Terry Brooks - The Elves of Cintra

Culph shrugged. "Well, I had help. And I know a few things about getting places. Flying hot–air balloons is a skill I mastered some time back, for example. Come out of there, and I'll tell you everything. We can take as much time as we need."

Kirisin walked toward him, treading lightly on the dragon's icy tongue, stepping carefully over its rows of teeth and out into the cav–ern chamber once more. He had his solar torch back on–it was work–ing again–but he kept the light lowered so as not to blind the old man. Culph, for his part, had set down his own torch, letting its beam flood the space that separated them in a wide arc.

"I still can't believe you made it all this way," Kirisin said. "Or even that you managed to find us."

"As I said, I had help." The old man smiled. Then abruptly, as the boy stepped into the circle of his torchlight, he held up his hand. "That's close enough. Why don't you just stand where you are while we talk?"

Kirisin stopped short, surprised at the change in the other's tone of voice. Then he caught sight of something just behind Culph, a figure slumped on the ground. Simralin. He recognized her clothing and blond hair. She lay motionless, blood on her face.

"Stay where you are, Kirisin," Culph ordered quietly, and now he didn't sound anything at all like Culph. "Don't give your sister another thought. She's fine where she is."

Kirisin stared at Simralin's still form and then at the old man. "What's going on? What happened to her?"

"She took a blow to the head. A rather hard blow, I'm afraid. She's a strong young woman." Kirisin stood frozen in place, trying to make sense of what he was hearing. "Did you do this?" Culph shrugged, and then nodded. "I had to. She was a distraction."

"A distraction? What are you talking about?" Kirisin blinked. Then a cold realization swept through him. "You," he said quietly. "You're the …" He couldn't bring himself to say the word demon. "All this time."

The old man nodded. "All this time."

Kirisin's heart sank. He gestured toward his sister. "Did you kill her?"

"Kill her? No, that would serve no useful purpose. I just made sure she wouldn't interfere with us. I need her alive so that you don't do anything foolish while we talk. You won't, will you? Do anything fool–ish? You won't make me really hurt her, will you?"

Kirisin glared at him. "You killed Erisha. And Ailie. And you tried to kill me. Why didn't you? If you wanted to stop us from finding the Loden, why didn't you just finish the job and kill me, too?"

The old man cocked his head quizzically. "What makes you think I wanted to stop you from finding the Loden? From finding any of the Elfstones, for that matter? Finding them is what I wanted you to do, right from the first time you told me the Ellcrys spoke to you."

He rocked back on his heels. "It's not so complicated, really. You and Erisha were searching for the Elfstones. If you found them, you would use them to save the Ellcrys. I thought it an excellent idea. So I researched the matter. I found the information I needed right away–not all of it, but most. I found some of it in the histories and some of it in the private notes and journals of the old families. As keeper of those records, I had access to all of it. I just didn't tell anyone what I had found. I made certain no one else found any of it, either."

"But you were helping us!"

"Just enough so that you would do what was needed, Kirisin. Never more. I gave you those bits and pieces to keep you looking. I didn't know what had become of the seeking-Stones after Pancea Rolt Gotrin's death. I knew they were buried with her, but not where she was buried. Some things were kept secret even from me. But you and your friends figured it out, and you got possession of them. I couldn't have done that, not as a demon and not even as old Culph, keeper of the Elven histories. It needed the right person, a Chosen committed to saving the most precious of the Elven talismans."

"But that could just as easily have been Erisha?" Kirisin was in–censed. "Why did you kill her?"

The demon shrugged. "Killing her was a way to make you run, you and your sister and the Knight of the Word. I needed you to leave the Cintra and go off on your own where you could be dealt with more easily. And of course, I needed you to go looking for the Loden. In any case, Erisha was never the one who was meant to wield the Elfstones. Any fool could tell that she was too weak–minded to do what was needed. It was always you. You were the strong one. You were the one who was determined. Killing her was the perfect way to fuel that de–termination."

He smiled, and that smile stung like salt on an open wound. "I have lived among the Elves as old Culph for a long time. Years. Before that, I was someone else. Before that, someone else again. But my disguise as Culph was the most useful of them all because it gave me access to everything crucial to understanding the history of the Elves. I could re–search their lore and discover their weaknesses. It was clear to all of us who serve the Void that at some point they would have to be dealt with. The question was when. And how it was to be done. They were a sizable nation, albeit less populous than humans. But still, a force with which to be reckoned. What was to be done with them when it was time to act? I watched and waited over the years, knowing the time was coming and the answers must be found. Old Culph, hardly more than a part of the King's furniture, was never suspected."

Having survived the first few minutes of the old man's admission of who and what he was, Kirisin was beginning to look for a way out of this mess. He had no plan other than to keep Culph talking–keep the demon talking, he corrected himself bitterly, for demon was what the thing that masqueraded as Culph was. As long as he kept it talking, he had a chance to find a way to escape. It didn't seem to be armed, didn't seem to have any weapon at all. But it had managed to overcome Sim–ralin, perhaps even to kill her. Kirisin hated himself for thinking it, but he didn't know if he believed that his sister was still alive.

Bitterness welled up, so strong it made him want to throw caution aside and attack the thing standing in front of him. But he held himself in check–talking, talking, and all the while searching for a solution to his dilemma.

He had a sudden burst of inspired hope. He had forgotten about Angel! She was still out there and coming his way. Maybe she would reach him in time to help

But then he remembered that the demon wouldn't have come alone; it would have brought that thing with it. "Where is your … the other demon, the one that tracked Angel?"

The demon smiled. "Both are outside. Renewing an old rivalry, I be–lieve. If it ends the way I expect it will, we won't see either of them again." It folded its bony arms across its chest. "As I told you before, I had help in this business. But I think any need for that sort of help is at an end."

Kirisin's mouth tightened. "Maybe things won't work out the way you think. Maybe you'll be sorry you ever used us like this."

"Oh, I don't think so." The demon made a dismissive gesture. "In any case, it won't affect us. I made sure we wouldn't be disturbed. This time belongs just to you and me, Kirisin. So let's make the best use of it. You are owed an explanation, and you shall have it." It paused. "Do you want to know about the King? Do you want to know why he was so determined to stop you?"

"I would guess it had something to do with you," the boy answered. He was gripping the Loden so tightly that the sharp edges were cutting into his palm. He relaxed his grip and slipped the Elfstone into his pocket. "Did you tell the King something that frightened him?" he asked, still trying to gain time.

"Very good. I did exactly that. I told him that I had found evidence that the Loden was created to shield the Ellcrys–which, of course, is true. I also told him that the wielder of the Stone was at considerable risk from the magic if it was invoked. I told him the lore revealed that the user of the Loden was bound to the magic, and the binding was al–most always fatal. The Stone sapped the user's lifeblood. Once sum–moned, the magic claimed the user's life as its own. I convinced him that his daughter would die as a result. He was desperate for an alternative, but I told him there wasn't any. The Ellcrys had made her choice, and the first summoned was the Chosen who must respond. His only option, I explained, was to let her complete her term as Cho–sen and force the tree to choose another. A Chosen no longer in service would not be acceptable. I convinced him that the tree was in no im–mediate danger and he could afford to wait. He was eager to believe this. He would have done almost anything to save his daughter."