Элейн Каннингем - Elfsong

“Hold your fire,” Danilo commanded. He took the lute strap off his shoulder and quickly checked the instrument’s tuning. “Whatever that thing is, it’s too big to be brought down like that”

He began to play the introduction to the song that had lulled the dragon, hoping it would have the same effect on this creature. Wyn took his lyre and joined in with the musical spell. From far above, the magic-bearing melody bounced back to them, echoed by a trilling, avian voice. The eerie sound raised the hair on the back of Danilo’s neck and sent a shiver of fear down his back. Nevertheless, he continued to sing.

As if drawn by the music, the enormous creature dove down into the clearing and landed on the sagging roof of the abandoned farmhouse. Leaving its torn prey draped over a gable, the monstrous songbird swooped into the garden and landed a few paces from the spellsingers.

Roughly the size of a war-horse, the beast had the form and the distinctive gray-and-white-speckled feathers of a mockinglark, a morning lark who imitated the song of other birds. But this creature also had the lethal talons and hooked beak of an eagle, and in the center of its head was a single enormous eye, as glossy and black as obsidian.

It made no move to attack, and it cocked its head quizzically as it listened to the magical song. Again it joined in, warbling along in perfect imitation of Wyn’s soaring countertenor. As the bizarre trio continued, Danilo noticed that the bird was blinking more and more frequently, its enormous eyelids meeting in the center of the shining black orb. The blinking became more languid as the creature sang itself to sleep. Finally the eye stayed closed, and the bird’s song faded into a regular, prolonged chirruping. The avian version of a snore, Danilo noted with deep relief. He ended the song and ran his shaking fingers through his hair.

“The power of elfsong at work,” he said with quiet emphasis, nodding toward the slumbering monster. “This is how it could be used.”

Wyn lowered his instrument and took a deep breath. Before he could speak, Elaith walked up to enormous songbird. The moon elf drew his sword and slashed the sleeping creature once across the throat.

Indignation flooded the minstrel’s face. “That was wanton and unnecessary! The creature was no danger to us, and no elf ever willingly kills a songbird!”

“I am an elf, the bird sang, and it is dead,” Elaith pointed out coldly. “Perhaps you should review the facts and reconsider your conclusion. Now, if you two wish to linger in this charnel house, that is your concern. I’m joining the others at the creek.” With that, the elf leaped nimbly over a broken stone wall and ran lightly toward the south.

Wyn’s green eyes burned with wrath, and he looked as if he did not quite trust himself to speak.

“In this particular matter, I wouldn’t be too hard on our silver-haired friend,” Danilo said. “I’ve learned enough about elven traditions to know how you folk feel about the destruction of living trees and harmless creatures, but you’ve got to admit that this was no ordinary songbird. Perhaps Elaith’s reaction was extreme, but it was not entirely unwarranted.”

“It’s not that alone. Elaith Craulnober violates elven mores and traditions at every turn. He is lawless and amoral.”

“Really! Just picking up on that, are we?”

“But he is an elf!” The protest burst from Wyn with the force of a shattered icon.

Danilo sighed heavily. “You left Evermeet when you were very young, did you not? Since then you have traveled exclusively among mankind.”

“Yes, that is so.”

“The eyes of youth perceive only sunshine and shadows. A thing is right and good, or it isn’t.” The Harper smiled ruefully. “I am prone to that sort of thinking myself, so I do not judge you. As I am fast learning, sometimes one must simply do the best thing possible under the circumstances. If humans have a strength that sets us apart from elves, it is that knowledge. Of course, that is also our weakness,” he added in a wry tone. “You’d do well not to trust the moon elf, but perhaps you should understand why he is what he is.”

In a few words, Danilo told the story of Elaith’s dormant moonblade and his self-imposed exile from Evermeet. “What drives him now I do not know, but of one thing I’m sure: in his heart Elaith Craulnober is as deeply and fully elven as you are. No one who saw him dance the magic linking star and steel could doubt that. Unfortunately, being an elf and being virtuous are not necessarily one and the same. Most people tend to forget that, and this is one reason why Elaith’s career has been so successful.”

“You have made your point.” Wyn studied the Harper. “You seem to know and understand a good deal about the elven people.”

“I ought to. For two years, I traveled with a half-elf who was raised in Evereska, amid elven people and customs. She considers herself more elf than human, although in my opinion she embodies the superlatives of both races.”

“I see.” Wyn smiled faintly. “It can be difficult to love someone so different from oneself.”

“Wait a minute. Did I say that?”

“You didn’t need to. Your loss is recent and deep, and it is in your eyes whenever you sing. Perhaps that accounts in part for your wisdom.”

“If I were all that wise, I wouldn’t be standing around in a place like this, blathering on like a five-copper sage,” Danilo said, distinctly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking. “Let’s get back to the others. Come with us, friend elf,” he called, and at his summons the hermit promptly crawled out from his hiding place in the bushes.

The three of them walked in silence for some time, each deep in his own thoughts. At the crest of a large hill, the camp came into sight, nestled in a clearing bounded by Ganstar’s Creek to the west, and thick woodland to the east. Apparently Elaith was impatient to be off, for the horses were saddled and the gear packed. The cookfire had been doused, but the scent of woodsmoke and roasted fish lingered in the air.

Wyn paused at the crest of the hill and laid a hand on the Harper’s shoulder. “Elaith Craulnober was correct about one thing: it is time for me to reconsider my thinking about elves and humans. You would wield the Morninglark with more honor than either Elaith or the elf who now possesses it I will do all I can to help you recover the artifact And if you still desire to learn elfsong, Danilo Thann, then it would be my honor to teach you.”

Before the startled Harper could answer, Wyn’s face turned ashen, and he pointed to the sky. “The asperii! There it is!”

Danilo squinted in the direction Wyn was pointing, but his eyes were not as keen as the elf’s. He thought that the small moving spot could just as well have been a bird. “You’re sure?”

“He’s sure,” the elven hermit said, peering up at the sky. “Flying horse, no wings. See you later!” He scampered off into the woods nearby.

Wyn’s golden face clouded with concern. “The campsite below is surrounded with trees. From this hillside we can see much farther than the others! If this is an attack, they’ll never see it coming.”

“Maybe the sorceress is just passing by on her way to Waterdeep?”

Wyn shook his head and ran one hand through his ebony curls in an uncharacteristically nervous gesture. “Look. The asperii is circling.”

High above Ganstar’s Creek, Garnet ordered her exhausted asperii to circle the camp. From her vantage point in the sky, the adventurers looked like so many ants as they moved busily about the clearing. The half-elf’s blue eyes narrowed as she considered the site. The camp was surrounded by verdant woodland. She smiled slowly, and silently bid the asperii to begin a spiraling descent.