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Elkhana and the Prince of Rhenar A Short Excerpt from Chapter One: The HuntLichen covered granite cliffs loomed on both sides of a narrow valley cloaked in gray fog. A clear stream gurgled noisily over a series of small waterfalls. Occasional shafts of morning sunlight illuminated the wet leaves of dark green mountain laurel and rhododendron. Except for the rushing stream, all was quiet. Not one bird sang; not a cricket chirped. The very atmosphere was heavy with silence. Some bushes parted and an elf-boy furtively stole into a clearing. Panting, he leaned against a chestnut oak sniffing the air, his pointed ears straining for the slightest sound. Alerted by a faint noise, he stood erect, his hand lightly touching the tree. With a hiss, a black arrow sliced through his green tunic, skewering him to the trunk! He jerked back, but the tough cloth embedded into the wood held him fast. Frantically, he ripped it loose, but before he could escape, a huge Archon charged through the brush, hit him with the butt of his spear, knocking him unconscious. The warrior threw Jo’el over his massive shoulder. “Thera!” He shouted, “I got ‘im!” Backtracking, he met a smaller Archon on the trail. “Good,” rasped the small one, “Dagon will be pleased.” Trotting rapidly, they headed toward the western cliffs. Thera glanced at the Elf. “You didn’t kill ‘im?” “Naw,” grunted Kril . . .
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