“I’ve known her a century and a half, and I have never had such a conversation with her,” Lofotan grumbled. Mathi shrugged. It was only because she had information about Balif that Amaranthe wanted to know, she said.
“I’ve set Rufe on his trail. He’ll find him.”
Now Lofotan shrugged. Artyrith had hundreds of trained trackers combing the forest for Balif. How could one erratic wanderer do what three hundred Silvanesti could not? Hearing the question, Mathi laughed. There was nothing beyond kender, she declared, and among kender, anything was possible with Rufe.
Faint white light flashed over them. Mathi saw her hands briefly emerge from the night, then fade back again. She looked up, but the sky was clear of stormclouds.
A shooting star streaked from east to west over the trees. Then another. And another.
“Look, captain! Falling stars!”
The meteors whizzed overhead, making sizzling sounds. Denizens of the lowland woods quieted under the aerial display. Frogs fell silent. Even crickets ceased to sing.
A cry went up from the kender downslope. Mathi and Lofotan stood up and saw sheets of light forming in the sky. It was hard to describe exactly. The light formed long curtains of glowing color in the air. The upper edges were bluish white, but the color deepened, becoming dark red at the ragged bottom edges.
“What is it?”
“Aurora,” said Lofotan. He’d seen many things in his long life. “The air itself has taken on light.”
Aurora high in the sky was natural enough, but when the sheets of color began to descend to the trees, everyone knew it was no natural phenomenon. Even stranger, as Mathi looked on the glow infused Lofotan. His hands, feet, and face started to shine with a pale, cool light. He stood back from Mathi, holding out his hands. His skin was shimmering.
The kender abandoned their shanties and fled into the woods. Streams of cool blue or angry red light drifted like smoke among the trees. Alone on the bluff, Mathi and Lofotan tried to fathom what was happening.
“I am glowing, but you are not,” Lofotan observed. “What does that mean?”
Mathi had figured out what was going on. Lofotan was alight because he was an elf. Though she looked like an elf on the outside, Mathi did not glow. She didn’t dare explain her deduction to the captain. But why were elves glowing, and who was responsible?
It came to her in a flash: Amaranthe, or Artyrith. They were searching for Balif. Both had magicians of skill at their beck and call. To find a feather in a field of wheat, make the feather stand out. Someone had created that strange aurora to highlight elves-including Balif.
“How does it feel?” Mathi asked, hoping Lofotan would not reach the same conclusion she had.
“I feel nothing unusual.” He waved his hand hard, as if to shake the light loose from his skin. “Damned strange sight, though.”
“I’d better find the Longwalker,” Mathi said, sidling away.
“Why?” Lofotan asked irritably. The wanderfolk weren’t glowing, and they certainly couldn’t cast such a powerful spell.
“I want to reassure him. He needs to keep his people here if his claim to the land is to stand up.” It was true enough, but what Mathi wanted foremost was to look for Balif. She went swiftly down the hill in the dark, skirting curtains of light that drifted soundlessly out of the woods. By the time she reached the bottom of the hill she was running. Once out of Lofotan’s sight she halted to catch her breath. Fragments of aurora moved among the trees, but the steady moonglow of elf skin was nowhere to be seen. It felt futile, but Mathi had to try to find the general. She had one advantage over the legions of elves looking for Balif. The general might be willing to be found by her.
She decided to put her theory to the test. She called Balif’s name in the dark forest, at first repeating it over and over. It accomplished nothing. Balif could be miles away by now, or he might be unconscious. In his current state of transformation, how well could the general handle his injuries? Mathi had no way to know.
She zigzagged through the trees. Tired of calling, she sat down on a fallen tree. It was very humid in the lowland green. Sweat dripped from her brow.
One last time she cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, “Amaranthe! Amaranthe wants you! Answer me, general! Amaranthe!
A low growl rose from the darkness behind the broken tree. Mathi leaped up, groping clumsily for her sword. All her pointless shouting had accomplished nothing but arousing a wild bear. Or was it a bear?
“My lord, is that you?”
She heard heavy panting close by, but could not detect the source. Then a heap of dry leaves heaved up from under the fallen log. Two pin-points of light gleamed, pale white like the face of Solinari. It took Mathi a moment to realize what she was seeing. Balif in his beast form was no longer an elf, but his eyes were glowing with the telltale aura.
Mathi’s heart hammered in her chest. It was too dark for her to make out any details of the creature standing before him. The beast was bigger than before. Standing, it towered over Mathi.
“My lord,” she said carefully, focusing on the twin points of light hovering above her, “the lady Amaranthe has sent me to find you.”
The lights weaved slightly from side to side. Mathi went on.
“She is near! Her ship lies at anchor in the bay.”
The black silhouette abruptly turned away. Apparently Balif did not want to see his lover-or did not want his lover to see him in his current state.
“Wait, my lord! You know the lady is powerful, and has great mages in her employ. The colors you see in the air are a spell she had cast to find you.” She hoped it was Amaranthe, and not Artyrith. “Go to her. There may be something she can do for you-”
The creature charged so suddenly that Mathi could do nothing to dodge. It scooped her up and crushed her close. The smell of beast was strong. Mathi was helpless, her arms pinned to her side, and her feet dangling in the air.
A wet black nose came close to his ear. The beast huffed and sniffed, then leaped over the tree and began to run. It was an awkward, jolting pace, using only three limbs, but the creature still hurtled through the undergrowth. Here and there it bored through a floating patch of aurora, which instantly dissipated with a faint crackling sound. Mathi wanted to yell, but she reckoned if the beast had wanted to harm her it would have done so already. So she held on tight as it ran.
“Do you understand me, my lord?” she whispered, clinging tightly to his furred torso. “I am like you. I know the call of blood you’re hearing.”
He halted in a flurry of churned-up leaves and snapping branches. Fiery pinpoint eyes bored into hers.
“Go to the princess,” Mathi said. “And if she cannot save you, despair not. There is another way.”
She felt the hot breath of the beast on her face. He was weighing her words. Without warning his musing ended, and he sprang through the undergrowth with renewed vigor.
CHAPTER 21
Mathi’s headlong ride through the woods lasted right down to the shore of the bay. Faced with a wide expanse of dark water, Balif dug in his claws and skidded to a stop on the wet clay beach. The bay was dotted with lanterns bobbing on the masts and prows of the elf fleet.
“The biggest one is Amaranthe’s.”
Mathi could feel the beast’s heart thudding hard deep inside its chest. It slowly opened its arm, dropping the girl at the water’s edge. Balif took a tentative step into the water, as if he were unhappy about getting wet.
“Don’t leave me,” Mathi said, rising on numb legs. “I can speak for you. Take me with you.”
The beast looked over its high, muscled shoulders and gave its leonine head a sideways twitch. Mathi recognized the gesture. She climbed onto the beast’s back. There was nothing to hold onto but fur. Mathi grabbed
