Meanwhile, Astra and Aethir approached the Tree. At the sight of the iron-
bladed
knife in Aethir's hand, the Huntsman had vanished, but they still
anticipated some
last-ditch attempt to prevent them from freeing Simon. They did not know
just how
many of the fae there were who might come against them. So far Astra had
seen only
the Huntsman and the spriggan, but they assumed that there must be some
others and
perhaps a multitude. However, they did not realise how few of the fae
there really were, how demoralised they had become, nor how cowardly they
were at the best
of times. The fae relied mainly on illusion, bluffing and low cunning, and
when those proved to be
insufficient they were almost helpless.
The fae had known that the knife had been lying there for all those years, of course. Because it was made of iron - even the handle - they could not touch it to remove it. They had hoped when the man awoke that he would have forgotten it or have been unable to find it, and at first that had seemed to be the case. Then had come the moment of despair when they realised that he had found it. The knife could not only destroy the fae's illusions, but kill the fae too, and none of them was prepared to go anywhere near it. Aethir began to cut at the branches and tendrils holding Simon. The Tree seemed almost as vulnerable to the iron knife as it was to holy water, and they soon had him free. Those distant views unaffected by the cuts of the knife at once took on the same dead appearance as the local area. "Help me to carry him at least fifty feet away from the Tree," said Aethir. "He needs to be well clear for what I have in mind." When that was done, he said: "Help me gather some dead undergrowth and pile it against the Tree. There's no shortage of it." Then he found a rock and struck a spark off it with the blade of his knife, and managed to catch alight a frond of dead fern. Soon he had the undergrowth piled against the Tree well alight, and before long the Tree itself was burning. Astra thought that she could hear it screaming. "There," said Aethir in tones of great satisfaction. "That should be the end of this Faerie Rath." "But what has happened to Frederigo and Andrea?" Astra asked worriedly.
When the great black goblin sprang upon Andrea, Frederigo knew what must have happened to the dvergar; those whom the goblin had not killed must have abandoned the tunnels, or at least this section of them. But there was no time to worry about that now, for he could not let the goblin harm his prize.
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5/1/2000 12:09:38 PM
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