The Magic Of Krynn (19 page)

Flint heaved a disgruntled sigh. He guessed not-or he wouldn't be in this predicament,
lost in some gloomy forest that wasn't on his map.

“Are you going to be peering at the dirt much longer,” he grumbled, “or can we look for a
camp site?”

Tanis, moving on Flint's heels and inspecting the ground to the left of the root-webbed
path, gestured for Flint to join him. “Look at this.”

The bushes and frost-seared grass to the side of the path were bent and trampled, marking
a departure into the forest. A scrap of brown wool still fluttered in the sharp-toothed
grasp of a young prickly ash.

“It looks like someone went through here,” Flint said. “And recently, at that.”

Tanis peered into the forest in the direction the lone traveler

had taken. The song of water racing and tumbling over rocks played a faint counterpoint to
the whispering rustle of leaves in the cooling breeze. But then from nearer by he heard
the soft sound of something or someone breathing in the hard, short gasps that clearly
spoke of fear.

“Flint?” he whispered. “I hear it.” Tanis reached for his bow and nocked an arrow with the
quick,

almost absent moves of one who has used it with familiarity for years. It took only a
gesture and a nod from him to tell the old dwarf to follow quietly.

Elf-silent, making no more noise than a hunted fox, Tanis stepped off the path and into
the darkening woods.

Close-growing oaks and then underbrush crowded together, forming a broad wall of trunks
and forbidding shadow. Tanis moved quickly from one oak to the next, keeping cover.
Several growths thick, the trees ended abruptly in a clearing carpeted with their
wide-fingered bronze leaves.

The girl crouched at the edge of the clearing was the most bedraggled creature Tanis had
ever seen. Her hair, the color of frost-kissed aspen leaves, tumbled around her shoulders
and straggled across her face. It did not hide the scratches and cuts, signs of a careless
passage through the prickly ash, that scored her cheeks.

She could not have been more than seventeen and that was young, Tanis thought, even by the
standards of short-lived humans. Crouched in the thick shadows of an ancient oak's trunk,
she held perfectly still. There was that in her blue eyes that reminded the half-elf of a
doe caught in a hunter's aim.

Flint breathed a startled oath. As though the old dwarf's whisper was the impetus she
needed, the girl bolted.

“No, wait!” Tanis called. But the girl plunged through the trees, too terrified to cast
even a backward look. Tanis leaped after her, slinging his bow and returning the arrow to
the quiver as he ran. Behind him he could hear Flint angling toward the stream. Above them
a raven screeched hoarsely and took noisy wing from a tall oak.

Tanis caught up with the girl at the stream. “Lady, wait!”

She skittered down the mossy bank. Once there she dropped to her knees, groping along the
edge of the water for a rock. Her hand, raw with cold and trembling with fear, clutched a
large stone. She hurled it at the half-elf with all her strength and awkward aim.

Tanis ducked and heard the rock drop harmlessly into the brush behind him. Flint breached
the woods just a little upstream from the girl. He moved silently down the water's edge.
While her attention was still on Tanis, who took the banks in two long leaps, Flint caught
her by the elbows. He pinned her arms behind her, and brought her up to her feet.

“That will be enough of that, young woman,” he said gruffly. “We've no interest in harming
you.”

Her eyes wide and wild with terror, the girl looked from the old dwarf to the young
half-elf. Gasping, she struggled against Flint's hold. Tanis took another step toward her,
showing her his hands, free of weapons.

“He means it, lady. We won't harm you. Flint, you can let her go.”

“I'll be happy to-if she promises not to try to break our heads with rocks.”

Tanis smiled at the girl. “She'll promise that, won't you, lady?”

Her chin came up, and though her lips trembled, she eyed Tanis defiantly. “And what
warrant do you make?”

“I'll make you two,” Tanis said gently. “That neither of us will harm you and that we'll
offer you a warm fire for the night. Are they acceptable?”

Her whispered “yes” carried such mingled notes of hope and fear that it went right to
Tanis's heart. In the twilight gloom now settling on the forest, he saw the sparkle of
tears in her eyes. He took her hand and helped her up the bank.

He glanced over her head at Flint, but the dwarf only shrugged. Still, Tanis knew that his
friend pondered the same question that he did: what was the girl doing alone in these
woods?

