“To Varlo,” said Halfdan, raising his mug.
“To Varlo indeed,” Bregnest replied without toasting.
chapter thirteen
Dwarf Realm
Morning came sooner than Alex would have liked after the company’s late night. It was wet and windy outside, though surprisingly warm. Skeld laughed at the weather in his usual manner, but the rest of them did not feel so happy. Halfdan complained loudly and asked more to himself than to his companions if it would be better to stay another day. Alex looked around the stable as he saddled Shahree, but there was no sign of Eric Von Tealo.
“A poor day to start, as Halfdan has noted,” Bregnest commented as they led their horses out of the stable.
“Poor or fair, Halfdan would rather have another drink than ride,” said Skeld, laughing merrily as he looked up at the sky.
Halfdan gave Skeld an evil look. The others saw the look and smiled at each other, knowing that Halfdan had consumed a large amount of the fine spiced ale of Techen the night before. Now his words and mood showed he was paying the price for his over-indulgence.
Ignoring the weather, they mounted their horses and Bregnest led them back to the city’s gates. The guards allowed them to pass with only a nod, obviously preferring their dry watch hut to asking questions in the rain. The company headed east, leaving the mud-colored city of Techen behind.
The rain continued to fall all day, but as night approached, the rain finally slowed to only a few drops. There had been little talk on the road, and Alex had spent the time thinking about his studies. He had learned the elfin letters and could read most of the book Iownan had given him.
Arconn was pleased with Alex’s progress, but each night, he insisted Alex spend some time with the magic book. Alex did what Arconn told him to do, though he worked much slower with the magic book than he did with the book Iownan had given him.
Alex had mixed feelings about magic, and a lot of questions as well. He didn’t doubt that magic worked; it was more that it seemed too easy. He worried that if things were too easy he wouldn’t appreciate them, that he might start to think of magic as a common thing.
Of course he was pleased that he could start fires and put them out with a simple command, and he was also pleased that the same magic had allowed him to defeat a troll. He could see that magic might be very useful, and he knew that learning more magic would be helpful. The voice at the back of his mind, however, warned him that magic could also be dangerous. Alex thought he should understand magic better before learning too much of it.
By the next morning, the rain had stopped completely, though the sky was still cloudy and dark. The winds had died down as well, and even Halfdan seemed to be in a better mood. The road was slick and muddy so they moved slowly. Arconn continued his practice of riding ahead or off to the side, returning with some item for Alex to identify.
This routine went on for a week, and on the eighth night after leaving Techen, Alex finally asked Arconn, “How much further is it to the Brown Hills?” He was supposed to be studying his magic book, but his heart wasn’t in it.
“Tired of the journey already?” Arconn asked with a smile.
“No,” Alex replied. “I was just wondering how far away the hills are. Bregnest made it sound like the journey might take years, but I don’t see how it could.”
“If we could journey directly and without incident from the great arch to Varlo, it would take us four months, maybe five,” said Arconn. “However, we cannot ride directly to Varlo, and as you know from our encounter with the bandits and the troll, we cannot go far without meeting some kind of trouble.”
“Then why would it take years to travel from Techen to Varlo and back again?”
“As I said, we cannot go untroubled,” answered Arconn. “Though trouble might not be the best choice of words.”
“Is there a better word?” Alex asked, closing the magic book.
“Burdened might be better. After all, I would not call our visit to the White Tower trouble, but it was a burden.”
“How can you say that?” Alex questioned. He didn’t consider their visit to Iownan a burden.
“The Oracle gives knowledge, and with knowledge comes responsibility,” said Arconn. “Knowledge and responsibility are always a burden, even if we accept them willingly.”
“I understand,” replied Alex. “And will there be other places, like the tower, where we must stop before we reach Varlo?”
“Indeed there will be, though to say we muststop is not entirely accurate. Perhaps it is better to say that we chooseto stop. There are many places ahead of us where we may choose to stop—not least of which is the dark forest. Many of my kinsmen still live in this land after all and the dark forest is their home.”
“Your kinsmen?” Alex asked, surprised and delighted.
“Of course,” replied Arconn with a smile. “And we shall meet some of Thrang and Halfdan’s kinsmen as well when we reach the Brown Hills. Though dwarfs are not always as friendly with other dwarfs as elves are with other elves.”
“Dwarfs aren’t friendly with their own families?”
Arconn laughed happily. “Are you so friendly with your own family?”
“I have no real family,” Alex answered softly. “I only have a stepfather and a stepbrother.”
“Are not all men of the same family?” Arconn questioned thoughtfully. “Men live but a short time in most lands. They soon forget their own past.”
“Is it different with elves and dwarfs?”
“It is very different, especially for elves,” replied Arconn. “Dwarfs live many hundreds of years. Elves do not grow old at all, as I have told you.”
“So you remember your own past better,” Alex said.
“Yes, we do. Perhaps it is because we live so long that we remember so much more.”
“Will you live forever?”
“Perhaps,” Arconn replied thoughtfully. “Though as I told you, elves can die as surely as any other living thing.”
“It seems sad, in a way, that you go on living for so long,” said Alex.
“To many of us it is. And many of my race have left the known lands to find peace.”
“I remember you mentioned fading,” said Alex, thinking back to when he and Arconn had talked about this before. “Is fading like asking to die?”
“Nothing like that,” answered Arconn, his smile flickering slightly. “Those who choose to fade . . . well, it is hard to explain. I would say they seem to sleep and slowly vanish from the land. They are waiting for the lands to be renewed, and then they will wake once more.”
“And the dwarfs, can you tell me about them?” Alex asked.
“Ah, well,” Arconn began. “Perhaps Thrang or Halfdan should tell you about their own people, as I see things as an elf and not as a dwarf.”
“Please,” Alex persisted.
“Very well, I will tell you as I see it,” Arconn consented. “As I said, dwarfs do not live forever and to an elf their lives seem short.”
“But much longer than a man’s.”
“Much longer than mostmen,” Arconn corrected. “The dwarfs were once one people, living in one land. As time passed, they have spread to most of the known lands, and perhaps to a few lands that are not known to any but themselves.”
“So they have forgotten that they are one people?”
“Not at all,” Arconn replied, pausing for a moment to think. “Dwarfs know that they are one people, unlike men. However, they do not give their trust easily to strangers, even of their own kind. They are true in their friendships, but it is a hard-won friendship.”
“Will the dwarfs in the Brown Hills be unfriendly to us?”