If any of them remained by then.

If any of them remained by then. She stood at the edge of the Gardens of Life close to where the Elicrys grew. The ancient tree lifted skyward as if to fight through the vog and breathe the cleaner air that lay sealed above. Silver branches glimmered faintly with the light of lan- terns and torches; scarlet leaves reflected the volcano's darker glow. Scatterings of fire danced in strange patterns through breaks in the tree as if trying to form a picture. She watched the images appear and fade, a mirror of her thoughts, and the sadness she felt threatened to overwhelm her. What am I to do? she thought desperately. What choices are left me? None, she knew. None, but to wait. She was Ellenroh Elessedil, Queen of the Elves, and all she could do was to wait. She gripped the Ruhk Staff tightly and glanced skyward with a grimace. There were no stars or moon this night. There had been little of either for weeks, only the vog, thick and impene- trable, a shroud waiting to descend, to cover their bodies, to enfold them all, and to wrap them away forever. She stood stiffly as a hot breeze blew over her, ruffling the fine linen of her clothing. She was tall, her body angular and long limbed. The bones of her face were prominent, shaping features that were instantly recognizable. Her cheekbones were high, her forehead broad, and her jaw sharp-edged and smooth beneath her wide, thin mouth. Her skin was drawn tight against her face, giving her a sculpted look. Flaxen hair tumbled to her shoulders in thick, unruly curls. Her eyes were a strange, pierc- ing blue and always seemed to be seeing things not immediately apparent to others. She seemed much younger than her fifty- odd years. When she smiled, which was often, she brought smiles to the faces of others almost effortlessly.