Michael watched with interest. He had never seen elves before.
Neither, for that matter, had Aedan. They were certainly getting more than their share of new experiences.
They were dressed unlike the wizard. Gylvain wore a voluminous, ankle-length, dark cloak, with several unusual-looking amulets hanging on silver chains over an indigo-blue tunic, which was belted at the waist with a wide, black leather belt studded with silver ornaments.
He had on black hose and short, ankle-high, black shoes made from leather with the rough side out. The other elves, like Gylvain, all wore their hair extremely long, but they were dressed in green and brown, with roughout leather doublets and short cloaks. They all wore soft, roughout leather knee-high boots fastened with crisscrossing rawhide thongs and fringed at the tops. It was perfect dress for woodsmen, Aedan thought. They would blend in easily with the forest all around them.
Aedan closed his eyes and concentrated, drawing on his blood ability of healing to restore himself.
There had been no time before, and he had no energy, in any case. Now, he used what little energy remained to heal his wound and make his leg muscles relax. Unfortunately, it left him in an even more weakened condition, and he had no idea if there would be enough time to recuperate.
“I don’t see any horses,” Michael said after a moment. “Do you suppose they were all traveling on foot?”
“Except for Gylvain, perhaps,” Aedan replied. “I wonder what it’s like, being able to travel on the
wind.” And then the significance of Michael’s observation struck home.
They would have to walk all the way to Tuarhievel.
He estimated that they were probably somewhere near the southern border of the Five Peaks region.
On foot, it would be at least a three-or four-day journey to Tuarhievel, probably more, depending on the terrain. The thick, oldgrowth forest of the Aelvinnwode was not conducive to easy travel.
“It is said that elves have great powers of endurance,” Michael said,
“and that they can run like deer.”
“I do earnestly hope they have brought horses,” Aedan said anxiously.
“I have done quite enough running. I have healed my wounds, but it has left me with almost no strength at all. I am not sure I could walk another twenty yards, much less all the way to Tuarhievel.”
“There are still a few hours left till dawn, I think,” said Michael.
“Maybe they will camp awhile and you can rest up for the journey.”
Aedan sighed wearily. “A week’s rest would not be enough for me, at this point. I am absolutely exhausted.”
“I am tired, myself,” said Michael ‘ “and I have not suffered nearly as much as you have. I shall tell the wizard we must rest here awhile before we can go on.”
“Perhaps it would be better if you asked him,” Aedan said. “He has been most respectful, but remember he is still an elf and owes you no allegiance.”
“True,” said Michael. “Thank you for reminding me. I must learn how not to take such things for granted.”
Aedan glanced at him curiously. The boy was full of surprises. When it came to Michael, Aedan himself had taken much for granted. He had always considered Michael a spoiled child, which he certainly was in many ways-arrogant, willful, petulant, and stubborn. Yet whatever Michael’s shortcomings were, cowardice was apparently not among them.
He had proved himself brave, steady, and resourceful. In the face of adversity, he had comported himself more ably than Aedan had, despite being six years younger. He truly did have the makings of a king. The fate of Imperial Anuire was in ood t hands-provided they ever got back.
The wizard finished speaking to the others and returned to them.
Michael looked up at him curiously, and though Aedan tried to keep the concern he felt from showing on his features, judging from Gylvain’s expression, he was not entirely successful.
“Allow me to reassure you that there is no need for concern,” the wizard said. “I have said you shall be my guests at the court of Tuarhievel, and guests you shall be, treated with all due respect and courtesy. And as soon as possible, you shall be returned to your own land, and under proper escort.”
“I thank you, Sir Wizard,” Michael said, “both for your offer of hospitality and again for saving us from our captors. Rest assured, we shall not forget.”
“I am pleased to hear that, Your Highness,” Gylvain replied. “And I would be pleased if you addressed me simply by my name, rather than ‘Sir Wizard.” I am neither titled, nor a knight. And we elves do not stand on such formality.”
“Very well, Gylvain,” said Michael. “Then you must call me Michael.”
The elf smiled at that.
“And as I am in no position to presume upon your allegiance Michael continued, ‘I would humbly request a favor of you.”
“Ask, and I shall grant it, if it is within my power,” Gylvain replied.
“We are both tired, but Aedan is utterly exhausted. The goblins forced him to run after their wolves for the better part of the day. His legs are cramping and causing him pain, and he is weary from healing a wound he sustained. You may be anxious to return to Tuarhievel, but for my friend’s sake, I would plead with you to allow us time to rest.” “That was well spoken,” Gylvain replied, nodding with approval. “Never fear, however, I shall not trouble you to walk all the way to Tuarhievel.”
“You have horses, then?” said Aedan, brightening.
“Elves can move more quickly through the forest on foot than they can on horseback,” Gylvain replied. “However, there is no need for us to travel through the forest when we can go above it.”
“Above it?” Aedan said.
Gylvain smiled. “Observe,” he said. He lifted up his cloak and spoke a phrase in Elvish. As he did so, he stepped close to them and wrapped the cloak around them both, embracing them within its folds.
