Ilse Witch - Terry Brooks [185]
He crossed to Ahren and greeted him with a broad grin. “Another day, another adventure,” he offered brightly. “At least Ard Patrinell gave you a real sword and an ash bow.”
Ahren started at the sound of Bek’s voice, but managed to recover a little of his lost composure. “What do you mean?”
“Look what Walker gave me.” Bek gestured at his dagger and sling. “Any small birds or squirrels that come after me, I’m ready for them.”
Ahren smiled nervously. “I wish I could say the same. I can barely make my legs move. I don’t know what’s wrong.”
“Quentin would say you haven’t hunted enough wild boar. Look, I came over to ask a favor. I want you to keep this for me.”
Before he could think better of it, he took off the phoenix stone and its necklace and placed them about Ahren’s neck. It was an impulsive act, one he might have reconsidered if he had allowed himself time to think about it. The Elf looked down at the stone, then back at Bek questioningly.
“I’m afraid I haven’t been entirely honest with you, Ahren,” Bek admitted. Then he told his friend a revised version of his encounter with the King of the Silver River and the gift of the phoenix stone, leaving out the parts about his sister and the spirit creature’s hints of the stone’s real purpose. “So I do have a little magic after all. But I’ve been keeping it a secret from everyone.” He shrugged. “Even Quentin doesn’t know about it.”
“I can’t take this from you!” Ahren declared vehemently, reaching up to remove the stone and necklace.
Bek stopped him, seizing his hands. “Yes, you can. I want you to have it.”
“But it isn’t mine! It wasn’t given to me, — it was given to you! By a Faerie creature at that!” His voice softened. “It isn’t right, Bek. It doesn’t belong to me.”
“Well, it doesn’t belong to me, either. Not really. Consider it a loan. You can give it back to me later. Look, fair is fair. I have Quentin to protect me, and he has a talisman to help him do the job. You have Ard Patrinell, but he doesn’t have any magic. The Elf-stones might turn up along the way, but for now, you need something else. Why not take this?”
Bek could tell that the Elf wanted to accept the gift, a talisman of real magic that would give him fresh confidence and a renewed sense of purpose. Just now, Ahren needed those things more than he did. But the Elven prince was proud, and he would not take something from Bek if he thought it was a charity that would put his friend at risk.
“I can’t,” he repeated dully.
“Could you take it if I told you that Walker has given me another magic to use, something else with which I can protect myself?” Bek kept the truth behind the lie masked in a look of complete sincerity.
Ahren shook his head doubtfully. “What magic?”
“I can’t tell you. Walker won’t let me. I’m not even supposed to tell you I have the magic. Just trust me. I wouldn’t give you the phoenix stone if it was the only real protection I had, would I?”
Which was true enough. The fact that he possessed the magic of the wishsong gave him some reassurance that by handing over the phoenix stone, he wasn’t leaving himself entirely defenseless. Anyway, the stone hadn’t been of much use to him, perhaps it would help his friend.
“Please, Ahren. Keep it. Look, if you promise to use it to help me if you see that I’m in trouble, that will be repayment enough. And I’ll do the same for you with my magic. Quentin and I already have an agreement to look out for each other. You and I can have one, too.”
He waited, holding Ahren’s uncertain gaze. Finally, the other boy nodded. “All right. But just for a while, Bek.” He ran his fingers over the stone. “It’s warm, like it’s heating from the inside out. And so smooth.” He glanced down at it a moment, then back at Bek. “I think it really is magic. But maybe we won’t have to find out. Maybe we won’t have to use it at all.”
Bek smiled agreeably,