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momentarily caught off balance by the message, but motioned hurriedly to his brother, who was about to speak. If this new stranger were an enemy, he had to find out quickly. He clutched at his shirt pocket, reassuring himself that the Elfstones were still there.
    “What does the man look like?” he asked quickly, unable to think of any other way of finding out about the Skull mark.
    “Can’t really say, son,” was the muffled reply as his father continued to chew on his dinner, face bent to the plate. “He’s wrapped in a long green forest cloak. Just rode in this afternoon—beautiful horse. He was very anxious to find you. Better go see what he wants right away.”
    “Did you see any markings?” asked the exasperated Flick.
    His father stopped chewing and looked up with a puzzled frown.
    “What are you talking about? Would you be satisfied if I presented you with a chalk drawing? What’s wrong with you anyway?”
    “It’s nothing, really,” interjected Shea quickly. “Flick was just wondering if … If the man looked anything like Allanon … You remember?”
    “Oh, yes,” his father smiled knowingly, as Flick suppressed a swallow of relief. “No, I didn’t notice any real similarity, though this man is big,too. I did see a long scar running down the right cheek—probably from a knife cut.”
    Shea nodded his thanks and quickly pulled Flick after him as he moved out to the hallway and started for the main lounge. They hurried to the wide double doors and halted breathlessly. Cautiously, Shea pushed one door open a crack and peered into the crowded lounge area. For a moment he saw nothing but the ordinary faces of the usual customers and average Vale travelers, but a moment later he started back, and let the door swing shut as he faced the anxious Flick.
    “He’s out there, near the front corner by the fireplace. I can’t tell who he is or what he looks like from here; he’s wrapped in the green cloak, just as Father said. We’ve got to get closer.”
    “Out there?” gasped Flick. “Have you lost your mind? He would spot you in a second if he knows who he’s looking for.”
    “Then you go,” Shea ordered firmly. “Make some pretense of putting logs on the fire and get a quick look at him. See if he bears the markings of a Skull.”
    Flick’s eyes went wide, and he turned to escape, but Shea caught his arm and pulled him back, forcibly shoving him through the doors into the lounge and quickly ducking back out of sight. A moment later he opened one door a crack and peeped out to see what was happening. He saw Flick move uncertainly across the room to the fireplace and begin to poke the glowing embers idly, finally adding another log from the woodbox. The Valeman was taking his time, apparently trying to get in a position where he could catch a glimpse of the man wrapped in the green cloak. The stranger was seated at a table several feet away from the fireplace, his back to Flick but turned slightly toward the door behind which Shea had concealed himself.
    Suddenly, just as it appeared that Flick was ready to return, the stranger moved slightly in his seat and made a quick comment and Flick went stiff. Shea saw his brother turn toward the stranger and reply, glancing hurriedly toward Shea’s place of concealment. Shea slipped back further into the shadows of the hall and let the door swing shut. Somehow, they had given themselves away. As he pondered whether to flee, Flick abruptly pushed through the double doors, his face white with fear.
    “He saw you at the door. The man has the eyes of a hawk! He told me to bring you out.”
    Shea thought a moment and finally nodded hopelessly. After all, where could they run to that they wouldn’t be found in a matter of minutes?
    “Maybe he doesn’t know everything,” he suggested hopefully. “Maybe he thinks we know where Allanon has gone. Be careful what you tell him, Flick.”
    He led the way through the wide, swinging doors and across the lounge