Tanis managed to bring down two fat hares while Flint and the girl made camp. Riana, she'd
said her name was, but she volunteered no information after that. It was Tanis's thought
that she'd speak more willingly once she was fed and warm.

Riana was silent through all the time it took to roast the hares, though some of her fear
seemed to leave her as she listened to Tanis's easy banter and Flint's gruff answers. She
did not speak during the meal but to thank them for the food and finally to offer to clean
the cookware at the stream.

Tanis listened to her careful progress down the bank. A cold wind scampered through the
clearing, rustling the leaves and causing the bare branches of the trees to rub and clack
together. These were the only sounds in a forest fallen silent before winter's approach.

The sky had been clear at sunset, but now thick clouds crawled up from the north. Though
Lunitari's crimson glow had lighted each of their nights before this, it would not
tonight; Solinari, could she be seen, was only a slim new curve. Beyond the fire's glow
the trees' gnarled hands scratched at the grim sky. Ghostly mist drifted between their
dark trunks, obscuring the ground and lowest growths.

In Flint's pack was a small pouch containing nothing but blocks of wood. Tanis smiled as
he watched his friend reach into the pouch, taking the first one he touched. The size of
his hand, the block was smooth and white, taken from the heart of a maple. Flint's dagger
gleamed in the firelight as he made himself comfortable before the fire. In the
companionable silence that fell between the two, the little block of wood became a rabbit,
one ear dipped, one standing at the alert. The rabbit s nose, nostrils flared as though
sniffing the frosty night air, required only a few last cuts when the soft dirge-like
moaning that had haunted their nights began again.

Tanis shivered. “In the name of the gods, Flint, why is a child like that traveling alone
in this miserable forest?”

But before Flint could answer, Riana's shadow fell across the fire, sharp and black. Her
voice trembled. “I was not alone when I set out. My brother and-and Karel were with me.”
She set the cookware by the fire to dry and came to sit close to the warmth.

Tanis poked at the fire and watched the bright flames lick higher. “Where are they now,
Riana?”

The girl shuddered, hunching closer into the poor shelter of her ragged cloak. "I-I don't
know. It happened two nights ago. We were camping farther north, returning from our
journey to Haven. Our village lies north of here. You might know it-Winding

V ale.“ Flint worked at his whittling and did not look up. ”We know

it,“ he said quietly. ”What happened to your brother and this Karel?"

“Our camp-it was attacked!” The wind mourned long and low in the trees. Riana drew her
knees up close to her chest, huddling for warmth. “It was attacked by-things, phantoms,
ghosts-I don't know what they were. I only know that they were horrible. And when Karel
ran his sword through one it-it didn't die. It laughed and the sound froze the heart in
me. I've never seen such fear in Karel before! And I've known him all my life. He looked
at me- It was as though he pleaded for my help. Or bade me farewell.” She stopped, a sob
caught in her throat, grief and an

almost witless despair in her wide blue eyes. “And then it touched him, took his hand, and
another one took Daryn, my brother, and-and they were gone.”

She dropped her forehead to her knees and rocked there in silent misery. Moved by her
sorrow, Tanis put his arm around her. She leaned against him, shivering. In the stillness
of the black night the fire's crackling seemed too loud.

“And you've been lost these two days, wandering?”

“No!” Her voice was muffled against his shoulder. Tanis could feel her stiffen in anger.
“I'm not lost, I'm trying to FIND them!” “It seems to me,” Flint muttered, his eyes still
on his whittling,

“that it amounts to about the same thing.” “It's not the same thing.” Riana pulled away
from Tanis and

brushed at the hair straggling across her tear-streaked face. "I see. Then perhaps you
have an idea where these ghosts or

phantoms have taken your brother and his friend?“ ”If I knew that I'd be going there.“
”Lost and wandering." Before Riana could protest, Tanis took her hand and silenced

Flint with a sharp look. “Riana, whatever the case may be, you cannot be alone in these
woods. Our way lies northeast to Solace. We would be glad of your company that far.”

“No. Thank you, but no. I must find my brother and Karel. Haven't you heard what I've
said?” She looked from Tanis to Flint, then suddenly understood the hard line of Flint's
questioning. “You don't believe me, do you?”

