A/N: Hopefully the ending to this one isn’t too much of a cliffhanger.

Pixaor, Part Five.

Elian winced and shifted position as the carriage jounced yet again. It had come just after they had finished dawnmeal. Anadrel, hard-eyed and silent, had climbed inside and seated herself to stare out the window, whatever good humor she had had earlier vanished. She had not moved since.

Elian tried to enjoy the ride- it was like proceeding through a gigantic silver forest, and he would have liked to examine the tree-shaped homes and schools and businesses more closely- but Anadrel's silence stung him like a thorn, as did the presence of the two Starseekers in the seat across from them. One was Rian, who did not take his eyes from Anadrel, and was as disconcertingly silent as she. The other was an older woman with silver hair and hostile brown eyes who scowled at Elian, and snapped when he attempted conversation.

Elian was growing steadily more happy that he had not revealed his Starseeker gift to anyone. Besides the questions, they might have insisted on presenting him to the Mantle, and if there was this much pomp at even a relatively minor ceremony, how much must be present in their daily lives?

Anadrel was clad in a thick, heavy silver robe that showed up her white hair like a blaze of sunshine and emphasized the pallor of her face. The other two also wore silver robes and their hair down. They were alike from the shimmering silver blazes that enwrapped them in Elian's sight to the expressions they wore. It was becoming steadily more unnerving.

Elan glanced out again, and saw only servants hastening forward to welcome the carriage. It seemed that they had arrived.

Anadrel jumped out of the carriage as soon as the door opened, not waiting to be helped down. But she was forced to stay still as the other two Starseekers were handed out after her, and moved up to flank her. The servants scrambled into two lines, freeing the mages, leaving an aisle down which Anadrel walked. Her back was stiff and her movements jerky with rage.

Elian followed. No one paid attention to him, and he found himself smiling sympathy at Anadrel's back without fear that anyone else would notice. This was far more difficult for her than she was letting on. It was hard to be graceful when one was as angry as a dragon with indigestion.

The doors of the Elicalara opened before them, swinging by means of no magic that Elian could sense, and no machinery that he could hear. They were only slightly more impressive than the doors of Corafur's Hall of Stars, however. Anadrel led the way in, as well, her head up. Elian and the servants hurried to bring up the rear. Except for their footfalls, and the background noise of breathing and heartbeats that sensitive Elwen ears would always hear, it was silent.

Elian wasn't certain if that was part of the ceremony or not. Anadrel radiated fury that silenced everyone within speaking distance, and perhaps even those further away could sense the vibrations roiling from her, unfocused silver waves in the mental world, the bright color of blood.

Elian wished again that he dared use his Starseeker magic to calm her. But such a mundane use of magic would be fully detected by the Mantle, unlike his hide-sphere, and the Deriad might recognize the signals.

And there was the Deriad just ahead, waiting at the end of the aisle, with a smile on his face that was fast melting away as he looked at Anadrel. He still wore the half-cloak, but he held the coronet in one hand, as if preparing to place it on her head.

He began, "My lady, the stars shine fair today. That you honor this Hall with your presence-"

There was more, or seemed to be, but the man's throat closed under the sheer pressure of Anadrel's burning silver eyes. He bowed wordlessly and gestured her past. She stalked past as if she were hard put to it not to strike out at him.

The Deriad- Elian thought his name was Jenexor- stared after her, seeming troubled, one hand pressing the smooth metal of the coronet. Then he followed her, as did Rian and the woman who had accompanied them in the carriage. The servants broke and scattered like a school of fish when the shark comes, hurrying in a slightly different direction, down a narrow corridor that quickly widened.

Elian knew they were going to the amphitheater that was a part of every Elicalara's design plan, where the Starseekers and Starchasers could gather to watch ceremonies like this one. The assembly hall in Corafur had scarcely been used for the last thousand years. The only time he could remember was when he had been elevated to Starseeker.

A tingle of excitement ran through him again. However brief his stay in this time, he was still seeing many things that he would never have seen if he had stayed in his own time, learning things he would never learn elsewhere, and not caring about Viirta's scoldings. Yes, he was enjoying himself.

The assembly hall opened before him. The entrance was on a high tier above the ranked levels of seats. Elian was forced by the stream of people to take a chair high up, but he did not mind that. It meant that Anadrel would be that much more likely to see him.

The din in the hall was almost deafening, or perhaps it only seemed that way compared to the silence inspired by Anadrel. There were perhaps five hundred Starchasers and twice that many servants, and their voices bounced and bounced again in the soaring hall. All of them were excited, and even those who had seen Anadrel's face and felt her tightly coiled fury were beginning to let that excitement take them over once again. They hoped she would prove a worthy successor to the Mantle, Elian learned by listening. Jenexor might not live much longer- he was of the age when death sometimes took Elwens quietly in their sleep- or else his gifts would not last to support the Mantle much longer. Young blood was needed, young gifts, someone who could rejuvenate the Starseekers and lift them to their feet. Listening to them, Elian learned that they believed what he had once believed: that the changes Anadrel would inevitably make if she took up the Mantle would be good, were needed.

