steps behind. The weak moonlight didn't illuminate this side of the ridge at all. Aeron's night vision was keen, but he needed some light to see. He lurched and stumbled as the slope steepened under his feet.

Aeron tried to arrest his descent, but suddenly there was empty air under him. He yelped in surprise and fell, tumbling through darkness, branches and briars stinging him like whips as he plummeted down the hillside. He fetched up hard against smooth, dressed stone. The impact knocked the wind out of him. A moment later, Eriale fell heavily nearby, gasping in pain. After the clatter and rush of the fall, the sudden silence was disorienting; it took Aeron a moment to gather his senses.

Eriale sat up, a little more fortunate in her landing. 'Aeron? Are you here? Where are we?'

Aeron raised himself on one elbow, rubbing at a badly barked shinbone. 'I'm here, Eriale.' As to where they were … he looked around, trying to make out their surroundings. Gradually he realized it wasn't completely dark. A shimmering faerie-light hovered in the air, casting an argent gleam over the place. They were in the ruins of a stone building, overgrown with green vines. The glossy marble was veined with dark moss and strands of silver. The stones seemed unusual somehow. As he peered closer, he saw they were delicately scalloped with a fine tracery suggesting living trees and animals, a bas-relief of the forest. 'I think we're in an old elf tower,' he said in a hushed voice.

'I didn't think there were any so close to Maerchlin.' Eriale traced the old lines in the stone. 'It's beautiful.'

Faint and subtle, the old stones gleamed like soft silver in the moonlight. Despite the clamor of the approaching hunters, Aeron reached out to stroke the cool and perfect stone. Foxfire danced on his fingertips; he could almost hear the faraway cry of elfin horns in the forest, inhale the scents and sounds of vanished starlight. 'Who were they?' he wondered aloud. 'Where are they now?'

Eriale could not reply. Her eyes wide and dark, she stood rooted to the spot. With a soft gasp, Aeron realized that he'd been holding his breath, afraid to break the faerie dream around him.

Dogs howled and bayed on the hillcrest above them. Slowly Aeron rolled to his knees, then pushed himself to his feet. 'They're still on our trail. Keep moving.'

Eriale nodded and drew back from the stone wall. She turned to pick up her pack, then halted. 'Aeron, wait.'

'What? What is it?' He glanced over, alarmed by the strange tone in her voice. In a jumbled gap in the opposite wall stood a white wolfhound, an ethereal shadow of gray and pearl with dark, intelligent eyes. It watched them without moving. Eriale slowly backed away as Aeron straightened, facing the apparition.

'What do we do?' she whispered.

Aeron started to reply, but he noticed the spectral illumination was growing brighter. The entire place was glowing with pearly light. He blinked as a tiny mote of coruscating radiance danced and darted a handspan in front of his nose. The sphere retreated in the blink of an eye, hovering beside the white hound, and then it began to grow, expanding and dimming until it had the outline of a man-shaped white radiance.

The light brightened one last time, and then flashed silently, revealing a tall, thin man with fair skin and long silver hair. He was dressed in pearl gray hose, over which he wore a soft white doublet embroidered with silver designs. His face was long and expressive, with a sad wisdom hidden in his perfect features. He reached down to stroke the white hound's head. 'Cuillen de fhoiren, Baillegh,' he said softly, in a voice like liquid music.

'Aeron, he's an elf lord,' Eriale whispered. 'We've trespassed in his house.'

Aeron glanced at her, then back to the tall elf. 'Who are you? What is this place?'

The elf gazed into Aeron's face with a hint of a smile. He started to speak, grimaced, and then tried again. 'I am called Fineghal Caillaen, though some know me as the Storm Walker. I have been waiting for you, Aeron Morieth,' he said. An odd inflection weighted his speech, as if he hadn't spoken a human language in a very long time. 'Who is your companion?

'This is Eriale, daughter of Kestrel the forester,' Aeron replied. A moment later, he realized the import of the elf lord's words. 'Waiting for me? How do you know me?'

