The Simbul’s Gift

Alustriel had the decency to be shocked and the grace to keep her opinions to herself. "I found a very nice woman in the palace below. She's human, but her mother was half-elf and she's got a brother in the forest. She knows what Tay-Fay needs. She'll help her understand that her brother won't be coming back."

"I know that, but how, by the coruscating frosts of Talimesh, do you know that?"

"Children listen and children talk. Tay-Fay told me about Sulalk before I summoned you. She told me what happened to her parents, in the stable when you saved her brother's life and when she told him that you were stealing his colt, the spell-ride to the Yuirwood, and the look in Bro's eyes when the two of you were bargaining."

"All this time, you've known all that and you've been asking me questions as if you didn't." Alassra smiled. Her teeth showed; she didn't care. "Which one of us do you believe, sister?"

"You, of course," Alustriel said quickly. "But, what drew your attention to this Zandilar's Dancer in the first place? A vision? Who is Zandilar?"

"The Old Mage thinks she's one of the goddesses the old Yuir elves worshiped in addition to the Seldarine pantheon—or, maybe, before them. He's been helping me with the research. I've been trying to get him here, as I'm sure you know. Once I had the colt in my stable, I thought... Well, the infamous birthday gift, as you said."

"You know, 'Las, you truly should think this through. A child, if Tay-Fay's any indication .. ."

Alassra set her cup down. The bowl cracked; the handle broke. "I have thought this through. I'm not planning to have twelve—" She stopped in mid-tirade. She'd just felt a sharp pain on her scalp, as if she'd plucked out an exceptionally well-rooted hair. She glanced out the window where the coming storm hid the moon and stars. "Cold tea and scones! Sundown. I told him I'd be there at sundown." She glared at her sister.

Alustriel scrutinized the specks floating in her tea. "I thought about it when the sun set. He doesn't want to come to Velprintalar ... I assumed you knew. I assumed you were letting him keep his horse."

"Well, you assumed correctly—for now, anyway. He had nothing from Sulalk, not even shoes. I left him a knife and my boots. I was going to take him better kit."

Alustriel was on her feet. "We'll take it now. He'll understand."

Alassra started to object that Ebroin wouldn't understand anything, then abandoned the notion. Alustriel charmed elves; poor Ebroin wouldn't stand a chance. He'd probably agree to follow her to Silverymoon.

"He's in trouble. I gave him a token—a strand of hair. It just broke."

"What are we waiting for?"

The sisters clasped hands. The cozy chamber vanished and was replaced by Yuirwood shadows. They were alone on the bank of a stream-fed pool. Bro wasn't there. There were no signs of a fight or ambush cut into the moss. No indication that any Cha'Tel'Quessir had visited the pool recently.

"You're sure this is the right place?"

Alassra had been transporting herself around Abeir-toril for nearly six hundred years. She wasn't perfect, but her mistakes were few and far between—until now. In two days, two spells had dumped her in out-of-the-way parts of the Yuirwood; the same part of the Yuirwood, unless she missed her guess. The forest had always been chancy for wizards, but only a blind fool would fail to detect the beginnings of a new and ominous pattern.

She opened her mind, searching for a piece of herself. If her senses could be trusted, a strand of her hair was nearby.

"It's the place that drew me. Whether it's the right place—look for yourself." Alassra hadn't meant for her sister to take her words literally, but Alustriel stripped off her gown and sandals. She dived head first into the dark-water pool, causing Alassra's heart to skip beats until a silvery wreath broke the water's surface.

"He didn't drown."

"There were other—safer—ways to learn that."

"And waste more time, if he was under water."

Alustriel paddled to the side of the pool. Alassra knelt on the bank, offering her hand. The sense that her hair was nearby had grown stronger. Squinting, she caught a glint of silver in an eddy on the pool's far side. Alustriel swam and brought back a forked twig to which Alassra's hair had been carefully attached. She took her sister's hand and climbed onto the bank where she shed a graceful waterfall and was completely—perfectly—dry.

One of the twig's tines was empty, the other wasn't.

"He had help," Alassra decided.

"You gave him a knife. I assume the steel was good enough to cut hair."

"Umm ... But what I felt was this end coming loose. This was notched and the strand attached before it was cut and I'd tied it around the arm he favored. He'd need help to perform that trick with his off-weapon hand."

"An extra pair of hands, perhaps, but help?"