[Mithadan]

Mithadan was below decks when he heard the scrape of one of the skiffs being lowered. He ran up a gangway and went to the rail, only to see Tule and Veritas in the small boat moving away from the Lonely Star.

"Hey!" he shouted. "Where are you off to? What's going on?"

His mind was filled briefly with the silvery sound of laughter. "We'll be back soon! Sooner than soon!" "We won't be gone any time at all!" Then more laughter before an abrupt silence. At a distance of perhaps a hundred yards from the Star, the skiff had shimmered and disappeared.

Mithadan gritted his teeth. "Elves!" he exclaimed with frustration. "Truly! An unpredictable lot aren't they? Tell me, what's for dinner this evening, Master Chef?"

The Man looked up at Angara who was lazing in the crowsnest above him with an amused look in her eyes. "Pureed carrots, squash and radishes for you Madame Wyrm."

He ignored the indignant growl from above him. The skiff and its two passengers had just reappeared. He waited impatiently for the Elves to return. They seemed to be in a jolly mood. He hoped their temperament would remain the same when they discovered that they would be cooking tonight.