Dragons of Winter Noght by Weis, Margaret

“Laurana, my daughter . . .”

Then nothing.

“Mistress . . .”

“What? Where am I? Who are you? I-I can’t see! Help me!”

“There mistress. Take my hand. Shhhh. I am here. I am Silvara. Remember?”

Laurana felt gentle hands take her own as she sat up.

“Can you drink this, mistress?”

A cup was placed to her lips. Laurana sipped at it, tasting clear, cold water. She grasped it and drank eagerly, feeling it cool her fevered blood. Strength returned, she found she could see again. A small candle burned beside her bed. She was in her room, in her father’s house. Her clothes lay on a crude wooden bench, her swordbelt and scabbard stood near, her pack was on the floor. At a table, across from her bed, sat a nursemaid, her head cradled in her arms, fast asleep.

Laurana turned to Silvara, who, seeing the question in her eyes, put her finger to her lips.

“Speak softly.” the Wilder elf replied. “Oh, not for that one”-Silvara glanced at the nurse-“she will sleep peacefully for many, many hours before the potion wears off. But there are others in the house who may be wakeful. Do you feel better?”

“Yes,” Laurana answered, confused. “I don’t remember-”

“You fainted,” Silvara answered. “I heard them talking about it when they carried you back here. Your father is truly grieved. He never meant to say those things. It is just that you hurt him so terribly-”

“How did you hear?”

“I was hiding, in the shadows in the corner there. An easy thing for my people to do. The old nurse said you were fine, you just needed rest, and they left. When she went to fetch a blanket, I put the sleep juice in her tea.”

“Why?” Laurana asked. Looking at the girl closely, Laurana saw that the Wilder elf must be a beautiful woman-or would be if the layers of grime and filth were washed from her.

Silvara, aware of Laurana’s scrutiny, flushed in embarrassment. “I-Iran away from the Silvanesti, mistress, when they brought you across the river.”

“Laurana. Please, child; call me Laurana.”

“Laurana,” Silvara corrected, blushing. “I-I came to ask you to take you with me when you leave.”

“Leave?” Laurana said. “I’m not goi-” She stopped.

“Aren’t you?” Silvara asked gently.

“I . . . I don’t know.” Laurana said in confusion.

“I can help,” Silvara said eagerly. ‘”I know the way through the mountains to reach the Knights’ outpost where the ships with birds’ wings sail. I will help you get away.”

“Why would you do this for us?” Laurana asked. “I’m sorry, Silvara. I don’t mean to be suspicious, but you don’t know us, and what you’re doing is very dangerous. Surely you could escape more easily on your own.”

“I know you carry the dragon orb.” Silvara whispered.

“How do you know about the orb?” Laurana asked, astounded.

“I heard the Silvanesti talking, after they left you at the river.”

“And you knew what it was? How?”

“My . . . people have stories . . . about it.” Silvara said, her hands twisting. “I-I know it is important to end this war. Your people and the Silvan eyes will go back to their homes and let the Kaganesti live in peace. There is that reason and-” Silvara was silent for a moment, then she spoke so softly Laurana could barely hear her. “You are the first person who ever knew the meaning of my name.”

Laurana looked at her, puzzled. The girl seemed sincere. But Laurana didn’t believe her. Why would she risk her life to help them? Perhaps she was a Silvanesti spy, sent to get the orb? It seemed unlikely, but stranger things happened.

Laurana put her head in her hands, trying to think. Could they trust Silvara-at least enough to get them out of here? They apparently had no choice. If they were going into the mountains, they would have to pass through Kaganesti lands. Silvara’s help would be invaluable.

“I must talk to Elistan,” Laurana said. “Can you bring him here?”

“No need, Laurana,” Silvara, answered. “He has been waiting outside for you to awaken.”

“And the others? Where are the rest of my friends?”