to know of his life with the Stors and the work that he would be doing when he left their village again and returned to the Southland as a Healer. Her interest in him was genuine and pervasive, and it whispered of need. Nor did they speak only of him. They spoke of her as well, of her childhood as the granddaughter of the King of the Elves, of growing up the only child of Eventine’s lost son. She told Wil of the Elven way of life, of their strong belief in giving back to the land that nourished and sheltered them, something of themselves, something of their lives. She exchanged with him ideas on the ways in which the races might better serve the needs of one another and of the land. Each argued gently and persuasively for understanding, compassion, and love, discovering as they did so, with some surprise, that their beliefs were very much the same, that their values were values shared.
Carefully, by cautious degrees, they bound themselves, each to the other. Deliberately, they avoided saying anything of the journey on which they had been sent, of the danger that threatened the Elven people and of their own responsibility for putting an end to that danger, or of the ancient and mysterious tree they called the Ellcrys. There would be time enough later for that; this time could be better used. It was an agreement arrived at not by words spoken, but by simple understanding. They would speak openly of the past and the future; they would say nothing of the present.
The talks gave them comfort. Without, the rains fell unceasingly, the gray haze of the storm washed the land, and the Rill Song rumbled in discontent on its passage south. Shut within their dark concealment, buffeted by winds and water, lacking sleep and appetite, they might easily have given way to apprehension and doubt. But the talks gave them comfort, born of feelings shared, of companionship, and of understanding. It gave them a sense of security in each other’s presence, muting at least in part the unpleasant sensation that the whole of their world was passing away and that, with that passing, their lives would be forever changed. It gave them hope. Whatever was to befall them in the days to come, they would face together. Neither would be forced to stand alone.
Sometime during those gray, rain–filled hours, a strange thing happened to Wil Ohmsford. For the first time since that night in Storlock when he had agreed to travel to the West land with Allanon, he found himself caring, deeply and compellingly, about what was to become of Amberle Elessedil.
It was late afternoon on the second day of their journey when they arrived at Drey Wood. The heavy rains had diminished to a slow drizzle, and the air had gone sharply chill with the approach of nightfall. Gray dusk shrouded the forestland. From out of the west a new bank of threatening black clouds had begun to roll toward them.
Drey Wood was a stretch of dense forest covering a series of low rises which ran eastward from the left bank of the Rill Song to a line of high, craggy bluffs. Elms, black oaks, and shag–bark hickories towered over a choked tangle of scrub and deadwood, and the forest smelled of rot. A dozen yards inland from the riverbank, there was nothing but blackness, deep and impenetrable. Rain falling into the trees in a steady patter: was the only sound that broke the stillness.
The Elven Hunters guided the unwieldy barge into a shallow bay where a docking slip jutted outward from the bank, waves breaking against its pilings and washing over its wooden slats. On shore, just within the fringe of the woods, stood a weathered, empty cabin, its single door and windows closed and shuttered. Easing the barge against the pilings, the Elves fastened the mooring lines and stepped off.
Crispin brought Wil and Amberle out from their cabin, carefully admonishing them to keep their hooded cloaks securely in place. Stretching gratefully, they joined him on the docking slip. The Rill Song splashed up at them, and they hastened ashore.
Dilph moved to the cabin, opened its door, peered momentarily about, and withdrew. He shook his head at Crispin. The Elf Captain frowned and glanced about guardedly.
«Is something wrong?» Wil asked.
Crispin looked away. «Just being cautious. The main post is half a mile inland, built into the trees at the top of a rise to permit an overview of the surrounding country. I thought that the Hunters stationed there would have seen us coming, but the weather might have prevented that.»
«What about this cabin?» the Valeman wanted to know.
«One of several watches the post keeps. Usually there is someone on duty.» He shrugged. «With the weather this bad, though, the commander of the post may have pulled in all one–man sentries. He was not told that we would be coming and had no reason to expect us.»
He glanced back at the forest. «Excuse me for a moment, please.»
He signaled the other Elves to join him, and they huddled quickly, their voices low and furtive.
Amberle stepped close to Wil. «Do you believe him?» she whispered.
«I’m not sure.»
«I am. I think something is wrong.»
The Valeman did not reply. Already the conference was ending. Katsin had moved back to the dock to stand close to the moored barge. Cormac and Ped had taken up positions at the edge of the forest. Crispin was talking now to Dilph, and Wil edged closer to hear what was being said.
«Take Rin and Kian and scout to the outpost.» The Elf Captain glanced over his shoulder at the Valeman. «If all is well, come back for us.»
Wil made a quick decision and stepped forward. «I’m going, too.»
Crispin frowned. «I don’t see any reason for that.»
Wil stood his ground. «I think I can give you, one. Protecting Amberle is my responsibility as well as yours; that is why Allanon sent me with her. Exercising that responsibility is a matter of judgment, Captain, and in this instance I think I should scout ahead with Dilph.»
Crispin thought it over for a moment, then nodded. «As long as you do exactly as Dilph tells you.»
Wil turned back to Amberle. «Will you be all right?»
She nodded, then watched wordlessly as he followed the Elven Hunters into, the darkness of the trees and disappeared from view.
Like ghosts, the four slipped through the sodden curtain of the woods, their steps soundless. Mist trailed about them in streamers thick with dampness, and rain fell softly. Rows of dark trunks and masses of scrub and thicket passed away as the forest wound on over steep rises and ridge lines. The minutes slipped by, and Wil Ohmsford felt himself grow increasingly uneasy.
Then Kian and Rin split off to either side, disappearing into the trees, and Wil found himself alone with Dilph. An empty clearing appeared suddenly from out of the gloom, and Dilph dropped to a crouch, motioning Wil down behind him. The Elf pointed upward into the trees.
«There,” he whispered.
High in the interwoven branches of two great oaks sat the Elven outpost. Rain and mist shrouded the buildings and their connecting passageways. Neither, oil lamp nor torchlight burned from within. Nothing moved. Nothing sounded. It was as if the post were deserted.
But that should not be.
Dilph eased forward slightly, peering left through the gloom until he caught sight of Rin, then, right until he found Kian. Both knelt within the cover of the trees some thirty yards to either side, watching the silent post. Dilph whistled softly to catch their attention. When he had it, he signaled for Kian to go in for a closer look. Rin he sent left to scoot the perimeter of the clearing.
Wil watched Kian sprint to the base of the oaks which supported the post, find the concealed footings in one massive trunk, and begin to climb. Then, with Dilph leading, Wil started right, staying just within the fringe of the clearing, eyes searching the forest for some sign of the missing Elves. The woodland was sodden and murky, and it was difficult to see much of anything through the tangle of scrub.
The Valeman glanced back to the post. Kian had almost reached the lowest building, a small command but set just below the main living quarters. Rin was nowhere to be seen. Wil was still looking for the Elf when he took a step forward and tripped, sprawling face down across the broken, lifeless body of an Elven Hunter. He sprang back to his feet in horror, eyes sweeping the gloom about him. To his left lay two more bodies, limbs twisted, bones shattered and crushed.
«Dilph!» he whispered harshly.
At once the Elf was beside him. Pausing only an instant to survey the grisly scene, Dilph stepped to the edge of the clearing and whistled sharply Rin appeared from out of the forest, a startled look on his face. At the rail of the platform surrounding the command hut, Kian looked down. Frantically, Dilph motioned them back.
But almost immediately, Kian disappeared. Something seemed to reach out and snatch him from view, so
