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"It would please me greatly to know what this task might be," he said.

"A convoy goes to the Fortress of the Crowned Horns to bear the glad tidings of their liberation to the Crowned Horns' defenders, to tell Master Tyrvin his long task is at an end, and to begin to bear the inhabitants away to their homes. It has been much delayed by weather — something of which you and Redhelwar know as much as any, Kellen, for you have fought many battles through those mountains. And I know that you are weary and long for rest. Yet I would be grateful could you bring yourself to go into the north once more and bring my Queen and my son home to me."

"Yes, I… of course. I would be honored to lead such a convoy," Kellen said, after a short pause.

When Andoreniel had begun speaking, he'd thought it would be something difficult.

"I hope that Vestakia will accompany you on your journey. I know that the Enemy has been defeated, but… "

"It is still good to be sure," Kellen finished. "I cannot speak for Vestakia, but I'll ask her."
I'm sure that she's really looking forward to spending another moonturn camping in the snow.

But to his surprise, she agreed.

* * * * *

THE preparations for the convoy had all been made while Kellen had still been leading his troops toward Sentarshadeen. Kellen suspected that Andoreniel had hoped all along that Kellen would be the one to lead it north.

He really didn't mind. It was a simple easy task, after all that had gone before it. The land was at peace, and in the full bloom of Springtide. Though he rode armed and armored — but in a much lighter cloak and surcoat than he had worn for the winter fighting — he really didn't expect trouble.

Though, as always, he rode prepared for it.

* * * * *

THE journey took them a fortnight. At the end of the first sennight, they reached the village of Girizethiel and reprovisioned. Girizethiel marked the point at which the convoy left the rolling open country and began to ascend into the mountains themselves. Another sennight would see them at the Fortress.

Though the Unicorn Knights themselves were gone, the party was not without unicorn companions, for a small band of unicorns had apparently decided to accompany Kellen's party.

Including, of course, Shalkan.

"Why not?" Shalkan had said, when Kellen asked him about it on the first night of their journey. "Spring is a good time for traveling."

Knowing he would get no better answer, Kellen had left it at that.

And spring
was
a good time for traveling, especially this spring. The mountain air was crisp and clean, the forest they rode through once they left Girizethiel was filled with radiant new life. There were times when Kellen could almost convince himself that the past several moonturns had been some horrible dream.

He was not the only Knight with the convoy, of course. Four Twelves rode with him, Elves with family members at the Crowned Horns, who would be escorting them back to their homes. It would take time to empty the Fortress completely, but Sentarshadeen was not the only Elven city that would be sending wagons, only the first.

On the fourteenth day of their journey, they left the forest and rode out onto the plain below the Fortress. It was no longer the ice-covered plain that it had been the last time Kellen had seen it, but a meadow; with spring, the snows had retreated to the mountain slopes. All sign of the terrible battle that had once taken place here was gone, ice and snow had been replaced by a field of flowers, pink and white and blue, stretching as far as the eye could see.

Kellen and Vestakia were riding at the head of the convoy. It was peaceful to ride beside Vestakia. She was the last of his comrades who remained, the one who had been with him almost from the beginning. And while Kellen knew that she missed Idalia as much as he did, he also took delight in her constant wonder in everything new — and everything about the lushness of spring in the Elven Lands was new to Vestakia, since she had grown up in the harsh and nearly-barren Lost-lands.

Suddenly she stiffened and leaned forward in her saddle. Kellen put a hand on his sword.

"No! Kellen — look! It's Ancaladar!" Kellen stared where she was pointing.

At the foot of the causeway that led up to the entrance to the Fortress of the Crowned Horns, there was a familiar black shape. Ancaladar.

Kellen turned to Ornentuile, one of the Elven Knights who rode just behind them. "We're riding on ahead. You have command."

He spurred Firareth forward, racing across the meadow. Vestakia followed.

* * * * *

"IT is good to see you again, Kellen, Vestakia," Ancaladar said politely.

The dragon lay basking in the sunlight, his great wings spread.

"What are you
doing
here?" Kellen demanded. "Didn't you know we were all worried about you?"

"We've been busy," Ancaladar said calmly, not at all distressed by Kellen's exasperation and anger. "You should go and see Jermayan. You'll understand."

Kellen glanced up the causeway. Master Tyrvin stood at the bronze gates that guarded the entrance to the Fortress — open now — waiting for them.

Kellen gestured to Vestakia.

"Oh, I'll go," she said, sounding exasperated, "but be sure that when I come back, Ancaladar, I'm going to give you the scolding of your life!"

"Oh, I don't think so," the dragon said, sounding amused.

* * * * *

"WELL met," Master Tyrvin said, when Kellen and Vestakia reached the top of the causeway.

"We've come to bring you news," Kellen said. "But I think you may already have gotten it." He nodded back to where Ancaladar lay.

"That
Their
power has been swept from the land is word that has perhaps come to us indeed." Tyrvin smiled. "But come. There is news you will wish to have as well, perhaps equally joyous, and I shall bring you to Ashaniel so that she may deliver it to you."