Tanis shook his head. “No, Riana, it's not that-”

“You don't. What do you think? Do you think I've done away with them? My own brother and
the man-who has been a friend to us both for all our lives? Or do you think that I'm fey
enough to wander these wretched woods alone for pleasure?” Her voice rose, sharp in the
cold dark. “My brother and Karel have VANISHEDL”

“Riana, let us help you. Let us take you to Solace.”

“I must find them. I'll not find them in Solace.” Her tone was bitter, cooling now with
disappointment. “But I thank you for your fire tonight and the food. I'll be on my way in
the morning.”

Tanis took her hand again and suddenly Flint sensed his friends thought as clearly as he
could sense the frost on the night air.

HE'S GOING TO TAKE UP THIS FOOLISH GIRL'S QUEST!

He sat forward quickly to protest, but before he could speak, Tanis said, 'Then you won't
go alone, Riana."

The girl's eyes lighted, her lips parted in a genuine smile of

surprise and hope. “You'll help me?” “I will.” Flint watched through narrowed eyes while
Riana and Tanis

talked together for a short time longer. He made no effort to join their conversation, but
sat, brooding before the fire. When Riana, tired at last, bade him goodnight, he answered
with only a short nod.

Once the girl was well settled and sleeping, wrapped in Tanis's blanket, Flint sat
forward, still grimly silent.

But Tanis did not speak. Long experience had taught him that the best defense against
Flint's disapproval was silence. Faced with no argument against which to vent his
objections, Flint would, sooner or later, find a way to challenge Tanis's silence. With
studied care, Tanis checked the fire and took up the arrows he'd used to bring down the
hares. The green and gold fletching that marked them as his own was damaged. Tanis worked
over them quietly until Flint at last spoke.

“Well?” Tanis looked up from his work. “Well?” “It's late to play word games, Tanis,”
Flint growled. "What

made you offer to take up this foolishness?“ ”What are we supposed to do, leave her here?“
”We could escort her to Solace.“ ”She won't go."

“How do you know that? You didn't press very hard.”

Tanis smoothed the stiff feathers of one of the arrows. “It seems clear enough to me.”

“What seems clear to me is that you've committed yourself to a hopeless task. Tanis, we
don't even know what truth there is in the girl's story. Ghosts? Bandits, I might believe.
But phantoms who laugh at cold steel?” The old dwarf shook his head. “The girl is ei- ther
lying or a lack-wit.”

“No, Flint. She's neither.” “You're so sure?” Tanis wasn't completely certain. He only
knew that her

determination to go on, to find her brother and their friend, was real. Her eyes had
glittered with it, her words held the passion of one who would not be gainsaid. And, too,
though he could point to nothing that supported his feeling, Tanis was certain that the
girl spoke the truth. He shook his head. At least the truth as she believed it.

"I'm sure, though I can't say why. Flint, the girl is terrified. There is something wrong
in this forest. We've both felt it. And

still she'll go on, with or without anyone's help. I can't let her go alone."

“I'll not deny that there is an evil feel to this place. I can almost smell it, and it
grows stronger every day we journey north. Lad, you're not too old to be reckless, but I
am.”

Tanis looked from his old friend to Riana, sleeping quietly, one hand pillowing her head,
the other fisted as though she clutched her courage even in sleep. Whatever doubts could
be had about her story, he knew that she would go on, if she had to, without his help. And
likely she would come to quick grief. He couldn't let that happen.

“Flint, I haven't committed you. I don't want to go alone. But I will if I have to.”

Smoke drifted up from the fire, a thin veil between them. Even so, Flint could see the
regret in his friend's eyes. Despite his words, he knew there was no decision to be made.
“No, I noticed you were careful not to do that. Though I wonder that you'd think I would
let you go alone.” He reached for the arrows Tanis had abandoned. “Here, you'll lose these
to the flame if you're not careful.”

“Then you'll come with me?”

The wind whispered evil secrets to the night. The groaning of the trees under the frost
might have been the mourning of lost souls. Flint shuddered, remembering the girl's tale
of phantoms and ghosts. “I still have little enough faith in the girl's story of ghosts.
But it's clear to me that the two of you will need someone with sense along on this fool's
errand.”