Chapter 2

Okay… Where did the elf go?

Did he seriously just leave her there? Oh, that was so not cool. What was she supposed to do now? In all her twenty-three years of life, Kate had barely left the city where she'd grown up, wilderness survival was firmly outside her skillset. Unless you count watching commercials for those reality shows where they dropped somebody in the middle of a random forest with nothing but a water bottle and a pocketknife for supplies, and filmed them fight their way back to civilization, which Kate didn't. She'd never even watched an episode, not that it was likely to help much, and all she had was a book.

Yeah, this wasn't good.

Okay, don't panic. Lindolir was gone, yes, but he had to have come from somewhere, right? That meant there was probably a town or village somewhere nearby, or at the very least, a road. All Kate had to do was find it, then she could get help and figure out some way to get home.

Of course, that was easier said than done. Lindolir hadn't left any obvious tracks to show which way he'd gone, so following him was out.

There was a map in the book, but even if Kate was in Taleria, and the Meadowood Forest because that's where Lindolir lived, the map wasn't too detailed on its forests. All it showed was a bunch of trees with a few small houses dotted here and there representing villages, and that was no help at all, especially without knowing where she was starting from.

Well. There was nothing for it, she supposed. She would just have to pick a direction, wander as straight a line as she could and hope she stumbled onto something useful before her legs gave out.

"Yup, I'm gonna die!" she said cheerfully. Gotta stay positive, after all.

She turned to the left, because, for no reason she could ever say, she'd always been partial to that direction, and anyway, without a path to follow, it was as good a choice as any.

She hadn't taken more than a few shaky steps when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye, and turned just in time to see Lindolir step back into the clearing with one eyebrow raised as if to say, 'where are you going?'

"Well, you took off, what was I supposed to do?" she said defensively, crossing her arms over her chest, even as a wave of relief washed over her. She was pretty sure her chances of survival just shot up about ninety-five percent.

He frowned, then made that 'follow me' motion he'd used before, and thankfully, this time he waited for her to catch up before walking away.

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Trudging through the forest was not fun. Crashing through the underbrush, snapping twigs and stumbling on exposed roots, Kate felt about as graceful as a wrecking ball, especially in comparison to Lindolir, who somehow didn't disturb so much as a leaf in his passage. Then again, Kate reasoned, she'd been paralyzed less than an hour before, so she was doing pretty good just staying upright.

Still, the trek was wearing on her, and it wasn't long before she was huffing and sweating like she'd just finished running a marathon, which was something she swore she'd never attempt again, not after the last time. Oy, that had been a bad idea.

So yeah, it sucked, but as she didn't see any better options, she plodded along a few feet behind Lindolir and managed okay—at least until they joined a nice, smooth, well-maintained path. That, of course, was when she tripped over her own feet and nearly planted her face in the dirt. Lindolir's lighting quick reflexes saved her, catching her before she could hit the ground, and though she had no idea how he'd even known she was falling, walking ahead of her as he'd been, she was grateful for it just the same.

He said something that sounded part concern, part scold, and if Kate's face hadn't already been beet red from exertion, embarrassment would have done the job. However, as she had no desire to get better acquainted with the ground, when he offered her his arm, she gladly took it.

It was that steady support, coupled with the gentle sounds of the forest and the light, cool breeze ruffling through her hair that allowed Kate to relax a bit. Watching the rhythmic swaying of the dog's tail as it happily trotted ahead of them relaxed her even more. She sighed, letting her eyelids droop, just a bit, just...

She snapped her head up and forced her eyes back open with a little gasp.

Whoa. That wasn't good. She'd almost passed out. While walking.

"Uh, Lindolir?" she asked.

He stopped abruptly and hit her with a sharp look.

"Or… whoever you are," she continued cautiously. "Um, where are we going?"

He studied her for a long moment before starting forward again as he answered, "In dau uvernia te."

