Author Note:

1: This story is based on the Altered Fates Universe concept established by Jennifer Adams, however I’ve taken some artistic liberties so this story doesn’t strictly adhere to the rules Jennifer established.

2: This is also a fanfic of the J.R.R. Tolkien world of Middle Earth in an untold tale of the First Age. Please note; I didn’t stay completely true to the Middle Earth that Tolkien set up. This is my take on what Middle Earth in the First Age might have been like.

Logan’s first clue that the sun was coming up was the fact that she could now see the faint outline of the branches of the tree they were under. She glanced over at Molly and was pleased to see that he was still awake. It had been an exhausting day and Molly hadn’t gotten any sleep but he was still awake.

“We can probably start moving soon.” Logan whispered.

Molly slowly reached out and touched Logan’s arm and then pointed. Through the branches they could just make out the form of another spider. This one was a little smaller than the one they’d killed in the ruin. It was about a dozen feet away moving slowly stopping every now and then to rear back slightly testing the air. Logan couldn’t tell if it was tracking them by scent or not, but one thing was sure if it got much closer they’d have to do something.

Then Logan saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Slowly she turned her head and spotted a second spider. This one was about the size of a large dog and was easily moving through the brush. Logan brought her AK on line and waited.

“Now,” Molly hissed and they opened fire on their separate targets at the same time. Logan squeezed the trigger three times in rapid succession and watched as the rounds tore into the head of the spider. It collapsed to the ground convulsing.

“Move!”

Logan surged to her feet and was out from under the tree in a heartbeat. Molly was just behind her.

“Which way,” Molly asked? Then they heard a chorus of hissing screams.

“Away from that,” Logan said moving as quickly as she could through the thick brush!

Logan moved as swiftly and quietly as she could while trying to keep up with Molly. The weight of the vest and backpack and the need to constantly scan her back trail was taking its toll, even in the lesser gravity, as she felt sweat running down her back. The first few minutes after the giant spiders found them had been a deliberate dash and they’d had to turn around several times to fire on the perusing monsters.

“This way,” Logan had shouted, dashing into a thicker area of forest in an attempt to lose them. As they raced through the thickening trees the click-clacking sound of the spiders faded. After ten minutes they’d slowed down to the quick, cautious pace that Logan knew would eat up the miles. The light gradually got darker as the trees became thicker and thicker. Now they had to work to keep each other in sight while moving through the trees. Logan glanced down at her watch. The ladies Timex Ironman had primary and secondary clocks so last night at sunset Logan had set the secondary mode to 6 pm. Assuming a twenty four hour day and sunset and sunrise were twelve hours apart, which Logan knew wasn’t a given, then they were getting close to noon.

Just then Molly held up his hand, fist closed. Logan stopped and looked around, she didn’t see any threats. Then Logan shook her head in amazement, Molly was using skills she’d never had, before touching the medallion, as if she’d been through the same training Logan had. ‘Focus,’ Logan thought chiding herself, then through the trees she thought she could see what might be a clearing. She cautiously moved up next to Molly. The clearing wasn’t much, maybe fifty yards across, in the center a bit of rocky ground lifted up from the soft forest floor. At the crown of the small knoll was what looked like a single large boulder. Sunlight fell in streaming golden rays onto the boulder and even from this distance Logan could see what appeared to a glyph carved into it.

“What do you think?” Molly asked.

“I’m not sure. I don’t think it’s dangerous.”

The pair moved cautiously into the clearing and Logan could feel the hair on the back of her neck stand up. There was something very odd about that stone and this whole glade. It had a surreal feeling and the stone appeared to be some kind of obelisk or standing stone that had been forgotten by time and overrun by the forest.

“I think this thing is made out of basalt.” Molly said, looking closely at it before glancing down at Logan, “It’s some kind of obelisk.”

“Someone went to a lot of trouble to polish it.”

“Yeah, and to carve that glyph into it. I wonder why it’s here?”

Logan shook her head, “I’ve got no idea, but I’m more concerned about getting back to the arch.”

Alarmed, Molly turned to face Logan, “Do you know how to get back?”

“I think so. I’ve been doing a pace count. By my estimate we’re about fifteen miles from the ruins and the spider nest.”

