“It is important I get to Voyarunta,” Egrin said calmly. “The lives of many foresters and grasslanders depend on it. Where can I find him?”

The tribesman regarded him in silence. Egrin waited, drawing on the legendary patience of his long-lived Silvanesti ancestors. His calm persistence was rewarded.

“The chief of the Dom-shu is at the Place of Birthing.” Twitching his head slightly over one shoulder to indicate a northeasterly direction, the Karad-shu added, “Two days on two feet.”

A day and half by horse. Egrin thanked the tribesmen. He had no idea what the Place of Birthing might be, but decided against questioning the foresters further. He was too relieved to see them go.

That day and the next night were full of portents. Drums beat far away; the whistling, humming noise continued to wax and wane. Egrin found totems and fetishes erected next to the trail-skulls on posts, carved boulders, and the skin of a bear tacked to a maple tree. As he rode by the latter, hornets erupted from the dead bear’s eyes and mouth.

He was instantly engulfed by a cloud of huge, stinging insects. The stings felt like a red-hot iron wire stabbing into him over and over. The attacking hornets caused the aged Brownie to dance sideways. Lashing the reins, Egrin drove the terrified horse away from the swarm. He slapped insects out of the air with his gauntleted hands, and the ferocious creatures tried to sting him through the heavy steerhide.

The insects pursued them only a short distance, but Egrin’s danger wasn’t done. Once stirred to action, Brownie was not easily calmed. The sway-backed horse barreled ahead, heedless of the branches that threatened to sweep Egrin from the saddle.

Galloping down a hill, the horse stumbled, throwing his rider. By the time Egrin sat up again, all that remained of the horse was the sound of his hoofbeats fading rapidly into the west.