City of Jade

3

ARDEN VALE

MID SUMMER TO MID AUTUMN, 5E1010

[THE FINAL YEAR OF THE FIFTH ERA]

Three months after the end of the Dragonstone War, and four days after returning to the Elvenholt of Arden Vale, a young giant of a man-a tall, gangly youth, some six-feet-ten in height-took it upon himself to confront yet another god. The young man’s name was Bair, son of an Elf and a Baeran-Riatha and Urus their names. Bair was no ordinary being, for he was the Impossible Child, the Dawn Rider, the Rider of the Planes. And just like his father, Bair was a shapeshifter, but into a Draega-a Silver Wolf-rather than into a Bear.

Though he was yet a youth, the lad had a storied past, for he and the Elf named Aravan had recovered the long-missing, legendary Silver Sword from the bowels of the Black Fortress at the Nexus on Neddra. Together they had used the weapon to save not only Mithgar, but all of creation as well; to do so they had slain the god Gyphon with that very same sword.

Bair arose from bed in the middle of the night and made ready to go on the mission he had set for himself, and as he stepped from his chamber the aroma of freshly brewed tea was on the air, and from the shadows Riatha said, “Wouldst thou have a cup with me?” She brushed her golden hair from eyes such a pale grey they seemed almost silver, and looked up at her son. At a slender five-feet-six she was tiny by comparison.

Bair nodded and sat, and she poured. As the lad took up the earthenware mug, Riatha said, “Thou art dressed as if to hie on a journey, and I deem I have seen in thine eyes a lingering from the war.”

Bair nodded. “Ythir, the mission I took up with Aravan is not yet fulfilled. There is still that which must be done, perhaps as important-or even more so-than that which we have done so far.”

Riatha raised an eyebrow, and Bair plunged on. “I need to speak with Adon Himself.”

Now Riatha’s silver eyes flew wide. “Speak with-”

“Adon, Ythir. Adon.”

Riatha took a deep breath and then slowly exhaled, and she calmly asked, “About. .?”

“About Durlok’s staff and Krystallopyr and the Dragonstone. About prophecies and auguries and redes. About a stone ring and an amulet of warding and a falcon crystal. About tokens of power fashioned long past with destinies set to come to fruition in these days. About a debate long ago concerning free choice versus control. And about what Redclaw said to Dalavar concerning Adon, the Drake naming Him Adon Plane-Sunderer, Adon Meddler, Adon Falsetongue. For all those things I have named and more do I need to speak to Him.”

Riatha turned up both hands. “But why?”

“To take Him to task.”

Riatha leapt to her feet. “What?”

“To take Him to task,” repeated Bair. “Oh, don’t you see, Ythir? Redclaw was right, but only partly so.” Bair threw out a hand to forestall Riatha’s objections. “Hear me out, Ythir: no matter Adon’s intentions, the full of the tale is, we have all-all Elves, Hidden Ones, Warrows, Baeron, Dwarves, Humans, Dragons, Mages, Utruni, and even the Foul Folk-we have all been used as mere pieces in a vast tokko game played by those we name gods. And it’s time it stopped.”

“But, Bair, surely thou canst not believe-”

“But I do, Ythir. I do. Look, if Adon and Gyphon had settled this between themselves long past-by combat to the death, if necessary-then we wouldn’t have been mere pawns in that long-played game.”

Now Riatha did frown and sit again, her look thoughtful. She sipped her tea and then said, “What thou dost say is in part true, but let me ask thee this: if it had come to combat to the death, and if Adon had lost, then what would the world be like under the heel of Gyphon?”

Bair’s eyes widened, for clearly he hadn’t thought of such. And from a doorway to the side, Urus said, “Mayhap, lad, mayhap all the things you name, the things which you and Aravan and we and many others did, in this time and in the past, mayhap that was Adon’s and Gyphon’s combat to the death, and only by Adon using us could Gyphon be defeated.”

Bair turned to his sire. Like all Baeron, Urus was a large man, some six-feet-eight and well muscled and weighing in at twenty-two stone, and much like the creature he at times became he had brown hair, grizzled at the tips, and amber eyes.

As Riatha poured a third cup of tea and set it before Urus, Bair fell into deep thought. But at last he said, “Nevertheless, Da, I need to speak to Adon still, for I am the only one who can do so and return.”

“But what is it that you would say to Him?” asked Urus.

“Just this: things have been done which now need undoing, the Sundering of the Planes for one.”

Riatha gasped, and then said, “Oh, Bair, if the ways between the Planes were opened, then we could. . we could all once again. .” Her eyes filled with tears.

Urus reached out and took her hand and stroked it, and then said to Bair, “I deem she would have you do so.”

Bair nodded and then said, “I will ask Aravan to go with me, for as I say, this is but a continuation of the same mission we took on times past, he much longer than I.”

Bair and Aravan were gone from Mithgar for nearly three months, elar and kelan travelling to the Ring of Oaks in the Weiunwood to cross the in-between, Aravan in the shape of a black falcon and borne across by Bair. And when they returned, a host of Elves came, too-Daor and Rein among them, Riatha’s dam and sire-for the ways between the Planes had been made whole again. .

“What?” Riatha looked at Bair in puzzlement.

“I said, Ythir, that the ways to and from Neddra have been made whole as well, and the Ban has been rescinded.”

“But why?”

“Oh, don’t you see, Ythir? Any interference subverts free choice, free will, not only for us but for all.”

Bair looked toward the black-haired Elf who lounged against the wall. Like all Lian, he was slender, but at six feet he was a bit taller than most of his kind. “Help me out, kelan,” said Bair.

“His argument was quite eloquent,” said Aravan, fixing Riatha with his sapphire-blue gaze, “and in the end he not only persuaded Adon, he persuaded all who attended: Lian, Dylvana, and the gods.”

Riatha turned to Urus. “But to free the Foul Folk to work their will. .?”

“Mayhap without Gyphon and His agents driving them,” said Urus, “they will be less inclined to do their ill.”

“For that, Bair has a plan,” said Aravan, grinning. “One with which I am in hearty accord.”

“What?” asked Faeril-the damman Warrow-who had served as a loving aunt to Bair from the very day he had been born. “What is it?”

Bair ran his fingers through his long, silvery hair. “Just this, Amicula Faeril. .”