Bearers of the Black Staff

THE LITTLE COMPANY FROM ARBORLON SET OUT shortly after dawn on the following morning, heading west and north toward the towering peaks that cradled Aphalion Pass. They traveled down off the heights and back onto the lowland lake country of Eldemere that Pan and Prue had traversed on their way to the Elves, angling north across the upper stretches of the meres. The weather had changed during the night, clouds moving back in from the rim of the valley, leaving the sky overcast and the light gray and hazy. A thin mist was falling as they set out, and their clothing was soon layered in damp droplets that sparkled like tiny gemstones.

Panterra Qu breathed in the clear, sweet smell of the early-morning air, fresh with the taste of earth and plants pungent with the ripeness of new life. He was clearheaded and well rested after a good night’s sleep, excited by the prospect of exploring the pass and encouraged by Phryne Amarantyne’s success with her father. She walked beside him now, her angular face bright with expectation, her eyes shifting from place to place, taking everything in. She had an economical gait, a measured way of walking that demonstrated she had hiked long distances before and knew how to conserve her energy. He liked the way she had refused to allow anyone to help her with her backpack, but insisted on carrying it herself. She had also made it clear that she would share in all the chores and tasks, would stand watch when it was needed, and would appreciate it if they called her by her first name and not her royal title. She had also advised that she expected to stand with them before her father when they returned with whatever information they were able to cull from their investigation, good or bad.

Clearly, she meant to be an equal member of their company and to do her own heavy lifting, figuratively and metaphorically.

He caught her smiling at him. “What?” he asked, smiling back.

“I was just thinking of what I told my father to persuade him to allow me to make this trip with you.”

“Tell me. You haven’t said a word to anyone about how you managed it.”

She shrugged. “You wouldn’t be interested.”

“I would,” he insisted. “I think you must have been very clever.”

She gave him a look that suggested she thought he might be making fun of her. Then she seemed to decide otherwise. “All right. I told him I wanted to come because of you. I said I wanted to know more about you, that you were interesting. But I said you were not comfortable among the Elves and would reveal little while in Arborlon. Away from the city, up in the mountains with just the five of us, you might be more relaxed.”

It was his turn to study her. “You told him I was interesting? He must have been curious about me after that. What else did you say to him?”

She laughed. “Not much. I just told him you were interesting. I hope it turns out to be true. It would be a shame if I had to admit I was wrong.”

He couldn’t quite read how she meant that, but he felt the gentle nudge of her teasing. She was testing him. Why would she do that? “I guess I don’t want to be the one to prove you wrong. But I don’t think I’m the best judge of whether or not I’m interesting.”

“No, of course not,” she agreed. “I have to decide that for myself. Oh, I also told him you were here in spite of express orders not to come. I told him the Children of the Hawk did not approve of Elves, but that you cared more for your friendship with Tasha and Tenerife than you did for the disapproval of the sect.”

“That much is certainly true.” He wondered if she actually knew about his problems with Skeal Eile and the sect. Tasha might have said something, but that wasn’t like Tasha. “I’m not really in any trouble.”

“Well, my father doesn’t need to know that. He just needs to know not to say or do anything that will cause you some.”

They walked on in silence for a time, heads lowered against a gusting wind that had begun blowing down out of the mountains. Tasha was in the lead, his broad frame acting as a windbreak for the rest of them as they wound their way through the tangle of the meres. Tenerife walked beside Prue, talking to her in low tones, his eyes on his brother’s back. Both Elves were heavily armed with javelins, longbows, hunting knives, and short swords. They carried small bags of throwing stars, as well, and daggers stuffed in their boots. He and Prue, on the other hand, carried only their longbows and knives. Phryne didn’t seem to be carrying any sort of weapon. All five shouldered bedrolls, food, extra clothing, and medicines stuffed in backpacks.

The Elven Princess dropped back momentarily, apparently having lost interest in their conversation, but then suddenly she moved up next to him again, closer now than before, her eyes on his face. “Tell me something interesting about yourself.”

He looked over at her to see if she was joking. “What sort of something?”

“Something I might not learn on my own without knowing you better than I do. Something no one else knows. Something about the sort of person you are. Maybe about why you’re a Tracker and not a mushroom hunter or a farmer.”

She looked at him expectantly, and he laughed. “If I were a mushroom hunter or a farmer, I would starve to death.” He furrowed his brow. “Besides, there’s not much of anything about me that Prue doesn’t know already. So you might have to live with sharing any insights I offer.”