Silver Shadows - Elaine Cunningham [105]
It was almost impossible not to. As the cycles of the moon pulled on the tides, the inexorable wheel of the year drew them all into the celebration. Fauns slipped away into the shadows, two by two. Pixies and sprites flitted off like paired fireflies, at this sacred time, each to his own.
Arilyn pulled away from the circle slowly, for she was loath to end the rare and wondrous communion she had known this night. A light touch-startling against her bared shoulder-had her spinning about, hand at the hilt of the sword she was pledged to wear even on such a night.
She turned into the circle of Foxfire's arms. He did not speak, but his eyes were dark with unmistakable invitation.
Instinct and habit took over; Arilyn went rigid and began to pull away.
Foxfire placed a gentle hand at the small of her back, stopping her retreat. The night is short," he said quietly, the traditional phrase exchanged between the lovers or comrades who shared the gift of midsummer.
Arilyn's breath caught in her throat as the full impact of the elf's invitation swept her. In Foxfire's eyes, she was worthy of this most elven of celebrations, which was not only merrymaking, but also a sacred union with the land. She had never dreamed of such acceptance into the elven world-had never considered such a tiling to be possible. The temptation to be what he thought she was was too great for the lonely half-elf to bear.
For the first time in her life, Arilyn did not draw away.
"The night is short," she agreed.
Korrigash and Ferret watched as their war leaders slipped away into the forest together "It is not right," the male said, his face deeply troubled. "Are not you and Foxfire promised?"
"For many years," Ferret agreed, her black eyes unreadable. "But what of it? As long as those two win battles, I care not what else they do."
"But Foxfire is my friend, and in this he does danger to himself."
"How so?" Ferret said sharply. For many days she had kept a gimlet eye on the half-elf. To all appearances, Arilyn's actions ran the course her claims had laid out. But Ferret could not rid herself entirely of the fear that Arilyn would fall back into the role she had played with such skill among the humans. It seemed possible to her that once the two were alone, an assassin's blade would find Foxfire's heart.
But such was not Korrigash's concern. "For good or ill, a bond is formed between a male and maid. Never is this more true than at midsummer. The People follow Foxfire now; they might not if he aligns himself too closely with the moon elf."
"And if they do not follow Foxfire, then you will lead," Ferret said calmly, reassured by the hunter's words. "Let this thing fall as it will. But come," she said in an abrupt change of mood, "the night is short."
"But you are promised to Foxfire," Korrigash protested. Clearly, he was both troubled and intrigued by her suggestion.
"He is otherwise engaged," the female pointed out. "Consider it practice, in case you are required to take his place elsewhere."
The hunter began to protest, but his words wandered off uncertainly and then ceased altogether. The magic of midsummer was already upon them.
Foxfire gazed up through the thick canopy of the forest, watching as the solstice moon sank low in the sky. Her pale light seemed to linger on the long, white limbs still entwined with his. He dropped a kiss-soft as a butterfly's wing-on the closed eyelid of the sleeping half-elf and wondered what he should do next.
He had suspected before, but now he knew beyond doubt: whatever she might be in her heart and in her soul, Arilyn's blood was hah7 human. No elf slept as she did.
As war leader, Foxfire was pledged to follow Rhothomir. He might argue with the Speaker-and he did so far more than did any other elf in the tribe-but he respected the older male. He owed him this knowledge. By every tradition of the elven people, he was bound to tell him what he knew of the newcomer in their midst. But how could he, knowing Rhothomir as he did? To the Speaker, all humans were