and winding way, down corridors that closed in on Juraviel and through chambers that he sensed were very vast indeed.
A long while later, they stopped again, and Juraviel was surprised when Cazzira pulled off his hood, staring at him intently with her icy blue eyes. They were in a large chamber, and it seemed to Juraviel that he was actually out of doors again, in some secret mountain hole.
His eyes scanned up, up, eagerly, but as he turned, he quickly forgot all about the chamber itself, for there before him towered the magnificent gates of the Doc'alfar city.
"Tymwyvenne," Lozan Duk explained. ?You are the first who is not Doc'alfar to look upon the gates of Tymwyvenne in many centuries."
"I am honored," Juraviel said, again with all sincerity and more than a bit of awe, for the entrance to Tymwyvenne was what he would expect of any cousins of the Touel'alfar - and more! The doors, huge doors, as thick as ten elves side by side, were of some golden-hued wood. They hung open, flanked by two huge round pillars of the same material, which were set against a wall of gray-and-black stone. Across the top of the pillars was a third, lying horizontally above the doorway, and made of the same wood, with thousands of designs carved into it, many of them shining of various colors. Juraviel looked more closely and noted that many, many gemstones were set in that beam, a king's treasure, and he was glad to see that there was an appreciation of beauty there, as in Caer'alfar - though his own peo-ple's ideal of beauty was evidenced in the perfection of nature itself. Juraviel understood that such appreciation often signaled an understanding of the higher orders and stations of life, including mercy.
Through the doors, the trio came into an immense cavern, a place of quiet, but steady, light, where the fog was not so thick. Structures loomed all about them, made of burnished wood of varying hues and textures.
There was no one singular dominant design, but each house, for that is what they obviously were, was its own free-flowing work of art. Other Doc'alfar milled about, making Juraviel's path a veritable pa-ite All wanted to catch a glimpse of the captured Tylwyn Tou, obvi-nd he noted many expressions there, from curiosity to some almost The place had a somber tone about it, to Juraviel s thinking, gloomy but dark It wasn't hard for him to figure out his escorts' intended destinations they crossed a large central open area. Ahead of them, a crisscross of lconies lined the back wall, climbing up above the city. There, on a higher that sat the grandest house of all, which he knew without doubt was the pice of King Eltiraazr, Belli'mar Juraviel fixed:his gaze on that house and the many surrounding ]andings~aniornate railings and balusters, trying to get a feeling for the oc-upants througlTtfeei^choice of design. The alfar could do this more easily than could humans because elven houses were rarely handed down - were, ultimately, a product of centuries of choices and intuitions and creativity from a single driving heart and mind.
This house looked inviting enough, very much like a place expecting many guests and revelers.
Of course, a pair of Doc'alfar guards darkened that notion. They were dressed in strange skin and wooden armor and held thin and nasty-looking hooked clubs, their full-faced helms showing only their dark eyes, and those eyes revealing nothing of their feelings toward this strange newcomer to their land.
The trio entered a wide foyer, then turned down a side passage and around a series of bends, at last coming into another wide room, set with two rows of decorated columns, with a thick green carpet running the length of the room between them. The only piece of furniture in the room was a large golden-wood throne near the far wall, behind which a fire blazed in a great hearth, and upon which sat a Doc'alfar with long black hair and large dark eyes. Like that of the rest of his kin, his skin was creamy white. His clothing, though, was far more remarkable. Thus far, most of the Doc'alfar Juraviel had seen were either in that curious armor or in rather plain garb. Lozan Duk and Cazzira both wore dark brown outfits - suitable for hunting the foggy bogs, Juraviel figured.
I his one - King Eltiraaz, Juraviel knew before the formal introduction - wore light-colored breeches, embroidered with many gemstones, and a rich