The Coral Kingdom

commanded the attention of the Synnorian Elders. 'It is said-also in legends, of course, though I have heard it from those who call it fact-that there are ways known to the elves, paths that lead to Evermeet from across the Realms. Is there such a way you could employ to aid us?'

There was no mistaking the pain that flashed across Erashanoor's face, and Alicia felt a surge of suspicion. Had the wizard guessed at the secret of the Llewyrr? As quickly as that, her suspicions were replaced by hope. Did that mean that there was a route to Evermeet? Could her father be saved?

'That route is closed,' Brigit said, unable to conceal her grief. She turned and spoke to the Serene Matriarch, who gasped in shock at Brigit's words. 'The Ityak-Ortheel corrupted the Fey-Alamtine-smashed the passage beyond recognition. Evermeet can no longer be reached through the Synnorian Gate.'

'So much corruption, such evil. . and our islands are so small,' observed Ate'Niah after a somber pause.

'And shared by our peoples together,' observed the queen of the Ffolk. 'It is not unreasonable to believe that the forces sending the Elf-Eater against Synnoria are the same dark ones who hold my husband hostage.'

'Quite possible, Noble Queen,' replied the matriarch of Synnoria. 'But alas, it does not change the fact that, so long as our path to Evermeet is closed, we cannot aid you in the rescue of your husband.'

The hope that had blossomed in Alicia's mind wilted with this revelation, and despair threatened to claim her. Her father was lost, in truth. There would be, could be, no rescue.

'Evermeet is an island, correct?' asked Brandon, speaking for the first time. His voice was gruff, as if the words came forth only with difficulty. He, too, had been forced to unusual lengths of self-control to maintain his silence.

Erashanoor and the matriarch both nodded somberly, watching the Prince of Gnarhelm carefully. If the Llewyrr regarded the Ffolk with cautious hostility, the northmen they had considered blood enemies for many centuries.

'An island not impossibly far from here, from the Moonshaes.' Brand turned to face his companions, his words warming to the topic. 'Well, we could sail there! It can be no longer a journey than a dozen of my ancestors have made at some time or another!'

'Impossible!' snapped Erashanoor, appalled.

'It cannot be done. You would not survive to reach the island's shores!' confirmed Matriarch Ate'Niah.

'Begging your pardon, Your Royal Matronship, but I can take a ship a good many places others have said a ship was never meant to go!' Brandon pursued.

'You don't know what stands in your path,' exclaimed Brigit, her eyes wide and her tone serious. She looked at Brandon with sympathy, but shook her head. 'There are magical cyclones that rise from the sea, crushing ships into kindling. There are the Warders, great sea beasts who spend their lives ensuring that no vessel can approach the elvenhome.'

'Sea beasts and cyclones!' Brandon laughed, although admittedly the sound was somewhat forced. 'Nothing I haven't faced a dozen times before!' Alicia had to admire his bravado. As he spoke, she found herself believing him, wanting to sail with him against these foes.

'And even if you survive the barriers-an unlikely occurrence, assuredly,' offered the matriarch, 'you would be slain as soon as you stepped ashore. Humans are not welcome on Evermeet.'

'Perhaps … but perhaps not,' noted Robyn thoughtfully.

'What do you mean?' inquired Brigit, intrigued in spite of herself.

'Perhaps we could land safely if we had an escort… an elven escort!'

'Impossible!' shouted Erashanoor, his wrinkled visage flushing indignantly. 'It is as I suspected. You seek to seduce us away from our valley! It won't be-'

'I'll go.' Brigit's voice cut like a blade through the gatekeeper's ranting. Erashanoor stopped speaking but forgot to close his mouth in astonishment. 'I will sail with you to Evermeet. Once there-if we get there-I will act as your agent, presenting your request for aid.'

'If you don't believe we can get there, why do you volunteer to come along?' asked Alicia, unable to banish the challenge from her voice.

'Friendship,' said Brigit bluntly. 'And perhaps a measure of gratitude. . and respect.'

Alicia regretted her tone, her face flushing with embarrassment at the sister knight's generous words. But her mother smoothly moved past the moment.

'I thank you, my old friend,' Robyn said, stepping forward to clasp both of Brigit's outstretched hands.

And as quickly as that, the matter was settled.

'Enough of these distractions!' The voice of Talos, backed by thunder in his rage, echoed and resounded through the halls of his smoking realm.

Even Malar, mortal enemy of elvenkind, would have quailed before that anger, except for the fact that any such display of weakness in the face of a fellow god could have potentially disastrous consequences. So instead, the Beastlord pretended haughty indifference and turned a bored, deathlike eye toward his unholy ally.

'Very well,' he agreed, his own voice a basso rumble that could be felt to the core of the plane around them. 'Ityak-Ortheel was an amusing diversion, but the Synnorian Gate is still closed-and no doubt the Llewyrr have been driven deeper into their shell than ever. I am satisfied.'

'Good-very good!' Talos grumbled, mollified.

'Have the humans replied to Sinioth's demands?' inquired Malar, none too eager to dwell on the previous topic of conversation. Talos shook his head, and the ground rumbled beneath him.

'The king of the Ffolk. .?' Malar mused. 'Should he be put to death?'

'Not yet!' Talos commanded without hesitation. 'We hold a vital trump, my ally. We should not be hasty to discard it!'

'Very well,' agreed the Beastlord, phrasing the central question. 'What do we do now?'

'We have the glass… in the hands of our young tool,' Talos noted.

'Proven doubly useful,' Malar agreed.

'So we wait,' said Talos, his voice low, almost bored. 'Then later, after the humans have had time to grasp their impotence, we will send them his other hand.'

The other god smiled. The plan had an appealing ring.

PART II: EVERMEET 8

The Third Princess of Moonshae

Brandon's eyes swept the horizon with obvious eagerness as the party drew near Corwell on the return from Synnoria. Alicia attributed the northman's eagerness to his love for the sea, assuming that the week-long trek into the highlands had been a hard separation for the sailor.

Of course, the princess herself looked ahead with growing eagerness as their horses alternately cantered, trotted, and walked along the King's Road of Corwell. The solid bulk of Caer Corwell, atop its rocky knoll, would be a clear sign of their homecoming, looming before them for the last six hours of the ride. At the same time, Alicia reminded herself, pastoral Lowhill would come into sight, a clear reminder of their mission's grim cost.

Brigit accompanied the human riders. Her lieutenant, Colleen, had pleaded with her to come as well, but Brigit had agreed that she would be the only elf to accompany the party. This much she was willing to compromise with her mentor, Erashanoor. Despite the fact that a departure from Synnoria-not to mention a sea voyage! — loomed as a major trauma to the Llewyrr, the elf had completed her preparations in the hour following the council in ruined Argen-Tellirynd.

The matriarch had prevailed on the battle-weary companions to spend one night in the elven vale, which they had done gratefully. The hypnotic splendor of the place Robyn recalled from twenty years before remained absent-a fact that was hardly surprising, considering the chaos that had just wracked the valley.

By the following dawn, propelled by unspoken urgency, they were saddled and ready to ride. Deirdre, they