In the meantime, there was this.
“I would see what it is he does,” she demanded.
“The place for the next marker is just ahead,” Elon said evenly. “Will you join us?”
Placing each step carefully, the horses picked their way over the scree of tumbled, rocky slopes, down to where the delicate green grass grew in tufts among the bones of the earth. Here, too, the skin of the earth was thin.
Elon looked at Jareth as they dismounted.
The young wizard clearly felt the responsibility, the weight that was on him. His face was still pale, his deep brown eyes wide and worried.
Meeting Elon’s eyes a thousand thoughts went through Jareth’s mind.
‘Fetching’ from that far away was chancy enough. He was as likely to drop it on Palic’s head as he was his own foot. Each stone varied slightly in weight, the heaviness unexpected no matter how prepared he was. Then there was the chance his own people would interfere, waiting for this opportunity to attack with both Elves and Dwarves here. That would be his kind of luck. Certainly there were enough among his own people who shared Palic’s misgivings.
Some of them didn’t trust him either.
There was a light touch to his shoulder, long strong fingers. Elon. Elves didn’t touch much as a rule, and never men.
Jareth looked into Elon of Aerilann’s dark eyes, normally so stern but there was an understanding there and a confidence in him that few others save his own Master expressed. His heart contracted at that look, at the faith in those dark eyes and something within him loosened. He turned his head to look at Colath.
That same look was mirrored in Colath’s seemingly colorless eyes.
It shook Jareth to the core.
“What we do not show, Jareth,” Elon said, quietly, “we still feel.”
As calmly, Colath said, “Courage is not lack of fear but proceeding in spite of it.”
Drawing in a breath, Jareth let it out sharply. He nodded.
Looking to Palic, Elon said, “This is the correct place for the marker, agreed?”
Grimly, she nodded, folding her arms over her chest.
His heart beating hard, Jareth stepped to the spot Elon marked. With no men to observe it wasn’t necessary to confirm it with the sextant, and before these, knowing Elven veracity, it would have been insulting.
Calm settled over him. His eyes met Elon’s before he dared look at Palic directly, giving her a slow respectful nod.
“You can feel the magic as I call it, my Lady,” he said, knowing Dwarves didn’t use titles any more than Elves but needing to show her respect in some way.
The nod and its intention was clearly a surprise to her.
He gave her honor. That Palic clearly understood.
She nodded in return; he could see her sense as he drew power, her eyes narrowing a little.
“I’m going to conjure the stone, now,” Jareth said.
A shock went through the Dwarves, he, Elon and Colath all saw it.
He would summon stone, something they, the workers of stone, couldn’t.
It was apparent the Dwarves thought they would bring the stones with them. The words might have been in the Agreement but they hadn’t seen it or credited it as possible.
A burst of magic was clearly felt and then the large carved stone appeared in the air above Jareth’s outstretched arms. As the weight of it hit, he staggered a little, but he didn’t dare to drop it or the disrespect he showed to the stone these folk held precious might have been his undoing. Instead he quickly lowered it to the ground.
Elon turned to Palic and asked quietly, “Would you do this with us? It’s simple magic, a binding spell such as we do to create Veils or Walls, nothing more. You would have to do magic with the wizard…”
There was a quiet unspoken undertone of challenge, of daring, in Elon’s voice.
Such a thing wouldn’t have worked on an Elf, who had no pride in such to care about, but a Dwarf? One who had just been faced with stone magic she couldn’t do herself?
Jareth bit back a smile. Now he understood that not only was Elon of Aerilann eloquent but he was wise in the ways of people, of men and Dwarves, and clever, too.
Lifting her chin defiantly, Palic sniffed and said, “I would.”
It was clear she feared nothing or at least would make it appear so in front of the men.
One of the Dwarves - obviously her husband by his proprietary nature - stepped forward to put his hands around her waist and lower her to the ground.