She removed her hand and stepped back. “And you should be more astute at recognizing who your friends are.”
She brushed past him and did not look back. Her Skaar companions trailed after her, giving the Elf and the highlander sharp looks as they passed by.
Dar watched her go, reflecting. She was dismissing him for now. She would learn nothing more of his intentions today, and that was enough. She realized he was not there because of her; he could not have suspected she was coming. Their encounter was simply by chance. But she knew, as well, that he was in Arborlon for more than a simple visit to Brecon Elessedil and his family. She knew his reason for coming would have something to do with the loss of Paranor and the Druid order. She might wonder what that something was and how much trouble it might cause her later, but she knew better than to pursue the matter now.
Just as he knew better than to underestimate the purpose of her visit and its impact on the king.
“She’s planning something,” Brecon said quietly, a troubled look on his face.
“She’s always planning something,” Dar replied, looking back at him. “It’s unfortunate we had to run into her like that. I would have preferred she not know I was here at all. She’ll want to discover what I’ve come for, and she’ll keep nosing around until she does.”
His friend made a dismissive gesture. “Let her try. No one knows the reason you’ve come but the two of us.” He paused. “Still, she does seem inordinately interested in you, like there is something between you that only you and she know.”
Dar sighed. “In a way, perhaps there is. She saved my life once. And then I returned the favor—though something tells me I might live to regret it. I’ll tell you about it later.”
“I think it’s more than that. I saw how she looked at you. Sort of like a hungry cat eyeing an appetizing mouse.”
Dar ignored the comment. “She’s right about one thing. You should ask your father what was said in the assembly. Find out exactly what she came here for. But for now we need to get to the Elfstones before either she or your father finds out what we’re up to. So lead the way.”
They went deeper into the palace, following a series of hallways to Gerrendren Elessedil’s private quarters. No one was about, so there was no one to question where the two of them were going. When they reached the king’s bedroom, they slipped inside, closing the door behind them and locking it, then went into the small room off the sleeping chamber that served as his private office. Dar looked around with appreciation. Gerrendren’s quarters were sumptuous—beautifully decorated with tapestries, paintings, precious glass, and thick rugs. Flowers in vases had been placed throughout. Sunlight flooded through windows from high up on a south-facing wall, streaming across a desk and chair and cabinets situated against the wall opposite.
Brecon pulled back a rough woven rug laid out in the center of the room, then ran his hands across the smooth flooring in a series of sweeping motions that seemed to brush away an invisible veneer to reveal the outline of a panel set into the floor.
“My father told me about it once when I was much younger,” he said. He had a mischievous look on his face. “I had asked him about the Elfstones, and I think he didn’t see the harm in showing them to me. After all, I was a boy, and the door was concealed and secured by magic. What harm could it do to tell me? Except that I was one of those precocious children who couldn’t let well enough alone. Having seen the Elfstones once, I wanted to see them again. I had the concealment unlocked within the week. I knew a few things about magic, even then.”
“You took the Elfstones out?” Dar grinned. “He would have skinned you alive if he’d found that out!”
“At the very least. But I was careful. I put everything back the way it had been. You know how it is when you’re young. You have to test your boundaries, find out what’s being kept hidden from you. I didn’t tell him what I’d done, but I told my mother.”
“And she didn’t tell on you?”
“No, not her. She thought I could do no wrong. She still feels that way. I’m her youngest. She loves it that I won’t be king. Prefers it that I am the designated chief gardener of the Carolan. After I shared my secret about accessing the vault to get to the Elfstones, I think she thought that giving me up to my father would stop me from ever sharing anything with her again. She would have been right, too.”
Dar pictured a younger Brecon Elessedil with his mother. Arialena Elessedil was a small, lively woman with exquisite features and a wonderful laugh, but also a quick temper. She had always been kind to Dar when he had come to visit, and she liked it that he and Brecon were close. She hadn’t changed much over the years, and Dar regretted that he probably wouldn’t have time to see her on this visit.
Brecon knelt and lifted away the floor panel by placing his hands carefully on its surface so the wood adhered to his fingertips. The panel was thick and sturdy, yet it seemed to weigh nothing as he pulled it free and set it aside. Another small Elven magic, Dar presumed. Over the past twenty years or so, the Elves had returned to mastering arts they had let slide for many centuries, their slow retreat from the other Races apparently giving them the impetus to seek out knowledge they had once possessed and lost. Theirs was a culture of magic established before the coming of humans and the Great Wars, and it felt right that they should seek it out anew. Dar only wished he had such a heritage to reclaim, but when it came to magic he had only the sword he wore strapped across his back. A fighting weapon. A bringer of death, not life.
He brushed these thoughts aside and watched as Brecon reached into a shadowy interior not brightened even marginally by the sunlight that fell across its opening. Slowly, he extracted an odd container. It appeared to be a square box constructed of silvery metal, but it revealed no joints, openings, or locks and instead was perfectly smooth on all six surfaces.
“The Elfstones have been in this box ever since I last saw them,” the prince observed, his voice gone distant and soft. “I always thought we should have been doing something with their magic, employing them for some useful purpose. My brothers openly urged our father to do so, but he just brushed us off. One time, some years back, he said something about their history being darker than we realized, but he never explained what he meant. But I know it had to do with the past, when the Druids and the Ohmsfords used the Stones on all those dangerous quests.”
He held the box carefully in front of him. “The Druids wanted these Elfstones, you know. They tried very hard to persuade us to give them up. Aphenglow Elessedil gave them back to us years ago after she became Ard Rhys. She was an Elf, and she thought they should be with her people because only Elves could use them, anyway. She wouldn’t return the Crimson Elfstones, though—the ones that were brought out of the Forbidding when the Ellcrys failed during her early years in the Druid order. She thought them too dangerous to be anywhere but locked away in Paranor. But these, the Seeking Stones…”