Elwenquest
                        Prologue
            876, Age of the Swan, Early Summer
   "Ker-Keren...."
    A flash of intolerable grief and empty pain.
    The cessation of breath.
    The soft trickle of blood.
    "Farewell, my friend."
    Ugly laughter and a distant, pained cry.
    Grief shaking my body.
    "NO!" I screamed, throwing my arms out to ward off the 
sorrow. I screamed so loudly and gesticulated so violently 
that I woke myself up.
    For a long moment I lay shivering on my wolf-fur 
blanket soaked by summer dew. Agony alternately scorched 
and chilled my body from the inside, following my dream- 
the same dream I always had.
    The dream I always would have.
    "Keren?" The low, dark, melodic voice startled me. I'd 
been so caught up in the aftermath of my nightmare that I 
hadn't heard my friend's nearly silent approach, or 
smelled him. Now he stood over me, dark, diamond-shaped 
eyes lighted with concern. "Are you all right?" he asked.
    I sucked in a breath, and nodded, beginning to feel 
the grief slide away- as it always did. "Fine, Echelli." I 
dragged myself to a sitting position against a nearby 
hylea tree, wiping sea-blue dew from my green tunic, and 
running my fingers through my tangled silver hair. I 
smiled up at the part-curalli, dropping my hand from my 
face. "Just a bad dream."
    Echelli Durillo, his form glowing clearly in the 
darkness to my nightsight, leaned against an oak, drawing 
his sable cloak close about him, more for comfort than for 
warmth. Our Elwenish cold tolerance kept us heated enough. 
"I would say it was a bad one," he sang in Aril, the 
musical language of our people. "I could hear you on the 
other side of camp." His eyebrows rose, a look of sympathy 
coming over his silver-skinned face. "Same one as always?"
    I laughed humorlessly. "What other one is there?" I 
started to lie back down, but hesitated. I knew as soon as 
I tried to close my eyes that there would be no more sleep 
for me this night. "Echelli, why don't I keep watch for a 
while?"
    Now it was the curalli who hesitated. With his 
exceptional nightsight, his ability to move almost wholly 
invisible within the shadows, and his near-blindness by 
day, he was the usual night watchman. But my magically 
enhanced eyes were almost as good as his, and I would be 
able to give ample warning of any danger.
    Besides, he knew as well as I did that if I slept 
again I would only be tugged back to awareness screaming.
    "Fine," he said, deciding abruptly. "I could use some 
rest. Wake me later." He touched my shoulder in silent 
support, then glided toward his bedroll without a whisper 
of sound.
    I rose, pulling my forest-green cloak tightly around 
my shoulders and scooping my bow and quiver of arrows from 
the crook of the hylea where I'd placed them. Then I began 
to walk slowly toward the other end of the large, 
tree-studded grove.
    On the way I passed Baypirror, my other traveling 
companion. The black unicorn lay curled on the ground with 
his long legs folded beneath him, his crystal horn resting 
on the thick green grass. He seemed oblivious of anything 
except his slumber, his snores rattling the air.
    I paused to silently admire, as always, the coat like   
fluid onyx over the lithely interplaying smooth muscles. 
Bay was perfection in every detail, from his delicate, 
transparent hooves to his wiry, curly beard. He was my 
oldest friend, and among my truest.
    Thinking about old friends brought my mind back to my 
dream. I bowed my head to wipe away a tear.
    For almost nine hundred years, I had had nightmares 
about the death of one of my friends.
    Never will I forget the day Cuthri Rabbitsong was 
murdered by my foster brother, Sodiest.
    I tumbled out of the trance of my memories to notice 
something. My lips curled in a sad smile. It wouldn't be a 
long time- as Elwens reckon it- before Bay passed on. It 
would be to something far more natural than a knife in 
your temple, of course, but this didn't change the fact 
that he would die.
    Old age.
    Two thousand years had passed since my birth, and yet 
I was in my prime, just barely adult, coming into the 
first flush of my speed and strength, actually. Bay, nine 
years younger than I, had passed middle age for a unicorn- 
the graying in his beard, the arthritic trembling of his 
joints, were symptoms of it. Unicorns lived three thousand 
years. An Elwen's lifespan stretched for more than three 
times that.
    The thought that I would lose my friend while I was 
still young did not sit well with me that night.
    A twig crackled on the other side of camp.
    My left hand spun to my sword, drawing it out as fast 
as I possibly could. At the same moment, my right palm 
tugged at the golden sheath that housed my dagger, and the 
silver blade seemed to leap eagerly into my grasp. I 
summoned a few curls of uncertainty, getting ready to turn 
them into an emotional assault if it proved to be a 
threat.
    But then I relaxed, sheathing my weapons and 
dismissing the emotion, as my nightsight and my nose told 
me of a doe leaping, frightened, away. She was no danger!
    Still, it reminded me that I was supposed to be on 
watch. I crouched low, tensing my legs, then leapt into a 
nearby oak, landing on all fours on a heavy bough. With 
another spring, swift and easy as possible, I was 
wriggling through the slender blossoming branches of a 
hylea. I found a crook where I could see the whole grove 
and the surrounding forest, as well as the drop of a steep 
hill toward tended farmlands in the north.
    Those farmlands were our destination, for they marked 
the surface part of the human city of Sarn. The Shaded 
Forest, where we were camping, surrounded the fields and 
livestock pens of the humans. The real habitations were 
underground in an enormous cavern. There we were going to 
gather supplies and catch up on the latest news, as well 
as do some sight-seeing. The town was supposed to be 
wondrous...
    I stifled a sigh. Many places on Arcadia were 
wonderful or beautiful. They would have had a steady 
influx of visitors if not for one thing they lacked: 
tolerance.
    Racial prejudice was heavy in Arcadia. Hostility 
toward intelligent animals like unicorns had continued 
despite the ending of slavery. There was still malice 
between Elwens and humans, dating from a certain war they 
fought two ages ago- a war that just happened to last 
three and a half centuries, and left millions dead. (Sarn 
was the exception to this, which was why we could go into 
it). The unicorns in Cytheria had gotten a little carried 
away with their creed of superiority and incited attacks 
on Elwen cities that had never done them any harm. Ramasa, 
the giant northern province, was the scene for bitter 
battles between the curalli and the viaquia, or sunset 
Elwens. And tensions mounted every year. It was an 
accepted fact that the continent would erupt into 
full-length war soon...
    By the Four Moons, how did I get distracted by these 
thoughts? I was supposed to be on the lookout for danger! 
I settled my body more firmly on my belly and gave myself 
a ringing smack with one hand. I decided I would watch the 
rest of the night as punishment.
    But that was not to be.
    A stinging pain sharper than any blow I could have 
given myself struck me in the back of the neck. I bit on 
my lips to suppress a yelp of hurt, and pretended to fall 
limp, wanting my attacker to think me helpless.
    But, surprisingly, no tug on my feet or my weapons or 
moneypouch came next. A spurt of agony flourished at the 
base of my skull, and this time I knew it was no physical 
strike.
    I sat up, wanting to jump from the tree, with the wild 
idea that I could somehow outrun the pain. But no creature 
is fleet enough to outrun the stirrings of a psychic 
curse.
    The next anguish hurled me from the hylea, so that I 
landed face-down in mud and grass. I struggled, but I was 
no match for the strength of my wayward precognition.
    "Darn you, curse!" I spat. I have no control over my 
ability to see the future. I could only lie passive, 
though my blood boiled, as the vision took me completely.
----------------------------------------------------------
    Blood oozed over my hands- my own, silver blood. I 
could only look up, weak-eyed and panting, for every time 
I tried to shift my weight, white-hot fire raced up my 
back. I'd had it before- I recognized the pain of a broken 
spine.
    Above me stood a human woman, one of the few I'd ever 
seen. Her short, curly hair flamed like the fires 
exploding over the battlefield, her coral-pink lips curled 
up in a sweetly triumphant smile. Doe-shaped, 
emerald-green eyes shone like jewels as she turned her 
beautiful face toward what she held under her arm. 
Whimpering with pain, I followed her gaze.
    Shattered golden shards that looked as if they might 
have been a statue.
    "Sorry, Keren," the woman said, her chin up and green 
eyes flashing. "It ends here." Sun winked off her golden 
armor, nearly blinding me, as she bent and lightly kissed 
my cheek. Then she pulled a copper sword from her waist 
and swept it, cleanly twinkling, toward my throat.
    I closed my eyes, knowing only the cessation of life.
----------------------------------------------------------
    A hand gripping my shoulder tightly awakened me.
    I coughed, spat out a mouthful of mud, and started to 
sit up. Immediately the hand pushed me back down.
    "Relax, Keren. You've lost a lot of blood." The voice 
was Echelli's, low but insistent- and worried.
    "Blood- what-?" This is ridiculous, I thought. I moved 
my hand to my chest, wincing in surprise and shock when I 
encountered a large hole. Blood pumped thickly from it.
    "By the Four Moons, how-?" I began again.
    "That's what we'd like to know, too." With his hooves 
singing like silver bells, a trail of black lilies 
following his every step, Baypirror cantered up. In his 
mouth, he carried healingbloom- purple-flowered plants 
that really do live up to their name. He placed them in 
Echelli's waiting hands, then continued. "What happened?"
    I winced as the healingbloom sap touched the wound, 
then sighed in relief as the pain began to ease. "I really 
don't know," I replied honestly. "I was keeping watch when 
that curse of mine took over-"
    Baypirror interrupted me with a snort. He still is a 
skeptic about my precognition- even though it had saved 
the korin town of Pyrite once by forewarning me that an 
attacking army was employing unexpected tactics, and had 
saved our lives in some battles since. I suspect he 
doesn't like things that are neither natural nor magical, 
and especially psychic curses that do exactly as they 
please. "Please, Keren, tell the truth."
    I shot him an offended glance. Sometimes I felt 
Baypirror could read my soul, and other times I felt he 
was totally ignorant of me. This was one of the latter. 
"Bay, I am telling the truth. I value honesty highly, you 
know that."
    Bay's response was a subdued look.
    "So, anyway-" Echelli prompted me with a wave of his 
hand.
    "Oh. Yes. I had a vision about-" Suddenly I paused. As 
happens sometimes with my second sight, the vision had 
vanished. I shook my head. "I can't remember." I gingerly 
touched the healing injury and my blood-bespattered 
clothes. "All I know is that it was about pain. And-" I 
hesitated.
