Chapter 15

While King Kah was fingering Tiera for his predecessor's murder, an oblivious Tiera was sitting at the elves' kitchen table. Spadell and Thonn were there too, sitting opposite her, with Willowmere at the head of the table while Treeborne served lunch.

"This is a spicy little soup I made a couple of days ago," he said, ladling generous quantities into copper bowls. He'd warmed it on the fire, and the steam which met Tiera's nose was heavily scented and very appetising.

She tried a spoonful, then smiled with pleasure. "That's really good," she said.

"I've not tasted better," said Spadell appreciatively.

Treebough looked pleased, and added another ladle's worth to their bowls.

"Do you have any salt?" asked Thonn.

Once Treebough took his place, his wife smiled at them all before fixing a knowing look on Tiera. "So," she began, "how long have you been together?"

Tiera paused, the spoon halfway to her mouth. "I met Thonn in the cells at Chatter's Reach. Captain Spadell, here… well, he saved my life. Twice."

"How romantic!" said Willowmere, and she clapped her hands.

Tiera choked on her soup. "No, not… I mean, we don't…"

"It's not like that," said Spadell quickly.

"I see." Willowmere raised one eyebrow. "Well, once you're both honest with each other, I promise it will be like that."

Tiera and Spadell exchanged a glance, then returned to their soup.

"And you, young man," said Willowmere, turning to Thonn. "What is your tale?"

"I don't know that I should say, ma'am."

"Relax, lad. You're amongst friends here."

"Well, I came by a magic book, and I started learning spells. Back in my village this was, and… well, magic is banned in those parts."

"You have the power?"

"I've got the power."

"Oh, he's got the power," agreed Tiera.

"I used to," admitted Thonn, "but then I lost it."

"It's never lost, just dormant. Sometimes a particular material is all that's needed to wake it once more."

"I don't know that I want to wake it," said Thonn, with a frown. "When the magic was strong in my veins I—I had no control over my actions. Why, I brought a stone house down on my family, killing them all, and then I was sentenced to death!"

"That is strong power indeed," said Willowmere, giving him a thoughtful look. "Do you recall the catalyst? Some element, perhaps?"

"Perlstone, my lady. I found a fragment on the path one day, and that's when it all started. Later, when they took it away, my power faded."

"Perlstone is rare indeed! They say it is formed when a dragon breathes its hottest fire on a piece of pure quartz."

"That's not such a rare thing," said Treeborne.

Willowmere frowned. "They say it must be formed in the light of the full moon."

"Getting rarer," said her husband.

"Breathed on by a newborn dragon with the power of human speech."

"Okay," said Treeborne. "Now you're just messing with us."

Willowmere laughed. "Indeed, but perlstone is truly rare, of that you can be sure."

"Just as well," said Thonn, in a low voice. "If it were lying around everywhere, my power would consume this land."

"Oh, such power can be useful once you learn to control it." And with that, Willowmere gave him a knowing look.

By now, they'd finished the delicious soup, and it was time for goodbyes. Outside the modest house, Tiera, Spadell and Thonn lined up while Willowmere prepared to observe the ancient elven ritual of Hjouseklaar. In this fashion, elves got rid of those odd little trinkets people bought back from their travels, which were fudd-all use for anything else.

"For you, Lonta Spadell of Chatter's Reach, I have this bronze cup brimming with water from our stream. When you are thirsty you may drink of it, and when it is empty you may replenish it from other streams."

"I thank you for your thoughtful gift," said Spadell, and he bowed deeply. The bronze cup was engraved with a phrase in the elvish tongue, all the way around the base, and as he turned it, trying not to spill the water, Spadell wondered what kind of mystical incantation was written there. He'd picked up a little of the elf language over the years, and from what he could tell the phrase began with 'My friends went to'.

"Thonn of… an unnamed village in Mollister lands," intoned Willowmere. "For you I have this special gift, passed down to me from a great-aunt who liked to watch newborn dragons in the light of the full moon. She claimed they spoke to her in the human tongue, but then she always was a bit strange." Willowmere took out a skinny leather thong, which was threaded through a tiny bead of polished grey stone.

"Is that…" began Thonn.

"I know not whether this is the perlstone your power requires, but perhaps you can write and let me know."

Thonn bowed his head, and Willowmere tried to drape the necklace around his neck. Unfortunately his head was too big, and the necklace jammed around his scalp like a circlet, with the small bead of stone pressing into his forehead. She tried ramming it down harder, but it was stuck.

Unmoved by Thonn's wince of pain, Willowmere moved on to her final victim. "Tiera, of the Grey Mountain people, I have a special gift for you."

"I can't wait," muttered Tiera.

"I was saving this for my daughter, Allyance, but she's a modern girl who doesn't believe in marriage. So, you might as well put it to good use." With that, Willowmere dropped a wedding ring into Tiera's open palm. "Once you have children, be sure to send me etchings, for human younglings are just too cute for words."

Tiera stared at the ring in shock, then stuffed it quickly into a pocket.

"Now you must be on your way, for we must tend to our farm and cook new food to replace all that you have eaten."

"Sorry about that," said Thonn.

"No, no, it is fine. We will go without for a day or two, until the next batch of soup is ready."

"This time I'll be sure to add more salt," said Treeborne pointedly.

"Really, if you'd said something—"

"Go now," said Willowmere, and there was no doubting this was her final word on the matter.

The three companions set off across the fields, leaving the elven cottage behind them. Tiera turned at the forest to wave her goodbye, but the elves had vanished indoors, presumably to cook another batch of food.

The trio proceeded into the forest, where Spadell trod carefully lest he spill the precious water. After a while he realised it was a waste of time, and he drained the cup in a single swig. "Bit coppery," he remarked. Then he glanced at Tiera. "A wedding ring, eh?"

"I don't want to talk about it," said Tiera flatly.

As they walked on, Tiera couldn't help noticing Thonn was setting a cracking pace, the lithe farm boy striding along the tree-lined path as though he'd been snacking on handfuls of sugar. He seemed to be taller and stronger-looking than Tiera remembered, too, and now that he'd discarded his silly little cape she found his lean figure, and his muscled legs and torso, particularly appealing. The loincloth didn't leave much to the imagination, either.

They came to a stream, where Thonn paused so they might catch up. A lock of hair fell across his dark eyes, and Tiera felt warm to her core as he fastened her with a look. "Which way?" he said, in a deep, manly voice.

"Huh?" Tiera shook herself, and closed her mouth with a snap. Something was happening to the farm boy, some kind of transformation which was distracting her, to say the least.

"Keep going straight ahead," said Spadell, who clearly hadn't noticed anything amiss.

Thonn nodded, turned and walked across the stream. Then, as he climbed the far bank, he encountered a buzzing cloud of midges. He waved his hand impatiently, and Tiera stared in shock as the cloud of insects was swept away by a sudden breeze. When she reached the spot, the ground was speckled with their lifeless bodies.

"Oh brother," she muttered, and she wondered what kind of terrible trouble Willowmere's parting gift had just unleashed on the Old Kingdom.