Elfhunter Read Online Free PDF

would have to
help her.
     
    Observing a stout young spruce that hung out over the
water, Gaelen acted quickly. Taking only her weapons and one small
pack, she tied up her winter cloak, flexed her cold fingers, and
leaped up into the branches, securing the cord around the trunk to
make a life-line across the river. She climbed hand over hand,
swaying in the ever-rising wind, her heels hooked over the
line.
    The cord was strong, but it stretched under Gaelen’s
weight, lowering her toward the churning river. She gasped as the
cold water soaked her back. It grabbed at her cloak, bow, and
quiver and nearly tore her loose, but she hung on, grimacing, until
she reached Nelwyn, who was by now exhausted. Gaelen grasped the
back of her cousin’s sodden cloak, heaved it out of the water, and
slung it across one of her shoulders. At that exact moment, Nelwyn
lost her grip on the cold stone and was then held to the world only
by the sturdy clasp of her cloak. Her eyes were closed, her teeth
were chattering, and her strength was gone. She turned over,
moaning, as Gaelen’s hand found hers and grasped it. The added
weight of holding onto Nelwyn pulled Gaelen completely down into
the water, and she didn’t know whether she could hang on.
    She looked up to behold the mysterious figure
standing directly over them atop the rocks. It appeared to be
either an Elf or a tall, strong young man; she could not yet tell.
He threw a rope down to the water, cast off his own cloak, and
began to climb toward them.
    When he reached them, Gaelen saw that he was, in
fact, an Elf. His hair was long and dark, and his grey eyes were
anxious. Grasping Gaelen’s wrist, he pulled her up and onto the
rocks, along with Nelwyn, who was now unconscious. He removed
Nelwyn’s cloak, which had taken on enough water to weigh as much as
Nelwyn herself, and cast it up onto the stones. Then he lifted her
and slung her over his shoulder, as Gaelen followed his example
with her own sodden cloak.
    Gaelen watched as he struggled back up to the top of
the rocks, then she grasped the rope with icy hands and climbed
slowly and painfully up to join him. She had secured the rope
around both of the wet cloaks, for they would be needed and could
not easily be replaced. She was not afraid of the newcomer; her
instincts told her that he could be trusted, for his eyes held no
evil in them.
     
    When she reached the top, Gaelen was pleased to find
Nelwyn wrapped in the stranger’s dry cloak. He had given her a
draught from his flask, and her color was coming back. She would
recover quickly once she was warm. The stranger waited for Gaelen,
his anxiety and impatience obvious. "Follow me. I have a good
shelter and a fire nearby."
    "Wait! Who are you, and what is your business here?"
asked Gaelen. In answer, the stranger rose to his feet, lifted
Nelwyn, and began to walk away. Gaelen was weary, wet, and cold,
and she didn’t like having her question ignored. It was her opinion
that the stranger had most likely startled Nelwyn into the water in
the first place; it was the only thing that made sense. Her blood
rose as she got to her feet, nocked an arrow, and drew on him,
calling in a low, chilly voice: "If I were you, O Nameless Elf, I
wouldn’t turn my back to Gaelen, daughter of Tarfion. I would show
her the courtesy and respect that are warranted."
    "Even if you had just saved her life and the life of
her friend?" replied the stranger with a bemused glance over his
shoulder. When he saw that he looked down the shaft of an arrow,
his amusement faded. Gaelen was obviously in no mood for it.
    "Put that away. My name is Galador. I am not your
enemy, for if I were I would not have pulled you both from the
river. You are obviously cold and weary, and your wits have left
you."
    "If you were not an enemy and were in possession of
YOUR wits, you would not have startled my cousin into the water in
the first place, making it necessary for you to pull us from the
river," muttered Gaelen. But