Elfshadow

Self-consciously, Arilyn snatched her hand away and stuffed both balled fists into her trouser pockets. Before she could issue a scathing rejoinder, her new acquaintance spoke up.

"For a moment, I mistook the etriel for an old friend."

Danilo's eyebrows flew up. "By the gods, an original ploy!" he said with great admiration. "I shall have to try that myself next time I see a lady whose acquaintance I should like to make."

The quessir's eyes narrowed at the implication, but Danilo's bland, smiling face betrayed not a hint of sarcasm. For a moment the three stood, unmoving. The moon elf made a curt bow of dismissal to Danilo, then, turning his back on the dandy as if he were of no further consequence or concern, the elf took Arilyn's arm and escorted her toward a table near the fireplace. The i

Still aghast at Danilo's rude behavior, Arilyn felt a flood of relief that a fight had been avoided. In the Marsh of Chelimber Danilo had proven himself a remarkably good fighter, but Arilyn did not want to see him take his chances against this elf. As the quessir led her to his table, she shot an angry look over her shoulder mouthed Go away! at Danilo. She glared at him and silently willed him to leave well enough alone.

If Danilo understood her warning, he stupidly refused to take it. Casually the dandy followed the elves to their table. It was a corner table, big enough only for two to share a bottle and conversation, but Danilo dragged a third chair up and dropped comfortably into it. His smile was arrogantly complacent, as if his presence there had been commissioned by royalty.

"Danilo, what has come over you?" Arilyn snapped.

"What has come over you?" he countered languidly, gesturing across the table at the quessir. "Really, my dear, accepting an invitation from this, er, gentleman-or would the term be gentleelf?-without benefit of a proper introduction." The dandy shook his head and tsk-tsked. "At this rate, how shall I ever induct you into Waterdhavian society?"

Enraged by Danilo's presumption, Arilyn drew in a long, slow breath. Before she could expel it in a barrage of much-deserved abuse, something in Danilo's meanderings struck home. Come to think of it, she realized, the elf had not given her his name. She turned her eyes toward the quessir. He was observing the exchange with an alert expression in his amber eyes.

"I make no secret of my identity," the elf said, speaking only to Arilyn. "We were merely interrupted before I could complete the introduction. I am Elaith Craulnobur, at your service."

"Well, damn my eyes!" Danilo interjected in a jovial tone. "I've heard of you! Aren't you known as 'the Serpent?' "

"In certain objectionable circles, yes," the elf admitted coolly.

Elaith "the Serpent" Craulnobur. With an effort, Arilyn kept her face expressionless. She had also heard of the elven adventurer. His reputation for cruelty and treachery was legendary, and Kymil had issued strict and repeated orders for her to stay far away from the moon elf. Her mentor emphasized that Arilyn's reputation, damaged by the unfortunate label of assassin, would be further tainted by association with such as Elaith Craulnobur.

Arilyn, however, refused to be prejudiced by the dark rumors or by Kymil's old-lady fussing. After all, tales of some of her own exploits had come back to her, twisted beyond all recognition. It could be so with this elf. Arilyn turned to face her host, keeping her voice and face carefully neutral. She would judge for herself.

"Well met, Elaith Craulnobur. Please accept my apologies for my companion's unfortunate remark."

"Your companion?" Elaith regarded Danilo with the first sign of interest.

"Thank you very much, Arilyn, but I can speak for myself," Danilo protested cheerfully.

"That's what I'm afraid of," she muttered. "Really, Danilo, I know that seats are scarce, but would you please excuse us? I have accepted Elaith Craulnobur's invitation for a drink. I will join you later, if you like."

"What? You want me to leave? And miss the opportunity to meet such a legend? Not likely. What kind of amateur bard do you think me?" Danilo folded both arms on the table and leaned toward Elaith Craulnobur, smiling confidingly. "Did you know that songs are sung about your exploits?"

"I did not." The quessir's tone did not invite more discussion on the matter.

Danilo missed the unspoken message entirely. "You mean that you've never heard 'Silent Strikes the Serpent?' It's quite a catchy tune. Shall I sing it for you?"

"Another time."

"Danilo…" Arilyn warned through gritted teeth.

The dandy smiled apologetically at her. "Arilyn, my dear, I'm forgetting myself again, aren't I? Mark of an amateur, that's what it is: going on and on like this, when a true bard would merely listen and observe. I'll do that, really I shall. Please, do go on with your conversation. Pretend I'm not here at all. I'll be as silent as a snail, really."

Stubborn fool, Arilyn thought, stifling a sigh. She knew that arguing with the dandy usually made matters worse, so she smiled ruefully at Elaith and said, "With your permission then, it would seem that we are three this evening."

"If it pleases you," the elf agreed mildly. He regarded Danilo as one would an overgrown and badly trained puppy. "I don't believe we have met."

"This is Danilo Tha

"Ah, yes." Elaith smiled with gentle amusement. "Young Master Tha

The elf left that remark for Danilo to take as he would, turning his attention to the ceremony of the Elverquisst. With a flick of his long-fingered hands, he tossed a tiny magical fireball toward the candle at the table's center. Arilyn winced as the candle caught flame. At that moment she caught Danilo's curious gaze upon her, and she gravely shook her head to warn him not to interrupt. The nobleman subsided and watched the ceremony in growing fascination.

Elaith Craulnobur cupped his hands first over the candle, then over the decanter of elven spirits on the table before him. The bottle was a marvel, made of transparent crystal that sparkled from thousands of tiny facets. The elf took the decanter in both hands, turning it slowly before the candle, and the bottle grew ever brighter as it absorbed the light. Finally the quessir spoke a phrase in Elvish, and the stored light coalesced into thirteen distinct points that glowed like stars against the sudden darkness of the crystal decanter

Arilyn's throat tightened, as it always did, before the sight of the autumn constellation Correlian. To the moon elves, the appearance of this star formation marked the final demise of summer. Elaith and Arilyn joined softly in a chant of farewell, and the light faded from the decanter with the final words of the ritual.

Gently Elaith poured some of the liquid into a goblet, swirling it in a complex pattern that set in motion a play of fairy lights and color. His graceful hands moved through the steps of the ritual with practiced ease. The ceremony's resonant magic had been forged through centuries of repetition, as untold generations of elves celebrated the spiral dance of the seasons.

As she watched, Arilyn almost forgot about Danilo's foolishness and Elaith's reputation, and for a moment or two she allowed herself to be transported back to her childhood in Evereska. The last time Arilyn had shared the Elverquisst ritual had been in her fifteenth year, just before the death of Z'beryl.

Elverquisst itself was a ruby-colored liquor magically distilled from sunshine and rare summer fruits. Utterly smooth, the liquor was nonetheless flecked with gold and had an iridescence of both color and flavor. It was highly prized at all times, but in the autumn rituals it was savored as if it were the gift of one final, perfect summer day.