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Yarmarion replied, "They do not rule. But their order is elite. They are afforded great respect because they keep the ancient Yuirwood free of evil influence. Without their efforts, the forest's slow retreat would proceed all the faster. The Yuirwood once covered all the peninsula."

"They must know many things."

"They lay claim to ancient lores, and know all the secrets of the menhir circles that dot the Yuirwood deeps."

The Masters gave one last long tone, then stowed the instruments at their belts. One of the regally accoutered half-elves stepped forward. A great yew bow was strapped on his back. He projected, "Invaders threaten our forest borders! This wood elf, called Janesta, witnessed their terrible attack, and is the lone survivor of her tribe!"

The assembled audience, which hadn't completely quieted when the Master had started speaking, now hushed as one.

The speaker continued. "The attack was launched from within the eaves of the Yuirwood. The attack was carried out by strange, kin-slaying elves. And no, I do not mean our long-sundered brethren, the drow."

The silence was broken by gasps, protestations, and cries of surprise. The man spoke over the tutmoil. "It is true-Janesta describes her attackers as steely eyed elves more noble and terrible even than gray elves, mail-clad, and astride mailed steeds. Her description matches the likeness of the long-vanished Yuir elves who ranged these woods when the trees ruled all. Whatevet nobility they once possessed, it is clear some surviving splinter of that race lives still, old, corrupt, and senile with age!"

A voice rang out from above-the princess. She asked, "Where have these stagnant Yuir resided all these centuries without our knowledge, we who now claim the wide woods?"

"They linger behind the wood, we guess, in a veiled space to which the menhir paths lead for those who know the route."

The princess called down, "This is possible? Do the Masters not know all the routes?"

The speaker shook his head. "We know many-not all. We've long suspected that deeper, more tangled paths lay outside out lore. Now we know it is true."

"Let Janesta speak," said the princess, from where she stood as if on a mighty branch, not empty space. "From whence came these awful destroyers? Tell us, for we are kin of your kin. We will avenge your tribe's memory and defend the sanctity of the forest."

The wood elf, disoriented and pale, looked up into the sky and said in a weak voice, "They came from across a causeway-a causeway fronted by two soaring obelisks. We set our encampment nearby to study the stones, and the strange mist that so often obscured the causeway from sight and even touch."

"Tell us more of this causeway," commanded the princess when the woman faltered.

"The day prior to the attack, my friend Natal Peacethorn and I…" Janesta choked, wiped at her eyes, then continued. "Natal and I found the causeway clear for the first time. We crossed it. On the other side we found a massive granite gate sealed against all entry. And above… stars wheeled in the sky, though Natal and I crossed the causeway in full daylight."

The assembled Masters looked at her with consternation, though a few nodded, as if her words confirmed a long-held conjecture.

"The gates were closed, thick with glyphs we couldn't decipher. Above the gate was scribed a single massive symbol-a white, treelike symbol surrounded by a field of flickering blue-tinged darkness."

Raidon's eyes did their best to leap from their sockets just as his jaw threatened to detach from his skull and clatter to the ground.

Yarmarion turned and fixed Raidon Kane with a measuring glance. He said, "It would seem your arrival today is not accidental, traveler."

CHAPTER TWELVE

Stardeep, The Causeway

Elven war-horses cantered down the narrow Causeway, their hooves striking thunder thtough the glade. Empyrean Knights sat astride them, a rush of silvery mail, righteous fury alive in their eyes. On they raced, across the narrow lane, three dozen star elves draped in pleated