Mist and gloom masked everything but the bright flicker of the fires that still burned within the tower of Mallenroh. Nothing else was distinguishable. The Valeman had no idea at all where they should go from there. “Hebel, where is Spire’s Reach?” he asked hurriedly. The old man shook his head. “Can’t be certain, Elfling. Can’t see anything.” Wil hesitated, then knelt quickly on the forest earth and brought the cringing form of Wisp out from under his arm. Wisp had buried his face in his hands, and his furry body was curled tightly into a ball. Try as he might, the Valeman could not get the little Elf to unfold. Finally he gave up, holding Wisp by his shoulders and shaking him urgently. “Wisp, listen to me. Wisp, you have to talk to me. Look at me, Wisp.” The little fellow peeked reluctantly through his fingers. His body shook. “Wisp, where is Spire’s Reach?”
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