"Een… dow oov airnia tay," Kate repeated with a slow nod. "Right. Don't know why I asked." Still, she hoped it meant something along the lines of 'not far' because she wasn't sure how much longer she could keep this up.

As luck would have it, it wasn't far, but Kate was still ready to drop when they stepped free of the treeline onto a steep riverbank about ten minutes later. The path they had been following continued on over a wide stone bridge arcing across the river and ended at a pair of great doors set into a rock wall, flanked on either side by massive stone pillars carved to resemble trees with delicately twisted roots curled about the base, and leafy branches densely woven together into a ceiling high above.

Two guards stationed near the doors stood watch over the bridge, clad in green and brown armor and armed, from what she could tell, with both swords and bows.

They stopped near the edge of the path where Lindolir gently lifted her hand from his arm, said, "Daradwen. Cara," and held up a hand, palm out, before striding across the bridge.

Well, that was pretty easy to decipher. Kate slogged over to the nearest tree, a birch, she thought, though it was bigger than any she had ever seen, and rested her back against it, sliding down its smooth trunk until she was sitting with her knees pulled up against her chest, grateful for the break. Swiping a bit of sweat from her brow, she watched Lindolir for a few seconds—he seemed to be consulting with the guards—before she let her gaze wander past him.

Away from the doors, the earthen wall began a slope that quickly turned to a gentle incline sparsely covered with enormous old-growth trees, their roots clinging to the rock, digging in wherever they could find purchase. A rich green moss covered the exposed roots and crawled partway up the trunks, lending a youthful vibrancy to the dignified elders. Verdant leaves covered their branches, with the ones nearest the river seeming to strain for those on the other side, like lovers separated by circumstance, longing to meet, yet falling just short of contact.

A steady but faint roar spoke of a waterfall somewhere nearby, and when Kate leaned forward and stretched out her neck a bit, she could just make it out, clear waters leaping from a high cliff down into the river below.

It was wonderful, peaceful, unbelievably beautiful, and more than a little disconcerting, because Kate knew this place. She had seen it dozens of times in her minds eye as she read the Talerian Chronicles, and the movies had even made a passable facsimile of it for the Meadowood scenes, but she had yet to catch sight of a single camera or crewman or anything else even remotely modern.

No, there was no way this was a movie set. Which left her with only two options. Either she really had been somehow transported to Taleria—a place that was not supposed to exist—or she had gone insane.

And with my luck, it's probably the latter, she thought as she watched Lindolir head back across the bridge.

She began to heave herself to her feet—just as a huge brownish-green blur dropped from the tree above and landed in a crouch. She fell back with a gasp as the thing stood, revealing himself to be another elf.

"Oh, you bastard!" she yelled, as her heart tried to hammer its way out of her chest. "So not cool!"

She glared at the elf who was, of course, unfairly handsome, with long, sleek raven hair tied back from his face in a half ponytail and perfect, unblemished skin straight out of a skin care commercial. His lips twitched in a little smirk as Kate glanced past him to see Lindolir rolling his eyes, and when she looked back, the smirk was gone, replaced by something she couldn't quite read.

"Vui toelle…" he murmured, slowly reaching a hand toward her head.

She jerked out of reach, knocking her head painfully against the tree and rubbed at the sore spot with a wordless imprecation as he dropped his hand and stepped back with a hurt look.

"Nuh uh, I'm not gonna feel bad for you buddy," she muttered. "No touchy."

"Tebuil uvnachen, in uviras arunte, min lerian," he said softly.

When she only stared at him, he put a hand to his chest and slowly repeated, "Lerian."

Kate recognized that word. It had been used often in the Talerian Chronicles books, and even more in the movies; Lerian, Friend. She supposed that meant he wasn't intending to attack her, which was a good thing, but that stunt he'd pulled didn't exactly inspire a lot of trust.

So why did she want to trust him?

