"I can't remember," Kellen said. Probably at the last village they'd visited, and that had been over a moonturn ago. Well, he took it off at night. Most of it, anyway.
And it was hot.
He reached out a hand he'd taken off his gauntlets in order to groom Firareth. Shalkan slipped his neck beneath Kellen's palm, and Kellen stroked his fingers through the unicorn's downy coat.
"Do unicorns ever shed?"
Shalkan just snorted, not answering. "Go home," he repeated. "Assuming, of course, that you still know the way. And try not to be surprised if you see unfamiliar faces in the streets. Armethalieh among others has sent a delegation of honor to the ceremony."
"Armethalieh?"
Kellen could not have been more stunned if Shalkan had told him that the Demons had sent a delegation.
"The look on your face is priceless."
Kellen had to smile. "Well, Cilarnen did say he was going to change things."
"And he is. And for the better."
"When is… ?"
"The day after tomorrow. If you hadn't gotten back when you did, they were going to send someone out to look for you."
Kellen sighed. "I suppose I'll see you around?"
"I certainly won't leave without telling you, after all we've been through together."
"Thanks."
Kellen turned and started walking up toward the city.
* * * * *
BY the time he reached his house, it was dusk. He saw a few people along the way only Elves and he'd never been more grateful for Elven politeness, for nobody stopped him or tried to speak to him. He had, he realized, absolutely no idea of what to do with himself. Oh, there was the ceremony to honor Idalia. He hated the idea of it, but he knew he had to attend, because it was important. But after that?
His Naming Day anniversary would be in a few months, he realized not that the Elves celebrated such events, he suspected. He'd be eighteen.
It was the beginning of most people's lives, and… not that his was over, but…
He just felt as if he'd already done everything he was supposed to do with his life, and that there was nothing left to do.
He reached the door of his house. To his surprise, there were lanterns outside, and they were lit. He stopped, frowning in confusion.
This was his house. He was certain of it. The Elves certainly wouldn't have given it to someone else.
As he paused on the doorstep, hesitating, the door opened.
A slender elegant Elven man stood there. He looked familiar. As he saw Kellen, his face took on a pleased expression.
"I See you, Kellen. I had expected you long ago. Come, enter. You will be hungry, and weary from the road. All awaits you, just as you would wish it."
Suddenly Kellen realized who this was.
Vertai.
Many moonturns ago, when Idalia had left their house to go and live with Jermayan, Kellen had somehow, suddenly and mysteriously, acquired a sort of servant or assistant, he had never quite been able to figure out Vertai's relationship to him, and Vertai had been expert at not answering that question. But since at that time, and probably still Kellen had possessed no ability to keep his wardrobe in order, his larder stocked, or even cook and clean, Vertai had taken on all of those tasks, generally performing them while Kellen was away receiving his lessons at the House of Sword and Shield.
"I See you, Vertai. And thank you," he added, bowing. "I am grateful for your aid."
He walked inside.
"Your robe is laid out, and I shall prepare tea. Perhaps you would care to suggest a suitable blend."
"I am sure that you will know a tea appropriate to the season."
He walked into his room, surprised at how small it seemed. And not surprised to find several things from his packs already neatly laid out in the appropriate places. Apparently his luggage had preceded him and already been unpacked.
He removed his armor and set it aside. Cleaning it could wait until he bathed. He unbraided his hair it had gotten very long over the past moonturns and combed it out. Then he put on the robe that was laid out for him on the bed relieved to see that for once it wasn't green, but a pleasing fawn color and matching house-boots and went out into the main room.
The tea thanks to the Elven "small magics" was already waiting for him. Kellen picked up the cup and sipped gratefully. The taste was unfamiliar, yet soothing. He remembered a conversation he had once had it seemed so long ago! with Dionan and Redhelwar about brewing and blending tea. They'd said the teas of springtime were subtle. This must be one of them.
"I thank you for this, Vertai," he said.
"I shall prepare your evening meal, and then I shall depart to my own home. Tomorrow, you must expect a visit from Tengitir. Your robes for the ceremony are prepared, but they will need a final fitting."
Kellen tried not to sigh. If he'd needed anything to convince him that the war was over and everything was swiftly returning to normal, a visit from the Elven seamstress who specialized in clothing for the non-Elven was definitely it.
"I shall attempt to conduct myself properly," he said.
"You will rejoice to know, as we all do, that Andoreniel is in the fullness of health indeed, that all who suffered the Shadow's Kiss have recovered completely. He has asked after you, and hopes you will come to see him when you may."
That was certainly good news. Kellen had to think a moment before he could frame his next question politely which was to say, in a form that was not a question. After so many moonturns of free-and-easy War Manners, it would take some time to settle fully back into formal Elven politeness again.
"There are many people living at the Fortress of the Crowned Horns," he said at last.
"The snow is still deep in the mountains, so I have heard. Andoreniel intends to send a convoy to them within the sennight, bringing news of our victory, and conveying all within back to their own homes."
And undoubtedly, Kellen thought, they would all be very grateful to go there.
* * * * *
TWO days later, the nobility and the aristocracy of every race in the land gathered together to bid their last farewell to Idalia.
Andoreniel and the Viceroys of the Nine Cities were there: Vanantiriel, Viceroy of Windalorianan; Kindolhinadetil, Viceroy of Ysterialpoerin; Magarabeleniel, Vicereign of Lerkalpoldara; Rochinuviel, Vicereign of Ondoladeshiron; Arelin, Viceroy of Deskethomaynel; Attindorande, Viceroy of Valwendigorean; Falmielandiel, Vicereign of Realthataladon; and Sildonaure, Viceroy of Thultafoniseen.
Though several of their cities lay now in Dark-blasted ruins that would take years to rebuild, and too many Elves to count lay dead, the Elves showed no sign that this was anything but a great victory, in their manner or their bearing. For the third time in their long history, they had faced the power of Shadow Mountain and broken it perhaps, this time, forever.