"Now, legend has it that the very heart of the Black Wood is a circle of enormous black oaks. But Belloc and Darrow before him long sought such a place, without success. Both had thought to take the wood from one of these oaks to fashion his staff, and both were met with disappointment. The wood from this staff, and those of Belloc and Darrow, did come from a black oak, but that tree grows in a secret courtyard belonging to the elven King of Angorain; something even Palindor

does not know. It was the elves who cut this wood, who shaped and shod it, and who cut their runes into it with great cunning. Only the elves possess the secret art of severing and shaping living wood without harming or killing it. As such, my staff has a voice-"

"To which I am not deaf," Lily told him, a small smile touching her lips. "The Summoning Stone, too, has a voice, and it made me aware of your staff, and the tree from which it was taken. For this reason I can tell you where Belloc is at this very moment, and I can tell you too that Darrow's staff was slain in the Burning Lands.

"But tell me, husband, what is your reservation? Can you not sense what lies beyond?"




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