Okay, yeah, he was gorgeous, but Kate had never been one to be so easily taken in by mere beauty. A pretty face could hide a lot of sins. No, there was something else going on here, and she wasn't sure if she liked it.

Maybe she'd hit her head harder than she thought.

She pulled herself to her feet again, keeping a careful eye on the new elf—no sudden moves, buddy—and it took some doing, as every muscle she had was firmly against the idea, but she was standing tall by the time Lindolir reached them. Though, not as tall as the new elf, dag, he was big. At 6'1, Kate was no slouch, but he had at least a foot on her. She'd thought it was just the way he loomed over her when she was on the ground that made him seem so big, but nope, it was just him. She idly wondered if he was tall for an elf, or if Lindolir was short, as he about matched her height.

"Nadh daud uvpeledh eselen," Lindolir said.

"Cui in wae talase." The other elf turned his head slightly as he addressed Lindolir, but his eyes never left Kate. "Mal tif nadh? Nadh taried anem sillaer nel bin nadhed ellad."

"In dau uvistan. Nadh tif toelle, tif uvnadh?" Lindolir said, with a slight tilt of his head. "In feren nadh reil Celedril Saen, uvirithren aclenn."

Whatever Lindolir said seemed to shock the new elf as he turned sharply to meet the other's gaze before asking, "Celedril Saen? Vui daur nadh irith ora gaes bin anem tiranen? Idhas mir ledenren, mir nael?"

"In uvistan," Lindolir answered, then seemed to hesitate before adding in a quiet, worried tone, "Aduil… nadh peledhse min ineth.

The other elf snapped his attention back to Kate so quickly she jumped, and wow, she did not like the look he pinned her with. Had she done something to offend them? No, how could she have, she'd just been standing there. She crossed her arms over her chest.

"What?" she snapped.

The two just stared at her—and that wasn't disconcerting at all—until Lindolir said, "Nadh taried pardh lann puil tar angweth."

The other elf dropped his gaze just for a moment before he nodded and held out his hand.

"Anem pardh, areth," he said.

Now it was Kate's turn to stare. Did they really not get this 'I don't speak your language' thing? And what was with the hand? Was he asking her to go somewhere with him? If that was the case, he needed to let his face in on the plan, because it didn't look too inviting.

She was still trying to work out the meaning of the words when they became all too clear as the elf reached for the book in her hand.

"Oh, no. No no," she said, pulling it back.

"In ielle ewae anem pardh, areth," he said more slowly, as if that would make her understand.

The problem was, she did understand, and it just felt like a bad idea. Okay, yeah, it was written in English, and as they clearly didn't speak it, they probably couldn't read it either, but could she take that chance? Taleria was a world of magic, after all. For all Kate knew, they had some kind of spell or runestone or something that could translate the written word. And while that would be good for her, communication-wise, it would be really bad for them.

"I'm sorry, you can't have it." She moved the book behind her back to better get her point across.

Lindolir took a step forward and offered a friendly smile. "Iras te anen anem pardh emin, min lerian?" He held out a hand.

"Nuh-uh." She shook her head, backing into the tree.

Lindolir shrugged as if to say, 'well, I tried' and the other elf let out a small huff and thrust his hand out a little further.

"Anen anem pardh emin," he said, with a hard edge in his tone that left little room for interpretation.

Dag. Now what?

Kate glanced away as she considered her options. Door number one: she could give them the book and just hope they wouldn't be able to read it. Or, number two, she could yell, 'look over there' and run like hell into the forest, taking her chances with bears and wolves and whatever else might be lurking in there. She might be able to make it. Assuming she didn't collapse after two steps. And could outrun elves. Who were armed with bows, and had home court advantage.

She sighed and handed it over.

"Annonte," the tall elf said as he took the book from her, then turned on his heel and walked away, with Lindolir trailing close behind.

They stopped just out of earshot—which was rather pointless, it wasn't like she could understand them—and opened the book.