“But which way? This forest is so thick it would be easy to get turned around.”

Logan snorted, “Molly, this isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve been pace counting and marking our back trail.” With that Logan touched the knife attached to her combat vest, and then nodded at one of the trees they’d passed as they entered the clearing. It was difficult to see from here but Molly thought if he got closer he’d find an X cut into the tree bark.

Feeling better Molly returned to looking at the obelisk. Logan just shook her head and found a place to sit down and shrugged out of her backpack. Then an urge she’d been resisting for a couple of hours became impossible to ignore.

“Um, I’m going to take a piss.”

At this Molly looked over from where he’d been examining the obelisk and flashed Logan a grin. “Enjoy that.”

Logan glowered at him and moved to one side turning around and dropping her combat-vest and unbuckling her pants. “What do you mean ‘enjoy’ that?”

“Well, I always hated having to bare my ass to take a leak when daddy and I were camping. I always had this weird feeling that something might grab my exposed parts.” Then as if to demonstrate how easy things now were Molly stepped to one side and without removing any clothes unzipped his fly and pulled out his schlong.

Logan looked away and muttered, “Asshole,” under her breath and focused on doing her business. Since she’d forgotten to pull out the TP from her backpack Logan used a bandana from her cargo pocket to dry her bottom, mentally noting that she’d need to clean it at her first opportunity. Once done Logan pulled up her pants, shrugged back into her combat-vest, and returned to where she’d left her backpack. Logan had learned the hard way, to never be separated for too long, from her gear, while in the field. Then she dug into her backpack, a drink of water and an MRE sounded just right.

“There’s only this one sigil on the entire stone. I wonder what it means.” Molly had returned to his examination of the obelisk.

Logan saw that she only had two MREs left, stew and lasagna. After a moment’s thought she picked the lasagna. It had more carbs and Logan figured she needed all the energy she could get. Particularly since they had to somehow sneak back into the ruins and use the gate to get home.

“Ouch!”

At Molly’s startled exclamation Logan looked up. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just when I touched the symbol on the obelisk I felt a shock go through me and now your . . . err . . . I mean my tattoos are sort of tingling.”

Logan stood up and moved over to Molly and he extended his left arm. “Wow, check this out!”

Logan stared in shock. The tattoo was Logan’s first tat and was an image of a trident done in black ink his forearm. Now as Logan looked at it the tattoo changed, it took on a golden color and looked almost metallic. Without asking for permission Logan reached out and lightly touched the tattoo. It felt strangely warm and there was a buzzing under her fingertips. Logan quickly pulled her hand back.

“What the hell?”

“God, the one on my back is driving me crazy.”

With that Molly dropped his backpack, pulled off his combat vest and shirt. The play of Molly’s muscular chest and abs, in the dappled forest light, was somewhat distracting to Logan, but she forced herself to focus and moved to look at Molly’s back. The griffin tattoo she’d had tattooed onto her back before her second deployment was a colorful back piece that took up most of Molly’s back. Logan couldn’t help being amazed at the power and thoroughness of the medallion’s magic. If anything the tattoo now looked more colorful, almost as if it were a photo of an actual Griffin. Then, for a second, Logan thought the griffin moved its colors were so bright and realistic that once again she felt the urge to touch it. This time Logan stepped back.

“Let me see the last one.”

Molly turned so Logan could see his right arm just below the shoulder. The image of a Spartan warrior with glowing armor stared back looking like he could step off of Molly’s arm. The words “Strength,” and “Honor,” above and below the image were now written in what looked like metallic silver ink.

Molly reached up and scratched the skin where the warrior stood. “These things are driving me crazy.”

“Does it hurt?”

As she asked the question Logan couldn’t resist touching the word ‘Honor.’ That same buzzing she’d felt before returned and almost as if in a daze she heard Molly say, “No, it’s just annoying.”

Almost involuntarily Logan looked over at the obelisk. The sigil stood out like a beacon and without thinking about it she moved toward it. The symbol seemed to glow with a silver light in Logan’s mind and she could feel it, calling to her.

“Logan, what are you doing?” Molly’s voice carried more amusement than alarm. “I wouldn’t touch that thing.”

