shadowy interior, the sun-blinded elf would have been an easy kill.
The only sounds came to him from the desperate skirmish outside. Though the cave's interior was shrouded in shadow, Kagonos trusted the sensitivity of his ears in assuming that he was alone within the darkened interior. Besides, any lurking ogre would have been shrewd enough to attack him immediately, not giving him the time to adjust to the darkness.
Probing with his left hand and feeling cautiously along the floor with his feet, Kagonos worked his way along a shadowy passage. Elven eyesight is keen in the dark, and he quickly discerned additional details about his surroundings. Several small passages branched to either side, but all of these would have been a tight fit for even a slender ogre. The wild elf, assuming that the brutes would have spurned these tight squeezes in favor of the more spacious central corridor, continued to advance.
Heart pounding, Kagonos darted around a corner, seeing nothing but the continuance of the winding passage. Where was the Bluestone? He scarcely dared to breathe, so intent was he on the search-and so acutely conscious of the importance of the potent artifact.
Abruptly a flash of azure light caught his eye, and Kagonos knelt among the rubble within a narrow alcove. Desperately he clawed at the stones, pulling large rocks free with sharp tugs, excavating a steadily growing hole. The faint but noticeable illumination grew stronger, clearly blue. There was no doubt in his mind that he had found it: the thing that had made this attack necessary, and whose recovery would provide the means to win the Dragon War.
Grunting from the strain, he pulled a large boulder out of the way, and finally the treasure lay revealed. Kagonos paused, vaguely surprised-and disappointed. He had expected to find a magnificent jewel, smooth and bright, gleaming from a multitude of facets like the gems he had seen cut and polished by the jewelers among the House Elves.
Instead, he found himself looking at a stone of irregular shape, dirty and scuffed-an oblong rock that was nevertheless as large as his head. Though the azure illumination glowed from within the rock, the surface itself was dull, stained, and pockmarked. The Bluestone was a jagged, knobby stone that lacked the polish and glimmer of the carefully sculpted jewels used by elves and ogres for ornamentation. No jeweler had touched tool to this stone, and in places dirt and a crust of lichen tried to obscure its inner heart.
Yet in this they could not succeed, for the Bluestone pulsed with a light that would not be quenched. Carefully, reverently, Kagonos reached down and took the stone, surprised by its unnatural warmth. The hair on his scalp prickled upward as the stone's aura seemed to crackle in the air around him.
How many elves of his tribe had died that he might now hold this stone in his hands? He thought, with a bitter pang, of Dall, of his own inability to save his brother's life. It was a failure that would haunt him, he knew, for the rest of his years. Had it been worth the price-of Dall, and of all the other wild elves who would never descend, alive, from this bloodstained hilltop?
Countless ogres had died, too, in the fight. Would those monstrous warriors feel as though their lives had been wasted? The Elderwild shrugged away the question, telling himself that the thoughts of his enemies were of no concern to him. Still the wonder remained, tugging at his thoughts.
Cradling the precious artifact in his arms, Kagonos emerged from the narrow cave mouth.
Vaguely he heard the cries of battle still ringing around the camp and realized that the ogres had been prepared to flee and leave this precious artifact behind.
'Let them go,' he said quietly, waving his hand dismis- sively toward the knot of terrified survivors. Scowling in perplexity, but not questioning their Pathfinder's command, the Elderwild warriors fell back. Like creatures of one mind, the ogres stampeded away from the cairn, scrambling over the crude wall and plunging through the deep snow.
Kagonos held the heavy gemstone, awestruck at its reputed power. Would they get it to Silvanos in time? He didn't know how the power of the stone was invoked, but he felt certain that the stone had to be nearby when the blue dragons arrived. If such an ambush could be arranged, the artifact would imprison the souls of the dragons within the stone-and the last wing of the Dark Queen's serpents would be vanquished. But it would take the rest of the day to march down from this mountain, and another day or more to reach the elven army on the plain.
Unless a faster means could be found.
Instinctively the elf raised his eyes to the sky. A speck appeared, soaring closer with powerful wing strokes, and with bittersweet satisfaction Kagonos saw that the transportation of the gem, at least, would be taken care of by an emissary of Silvanos.
The flying creature was a griffon, and the trailing golden hair of the rider clearly marked him as an elf. The great eagle wings spread into a soaring dive, while the beaked mouth of the griffon opened in a wide, shrieking cry. The animal's hindquarters, muscular and feline, covered with sleek brown fur, absorbed the shock of the landing as easily as a pouncing lion's. The griffon's forelegs, feathered and taloned like the limbs of a great eagle, came lightly to rest on the rocks. The creature pranced back and forth between these avian feet, allowing its powerful hind legs to absorb most of its weight.
Even before Kagonos saw the rider, he knew who it was. The wild elf struggled to swallow the hatred that had lingered from centuries before, though his emotions surged as strongly as if the enchanted arrow had pierced Darlantan's body only a week ago.
'Greetings, Quithas,' Kagonos said stiffly. He did not bow.
The elven warrior, his golden hair flying in the breeze, his golden breastplate sparkling in the sun, dismounted and swept his eyes over the bloody hilltop. With loathing, the Pathfinder recognized the crossed claws of the griffon emblazoned on the gilded shield.
'Silvanos placed his army in considerable danger, based on the word of the dragon Darlantan. I hope that you have made the risk worthwhile.'
'We did-if you can get him this gemstone before it's too late.'
'You killed many ogres, I see-somewhat surprising, given your primitive weapons and tactics,' Quithas remarked, as if he hadn't heard the wild elf.
'We regained the Bluestone-the gem that was lost by the House Elves. Now, take it to Silvanos before it is too iate.'
The timing is good,' Quithas allowed, reaching out and taking the gem. He barely looked at it before tucking it into a deep saddlebag. 'The blue dragons winged into sight this morning, but that silver wyrm-Darlantan- ent aloft to fight them. I should think he would be able to delay their attack until my return.'
Abruptly the golden-haired elf spun around to face Kagonos. Face flushed, Quithas dropped his eyes to the stiver axe, now cleaned, that swung at the wild elf's hip. The Pathfinder was strangely unsettled by the dramatic alteration in the House Elf's mood.
'I see that you taunt me with my axe. One day we will not be allies, Wild Elf. Then 1 shall kill you and take it back.'
Without a backward glance the elven commander leapt again into the saddle of his proud flying steed. Sensing its master's tension, the griffon sprang upward, and the eagle wings quickly caught the wind and carried it aloft. Watching him shrink into the distance, Kagonos cursed Quithas for his arrogance, yet wished him all the speed in the world on his mission. Darlantan was powerful, but how long could he do battle with a host of blues, the immortal children of Takhisis?
'My Pathfinder…' The voice belonged to Felltree, the young chieftain of the Black Feather tribe. Kagonos knew that he had displayed a great deal of courage in the past. Now Felltree's voice was tight, his eyes wet with unshed tears.
Then, in a withering storm of despair, Kagonos knew why. The warrior bore a bleeding, lifeless form in his arms. The Pathfinder didn't need to look closely to recognize the body of his brother Kyrill.
Chapter 5
More than two hundred of tbe tribe's braves had fallen during tbe battle. The slain Elderwild were buried
