Not Magic Enough and Setting Boundaries - By Valerie Douglas Page 0,38

Dwarves had walked the streets of the city. Jareth could feel the prickle of their magic as they set each stone in place with Dwarven precision.

He couldn’t dawdle though; they’d be waiting for him in the castle.

So many changes had taken place in the last few years! The Agreement had been signed and a new government - one that represented everyone, men, Elves and Dwarves - set in place.

For the first time there was hope in the air, real hope that perhaps there might be a lasting peace between the three races. This time offered by Men, by Jareth’s own people. By High King Daran no less, with the aid of Elon of Aerilann. And he, Jareth, would be a part of securing it!

Jareth hurried his steps, looking up at the towering granite walls of the High King’s castle high above where they surmounted the city itself. The damned skirts of the robes kept tangling around his shins as he strode up the causeway, beneath the Great Tower with its murder hole and then into the courtyard.

As always, the courtyard bustled with people rushing to and fro on the High King’s business, presenting petitions or making demands.

The chatelaine waved him on with a smile - knowing him from prior visits - shaking her head at him in fond amusement. He’d visited often in the company of the Master of wizards, Dorcet.

He smiled back but his stomach locked up even tighter as he strode toward the doors of the High King’s Hall. Huge ironbound doors that those brought before the High King’s justice had named The Crack of Doom for the sound they made when they closed - a deep resounding boom.

They weren’t closed now, they were open wide. Reflected sunlight from the marble floors beyond poured through them, the light glaring.

Jareth let his pack slip from his hands to set it beside the door out of the way.

Throughout the Kingdoms the High King’s Hall was noted for its remarkable beauty, for the white marble walls, the dark marble floors and the expanse of rare glass windows that made up the length of one wall. Windows that could actually be propped open to let light and air in rather than the high clerestory openings and deep gloom of most Halls. That in itself was astonishing. Add to it the nearly legendary splendor of the High King’s garden outside those windows and it was a wonder in itself.

The guards nodded acknowledgement as he passed between them, his heart hammering in his chest with nervousness.

He remembered Dorcet’s words and the hearty clap to the shoulder his beloved Master had given him.

“Your chance has come, Jareth, my lad,” Dorcet had said with a smile. “You’ll finally get a chance to meet Elves.”

And what Elves…!

From the time he’d been a boy he’d always been fascinated with that beautiful, aloof and distant race.

“You’re the best wizard for the job, Jareth, be sure of that, my lad, or I wouldn’t send you,” Dorcet had said then, giving him a stern look. “Mind me, of that there is no doubt! You’ll do just fine, lad. You know the way of them and there’s none - wizard or not - that I would choose other.”

That memory eased his belly only a little.

He knew he was young for the job, only in his early twenties. There were more than a few other wizards who wanted the position who were both older than he and more experienced. Avila for one, but her dislike of Elves was well known. Dorcet had wanted someone younger, more open-minded. Someone like him.

Then Jareth’s breath caught again.

There he was. Or rather, there they were. The Elves.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen them before, he’d been present at the signing of the Agreement with Dorcet but not this close.

Elon of Aerilann stood in the center of the Hall. The legendary Elon of Aerilann himself, First among Equals in his Enclave, Councilor and Advisor to the High King, with his paxman - or true-friend as Elves named it - Colath, at his side.

Standing in the middle of the room, the two Elves drew the eye even amidst the hustle and bustle of High King’s Court.

Looking at them, you couldn’t mistake them for anything other than Elf - and it wasn’t just the ears.

They were tall, taller than most men, one dark, one light; Colath a bright shadow to Elon’s dark, their hair falling as straight as rain. Both were incredibly well built, the muscles in their chests