The Second Generation

Tanis did see. He saw the Dark Queen, whispering her words of seduction into elven ears. Senator Rashas would be shocked to the core of his being at the suggestion that he was being seduced by evil. In his mind, he was acting only for good—the good of the elves, keeping them safe, isolated, insulated.

All the hard work, all the endless hours of traveling back and forth, all the hard-fought negotiations: convincing the knights to trust the elves, convincing the dwarves to trust the Ergothians, convincing the elves to trust anybody. All gone in a puff of smoke.

And Lord Ariakan and his dread Knights of Takhisis growing stronger by the hour.

This was a terrible blow to their hopes for peace, yet, at the moment, all Tanis could think of was his boy. Is Gilthas safe? Is he well? Does he know what Rashas plots? What will he do if he finds out?

Hopefully, nothing. Nothing rash, nothing foolish. Nothing to put himself—or others—into danger. Gil had never been in any sort of danger or difficulty before now. His father and mother had seen to that. He wouldn’t know how to react.

“We always protected him,” Tanis said, not realizing he was talking aloud. “Maybe we were wrong. But he was so sick, so fragile.... How could we do otherwise?”

“We raise our children to leave us, Tanis,” Dalamar said quietly.

Startled, Tanis looked at the dark elf. “Caramon said that.”

“Yes, he said it to me, after Palin had taken his test. 'Our children are given to us for only a short time. During that time, we must teach them to live on their own, because we won’t always be around.' ”

“Wise words.” Recalling his friend, Tanis smiled fondly, sadly. “But Caramon wasn’t able to follow his dictum, not when it came to his own son.”

He was silent a moment, then said quietly, “Why are you telling me all this, Dalamar? What’s in it for you?”

“Her Dark Majesty has a very high regard for you, Tanis Half-Elven. Neither she nor I consider it conducive to our cause to have your son on the elven throne. I think we would do far better with Porthios,” Dalamar added dryly.

“What about the treaty?”

“That victory is already ours, my friend. No matter what happens among the elves, the treaty is so much scrap paper. Porthios will never forgive the Silvanesti for betraying him. He won’t sign now. You know it. And if the two elven nations refuse to sign, the dwarves of Thorbardin will refuse to sign. And if the dwarves—”

“Hang the dwarves!” Tanis said impatiently. “Does this mean you’ll help me bring Gilthas home?”

“Your son’s coronation is planned for tomorrow,” Dalamar said, raising his wineglass to Tanis in a mocking salute. “It is a solemn occasion, one no father should miss."

Chapter Ten

Twilight enhanced the beauty of the elven land. The soft, glowing colors of the setting sun shone through the silken curtains, burnished every object in the room with gold. Its beauty was wasted on Gil. Nervously, he paced away the hours.

The house was still. The Kagonesti guards hardly ever spoke, and when they did, it was only briefly and in their own language—a language that sounded like the calls of wild birds. The guards brought in dinner: bowls of fruit and bread, wine and water. Then, after a swift searching glance around the room, they left, shutting the door behind them. Alhana could eat nothing.

“This food tastes like ashes,” she said.

Despite his trouble, Gilthas was hungry. He ate not only his meal, but—when he saw she wasn’t going to eat—hers as well.

Alhana smiled faintly. “The resiliency of youth. It is good to see. You are the future of our race.” She pressed her hand against her abdomen. “You give me hope.”

Night was forbidden to truly settle over Qualinesti. The darkness was lit by thousands of tiny sparkling lights, shining in the trees. Alhana lay down, closed her eyes, and tried to find some rest before the evening’s long and possibly dangerous journey.

Gil continued pacing in the darkness, attempting to sort through the confused jumble of his thoughts.

Home! How he had longed to leave it. Now, perversely, he longed to be back.

“Father came after me. I know he did. And maybe I’ve put him in danger.” Gil sighed. “I’ve made a mess of things. Whatever happens to Father will be my fault. He warned me not to go. Why didn’t I listen? What’s wrong with me? Why do I have these horrible feelings inside me? I—”

He stopped. Voices, loud voices, speaking Qualinesti, came floating up from far below. Alarmed, thinking perhaps that Alhana’s plot had been discovered, Gil wondered if he should wake her.

She was already awake, sitting up, her eyes open wide. She listened several moments, then sighed in relief.

“It is only a few members of the Thalas-Enthia—Rashas’s cohorts. They’re planning on entering the senate chambers together, to present a solid front.”