But suddenly just before he began his spell-casting, the relic of a being that once was full of life lifted his raw, bleeding hands, seemingly oblivious to pain, and pointed at the half-elf. 'There is one more thing you must know," Kishpa whispered. "Someone will try to stop you from freeing my Brandella."

"Who?" asked Tanis, leaning lower to hear better.

"Me."

As Tanis recovered from his surprise, the mage intoned words that Tanis had never heard before. The otherworldly sounds were musical, not so much language as an intricate series of notes. Kishpa repeated them again, then a third time. Tanis glanced at Clotnik.

"It's not working," the half-elf said softly.

Clotnik glared. "Shhh!"

But then the mage closed his hands into two fists, shook them, and then opened them again. Dead skin dropped from his fingers in ribbons, but the mage didn't appear to notice. He closed his fists a second time. Shook them. Opened them. Closed them a third time. Shook them… and then Tanis disappeared.

The dark pit

Tanis was still looking down, but instead of seeing Kishpa lying on the ground, he saw the black leather boots of a soldier, toes pointed in his direction. Tanis immediately lifted his eyes, catching a glint of sunlight on the blade of a broadsword swooping straight down toward his headl

Elves revere life. Before a battle, elven troops and leaders gather to ask forgiveness for the lives they will take in the coming dispute. But this time, there was no time to move, think, or feel. Suddenly, another sword came from out of nowhere to block the downward sweep of the first. There was a loud clang as steel struck steel. and a voice shouted, "Draw your blade!"

Tanis didn't need to be told twice. Instinct from a lifetime of battle experience took over. He threw his right shoulder into his attacker, knocking him down, then pulled his own silver-inlaid broadsword from its scabbard. He intended to protect himself while getting away from whatever madness he had been plunged into. Standing at the ready, he quickly realized that he was in the midst of a small group of elven and human soldiers engaged in deadly hand-to-hand combat in an opening in a forest.

The half-elf had but one problem. He didn't know which side he was on.

A human soldier, his long, brown hair greasy, settled the issue when he lunged at the half-elf, his sword's point aimed at Tanis's heart. Tanis parried deftly. The human countered by swinging his sword in a wide arc, trying to slash the half-elf's left arm. Tanis sidestepped the flashing blade, kicking the human in the stomach. The soldier clutched his belly and doubled over in pain, his groans mingling with the cries of other humans and elves in the glade.

An elven soldier, seeing the human down and defenseless, stepped in front of Tanis and brought his saber down hard across the back of his enemy's exposed neck. A life ended.

Tanis wanted to look at the faces of the soldiers and search for his father. But with the air heavy with the stench of blood and sweat, with death at every turn, he didn't have the luxury of studying the features of all these potential killers. Better to get away, he decided. Before he could manage it, though, another human attacked, slamming his shield into Tanis's back. The half-elf went down face first. Leaping onto Tanis's prostrate body, the soldier threw away his shield and pinned the half-elf under his greater weight. From the corner of his eye, Tanis saw a huge, slablike hand scoop up a heavy rock. The half-elf fought for survival, wrapping his arm around one of the human's legs and then heaving with all his might.

The rock went flying out of the soldier's hands as he fell over onto his back and spun halfway around. Tanis didn't kill this one, either. Instead, he swiftly rolled in the other direction, grabbed the human's shield, and used it and his sword to hold back the surging skirmish line of enemy soldiers.

But not for long.

"More humans!" cried an elven voice in warning. Tanis instinctively knew exactly where to look. He felt the ground shaking, and he knew it was cavalry. The horsemen could only be coming from the open field to the east. In the strong light of late morning, they thundered across the meadow and swooped down on the small elven defense force with cries of vengeance. Lances impaled the elves, and swords cut them to pieces.

It was a rout. Tanis managed to knock one rider off his horse and break the lance of another, but there were too many.

"Retreat!" cried an elven leader. Then, more to the point, he yelled, "Run!"

Tanis fled, pursued by two humans on horseback. It was a hopeless race, and Tanis knew it. He needed protection fast. Off to his left, he saw a tree stump. It wasn't much, but it would have to do. He veered, the horsemen gaining on him with every step.

He reached the stump and circled behind it just moments before the pair of horsemen closed in on him. Delaying the inevitable, Tanis swung his sword and hacked off the point of one lance before ducking below the point of the second spear, which whooshed past his ear.

The horsemen galloped by him, kicking up a cloud of dust that blinded and choked Tanis. He tried to breathe, to clear his eyes, knowing that he had to be ready for the horsemen when they turned to make another pass at him.

He heard the horses rear and neigh, and then came their pounding hooves, drawing closer yet remaining unseen somewhere beyond the slowly settling cloud of dust. He heard the screams of other elves, unseen beyond the cloud, as they suffered death blows from the humans. Tanis steeled himself, hoping he would see the horsemen before it was too late. Then, just a short distance away, he saw the horses. The riders leaned forward to get a better look at their victim as they charged in for the kill

That's when the two hands reached up out of what proved to be a hollow tree trunk and grabbed Tanis from behind, pulling him down into the darkness.

Tanis lay stunned on the damp ground, his face caught in a dim shaft of light from the killing field up above. He felt something-A sword? No, too blunt. A stick7- poking him in the side. He stirred.

"Life is wonderful. Without it, you'd be dead," a voice whispered. A laugh followed from the darkness.

"Who are you?" Tanis asked, dazed from the fall.

The voice was harsh, gravelly, and deep, despite its current hush. "I'm called many things, very few of them complimentary, but my name is Little Shoulders Sco- warr. And I'm not sure that's so complimentary, either."

"You're a human?" Tanis said, searching the ground for his sword.

"Your sword is just a little to the right of your hand. Be careful of the blade," Scowarr said. 'Tour eyes will get used to the darkness soon."

The voice may have come from a human, but its owner had rescued him from the other humans. And enemies tend not to help their foes find a lost weapon, Tanis conceded. He grasped the sword and eased it into his scabbard. He could just make out a figure in the shadows.

The voice rose to a tenor now but remained whispery. "Come with me, but keep your head down. This is a very narrow tunnel."

The half-elf followed the shadow into the gloom until there was no shadow, only a voice: "Before those soldiers showed up, the village was so healthy they had to kill one of its citizens just to start a cemetery."

Tanis was only half listening. "Is this village called Ankatavaka?" he asked.

He felt, rather than heard, his companion come to a dead stop before him. The voice sank deep again, with a new, irritated rasp. 'That's a joke, boy. Where's your sense of humor?"

Under the current circumstance, the half-elf thought, a sense of humor paled next to traits necessary for survival. "Please… is it Ankatavaka?" he persisted.