“There…” she whispered. It was the last thing she remembered.
Some time later she realized she was no longer in the sky. She was sitting on a blanket, leaning back against Ancaladar’s side. No matter how cold it was, the dragon’s body was always warm, like summer-warmed rocks. It was as if he radiated sunlight.
She took a deep breath. Her chest hurt.
The light brightened as Ancaladar folded his wing back.
“She’s awake,” Ancaladar said softly.
“I know I’m awake,” Vestakia said, feeling slightly cross. “And at least we know it works.”
“We do indeed,” Jermayan said, folding her hands around a cup of hot sweet tea and helping her raise it to her lips. “And while I am grateful for the news, it is perhaps somewhat distressing to learn that we have not one, but two enclaves within a short day’s ride of one another to deal with… and both of them very close to Ysterialpoerin, most ancient of the Elven cities.”
“That isn’t good, is it?” Vestakia said, after a pause.
“No,” Ancaladar assured her. “There really isn’t any way to make news like that sound good. But we’re very glad to have it, all the same.”
—«♦»—
SINCE Idalia worked with strong and sometimes toxic chemicals in her salves and potions, Kellen had brought her into the discussion with Artenel. The Elven armorer already knew the shape of the shield Kellen wanted—long and square, but curved for strength.
But what to make it out of was another question.
“Metal’s right out,” Idalia had said frankly. “Acid will eat right through it. Glass is best to stop acid.”
“If it’s thick enough to stop a sword blade—and it will have to stop one or two—it’s too heavy to lift,” Kellen protested. “And it’s fragile besides.”
“Nay, that is a myth,” Artenel protested. “Indeed, glass does become fragile with time. But new glass is supple, and when thick, is very strong. Yet a mace will crack it if it is not reinforced, nor have I the resources here to make shields of glass.”
“What about wood?” Kellen asked. “The acid will eat through it, but not fast, if it’s thick.”
“And wax,” Idalia said. “It’s not as good as glass, but it’s lighter and a lot more flexible. If you layer wood with sheets of wax—or even just cover a wooden shield with wax—it should be even more resistant to acid. They don’t have to last forever; just for one battle. It’ll burn like a torch, though.”
“But I will cover it in the finest leather,” Artenel said, brightening. “And the leather may be water-soaked before battle, then wax laid atop the leather as well. I think we may have discovered the very thing that will serve to confound the foe. It would even serve to hold a thin pane of glass, should some be found in time.”
Just then Ancaladar returned to camp. The dragon swept low over the camp once, signaling that there was news, before disappearing into the distance.
“He’s found them,” Kellen said, staring after the dragon.
“It would be more accurate,” Idalia said tartly, “to say that Vestakia’s found them. I’m going to go see if she’s all right. You stay here.”
—«♦»—
THE news had spread throughout the camp by the time Kellen returned to his tent: Shadowed Elves had been found near Ysterialpoerin. Messengers had already been dispatched to Andoreniel and to the Viceroy of Ysterialpoerin to give warning, and the army was making ready to deploy in all its strength, since not one, but two enclaves had been found.
Shalkan said Vestakia was fine, though very tired. Kellen very carefully kept from going to see for himself.
Not seeing Vestakia left him plenty of time to worry about other things, though. All he knew about Ysterialpoerin was that it was the oldest and northernmost of the Nine Cities—which meant it would be even colder there than here, if possible.
He’d barely begun going over a list of things to do—and orders to give— when the bells at his doorway jingled. “Be welcome,” Kellen said, turning.
It was Kharren, who was to Adaerion as Dionan was to Redhelwar, though she also commanded a force of her own. Adaerion was Kellen’s direct superior in the military hierarchy, which it had relieved Kellen to learn when he’d eventually discovered it. Better Adaerion, steady and fair, than someone he could never hope to impress—like Belepheriel.
Kharren stepped inside and stood in the doorway of his tent, regarding him politely.
“I See you, Kharren,” Kellen said, remembering his manners.
Kharren bowed slightly. “I See you, Kellen Knight-Mage. Adaerion wonders if it would be convenient for you to attend him.”
Kellen bowed in return. “It is always a pleasure to receive Adaerion’s wisdom.”
—«♦»—
AFTER the formalities in Adaerion’s tent had been observed, and tea had been poured, Kharren departed, leaving Kellen alone with Adaerion.
“One observes that you distinguish yourself well,” Adaerion said, sipping his tea, “and that your discourse is always refreshing.”
Kellen tried not to frown. What was that supposed to mean? Adaerion’s expression was impenetrable. Kellen wasn’t sure whether he’d just been insulted or not.
“I thank you for your notice of me,” he finally said.
Adaerion smiled. “Impatience is a poor General, yet decisiveness wins many an engagement. This evening Redhelwar dines with his senior commanders, to discuss how best to approach the coming problem. Were you there, perhaps you would contribute some remarks to the conversation.”
But I won’t be there, because Belepheriel, at the very least, would pitch a fit, Kellen supplied mentally. Even if it would be logical for a Knight-Mage to be present this evening, Senior Commander or not.
Suddenly he realized what this little tea party was really about. Adaerion was giving him the chance to tell him what he wanted them to know, so that Adaerion could present Kellen’s ideas.
Kellen hesitated, trying to figure out how to phrase his remarks in the indirect fashion that Elven protocol demanded.
“Oh, come, Kellen,” Adaerion said gently, and for the first time, allowed a commiserating smile to curve his lips. “Do you think I have never spoken with a human before? I shall not shatter, I promise you. Nor think less of you for being what you are, for if you are human, then you are also a Knight-Mage, and Shalkan’s rider. You are impatient, and this is a good thing, for some among us have far more patience than is needful. Speak as you would to one of your own kind. No one else is here to hear.”
Kellen relaxed. “Thank you,” he said with real warmth. “I think—now that we have found them—it’s important to know the layout of the inside of the Shadowed Elf caves before we enter in force. We still don’t want to risk Vestakia for that, though we might need her to find the entrances. But we still have Idalia’s tarnkappa, and they worked before to conceal our presence from the Shadowed Elves. What I think is that before the attack, scouts wearing tarnkappa should be sent into the caverns to map them. If they’re lucky, they might even discover a route to the villages inside. Then we’ll have some idea of what we’re facing.”
“So you would scout ahead,” Adaerion said, nodding. He paused, as if to gather his resources. “Who would you choose?”
Kellen looked surprised, more at the content of the question than that Adaerion had asked it; he was becoming used to the Elves dropping into War Manners now and then when it was the only convenient way to speed a conversation along. “The best scouts. And—anyone with experience in caves, or rock-climbing. Some of the cave paths are pretty narrow, and the tarnkappa won’t protect someone from being discovered if they’re bumped into. So they might have to climb to get out of the way.”
“How many would you send?”
Kellen shrugged, forgetting for the moment that this was a human gesture Adaerion might not understand. “It won’t matter too much—once they’re wearing the tarnkappa, they won’t be able to see or hear each other. Two or three, perhaps, so that at least one returns. No more.”
“Would you go yourself?” Adaerion asked.
The question seemed somehow different from those that had come before it, but Kellen answered it just as honestly. “I would go if I was asked to. I do not think that I would be the best one to send. If I used the Wild Magic, it might make them aware I was there—and during an important scouting mission is not the time to find out. In some ways, I am the best suited to the task, and in some the worst. I do know that while I would volunteer, I am not the person best suited to make the decision.”
“These are good answers. Very… simple.” Adaerion seemed to be relieved to be finished with his questions, and Kellen was reminded once more that Elves found questions not only rude, but sometimes very difficult to ask as well— perhaps even more difficult than he found their mode of speech.