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.The prediction of two weeks to open the bridge had seemed ludicrous when first proclaimed, but within a couple of days, it seemed as if that prediction might prove far too conservative.In Lochsilinilume, the city of elves, response to word of the missing witch was instant and universal, and that same day, preparations were made, provisions packed and weapons sharpened, and the very next morning, Arien Silverleaf led his determined forces out of the enchanted valley.The bells on the elvish horses jingled gaily, but the mood was truly grim.This outrage, the abduction of the daughter of Brielle, the daughter of Avalon, the elves could not tolerate.Not long after the dark news of Rhiannon passed the gathering at the remains of the Four Bridges, it continued south and east, to the gates of Pallendara.Most distressed in all the city was Istaahl the White, a personal friend of Brielle and of her daughter.“Brielle,” the White Wizard called into his crystal ball, sending his thoughts across the miles to Avalon.“Jennifer Glendower, do you hear?” he added, using the witch’s ancient name.Within minutes, Brielle had enchanted her reflecting pool and stood facing the far-distant wizard, and his expression alone told her that he had heard the news of Rhiannon’s abduction, and that his heart, too, had broken.“You believe he took her to Talas-dun?” Istaahl asked.“Where else might the dark wraith be going?” Brielle replied.“No, he took her there, to Thalasi, to his master.”“Then to Talas-dun I shall go!” Istaahl proclaimed.“To tear down every wall around the Black Warlock until he surrenders Rhiannon to me!”Brielle offered a warm smile, though she knew, despite the wizard’s good intentions, that there was little Istaahl could truly do.Talas-dun was quite beyond his power, as it was beyond Brielle’s, in these times of waning magic.And though Istaahl would remain close to his source of strength, the great ocean, in the region of Talas-dun, he could not begin to match the power of Morgan Thalasi in that evil place.But Istaahl could not accept that helplessness.For hundreds of years, he had served as advisor to the various kings of Pallendara, had served as wise man and court wizard.For hundreds of years he had been one of the four most powerful persons in all the known world, and now, with this most terrible crisis looming, his impotence did not sit well on his old shoulders.“I will find a way,” the White Wizard promised, and he bade the fair witch farewell, promising to speak with her again to allow her to mark his progress.Istaahl stopped his work at rebuilding the broken white tower that same day, even dismissed the workers assisting him in the task.He considered going out then to King Benador to help in the bridge reconstruction, but no, he decided, by the time he even got out to the river, the work would be nearly completed.He would not go across with Benador’s legions, for his power base was the sea, not the inland plains, and by the time he got near to that power again, he would be in the shadows of Kored-dul, in the domain of Morgan Thalasi.No, Istaahl knew, that was not his place, not his destiny in this great struggle.Instead, he went into seclusion in the rooms below the ground level of the structure, locking himself in.No more could he tolerate the impotence, no more could he, could all the world, tolerate the ugly plague that was Morgan Thalasi.Istaahl fell into a deep trance then, as deep as the one that had sustained him during the score of years he had been a prisoner of the Black Warlock, when Thalasi had stolen his identity to serve in disguise as Istaahl at the side of Ungden the Usurper.Deeper and deeper the White Mage slipped, far from the world of men and beasts, into the realm of magic—his magic, the power of the sea.He knew the risks, knew the price, and soon enough it became obvious to him that the cost would not be a possibility, but a truth.And yet he went deeper still, gave himself over heart and soul to this one great task.This one final task.Far to the west in the black bastion that was Talas-dun, Morgan Thalasi and Hollis Mitchell plotted and schemed, taking heart that they would soon again loose their armies upon the world, their courage bolstered by the fact that they had a most valuable prisoner now, one who would give them tremendous leverage over their enemies—particularly their two greatest enemies, the Emerald Witch and the Silver Mage.Neither could understand or appreciate the deeper implications of the capture of Rhiannon, the solidarity and sheer determination that heinous act would inspire among their enemies.Neither could appreciate the added hours of back-breaking labor at the broken bridges, nor the ride of Bryan and the rangers, nor the charge of Arien Silverleaf and the elves, nor, most of all, the mounting, desperate efforts of Istaahl the White.That single act of capturing the witch’s daughter, who had become so beloved by the soldiers of Calva, by the elves of Lochsilinilume, and by the rangers of Avalon, had straightened the shoulders of war-weary warriors, had forced the grief aside, temporarily, in all of those who had lost so much.Now the expressions were much the same from Pallendara to the Four bridges, to Avalon, to Lochsilinilume; faces locked in grim determination.This outrage would not stand
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