   "Yes?" Echelli's dark eyes were narrowed on me, as if 
he knew what the answer would be. He probably did; Elwens 
can read other people's souls through eye contact.
    "I think the vision physically wounded me." I 
indicated the hole in my chest.
    Echelli sat back on his heels, pursing his ebony lips 
and letting a long whistle slowly escape. "I thought as 
much." He slipped an arm behind my shoulders, helping me 
to sit up. He tapped a hand to the healed injury 
thoughtfully. "This means your talent is dangerous."
    "Talent?" I snorted the word. I hated being able to 
see the future.
    Echelli did not laugh. "I have known people who would 
kill for such a talent," he said, pointedly stressing the 
word.
    "I'm sure you have, given your early life," remarked 
Baypirror. Sometimes he made remarks like that without 
realizing that Echelli would take offense.
    The curalli's hand twitched toward his belted dirks, 
but then he forcibly clenched his fist and moved it away 
from his weapons. Actually, the black unicorn was right; 
Echelli had grown up in Shadows, the permanently darkened 
city not far from my own hometown, Rowan. Since the 
curalli race was technically evil, my friend might well 
have met sophisticated assassins and other people whose 
lifestyles included killing. But still, Baypirror didn't 
have to talk about it.
    The unicorn didn't seem to realize what a close call 
he'd had. Echelli was a really sweet person, mostly 
because of his mixed blood (he was three-quarters curalli, 
one-quarter land Elwen). But he was an eager, matchless 
fighter, and he shared the shadowed Elwen stubbornness and 
quickness of temper. Quite often those silver-skinned arms 
had used blades to avenge an insult or threat.
    I laid a calming hand on my friend's sable-cloaked 
arm, then rose to my feet. "I'm fit to travel," I 
announced, picking up my dropped bow. I trotted quickly 
back to my blanket, rolled it up, and grabbed my rucksack. 
"Do you want to get on to Sarn?"
    "If you feel up to it," answered Echelli.
    I flushed. I hate other people wasting their time in 
worrying about my health. "Yes. And maybe, in Sarn," I 
added, "I can find someone who can lift this curse."
    Hopeful, we made for the human town as the sun rose.
                        Chapter 1
                      Impending Doom
    The sun had just barely climbed above the horizon when 
we reached the farm fields. The humans tending the crops 
cast us sidelong glances, but didn't bother us- though I 
saw a few clenched fists, and at least one pair of eyes 
widened at the sight of Echelli's silver skin.
    Oh, well. Even in a tolerant town, not everyone is 
accepting. I shrugged and continued loping. Behind me, 
Baypirror's steps filled the air with music and Echelli's 
slow, stumbling movements, quite unlike his usual 
nighttime grace, filled me with pity. After a few moments, 
I jogged back to him.
    "Are you all right?"
    "Yes." But I saw his hand go up beneath his lowered 
cowl to wipe tears and ichor from his streaming eyes. 
Curalli were not well suited to the daylight.
    "Liar," I replied, my Elwen gift for detecting 
deception springing into action. "Is there a spell you can 
cast that will help?"
    "I don't think so." His slender fingers clenched. 
Sweat dripped off them in long rivulets, soaking the soft 
dirt beneath. Now he was panting, as the sun's rays, 
arcing through the blue sky, heated him more and more.
    I put my arm around him to help him, guiding him 
around stones and tree roots that might have made him 
stumble. Sun-blinded, he finally fell to his knees with a 
whimper.
    "Echelli, you can't go on like this!" I crouched 
beside him. "Can you find some shade to rest in?" Then I 
lifted my head, calling, "Bay! Wait up!"
    The unicorn checked his trot and came swerving back, a 
guilty expression on his face. "Sorry, Ker, Eche. I guess 
I got a little carried away."
    "I'm coming with you into the city." Echelli's 
stubborn voice brought a smile to my face. He didn't like 
being fussed over any more than I did.
    "All right." I stood up, whipping my cloak more 
tightly over my shoulders, gulping down the rising fear I 
felt. "It's just a few more steps." I looked over at the 
enormous hole in the ground, and the lift resting beside 
it. "We'll be underground in a few minutes. Then it will 
be easier."
    The lift director looked up boredly as we came nearer. 
Immediately his eyes widened, and his hands dropped to his 
sides, involuntarily clenching into fists. I could see his 
mouth curl in a soft sneer of hatred.
    I felt for my moneypouch, drawing out the wirthas, the 
delicate gypsum coins that are the currency of Arcadia. At 
the same time, I threw back the hood of my cloak, shaking 
out my silver hair, fixing my black-gold eyes on the 
human's.
    Oh, no. I could see, by heart-reading him, that he 
hated Elwens with a passion. I stifled a sigh of 
annoyance. Just once I had hoped to enter a town without 
being accosted.
    The lift director threw the same look Echelli's way, 
but then smiled when he saw Baypirror. He apparently 
thought the unicorn was escorting us as prisoners or 
something. Humans always displayed an almost child-like 
wonder at the sight of the horned race. "Well met!" he 
cried, lifting a pudgy hand in salute. "I suppose you want 
entrance with him?" He jerked a thumb at me.
    Bay nodded, a friendly smile on his equine 
countenance. "Yes. Be assured that he won't cause any 
trouble." Even as he spoke, he cast a troubled glance my 
way. It was a good thing humans couldn't detect even white 
lies.
    My response was an apologetic smile, and a telepathic 
^Sorry. But you know how it usually goes.^
    My unicorn friend snapped his head in recognition, and 
stepped toward the iron cage of the lift. Echelli followed 
with a distrustful look the director's way. I started to 
follow him, but the operator shut the door.
    "Sorry, only two at a time." His smile was sweet 
sarcasm itself.
    I bit my lips- hard- to forestall my objection as a 
better idea entered my brain. I bowed to the lift master, 
even though I knew he was lying, then shrugged 
nonchalantly and jumped into the hole.
    I heard the gasps from the human and the unicorn above 
me, as well as Echelli's snicker. I looked up, waved a 
hand casually at their astonished faces, and then looked 
down.
    My old fear of heights- and of cities- assaulted me, 
but I battered it down in my awe at the sight below me.
    Sarn was a large city by human standards, housing 
close to a hundred thousand people. About half the city 
sprawled across the sandy floor of the great cavern, dimly 
lit but still bright. The roof of the cave was transparent 
crystal.
    The other half of the city was occupied by a large 
lake, crystal-clear waters lazily rocking in the 
glittering light that fell through the roof. Underneath 
the slight waves I could see a dome, built of pure silver, 
and I knew that was the underwater part of the town, about 
which I had heard but had never seen.
    In short, it was really amazing.
    By the time I took this in, I was almost on the sandy 
floor. I picked a soft spot to land- near where the lift 
would come down- and gave a slight twist to my body, as 
cats do. The impact with the sand still jarred my bones, 
but I landed upright, at least. I patted my sword and 
dagger, making sure they were still secure in their 
sheaths, and then drew my cloak about me and waited for my 
friends.
    Echelli and Bay were out of the cage by the time it 
touched the sand.
    "Great!" Echelli pounded me on the back. "Did you see 
the operator's face? That'll teach him to think of Elwens 
as vermin!"
    "Are you crazy?" Bay's whole body shook. The black 
unicorn's flanks heaved, his horn leveled, trembling, at 
my face. "You foolishly risked your life-"
    I scowled. Over the years I had heard this lecture 
from my unicorn friend at least a thousand times. He 
should know by now that he can't cow me like that.
    "Bay, I've been a forester for a millennium!" My 
protest seemed to fall on deaf ears. "I can take care of 
myself."
    "Not like that!" Baypirror swished his head, his 
ebony, smoke-soft mane falling on first one side of his 
neck, then another. "Do you need me to keep an eye on you 
every second?"
    I fought to keep a hold on my rising temper. I was not 
a child. "Bay, what does it matter to you?" The words 
jumped out before I really realized what I was saying. I 
instantly bit my lip and turned my head from the hurt in 
my friend's eyes.
    This was starting to remind me of the battles we'd had 
on my Wanderfree, the Elwen trial of adulthood. Bay's new 
beliefs- that unicorns were superior to any other race- 
constantly clashed with our friendship, which had 
developed in spite of prejudice. I don't like 
discrimination, and I told him so in no uncertain words. 
This, and my brute honesty, had given fuel to the fire for 
a while. Eventually, we'd mended our discord, but things 
had never really been the same between us.
    Was that about to start again?
    When Bay didn't say anything, I sighed. "Bay," I 
mumbled, still not looking at him, "I'm- sorry. I had no 
right to say those things. And I am touched by your 
concern. It's just-" I shook my head. Why did I have such 
trouble expressing my emotions? I usually didn't.
    I found a grim smile through my misery. Easy emotional 
expression had earned me exile.
    "As it should be." The black unicorn's mumble barely 
reached my lifted ears. Then he sighed. "I suppose we'd 
better find a supply station."
    Grateful that he'd let the subject drop, I turned to 
Echelli. "What do we need besides rope, meat-" my lips 
quirked at Bay's disgust at the latter word- 
"healingbloom, and nada?"
    Echelli closed his eyes, falling into himself. As if 
from a long way away, I heard his voice. "Extra clothes, 
bowls, Zarabane, milk." He blinked, coming back to the 
surface. "I think that's it."
    "All right." For the first time, I really glanced 
around the place we had landed in. It was a large, cleared 
space of soft sand. Around it opened several lanes, all 
leading into the main part of the city. Most of the 
houses- and other buildings, too, for that matter- glowed 
in the falling sunlight, for they were made of polished 
gray stone.
    By long habit, my eyes flickered around the cavern, 
searching for the prison. I finally located it on the 
shore of the lake, as far from the lift as possible and as 
close as possible to a place where the underwater 
inhabitants could help catch a fleeing prisoner. Gray 
stone walls rose two stories, shining with the easy 
coolness of a true jail. The numerous windows were 
crystal-barred.
    I examined it warily, until I was sure that it would 
be no trouble to escape from, if I did do something 
illegal. Then I relaxed, though my eyes lingered on the 
prison.
    Echelli noted the direction of my gaze and chuckled 
softly. "Not easy to break old habit, is it, my friend?" 
he sang.
    "No," I sang back. 
    "Please don't get arrested yet!" groaned Bay as he 
slipped down a twisting, turning lane that led south. 
    I swallowed a laugh and followed him.
    As it happened, my friend's plea didn't quite work 
out.
