Dragons of Winter Night - Margaret Weis [48]
Even as Tanis’s heart expanded with relief to know Laurana and the others were safe, it contracted with fear and grief for Sturm.
9
Silvanesti. Entering the dream.
The third day, they continued their journey, flying into the sunrise. They had lost the dragons, apparently, although Tika, keeping watch behind, thought she could see black dots upon the horizon. And that afternoon, as the sun was sinking behind them, they neared the river known as Thon-Thalas—Lord’s River—which divided the outside world from Silvanesti.
All of his life, Tanis had heard of the wonder and beauty of the ancient Elven Home, though the elves of Qualinesti spoke of it without regret. They did not miss the lost wonders of Silvanesti, for the wonders themselves became a symbol of the differences that had developed between the elven kin.
The elves in Qualinesti lived in harmony with nature, developing and enhancing its beauty. They built their homes among the aspens, magically gilding the trunks with silver and gold. They built their dwellings of shimmering rose quartz, and invited nature to come dwell with them.
The Silvanesti, however, loved uniqueness and diversity in all objects. Not seeing this uniqueness existing naturally, they reshaped nature to conform to their ideal. They had patience and they had time, for what were centuries to elves whose life spans measured in the hundreds of years? And so they reformed entire forests, pruning and digging, forcing the trees and flowers into fantastic gardens of incredible beauty.
They did not ‘build’ dwellings, but carved and molded the marble rock that existed naturally in their land into such strange and wondrous shapes that—in the years before the races were estranged—dwarven craftsmen traveled thousands of miles to view them, and then could do nothing but weep at the rare beauty. And, it was said, a human who wandered into the gardens of Silvanesti could not leave, but stayed forever, enraptured, caught in a beautiful dream.
All this was known to Tanis only through legend, of course, for none of the Qualinesti had set foot in their ancient home since the Kinslayer wars. No human, it was believed, had been allowed in Silvanesti since a hundred years before that.
“What about the stories,” Tanis asked Alhana as they flew above the aspens on the backs of the griffons, “the stories of humans trapped by the beauty of Silvanesti, unable to leave? Do my friends dare go to this land?”
Alhana glanced back at him.
“I knew humans were weak,” she said coldly, “but I did not think they were that weak. It is true humans do not come to Silvanesti, but that is because we keep them out. We certainly wouldn’t want to keep any in. If I thought there was danger of that, I would not allow you into my homeland.”
“Not even Sturm?” he couldn’t help asking wryly, nettled by her stinging tone.
But he was not prepared for the answer. Alhana twisted to face him, whipping around so fast her long black hair flailed his skin. Her face was so pale with anger, it seemed translucent and he could see the veins pulse beneath her skin. Her dark eyes seemed to swallow him in their black depths.
“Never speak of that to me!” she said through clenched teeth and white lips. “Never speak of him!”
“But last night—” Tanis faltered, astonished, putting his hand to his burning cheek.
“Last night never happened,” Alhana said. “I was weak, tired, frightened. As I was when … when I met Sturm, the knight. I regret speaking of him to you. I regret telling you of the Starjewel.”
“Do you regret giving it to him?” Tanis asked.
“I regret the day I set foot in Tarsis,” Alhana said in a low, passionate voice. “I wish I had never gone there! Never!” She turned away abruptly, leaving Tanis to dark thoughts.
The companions had just reached the river, within sight of the tall Tower of the Stars, shining like a strand of pearls twisting into the sun, when the griffons suddenly halted their flight. Tanis, glancing ahead, could see no sign of danger. But their griffons continued to descend rapidly.
Indeed, it