“But they are here, they are alive!”
“Yeah. The elves retreated, the tytans apparently didn’t go after them.” Haplo saw the elflord cast a glance around the group assembled in the coppice, saw him draw Paithan farther into the trees, apparently for private conversation.
“Dog,” Haplo said. The animal lifted its head. A gesture from its master sent the dog padding swiftly, silently after the two elves.
“Pah!” The dwarf spit on the ground at his feet.
“You don’t believe them?” Haplo asked, interested. “You know what elemental magic is?”
“I know,” grunted Drugar, “though we do not use it ourselves. We use”-he pointed a stubby finger at the Patryn’s sigla-covered hands-“that magic.”
Haplo was momentarily confounded, stared dumbly at the dwarf.
Drugar didn’t appear to notice the man’s discomfiture. Fumbling at his throat, the dwarf drew out an obsidian disk worn on a leather thong, and held it up for the Patryn’s inspection. Haplo leaned over it, saw carved on the rare stone a single rune-a Sartan rune. It was crudely drawn; by itself it possessed little power. Yet he had only to look on his arms to see its counterpart tattooed on his own skin.
“We cannot use them as you do.” The dwarf stared at Haplo’s hands, his gaze hungry and yearning. “We do not know how to put them together. We are like little children: We can speak words, but we don’t know how to string the words into sentences.”
“Who taught you … the rune magic?” Haplo asked when he had recovered sufficiently from his shock to be able to speak.
Drugar lifted his eyes, stared far off, into the jungle. “Legend says . . . they did.”
Haplo was confused, thought at first he meant the elves. The dwarf’s black eyes were focused higher, almost to the tops of the trees, and the Patryn understood. “The tytans.”
“Some of us believed they would come to us again, help us build, teach us. Instead …” Drugar’s voice rumbled to silence, like thunder fading in the distance.
Another mystery to ponder, to consider. But not here. Not now. Alone . . . and far away. Haplo saw Paithan and the elflord returning, the dog trotting along unnoticed at their heels. Paithan’s face reflected some internal struggle; an unpleasant one, to judge by his expression. The elflord walked straight to Aleatha who, after assisting Roland with Haplo, had been left standing aloof, alone, at the edge of the copse.
“You’ve been ignoring me!” she stated.
Lord Durndrun smiled faintly. “I’m sorry, my dear. The gravity of the situation-”
“But the situation’s over,” said Aleatha lightly. “And here am I, in my ‘warrior maid’ costume, dressed to kill, so to speak. But I’ve missed the battle seemingly.” Raising her arms, she presented herself to be admired. “Do you like it? I’ll wear it after we’re married, whenever we have a fight. Though I dare say your mother won’t approve-”
The elflord blenched, covered his pain by averting his face. “You look charming, my dear. And now I have asked your brother to take you home.”
“Well, of course. It’s almost dinnertime. We’re expecting you. After you’ve cleaned up-”
“There won’t be time, I’m afraid, my dear.” Taking the woman’s hand. Lord Durndrun pressed it to his lips. “Good-bye, Aleatha.” It seemed he meant to release her hand, but Aleatha caught hold of his, held him fast.
“What do you mean, saying ‘good-bye’ in that tone?” She tried to sound teasing, but fear tightened, strained her voice.
“Quindiniar.” Lord Durndrun gently removed the woman’s hand from his.
Paithan stepped forward, caught Aleatha by the arm. “We’ve got to go-”
Aleatha shook herself free. “Good-bye, My Lord,” she said coldly. Turning her back, she stalked off into the jungle.
“Thea!” Paithan called, worried. She ignored him, kept going. “Damn, she shouldn’t be wandering around alone-” He looked at Roland.
“Oh, all right,” muttered the man, and plunged into the trees.
“Paithan, I don’t understand. What’s going on?” asked Rega.
“I’ll tell you later. Somebody wake up the old man.” Paithan gestured irritably to Zifnab, who lay comfortably beneath a tree, snoring loudly. The elf glanced back at Lord Durndrun. “I’m sorry. My Lord. I’ll talk to her. I’ll explain.”