“Yes. I know how that is.” Aleatha gathered the flower petals in her lap, unconsciously forming them into a miniature grave.
“I wanted to cheer him up, so I said the first jolly thing that popped into my mind. ‘Why not send for a human priest?’ I said. They know an awfully lot about the stars, ’cause that’s where they think they come from. Claim that the stars are really cities and all that rot. Well”-Paithan appeared modestly pleased with himself-“it perked the old boy right up. I hadn’t seen him so excited since the day his rocket flew into the city and blew up the garbage dump.”
“It’s all very well for you, Pait!” Aleatha irritably scattered her flowers to the wind. “You get to go off on another one of your trips. But Callie and I will have to live with the brute! That lecherous old astrologer of Father’s is bad enough without this.”
“I’m sorry, Thea. I really didn’t think.” Paithan sounded and felt truly ashamed. The one bright spark that burned in all of Quindiniars was their love and affection for each other- an affection that, unfortunately, did not extend to the rest of the world.
Reaching out, Paithan took his sister’s hand in his and squeezed it. “Besides, no human priest will ever come. I know them, you see and-”
The moss bed rose up suddenly beneath their feet and then settled back down. The bench on which they were sitting shook and shivered, a pronounced rippling effect marred the smooth and placid surface of the lake. A rumbling sound like thunder, which came from below rather than above, accompanied the ground’s shudder.
“That wasn’t a storm,” said Aleatha, looking about in alarm.
Shouts and screams could be heard in the distance.
Paithan rose to his feet, his expression suddenly grave. “I think, Thea, that we had better move back to the house.” He gave his hand to his sister. Aleatha moved with calm alacrity, gathering her flowing skirts around her in unruffled haste.
“What do you think it is?”
“I haven’t the vaguest idea,” Paithan answered, hurrying through the garden. “Ah, Durndrun! What’s this? Some new form of party game?”
“I only wish it were!” The lord appeared considerably harried. “It’s sent a big crack through the dining room wall and frightened Mother into hysterics.”
The rumbling began again, this time stronger. The ground bucked and quivered. Paithan staggered back against a tree. Aleatha, pale but composed, clung to a hanging vine. Lord Durndrun toppled over, and was almost struck by a falling piece of statuary. The quake lasted for as long as a man might draw three deep breaths, then ceased. A strange smell wafted up from the moss-the smell of chill, dank dampness. The smell of darkness. The smell of something that lives in the darkness.
Paithan moved to help the lord to his feet.
“I think,” said Durndrun in an undertone meant for Paithan’s ears alone, “that we should arm ourselves.”
“Yes,” agreed Paithan, glancing askance at his sister and keeping his voice low. “I was about to suggest that myself.”
Aleatha heard and understood. Fear tingled through her, a rather pleasant sensation. It was certainly adding interest to what she had expected to be an otherwise boring evening.
“If you gentlemen will excuse me,” she said, adjusting the brim of her hat to best advantage, “I will go to the house and see if I may be of assistance to the dowager.”
‘Thank you, Mistress Quindiniar. I would appreciate it. How brave she is,” Lord Durndrun added, watching Aleatha walking fearlessly alone toward the house. “Half the other women are shrieking and flinging themselves about and the other half have dropped over in a dead faint. Your sister is a remarkable woman!”
“Yes, isn’t she,” said Paithan, who saw that his sister was enjoying herself immensely. “What weapons have you got?”
Hastening toward the house, the lord glanced at the young elf running along beside him. “Quindiniar”-Durndrun edged nearer, took him by the arm-“you don’t think this has anything to do with those rumors you told us of the other night. You know, the ones about … er … giants?”
Paithan appeared slightly shamefaced. “Did I mention giants? By Orn, that was strong wine you were serving that night, Durndrun!”