Nineteen
The gathering at Greenglade Tower was far from cor shy;dial. Danilo soon realized that Elaith's assessment of Waterdeep's elves had been distressingly on the mark. Some of these elves had recently been evicted from the tower and were none too happy to learn that Elaith had given that order.
Nor were they willing to follow him. The mother of the elf who was slain at Belinda Gundwynd's side angrily demanded to know if Elaith had anything to do with her son's death. 'Tell me, my lord,' she said with bitter mockery, 'was this part of your vendetta against the noble clans?'
Before he could speak, Arilyn stepped forward. She placed a hand on her moonblade. 'All of you know what this is. You know it cannot shed innocent blood, and that it can never be used to harm the People. If the task Elaith Craulnober asks of us is a right and true path, if the elf himself is worthy of our loyalty, the sword will honor him. If he falls, you will follow me. Will you accept that?'
There were many doubtful faces, but a murmur ran through the crowd as a tall male stepped forward from the small knot of forest elves. Danilo knew at once who the elf was. Arilyn had spoken of her friend Foxfire as a warleader. This elf moved with the fluid grace of a war shy;rior. Dan had seen leaders before who possessed that quiet, indefinable strength that flowed like an aura, who inspired confidence in those around them. Never had he seen one who possessed this quality in such ample measure. If that were not proof enough, there was the elven naming custom in which given names were taken from an elf's skills or appearance. Foxfire was aptly named, for his long russet hair had the gloss and color of a red fox's pelt. Danilo noticed as objectively as possible that the elf was possibly the most strikingly handsome male of any race he had ever beheld.
Foxfire took a band from his arm and tossed it at the moon elf's feet. It was a ritual Dan had read of-no doubt the band carried the insignia of Foxfire's position as warleader.
'I will honor the moonblade's decision, and my people with me,' he said in musical, deeply accented Elvish. The forest elves rose and came to stand behind him. Of course, they could not know that the moonblade's magic had been unreliable, even contradictory.
At that moment Danilo understood what Arilyn was doing. Fear rose in him like a tide. As if she sensed this, she turned and met his eyes. Gone was any hint of reserve. Her heart was in her eyes, and Danilo had no doubt that it was his. Nor did he doubt that this last, supremely honest gaze might well be her silent farewell.
Arilyn spun away and turned to Elaith. She drew her sword, raised it in challenge.
White-faced, the elf drew his weapon and mirrored her salute. There was no fear on his face, though he clearly expected to die. Danilo suspected that he wished for death. The answer Elaith sought from the Mhaor shy;kiira had never come, but death by moonblade's decree would lay to rest the question that had haunted his soul. Danilo marveled at the unlike pair, the incredible courage of both elves.
Arilyn raised her sword for a powerful two-handed blow and brought it whistling down. She never got close.
A terrible flash lit the room. For a moment, Dan's horrified gaze perceived the outline of skull beneath Arilyn's face, the bones in her arms. Then the vision was gone, and the half-elf lay on the floor. Her hands were blackened. Her eyes were open and staring, but she was utterly still.
Before Danilo could move, Elaith threw aside his sword and dropped to his knees. He balled one fist and pounded on the half-elf's chest. He struck again, and then again. Instinctively Danilo moved to stop him, but Foxfire caught him and held him back.
'He does right,' the warleader said softly.
Danilo realized the truth in it. He nodded to show that he understood, then put aside the elf's restraining hands and went to kneel beside his love and his elven friend. For several moments he could do nothing but watch as Elaith continued his brutal ministrations.
Arilyn suddenly drew breath in a sharp gasp. Her eyes shut as she struggled against the pain of her burns. When she had mastered herself, she opened her eyes and regarded the somber, watching elves.
'You have your sign,' she said in a faint, ragged voice. 'Do as the elf lord bids you.'
A forest elf came forward, a small female, brown as a wren. 'Go with the others,' she told Danilo brusquely. 'I am a shaman and will heal her.' She looked to Foxfire to help her move the wounded half-elf. The warleader shook his head and nodded to Dan.
Danilo carefully eased Arilyn into his arms and fol shy;lowed the shaman out of the room. 'You expected that to happen,' he said softly.
She nodded once, with great effort, and turned to Elaith. The moon elf followed at Dan's side, his eyes intent on Arilyn. His inscrutable calm was gone, shat shy;tered by the sacrifice his 'princess' had made for the elven folk, the family of her human love, and for
'You did not get the Mhaorkiira, but you have your answer,' she said. 'Are you content?'
An expression of wonder suffused the elf's face. 'All these years,' he marveled. 'The things that I have done. I am beyond regret-beyond redemption, or so I thought.'
'Sometimes the difference between a rogue and a hero,' she said carefully, 'comes down to who is telling the tale. Ask these elves who I am. They will speak of the moonblade. Ask humans, they will say assassin. It could be the same for you.'
'You're talking too much,' scolded the shaman.
Arilyn's eyes drifted shut. 'Needed to be said.'
Danilo left her with the fierce little elf woman and returned to the main hall. Since Elaith did not seem to want to discuss what had just happened, he left that conversation for later and sought out Foxfire.
'That was a noble gesture,' he said. 'A rare kindness to offer a stranger.'
The forest elf gave him an enigmatic smile. 'I have seen you before, once, in a battlefield near my forest. Arilyn called all the elfshadows from her sword. Yours was among them.'
'No longer. That bond is broken.'
'Changed,' Foxfire corrected. 'Never broken. She has need of you.'
This surprised Danilo. 'How so?'
'Arilyn is courage. Never have I seen an elf who em shy;bodied courage so completely. However, she is half-elven, and so there are some qualities she lacks. Music and light laughter-these are as important to the elven soul as starlight. These she finds in you. See that you give them to her, and I will always name you a friend.'
There was truth in these words, and also the answer Danilo had long sought. He raised one hand in the elven pledge. Foxfire laughed and extended his hand for the salute that human comrades exchanged. They clasped wrists, then joined the others in preparation for the battle to come.
Twenty
Arilyn and the forest elves took to the rooftops. It felt odd, but amazingly right, to be back in the familiar com shy;pany of her friends. The band took to the new challenge with ease, making their way across the uneven line of roofs as surefooted as squirrels.
They crept up to the Thann villa and circled the place where the tren attacks were to come: the garden shed with the false door that led into the tunnels. They got this in their sights and waited.
The night was dark, with a slim, fading moon and a thick mist. When the tren emerged from the shed, they blended into the shadows. Even to Arilyn's heat-sensitive eyes, they were little more than a cool blur.
'No one but elves would have seen them,' the half-elf mused as she fitted her first arrow to her bow. 'Oth wasn't expecting this.'
At her side, Foxfire nodded and raised his bow. On his signal, all six elves fired.
The arrows dove in like silent, deadly falcons. A faint, rumbling cry drifted up to them, a sound that was abruptly and wetly silenced.
'We got at least one,' Arilyn said.