----------------------------------------------------------
    "Keren Deerfriend?" The man at the supply stall 
scratched one thick hand through a mop of greasy brown 
hair. "Now why does that name sound familiar?"
    I shrugged, but I felt my back tense. My reputation in 
most towns and villages was twofold- as an outlaw, and as 
a dragon-killer. I couldn't be sure if this fellow had a 
positive or negative impression of me.
    "Oh, yes!" He snapped his fingers, causing sweat to 
fly on my face. Unobtrusively, I lifted my arm and wiped 
it away- only to have my features drenched by a stream of 
spittle flying from his mouth with the excited words. "I 
was supposed to give these messages to you." He reached 
behind him, pulling out two thick, deerhide letters. He 
handed them to me, beaming. "Here you are."
    I peered at the seal on them. It was a leaping deer, 
beneath a rowan tree. I had never seen it before.
    "Well, open them, silly!" grumbled Echelli. He never 
can wait.
    I broke the seal on the slimmer note, opening it 
carefully. Assassins have stalked me before.
    But this message contained, simply, eight words, 
penned in gold:
              YOU AND I HAVE A SCORE TO SETTLE.
    I frowned. There were dozens of people I had offended. 
Any one could have sent this letter, for there was no 
signature.
    I broke open the second letter, the wax running over 
my fingers briefly before dissolving. This one had a 
substantially longer tale.
    Keren,
    I don't know about you, but I haven't forgiven.
    I never will.
    I have power now. I can scour the continent for you, 
if I wish. I don't think you can keep ahead of the hunters 
forever. No matter what you know about hiding in the 
forests.
    And you won't be hiding much longer.
    Not when you hear the news that I have received.
    Your heart will drive you out. You will have to search 
for it.
    I know you. You will search.
    And I will find you.
    Sincerely, (and, trust me, I am in dead earnest)
    There was a signature this time.
    I snarled in open hatred, folding up the letters and 
stuffing both of them into the pocket of my tunic. Barely 
remembering to shout, "Thank you!" to the supply man, I 
hurried toward the lift out of the cavern.
    A hand caught my arm. Echelli, stronger than I was, 
finally dragged me to a stop. "Keren, what's the matter? 
Who sent those letters?"
    "Somebody I hate," I replied, before realizing that 
I'd practically snapped. I mellowed my tone. "Sorry. It's 
just-" I tugged the notes from my tunic, showing them to 
my friend.
    "Ah," said Echelli, after staring at the name. He shot 
me a worried glance. "What do you suppose the news he was 
referring to was?"
    I opened my mouth, but Bay cantered up then and 
demanded to know what was going on. "What is the matter?"
    When I told him, he stamped his hoof, squealing with 
hatred.
    We all stood in silence for a very long time. My 
friends gazed at the letters. My own gaze was directed at 
the ceiling. I could feel my hands clenching and 
unclenching.
    All right, we have a score to settle, I thought, 
almost hoping I would touch my enemy's mind. But I will 
never submit to you!
    "Never," I whispered aloud, my eyes flashing.
    Abruptly, a scream erupted from the center of town. It 
was followed by many more, wail after anguished wail of 
despair riding the slight breeze that blew through the 
cavern.
    With glances at each other, we glided toward the 
square, Echelli and I moving as silently as smoke. Bay's 
hooves sang an anxious melody as he galloped.
    Meanwhile, the screaming continued.
----------------------------------------------------------
    We reached the plaza, a large, spacious area of bare 
stone, lined with shops and with a wooden platform circled 
by a thin wooden railing in the center. Right now it was 
filled almost to capacity by a multitude of humans and 
various other races, all desperately upset.
    I saw land Elwens, rheeth, nemlaes, or river Elwens, 
Corocoros, unicorns, uniels, and even a few Lafoxes and 
curalli, among the more numerous humans, keeping mostly to 
their own kind, but every now and then moving to talk to 
others. I sensed a common bond of fear and hopelessness 
that transcended the prejudice. Tears touched nearly every 
face, except those of the land Elwens, whose laws did not 
permit them to express emotion. But I saw tics twitching 
in the cheeks of my people, the faint glimmer of tears in 
shaded eyes, or shaking shoulders. Once, a melodic voice 
even moaned in denial.
    "What happened?" I asked a human passing nearby. My 
voice was subdued from the intense despair that could 
practically be tasted.
    "You mean you haven't heard?" The human, a tall man 
just coming into his thirties, I guessed, jerked to a 
stop. He had black hair and unusual, almost predatory, 
yellow eyes. At his side, a young girl with a short horn 
in the middle of her forehead and vaguely diamond-shaped 
eyes halted as well. "Our planet is in danger," the man 
continued. "I heard-" He broke off as a booming voice rang 
across the cavern.
    "Everyone! Your attention, please!"
    All eyes turned toward the speaker, a tall, 
dusky-skinned man in purple robes. His rugged features 
wore a cold look of realism, but even he couldn't prevent 
a hint of desperation from dancing across his face. "I am 
the Mayor of Sarn," he continued, "and I wanted to say 
that this disaster could have been prevented were it not 
for carelessness on the part of the land Elwens!"
    I felt the beginning of an angry spell creep over me. 
There came outraged mutters from the members of the crowd 
who were part of my race. Furious faces lifted toward the 
Mayor, who stood on the wooden platform.
    Quickly, the human backed down. He didn't want to 
anger the land Elwens, many of whom were probably from 
Rowan, the mightiest city in Arcadia. Over a million of my 
race called the vast city home. "I didn't mean 
carelessness," he corrected himself swiftly. "It wasn't 
anybody's fault- except the fault of the people who took 
it!"
    By now I was nearly dying of curiosity. Why wouldn't 
he get on with it?
    The Mayor blew a deep breath, then calmed. "That was 
my only announcement, since I assume everyone already 
knows what took place. Good day." He wheeled to start down 
from the platform.
    "Wait!" I called. Usually, I am unwilling to call 
attention to myself, but my inquisitiveness was eating me.
    "Yes?" The annoyed-looking man turned back again.
    "I just came in from the wilderness, and of course I 
don't pick up much news there. I just want to know what 
happened." I kept my voice as calm and steady as possible 
against the barrage of incredulous glances flying toward 
me.
    "I suppose you have a fair right to know," the Mayor 
conceded. He drew another breath. "The Enchanted Swan of 
Arcadia has been stolen."
    Shock hit me right in the midriff. I gasped, feeling 
tears of fear well up in my eyes.
    That Swan just happened to ensure the continuation of 
everything magical on the planet. If it were broken- and 
why else would someone take it, if not to break it?- the 
magical races would be snuffed out like so many candles.
    That included Echelli, Baypirror, and I.
    The Mayor's tone softened a bit. "I can see you really 
didn't know," he said. "Well, all we can do is make the 
best of it." With that, he leaped off the platform and was 
gone- presumably to move among the crowd and reassure 
people.
    I truly was stunned. Knowing you could die any moment 
is not a comfortable state to live in.
    The yellow-eyed human I'd been talking to when the 
announcement interrupted touched my arm, turning my eyes 
back to him. "You might be glad to know that the invaders 
didn't take it easily. Forty-five Elwens gave their lives 
protecting that statue."
    I smiled gratefully at him. Elwens do not give up our 
most treasured possessions- or our lives- easily.
    "From what I heard, there was blood everywhere, but 
the thieves must have taken their own dead away. The 
guards had been overcome with Elwensbane."
    "My thanks for the information," I responded. "If 
there's anything I can do for you, let me know."
    The yellow-eyed man smiled enigmatically, reaching 
down to affectionately hook an arm about the shoulders of 
the girl beside him. "I'm not one of the sect who think 
Elwens should be blamed for everything."
    I glanced at the girl, who I guessed was his daughter. 
By her horn, her mane-like hair, long, slender fingers, 
and other traits, she was probably half-uniel, half-human- 
and therefore had Elwen blood. She smiled at me.
    "Yeah, Dad thinks Elwens are great," agreed the girl. 
"So do I, for that matter. And so did my mother. And so 
does-"
    "Sandy, don't chatter so much!" the man said, his 
expression pained. He cast me an apologetic glance.
    I shook my head. "It's all right." It really was. I 
love children, even thought I can't have any.
    "Well, we're planning to leave town, so we have to 
return home." With a wave of his hand, he disappeared into 
the crowd, the high musical voice of his daughter carrying 
back to my ears for quite a few moments.
    I turned back to my friends. "Pleasant people," I 
remarked. "Every time I see humans like that, I think 
perhaps that the whole race is not hurtling towards 
destruction, after all."
    Echelli looked to have recovered a little from his 
surprise, but he still shook his head slowly, eyes wide 
and staring. "The Swan gone!" he whispered, clenching his 
fists. Then he fell silent, as if staring into the face of 
impending doom.
    Baypirror's reaction was even less subtle. The black 
unicorn stood with his head drooping, shivering. He seemed 
even older at the moment.
    We waited in silence amid the chattering crowd for a 
moment more, but my mind was anything but silent. Could 
this be the news those letters had referred to? If so, my 
enemy was right- I was already thinking about undertaking 
a quest for it.
    I wasn't sure how my friends would feel about that.
    Before I could ask them, a flurry of commotion ensued 
on the platform, and our eyes once more turned toward it. 
This time a fat man wearing the medal of a cleric mounted 
the steps. Licking his lips, as if trying to smooth away 
the rolls of fat that hung about his mouth, he unrolled a 
scroll he held and began to yell.
    "By orders of the Mayor of Sarn, all land Elwens are 
to be questioned before they leave the town. If resistance 
occurs, they will be imprisoned." You could tell by the 
smirk on the pudgy cleric's lips that this order pleased 
him.
    Welling outrage almost drove me forward. Glancing 
around at the other land Elwens I had noticed earlier, all 
I saw were emotionless faces. But I knew enough of my 
people to realize there would probably be a few dead 
humans by morning.
    And Rowan might "accidentally" drop the trade routes 
to Sarn.
    Then the cleric screamed out again, much as this great 
exertion hurt him. "Any Elwen still not cooperating will 
be enslaved until further notice." He glared at us sternly 
over the tumult of protests. "The other good races of 
Arcadia are in unanimous agreement on this. The Elwens 
enslaved the unicorns for millennium. Now it is their turn 
to pay."
    The angry hisses from my race made him lean forward. 
"We do have essence medallions! I pray," and his own voice 
sank to a hiss, "I pray Masksh we shall not have to use 
those!"
    Several Elwens gasped as though physically hit. As for 
me, I had to wrestle with my own fury- and terror.
