The boys had awakened and eaten, and without discussion the party had left the campsite near the river. They had moved for the better part of the day, and had paused only long enough to eat some dried meat and fruit at midday. Then they had moved steadily through the trees until an hour before dusk.
Galain had gone hunting while Althal made a fire. Within the hour, Galain had returned with a brace of rabbits. While not sumptuous fare for four adults and two children, there was enough so that no one slept with hunger pangs.
Morning came too quickly for exhausted children and two tired women, but they were again on the trail as the sun rose in the east. By noon they encountered a patrol of hunters who quickly exchanged information with Galain and Althal. The conversation was lost upon Ellia, who was ignorant of the subtleties of elven communications, and Miranda missed a great deal.
Near midafternoon, they came to an enormous clearing. Ellia stumbled, her mouth opening in awe, and even Miranda was impressed.
Across the clearing rose a mighty city of trees. Boles to dwarf the mightiest oak rose high above them, blotting out the sky. A canopy of leaves formed a massive roof above the trunks that stretched away beyond sight. Dark green, the awning of treetops was punctuated by an occasional tree of a different color, some golden, others white, a few sparkling with emerald or azure lights. A soft glow seemed to tease the limits of vision, as if a magic haze enveloped the entire area.
Galain said, “Elvandar.”
They crossed the clearing, and as they approached the nearest trees, Miranda could see figures moving. Workmen labored, curing hides, fashioning weapons in forges, and carving wooden implements. Others fletched arrows, worked stones, or prepared food. But the common nature of these tasks took nothing from the impact of the city itself; Elvandar was perhaps the most magical place upon the world. Soothing sounds, rather than the loud noise of workers, filled the air, and voices were musical rather than harsh.
Reaching a giant tree, Miranda saw stairs had been cut from the living wood of the huge trunk.
“If you have a fear of heights, say now, Miranda.”
Miranda came out of her revery and saw Galain studying her and Ellia. She said nothing, shaking her head, and Galain led them upward.
As they climbed, Miranda saw that some of the larger branches were flat on top, forming narrow roadways upon which elves walked, moving from tree to tree. Many of the trees were hollow, and what seemed to be small dwellings were fashioned inside.
The elves who passed smiled in greeting, and several were openly delighted upon seeing the twin boys. Most wore leather, brown or green in color, but others wore soft robes, decorated with gems or beads. All were uniformly tall; some were fair, but others were as dark of hair as was Miranda.
A few wore furs and carried weapons, with metal-studded armbands and necklaces of gold set with precious stones. These looked openly at the women in curiosity, and their expressions were less friendly when turned upon Galain.
As they passed, Althal spoke. “The glamredhel are still not completely at ease here. But then they’ve been with us but a short time.”
“How long?” asked Miranda.
“Those two who passed, not yet thirty years.”
Miranda had to suppress a laugh. “Barely a long visit.”
Galain turned and smiled, showing he understood her humor. She wasn’t sure if Althal shared his understanding.
To the back of a large branch a platform was anchored, and from it rose a stairway of wood and rope. Mounting it, the two elves escorted Miranda and Ellia to another, larger platform, and along a broad thoroughfare. This led to a maze of platforms, small markets, and meeting areas, and at last they reached a gigantic platform, dominating the very heart of Elvandar.
Entering, Galain led them to the center, where he faced two figures sitting upon a dais. He and Althal gently put the boys down and bowed. “My Queen,” Galain said, “and Tomas.”
The woman was impressive, a regal-looking elf with golden-red hair and eyes the color of ice-blue glaciers. Hundreds of years old, she looked much as a human would in the prime of youth, her face unlined and her body still straight and limber. Her features were chiseled and delicate, but there was strength in her bearing.
The man at her side was even more striking, for he was not quite human or elven in appearance. Six inches over six feet in height, he was broad of shoulder and deep in the chest without looking bulky. His eyes were an even paler blue than his companion’s, and his hair was sun-streaked yellow. His features were human: even brow with straight nose, full but not soft mouth. Yet somehow an agency had molded those features, casting an alien image over them. He was too regal to be handsome, yet when he smiled, a boy’s charm appeared.
The woman rose and Miranda bowed, and Ellia looked confused. At last she curtsied clumsily, while the boys clung to her.
Ignoring formalities, the Elf Queen came up to Ellia and gently took her in her arms and embraced her. Then she knelt before the boys and touched each upon the cheek. She said something softly, and Ellia said, “I don’t understand.”