Unable to see within the dark folds of the cloak, Aedan suddenly felt his feet leave the ground. He grew lightheaded and dizzy as he felt himself turning around and around in midair, faster and faster, until he was whirling like a child’s top and, at the same time, rising higher and higher. He wanted to cry out in alarm, but his breath caught in his throat.
As they spun within the vortex, he heard the whistling sound of wind, rising rapidly in pitch, like a storm blowing through the treetops, then lost all sense of his body. It wasn’t as if he had gone completely numb; it was as if his body had somehow simply ceased to exist. He tried to bring his hands up to his face, to feel if he still had a face, for there was absolutely no sensation of the wind upon his skin, or the chill of the night air. However, when he tried to move his arms, he realized with an abrupt stab of panic that he had no arms to move, nor legs, for that matter. He couldn’t feel anything because there was nothing there to feel. And then, abruptly, the blackness faded and he could see. It would have taken his breath away if he’d had lungs to breathe with.
They were high above the forest clearing where they’d stood a moment earlier, and the treetops were falling away rapidly beneath them. He heard the rush of wind, though he was not sure how, s ince he was not aware of having ears. Nor was he sure how he could see, with no eyes to squint against the swirling wind.
It was still dark, and yet, below him, he could clearly make out the elves moving through the forest, appearing and disappearing once again as they ran through the open spaces between the trees and then were once again obscured from view by the forest canopy. At first, he thought there were more of them than the dozen or so he had first seen, but then he realized he was seeing the same ones, only they were moving with astonishing speed. He could not believe how quickly they were darting through the trees. It was, indeed, true what they said about elves’
being able to run like deer. If he were on the ground with them, even if he were fully rested, he knew he could never have hoped to keep pace.
No human could ever run that fast.
His p
erceptions had changed completely. They were high above the forest now, and yet he could see perfectly, despite the darkness. In fact, he realized, he wasn’t really seeing, because his human eyes did not possess the night vision of the elves. Moreover, he could see all around him without moving his head. Indeed, he had no head to move.
His physical body had melted away somehow, vaporized like the morning dew, and what he was perceiving was registering not upon his senses, but directly upon his awareness.
The only time he had ever felt anything like it was on those occasions when he was asleep and dreamed he had somehow left his body and was hovering above it, looking down and seeing himself lying there in bed.
He did not know why he had such dreams and was grateful they did not come more often, for they were profoundly unsettling. They always seemed so real, it was as if he could actually feel himself floating in midair, just below the ceiling, and there was always that strange, alarming, vertiginous sensation of his body falling away from him.
The feeling he had now was very similar, only this time, it persisted and there was no ceiling to stop him. They kept rising higher and higher, and now he had no sense of spinning, just an eerie sensation of floating, of feeling completely weightless and free, like a bird soaring high above the forest. At that moment, it suddenly occurred to him that maybe he had died, and the realization struck with absolute terror, the more so because he felt completely helpless, unable to do anything about it. Panic gripped him as he thought of himself rising forever, never to return to earth.
Have no fear, Gylvain’s voice came from somewhere very close. You are not dead. You have merely been transmogrified by magic. You have become one with the air currents upon which we soar. There is no reasonfor alarm. We are the wind, and here in the skies, we are in our element. t It’s wonderful! Michael’s excited voice came to him as if he were shouting gleefully right into his ear, except it didn’t feel as if he actually heard him, more as if Michael were a part of him, within him somehow. It’s fantastic! Oh, Aedan, look! We’re flying, just like birds! We’reflying!
Have no fear? thought Aedan. How was it possible that Michael could not be afraid? Was it just his youth, or was the emotion of fear something he completely lacked? Despite Gylvain’s reassurances, it seemed they’d died and their souls were rising up into the heavens! It was the most frightening experience Aedan had ever known, and yet to Michael, it was a joyous thing, a new adventure, and Aedan felt his wild exhilaration. Felt it! It was only then that Aedan realized he was not actually hearing their voices; he was somehow privy to their thoughts, as they were aware to his. Transformed into the wind, they were all one, together, mingled with each other in the swirling air currents that swept above the forest.
Yes, we are all one, Gylvain replied to his unvoiced thoughts, one with the wind. One with the power Of nature. This is the true kingdom, one that is not subject to
the rule of emperors or princes. It is the kingdom we are all a part of… the kingdom of the elementalforces that shape the world and shape us all.
They swept over the treetops with a speed unlike anything Aedan had ever imagined. But how? he thought. How is this possible?
Magic, Gylvain’s thoughts replied. Magic makes all things possible to those who apprehend the possibilities.
But did you not say that once a spell was used, it was forgotten?
Michael asked.
That is so, Gylvain replied. But there are no fewer than a score of different spells for windwalking, and I devote myself to constant study of my arts. I am forever learning spells and losing them and learning them again.
That is the way of magic, as indeed it is the way of all things in the world. To pursue the ways of knowledge is to forever be a student, learning the same lessons over and over again. It is a never-ending process, and the reward of it is the process itself. Weforget too easily, and must always learn again. The study of magic is an apt metaphor for life; when one stops learning, one begins to die.