    Essence medallions, glass medals which cost a great 
deal to craft and buy, are used for finding out an Elwen's 
essencename. This name, which defines an Elwen's very 
soul, can then be used to subdue his spirit and make him 
an absolute slave to the one who knows the name. The owner 
can make his slave do whatever he wants, and only death 
frees an Elwen of this type of servitude. Often the secret 
of a particular servant's name is passed through the 
family, so that he is never free again.
    That is the best way to torture an Elwen.
    Confident that he had cowed us, the cleric started 
down the steps.
    "And what if the essence medallions just happened to 
get broken?" a voice I didn't recognize as my own asked. 
There was so much fury in me that I could feel my face 
practically turning bestial.
    The cleric whirled to face me, eager drool edging his 
mouth. "You would want to try? You think that you could 
find where they are guarded?"
    "I don't know, but I happen to think that fat pigs 
like yourself ought not to insult Masksh by dressing up in 
fancy robes, hanging baubles around their necks, and 
pretending to be clerics!"




                        Chapter 2
                        Imprisoned
    I realize now that I made a horrible mistake by saying 
that.
    However, all I cared about at the time was expressing 
my honesty.
    The fat cleric stiffened, and then walked quietly 
towards me, footsteps thudding like an avalanche that 
promised a slow and painful death. The crowd made way for 
him like a nest of mice for a cat, and he halted in front 
of where I stood, head proudly up and arms crossed.
    "Well, well, well," purred the cleric. "Looks like we 
have an unbeliever here." He cast a glance over the silent 
crowd, who recoiled a bit. Seeming satisfied at this 
tribute to his power, he snapped his glare back at me. 
"What's your name, dog?"
    "My name is Keren Deerfriend, and I'm sorry, but I 
believe you're mistaking me for one of your kind," I 
replied. "I just bathed yesterday, whereas dogs- like 
yourself- usually don't."
    The cleric's chest heaved, then suddenly he stopped, 
smiling. "I have heard of you," he said, in so cordial a 
tone that my eyes narrowed. "And I have heard that you 
have power of a kind unknown in Arcadia until recently. 
Could you demonstrate it for us?"
    "What do you mean?" I backed a step, my hand 
instinctively going for my sword.
    Behind me, I heard Echelli hiss, "Careful, Keren!"
    "Just set that pot over there on fire." The cleric 
pointed a pudgy finger toward a bronze vessel standing 
beside the platform.
    It wasn't hard. Rage jumped inside me so violently, 
looking for an out, that I simply looked at the pot. A 
wisp of smoke rose from it, then a curl. A moment later, 
clean, silver flames took the jar.
    I cast a glance at the cleric. "What is so difficult-"
    I meant to say "about using your emotions." But I 
never got the chance.
    "Guards!" shrieked the cleric, voice like a banshee's 
wail. "This Elwen just involved himself in magic!"
    I hissed involuntarily. Involvement in magic is a high 
crime- a felony- in human society. And, of course, not 
understanding emotional power, the Sarn townsfolk would 
assume the flames came from magic.
    A wave of humans flowed toward me. I tensed my 
muscles, cursing myself for letting the human trick me, 
and jumped sixteen feet into the air. I crashed down in 
the middle of the disoriented crowd, scrambling to my feet 
and taking off at half of my top speed before the humans 
could even turn about. I heard two thumps behind me and 
knew that Echelli and Baypirror were joining me in my 
flight.
    "Keren!" groaned the unicorn as we tore to a corner of 
a building and leaned against it, panting heavily. "I 
asked you not to get arrested!"
    "You didn't say anything about being accused," I 
reminded him.
    Bay's mouth opened, then snapped shut, and he turned 
away. His shoulders shook, but I suspected his giggles 
were getting the better of him. I was right, and he knew 
it.
    Echelli abruptly pricked his ears. "Footsteps," he 
announced. We froze.
    Sure enough, practiced, stealthy feet brushed the 
stone streets as someone crept toward us.
    ^All right,^ I said telepathically. ^I'll run one way, 
you two run another. You make for the lift. They won't 
chase you- it's me they want. I'll rejoin you if I can. If 
not-^ I paused. ^It's been awfully nice spending some 
centuries together.^
    ^Crazy Elwen,^ came Echelli's answer. 
    ^As if we wouldn't come back for you,^ Bay added.
    ^NO!!!^ My mind-growl was so loud that Bay and Echelli 
staggered back. ^I won't have you getting into danger on 
account of me!^
    "Keren-" Echelli began aloud.
    I narrowed my eyes at him, dropping my mental barriers 
and letting  him heart-read the stubbornness in my soul. 
After just one look, I put the barriers back up, satisfied 
that he understood the futility of trying to stop me.
    A man burst around the corner, waving a machete and 
yelling at the top of his lungs. "Over here!"
    Echelli and Bay took off in one direction. I ran at 
the human, who instinctively took a step backwards. I 
jumped over him, turning a somersault in midair to avoid 
the dagger tossed at me by another closing human. When I 
hit the ground, I really took off.
    My first run might have been considered fast by a 
human, but I pushed myself up to top speed on this one. 
Flashing with the magical speed of my people, I ran at 
seventy miles an hour down the alley and around a bend.
    Surprised shouts from the humans echoed behind me as I 
raced down a large, open lane. Now more running footsteps 
joined the first two sets, until it sounded as if the 
whole town pursued me. Grimacing, I urged myself on, 
pulling speed from the unused, hidden reserves. I was 
confident I could outrun them....
    ....until the bell began to toll from the Temple of 
Masksh in the center of town, carrying the signal that 
means, "Prisoner escape!"
    Following that announcement, probably carried out by 
the fat cleric, yells came from all around me as more and 
more Sarnites took up the hunt. My endurance was slowing 
down when I turned a corner, and abruptly found I had 
reached the bank of the lake. Without hesitating, I dove.
    In a few strokes, I was under the surface, holding my 
breath. I swam deeper and deeper, floating for five 
minutes, then folding myself into a ball to drop like a 
stone. I wouldn't need air anytime soon- not for months, 
actually- and they could search all they wanted. They 
wouldn't find me.
    Suddenly, my confidence took another punch as I 
recognized the form of the silver dome that housed the 
underwater city only a few yards away. Drifting in 
korin-crafted air bubbles, some of its residents had 
already spotted me and were shouting and gesticulating.
    Wonderful.
    Turning, I paddled toward the surface, letting the 
flow of the water over my body reassure me that I was in 
fact moving. Fear surged through my body, an adrenaline 
rush screaming at me to swim faster. But already a doomed 
certainty had entered my thinking, a knowledge that they 
would trap me.
    But I didn't give up. If I had, I would have paused in 
midwater and let them take me. I knew one thing I wanted 
to do before I became a prisoner, and I needed to be on 
the surface to do it.
    The townsfolk might have me, but they would not have 
any Elwen essencenames.
    I hesitated as I got near the surface, both to rest 
and to let the people think I was giving up. Glancing 
back, I saw them grinning gleefully through the enchanted 
glass of their air bubbles.
    I waved nonchalantly, then gathered my remaining bits 
of speed and shot out of the water. 
    I landed on the bank, right in front of the fat 
cleric. Stunned, he froze. I took the opportunity to lock 
eyes with him.
    Any Elwen can penetrate any human's soul, and the 
cleric's was not a particularly strong one. I read the 
answer I wanted there.
    Smiling, I bowed, flipped him a wave, and vaulted into 
the air, landing on a rooftop before he could scream for 
the guards. I sprang to another rooftop, then another. 
Then I wheeled to the ground, ignoring my protesting 
muscles, and smashed through the window of the building in 
front of me.
    The meeting-house.
    I spilled, amid tinkling shards of glass, into a 
large, bare, wood-paneled room. Getting my feet under me 
again, I sprinted to the right corner of the room and 
pressed a delicate carving of a rabbit into the wall.
    Click. A trapdoor sprang open, revealing a tiny 
chamber with twelve glass medallions on silver chains in 
it.
    The essence medallions.
    I reached in, tugging out the whole tangled mess of 
medals, and promptly stepped on one, grinding the glass 
into dust. I placed the rest under my feet and began 
stamping, trying to break as many as I could. 
    One of the pair farthest from my boots started glowing 
silver. A tendril of graying light reached out toward me, 
joined a moment later by a tentacle of blue light. A 
humming sound issued from the jewelry.
    "No, thank you," I muttered under my breath, quickly 
stepping on that medallion. I didn't need my own spirit 
enslaved.
    Suddenly a voice, cold as the water soaking my 
clothes, issued from the broken window. "Don't make any 
sudden moves, Keren. Turn around slowly."
    I froze, but moved my boot carefully over the floor to 
crush another essence medal. "Why should I?" I challenged, 
making no move to turn.
    A dagger flashed by my right hand, causing a stinging 
pain to appear in my fingers. I felt silver blood oozing 
out of the wound, and heard my finger drop to the floor. 
"That's why," said the cold voice.
    I turned, purposely painting my most bored expression 
across my features. Elwens can regenerate fingers. "All 
right," I admitted, clutching my smarting hand. "You can 
do some pretty neat things. But I've been in more pain 
plenty of times, and I want to say-"
    "Silence, or we'll put your eyes out!"
    I smirked behind my four-fingered hand. Elwens can 
only be blinded magically. Even gouged-out eyes soon grow 
back. "Well, I'll think about it," I said lazily.
    "Somebody shut him up!" The door banged open, and the 
cleric of Masksh stormed in. He ran right past me to stare 
in horror at the crushed medallions, then whirled to face 
me, lofting a pudgy fist.
    "You will be punished." His calmness was some more 
frightening than rage.
    I sent a cold glare his way. I hated emotionlessness. 
"I'd like to see you try, you son of a pig."
    The cleric walked up to where I stood, moved as though 
to slap me with his raised fist, then yelled outside, 
"Bring in the chains and secure this dog so he can't slap 
or kick back!"
    Several armored, armed humans entered, one carrying 
ankle-cuffs and chains, and another carrying chains that 
were meant to be secured to the arms. They glided behind 
me, and I winced as they tugged my arms, one of which was 
bleeding from smashing through the window, together 
roughly. My legs were chained, and then the guards moved 
off a short distance to watch the confrontation. One of 
them even asked eagerly, "What are you going to do, Lord 
Ferret?"
    "Silence!" Lord Ferret, who did not look much like his 
namesake, roared. Then he began slapping me roundly, 
punching me hard when I turned my head to avoid the blows. 
