made you? Remember why?”
“Gavilan!” The queen was livid. The Elven Hunters stood
up abruptly from their work and looked back at her. The Owl
reappeared from out of the mist. Eowen moved to stand next to
the queen.
Gavilan held his ground a moment longer, then wheeled
away and stalked down to the raft. For a moment, no one else
moved, statues in the mist. Then Ellenroh said, to no one in
particular, her voice sounding small and lost, “I’m sorry.”
She walked off as well, sweeping Eowen up in her wake, her
youthful features so stricken that it kept Wren from following
after.
She looked instead at Stresa. The Splinterscat’s laugh was
bitter. “She doesn’t want us off the island. Fffttt. None of them
do.”
“Stresa, what is going on here?” Wren demanded, angry her-
self now, bewildered at the animosity Stresa’s appearance had
generated.
“Rrrwwll. Wren Ohmsford. Don’t you know? Hssst. You
don’t, do you? Ellenroh Elessedil is your grandmother, and you
don’t know. How strange!”
“Come, Wren,” the Owl said, passing by once more, touch-
ing her lightly on the shoulder. “Time to be going. Quick, now.”
The Elven Hunters were shoving the raft down to the water’s
edge, and the others were hastening after. “Tell me!” she snapped
at Stresa.
“A ride down the rwwlll Rowen is not my idea of a good
time,” the Splinterscat said, ignoring her. “I’ll sit directly in the
middle, if you please. Hsssttt. Or if you don’t, for that matter.”
A renewed series of shudders shook the island, and in the
haze behind them Killeshan erupted in a shower of crimson fire.
Ash and smoke belched out, and a rumbling rose from deep
within the earth.
They were all calling for Wren now, and she ran to them,
Stresa a step ahead, Faun draped about her neck. She was furi-
ous that no one would confide in her, that arguments could be
held in her presence about things of which she was being kept
deliberately ignorant. She hated being treated this way, and it
was becoming apparent that unless she forced the issue no one
was ever going to tell her anything about the Elves and Mor-
row i ndl.
She reached the raft as they were pushing it out into the
Rowen, meeting Gavilan’s openly hostile gaze with one of her
own, shifting deliberately closer to Garth. The Elven Hunters
were already in water up to their knees, steadying the raft. Stresa
hopped aboard without being asked and settled down squarely
in the middle of the backpacks and supplies, just as he had threat-
ened he would do. No one objected; no one said anything.
Eowen and the queen were guided to their places by Triss, the
queen clutching the Ruhk Staff tightly in both hands. Wren and
Garth followed. Together, the members of the little company
eased the raft away from the shoreline, leaning forward so that
its logs could bear the weight of their upper bodies, their hands
grasping the rope ties that had been fashioned to give them a
grip.
Almost immediately the current caught them up and began
to sweep them away. Those closest to the shore kicked in an
effort to move clear of the banks, away from the rocks and tree
roots that might snag them. Killeshan continued to erupt, fire
and ash spewing forth, the volcano rumbling its discontent. The
skies darkened with this new layer of vog, clouding farther
against the light. The raft moved out into the center of the
channel, rocking with the motion of the water, picking up speed.
The Owl shouted instructions to his companions, and they tried
in vain to maneuver the raft toward the far bank. Geysers burst
through the lava rock on the shoreline behind them, rupturing
the stone skin of the high country, sending steam and gas thrust-
ing skyward. The Rowen shuddered with the force of the earth’s
rumblings and began to buck. The waters turned choppy and
small whirlpools began to form. Debris swirled past, carried on
the crest of the river. The raft was buffeted and tossed, and
those clinging to it were forced to expend all of their efforts just