He led Kellen and Vestakia inside, and through a maze of corridors down a path Kellen had not taken on his previous visit to the Fortress. Though he heard the sound of scurrying feet many times — indicating that the corridor was being hastily vacated — Kellen saw none of what must, by now, be the many inhabitants of the Fortress.

Tyrvin paused before a door and knocked.

Sandalon opened it.

The boy seemed to have grown at least a head taller in the moonturns that had passed since Kellen had seen him last. He flung himself into Kellen's arms with a glad cry of joy.

"Kellen! You've come back for us! And Vestakia is here, too!
Mother!
Kellen and Vestakia are here!
Oh!
" Suddenly the boy remembered his manners. He stepped back and bowed. "Please be welcome — in our home and at our hearth, Kellen Wildmage, Lady Vestakia."

Kellen reached down and ruffled the boy's hair. "And I See you too, Sandalon," he teased, stepping inside.

The first thing his eyes went to in the room was Jermayan.

The Elven Knight was sitting beneath a window — it wasn't a real window, for there were no windows anywhere in the Fortress of the Crowned Horns — but Ashaniel's chamber had been painted in the likeness of a tower room, with mock paintings of windows upon all four walls.

He was sitting beside a cradle, a look of utter peace upon his face.

Ashaniel sat at the other side of the cradle, gazing down into it with a fond smile upon her face.

"I have a new sister," Sandalon announced importantly. "She is very special."

Kellen and Vestakia walked over to the cradle and looked down.

The baby was very tiny indeed. She lay beneath her blankets, regarding the world with calm curiosity.

Her eyes were not Elven black, but violet.

And she had a birthmark — a silvery eight-pointed star in the hollow of her throat.

"By the Good Goddess!" Vestakia gasped. "It's Idalia!"

The baby gurgled with laughter, waving her tiny fists. Jermayan reached out a hand, and she grabbed his finger, clutching strongly.

No wonder Ancaladar sounded so… smug,
Kellen thought. "But… " he said.

Jermayan looked up, met his eyes, and smiled.

"I can wait," he said serenely. "I have centuries — what is a mere eighteen years to that? I think — should I begin to grow impatient — that Ancaladar and I shall go in search of other dragons, to tell them that their need to hide from the world has passed. That is a task of years that will keep me from too much impatience. But when I return… "

He looked meaningfully at Ashaniel, who simply smiled.

"It will not be the first time a child has been betrothed in her cradle, Jermayan. And I can see already how stubborn she is. Not for all the treasure of the Nine Cities — or a dragon's magic — would I do anything to keep the two of you apart."

"So she is not dead," Vestakia said joyfully.

"No," Kellen said, still stunned by what he was seeing. Nor would Idalia's greatest fear — that Jermayan would be forced to live out long centuries of his life without her — ever come to pass. Not now. For as a last gift of the Wild Magic, in payment for her ultimate sacrifice, Idalia had been reborn among the Elves, possessed, now, of the gift of their long years.

Suddenly Vestakia put her arms around him. He hugged her back without thinking — and as he did, he realized that it was almost summer.

His bond with Shalkan — a bond of chastity and celibacy — had been formed in early spring, to run for a year and a day.

That time was over now. Well over.

He was free.

He could look at Vestakia now. He could
think
about Vestakia now.

"I — " he said, suddenly feeling terribly awkward.

"I always knew," she said gravely. Suddenly she smiled, and an irrepressible dimple appeared at the corner of her mouth. "Kellen, you worked
so
hard to avoid me!"

Kellen laughed with sheer relief. It was true. But no longer.

* * * * *

THERE were formalities, of course. He had to speak to Tyrvin, and formally relieve him of his duties at the Fortress, something Jermayan had not been able to do. With that, the preparations for leave-taking could at last begin.

Once they were underway, Kellen and Vestakia went back down the causeway, this time walking hand-in-hand. For the first time in nearly a year, the children of the Elves were out in the fresh air once more, laughing and playing in the meadow among the watchful unicorns. He saw Sandalon among them, running in circles among the meadow flowers for sheer joy at being able to do so.

Where was Shalkan?

He'd said he wouldn't leave without saying goodbye.

Kellen located him at last, at the edge of the ring of unicorns that was watching the children. He was standing next to another unicorn, rubbing his neck against hers. Kellen recognized her at once — Calmeren, the only survivor from the first Crowned Horns convoy.

As he started to approach, Shalkan raised his head. His nostrils flared warningly. Kellen stopped.

Still celibate. But no longer chaste, I guess.

"I suppose this is goodbye, then," Kellen said.

"You knew the time would come," Shalkan said, sounding more than a little cross at having been interrupted. "Some of it was fun. All of it was necessary. But now it's time for you to get on with your own life and let others tend to theirs. Goodbye, Kellen."

"Goodbye, Shalkan." Kellen turned away.

"And one last piece of advice," Shalkan called after him.

Kellen stopped and turned back. "What is it?"

"Kiss the girl."

Kellen grinned in spite of himself. Trust Shalkan to get in the last word.

Kellen turned to Vestakia. "Shalkan's advice is usually pretty good," he said.

"I think we should follow it," she agreed.

And so they did.

* * * * *

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