Too, there came the day that Elyn’s ribs were unbound. And she followed Thork’s example, practicing with weaponry to regain her muscle tone and to rehone her skills: swinging saber, warding with long-knife; working her spear as quarterstaff, blade, and javelin; hurling sling stones; stringing bow and loosing missile.
When it came to casting arrows, she and Thork would engage in contests, he with his crossbow, she with her re-curved bow of Jord. And time and again they would prove once more that the crossbow struck truer and harder at close ranges, while the hand-drawn bow was the better afar. And they would come away from these tests of skill in good humor, for both had won, neither had lost.
At last, hale and fit, they finally prepared to leave the Wolfwood. It was not that either wished to go, for they had both come to love the shaggy forest, even the Dwarf of carven stone caverns, even the Woman of wide grassy plains. And both had come to love the Silver Wolves as well. Yet, love of Wolfwood, love of Wolves, neither could hold them, for a higher duty called, and they could not ignore it, though it meant hardship and peril in the days to come. And so they brought Wind and Digger to the cottage, and gathered together that which was theirs, lading the animals with weaponry and food and grain and other goods to see them on the long journey ahead.
And the Wolfmage came unto the twain and said that he must speak with them ere they set forth, but in a place of his choosing. And he led them unto a nearby tiny glade, a wee clearing shielded by a circle of overarching oak trees, a place that they had not seen before. The shadowed round was grown with a soft green sward, a plush carpet of bladed grass tipped with tiny yellow flowers. Nearby, a flowing spring bubbled clear, sparkling over rounded rocks while speaking the gurgling language of clean water rushing along a tumbling path. And in the center of the minuscule glade was what Elyn called a Fairy Ring: a circle of Moon-pale mushrooms within a luxuriant growth of a low mossy fern. Carefully stepping over the edge of the Ring and bidding the two of them to do likewise, the Wolfmage sat them all down in a circle center, deliberately placing Elyn and Thork and himself at what would be the points of an equal-sided triangle. On the outside of the ring sat the gathered Silver Wolves, a circle of five within a circle of nine, the Draega bearing silent witness to those within.
“I have brought you to this place of protection for a reason, for I would speak to you of Andrak. And what I have to say concerns your mission as well. I have not called you here ere now for you were not yet ready, not because you were wounded, but because when first you came you would have found it too hard to accept what now will be revealed. Even at this moment there is a chance that it will force you apart, yet I think not, though it is certain to strain the bonds between you.
“Andrak sits in a strongholt in the mountains of Xian. It is from there that he has been using his dark powers to direct the Foul Folk and others against you. For he fears that you are the ones spoken of in the elden prophecy, the two foes of one another bound together in honor:
One to hide;
One to guide.
From around his neck the Wolfmage removed a leather thong upon which depended a silveron nugget. He held it out to Elyn. “Take this, Lady Elyn, and wear it, for I deem you are the ‘one to hide.’ It is a device for protecting you from enemies, a thing that will keep them from seeing you. I have merely been holding it until it was needed, and I ween that time has come.
“You would perhaps call it a thing of ‘magic,’ but I do not understand what is meant by that word. It is simply a thing of hiding. Nay, not hiding, that is the wrong word; mayhaps instead it should be called a thing of unpresence. Regardless, I was wearing it the night you came unto the Wolfwood, the night you did not see me until I willed it. Oh, I was not invisible, and you could have seen me at any time, had you willed it yourself. Nay, this token does not render the wearer invisible, but, rather, unlooked at. For those who do not have the will, as well as for those who do not know the power of sight, they will glance everywhere but straight at you, peering around your edges, in a manner of speaking.
“It will protect both you and Thork from Andrak’s detection, for its scope is such that he will look around both of your edges, as long as Thork stays near at hand; hence, Andrak will not know just where to send his foul creatures to intercept you. Yet ’ware, the closer you come, the more likely he is to find you, and the closer Thork must be unto you, Lady Elyn. Here, remote from Andrak’s holt, you can ride as always, remaining somewhat apart, taking care of your separate needs, as your privacy demands. But if you draw nigh Andrak, you must be within a step or two of one another, else the one not wearing the nugget will of certainty be found. Yet should Andrak think to look past this. . barrier, then nothing will conceal either of you, nugget or no.”
Slowly, Elyn reached out and took the remarkable gift, and stared in fascination at it glittering in her hand. “I do not have the. . the training, the knowledge to. . command. . it,” she said hesitantly.
“Fear not,” responded the Wolfmage, “for it needs no commanding of yours. Aye, there are those like myself who can use it to its fullest. But for you, no bidding on your part is necessary, for it will ward you and Thork when enemies are at hand, when those of hostile intent would seek to do you harm. Simply keep it with you and you will remain. . unlooked at. . unlooked at by foe, remove it from your presence, and you shall be seen again. But remember, if the foe be one of power who thinks to look past the hindrance, then he will see you, whether or no you wear the token. Put it on now, Lady Elyn, for you are both about to set forth from my domain, and I would not have Andrak find either of you.”
As Elyn slowly placed the thong about her neck, tucking the silveron token down into her leathers, the Wolfmage gave a grunt of satisfaction, though neither Elyn nor Thork could see that aught had changed.
“One last thing about the silver stone, Lady Elyn: if you are the one, then it is written that this nugget will protect you in horror’s domain; yet there will come a time when you will sling it from you. . but that is as it should be, for the token, too, has a destiny to fulfill; it is so ordained.”
As Elyn pondered these bodeful words, the Magus turned to the Dwarf, handing him a large cloth with a draw cord. “Here, warrior, take this shield cloth and cover the Dragonhide, for even the power of the nugget cannot conceal that glittering rainbow from hostile eyes. The cover has no device upon it, but that is as it should be, for you go in stealth.”
As the Dwarf accepted the cloth, the Wolfmage spoke on: “Thork, I deem it that you are the ‘one to guide,’ for you are a Châk and cannot lose your own footsteps. And days will come when this gift of the Châkka will be sorely needed by you both, if indeed you are the wayfinder foretold of long apast, one of the two foes bound together in honor. Even so, it is written in the prophesy that one will die without the other. Hence, beware stepping beyond the protection of the nugget, for then you will be revealed. Stay close. Ward well.”
“You read much into this prophesy of yours, Mage,” growled Thork, folding the cloth. “Yet what makes you think that we are the two it speaks of?”
“It is not only I who deem it so, Warrior Thork,” answered the Magus. “Andrak sends his minions against you because of it.”
“But why?” queried Elyn. “Why would he, why does he, set the Foul Folk upon our track?”
The Wolfmage spread his hands wide, palms up, as if explaining an obvious fact. “Because I ween ye both seek that which he wards so jealously: the Kammerling.”