Finally, exhausted, Moira led Wiz into a thicket. There was a hollow in the center as if once long ago a tree had been uprooted there. Together they cowered and panted in the little crater beneath the bushes and listened to the sounds of pursuit echoing through the forest.
Dared they stay here? Wiz wanted to ask but he was afraid to make a sound. Besides, he didn’t think he would like the answer. Unbidden, Moira’s words on the first day came back to him. If you have a choice between the worst death you can imagine and falling into the hands of the League, do everything in your power to die. Had they really come to that? he thought, looking over at Moira.
Suddenly something hissed in Wiz’s ear like a disturbed snake. Wiz jumped.
“Hsst,” came the sound again. “Hsst, Lady, over here.” He turned and stared but saw nothing. Then part of the bush seemed to twist and coalesce and a tiny man stood beckoning to them where a second before there had been only moonlight and branches. He was clad in a pointed cap, tunic and breeks with pointed shoes. Wiz could not tell the color in the dim light.
“Come this way. Quickly.” The little being turned and skipped through the undergrowth. Moira started to follow but Wiz caught her arm. “Trap?” he panted.
Moira scowled and shook off his hand. She hurried after the little man, who was dancing with impatience.
Wiz was half-blown when they started, but he pushed ahead gamely. The trail led through glades and over ridges until at last they arrived at the base of a hill. As their guide approached, a rock rolled away and pale golden light flooded out into the dark.
“Enter and be welcome,” said a melodious male voice from within.
Again Moira started forward and again Wiz caught her arm.
“Didn’t you tell me to avoid places like this?”
“Would you rather the trolls and Dire Beasts?” she snapped. Wiz nodded and followed her into the hill.
“May there be peace upon you. May you leave the woes of the World behind,” the voice said, as if reciting a formula.
“May there be confusion to our enemies and may we return to the world we know,” Moira said firmly into the air.
“May it be so,” responded the voice and their host seemed to step out of the wall of the tunnel to them.
He was tall, graceful and silver-haired. His eyes were so blue as to be almost purple and his skin was the color of milk. Wiz could see the blue veins underneath.
He wore a long tunic of scarlet, intricately worked, and a collar of beaten gold. His belt was dark leather decorated with bronze the length around.
“My Lady,” he bowed to Moira. “My Lord,” he nodded to Wiz.
“My Lord.” Moira dropped a deep curtsey.
“My Lord,” Repeated Wiz and made a clumsy bow. He barely noticed that the rock had slid silently back across the entrance, sealing them within.
Their host regarded them serenely. “I am called Aelric. I am duke of this place and I bid you welcome here.”
“We thank you for your hospitality, Lord,” Moira said. “I am called Moira and this one is called Sparrow.”
Duke Aelric looked narrowly at Wiz. “Ahhh,” he said simply, but with a world of meaning.
“You have heard of us then, Lord?”
“A mite.” The elf duke made a languid gesture. “But there will be time for talk later. I hope you will do me the pleasure of dining with me this evening.”
“We would be honored, Lord,” Moira said.
“Let it be so then.” Duke Aelric snapped his fingers and their guide capered out and bowed low to his master.
“Most dread Lord, most gracious Lady, if you will deign to follow me?” The little creature turned and moved down the tunnel. Duke Aelric touched his fingertips to his forehead and faded back into the rock. Wiz gaped until Moira jabbed him with her elbow. Then he followed her and their guide down the corridor.
Wiz’s shoes squeaked on tessellated marble floors inlaid in fantastic patterns. Over his head columns of scarlet and gold soared upward until lost in the gloom. Here and there an elaborately carved lantern cast a gentle yellow glow through its alabaster panes, making the light more mellow rather than brighter. Occasionally the glint of gold added accent and unostentatious richness to their surroundings.