Serpent Mage by Weis, Margaret

“Thank the One,” Eliason murmured.

Devon had fallen asleep. Haplo led the elven king back outside the guesthouse.

“Alake and I took Devon for a walk,” Grundle was explaining to an attentive crowd. “I know I disobeyed you, Father”—the dwarf gave Yngvar a sidelong glance—”but Devon looked so unhappy and we thought this might cheer him—”

“Humpf!” Yngvar snorted. “Very well, Daughter. We will discuss your punishment later. For now, go on with your story.”

“Grundle and I wanted to speak to Devon alone,” Alake said. “There were too many people in the village, too much going on, and so we suggested a walk in the jungle. We talked and talked and it was hot and we were thirsty and then I noticed that one of the sugarjuice trees had fruit on it. I guess what happened was my fault, because I suggested that Devon climb up—”

“And he was nearly at the top,” inserted Grundle, gesturing dramatically, “when he slipped and down he went, headfirst into a tangle of chokevines.”

“They wrapped around his neck! He was caught. I … we didn’t know what to do!” Alake’s eyes were wide. “I couldn’t get him down. He was too far off the ground. Grundle and I ran back to the village to get help. The first person we found was Haplo. He came with us and cut Devon down from the vines.”

Alake looked at Haplo, standing on the edge of the crowd. Her eyes shone.

“He saved Devon’s life,” she said softly. “He used his magic and healed him! I saw it. Devon wasn’t breathing. The vines had wrapped around his neck. Haplo put his hands on him and his skin glowed blue and suddenly Devon opened his eyes and . . . he was alive.”

“Is this true?” Dumaka asked Haplo.

“She’s exaggerating, she was upset.” The Patryn shrugged. “The boy wasn’t dead. He was out cold. He would have come around. …”

“I was upset,” Alake said, smiling, “but I wasn’t exaggerating.”

Everyone began to talk at once: Yngvar halfheartedly scolded his daughter for running away. Delu stated that it was foolish to attempt to climb a sugarjuice tree by oneself and that Alake should have known better than to allow it. Eliason said he thought the girls showed good sense in running for help and that they should thank the One Haplo had been there to avert another tragedy.

“The One!” said Grundle, pouncing on the startled elven king. “Yes, you thank the One, who sent us this man”—she pointed her short, stubby finger at Haplo—”and then you turn around and toss the rest of the gifts the One provides into the Goodsea!”

Everyone in camp fell silent, stared at the dwarf maid.

“Daughter,” Yngvar began sternly.

“Hush!” Hilda counseled, treading on his foot. “The child makes sense.”

“And why will you throw these blessings away?” Grundle glared round at all of them. “Because you don’t understand them and so you’re afraid of them.” A scathing glance at the dwarves. “Or because you might have to fight to obtain them.” The elves came in for their share of her ire.

“Well, we decided—Alake, Devon, and I. We’re taking the sun-chaser with Haplo. We’re sailing to Surunan. We’ll go alone, if we have to—”

“No, you won’t, Grundle,” Hartmut said stoutly, coming to stand beside her. “I’ll go with you.”

“We’ll go!” cried several young humans and “We’ll come, too!” shouted numerous young elves.

The cry was taken up by almost all the young people around. Grundle exchanged glances with Alake. The dwarf-maid turned to her parents.

“Well, what have you started now, Daughter?” her father asked dourly. “Open rebellion against your own father?”

“I’m sorry, Father,” Grundle answered, flushing. “But I truly believe it’s for the best. You wouldn’t let our people freeze . . . or the humans …”

“Of course, he wouldn’t,” said Hilda. “Admit it, Yngvar. Your feet grew too big for your head. You were looking for a way to back down. Our daughter’s given you one. Will you take it?”

Yngvar rumpled his beard. “I don’t see that I have much choice,” he said, trying hard to frown and not quite succeeding. “The lass will be leading my own army against me, if I’m not careful.”

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