The elf was small and thin, her legs long, her waist narrow in a delicate balance of height and slimness, much like the few other elves Teldin had seen. The elf s straight silvery hair hung loosely over her shoulders, covering the distinctive sharp-tipped ears of her kind. If she was a sailor, her skin was bizarrely pale, almost translucent. The lips, nose, chin-all her features except her eyes-were thin. The simple leather and linen clothes she wore barely disguised her femininity. That in itself was a major contrast to the other sailors Teldin had seen.

The elf woman stood at the edge of the deck and made no attempt to invite Teldin aboard. “If we sail to Sancrist, what business is that of yours?” she asked coldly.

Teldin tensed. “A friend and I need to get to Mount Nevermind. We’re looking for someone who will take us as passengers.” The farmer could not suppress the proud defiance in his voice, especially since the elf s words came as such a challenge.

“You’re a human. This is an elf ship.” The sailor turned to leave as if that explained it all.

Anger rose within Teldin, and he walked farther up the gangplank. “Where’s your captain?” he demanded. “You’ve no authority to turn me away."

The elf wheeled around, her eyes hard. Only the faintest shimmer of golden light showed through her narrowed lids. “I am Cwelanas, the mate. For you, that is as good. But if you want to talk to the captain, I will summon him.” The elfs words were cold. “Wait here. Do not step on board.” The elven mate disappeared down the companionway at the head of the sterncastle.

Teldin waited nervously at the edge of the deck, uncertain whether he had just ruined any hopes of getting to Sancrist. There was still a chance, if the captain was any more reasonable than the mate. It was not a possibility that filled the farmer with confidence. He wondered what he could say or what he could offer that could possibly make a difference. Teldin’s fears were interrupted by voices from the companionway, which he could barely make out.

“I do not like him, father,” spoke the woman’s voice. Teldin’s heart sank as he recognized her.

“You do not like any human, Cwelanas. I will meet with him and decide. Perhaps he will be different.” The second speaker sounded like an older man. His tone was calm and reasoned, a contrast to the mate’s fiery temper. As quickly as he had lost heart, Teldin regained his hope. Footsteps sounded on the stairs.

“My mate tells me you seek passage,” spoke a soft yet firmly commanding voice. Teldin feigned a small start of surprise and turned to the speaker. Slightly stooped with age, the patriarchal elf captain still stood taller than his daughter. Long arms, seeming little more than skin over bone, dangled from the bottom of a near-sleeveless robe. The elf s face was tight and drawn, the skin so translucent that Teldin could almost see the old elf's cheekbones, even the sharp crease of his nose, through it. The elf captain’s hair was white and silky thin, hanging in a long fringe around the top of his balding head. He was, for Teldin, a stork-man, glistening pearly white with a sharp-beaked face. His daughter, the mate, stood on the stair slightly behind him.

“Yes-umm-Captain,” Teldin answered, genuinely startled. The farmer had not known elves could look so old. He moved to take a step forward.

“Stay.” The captain held up his hand, an order for Teldin to move no farther. Confused, the human froze. The old elf seemed to glide across the deck to the gangplank, his feet moving like water over the boards. “Forgive me for not inviting you aboard. By the custom of my people, if you step on my ship, I am bound to accept you. Now, where is it you seek to go?” The elfs tone was cold and imperious.

“Mount Nevermind,” Teldin answered nervously.

“The Isle of Sancrist, then.” The old elf captain appraised Teldin through half-closed eyes. “And why would you seek a nestful of mad tinkers?"

Teldin stopped, uncertain whether he should answer the captain’s question. He opened his mouth but was cut off.

“Never mind.” The captain dismissed the question before it was answered. He slowly drifted away from the gangplank, as if his interests were already being pulled elsewhere. Unconcernedly staring away from the human, the captain continued, “I apologize for my dau-my mate’s behavior. Please understand that a seaman’s life is difficult, especially in your human ports. She finds it much more comfortable to remain on board with me. I am Luciar.” With an unpretentious flourish, the captain turned and bowed politely to Teldin. “And you . . .

“Teldin Moore of Kalaman, sir,” the farmer hurriedly offered as he awkwardly bowed in return.

The captain mulled the name briefly. “Why come to my ship?” he finally asked.

“The harbormaster said you were sailing to Sancrist,” Teldin patiently explained.

“‘Even as the last of leaves falls, so shall I count them,'" murmured the old elf, quoting from some source Teldin did not know. “He spoke truth, but not wisely. Did he not say this was an elf ship?”

Teldin nodded. “Yes, sir, he did.”

“And he warned you that elves would never take you?”

“Perhaps he said something like that,” Teldin allowed, “but I didn’t choose to believe him.”

Cwelanas, standing behind her father, made a face as if to bite Teldin. Her teeth clicked sharply together and her eyes were half-closed with dark contempt. Although Luciar certainly heard her, he paid his daughter no attention. “And what do you believe?” the old captain asked.

Teldin hesitated, then, in a rush, he remembered the awful charnel house the neogi had left behind at Liam’s farm. Drawing himself up straight, he boldly spoke, “It is important for me and my companion to reach Mount Nevermind. It is a duty I owe a friend.”

The elf captain stepped closer. “Brave talk for one so young. Why should I take you aboard?”

“I can pay,” Teldin offered. “A little, at least.”

Luciar politely turned away so as not to laugh in Teldin’s face. His daughter reddened, reckoning the human’s words as an insult. Bristling, she made ready to spring to Luciar’s defense, but before she could act, the old elf held up a single bony finger to restrain her. In gently biting tones, he admonished the brash human before his deck. “If your precious pieces of steel had been all I ever wanted, then this would have been concluded long ago. We elves ask for more. Could you lead my shipmates in a merry jig? Dance them until they are spent? Hold them enthralled, like the rooted willows, with the playing of your pipes? Do you know the lays of the lost dreamings? Would you even climb the mainmast to bathe in the golden waters of the sun?" A sorrowful tone crept into the old elf's voice. He turned and hobbled across the deck to the stairway, now moving like one afflicted by great age. "I cannot take you. You have nothing to offer me," Luciar called as he disappeared down the companionway.

Stung at the old elf's rebuke, Teldin made to follow. "But I must- " As quick as a blur, the human found his way blocked by Cwelanas, standing catlike before him, a long dirk in her hand. She smiled fiercely, waiting for him to move. "I told you, human," she purred triumphantly, "this is an elf ship." Teldin thought better of a fight and reluctantly turned and plodded back down the gangplank. He fumed to himself, the lunatic elf captain, and his arrogant daughter.

Teldin found a niche in the shade, away from the afternoon sun and away from the elf ship. The distraught farmer folded his lanky body and settled into a quiet doorway to brood . Sitting on the stoop, his chin resting in his hands, he watched the legs of pedrestrians go by, not even making the effort to look up to see the faces that connected to the boots, shoes, and sandals that clicked across the cobblestones before him.