Dazed, I tried to stagger backwards, but he gripped my 
arm-chains and tugged me forward again. The slaps went on.
    By now, rage- a feeling that often asserts itself- 
began to bubble up in me. I'm often told I have a short 
temper, and I often wonder if that's a weakness or a 
strength. It may not help me make friends, but it's 
protected me many a time. 
    So now, I kept my eyes on Lord Ferret's face, looking 
for a likely target. My gaze quickly located his jaw, 
which hung there like a bag of potatoes, and I sent my 
emotion to do its appointed task.
    The cleric screamed as his face crumpled like so much 
cookie dough, as if punched by an invisible knee. He fell 
to the ground, writhing- giving me time to leap out of the 
window.
    It wasn't a long drop to the ground, but, since I 
couldn't put out my hands and feet to stabilize myself, I 
crunched heavily down on my right shoulder. I knew as soon 
as I hauled my body upright that my arm was broken.
    Gritting my teeth through the pain, I spurred my body 
forward- until a thrown rock from behind struck my left 
knee. I went down loudly, onto a sharp stone that 
punctured my soft brown leggings and dug in until it 
scraped the bone of my kneecap. 
    Pain surged with its silent screams through my leg as 
I stood up- dizzily- again. Blood pumped from nearly a 
dozen wounds in my arms, legs, and cheeks. 
    I knew then that I would not be able to avoid capture.
    I leaned helplessly against the wall of a stone house, 
agony assaulting me from my arm, especially. Faint from 
loss of blood, I waited quietly for them.
    But when an armed guard came up, holding a chain to 
snap about my neck, my fighting will asserted itself once 
more. I whipped my head to the side, then lashed my 
arm-chain over my head to bring my hands in front of me- 
ignoring the anguish in my right limb- and hit the guard 
in the face with the iron links. I experienced a certain 
satisfaction as his eye puffed up and his scream shattered 
the air.
    I shifted uneasily under the weight of the next 
attack- guilt- but I had done only as my spirit and my 
emotion demanded of me. I had broken the law, but it was 
unfair anyway. It deserved to be broken.
    But, under the guilt, I made no effort to resist as 
the next guard secured the chain about my neck and lifted 
a wooden club.
    Actually, a little sleep sounded good after so much 
pain.
    Then the club crashed onto my head, and a long 
straight drop into darkness followed.
----------------------------------------------------------
    I blinked open swollen eyes in a mostly bare stone 
cell. Lifting my protesting head, I saw a small cot 
chained to the wall, a wooden bucket filled with what 
smelled like water, and a tiny, cracked mirror hanging on 
the crystal bars of the window.
    Raising myself up, I flinched at the vision in the 
mirror. A huge goose-egg glowed purple in the middle of my 
tangled silver hair. My face showed clearly the red 
handprints left by Ferret's slaps. My eyes, usually black 
with flecks of gold, now looked bloodshot and blackened. 
My right arm hung limp, and, while the hole in my left leg 
was wrapped with a crude bandage, it hurt like crazy. 
Punch wounds- probably inflicted while I lay unconscious- 
shone all over my body.
    In short, I looked terrible.
    Shifting my weight onto my left leg, I hissed softly. 
I wouldn't be springing onto rooftops for a couple of 
days.
    Abruptly the single stone door banged open, causing me 
to whirl around so fast that my head banged the wall. Only 
Then did I notice that my arms, legs, and neck were 
secured by shackles to iron brackets in the wall.
    In walked two guards, carrying torches. They halted on 
either side of the door. They were followed by a grinning 
Ferret and a purple-robed man- the Mayor.
    I remained upright, staring at them. For some reason, 
this seemed to infuriate Ferret, who started forward, only 
stopping when the Mayor layed a warning hand on his arm. 
"If he doesn't want to bow," I heard the Mayor murmur," he 
doesn't have to."
    "But you're the ruler of this city!" argued Ferret in 
a whisper.
    "True." The Mayor looked at me, as if expecting me to 
kneel.
    "I'm the ruler of myself," I stated proudly. "I will 
bow to no one but the gods."
    Now it was the Mayor who had to be restrained from 
charging toward me. He finally calmed and waved Ferret 
forward.
    Ferret waddled up, sticking his smelly face right into 
mine. I noticed, to my disgust, that healingbloom sap had 
already been applied to his jaw. "So, Keren Deerfriend," 
he snarled. "We have had many reports of you. Many seek 
you to avenge wrongs done in the past to them by you. 
Those claims are just, I see."
    "Depends on what you call just," I replied.
    The cleric's body shook, his face flushing. Then he 
forcibly grabbed hold of his rage, stuffing it back into 
his mind. "Rowan, in particular, would be interested to 
learn if it was you who sabotaged their trade routes this 
winter."
    "Of course it was me. And they were trampling the rare 
plants that grow along those trade routes- not to mention 
shooting prime game. They shot so many deer that dozens of 
wolves starved to death," I replied. "All I did was detour 
the caravans- a reasonable detour- to give the area they'd 
overhunted time to recover."
    "Oh, we have a self-proclaimed protector of the 
forests here!" Ferret laughed, turning to include the 
Mayor in the conversation. Then he whipped back to face 
me. "And I suppose it was you who attacked the slave 
caravans traveling to Vina?"
    "Yes." I was having a hard time talking and holding my 
breath so I wouldn't suffocate from his smell. Finally, I 
spoke again. "I don't care if those elves were political 
prisoners. Slavery is ended. They belong free."
    "I find it hard to believe that you and the small 
party who came with you could do all that," interjected 
the Mayor. "You would need to have many people."
    "All of the other people are too frightened by the 
repressive governments of Arcadia to do anything about 
injustice," I said, which got me another punch from 
Ferret.
    "Also," the cleric of Masksh went on slyly, eyes on 
mine as though watching for a reaction, "we have received 
letters from a lord in Cytheria who is very interested in 
you. He would love to have you as his own prisoner."
    "I know." I tried to smile, but the hatred surging 
through me was too intense. "I got some letters from him 
today."
    "These letters were found on your person," the Mayor 
admitted. "You two seem to really dislike each other."
    "If only you knew," I mumbled quietly.
    "Perhaps," said Ferret slowly, as though tasting each 
word, "it would be best- even though it would cheat us of 
the opportunity to practice justice on your pitiful body- 
to give you to Lord Sodiest."
    At the mere mention of my foster brother's name, blood 
surged through my muscles. I heard myself snarling like a 
Lafox, but I didn't care.
    How I hate him! He killed my best friend, and got away 
with it because of the hypocritical system of Elwen 
justice. We'd both been exiled- he for murder, I for 
trying to murder him- and we'd gone our separate ways. I'd 
almost convinced myself that I'd laid my loathing to rest. 
But nothing- nothing at all- could ever make me forgive 
him. Our mutual hate is just too holding.
    Ferret seemed delighted at my reaction, and laughed 
aloud. I almost loosed my rage at him again, but saw the 
Mayor leveling a warning stare at me, and stopped.
    "So the volatile dog has a sensitive side after all!" 
the priest chortled.
    Calming my rage, I sent an icily cool look at him, 
wishing, meanwhile, that I could somehow see the stars. 
The silvershine always stopped a land Elwen's blood from 
boiling. But, underground and in a prison cell, there was 
no chance. 
    Ferret stopped laughing so abruptly that I changed my 
expression from coldness to surprise. His eyes narrowed, 
and he snapped, "Believe me when I say that we will 
torture you until you renounce your insults and your 
crimes." He watched me closely, frowning when I stood 
silent.
    "Your friends are dead!" he cried suddenly, sticking 
his face close to mine.
    Fury and a desperate sense of loss assaulted me- until 
I listened to the discordance in his words and knew that 
he was lying. "Liar," I responded quietly, feeling my face 
regain its serene expression.
    Ferret stamped his foot and hopped in a circle, belly 
jiggling up and down like a bowl of hot fat. Finally he 
stopped, blew a deep breath out again, and, stepping 
forward, quite deliberately slapped me across the face. I 
stopped myself from retaliating, determined not to sink to 
his level, though my fury begged for release on his 
paunchy face.
    "Lord Ferret!" The Mayor's cry was authoritative. 
"That will be enough." Turning to me, he spoke. "Usually, 
it is not Sarnish policy to give prisoners a trial, but 
one of our citizens said that he met you in the square, 
and you did not seem malicious. If he speaks for you, a 
quick death will be considered."
    A mental image of the tall, yellow-eyed human flashed 
in my brain. "What is his name?" I asked.
    "Sarn Wayfarer," answered the Mayor. "As a matter of 
fact, he is a mercenary, one of our claims to fame, and a 
prominent person in our town. His word carries a great 
deal of weight, as does that of his daughter, Sandy."
    I opened my mouth to ask another question, but the 
stone door opened, and the Mayor waved me to silence as a 
guard stepped into the cell, saluting smartly. "Sir," he 
began when the purple-robed man signaled him to speak, 
"Sarn Wayfarer vouches for the stranger, and asks you to 
let him go free."
    "Tell him we thank him for his pledge, but we cannot 
grant the last part of his request," interjected Ferret, 
in so diplomatic a voice that I stared at him. "The good 
people of Sarn would be much upset if this one were to go 
free." Glancing at me, he murmured so that only I could 
hear, "As would I."
    "Sir?" The guard looked at the Mayor.
    "You heard what Lord Ferret said. Convey his- I mean, 
our- opinion to Sarn at once!"
    The man bowed and backed through the door, which swept 
shut again with a bang.
    "Lord Mayor," began Ferret in the voice of a man 
asking for a prize for some heroic deed, "if Your 
Graciousness allows, I wish to kill this Elwen myself."
    I stared at him in alarm. He returned my gaze with a 
smirk.
    The Mayor stared speculatively for a moment, than 
nodded. "As you wish, Lord Ferret." He raised a hand to 
motion the guards and cleric out of the cell.
    "Wait." Ferret had never taken his eyes off me. "I 
want to talk with the prisoner about what is expected of 
him under Sarnish law."
    "You think I'll obey, Ferret?" I snarled, pointedly 
leaving off the title. To empathize my unwillingness to 
cooperate, I spat in his face.
    The cleric's hand wiped off the spittle. Then, moving 
with a threatening calm, he walked up and grabbed my chin, 
forcing me to hold my breath from his smell. He jerked my 
head to the side, exposing my neck. Then he used his other 
hand to reach under the front of his robes and pull 
something out. 
