Serene rummaged in her bag and brought out a horn, made of bone and delicately carved. She blew on it gently, and the sound went rushing through the trees as if there were windchimes hanging from every bough. In a few moments, sooner than Elliot would have dreamed possible, came the response. Through the trees in a shining cavalcade and a patter of hooves lighter than falling leaves, wheeling and turning in a perfect circle like birds whose flight patterns were guided by sheer instinct into absolute smoothness, came the elves. In the lead was a woman beautiful as the dawn and calm as a lake
...more
