Barsimmon Oridio materialized out of the blackness, went
directly to the queen, spoke to her in hushed tones for a few
minutes, and then disappeared again. He looked haggard and
worn, but there was determination in his step.
“How long have you been going out there?” she asked the
Owl suddenly, not looking at him. “Out with them.”
There was a hesitation. He knew what she meant. She could
feel his eyes fixing on her. “I don’t know anymore.”
“What I want to know, I guess, is how you made yourself
do it. I can barely make myself go even this once, knowing
what’s out there.” She swallowed against the admission. “I mean,
I can do it because it’s the only choice, and I won’t have to do
it again. But you had a choice each time, before this. You must
have thought better of it more than once. You must not have
wanted to go.”
“Wren.” She turned when he spoke her name and faced him.
Let me tell you something you haven’t learned yet, something
you learn only by living awhile. As you get older, you find that
life begins to wear you down. Doesn’t matter who you are or
what you do, it happens. Experience, time, events-they all con-
spire against you to steal away your energy, to erode your con-
fidence, to make you question things you wouldn’t have given
a second thought to when you were young. It happens gradu-
ally, a chipping away that you don’t even notice at first, and
then one day it’s there. You wake up and you just don’t have
the fire anymore.”
He smiled faintly. “Then you have a choice. You can either
give in to what you’re feeling, just say ‘okay, enough is enough’
and be done with it, or you can fight it. You can accept that
every day you’re alive you’re going to have to face it down, that
you’re going to have to say to yourself that you don’t care what
you feel, that it doesn’t matter what happens to you because
sooner or later it is going to happen anyway, that you’re going
to do what you have to because otherwise you’re defeated and
life doesn’t have any real purpose left. When you can do that,
little Wren, when you can accept the wearing down and the
eroding, then you can do anything. How did I manage to keep
going out nights? I just told myself I didn’t matter all that much-
that those in here mattered more. You know something? It’s not
so hard really. You just have to get past the fear.”
She thought about it a minute and then nodded. “I think you
make it sound a lot easier than it is.”
The Owl lifted off the wall. “Do I?” he asked. Then he
smiled anew and walked away.
Wren drifted back over to stand with Garth. The big Rover
pointed to the ramparts of the Keel. Elven Hunters were coming
down off the heights-furtive, silent figures easing out of the
light and down into the shadows. Wren glanced eastward and
saw the first faint tinge of dawn against the black.
“It is time,” Ellenroh said suddenly, and motioned them to-
ward the wall.
They moved quickly, Aurin Striate in the lead, pulling open
the doorway that led down into the tunnels, pausing at the entry
to look back at the queen. Ellenroh had moved away from the
wall to the bridgehead, stopping just before she reached its ramp
to plant the butt end of the Ruhk firmly in the earth. From
somewhere within Arborlon a bell tolled, a signal, and those few
Elven Hunters who remained atop the Keel slipped hurriedly
away. In seconds, the wall was deserted.
Ellenroh Elessedil glanced back at the eight who waited just
once, then turned to face the city. Her hands clasped the
polished shaft of the Ruhk, and her head lowered.
Instantly the Loden began to glow. The brightness grew rap-
idly to white fire, flaring outward until the queen was envel-
oped. Steadily the light continued to spread, rising up against
the darkness, filling the space within the walls until all of Ar-
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