They stayed there a full day longer, healing, resting, and searching. The only magical items they found were a ring and a spell book. Fortunately, they healed somewhat before searching, for when Spiridale opened the book and glanced inside, it exploded in a ball of fire, injuring him even more. The book was destroyed.

Just to be sure, they destroyed the vampire's coffin, which they found in a room back behind the lab, and then destroyed the lab itself, where Geoffrey had researched his dark, magical secrets. Then they hoisted their gear and made their way back, leaving the torches burning.

They took their time journeying across the countryside, thoroughly enjoying the sunshine and each other. One week later they arrived in Hommlet, where the ring was identified by a local wizard as a ring of free action. It allowed its wearer to move freely through water or other situations which would impede movement. It now belonged to Larissa.

Spiridale stopped by the shop of William Thompson, his favorite blacksmith.

"They were great. Saved my life," Spiridale told him. "The longer design is better. Make five more arrows just like them, and 30 arrowheads." He placed a bag on the counter and walked away.

Mr. Thompson looked inside the bag to find 200 gold pieces, and smacked his lips, smiling.

Mr. Thompson liked doing business with Spiridale, and had his arrows ready the next morning.

 

After picking them up, Spiridale and Larissa headed southward to Larissa's home.

"I sent messages to my people," she said. "The tribe is reforming now that the threat is gone. I've told them about you and your situation, and, of course, you're more than welcome by everybody to join."

"Thanks," Spiridale said with a smile. It would be more wonderful than he ever dreamed to be back with his own kind.

"Oh, I can't wait to tell grandmother!" she shouted.

Spiridale just looked off to the horizon and kept silent. Maybe he would be wrong.

 

That evening, the sun shining red and gold through the forest, they arrived at Larissa's home. Larissa ran up to the front door. "Grandmother, we're home!" she called. Spiridale stood quietly in the gate.

"Grandmother?" she called again. The house was silent.

Larissa appeared in the front door. "There's no one here," she said simply. "She must be out gathering herbs."

"Larissa," Spiridale said softly.

Larissa just looked at him.

"Smell the house. Go in and feel the fireplace and the soup pot. Check to see how old her tracks are."

Larissa turned to look at the house, then back to Spiridale. There was fear in her eyes. "Where is she?" she asked.

Spiridale just shrugged gently. "She's gone," he said.

"No," Larissa whispered, slowly turning in a full circle to take in the house and the yard and the forest, as if they weren't real any more. "No, it – it can't be. But," she breathed deeply of the evening, "it is." She looked up at Spiridale.

"She's gone," she whispered. "And she's never coming back." She clutched him tightly, shutting her eyes tight against yet one more loss.

"She hasn't gone anywhere," Spiridale whispered back. "She's right here. She passed herself on to you."

Larissa and Spiridale looked at each other for a long time, the red rays of the sun bathing them in warmth, etching in both their minds a memory neither would ever forget.

They held each other again for a long, long time, and when they finally moved, the sun was down and the moon, no longer new but a glorious full moon, was rising into the sky.

"Come on," he said, and led her into the woods. They strolled, arm in arm, in peaceful silence until they found a clearing, resting in cozy comfort, talking with the stars and moon above.

They sat down in the middle of the meadow, cross-legged, facing each other. They lifted their hands, placing them palm to palm. They closed their eyes, and opened their minds and hearts to the communion, the hidden gift of soul-sharing that belonged only to elves. Slowly, the mental barrier of protection began to encompass them.

The night wind whispered through the woods and across the meadow, sending the moving grass laughing before it. And for a moment there were two elves, resting peacefully, sharing their lives. Then the wind blew again, and they were gone.