Heirs of Prophecy - Lisa Smedman [41]
As darkness descended on the forest for the second time since their journey began, the elves at last stopped to make camp. They gathered clumps of pale green moss that hung from tree branches, long and lacy as an old man's beard, and formed it into nestlike pillows. They splashed their sweaty faces in a nearby stream, stretched their muscles, and ate a cold supper of leathery slabs of dried mushroom and a cold paste made by adding water t(a powder of dried fish. Then they sank cross-legged onto the moss, weapons within hand's reach on the forest floor beside them, and sank into the meditative state unique to elves, known as the Reverie.
As Doriantha settled down beside her, Larajin fought to keep her eyes open just a little longer. A question burned inside her, one she'd been wanting the answer for ever since they'd set out but had no time to ask.
"Doriantha," she said, "you said I looked nothing like my brother. Did Mast-" She paused, and amended what she had been about to say. In the woods, she was a servant no longer, answerable only to herself. It didn't feel right using the title "master," anymore. "Did Thamalon the Younger or Talbot ever visit the Tangled Trees?"
Larajin could see little of Doriantha's face, save for the dark line of the tattoo across her nose and cheeks, and the glint of her eyes. It was impossible to tell what her expression was.
"The names you mention," Doriantha said quietly, "are these the children of Thamalon Uskevren?"
"Yes. He has two sons and a daughter."
"Full-blood human?"
"Yes, all three." Larajin yawned, blinking sleep-heavy eyes.
They are only half-sister and half-brothers to you, then." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "No, I was speaking of your twin."
Exhausted as she was, it took Larajin a moment to fully appreciate what Doriantha had just said. When she did, she sat up, all thoughts of sleep having fled.
"I have a twin brother?" she exclaimed.
Rustling noises told her that she had disturbed some of the other elves with her outburst. She could see Doriantha shaking her head and gesturing for silence, but she didn't care. The news was amazing, almost impossible to believe. She wondered what her twin brother looked like. Was he, like her, struggling with the question of whether he was elf, or human, or something in-between? Or had he known of his mixed heritage all along?
A stray thought stopped her cold.
"Doriantha," she whispered. "Is my brother still alive?"
Doriantha glanced around. "Please-you must keep your voice low. Some of the others might understand what you say."
Larajin nodded, and Doriantha went on. "As far as I know, your twin is still alive. He was hale and hearty, when I last saw him several days ago."
"Where is he now?"
"As to that…" Doriantha paused, and in the starlit darkness, Larajin saw her shrug. "I only know that the druids sent him to do their bidding, far to the south.",
"South? To the Dales-or do you mean Sembia? How long ago?"
Dread coursed through Larajin as she remembered the wild elves who had defended her eighteen months ago in the Hunting Garden. Had her twin brother also run afoul of Drakkar and been charred to a gruesome corpse by the wizard's dark magic?
Doriantha tilted her head back to peer up at the sky through the thick tangle of branches overhead.
"He left within the moon," she answered at last.
"Less than a month ago, you mean?"
Doriantha nodded, then added, "He didn't tell me his destination. The druids forbade him to speak of it. You can, perhaps, think of a reason why."
After a moment's thought, Larajin guessed the answer: the impending war. Her twin brother had gone south to Sembia then, probably as a spy, since, like her, he could no doubt pass as fully human. She prayed that he hadn't ventured into Ordulin and been sniffed out and