“I was not sure,” Kieri said. “We hoped for it, since I will not live as long as elves do and the land needs what the Lady gave it.”

“They will be stronger than you,” the elf said. “If they survive. Amrothlin has told me of the attacks by the traitor elf as well as iynisin. Arian should have more protection than you can give her. Accept, please, my offer of help. And for your children, if not for you, assistance in training them in their elven magery as they grow.”

Kieri thought about it. He needed to know more about his own magery, and the local elves claimed they could not teach him. The children would need help even more than he did as they grew. But accepting help from this elf meant becoming dependent on someone whose ambitions he could not fathom. Best meet that head-on; he could not hope to outwit an elf with subtlety.

“Your offer is gracious,” he said. “But—with apologies to you and to Amrothlin—” He nodded toward his uncle elf. “—my experience with elves has included enough contradictory behavior that I am … wary. You know more than I, that is clear. You are older, more powerful. I swore an oath to this land to protect as well as rule … I will not lightly give up that charge.”

The elf’s eyes flashed; his face stiffened in what Kieri knew must be outrage. Then he calmed again. “I … understand, I believe. You dealt with your grandmother. She was not entirely reliable. Nor were all her elves. You do not know—you cannot know—my honor. Yet we have need of each other. If you are to rule and protect this land as you hope, you need to advance in your mastery of the elvenhome. If I am to see my lineage succeed here, so will your children. I do not dispute your right to rule. I do not dispute my granddaughter’s right, through her father. Can we begin with that?”

Kieri nodded slowly. “We can … but you must forgive me if my trust comes slowly. You have not shared your name; you know mine.”

“Ah. My name is long and difficult to say—” The elf uttered something that slipped past Kieri’s ears in a ripple of sound like running water. “It is my history as well as my name. In a shorter form, which even elves use, I am Machrynalýthnyan, and my domain is known as the Lordsforest.”

Kieri repeated the short form, noting the stress on the next to last syllable. “I thank you,” he said, “and would welcome assistance in protecting Arian from iynisin if you think another attack might come—”