power. Dragon turtles possessed a keen, if somewhat unfathomable, intelligence. It was not pleasant to ponder what this one might have in mind, what might bring it so close to Evermeet's shores. Indeed, the dragon turtle had been swimming straight for the elven island.
As they neared the surface, Anarzee noticed an unusual turbulence sweeping the surface of the water-far too much to be explained by the dragon turtle's passage. She came up into the air to be greeted by a chill blast of wind from the north, and buffeted by the surging, restless waves. Yet the sky was clear and cloudless, and the stars shone almost as brightly as Leuthilspar's festival lights. Whatever troubled the sea was no natural storm.
A large wave caught Anarzee and tossed her high. Just before she was slapped back into the sea, she caught sight of a distant, brightly lit ship, gliding northward on calm waters.
Anarzee's breath caught in her throat as she recognized Darthoridan's ship. But her pain was immediately overtaken by a surge of relief. The waters surrounding Evermeet were protected from storms by Aerdrie Faenya herself. Her beloved was safe in the hands of a powerful elven goddess. His wedding ship could not be swept away by this storm unless it deliberately ventured out into the troubled sea.
Or unless it was forced.
Suddenly the Sea elf suspected what mischief the dragon turtle had in mind. She dived deep and frantically called the dolphin back to her side.
I need to see that ship. We must leap above the waves! she urged him.
The dolphin was not easily convinced. For many moments they argued in vehement clicks and chattering that transformed the waters around them into a dizzying whorl of vibrating sound. At last the dolphin conceded and allowed Anarzee to take hold of his dorsal fin. Both of the sea folk swam upward with all their strength, and then hurtled themselves up into the final spring.
As Anarzee clung to the leaping dolphin, she saw her beloved's ship lurch suddenly toward the east. It was as she feared: The dragon turtle was forcibly herding Darthoridan out to sea.
Without pausing for thought, Anarzee left the dolphin behind and sped toward the doomed ship.
The night was nearly spent when Vhoori Durothil's skiff touched the docks of Sumbrar. On the main island, the midsummer festival was still in full celebration. All the people of Evermeet, not only the elves of every race but all the other fey creatures who made the island their home, marked the longest day of summer with music and dance, feasting and revelry. Though Vhoori was not adverse to gaiety, he was eager to return to his island, and his tower, and his all-consuming work.
Vhoori's accomplishments had outstripped most early predictions of his potential. His skill at magical communications, in particular, was uncanny. Many times he had foreseen approaching danger and given warning, and so effective was he at this task that the entire outpost island of Sumbrar had been placed under his rule. A large contingent of warriors were garrisoned there, and a score of fighting ships were kept on alert. But perhaps Sumbrar's most potent defense was the magic wielded by its Circle. Vhoori Durothil's tower had become one of the largest in the elven realm. Many young mages vied for the honor of training with Sumbrar's High Mage.
Yet there were back on Evermeet many elves who feared Vhoori Durothil's growing power, and who spoke out against the dangers of isolating a tower of High Magi, and the dubious wisdom of placing a considerable fighting force in the hands of a single elf Chief among these dissenting voices was that of Darthoridan Craulnober.
Vhoori gritted his teeth at the thought of his rival. At the last council meeting, not more than a fortnight past, Darthoridan had spoken long and eloquently about the dangerous divisions growing between the various races of elves. He had even had the nerve to point out that only Gold elves were accepted into Sumbrar Tower, and that only Gold elves fought in the outpost guard.
This was true enough. In Vhoori's eyes, this practice was merely a matter of preference and convenience, but Darthoridan's words had made it appear a sinister plot. The seeds of suspicion had been planted in many a fertile Moon-elven mind. This, Vhoori could not allow. The mage could ill afford to have attention focused upon his work, and he had no intention in any event of becoming accountable to a Gray elf.