Then Logan watched as her small fingers reached out brushing the sigil. As soon as she made contact she felt a spark and then it was like she was attached and couldn’t let go. Something flowed into her, like she was an empty vessel and the obelisk was full of water. The water rushed into her, filling her, and then she felt the tattoo at the small of her back stir. Logan sensed it sort of move, almost as if it were stretching, and then it seemed to respond to the rushing water absorbing it as quickly as the obelisk poured it into her.

Suddenly a strong pair of hands grabbed her shoulders and pulled her away causing her to loose contact with the sigil. All at once the world came rushing back to Logan. On the one hand she was relieved to be away from the stone, it was obviously more than it appeared. Yet there was a part of her that missed the connection, missed the rush of . . . something.

“Are you okay?”

Logan turned to look at Molly, “Yeah, why?”

“Why? Because you’ve been standing there touching that symbol for fifteen minutes! I’ve been talking to you and you acted like you couldn’t hear me. I finally figured I had to pull you away.”

“Wow, really, fifteen minutes? It felt like I’d only touched it for a few seconds.”

Then Logan reached behind her to rub the itch at the small of her back. At this Molly chuckled, “Is it itching now?”

“Yeah, shit, why does my back feel like I’ve been rolling in poison ivy?”

“Something about that obelisk reacted to our tattoos. Mine have stopped itching.”

“Damn, so this will go away?”

“If yours does the same thing mine did. Hey, let me see it.”

Logan unbuckled her vest and dropped it to the ground before pulling her shirt up so Molly could see her lower back.

“Oh. My. God! Logan, my tattoo, of the witch-demon, she looks amazingly real, and the flaming pentagram, I could swear those are actual flames.”

Logan dropped her shirt down and tucked it in and turned to face Molly. “Look, we’ve got to get back to the ruin, but with the way we stirred up the spiders we should probably wait until tomorrow, and I think we should do it during the day. Something tells me that those things are primarily nocturnal.”

Molly nodded, “That’s sounds like a plan. We should probably find some water. I’m starting to get low.”

“Any guesses where?” Logan asked scanning the clearing.

“Actually yes,” When Logan glanced at him Molly shrugged, “I’ve just got this feeling that water is that way.” he said pointing with his left hand and Logan saw a slight flash of sunlight off the trident tattoo.

Without waiting to see if Logan would agree Molly collected his gear and set off. Logan hurriedly grabbed her equipment and followed. “I suppose one direction is as good as another.”

The land sloped down gently and then they were in the underbrush. After about thirty minutes Logan heard the sound of running water and then the pair stumbled out of the thick underbrush onto a steep bank with a ten foot drop and saw a deep, fast running, stream.

“I guess it’s better to be lucky than good. Any idea how we can get down to it without going for a swim?”

“What is the little girl afraid to get wet?” Molly teased. It took every bit of Logan’s self-control not to push Molly off the bank into the water.

“I’m more comfortable in the water than on dry land. But I’d like to keep my gear dry. Spending a night in wet clothes isn’t much fun, been there, done that.”

Molly sobered up a little and then pointed to the right. “I think we should go that way, follow it downstream. The ground looks like it slopes down, we just need it to get shallow enough for us to scoop up some water.”

The pair spent the next hour walking along the bank when all at once they heard a scream. It was a woman’s voice and then the sounds of war cries and the clash of steel drifted up. They glanced at each other and then as if by mutual assent they picked up the pace. In a few minutes the stream twisted and when they rounded the bend they spotted a shallow sandbar on the opposite bank. Standing on the sandbar they saw what looked like a pair of warriors in silver armor holding off nearly a dozen giant spiders.

These spiders were larger than the ones that had attacked them earlier. They were almost the size of horses and at first Logan thought some of them were being ridden by dark skinned humans. Then she realized that those spiders weren’t being ridden. The human’s upper body merged with the body of the spider creating an impossible looking monster. These human-spider creatures were wielding long wicked looking spears.

