myself?
“Tell me the rest of how you came to Arborlon,” the queen
said softly, “and I will tell you what you are so anxious to know.
Do not be concerned with Eowen. Eowen already knows every-
thing that matters.”
So Wren related the balance of what had occurred on her
journey, all that involved the wolf thing that was Shadowen and
the discovery of the truth about the painted stones that her
mother had given her as a child. When she was done, when she
had told them everything, she folded her arms protectively, feel-
ing chilled by her own words, at the memories they invoked.
Then, impulsively, she rose and walked to where her discarded
clothing lay. Searching hurriedly through the tattered pieces,
she came upon the Elfstones, still tucked inside where she had
left them after entering the city. She carried them to the queen
and held them forth. “Here,” she offered. “Take them.”
But Ellenroh Elessedil shook her head. “No, Wren.” She
closed Wren’s fingers over the Elfstones and guided her hand to
a pocket of the sleeping gown. “You keep them for me,” she
whispered.
For the first time, Eowen Cerise spoke. “You have been very
brave, Wren.” Her voice was low and compelling. “Most would
not have been able to overcome the obstacles you faced. You
are indeed your mother’s child.”
“I see so much of Alleyne in her,” the queen agreed, her eyes
momentarily distant. Then she straightened, fixing her gaze on
Wren once more. “And you have been brave indeed. Allanon
was right in choosing you. But it was predetermined that you
should come, so I suppose that he was only fulfilling Eowen’s
promise.”
She saw the confusion in Wren’s eyes and smiled. “I know,
child. I speak in riddles. You have been very patient with me,
and it has not been easy. You are anxious to hear of your mother
and to discover why it is that you are here. Very well.”
The smile softened. “Three generations before my own birth,
while the Elves still lived within the Westland, several members
of the Ohmsford family, direct descendants of Jair Ohmsford,
decided to migrate to Arborlon. Their decision, as I understand
it, was prompted by the encroachment of the Federation on
Southland villages like Shady Vale and the beginnings of the
witch hunt to suppress magic. There were three of these Ohms-
fords, and they brought with them the Elfstones. One died
childless. Two married, but when the Elves chose to disappear
only one of the two went with them. The second, I was told, a
man, returned to Shady Vale with his wife. That would have
been Par and Coil Ohmsfords’ great-grandparents. The Ohms-
ford who remained was a woman, and she kept with her the
Elf stones.”
Ellenroh paused. “The Elfstones, Wren, as you know, were
formed in the beginning by Elven magic and could be used only
by those with Elven blood. The Elven blood had been bred out
of the Ohmsfords in the years since the death of Brin and Jair,
and they were of no particular use to those Ohmsfords who
kept custody of them. They decided therefore at some point
and by mutual agreement that the Stones belonged back with
the people who had made them-or, more properly, I suppose,
with their descendants. So when the three who came from Shady
Vale married and began their new lives, it was natural enough
for them to decide that the Elfstones, a trust to the Ohmsford
family from Allanon since the days of their ancestor Shea, should
remain with the Elves no matter what became of them person-
ally.
“In any case, the Elfstones disappeared when the Elves did,
and I suppose I need to say a word or two about that.” She
shook her head, remembering. “Our people had been receding
farther into the Westland forests for years. They had become
increasingly isolated from the other Races as the Federation ex-
pansion worked its way north. Some of that was their own do-
ing, but an equal share was the result of a growing belief, fostered
by the Federation’s Coalition Council, that the Elves were dif-
ferent and that different was not good. The Elves, after all, were