Iylaine learns the stranger’s name, and about her own

Iylaine and the elf led their ponies deep into the trees. The elf’s horse stepped easily over the rocks and fallen branches and tufts of ferns, and ducked calmly under the low boughs, but her own stumbled and balked, angry at being dragged into the dense stand of pines where even the moonlight could not penetrate.

“You take mine and I shall take yours,” the elf suggested after a while. Once he had his hand on the bridle, her pony calmed immediately. “He’s a stubborn boy,” he said to her. “You let him have his head too often, which does surprise me a little on your part. What’s his name?”

“Blackie,” she said.

“But he isn’t even black!”

“So?” she huffed. “I named him before I got him, that’s why.”

“I shouldn’t laugh,” he said, laughing all the same, “because mine is named Sarim. It is an elf name. It means the kind of forest fire that moves very quickly, but he’s a poky old thing. His name doesn’t fit him any better than Blackie’s does.”

Iylaine giggled.

“Do you know what your name means?” he asked.

“No.”

“It means the light of torches—the kind of fire that you may bring into your home, or take outside to light your way.”

“It does? Is it an elf name too?”

“It does, and it is. Do you know what my name means?”

“I don’t even know what your name is!” she squealed.

“That’s right! I forgot,” he laughed. “My name is Vash.”

“Is it a kind of fire too?”

“No—a kind of water. Still water. I mean, these cold, dark lakes in our valley, of which you have seen a few today. Not the green and slimy kind of still water.”

Iylaine laughed.

“The kind of water that is deeper than it is wide, and that drags men down to the bottom, so don’t let me catch you swimming in any of them!”

“Oh, I hate swimming. I don’t even know how.”

“That’s just as well. Here we are.”

They stopped at the mouth of a cave that opened into a cragged, pine-​covered hill.

“Allow me to make sure there aren’t any bears or other animals inside,” he said, darting off at once.

Bears? Iylaine was frightened, and wished he hadn’t left her alone.

But he had soon returned. “Only a few big ugly toads,” he grinned. “But I believe you like those now. Allow me to unsaddle the horses and then I shall take you inside.”

“Won’t they run away?” she asked as she watched him work.

“Why? They know I’m here.”

He seemed to think it was explanation enough, so she didn’t ask further. She was only happy to be with someone who knew exactly what to do. “How old are you?” she asked suddenly. He seemed awfully competent for a boy.

“Twelve. Thirteen in a few weeks.”

“Oh, that’s big I guess.”

“And you will be seven, won’t you?” he asked as he pulled off Blackie’s bridle. “Did you know we have the same birthday?”

“No. I don’t even know my birthday, ’cause my Mama found me already born. I picked the twelfth of March ’cause that’s Wynnie’s birthday too.”

“You were close. Your birthday is the first day of spring,” he said, carrying his horse’s saddle into the mouth of the cave.

“How do you know that?” she asked.

“Come inside and let’s get you warm and fed, and then we can talk.”