The ground was littered with the bodies of spiders, white fletched arrows standing at attention from each body. Now however, the spiders had closed in on the warriors forcing them to switch from bow to sword. Behind the warriors a woman, in light green cloak with a deep hood, stood and Logan thought the trio would be overrun in seconds. Then the woman lifted her hand and pointed at one of the human-spider creatures. From her outstretched hand four bolts of colored energy rocketed into the monster’s chest. The creature shrieked in pain and fell to the ground twisting in agony. The knights took advantage of the momentary shock and blurred forward their war cries thundering along the river. Logan was impressed with the speed and aggression of the attack and watched as spiders and human-spider monsters died with each sweep of their blades.

In seconds the number of attacking monsters had been cut in half and the three humans were untouched. Suddenly, there was a woman’s shout from the near side of the river bank. Then a pair of white looking lines arched over the river. The lines hit a pair of trees to either side of the trio of defenders and in seconds spiders the size of large dogs were racing along it.

“Look,” Molly pointed and Logan spotted a woman. She was a hundred meters downstream from them and for the moment oblivious to their presence. At first Logan assumed the woman was human, with dusky skin and white hair, but then she spotted the pointed ears.

“They’re going to die if we don’t help.”

“Molly, we don’t know what’s going on. We’re strangers here.”

“What’s to know, the spiders attacked us for no reason. Now that woman is controlling them and using them to attack those people. We can’t just stand here and do nothing.”

Then a pair of dark skinned male warriors moved up to flank the woman. They each held a crossbow and quickly fired on the trio on the sandbar. One of the bolts hit the warrior to the left of the woman in the back. His armor held and the bolt bounced away with a “PING” sound. The second bolt was aimed at the woman and just before it struck there was a flare of light as the bolt struck an unseen shield and bounced away.

“Contact!”

Logan reacted instantly bringing her AK up and wheeling in the direction Molly was shooting. A pair of smaller spiders, the size of Rottweiler’s were racing toward them along a tree limb. Molly got both in two quick controlled bursts before Logan could get her rifle on line. When they turned back the dark skinned female was pointing at them and one of the warriors with her broke into a run. As he did he pulled out a wicked looking curved sword.

Logan opened fire. The first rounds hit the warrior in the chest causing sparks to fly from the black armor he wore. Molly fired, and the spider that was accompanying him rolled to the ground, thrashing in death. Logan waited a heartbeat and settled on a spot between the warriors red eyes. This time her shots struck home as she fired a quick double tap. The force of the rounds caused the fighter to flip over onto his back in a spray of blood and bone.

Molly was now moving forward and Logan kept pace sighting in on the woman. Logan opened up with another round and the second warrior stepped in front of the female holding a large shield. The rounds struck the shield sparking and flashing but causing no real harm. Molly kept up a steady stream of fire on the spiders around the pair dropping one after another.

“Reloading,” Logan shouted and hit the magazine release button and then slapped another mag in.

Suddenly, the woman stepped around the warrior and pointed at Molly, three darts of black energy shot toward him and Molly dove for cover. Seeing an opportunity Logan started shooting as quickly as she could at the woman. Rounds sparked and flashed as they hit an invisible shield and then the warrior was between them again only this time he was charging. Molly rolled to his feet and fired aiming at the warrior’s legs. Molly was either a very good shot, or just lucky, because one of the rounds hit the fighters shin shattering it. This caused him to stumble and fall face first onto his belly.

Now the firing lane was clear so Logan resumed shooting at the woman only this time there was nothing stopping her rounds. They tore into the woman’s chest and she spun to the ground. Logan looked over at Molly just in time to see him deliver a killing shot to the warrior.

Molly glanced around but the few spiders remaining were disappearing into the woods. Logan moved to stand next to Molly and pointed. There across the stream the last human-spider hybrid was cut down by one of the two knights in silver. What really caught Logan’s attention was the woman. She was looking right at them and then she smiled and waived for them to come over.

Logan looked over at Molly, “I think they want us to cross over.”

Molly moved over to the river bank and looked down. At this point the drop was only a couple of feet and Molly could see the bottom.

“It doesn’t look too bad. Do you think we can trust them?”

Logan shrugged, “Hard to say. We just helped them and they’re the first natives we’ve run across, that didn’t try to kill us. I think we should give it a try.”

