, the love that had bound him to the sides of Elbryan and Pony all the way to the dungeons of St.-Mere-Abelle and back, then how could he not tell this woman of the child now living in Andur'Blough Inninness? Her child, Elbryan's child.
'You have a soul stone,' he remarked suddenly, needing to change the subject. 'Where are your others?'
Pony shrugged. 'I hardly care,' she said honestly. 'Nor is the Church overly concerned. More gemstones will find their way out of the abbey coffers.'
'You have heard this?' Juraviel asked, and he truly wanted to know. If the magical gemstones began flowing out of the various abbeys, the implications to the Touel'alfar could be significant and dire.
'I sense it,' Pony answered. 'The era of Markwart, and the centuries of policies that led to the creation of such an animal as he, has ended, and the era of Avelyn will soon begin.'
'You believe that Avelyn would be careless with the stones? '
'I believe that Avelyn would put them where they could do the most good,' Pony answered confidently. 'As he did with the turquoise he gave to Symphony, to heighten the bond between the horse and Elbryan.'
Juraviel let it go at that, understanding Pony's mind in this, and knowing that any further answers from her would be nothing more than conjecture. Juraviel understood, and was even a bit envious, of the motivations behind those avowed followers of Avelyn: a generosity and clear mission to make all the world a better place. But Juraviel was more pragmatic and realistic than to believe that their plans would be realized so easily. The gemstones were power, pure and simple, and letting that kind of power out into the world could have many more disastrous side effects than those people blinded by compassion could ever foresee.
Humans did not live a long time, Juraviel reminded himself. They considered a mere century as more than a lifetime, and so they often acted shortsightedly; humans would do that which helped immediate situations, often to disastrous effect for future generations.
But Belli'mar Juraviel was not human; he was Touel'alfar and had seen the birth and death of several centuries. Pony's words now only strengthened the elf's feelings on that which he had to do and made Juraviel wonder honestly if Lady Dasslerond hadn't foreseen this impending change in Church policy.
'I tell you this last thing because I am your friend,' Juraviel said. 'Understand well the gift that Nightbird gave to you; it is, among my people, as high an honor as can be bestowed.'
'Bi'nelle dasada,' Pony reasoned a moment later.
'It was not his to give,' Juraviel explained. 'And he should not have done so, not even to you, without Lady Dasslerond's permission.'
Pony didn't even begin to know how to answer that surprising remark.
'And it is not yours to give,' Juraviel went on, his tone turning grave. 'I have sworn that you will not, and based upon my trust in you, Lady Dasslerond allowed you to live,' Juraviel said. Each word he spoke made Pony's blue eyes open a bit wider in sheer astonishment. ' I pray that you do not betray that trust.'
'I would never,' the woman breathed.
'So I told my lady,' said Juraviel. 'And I would not even have told you of this, except that I fear that you do not understand the power of that gift and the need that we have to keep it secret.'
'Never,' Pony agreed.
'Belster returns,' the elf announced, seeing the man bouncing up the path toward Pony.
'His archer friend found him down the road,' the innkeeper said to Pony when she turned to regard him. 'I think the fool dropped his bow when ye chased him off. Pity for the two o' them if they find highwaymen waitin' for them down the way a bit!'
Ironic and fitting. Pony thought, and she turned back to the tree and Juraviel.
But the elf was already long gone.
By the time he neared Dundalis, Juraviel was certain that he had left Pony and Belster far, far behind. Pony had come after him, once, on that first night after he had left her with Belster. Using the soul stone, the woman had flown out of body, covering miles in seconds. Juraviel had felt her presence, and keenly, had even heard her telepathic call-and not just her feelings, but actual words, asking for an explanation.
But the elf had pretended not to hear, or at least, not to hear well, so that he had merely whispered farewell several times and kept on his speedy way. Soon, Pony had given up the chase.
Truly, the dismissal of his friend was tearing Belli'mar Juraviel apart, as was the secret of the child being trained in Andur'Blough Inninness. The entire result of the demon war was not as Juraviel had hoped or predicted. First he had lost one of his very best friends, Tuntun of the Touel'alfar, in the bowels of Aida. And then Nightbird had fallen. And now this. Juraviel had envisioned himself sitting on a hillock with Bradwarden and Nightbird and Jilseponie, trading stories and listening to the centaur's song. It was a fantasy Juraviel had played out in his mind a hundred times, and now that it could not come to pass, it was a continual emptiness, a pang he felt forever within his heart.
All that he could hold against that pang, all that he could use to battle back, was the truth of his heritage. He was Touel'alfar, and would have outlived Nightbird and Pony, and their children's children's children.
Barely three days after his encounter with Pony, Juraviel found himself in the forest of the Timberlands again, following the song of Bradwarden, and found the centaur and Roger at their favorite hillock under the starry sky. Juraviel noted with interest that the stallion, too, was nearby, tethered to a tree at the base of the open mound.
'Taked ye long enough,' the centaur remarked, lowering his pipes, and Roger came up on his elbows.
'Sooner than agreed,' Juraviel replied. 'We said a week, and yet only six days have passed. Will you need the seventh to finish preparing the horse?'
Roger's groan was telling indeed.
'No, he's as good as he's to get for now,' Bradwarden answered. 'A fiery little beastie, don't ye doubt. Ye'll be findin' yer road a spirited run, but he'll take a saddle, at least.'
'Then I will be gone before the dawn,' the elf announced, surprising both his friends.
'In a hurry, are ye? '
'I am not out for pleasure, but on an errand for my lady,' Juraviel explained. 'She bade me return with all haste, and so I shall.'
Roger looked from Juraviel to the centaur curiously. 'Are you coming up for a drink, at least?' he asked, for Juraviel had stopped halfway up the hillock, and showed no signs of coming any closer.
'Presently,' the elf answered. 'I have a bit more to do to prepare for the road. I met Jilseponie on the road north of Caer Tinella.' Roger perked up at that. 'She and Belster should arrive within a few days.'
And with that, the elf skittered off into the forest. In truth, he had nothing left to prepare-he would find his supplies along the road-but he wanted to minimize his contact with any potential plague carriers, his friends included.
Bradwarden's song went on for a long, long time, and so in tune was it with the natural surroundings that Juraviel hardly noticed when the last delicate notes drifted into nothingness. But when he did register the silence, the elf knew that it was time for him to move, and quickly.
He went back to the hillock, and took comfort that Bradwarden, who never seemed to sleep, wasn't about. Up he went, to find Roger snoring contentedly beside the orange embers.
He found the gemstones, as expected, in Roger's belt pouch-a ruby and a soul stone, a lodestone and a graphite, and several others-and wasted no time in pocketing them. He did glance back once, stung by a pang of guilt-Roger was his friend, after all-but then, remembering who he was and the needs of his people, the needs of the people, he moved swiftly down the hillock and untethered the horse, then walked off into the dark forest.
'Way before the dawn, by my countin',' he heard Bradwarden's voice soon after, for though Juraviel could easily have gotten away from the region without being noticed by anyone, the centaur included, Bradwarden could certainly track a horse.
'The sooner I begin, the sooner I find my home,' Juraviel replied calmly.
The centaur came into view a few steps down the trail behind him, and started to catch up, but Juraviel held up his hand, motioning for Bradwarden to stay back.
'What're ye about, elf?' Bradwarden asked.
'I am in a hurry, as I explained,' Juraviel replied.
'No, it's a bit more than that,' Bradwarden reasoned. 'The Juraviel I know doesn't refuse an offer of a drink