    The medallion of Masksh, Goddess of Farmland.
    He touched the medal to my neck and closed his eyes. I 
heard words, a chant, begin to tumble from his thick lips, 
and then pain seized me.
    It felt as if the silver blood in my veins had turned 
to liquid fire. I struggled helplessly, screaming, as he 
pressed the medal deeper and deeper into the side of my 
neck, inflicting divine pain upon me. 
    My cells were being ripped out, my skull squashed like 
an orange. My muscles locked with a helpless paralysis, 
which drove me nearly frantic. It suggested helplessness, 
something intolerable to a warrior. I could no longer even 
scream.
    When Ferret finally let me go, I slumped to the floor 
as much as my chains would allow. Lifting my head to look 
into the mirror, I was mildly surprised to see that all of 
my body parts were still intact. 
    "He's kneeling now, Your Graciousness," I heard Ferret 
snigger.
    "Very good, Lord Ferret," admitted the Mayor. The 
voices were coming fainter and fainter to my ears as a 
haze of weariness took me. "Not many things can break an 
Elwen's spirit."
    I was lying on the floor now, barely able to keep my 
eyes open, but I managed to send a long stream of spittle 
flying into the Mayor's face. 
    I heard him roar, then snap his fingers. The guards 
surged forward, tugging me roughly to my feet, kicking and 
punching me. I screamed as they punched my broken bone, 
but it was a weak cry, hardly one of healthy defiance.
    Through the pain that joined the sleepiness, I heard 
Ferret whisper, "You're mine, Elwen."
    Unconsciousness took me again.
----------------------------------------------------------
    When I woke the first time, Ferret was standing over 
me. He knelt, roughly applying healingbloom sap to my 
shoulder and my leg. Even as I felt the garish wounds 
begin to heal, he forced a potion down my mouth.
    Instantly, sleep wrapped me again.
----------------------------------------------------------
    The second time, I woke up completely alone. Outside, 
I could hear loud cheers that died away after a few 
moments. Then silence.
    I stood in quiet for what must have been three hours, 
enjoying the relief from pain in my right arm and left 
leg. Then a noise at the crystal-barred window startled 
me.
    A sable-cloaked form clung to the stone wall, holding 
easily with just fingers and toes. As I watched it waved, 
just once, then vaulted off the prison. But the visitor 
had stayed long enough for me to catch a glimpse of 
diamond-shaped black eyes.
    I groaned aloud. "I told you to get out of town!" I 
risked hissing, using Aril, the musical language of 
Elwenkind.
    A pause, then, "You're a fool if you think we'd 
abandon you!"
    ^So I'm a fool,^ I responded, switching to telepathy, 
now that I knew who it was. ^You have to leave before the 
patrols catch you!^
    ^It's night,^ came the dark purr of a mental voice. 
^The time of the curalli.^
    I accepted that, but I was still determined to get him 
out of here. ^Leave, please,^ I implored one final time.
    ^Listen, Keren.^ The mental voice commanded a wealth 
of good sense. ^Would you leave us if we were prisoners?^
    ^No! But that's beside the point,^ I answered. ^I'm 
going to be executed. There's nothing you can do.^
    ^Never say nothing, Keren.^ Bay's rich, bugle-like 
voice joined Echelli's. ^I have a spell that will get you 
safely out of Sarn.^
    My inborn Elwen observation detected a faint sorrow in 
Baypirror's telepathic voice, and an equally faint 
emphasis on "you." ^Bay?^ I asked in alarm. ^Aren't you 
coming with us?^
    ^No.^ The unicorn's tone, fraught now with the sadness 
he no longer had to conceal, dipped as though under some 
heavy burden. ^I received a telepathic message from my 
people, Keren. War has broken out in Sweptoria. I must go 
to them. They are recalling all unicorns to Unicorn 
Forest.^
    ^I see.^ I could not hide how upset I was. Baypirror 
had been my first friend, and we'd adventured together for 
centuries. This separation caused me more pain than any 
I'd felt since Cuthri's murder.
    ^Don't worry, Keren.^ Echelli's tone was determinedly 
cheerful. ^We'll find somewhere interesting to go.^
    ^Actually,^ I mindsang, ^I was thinking of questing 
for the Swan.^
    Stunned silence from both of my friends. Then Echelli 
mentally said, ^But how? You don't even know what race 
took it, or where they took it. Arcadia's vast. How will 
you find it?^
    ^There is one way,^ I answered. ^If I could pick up 
the scent of the Swan, I could follow its trail- no matter 
how old it is.^
    ^True,^ Echelli admitted. ^But the thieves could have 
taken the Swan in any direction from Rowan. How could you 
scout all the ground in the Tableland?^
    ^I don't have to,^ I replied. ^There's an easy way to 
pick up the scent.^
    A moment of silence, then ^Keren!^ Echelli's tone was 
full of terror. ^You can't mean going...^
    ^Keren!^ Bay echoed, only he was stern. ^I didn't save 
your life only to see you throw it away. And throw it away 
is what you will be doing if you violate your exile!^ He 
paused, then went on, his tone softening. ^Besides, I 
thought you hated Rowan.^
    I gulped, and nodded. ^I do. But we're talking about 
the lives of millions of people here- not just mine. The 
Swan is the key to those lives, and it could be broken at 
any time. Do you want to die?^
    ^Now, what do you think the answer to that is?^ 
answered Echelli, with the hard sarcasm he sometimes 
shows. Then he spoke seriously. ^But, like Bay says, 
you'll be violating your exile by returning to Rowan.^
    "I don't care," I replied aloud. "Won't you come with 
me? You weren't exiled. As long as you don't come into the 
city proper, you'll be in no danger."
    ^Are you crazy, Elwen?^ Echelli replied empathetically 
in the mental tongue. ^As if I would let you go to your 
hated homeland by yourself! There must be someone with a 
thimbleful of sense, at least, to keep you from doing 
something foolish like getting arrested!^
    I smiled, sending waves of gratitude and warmth for 
his loyalty over the telepathic link to him. My ^Thanks^ 
hardly seemed necessary, because we were bonded in a 
covenant of friendship that went beyond thank you's.
    ^I wish I could go with you,^ sighed Bay. ^It sounds 
like it will be a great adventure. But, alas, my place is 
among-^ He cut off abruptly. ^Here comes someone! Get 
ready for a transfer, Keren!^
    Abruptly, the prison walls became insubstantial mist. 
My chains faded out of existence as I tugged on them, and 
I rolled through the mist into the street. 
    A smiling Echelli gripped my wrist tightly, then 
handed me my sword and dagger, which had been taken from 
me, and the letters from Sodiest. I glanced at those 
letters one more time before sticking them into my tunic 
pocket.
    Bay stood nearby, horn pointed toward the walls, which 
were already reforming into stone. Then we took off around 
the corner, crouching low to watch whoever might be 
coming.
    It was only a guard on routine patrol, sword slapping 
against his armor, a torch glimmering in his hand, and an 
intensely bored expression gracing his face. He chucked a 
cursory glance into my cell, then turned and walked back 
the other way. I smiled, wondering what the expression on 
his face would be tomorrow.
    "This way!" Baypirror was already insisting, trotting 
over the stones with a sound of bells. Echelli and I 
exchanged mutual glances of disgust at the noise, then 
leaped after him, moving into the shadows, my curalli 
friend springing over the stones with almost feline grace.
    By great good luck- or magic- we met no one on the 
streets, and soon made our way to the lift. There Echelli 
and I climbed in, and turned to wait for Baypirror.
    But the black unicorn only stood on the soft sand, 
making no move towards the iron cage."I have a spell that 
will take me home," he said softly, eyes glimmering with 
dark brilliance- of unshed tears, I was sure. Then he 
snapped his head briskly. "Well, farewell." He reared up, 
seeking my eyes. There was sorrow- a haunting sorrow- in 
the beautiful black pools of his gaze. Then his horn 
showered him with crystal light, and he vanished. But a 
tendril of crystal light shot from his horn before his 
body disappeared completely, and made the lift rise slowly 
into the air.
    I slumped against the side of the lift, shivering. For 
some reason, that fathomless sorrow in his eyes stirred 
fear in me- terror, actually. I rubbed my arms, trying to 
still the goosebumps that had risen under my green tunic. 
I felt as if Bay had threatened my life by leaving.
    But that was silly. How could he threaten my life? I 
was alive thanks to him. And he'd ever been my friend.
    Into my mind flashed a picture that made no sense- 
unless my subconscious knew something my conscious mind 
didn't. A picture of a lovely, delicate female Elwen, 
blond-haired, with laughing green eyes. Her head was 
tilted back, her long, slender fingers stretched towards 
the sun.
    It was a picture of my sister Lomona- as she'd looked 
before she betrayed me.
    Angrily I banished the image, and turned to Echelli- 
only to find him staring at me.
    "Keren," he said very softly, "you saw something. And 
I want to know what it was."
    The curalli knew me far too well.
    "A picture of my sister," I replied truthfully, then 
shut my mouth. And no matter how much Echelli bothered me, 
no more would I tell him.
    My precognition was acting up again, that was all, I 
told myself. There was nothing to worry about.
    And yet, as we neared the surface, I shivered.




                        Chapter 3
                          Cisca
    "Keren, I can't see why you feel you have to go back 
to Rowan. Surely there are easier ways to pick up the 
scent!"
    "We've been over this before, Echelli," I reminded him 
wearily, swallowing the venison I'd been munching. "I have 
to go back there, as distasteful as the idea is. I don't 
blame you if you don't want to go, but-"
    "And we've been over that already, too," my curalli 
friend cut in. "The way you've been urging me not to go, I 
would almost think you didn't want my company."
    "No!" My vehement protestation drew a grin from both 
of us. Then I continued. "It's just that I'd like to know 
you're safe."
    "I can take care of myself, thank you," Echelli 
replied. "And I'm going with you. I'm not going to abandon 
you like Baypirror did."
    "Bay had to return home," I returned, somewhat 
heatedly, because the black unicorn's departure disturbed 
me too. "He had no choice."
    The curalli simply looked at me. Then he shrugged, 
shouldering his pack as he rose to his feet. "Well, we've 
got quite a long way to go. We might as well get moving."
    I nodded, tying my own rucksack and standing up. It 
would indeed be a lengthy journey.
