Pool of Twilight - James M. Ward [97]
Listle grabbed the ruby necklace, hastily fastening it around her throat. The gem flared, then dimmed to a steady glow. The elf's form grew substantial once again, transparent no longer.
Slowly she looked up at Kern, her face moon-pale in the twilight, her silvery eyes filled with anguish. "I'm sorry, Kern," she whispered. Abruptly she sprang to her feet and dashed away through the trees, her sobs fading in the distance.
16
Shattered Illusions
The crescent moon had risen well above the treetops by the time Listle finally stepped into the light of the campfire.
Kern gazed at her silently, not knowing what to say. Or even what he felt. A bowl of Trooper's rabbit stew sat on the ground before him, untouched.
"I suppose I owe you all some sort of an explanation," the elf said, sitting gingerly on a log across from Kern. Her face looked tight and drawn.
"Perhaps," Trooper said quietly. The paladin's eyes glinted like blue glass. "But then, not all secrets are meant to be shared."
The elf took a deep breath. "I think this one has to be." She smiled crookedly, her expression wistful. "I wish I could tell you this was all just another one of my practical jokes, but…" Her words faltered.
Kern ran a frustrated hand through his tangled red hair. He couldn't hold back any longer. "Listle, what was that creature? And why was it hunting you? And what… what happened when I tried to help you up?" His questions trailed off into awkward silence.
"I guess you haven't ever heard the phrase, 'One thing at a time,' have you, Kern?" Listle said wryly. "But that's all right. I'll try to tell you everything."
With a deep breath, she began her story.
"Kern already knows how, ten years ago, I escaped from the tower of the wizard Sifahir. Believe me when I say that there has never been an elvish mage as black-hearted as he was." Listle could not suppress a shudder. "Three centuries ago, he was counselor to the Queen of Evermeet, the land of the silver elves far across the Trackless Sea. For a time Sifahir used his powers to help the Queen keep her islands safe from pirates and sea monsters. But gradually he found other, less benevolent uses for his magic.
"With his spells, Sifahir would torture confessions of treason out of innocent elves, and wreak magical destruction upon villages that couldn't pay his cruel taxes. As time went on, his schemes grew ever darker. He began to whisper wicked plans of conquest in the queen's ear and to warn her of treacherous plots against her life concocted, so he said, by her closest friends and loved ones. He advised that she execute them all. Finally the queen realized his true evil. However, since it's against elven nature to take a life-even one as evil as Sifahir's-she exiled him to a small, barren island north of Evermeet."
The fire sent shadows dancing across Listle's face. Kern leaned forward to catch her soft words.
"The island Sifahir was exiled to was little more than a collection of jagged rocks jutting up above the waves," the elf went on. "Despite his might, Sifahir was condemned to stay in that desolate place. The Queen of the silver elves is not without powerful enchantments herself, and she cast a geas upon him. Should he ever set foot off his island, he would perish. But if she thought this meant he would never be able to work evil in the world again, then the good Queen was wrong."
Listle shook her head sadly. "Sifahir raised a dark tower, and from it he spun a magical web, its tendrils reaching farther and farther with every passing year. He could never hope to leave the island, but with his evil web he was able to draw others to him. The unlucky would find their boats pulled off course to Sifahir's island, their vessels crashing to splinters on the rocky shore, stranding them. Then, as his power expanded, he discovered ways to create evil servants that could venture forth into the world to retrieve objects for him-books of arcane lore, objects