The prince shrugged. 'Just let me out of this hole, and I will be content.'
The harbor guards brought Lamruil directly to the queen's council chamber, as she requested. A spasm of pain crossed her drawn face as her gaze fell upon her son's wasted form. Even thin as he was, clad in filthy garments and marked with several small wounds from the battle that freed him, he carried himself with an arrogance that brought frowns to the faces of all of Amlaruil's advisers.
Even so, he was her son, her last child. Amlaruil flew to him and enfolded him in her arms. He embraced her briefly, then took her shoulders and put her away from him.
'There is little time, mother,' he said urgently. 'I know where the other four ships are bound. One carries three score Red Wizards, determined to despoil Evermeet's magical treasures. With them are human ruffians who came for gold and elven wenches. There are more of their ilk on each of the four remaining ships. Human wizards, too, and as many fighters as they could pack into the hold like cord-wood. I know what I am asking of you, but I know too that you would wish to know this.'
Amlaruil's troubled eyes searched his face. 'Ilyrana is gone,' she said softly. 'If I do this thing, will you take your father's sword?'
'Bring it to me,' the prince said stoutly. 'I will take it up if I must!'
The queen nodded to an adviser, who brought the sheathed weapon from its place of honor on the pedestal behind her throne. She laid it on a table nearby.
'All of you must bear witness to this. I name Prince Lamruil my successor. Now you must keep silent while I cast the needed spell.'
Keryth leaped to his feet, shaking with rage. 'You cannot, my queen! I know what you mean to do, and I know what the end will be. You are needed here! We will deal with these ships. Surely they are not such a threat as the prince tries to paint them!'
A hesitant expression crossed Amlaruil's face. 'You have seen these ships, Lamruil. Must I cast this spell?'
Before he could answer, the sounds of a brief struggle and a woman's angry voice erupted from the hall. Maura burst into the chamber, her eyes wild. She gasped at the sight of Lamruil, but did not go to him. Rather, she ran to the queen and quickly told her all that she had seen.
'The warrior maid is Ilyrana,' Maura concluded. 'And she called for you! The elf-eater is in Arvandor itself! It attacks the spirits of the faithful. I saw Zaor among them.'
Amlaruil's face firmed with resolve.
'We need you here,' Keryth repeated.
'Not really,' Lamruil said coldly. 'Whether she casts the spell or not, I would demand her abdication. The sword is mine now, and the kingdom with it.'
Maura rounded on him. 'And what of your queen? What of me?'
A faintly puzzled expression crossed the prince's face. 'What of you? I will chose an elf maiden of high family for my queen.'
The woman's eyes flamed. 'You are nothing but a… an albino drow!' she gritted out.
The prince shrugged again and turned to the queen. 'Well, mother? What will it be? Duty as always?' He let out a brief, scornful laugh when Amlaruil nodded, and then turned to the cowled elf at his side. 'Convinced, my lord? Will you tell her where these ships might be found?'
The elf slipped off his hood, to reveal a handsome but unfamiliar golden face. He spoke briefly and precisely. When he was done, Lamruil took up one of the queen's pale hands and pressed it to his lips.
'Farewell then, mother,' he said lightly.
The queen stared at him a moment, and then turned and walked to her throne. She sat upon it, and closed her eyes. An aura of magic gathered around her as she began the casting that would send the dangerous ships from her shores-and that would send her to fight once again at Zaor's side.
The elves watched with tears in their eyes as their queen summoned her final spell in their defense. Silent power gathered, swirling through the room like a whirlwind and whipping the elves' hair and cloaks wildly about. Suddenly there was an explosion, a second terrible silent blast.
Amlaruil was gone.
In one quick movement, the prince lunged for the king sword and drew it from its ancient scabbard. The stunned and grieving elves were dealt a second shock to see the prince standing, alive and unharmed. The sword of Zaor gleamed in his hands, and the magical blue light seemed to hum with righteous wrath.
'I name you, Kymil Nimesin, traitor to Evermeet, and I call upon the magic of the sword to dispel the illusion you have cast. All of you, bear witness.'
The features of the Gold elf's face shimmered and blurred, quickly rearranged themselves into a familiar visage-that of the elf whose machinations had led to the deaths of King Zaor and Amnestria.
'He is revealed and accused. You, the advisors of Queen Amlaruil, say now what must be done. What judgment do you render?' Lamruil cried.
The traitor's sentence was passed in a single word, spoken as if from a single throat. The young king of Evermeet lifted the moonblade to pass sentence.
Kymil Nimesin saw death coming, and took the only escape he knew. He touched the gem Lloth had given him, releasing the powerful spell that contained the elfgates of Evermeet in a single entity. Some of this released power opened a gate he had prepared as a last eventuality.
The sword of Zaor swished harmlessly through the empty air. Once again, the Gold elf had escaped.
Amlaruil was thrust into Arvandor with a force that sent her reeling. Strong arms closed around her, familiar arms. She looked up into the face of her only love-Zaor, looking as vital and as young as he had when they first met in their glade. She touched his face, then reached out a hand to her daughter's powerful new form.
'Both of you, lend me your strength,' she murmured.
The queen of Evermeet turned to face Malar's monster, not entirely certain what she would do to counter it. To her astonishment, two godly forms followed in the creature's shadow, their crimson eyes gleaming with malevolent delight.
A grim smile formed on the High Mage's lips, and she began to gather magic. No longer hampered by her mortal body, she drew lavishly from the power of the Seldarine, and from the strength of Ilyrana's faith and Zaor's love.
Magic flew at the evil gods in a streak of blue radiance. It enveloped them in a burst of bright light, and then just as quickly disappeared. In place of the huge, black-furred creature Malar once had been stood a tall being who, to any observer, might as well have been an elf. At his side was a dainty, white-skinned elven goddess.
Lloth, who had lifted her hands to hurl retaliatory magic at the hated elf queen, shrieked at the sight of her own hands.
The elf-eater whirled toward the sound, and then darted at this meal that had been presented so close at hand. The evil gods, sensing imminent destruction at the hands of their own creature, turned to flee. They disappeared with a burst of sulphur-scented smoke, and the creature of Malar followed in close pursuit.
Amlaruil smiled and turned to Zaor. 'The spell will not hold in the Abyss-I have no power there. But oh, the look on her face!'
The united family burst into relieved laughter, holding each other close in the joy of an eternity begun.
After a few moments, Amlaruil pulled away. 'There is something I must show you,' she said softly. 'A final message from our youngest son, the king. He pressed it into my hand during our final farewell.'
She pulled a tiny note from her sleeve and showed it to him. On it was written a single phrase: 'Once again, for the good of the People!'
Zaor looked into her eyes and smiled. 'So you were right, after all. Lamruil will be a fine king.'
The queen saw that her love did not yet fully understand their son's words. Lamruil knew of the sacrifices his mother had made. Once before she had renounced her love that Evermeet's needs might be met. Lamruil was urging her to once again set aside her deepest love; he himself would do so, if needed.
'Yes,' she said softly, 'He will be a fine king. But not of Evermeet.'
Epilogue