Nor was this the worst that Darthoridan had done. The Craulnober upstart was gaining ground in the Council, and was even spoken of as a possible High Councilor. Vhoori Durothil fully intended that this honor would be his. He had chosen his wedding gift for Darthoridan accordingly.
Somewhat cheered by this thought, the mage alighted from his skiff and hastened to the uppermost room of his tower. There he kept the Accumulator, as well as many, many other magical objects he had collected or created. Even now, in the darkest hour of the night, the room would be bright with the combined light of a hundred softly glowing spheres.
As Vhoori entered the chamber, he noted that he was not alone. Before one such globe sat Mariona Leafbower, her eyes fixed upon the globe and her pale face twisted in an expression of intense longing.
Vhoori pulled up short, startled by the captain's presence in this, his inner sanctum. His next thought was concern for what the elf woman might have seen. Each magical globe was a window, and some of the sights they revealed were for his eyes alone.
But predictably enough, the captain gazed into the globe that probed the stars beyond Selune.
The mage cleared his throat. 'If you wished to see the stars, Captain Leafbower, you had only to walk outside the tower. This is my private room. There is no reason for you to be here.'
Mariona glanced up. A wry smiled lifted one corner of her mouth as she took note of her host's consternation. 'No reason?' she echoed dryly. 'It's midsummer night, Vhoori. Maybe I came here hoping to celebrate with you.'
A startled moment passed before the mage understood this comment for what it was. He could not imagine intimacy of any kind with this tart-tongued elf woman, but he had become well acquainted with her tendency to say things meant to throw him off stride. That had worked, once. These days he merely responded in kind.
'I am surprised you noted the changing of seasons, much less the coming of the solstice,' Vhoori said mildly. 'Perhaps you have become more attuned to this world than you like to admit.'
Mariona's lip curled into a sneer. 'Not likely! The sooner I shake the sand of this wretched place off my boots, the happier I'll be!' She rose abruptly and stalked over to the mage, her fists planted on her hips. 'And speaking of which, when can I leave?'
'Leave?'
'Don't play the fool!' she snapped. 'The first ship is nearly full-grown. The original helm has been rebuilt and tested beneath the waves. The air envelope held; the ship is fully maneuverable. I can leave this place, and I want to do so at once.'
Vhoori sighed. 'We have had this conversation many times, Captain Leafbower. Yes, there is one ship ready for starflight. But tell me, who would crew this ship? Who but you is eager to make this long trip? Shi'larra?'
Mariona glared at the mage, but she could not refute his words. She had not seen her former navigator for years. Shi'larra had declared herself utterly content with her new home, and had long ago disappeared into the deep forests of Evermeet.
Nor was the forest elf the only member of Green Monarch's crew to have gone native. One by one, the elves had slipped ashore, armed with papers of introduction from Lord Durothil himself.
The captain hissed in frustration. The fools had probably spent the night dancing beneath the stars, never giving a thought to the days when they had traveled among them!
Well, to the Abyss with them. Surely there was another way off this rock.
'What about your wizards?' she asked grudgingly.
In the years since she'd made landfall, Vhoori had learned some of the secrets of star travel, mostly by experimentation, and had taught them to several young magi of his Circle. Any one of the Gold elven wizards could get her where she wanted to go. Mariona had seen better helmsmen in her time, but she'd certainly also seen worse. And Sumbrar's warriors were an elite group, well trained and highly skilled in the ways of ships and seas. Surely some of them would be eager to travel the stars. There was glory and adventure, and even treasure aplenty to be had in the service of the Elven Imperial Navy.
'My people know their roles, and they are content with them,' Vhoori said. 'And truly, why would any elf want to leave Evermeet, but for Arvandor itself?'
The mage spoke simply, calmly, as if stating a widely accepted truth. As indeed it was, Mariona reluctantly acknowledged. At that moment, the captain understood at last the futility of her long-cherished dream.
She let out an oath and backhanded the nearest globe. The priceless, magical crystal flew across the small room and shattered against the wall.
