JEFF DELGIUDICE AWOKE in the stillness of night; perhaps it was the absence of sound itself that had stirred him from his peaceful slumber. For this enchanted valley, Illuma Vale, home of the elves of Ynis Aielle, was rarely silent, full of song and the music of nature: the wind blowing down off the Great Crystal Mountains, singing through the trees and tree houses; the dance of a mountain stream, leaping stones and calling its partings as it flowed through the vale.

Del slipped out of his bed and moved to the window. A quiet blanket of snow lay deep all about Illuma Vale, though the winter season neared its end. Even from this vantage point, in the dim light of night, Del could feel the enchantment of the place, the magic of the elves, and though he was troubled, that magic did find a tiny corner of his heart, bringing some measure of comfort and warmth.

He knew that he would not be able to find sleep again this night. Every night he awoke, or couldn’t get to sleep at all, his anxiety building as winter’s grip lessened. Soon the mountain trails would be open again, back to Avalon.

Avalon.

How many months had it been since he had walked the wondrous paths of that blessed forest? Since he had heard the song of the Emerald Witch, the mysteries of the melody sweeping through him like the veils of a gossamer gown? After the Battle of Mountaingate, the worst day of Jeffrey DelGiudice’s life, he had tried vainly to find his way back into the enchanted forest, even going so far as to travel around the Southern Crystal Mountains to seek a different route.

But Brielle, with her confusing magic, had shut him out.

Del had sought out the rangers, pleading with them to guide him into the wood. But, alas, they had no answers for him.

Summer turned to autumn, autumn to winter. And the snows had forced Del from Mountaingate, back to Illuma Vale, and had then shut the trails behind him.