"Such as yourself? Steady!" Hilel cooed to the horse pacing on three legs. "Would you become a mounted barbarian? A dragoon or lancer, perhaps? Or a carter hauling loads of shoes and ale?" He laughed out loud.

"No, not I," Sunbright smiled. "I just wonder… Never mind. Who comes?"

At a trot clipped Hilel's oldest son, a brawny young man named Micah. His canvas vest was laced tight yet bulged. When he reined in, he dug in his vest, withdrew a flat rock, and handed it to Sunbright.

The shaman studied the black rock, which was polished on one side and delicately etched with an odd design. Brushing off dirt, Sunbright saw two thin elves with high-pointed ears who talked amidst unrecognizable glyphs. "Where did you get this?" he asked.

"A dwarf found it," Micah explained. "They enlarged the area around Drigor's forge and turned up this stone. It was the only black one. What shall we do with it?"

"Give it to the elves," Sunbright ordered. "It may be important to them."

"Oh. Could-could you return it?" Micah made a face. "I don't fancy riding into the woods. I'm leery of elves. Too many stories of how they drink blood and steal babies-"

"Forget those," Sunbright cut him off waving a hand. "Everyone's heard such rumors, but no one's ever suffered such. Just ride up the vale into the woods, and call across the river. Give it to any elf. 'Twill benefit all of us. They'll be grateful we value their artifacts and make efforts to return them, and your family will prosper from their good will."

"How?" asked the boy doubtfully.

"Just do it," Hilel ordered. "The shaman speaks true. An unexpected favor is returned doubly, our ancestors say. And the gods chalk them against your name. Now get along, or you'll be late for supper."

Frowning, Micah obeyed, clucking and thumping his heels to aim the horse for the barbarian camp. The men watched him go.

Hilel huffed, "You have some scheme up your sleeve, friend Sunbright. I thought I was a cagey trader, and always got the best of a deal, but you're a master. I only wish I could fathom your scheme and somehow profit by it." He added a laugh to pull any sting of accusation.

Sunbright laughed also. "You praise me highly, friend Hilel," he said. "I'm just a simple shaman seeing after the welfare of my people, and hardly good at it, but I do have some simple ideas, and if they pan out…" His words ran out as he gazed along the ravine toward the distant prairie. Something turned over in his mind so he finished aloud,"… But if not, even the gods may be powerless to aid us."

Chapter 19

"Aaaaarrrggghhhh!!!"

The monster Sysquemalyn hefted the black scrying table and hurled it against the cave wall. It shattered into a thousand fragments. The flint creature raged, smashed stalactites with iron fists, blew fire like a dragon, and shot frost from her fingertips. The cave grew murky with smoke and steam and rock dust.

Nothing, she raged, neither scrying device nor spell could penetrate the depths of an elven forest. Damn all ancient peoples and their unfathomable defenses! Yet Sunbright must be hiding among elves, for she couldn't locate him anywhere else.

"He hides because he fears me!" she ranted. "Because I've killed all my enemies and wounded an empire! Candlemas is deader than dead, his soul expunged from the spheres! Polaris, the screaming, putrid cow, was reduced to blubbering terror before I pitched her into the blackest of holes! But Sunbright, a simple, stupid barbarian, eludes me! I should visit him in person, tear his lungs out, blind him-"

An idea struck. Why not seek him out? Her work here was done. By donning the guise of the One King, she'd stirred up hordes of orcs and other villains, wounded the Netherese Empire sorely, butchered thousands of innocents, and lured Lady Polaris to a horrible quasi-life. But she needed the One King no longer. She could turn her attentions to "Sunbright!" The stony creature raised wicked claws. "Prepare yourself! I come in person to bring you agony and slow, painful death!"

And crossing scarecrow arms, she vanished.

Sunbright indeed walked the High Forest of the Moon Elves. But not to hide. To seek.

An elf named Blessedseed guided him and Knucklebones through the forest. A good thing, for these woods were enchanted and Sunbright knew he'd lose his way alone.

He'd seen many forests, but this one was magical. Even in winter the oaks and birches and maples seemed alive, not dormant, glowing and vibrant with health. The sun shone brighter through their branches, as if through ice crystals, yet the earth felt warm to the touch, for snow never lingered long. Despite a chill, the air possessed a sweet tang, as in maple-sugaring season, and deer and foxes and even shaggy wood-bisons watched them pass, showing neither fear nor interest. How could that be? Sunbright wondered, when the elves killed game like anyone else?

More incredibly, how had he once passed through this forest without seeing its otherworldly beauty? For as a boy, banished from this tribe, he'd crossed the Barren Mountains and cut through this forest toward the heart of the empire. But on that journey he'd seen no elves, and sensed no magic. Was it true what men said, that an elven wood wasn't part of a man's world, but rather a shadow realm that existed side by side, unseen unless the inhabitants wanted it to show? If so, where were they now? Sunbright shook his head as if to dislodge idle ramblings. He needed to concentrate on his mission.

If the elves had a city, or town center, or if that elven queen owned a castle or mead hall, Sunbright never saw it. Blessedseed led them over rill and vale along narrow and ancient trails. In some places the paths were worn knee-deep. Where they crossed oak roots, soft elven soles had polished inches deep into tough wood. Occasionally they passed wigwams of branches, or glimpsed tree huts high up, or saw paths wending toward caves trickling smoke. Sunbright guessed these elves didn't have proper homes, only sleeping hollows and nests like birds and badgers. Perhaps they simply lived outside year round. When he asked the guide, Blessedseed only smiled, so Sunbright gave up wondering. He had more important questions.

"There."

In the silent forest, the elf's quiet word startled him. The archer pointed out a trail to a hogback ridge. Sunbright peered. There seemed only tangled rhododendron atop the ridge. Then he saw a dark slit, hardly wide enough for a fox, and he asked, "That's her home?"

"Yes," said the elf. "I shall wait here."

"We might be a while," the shaman warned.

"I shall wait here." Blessedseed leaned against a tree, folded his arms, and scanned the sky as if reading a book.

Shaking his head over these queer and muzzy-headed fairies, Sunbright strode up the trail. He had almost forgotten Knucklebones followed, looking out of place in her lion skin coat. Her voice startled him.

"Are you sure you want what you might find?"

"What?" The shaman turned, fuddled, and said, "Of course I want to know! I've wanted to know since forever. Years, now."

Knucklebones's one eye stared at the ground. "I hope the answer makes you happy."

Sunbright didn't understand her comment, nor her reticence. Grabbing her hand for clumsy comfort, he towed her to the slit in the tangled bracken, and squeezed through.

The cramped chamber looked like the inside of a wicker basket, dark and smoke-stained, though without fire. In the chilly dimness, Sunbright thought the hovel deserted. Then he noticed a white glow illuminated by leaks of light through brush, and feared the owner had died, it was so cold in here.

"M-Milady Brookdweller?"