    We were in the Forbge Forest near the base of those 
foothills that eventually rose to become the Unknown 
Mountains. Our plan was to sweep through the forest, 
following the range- a trek that would cross untamed and 
usually untraveled territory- until we came to the Acrad 
River. Then we would turn south, sweeping east again after 
a few thousand miles. Then we would hit Rowan.
    Both Echelli and I were excited as well as disturbed. 
We had never traveled this part of the vast continent 
before, and who knew what adventures we might find?
    As the sun sank into purple clouds, we glided forward 
through groves of trees and thick undergrowth mostly 
unfamiliar to us. There was a reason why the mountain 
chain was called the Unknowns.
    All night we trotted with the steady gait of wolves, 
moving without sound over the carpet of grass and summer 
flowers. Not familiar with the creatures of the region, we 
were interested in not disturbing them.
    Elwen endurance is great, and by the time the sun 
rose, Echelli and I were nearly a hundred miles from Sarn. 
We leaped into trees to sleep through the misty, steaming 
summer morning, confident that we could wake in time to 
stop any animal attacks. When we woke we ate, and then 
resumed the pace.
----------------------------------------------------------
    We carried on this routine for three weeks, traveling 
thirty thousand miles toward the Acrad. Still, it would be 
six more days before we would meet the mighty river.
    How we would hire a boat to take us across became a 
topic of conjecture.
    "I still say we should just swim," said Echelli. He 
was lounging in a tree, his sable cowl pulled low to 
shield his sensitive eyes from the sun. His slender, 
silver-skinned hands moved even as he talked, sharpening 
and polishing one of his dirks. He always was capable of 
more than one task.
    I lifted my eyebrows and smiled humorlessly. 
"Obviously you've never seen the Acrad?"
    "No," admitted the shadowed Elwen. He cast me a 
curious glance. "Why? Is there something special about 
it?"
    "Oh, no." I feigned innocence, lying back to stretch 
my arms behind my head. "Only that it's so wide you would 
die of exhaustion before you reached the other side."
    The curalli stopped running his weapon over his 
sharpstone for a moment, staring at me. Then he resumed 
his activity, smiling and shaking his head. "All right, 
I'll take the bait, Keren. How wide is it?"
    "Five thousand miles." I enjoyed the sight of the 
curalli choking, his smile turning once more to a glare of 
astonishment.
    "Okay, we need a boat," conceded Echelli, shaking his 
head again.
    "I knew you'd agree." Smiling sweetly, I pulled some 
fruit from my sack, handing two pieces to Echelli. "Now, 
we've got to decide how to hire-"
    "GET OUT!" The hysterical scream startled the both of 
us.
    Whirling around, I saw a creature with a vaguely 
antelope-shaped body charging us. It swung a long tail a 
lot like a crocodile's. But the head, the head of a great 
eagle, snapped its beak in open, unmistakable threat.
    "Efgoan, Keren!" Echelli called, leaping from the tree 
just as the rushing monster crashed into it.
    "I can see that!" I yelled back, meanwhile pulling an 
arrow from my quiver and sliding my bow off my shoulder. 
Despite my sarcasm, though, I cursed under my breath. 
"Wonderful," I muttered.
    Efgoans, of just enough intelligence to repeat phrases 
like the "get out" this one had used, attacked with such a 
variety of weapons that it was difficult to keep track of 
them all. They would charge a person to crush him with 
their weight. They would use their hooves like axes, their 
tail like a whip, and their beak to bite. They also 
coughed up chunks of mucus that were absolutely disgusting 
to feel. And their gaze could turn a victim to silver.
    Oh, yes- they were very territorial.
    As the efgoan turned around, I sent an arrow whizzing 
at its eyes, ducking my head so as not to meet its gaze.
    The monster displayed the stupidity of its breed- it 
glared at the arrow, turning it to silver. But of course 
the projectile kept coming, and sliced across the brute's 
face, cutting the eyes. The efgoan reared back, 
screeching. Then it shook its head as if shaking away the 
pain and charged again. But at least I'd ended the 
terrible gaze attack.
    I leaped toward the thing, instead of away as it 
expected, turning a somersault in midair and landing on 
its back. Here I drew my sword and dagger and went to work 
on the creature's fur.
    Dumber than I thought, the efgoan lifted its tail 
toward me to smack me. I easily sprang out of the way, and 
the creature's spiked natural flail only sank into its 
spine, further bloodying the wounds I had opened. I landed 
on the ground and watched my opponent, waiting carefully.
    The brute's scream then was truly horrible to hear. It 
let loose with flying chunks of mucus, but I managed to 
dodge them. While it was thrashing about, Echelli dropped 
on its back, gripped his dirks, and sank the steel blades 
into its neck.
    He jumped, a blur of speed, out of the way as the 
beast's body crashed to the ground. We exchanged glances 
of smug triumph, before we went about gutting the monster. 
    "Well done."
    The new unexpected voice sent Echelli and I to our 
feet, weapons flashing out to the defensive as we wheeled 
back to back. Our solely instinctive reaction ended in a 
few moments, once we gazed upon the newcomer.
    She stood in the patch of undergrowth the efgoan had 
emerged from, one hand on a finely made copper sword, the 
other on her hip. Delicate chain mail armor covered her 
body down to the knees, with golden leg plates shielding 
her calves. Her high black boots looked to have more than 
one dagger within them. Her proud posture and fine raimant 
made it clear she came from a wealthy family.
    She was a beautiful human woman. Her hair looked to be 
on fire until I realized its true red color. Brilliant, 
doe-shaped eyes shone almost like real emeralds, so vivid 
and vital was their intense green. Perfect features 
included fair skin covered with a light smattering of 
freckles and coral-pink lips upturned in a delicate smile. 
Altogether, she presented the picture of a deceptively 
slender female with a great deal of strength.
    "Well, if you fellows have overcome your surprise, 
maybe we can talk." The woman walked forward, her walk 
precise and regulated, as though she were used to marching 
to the beat of a drum. She sheathed her sword and tossed 
back her flaming curls in a deliberately girlish manner as 
she reached us.
    Echelli may have been staring because a human woman 
was the last sight he expected to see here, or because she 
was really a vision of loveliness, but I was staring 
because she was familiar. I'd seen her somewhere before...
    An uncomfortable prickling feeling crept over me as 
the haunting resemblance grew stronger. I really did have 
the strange certainty that we'd met.
    That's ridiculous, I told myself firmly. I've met very 
few human women, and certainly no warriors. But the 
feeling remained, mingled now with a distinct sense of 
unease.
    "Well met," the woman said, thrusting a gloved hand 
toward me. "My name is Cisca Emeraldeyes." She smiled 
again. "What's yours?"
    "Keren Deerfriend," I replied automatically, 
immediately wishing I hadn't.
    Cisca's eyes widened, and she studied me more closely. 
The smile grew wider, turning almost cunning. Her grip on 
my hand tightened imperceptibly, her gaze taking in every 
detail of me, focusing most particularly on my weapons. 
"Shouldn't be hard," she murmured. She grinned like a 
mouse-glutted cat.
    I jerked my hand from her grasp, feeling very highly 
disturbed now. "What do you mean?" I asked bluntly. "What 
'shouldn't be hard'?" By now I was almost snarling. I 
couldn't help it. My body was sending me chills, silent 
screams that something was very wrong.
    "It shouldn't be hard to convince you to let me join 
your group," she responded calmly.
    "Why would you want to?"
    "Keren!" Echelli hissed at me. He sometimes gets 
disgusted by my lack of tact. He stepped forward, offering 
his hand to Cisca. "Excuse him," he muttered. "He's just 
very uptight."
    Cisca shook Echelli's hand, but kept her eyes on me. 
"I want to join because I heard you talking, and I suspect 
that we share a common purpose."
    "And what's that?" I asked sarcastically.
    "The Swan," replied the human. "I want to find it, you 
want to find it. Since nobody else seems to be doing 
anything definite in the way of finding it, we should 
undertake the task."
    "Why would you want to find the Swan?" I asked.
    "Some reasons I prefer to keep to myself."
    She returned my stare of suspicion, only hers was 
amused. A faint smile curled her lips again, a mocking 
smile.
    Echelli smiled. "I, for one, would be glad to have 
your company. It can get lonely out here." Here his voice 
became somber. "We lost a traveling companion to a 
summons, and we're used to fighting in a trio during 
battles. Another fighter would be welcome." He cast a 
glance at me.
    "I don't know," I said.
    "Keren, don't worry so much." Echelli's tone held a 
faint hint of rebuke. "Remember what you're always telling 
me?"
    I looked apologetically into his dark eyes, bowing to 
show my acceptance of his reprimand as well. Echelli's 
distrust of people had made it hard to find allies for 
such undertakings as freeing slaves or diverting caravans. 
I had talked to him more than once about how a 
heart-reading revealed people could be trusted, but, in 
his stubbornness, he ignored me. Now it appeared I was 
doing the same thing.
    "A bigger group would be an advantage in such 
wilderness as this," I conceded. Looking, still with a 
little skepticism, at Cisca, I asked, "I take it you know 
the forestland around here?"
    "Oh, yes. I grew up in Cinya, and I've often traveled 
the Tableland." She grinned again, this time 
enigmatically. "If anyone can get you to the Acrad River, 
and from there to Rowan, it's me." She jingled a full 
pouch that hung from her belt. "I've even got enough money 
to hire a boat." She glanced down. "And you've got a 
source of money right here."
    "The efgoan?" Echelli and I exchanged incredulous 
glances.
    "Efgoan meat is tender," said Cisca, "and, if you're 
willing to take some extra weight, we can get it to Hemel 
and sell it."
    "Now why didn't I think of that?" I muttered to 
Echelli out of the side of my mouth.
    "You were too busy being suspicious," answered the 
curalli.
    "Okay, okay, you don't have to rub it in," I growled. 
I looked at Cisca one more time. "I guess I have no 
objections to you guiding us, but there is one question 
I'd like to ask you."
    "Yes?" The human woman's body suddenly stiffened, as 
though she were anticipating the question.
    "Forgive me, but you don't seem like the kind of 
person who would normally do this for other people. Why 
are you agreeing to guide us?" I hoped the question wasn't 
too insulting.
    Cisca smiled, even relaxed. "I can understand your 
curiosity. Elwens can heart-read, correct?" When I nodded, 
she went on, "You're right, I have worked as a- a 
mercenary, among other pursuits. I usually accept money. 
