where she couldn’t see them, sneaking up until they were close
enough to .
She turned quickly and looked. There was nothing there. At
least, nothing within the limited range of her vision.
She turned back again. She knew suddenly that the things
in the darkness were waiting to see what she would do, trying
to ascertain how dangerous she might be. If she sat there long
enough they would grow impatient and decide to test her. She
wondered how much time she had. She wondered what it would
take to discourage them. If the monsters were here already, only
three nights off the beach, they would be there every night from
here on in, watching and waiting. And there would be others.
There were bound to be.
Wren’s blood pumped through her, racing as quickly as her
thoughts. Together, Garth and she were a match for most things.
But they could not afford to fight everything they came across.
The shadows had begun to move again, restless. She heard
murmurings, not words exactly, but something. She could feel
movement all about her, something other than the shadows,
things she could not see. The inhabitants of the jungle had dis-
covered them and were gathering. She heard a growl, low and
menacing. Beside her, Garth shifted in his sleep, turning away.
Wren’s face felt hot.
Do something, she whispered to herself. You have to do something.
She knew without looking that the shadows were behind her
now.
She felt a burning against her breast.
Almost without thinking, she reached down into her tunic
and removed the leather bag with the Elfstones. Swiftly, unwill-
ing to think about what she was doing, she shook the Stones
into her hand and quickly closed her fingers about them. She
could feel the shadows watching.
Just a hint of what they can do, she told herself. That should be
enough.
She stretched forth her hand and let her fingers open slightly.
The blue light of the Elfstones brightened. It gathered, a cold
fire, and issued forth in thin streamers to probe the darkness.
Instantly the shadows were gone. They disappeared so swiftly
and so completely that they might never have been there. The
sounds died into a hush. The world became a vacuum, and she
and Garth were all that remained within it.
She closed her fingers tightly again and withdrew her hand.
The shadows, whatever they were, knew something of Elven
magic.
Her instincts had told her that they would.
She was filled with a sudden bitterness. The Elfstones were
not a part of her life, she had insisted. Oh, no-not her life.
They belonged to someone else, not to her. How quick she had
been to tell herself so. And how quick to turn to them the
moment she felt threatened.
She slipped the Stones back into their container and shoved
it within her tunic again. The night was peaceful and still; the
mist was empty of movement. The things that lived on Morrow-
indl had gone in search of easier prey.
It was after midnight when she woke Garth. Nothing further
had appeared to threaten them. She did not tell Garth what had
happened. She wrapped herseli in her cloak and leaned back
against him.
It was a long time before she fell asleep.
THEY SET OUT AGAIN AT DAWN. Vog lay thick across the slopes
of Killeshan, and the light was thin and gray. Dampness filled
the air; it seeped up through the ground on which they walked,
penetrated the clothing they wore, and left them shivering.
After a time, the sun began to burn through the mist, and
some of the chill faded. Travel was slow and difficult, the
land uneven and broken, a series of ravines and ridges choked
by the jungle’s growth. Last night’s hush persisted, a sullen still-
ness that isolated the pair and spun webs of uneasiness all about
them.
At the edge of their vision, the shadows persisted, furtive,
cautious, a gathering of quick and formless ghosts that were
there until the instant you looked for them and then were gone.
Garth seemed oblivious to their presence, but Wren knew he
was not. As she stole a furtive glance at his dark face from time