Molly let out a deep sigh and Logan noticed that he was shaking slightly in a post firefight reaction. Logan slung her AK over her back and then grinned at Molly.

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

With that she sprinted to the edge of the bank and jumped. In the lesser gravity Logan sailed out making it just past the half-way point before dropping into the stream with a splash. She’d judged the jump well and was in a shallow part of the river a bit upstream from the three fighters. Logan began sloshing toward the sandbar only to have Molly land a few feet behind her and to one side. Molly’s greater strength and bulk made his jump longer and he hit with a mighty splash drenching Logan. Instead of glaring at her partner Logan continued out of the water stopping a dozen yards short of the waiting natives. A few seconds later Molly joined her on the sandbar.

By this time the woman and one of the warriors had turned to face them. The other warrior had disappeared into the woods. For a few seconds they stood looking at each other. Logan’s first impression was that these were humans. Tall beautiful humans, but human none the less. Then the woman in the green robes pulled back her hood allowing the sunlight to kiss her long blonde tresses. Encircling her brow was a band of silver with an emblem on the front of a fang or pillar of ice. Then Logan felt a surge of shock run through her as she saw pointed ears sticking up through her hair.

“Holy shit! It’s an Elf!”

“Amin Narmartë Thlim Ith Mindon, e' i' Tuaen' ho Aran Turukáno, En' Ondolindë. Mankoi ier lle sinome?"

The Elven warrior with the woman moved forward and slightly to one side as he placed himself between Molly and the lady in green. He was now holding the bow he’d abandoned earlier and even though there was an arrow on the string it wasn’t pointed at either of them, yet.

“Munta ana equë?” The warrior asked, and then surprise colored his voice as he glanced back at the woman. “Quimellënya, ëa sina á Atan?”

“Look, we don’t understand. But we’re not your enemies.” Molly said, trying to sound friendly.

The woman glanced at Molly and Logan and then over at the warrior. “Náto, Othon, Ni sanwë.”

Then as if making up her mind she reached under her robe and pulled out something. Logan couldn’t see what it was but she cupped it in both hands and then started singing softly. The song was hauntingly beautiful and Logan shivered, somehow she felt like she was standing on a snow bank looking out over an icy plain. The feeling was both lovely and harsh. Then from between the woman’s fingers Logan saw that whatever she was holding had started to glow.

“What do you think she’s doing?”

“No idea,” Molly responded.

Then the song ended and the Elven woman’s green eyes met Logan’s blue eyes. The woman took a step forward and extended her hand. The stone had an oval shape and appeared to be nothing more than a river rock, except for the faint white glow and the small sigil etched onto the smooth surface.

“Sinenngwë indyo ana unuhuinë min eces.”

Slowly Logan moved forward and reached out to take the stone.

“What are you doing?” Molly asked, alarmed.

“I think she wants me to take it.”

“I can see that, but you don’t know what it’ll do.”

“I don’t think she means us any harm, and . . . call it a hunch, but we need to try something.” With that Logan plucked the stone from the Elf’s hand. As soon as her fingers touched the rock a little electric shock ran through her body and she felt the hair on her arms stand up. At the same time she felt the tattoo on her back sort of twist and then it responded to the stone by sending a little wave of energy through Logan. Then it went quiet and Logan blinked.

The Elven woman nodded looking pleased. “I am Narmartë Thlim Ith Mindon, a Ranger in the service of His Highness, King Turukáno. What brings you to Nevrast and the Southern Marches of Ondolindë?”

“I can understand you.”

The awe in Logan’s voice caused the woman to flash a quick smile. “It is known as Lórien’s blessing. The gift of tongues. Now, human, for I’m guessing that is what you are, how is it that you came to be in the Southern Marches of Ondolindë?”

Logan glanced over at Molly who was looking back with surprise. “I couldn’t understand a word you just said,” he confirmed.

“I can still understand you. This is amazing,” Logan replied in English. Then she turned to the ranger switching to Eldarin. “I’m Logan Campbell and this is Molly Falk,” she said indicating Molly, “we are strangers in this land. Oh, and yes, we are both human.”

