"On the contrary," Dalamar retorted. "We are partners in this quest. We are both looking for the Tower, but we both know that we will need the most powerful wizard of each of our three orders, working in concert, to restore the powers of godly magic. I know that you are the mistress of the Red, and I am the master of Black. And there is no White wizard anywhere, so far as we have been able to learn. But you and I both know that for some reason-perhaps he is losing his wits, in the wake of his return to our world-Solinari has appointed this naif, this silly wench, as his own champion. She is destined to wear the White Robes!"

"Ridiculous! First of all, she is neither naif, nor silly wench," Jenna replied tartly. "She does know some magic. True, it's mostly wild magic, but at this point I don't believe that she is destined for anything. Be careful, Dalamar, lest your arrogance lead you into another mistake."

Jenna was right: The dark elf could not afford to be wrong, but he suspected that Jenna still was not telling all that she knew or believed.

"Perhaps you are right. But have a care of your tone, Red Robe." Dalamar pushed himself to his feet and started to pace before the massive log.

The forest was gloomy and cool, even early in the afternoon of a sunny summer day. The ferns were wet, and Dalamar looked down with distaste, seeing that the hem of his black robe was repelling the water that would have soaked a mundane garment through within a few seconds. "I still think she went looking for the Tower. Where do you think she went?"

"Her trail ends at the rim of this canyon," Jenna explained.

"Yes, on smooth stone. She's a hunter-she knows how to hide a trail. But I don't think she backtracked. Let's try pushing ahead, looking for the Tower ourselves."

Jenna agreed, and for nearly an hour they followed the stone ledge along the canyon, seeking signs that anyone had passed before them.

"There," said the dark elf at last, pointing to an almost invisible scuff where a branch had been smashed against a stone. "She went this way."

Dalamar started along the faint trail, noting a few crushed ferns where hasty feet had tripped. It was not long before he came to a pine tree standing at the rim of a small ravine. The brittle branches at the base of the tree were crushed, and when he knelt, he spotted dried drops of blood on the needles strewn along the ground.

"Hmm. She was determined to keep going, to get away from us."

"Well, we weren't very pleasant company," Jenna said, drawing a raised eyebrow from Dalamar.

"This way, then," the dark elf said. There was another crushed fern, then the footprint of a small moccasin in a muddy depression, and more signs of passage through the delicate undergrowth. The game path wound faintly among the lofty birches, meandering along the ravine, deeper into the forest.

Soon they came to a massive deadfall, a thick birch lying across the path. A bristling nest of stubby branches stood like a picket fence along the top of the log.

"Here's where she went down on a knee, broke those branches on the bottom so she could pass under it."

They struggled past the fallen tree. Squatting down on the other side, Dalamar could only see a stretch of muddy patches with a few deer tracks and some prints that belonged to either a small wolf or a large dog.

"We lost her," Jenna said.

"Or rather," Dalamar suggested grimly. "This is where Wayreth Forest found her."

Jenna looked shocked. "No, you go too far with your imaginings! Do you think… It couldn't be possible!" She pursed her lips, frowning.

"But it is possible," the dark elf said bitterly. "Give me a better explanation." He looked up at the treetops, the sky, and raised his hands.

"What about us?" demanded Dalamar, furious not with Jenna but with the forest, the Tower, the gods themselves. "Where is our entry?"

"Perhaps," she replied dryly, "the forest prefers her for some reason."

The dark elf snorted, planting his fists on his hips, and glaring at the murk of the wood. He was mocked by the mundane trees, the rotting vegetation, the utterly unremarkable surroundings. "We could look all day and never find Wayreth," he declared in disgust, "unless it chooses to let us."

"Such is the way of Wayreth," Jenna said with a shrug. "But my senses tell me that the wood is near-or at least, it was here."

"So do mine," Dalamar agreed.

"The Tower only responds to the Master's will, and to the gods."

"I remember, when I took the Test," Dalamar mused. "I learned that there were caverns deep under the Tower. Several of them extending beyond the periphery of Wayreth. It was said that Fistandantilus created them, as bolt holes and secret ways. One of them, the Nether Path, was supposed to provide a secret entrance into the forest. Do you know what they said about it?"

"I've heard of the Nether Path," Jenna acknowledged. She scowled thoughtfully. "But I always thought it was just a legend."

"Well, perhaps. But the legend claims that the Nether Path exists as a hidden cave. The mouth of the cave should be near to the path into Wayreth. When the forest opens to allow someone in, the Nether Path is always nearby. And according to the legend, the cave will always linger for some time, even after the forest has done its business and disappeared."

"Hmmm, interesting. But how does that help us? What kind of cave is it? There are hundreds of caves in these parts." She stroked her chin and looked around thoughtfully.

"Not right around here. I'd say, let's try the ravine," Dalamar said with a sudden eagerness. "Down there is where I'd look for a cave."

Both made their way over to the rocky rim. The gorge here was nearly forty feet deep, only half that distance across, giving it the look of a deep and savage wound in the surface of the world. The floor was littered with large rocks, with murky pools of water collecting on the low spots between.

Jenna quickly cast a spell, featherfall, and stepped off the rim of the gorge to float gently downward, coming to rest on a large, flat-topped boulder. Dalamar muttered a curse-that enchantment was not in the slender tome Palin had given him-and instead was forced to pick his way slowly, and carefully, down the cracked and broken slope. Halfway down, a rock broke free and he almost fell, scraping his knee as he jammed his leg.

"Careful!" Jenna snapped, looking up in annoyance and ducking out of the way of the debris.

The dark elf was in a thoroughly foul mood when, a minute later, he reached the bottom and found the Red Robe on the other side of a steeply angled fallen boulder. "See anything promising?" he asked, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice.

"There's an overhang just past those rocks. I can't see all the way inside from here. And there are quite a few shadowy niches under these big boulders scattered down here-we'll have to check all of them out."

An hour later, they gave up. They had found holes, niches, and many small caves, but nothing that promised entrance to Wayreth Forest.

"Out of the gorge, then, and back into the woods?" Jenna asked. Her face was streaked with grime, and tangles of her hair clung to her cheeks and shoulders. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, leaving a streak of mud.

"Yes, that is our only option," Dalamar agreed. "But we should hurry. Sooner or later the Nether Path-if it even exists-will vanish."

Fortunately, the ravine became a little shallower as they progressed along the bed, and they found a tumble of rocks forming a makeshift stairway leading back up to the forest floor, on the opposite rim. For the rest of the afternoon, they plodded through the pines. Darkness settled around them, deepening the gloom until Dalamar found it necessary to cast a spell of continual light on the top of a tall, straight pole he had been using as a walking stick, and with this to light the way, the two wizards continued.