Between the reassuring presence of the wizard and Michael’s boundless joy and exhilaration at their flight, Aedan’s fear began to ebb, to be replaced by a growing sense of awe. He did not feel the wind of their swift passage through the skies: he was the wind, and far below him, the Aelvinnwode was like a vast green carpet stretching out across the land.
In the distance, he could see the mountains of the Five Peaks region, and to the northwest, he could make out the rapidly approaching forest highlands of the goblin realm of Thurazor. But for the elves, that would have been their destination. Now, however, they swept past the land of their late captors and lag continued in a northeastern heading, past the rugged Stonecrown Mountains toward the elven kingdom of Tuarhievel.
It did not seem possible that they could have covered so much distance in so short a time, but when Aedan saw the first gray light of dawn appear over the horizon, he realized much more time had passed than he had thought. Hours had somehow seemed like only moments as he was caught in the fascination of the spectacle unfolding far below him, seeing the world the way a hawk would see it, or an eagle.
From the sky, he watched the sunrise, its rays casting an expanding band of light over the forest and the rolling, rugged country of the Northern Marches.
His initial fear became forgotten as he was mesmerized by the beauty of the land waking up to a new day.
The forest seemed to slowly rise up toward them, and he realized they were descending. They were still moving forward with great speed, but they were gradually angling down, and soon he was able to make out birds flitting among the uppermost tree branches, oblivious to their presence.
As they went lower still, a flock of doves rose up out of the trees, ascending toward them. Aedan could not get over the experience of birds flying up toward him. The flock flew closer with a fluttering of white wings in the early morning sun and then, amazingly, the doves passed through them! They were all around him, and even within him, soaring on the wind currents, and Aedan could actuallyfeel their hearts beating.
Then the doves were above them, and they descended lower still, barely skimming the treetops, which bent with their passage. It was dreamlike and
surreal as they swept over the forest, rushing smoothly through the sky above the forest canopy. Not even in his dreams had Aedan ever experienced anything like this. Surely, he thought, this was what it felt like to be a bird. As a child, he had often watched birds and wished he were capable of flight. Now he was doing it. And for a moment or two, while the doves had flown with them, he had experienced their feelings and sensations, too.
He had always thought that wizards lived their lives in dark and musty rooms, dimly illuminated by candles set in skulls, that they spent all their time puttering about with ancient manuscripts and arcane scrolls and breathing in the sulfurous fumes of their mystic potions while they squinted in the smoke from their incense burners. This, however, was magic of a different sort. Elven magic.
It made him wish his course in life had not been predetermined from his birth, for if this were what elven magic could accomplish, he would have become an eager student of it. He wondered if elven mages would accept human apprentices, and even as the thought occurred to him, Gylvain responded.
Elven magic is for elves alone, the mage replied. If we were to teach it to humans, it would no longer belong only to us, and the possibilityfor its misuse would be too great.
just as no human wizard would ever take an elf as an apprentice, so no elven mage would ever teach a human.
But are not the principles of human and elven magic the same? asked Aedan.
Indeed, they are, Gylvain responded. However, the disciplines are different, as are the spells. And we are not yet so trusting of each other that we may reveal all our secrets. Someday, perhaps.
But not today, thought Aedan, realizing the wizard’s rely served as a pointed reminder of their situation. Elves and humans were far from friends, and the peace between them was still a fragile one. It would be a long ti
me before elves and humans were able to trust one another, if that day ever came. The memory of how the humans had invaded elven lands and took them for their own was still painfully fresh among the elven kingdoms, and with the Manslayer still actively pursuing the gheallie Sidhe in these very woods, the days of humans falling to elven blades and arrows were far from over.
Nor are the days of elves falling to human blades and arrows, Gylvain replied, reminding him once again that while they were joined in the spell of windwalking, he was privy to their thoughts, while his own, unless he wished them known, were somehow guarded.
When I am emperor, I shall decree an end to that, Michael replied.
Would that our problems could be solved so simply, the wizard responded.
You mayfind when you ascend the Iron Throne that there can be vast differences between what a ruler wishes to do and what he is able to do.
I wish you luck in those days to come. Butfor the present, I bid you welcome to the elven city of Tuarhievel.
And suddenly there it was, directly ahead of them, appearing out of the forest as if out of thin air.
Accustomed to the way human cities were constructed, Aedan was unprepared for the sight that greeted him as they came upon Tuarhievel.
When humans built cities, they chose sites for favorable terrain features and then cleared vast areas of land in preparation for the construction of the roads and buildings and market plazas. The defensive walls and fortifications required clear approaches so that potential attackers would be exposed as they advanced. Nature, in other words, made way for human cities.
Elves, on the other hand, followed an entirely different philosophy of building.
Tuarhievel simply rose up out of the forest. The clear-cutting was minimal, and wherever possible, the trees had been left standing so that the forest and the city were all one, a melding of natural features and construction. From a distance, it would have been impossible to spot the city, and Aedan thought it likely that unless a traveler knew the way exactly, he could easily pass within a hundred yards of Tuarhievel and never even see it.
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