Pretty sure she wasn't invited to this little pow wow, Kate leaned back against the tree again and settled in to wait. She watched the two examine the book, trying to unravel the anxious knot in her stomach by reminding herself that they wouldn't learn anything they shouldn't, not from that book, there was no way they could read it, it was going to be okay.

She almost believed it too, until Lindolir pointed at something in the book with interest and her anxiety spiked. Had he seen his name? No, wait, that didn't make sense. He couldn't have recognised his name; English letters were different from Elvish. It was probably just one of the chapter heading illustrations, Kate decided. They were pretty, and some of them had a bit of Elvish writing, though nothing damning. Just things they would already know about, like the inscription on the Gates of Tarnael. They continued flipping pages and she relaxed, just a bit.

Still, watching them was stressing her out, so she tried to focus on something else, the swiftly flowing river carrying the occasional fallen leaf or stick, or the birds in the trees, brightly colored and singing sweetly, but her gaze kept wandering back to the elves. Or, more accurately, to the tall elf with the silky black hair. To his full lips pressed together in concentration as he studied the book, his leaf green eyes darting across the pages. To his armor, the same as the guards at the other end of the bridge wore, hugging his lithe form, accentuating muscles that spoke of a swift and deadly grace. And back to those eyes again, and the adorable way they crinkled just slightly at the corners when—he looked right at her, crap!

She quickly glanced away, feeling like a kid caught peeking at the answers to a test. Which was ridiculous, she scolded herself, it wasn't like she'd been checking out his butt. The angle was all wrong for that. But that was beside the point. He was pleasing to look at, so she'd been looking, that was all, like a piece of artwork at a museum; nice while it lasted, but nothing to get worked up about.

And now I'm comparing the jerk to art, she thought, I really must be tired. It didn't help that the clouds she had turned her focus to happened to look a lot like pillows and blankets, all big and soft and fluffy. Oh, and when she closed her eyes, she could almost feel it, crawling into a bed of clouds, cocooned in their gentle warmth, it was like something out of a cartoon and she shivered at the thought. And again, as a light wind brushed her hair out of her face. When had it gotten so cold?

The shivers kept coming and Kate wrapped her arms around herself, thinking maybe it was just exhaustion, maybe sitting down would help and it was only then, as she felt cool grass beneath her fingers, she realized she already had.

Ooh, that, that's not…um…not…probably not…good.

She forced her eyes open a crack—when had she closed them—just long enough to see the comfy clouds blocked by a blurry face before the strain became too much and she gave up, letting them drop closed with a shudder.

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Translations

"In dau uvernia te." - I do not understand you.

"Daradwen. Cara," - Stay here. Rest.

"Vui toelle…" - How strange…

"Tebuil uvnachen, in uviras arunte, min lerian," You need not fear, I will not harm you, my friend.

"Nadh daud uvpeledh eselen," - It does not speak Elvish.

"Cui in wae talase." - As I have gathered.

"Mal tif nadh? Nadh taried anem sillaer nel bin nadhed ellad." - What is it? It carries the summer sky in its hair.

"In uvistan. Nadh tif toelle, tif uvnadh? In feren nadh reil Celedril Saen, uvirithren aclenn." - I do not know. It is strange, is it not? I found it near Cauldron Pond, unmoving and ill.

"Celedril Saen? Vui daur nadh irith ora gaes bin anem tiranen? Idhas mir ledenren, mir nael?" - Cauldron Pond? How did it move so far into the forest? Past our wardings, our patrols?

"In dau uvistan. Aduil… nadh peledhse min ineth." - I do not know. Aduil… It spoke my name.

"Nadh taried ipardh lann pui tar angweth." - It carries a book which may hold answers.

"Anem pardh, areth," - The book, please.

"In ielle ewae anem pardh, areth," - I wish to have the book, please.

"Iras te anen anem pardh emin, min lerian?" - Will you give the book to me, my friend?

"Anen anem pardh emin," - Give the book to me.

"Annonte," - Thank you.