Silver Shadows - Elaine Cunningham [135]
She tapped Ganamede's arm, jerked her head to indicate that he and the other lythari should follow, and then took off at a run for tile place where Jill and Tinkersdam waited. The lythari shimmered into wolf form as he followed her, his clan hard behind him.
They found the alchemist seated on a log, his head in his hands and a forlorn expression on his plump, sallow race. If there was no work to be done and no property waiting to be destroyed, Tinkersdam was utterly at odds with himself Jill was seated beside him, sipping experimentally at a flask of summer mead he'd managed to talk away from Ferret. Kendel was nowhere in sight. The dwarf and the Gondsman looked up as Arilyn approached. Both did an astonished double take at the sight of the enormous wolves running silently at her heels.
"No time to explain," she said. Tinkersdam, climb onto this lythari's back. One of the others must take the dwarЈ and some of you go into the forest to look for a moon elf male with red-gold hair and blue eyes. He's probably hunting. Take all three of them near to the place where the battle will be. Await us there. But I swear by Gond's gears, Tinkersdam, if you blow up something before we join you, you're on your own from now on!"
The alchemist rose, shrugged, and shouldered on his massive pack. He clambered awkwardly onto the lythari's back. Jill followed suit, albeit with a string of grumbled curses. The two lythari disappeared into the forest, stumbling a bit beneath their loads.
They disappeared not a moment too soon. Ferret burst into the clearing, the People of Talltrees close behind her.
The elf woman stopped and pointed to the sleeping figure of Zoastria. "Ysaltry, Nimmetar, you fought under Soora Thea's command. Come forward and say whether or not this is she."
Two elderly elves came forward. They gazed for quite some time at the elf woman's still face, remembering ancient times and long-ago battles. Finally, they nodded.
Ferret looked to the half-elf. "Begin," she said urgently.
Arilyn slowly drew her moonblade and held it up high before her. Faint blue light dawned in the moonstone in its hilt and spread down the shining length of the blade. Those elves who had never seen the magic sword in battle exclaimed softly.
The significance of it was lost on none of them. All had heard the story of Soora Thea, the hero who slept. All of them knew Arilyn carried a moonblade. Slowly, the realization came upon them that the sword in her hand was the very one their ancient hero had carried.
The knowledge of this, and the wonder of it, burned bright in the eyes of the survivors of Talltrees. Even so, Ferret spoke the words aloud in the ringing tones of a lore-talker.
"For hundreds of years, it has been said among us that for as long as the magic fire of Myth Drannor b^rns within this sword, a hero will return in times of greatest need. Once before Soora Thea led our tribe in battle. She will come again, now, this day, in response to the call of her clans-daughter."
Taking the cue Ferret provided, Arilyn moved to stand behind the slumbering elf woman. The light from the moonblade fell upon the still face and set the sapphire braid sparkling. The half-elf took a deep breath and then spoke into the expectant silence.
"Come forth, you who were once Zoastria, known to the people of Tethir as Soora Thea. Your time has come again."
Mist rose from the blade and swirled over the form of the slumbering elf. Zoastria's elfshadow, pale and insubstantial and wraithlike, stood before the forest folk.
As all eyes clung to the spiritlike form, the essence of the elf woman slowly began to take on substance. The ghostly outline filled in, gradually becoming as solid and mortal as any of the forest folk. Yet she stood like one caught in a trance. Her eyes were closed, her body still. Her face warmed, changing