The male Elf interrupted, “It is obvious that you are a stranger, but of the Second Folk, a mortal-man, amazing?!” With that the warrior walked in a quick circle around both Logan and Molly. “How did you come to be here, and what are those weapons you’re carrying? I’ve never seen anything like them.”

Logan looked at the warrior for a moment and then glanced back at the female. “Narmartë, are all Elven people so rude? I’ve given you my name and the name of my partner, who is this?” With that Logan gestured to the warrior.

The warrior’s face flushed slightly and he glanced at Narmartë for a moment before looking back at Logan. Then he nodded slightly, “I am of the Sindar, Narmartë is of the Noldor, and my name is Othon son of Aeglosson. Now, Logan, how did you come to be here, fighting the Children of Ungoliant?”

When Othon spoke Logan got the brief impression of a giant spider and shuddered. “We were on the estate of Molly’s father when his enemies struck.” Logan said, trying to sum up the events of the day before. “We managed to lock ourselves in a vault but our foes’ were at the door and would soon breach it. There was a gate in that place that connects to a gate in this world. Molly knew how to use the gates and it brought us to the ruins of some kind of tower. And when night fell, the giant spiders . . . Children of Ungoliant?” Logan paused to look at Narmartë’s who nodded, “They attacked us. We’ve spent most of last night and today trying to escape them. Who were the dark-skinned ones directing them?”

At this Narmartë frowned, “They are called Hróvaquendi although more common is Mólquendi. They are a twisting of our people by the Enemy.”

“This explains the stirring of the Ungoliantsén. Do you think . . .?”

Before Othon could continue Narmartë cut him off, “Now, is not the time to discuss that.”

Just then Logan felt a stirring at the back of her neck and glanced over at the edge of the woods. The second Elven knight moved silently into the light and saluted Narmartë. “Captain, I chased the two Ungolis that escaped. I lost them when they crossed the river.”

“Damn! Well it can’t be helped. Cainir, we need to return to camp. There is much I don’t understand about today’s events.” Then Narmartë turned to Logan and Molly, “This is Mistress Logan Campbell and Master Molly Falk, of the Second Folk.”

At this announcement Logan saw Cainir’s eyes widen slightly. “It is a pleasure to meet you. Long have I wanted to meet one of the Second Folk,” Cainir might have been surprised but his voice reflected a genuine warmth.

“Come accept our hospitality for the night. Our camp isn’t too far and I would like to hear more about your world, and what happened when you entered this land.”

Logan nodded and then turned to Molly and relayed the conversation to him. “Do you think we should go?” Molly asked. “I mean, we’re already several miles from the tower. We need to be able to return tomorrow before it gets dark.”

Logan nodded, “True, but I’ve got a feeling that we should figure out what’s going on before we try to return. The more information we have about the Ungoliantsén,” at Molly’s confused look Logan clarified, “the giant spiders, the better our chances of sneaking back to the gate.”

Reluctantly Molly nodded and Logan turned to the Elves. “We’d be pleased to accept your hospitality for the night.”

Narmartë flashed a bright smile and then turned to the forest, “Follow me.”

“Wait, before we go, do you have another of those stones, my companion would greatly benefit from Lórien’s blessing.”

“Alas, the stone I gave you is the only spell-sung piece I have.” Logan felt her face fall and Narmartë quickly continued, “I have more with my supplies back at our camp.”

Molly and Logan fell in behind Narmartë. Othon and Cainir draped a set of green cloaks over their bright armor and disappeared silently into the woods. Logan noticed that Narmartë moved almost completely silently as she ghosted along. It took every ounce of her skill to keep up and remain as quiet. Luckily Molly had inherited Logan’s woodcraft and was moving, if anything, easier than Logan through the forest. They spent the next several hours hiking through the woods before the ground started to rise and then through the trees Logan spotted a set of tall rock spires. They appeared to be a natural formation rising above the forest.

“Falcon’s Rest, we call those.” Narmartë said, having noticed that the formation had caught Logan’s eye. “We will be spending the night atop the taller of the two.”