The unhappiness burning behind the rage in her eyes had dispelled whatever vestige of that thought he might have had.

"My lord?"

Startled, Elian turned, and found himself gazing up into Rian's eyes. As always when he spoke to Elian, the young Starseeker's face was unreadable, and he bowed as if he was trying to make it doubly so.

"Anadrel has asked to speak to you."

Elian sighed and stood. He must go to her, but there was also something that he must say first.

"I'm not in love with her, you know."

Rian started violently, something flickering behind his eyes, as if he were dismayed that his secret had been read so easily. Or perhaps he was hopeful, and his whispered question was only for confirmation of what he wanted to believe. "What do you mean?"

"I am her friend, but I do not love her as you do. You need not be jealous." Elian hoped none of his amusement showed through. Rian did not need to worry, but it seemed that Elian would need to repeat it several times before the young Starseeker would let himself be convinced. He was studying Elian with wide eyes now, and the hope in them was plain.

"You mean that?"

"Yes. I do want what's best for her, but not-"

For some reason, that was the wrong thing to say. Rian's eyes steeled, and he hissed in a soft voice, "What is best for her is taking up the Mantle!"

Elian could not have been more surprised if Rian had struck him. He stared hard at the young Starseeker, wondering how he could be so blind to Anadrel's desire not to go through with this, and this time he was the one who needed to ask for confirmation of his beliefs.

"Really? You're sure of that?"

"Yes." Rian looked stubborn, and tolerant, as if he realized that Elian could never have his understanding of the situation and was making allowances. "She may hate the idea now, but she is the best choice for it. And once she sees how much good she's doing, she'll grow to love it, I'm sure."

Elian ground his teeth down to keep from answering, startled by his protective rage. Rian presumably knew Anadrel better than he did. Perhaps he was right, just as Kaada was.

Still, he said only, "Take me to her, if you will."

Rian studied him with a smug smile for a moment, then nodded and turned away, threading his way between the seats with murmured apologies. The glances turned on them were curious, now and then, but the silver robe of a Starseeker won them passage. Elian followed behind him, troubled in a way that he could not explain.

If he could not afford dear friends here, he could not afford enemies either.

Rian led him to the bottom row, and then around the great open circle where Anadrel would presumably face the Mantle. Halfway through emptiness, they stepped through a ward that Elian hardly noticed, and were somewhere else. A gate, built right into the building, Elian thought in shock. There had been an enormously powerful mage here during some point in the past.

This room was bare of everything except Anadrel, who paced back and forth, as regularly as the sands in an hourglass falling. She did not seem to notice them until Rian coughed gently, and then her gaze fastened on Elian first of the two of them.

"Thank you," she said.

It could have been to Rian for bringing him, Elian thought, but the young Starseeker obviously didn't think it was. Perhaps he had been reassured by Elian's declaration of neutrality and friendship, however, because he did not make a scene. He nodded, once, and then withdrew back through the gate.

Anadrel stood there with her head cocked for a moment, as if listening, trying to determine that Rian really was gone. Elian was about to ask her what was so wrong, when her eyes fixed on his face, and a look of desperate entreaty came into them.

It was more frightening than her anger. Elian crossed the space between them in a stride, putting a hand on her shoulder. "What is it?"

Anadrel closed her eyes and shook her head, swallowing hard. He thought he saw a glitter of tears beneath the long, pale lashes, but he could not be sure, and she would certainly strike him if he mentioned it. He was about to mention it when she said, in a voice like the whine of a dying puppy, "Help me."

He knew what was troubling her. "You think the Mantle will choose you?"

She opened her eyes, and the tears were gone, but the desperation was not. It made looking into her eyes like looking into raw wounds. The emotion was more appropriate for a trapped, hunted animal than an Elwen. "I can't do this, Elian. If I am chosen by the Mantle- if it comes to me in front of everyone- then I won't be able to run away, My conscience won't let me do it. And they would guard me against such a thing, anyway. And then I will be trapped, giving up my gifts and my freedom for a cause that I don't believe in."

Elian drew a deep breath. He knew what she was asking him for: the help that she thought the tirshoon had brought him for. She was asking, and that meant she thought she was going to be chosen to don the Mantle.

There were two things he could do. One of them was incredibly risky, but the thought flashed through his mind and then was gone. It did not matter how risky it was. It was necessary to save Anadrel, and if that was the case, then so be it.

The first task, giving her courage, was one he could perform right at the moment. He slipped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her. She went rigid with surprise in his hold, but he was already speaking, softly and urgently.

"You said you trust me?"

The ghost of a smile worked its way onto her face. "Yes, I do. I don't have much choice at the moment, of course."

He tried to ignore the reminder of how heavily she was depending on him. "Then will you let me go back to the audience, and trust yourself to face the Mantle on your own?"

"Elian-"

"I can stop it, but only if you trust me."

Those words silenced her; she had not thought he would say them. She nodded firmly, hope glowing in her eyes.

"Good." Time to break another rule.