But there's one thing I value more than coin, and that's 
adventure." She smiled, reminiscently. "I remember one 
campaign, when a mage hired me and a few companions to 
find out what had happened to a friend of his who was 
crossing the Unknown Mountains, and apparently 
disappeared. The mage didn't have much money, but he paid 
me handsomely in adventure- as well as this." She patted 
the sword on her belt.
    She looked me squarely in the eye. "This journey 
promises adventure. I'm not about to miss it- particularly 
since I want the Swan back for reasons of my own."

    I decided to accept that answer, and showed my 
acceptance with a short nod. I trotted to the body of the 
efgoan to retrieve my silver arrow, which actually would 
be useful if we came across any lycanthropes. Returning it 
to my quiver, I saw that Cisca had come up beside me and 
was regarding the body of the creature with calculating 
eyes.
    "The efgoan probably weighs about two hundred pounds," 
she murmured quietly. "I happen to be carrying a depleted 
rucksack right now- I've been surviving by hunting for a 
while- so I could easily take a hundred pounds or so." She 
turned her eyes to regard me critically. "But you weigh 
even less than I do, and I don't think you're as strong. 
How much can you carry?"
    "More than you think, I suspect," I retorted, but I 
smiled to take away the sting. I was beginning to admire 
her blunt honesty. "Probably seventy- eighty pounds."
    Cisca just stared at me for a moment, then turned her 
head to look at Echelli. "And you?" she asked. 
    The curalli shrugged, seeming reluctant to answer. 
"Ninety or so," he sang in a quiet, subdued voice. I 
wondered what was wrong with him until I saw that the sun 
was nearing noon. He crouched in a patch of shade, his 
eyes closed, sweat sliding down his silver skin to drip on 
the ground. He panted like a wounded animal.
    "What's wrong with him?" Cisca asked, echoing my first 
thought. "Why is he sweating like that?"
    "His kind don't like the sun," I answered, trotting 
over to give my friend a drink out of my water flask. "He 
needs coolness, shade, and darkness."
    Cisca, smarter than I gave her credit for, put things 
together faster than I had intended her to. "You mean we 
have to travel at night?" she exclaimed. "Just for him?"
    I cast her a stony glare. "This is a person's life 
we're talking about here, Cisca." Turning away in quiet 
rebuff, I knelt beside Echelli to help him drink better. 
Then, because he was oblivious to anything except his 
misery, I dragged him to a cooler patch of shade and 
pulled some more water from the flask to bathe his skin, 
which burned my hand when I touched it. He hunched, 
shivering from the heat, but managed to look up and give 
me a wink with one dark eye. "Thanks, Keren," he murmured 
drowsily before slipping into slumber.
    A hand touched my arm. I turned to find Cisca staring 
up at me in dumbfounded astonishment. "Why would you help 
him like that?" she asked. "In the campaigns I've been in, 
everybody has to take care of her or himself. We certainly 
don't give other people water."
    Again, I wondered about the wisdom of letting Cisca 
come with us. I walked off a short distance, sitting on 
the soft earth where I could keep a ready eye on Echelli 
if he began to be overheated. "Then this isn't much like 
your campaigns," I answered her.
    "You really don't like me, do you, Keren?" The candid 
question caught me by surprise.
    I didn't feel like denying the truth, and I've always 
valued honest expression of feelings. "No," I replied, 
keeping my black-gold eyes fixed on her green ones. "I 
don't. You've been disturbingly caustic and- well, 
mercenary." I paused, weighing the risks of telling her of 
my precognition.
    "And your gift for seeing the future warned you about 
me," finished Cisca calmly.
    I sent her a shocked look. "How did you know about 
that?"
    "So it's true, then." Cisca crouched on her heels 
beside me, making no move to remove her armor even though 
it was getting hot. "Believe me, Keren, legends have come 
to Cinya- even legends that took place over a thousand 
years ago. I know about you, I've heard of your 
precognition, and I'll admit, that's one of the reasons I 
was sen-" She stopped abruptly.
    "What?" I asked, feeling my eyes narrow as I regarded 
her.
    "I was sent by my current employer to find you," 
admitted the mercenary. "He wants the Swan back in its 
proper place as well, since he deals directly with magic, 
and he figured that, out of many people in Arcadia, you 
might have the best chance of finding it."
    I felt my face flush with embarrassment. Never have I 
been comfortable with fame.
    Cisca caught me off guard again by firmly changing the 
subject. "I wish you'd trust me," she murmured, putting 
her head down so that her red curls tumbled across her 
face. "Nobody in my profession much trusts anybody else, 
and it would be a relief not to have to watch my back for 
a dagger."
    Touched by her obvious distress, I clasped her hand. 
"I just wasn't certain of your motives, Cisca," I replied. 
"In light of...recent episodes, I find it hard to know who 
to trust." (I was not ready to mention what had happened 
in Sarn).
    "Then you know my dilemma." The human woman looked up, 
a genuine smile of relief widening across her face. "If we 
can trust each other, maybe we can get along.- and 
eventually restore the Swan to its proper place." She 
tightened her grip on my hand. "Friends?"
    I nodded, leaning back against a tree and releasing 
her hand. I didn't want to jeopardize a fragile bond by a 
prolonged handshake, which was sometimes seen as 
threatening. "Trust is the basis of any friendship, and 
the basis of any trust, friendship," I said, quoting a 
maxim of Maruss, an ancient curalli battle leader.
    "True enough!" Cisca's eyebrows rose, her green eyes 
flashing in mock challenge. "Just to show you that I do 
trust you, I'll tell you something that happened to me- 
something I usually don't talk about because it was not 
funny at the time."
    I smiled. "I haven't laughed for a while. Go ahead."
    "I was on a campaign to destroy some ughliers in 
Minamar," began Cisca. "We had to cross the Darkmirror 
Channel, and the boatmen, seeing our huge army, 
immediately decided to charge us double for the crossing, 
because of the strain our horses would cause on their 
boats. Unfortunately, the leader of the band I was 
traveling with, General Sahgli was-" Cisca grimaced- 
"shall we say, not the most patient of commanders. He 
decided to steal some of the boats, killing the boatmen if 
they tried to resist."
    In spite of myself, I was beginning to be drawn into 
the story. Cisca told the tale of the botched campaign 
with intense facial expressions, sarcastic inflections of 
her voice, and hand gestures. You could almost sense the 
impatience of General Sahgli and the smugness of the 
boatmen. I listened eagerly as she continued.
    "He chose three of the soldiers to go with him, and 
they snuck off at night. I had watch duty that night, but 
a young soldier who couldn't get to sleep offered to 
relieve me of it. I took the opportunity to sneak after 
the general.
    "I was privately miffed that the commander hadn't 
chosen me to help appropriate the boats, because until I 
was fifteen I grew up in Port Dragon on the Dragonhome 
Gulf in Kemiebeyest, and I had a lot of opportunity to 
observe shipping and sailing. I thought I would follow him 
and watch them try to take the conveyances. I was certain 
they would fail.
    "At any rate, I arrived at the dock of Mircha, the 
town of the boatmen, just after the general and his 
companions. I hid in the shadows to watch.
    "They crept on board the ships, which, curse their 
luck, were unguarded. The boatmen, convinced they had 
cowed us, were celebrating in Mircha. Annoyed, I watched 
as they cut the ropes of four boats and left them to 
drift. They knew the current in the Darkmirror would wash 
them downstream to our camp. We had several crafty old 
ones in our army who were sailors. They could take us 
across the channel for nothing.
    "By now, I was really upset. Then I decided that there 
was still a way to save the day. One of the boats wasn't 
too far out. In fact, it would pass the dock where I was 
hiding in a few seconds. I could leap to it easily, steer 
it out of the current, and expose the general and his 
companions as thieves. And- I'll admit it- I did want to 
show off.
    "I waited, crouched, hardly daring to breathe. The 
boat swept past on the dark water. And I sprang.
    "I can still remember crashing on the deck, making 
sure I made a great deal of noise, to alert General Saghli 
and his partners in conspiracy. Then I scrambled for the 
wheel, grinning at them."
    Cisca looked down, biting her lip. I could tell that 
the semi-embarrassing, semi-funny part was coming on. At 
last she looked up and spoke with a trace of a laugh in 
her voice.
    "You must know that, growing up in Port Dragon, I'd 
learned that most freshwater fish pose no threat. I was 
never scared of a shark after I hooked one when I was ten.
And yet, I got frightened this night.
    "Something leaped straight at my face. All I could 
think of were giant cockroaches and the blood-sucking 
beetles that are common around the Darkmirror. I flapped 
my hands at the thing and stumbled backwards. Too far.
    "I crashed into the water, hit my head on the hull, 
and went under.
    "The next thing I knew, I was lying on the beach, 
having water pumped out of me by an amused General Saghli. 
He'd dove into the channel to rescue me. So not only did I 
fail to stop the ships and avenge my injured pride, but 
I'd been rescued, like an infant, by my commander- who 
never did have a high opinion of women. Seldom have I had 
a plan foiled so completely." She stopped and sighed.
    "What leaped at you?" I asked, so fascinated that I 
was breathing hard.
    Cisca sighed a second time. "A flying fish."
    I couldn't help it. The image of someone as 
sophisticated and experienced as Cisca being driven into 
the water by a flying fish just drove the laughter right 
out of me. I ended up lying on the ground, holding my 
ribs, which ached from the amount of laughing I'd been 
doing.
    "You don't have to laugh that hard," snarled the 
human, but I could see, by the gleam in her eyes, that she 
was pleased by my chortling.
    I looked up, wiping my mouth, out of which a chuckle 
escaped every now and then. "Anything else?"
    "Well, I got this as a memento of my adventure." Cisca 
pointed to a crack in her lower lip, which appeared to be 
an old bite wound.
    "Did the fish bite you?" I asked, suddenly thinking 
she might have had good reason to fall overboard.
    Cisca rolled her green eyes. "No. I was so frightened 
that I bit through my lip."
    That was too much. I snorted three times with 
amusement. "Have you ever been that frightened before?"
    The woman shook her head. "No. Or since. I've nearly 
gotten my arm hacked off before by a religious cult, I've 
been offered as a sacrifice to the Goddess of Evil Music, 
and I've been abandoned in the Mountains of the Wyrms by 
unfaithful companions." Here she stopped to mutter, "Dead 
unfaithful companions," and run her thumb over the sword 
hilt. I shifted uneasily, causing her to resume her 
speech. "And never have I been so panicked as the night I 
fell into the Darkmirror Channel."
    I shook my head as my laughter subsided. Cisca had 
amused me, and gained my trust. But how could I show it?