It was another hour before they reached the base of the spire and Narmartë led them to a set of steps cut into the side of the pillar. The stairs had been hewn into living rock and were so well concealed that Logan knew she’d never have been able to find them without a guide. Even with the steps the climb was challenging. The spire of rock rose at least five hundred feet into the sky, well above the tops of the trees. The stairs were narrow, barely wide enough for Logan to move up without having to turn sideways. Molly had to twist his broad shoulders to make the climb.

By the time they got to the top Logan was slightly out of breath from carrying all of her gear up the steep stairs, yet her weariness was instantly forgotten by the view. The top of the rock formation was a small uneven plateau about fifty yards across. From here Logan realized she could see for miles in all directions. Without really thinking she moved toward the edge gazing out in wonder on the green sea of trees below. As far as she could see to the south, east, and west were trees. Cutting through the forest the thin silver ribbon of a river twisted flowing from north to south.

“Would you look at that?” Molly’s exclamation caused Logan to turn around. When she did she realized she had a clear view of the mountains to the north. It was difficult to judge the distance, but Logan was sure they were huge, rivaling the Hindu-Kush Mountains she’d gotten to know while serving in Afghanistan.

“My Lady,”

At the comment Logan turned around and saw a small rock formation near the center of the plateau. The rocks were of different sizes ranging from waist to shoulder height and were positioned in a haphazard circle, creating an open area about twenty feet in diameter. When Logan walked over she saw Othon standing next to one of the larger stones and Narmartë across the circle from him. Then as if by mutual agreement they each touched the stone they were standing by and whispered something Logan couldn’t hear.

“When did he get up here?” Molly asked nodding to Othon.

“I’ve no idea, I never saw him. Now, shush, something’s happening.”

Logan felt a tingle on her skin and the tattoo on her back flared up, not painfully but suddenly Logan was very aware of it. Judging by Molly’s reaction he had a similar sensation. Then there was a soft grinding noise and a third boulder set an equal distance from the first two started to slowly spin. As it did it rose up becoming taller and taller. By the second rotation Logan thought she saw an opening on one side. By the fourth rotation she was sure of it. When the boulder finally stopped, now twice as tall as its two counterparts, the side facing in showed a narrow door.

“Come,” Narmartë said, grinning at Logan, “our camp lies below.”

Logan followed Narmartë with Molly right behind her. When she set foot on the stair she looked for the device that had powered the boulder and found nothing. Whoever it was who’d built that door had done a good job of hiding how it worked. The darkness started to close in and just before Logan could reach for her flashlight she heard Narmartë say, “Cala.”

Logan saw that Narmartë was now holding what looked like a thin wooden wand and the last inch of it was glowing a bright blue-white. The radiance was more than enough to illuminate the stairs so they continued down. After about twenty feet they came to the bottom and Logan and Molly found themselves in a natural cave that had been modified by the Elves. At one end of the cave was a pool of nearly still water. Every few seconds a drop of water fell from the stalactites hanging above the pool.

“Look at that,” Molly said tapping Logan on the shoulder. When she turned she saw that the Elves had cut several bed sized alcoves into the side of one wall. Then Narmartë said, “Cala, Cala, Cala.”

With each repetition of the word she gestured at a crystal embedded in the roof of the cave. The crystals responded by glowing with the same blue-white light that lit her wand. In seconds the cavern was filled with light. At this Logan caught her breath again, in amazement. Under the blue-white light Logan could see that the cave held a variety of rocks, of every color.

“This place is beautiful.” Logan said to Narmartë. At this the Elven ranger smiled.

“The spire is known as Falcon’s Rest, this camp is known as Sweetwater Deep. The area gets frequent rainfalls. The stones above us funnel most of the rain water down to the pool. The water is cool and very refreshing.”

With that Narmartë moved to the edge of the pool and scooped out a handful. Unable to resist Logan followed Narmartë to the pool. The water did feel cool and one sip was all Logan needed to know that this was the purest water she’d ever tasted.

“Captain Narmartë, Cainir, will keep the first watch.” Othon said, breaking the silence.

“Thank you.” Narmartë said, and looked over at Logan and Molly. “Please pick out a bed and relax.” At this she gestured to the alcoves. “We’ll have food prepared soon. I have a few things I must attend to now.” With that Narmartë moved to one side of the cave to an arched doorway that Logan hadn’t seen before and disappeared.