'The Morieths are known to us of old,' the elf answered, ignoring the rest of Aeron's question. 'Why do they hunt you? You seem too young to be an outlaw.'

'I wounded two noblemen. I'm just a commoner. It's death to take up arms against a lord.' Aeron had the uncanny feeling the elf prince could read the truth of his words, seeing the events he alluded to. The baying of the hounds grew louder, and he could hear men cursing and calling out as they came nearer. 'Damn, they're almost on us,' he hissed. 'Come on, Eriale. We have to flee!'

The silver prince raised his hand. 'None will find us here if I do not wish to be found.' He looked at Eriale, and back to Aeron. 'You and your friend may shelter here tonight under my protection. I will see to it that no harm befalls you.'

Aeron turned to look up the hillside. Red-faced soldiers in Raedel's colors picked their way down the slope, dragged on by hounds that strained at their leashes. He quailed in fear as he realized the soldiers must be close enough to spot them, but the eerie silver radiance seemed to attract not the slightest notice. 'Why don't they see us?' he asked.

'An enchantment on this place,' Fineghal replied. 'I'd better help the hounds along, though. They're not so easy to fool as men.' He lifted his hand and muttered a liquid phrase under his breath. Silver motes danced around his hand. Aeron was acutely conscious of a thrumming in his heart, a prickling sensation that tickled the center of his chest. He realized he had sensed Fineghal's magic at work. When the feeling faded, he had a sudden and fierce wish to bring it back.

Outside the moss-grown walls, the hounds bayed louder and surged ahead, sweeping past the ruins of the elven tower and crashing off to the north. In a matter of moments, they had vanished into the silver night. More than a dozen men had almost walked right through them without even glancing in their direction. Aeron breathed a heavy sigh of relief as they disappeared. 'Will they be back?' he asked aloud.

'Not tonight, they won't,' Fineghal replied. He returned his attention to Aeron and Eriale. 'I seem to recall that humans require sleep,' he said. 'Rest now. In the morning we can decide what must be done.' He gestured with one hand and whispered softly in the elven tongue. Despite his resistance, Aeron found his eyes growing unbearably heavy. Beside him, Eriale sank slowly to the stone, laying her head on her pack. He didn't remember reaching the ground.

Two

The warmth of a golden sunbeam against his face woke Aeron in the early hours of the morning. He opened his eyes. Cold stone lay beneath him, and above him the green branches of the forest wove a tangled skein of light and shadow. For a moment, he was completely disoriented, but then the events of the previous night returned to him. The ruins of the elf tower seemed unremarkable by daylight. The silver tracery and elfin aura were gone, and the stones were simply mossy old stones again.

He pushed himself to his feet, stretching. Eriale stirred close by, raising her head and blinking at him. 'Aeron? Where are-Oh, I remember.' She sat up, clasping her arms and shivering. 'Was it all a dream?'

'I don't think so,' Aeron said. There was no sign of the hunters, and all he could hear were the normal small sounds of the forest-birdcalls sweet and high, the gentle sighing of the upper branches in the breeze, rustling and motion all around him as the forest began to wake. The ruins faced the sunrise, sheltered against the green hillside like a jewel in the hand of a gentle giant. He felt surprisingly well rested, considering the fact that he'd slept on a hard stone floor. 'Do you think Fineghal's nearby?'

'The elf prince? I don't see him, or his hound.' Eriale stood and looked around. 'What do we do now, Aeron? Do we wait for him, or do we move on?'

'I'm not sure where I'd go even if we left now. Raedel's men might have missed us last night, but they won't give up so quickly.'

Eriale nodded. 'I hope Father's all right. The constable wouldn't have been happy to find us missing.'

'I'm sure he's fine,' Aeron said confidently. Inwardly, he was very concerned for Kestrel, but it would do no good to share that with Eriale. With a sigh, he reached down and shouldered his pack. In the warm light of the morning sun, the astounding encounter of the night before seemed nothing more than a dream. Aeron wanted to

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