Under Fallen Stars - Mel Odom [96]
"Lady, I'm sorry," he said. "I did my best."
"I know," she told him. "No one could have done any more."
He looked like he wanted to say something further but couldn't.
With a shriek of tortured wood, Breezerunner came to a rest on her side on the sandbar. The river current slapped at the mired ship, and the sound echoed inside the empty cargo hold.
"Lady," Malorrie said quietly, "I fear I can't hold any longer."
Her arms wrapped around his waist, her cheek pressed to his stomach, she felt the tremors vibrating through him. Yet, somehow she knew he wouldn't release the hold until she told him she was ready. "It's all right," she told him. "Let go."
"As you wish." He released his hold and they dropped into the river.
XVII
9 Kythorn, the Year of the Gauntlet
The elf looked at the dwarf in obvious disdain, dismissing him in a glance. Upon closer inspection, Pacys realized the elf s skin color wasn't ebony as a drow's was, but a very dark blue with infrequent white patches.
"You're him, aren't you?" the elf asked. "The one who will come to be called the Taleweaver?"
Pacys listened to the accent the elf used, finding it like none other he'd ever encountered. As a bard, he'd trained his ear for dialects and accents. They were part of the most colorful tools a bard had, able to carry emotion and character in a monologue. It was softer and more sibilant, as if used to carrying great distances with very little effort.
"I am Pacys the Bard," he replied, "and I've been called many things."
"But soon to be the Taleweaver."
"Maybe. No man may know exactly what lies in his future." Pacys played his cards close to his vest. Narros had also spoken of those who would try to prevent him from attaining his goals.
"No," the elf replied, "but a few are sometimes chosen by the gods to get a glimpse of those possible futures." He ' paused, then added, "You have no need for alarm."
"Aye, and ye speak prettily," Khlinat spat roughly, "but meself, I've found a man sometimes talks differently when he gets the chance to hold a knife to yer throat."
"I heard your song," the elf said. "I knew I had to come see you for myself-to discover if you were the one."
"You knew me from my song?" Pacys asked.
The elf nodded. "I'm something of a minstrel myself, and I was brought up on the lore of my people. Your presence has been predicted in our histories."
"Whose histories?" Pacys asked.
The elf smiled at him haughtily. "I am Taareen, of the alu'tel'quessir. More directly of late, I am of Faenasuor."
Pacys laid a hand on the dwarf's shoulder. "This is my good friend Khlinat Ironeater, a sailor and traveling companion on this journey."
Taareen inclined his head slightly. "A pleasure to meet you, warrior."
"Aye," Khlinat replied gruffly. "I guess we'll be after seeing the truth of that, eh?"
The elf took no offense. "May I come closer?"
Pacys gestured toward the campfire.
Taareen smiled. "Not too close. The flames can be hazardous to one who dwells in the embrace of Seros."
"Seros?" Khlinat asked. "I thought ye said ye were of Faenasuor."
"Seros," Pacys told him, digging into the lore he knew of the Sea of Fallen Stars, "is what they call the Inner Sea."
"Actually, it's the term for the world under the sea," Taareen stated as he sat on the ground across the campfire from them. "It came into use after Aryselmalyr fell-over a thousand years ago. In our language it means 'the embracing life.'"
"Aryselmalyr was the empire of the sea elves," Pacys told Khlinat when the dwarf looked up at him with suspicion on his broad face. "Several of the elves took up the sea life after the Crown Wars."
Harumphing