Desperately, Shea dashed after the two robbers, unable to think of anything but recovering the precious Elfstones. Panamon Creel watched him approach in astonishment, certain that the Valeman was crazed to the point of daring to attack them to regain possession of the three blue gems. Never had he encountered such a persistent fellow in all his days. He had spared the lad’s life and graciously given him his freedom, but still it didn’t seem to be enough to satisfy him. Shea came to a panting halt several yards away from the two tall figures, and the thought flashed through his mind that he had reached the end of his rope. Their patience was exhausted and now they would dispose of him without further consideration.

“I didn’t tell you the truth before,” he gasped finally. “I couldn’t… I don’t know it all myself. But the stones are very important-not only to me, but to everyone in all the lands. Even to you, Panamon.”

The scarlet robber looked at him with a mixture of surprise and distrust, the smile gone, but the dark eyes still free of anger. He said nothing, but stood motionless waiting for the exasperated Valeman to speak further.

“You’ve got to believe me!” Shea exclaimed vehemently. “There’s more to this than you realize.”

“You certainly seem to believe so,” admitted the other flatly. He looked over at the huge Keltset, who stood at his elbow, and shrugged his incredulity at Shea’s strange behavior. The Rock Troll made a quick move toward Shea, and the Valeman shrank back in terror, but Panamon Creel stopped his massive companion with a raised hand.

“Look, just grant me one favor,” Shea pleaded desperately, grasping at any chance to gain a little time to think. “Take me north with you to Paranor.”

“You must be mad!” cried the thief, aghast at the suggestion. “What possible reason could you have for going to that black fortress? It’s extremely unfriendly country. You wouldn’t last five minutes! Go home, boy. Go home to the Southland and leave me in peace.”

“I’ve got to get to Paranor,” the other insisted quickly. “That was where I was going when the Gnomes captured me. I have friends there-friends who will be searching for me. I have to join them at Paranor!”

“Paranor is an evil place, a spawning ground for Northland creatures even I would be afraid to run into!” Panamon said heatedly. “Besides, if you do have friends there, you probably plan to lead Keltset and me into some sort of trap so you can get your hands on the stones. That’s your plan, isn’t it? Forget it right now. Take my advice and turn south while you still can!”

“You’re afraid, aren’t you?” Shea sputtered angrily. “You’re afraid of Paranor and afraid of my friends. You haven’t the courage…”

He trailed off sharply as the deep fires of anger kindled explosively in the scarlet thief, the broad face flushing heatedly at the accusation. For a moment Panamon Creel stood motionless, his entire frame quivering with rage as he glared at the small Valeman. Shea stood his ground, gambling everything on this final plea.