‘Do you suppose that the enemy will have reached the West yet?’ Mraan asked.
‘That is a certainty,’ Haloch replied.
‘But where will we seek safety?’
‘Safety?’ his father belied a hint of irritation at his son’s incomprehension. ‘It is not safety we seek, but rather to keep the Lore from the hands of the Enemy. The threat is not to the Elven Kingdom alone, but to everything and everyone, everywhere.
‘I am surprised that the Earth Mother Herself hasn’t yet responded to this threat,’ he muttered, half to himself, feeling as much worry as relief. ‘Such an affront should have provoked Her to such wrath that She would have obliterated the Lore, and all Elvenkind with It. Though perhaps, as some have suggested, her power wanes; perhaps She is no longer able to respond. That, too, does not bode well, for without the assurance of Her being, there is no guarantee that the Lore can be stopped.’
Mraan could not picture this, but felt he understood his father better now, regardless.
‘So, what is to be done with the Lore?’
Haloch smiled, grimly. They made their way up a small rise, moving northward, around the periphery of the city. ‘Now you are beginning to think again. As I told you, nothing will be gained by destroying the Book. The invocation cannot be called back, but it must somehow be diverted or undone. I do not have that talent, but perhaps the Thane may know someone who does.’