She got to her feet and went to her mother, enfolding her in her arms in a gentle hug. But her mother was rigid and unresponsive, and Arling held her only for a moment before releasing her again and stepping away.
“I have to go now,” she said, desperately wishing she could avoid the need for doing so. It was more than her reluctance to be the bearer of the Ellcrys seed, more even than her fear of what might be required of her once the seed was quickened. Her mother was so alone and needed her so badly; what would she do if Arling failed to return? What would become of her?
“What is you go to do?” her mother asked suddenly, still huddled on the couch. “What is so important that you would leave me like this?”
Arling almost told her. Why shouldn’t she know? Why shouldn’t she be made aware of what her daughter faced? Why shouldn’t she think well of her for making a sacrifice that would possibly save them all?
“I can’t tell you that, Mother,” she said finally, backing away from her impulse to say more. “I am sworn to secrecy by the order.”
“Yes,” her mother said after a long silence. “Like your sister.”
Arling felt stung. “This isn’t—”
“Go!” Afrengill Elessedil shouted, springing up suddenly from the couch and advancing on her. “Get out of my house! Lies! You tell me lies! Go join your sister and become what she is! That’s what you’re doing, isn’t it? Isn’t it?”
Arling shrank from her mother’s fury, tried to say something to defend herself and failed. She couldn’t find the words, couldn’t make herself respond. Instead she turned and fled from the home and her mother, back through the door and into the night. She ran blindly down the pathway until Aphen stepped out of the shadows and caught her up, wrapped her arms around her and held her close.
“Shhh, shhh,” her sister whispered. “It’s all right. I have you.”
Arling nodded, tears streaming down her face. “I know.”
But it wasn’t all right and might never be again. Even her sister’s comforting presence couldn’t change that.
On the other side of the darkened house, tucked up under the eaves and close by the window through which it had been listening to Arlingfant and her mother converse, the creature that served Edinja Orle watched as the sisters moved down the walkway and out of sight. Then it dropped to the ground. Long and lean and feral, it flexed its limbs, relieved to be back in its natural state. Or at least the state to which it had been rendered during one of Edinja’s ongoing experiments. It had been an Elf once but had fallen under the power of the Federation witch and now served as her eyes and ears within the Elven home city, believed by all to be the one whose identity it had assumed.
But it wasn’t that person, of course. That person was long since dead and buried with no one the wiser.
The creature would have preferred to return to its nest. It would have liked to lie down and sleep, but it had a chore to complete first. So it crawled into the trees that crowded up against the back of the house, slinking through the long grasses and between the mossy trunks, safely hidden from prying eyes and chance discovery, until it had reached the cottage where the sisters lived.
Fully reverted to its natural physical state by now, the creature nevertheless retained the memories and intelligence of the Elf it pretended at being. It knew how to act the part. It understood it must remain safe when it was not necessary to go out. It knew to protect itself when its identity was threatened, but to otherwise stay hidden. It knew to report whatever it heard from or about members of the Elessedil family, particularly the old King and the young Druid, back to its mistress. It was instinctive by now; it was an effort that required almost nothing of it.
So it crouched in the darkness and waited, and after a while the sisters emerged carrying packs and weapons, cloaked and hooded and moving cautiously so as not to attract attention.
Too late for that, the creature thought with a sense of satisfaction. Way too late for that.
It began tracking them through the city.
Aphenglow walked with her arm about her sister’s shoulders, consoling and reassuring her following their mother’s verbal assault. Arling had stopped crying, but seemed beaten down and was leaning against her, head lowered. Sometimes Aphen forgot how young she was. Still so vulnerable. In the distance, storm clouds were mounting an assault, dark thunderheads filling the skies north and west in huge banks. Cymrian had been right about a change in the weather.
Preoccupied with her sister and not really believing that anything would happen when they were this close to the airfield, Aphen failed to sense the creature’s presence until right before it attacked.
They were passing through a grove of elm and oak when a black shape hurtled out of the darkness ahead of them and slammed into the sisters. Because Cymrian was trailing, he couldn’t respond quickly enough, and the creature was on top of its victims before he could stop it.
All three—the sisters and the creature—went down in a tangled heap. The darkness within the trees was so complete that it was impossible to tell one from the other. Aphen’s magic exploded out of her in a flash of brightness that catapulted both the creature and Arling away. The creature had hold of Arling’s cloak and tore it from her as it tumbled away. But it was up again almost instantly, coming at the girl once more, trying to get at her a second time. Aphen howled in despair and threw her Druid magic at the creature, knocking it off stride, staggering it. Arling was trying to crawl away, to reach her sister, but she was clearly stunned and seemed unable to make her limbs move.
Then Cymrian flew into the attacker, knives flashing, hammering it backward and away from Arling. The combatants thrashed and twisted as they fought each other, and Aphen saw Cymrian bury one of his knives in the creature’s back.
But then the two broke apart, and the creature regained its feet, took a quick look over at Aphen, and raced away into the woods.
Cymrian started to give chase, but Aphen shouted to him. “No! It wants to get you alone!”
The Elven Hunter halted, turning back. “Then let’s get to the airship. Now!”
Aphen helped Arling back to her feet. She might have lost her cloak, but her sister had a death grip on the leather pouch that contained the seed. She gave Aphen a determined smile. Other than scratches and bruises to her face and arms, she seemed to be all right.
The three raced ahead through the woods and out into the open road that led to the airfield. Though they watched for the creature, anticipating a further attack, it did not return.
At the edge of the airfield, the creature watched as the sisters and their protector raced over to the Druid airship. A crew of Elves was already aboard, raising light sheaths and fastening radian draws. A flurry of activity ensued as the newcomers boarded and the last of the baggage and supplies were loaded. The anchors were released seconds later, and the airship began her slow steady ascent into the night sky.
Within minutes, she had turned east toward the Valley of Rhenn.
Which was what the creature had been looking to discover all along, and what its attack had been designed to reveal. It had counted on the attack to disrupt the concentration of the three and cause them to react rather than think.
That way they wouldn’t bother trying to hide their choice of escape routes.
The creature bounded away, moving swiftly into the deep woods. Less than a mile away, a distance it covered in less than ten minutes, it reached a small, windowless blockhouse. The building was constructed of heavy stones, its walls sealed up save for a single iron door that was chained and barred. The roof consisted of heavy metal grates that could be removed if you knew where the locking devices could be found and if you could avoid the poison darts that would be triggered if you stepped wrong. Inside, a clutch of arrow shrikes—the messenger birds favored by magic wielders since the days of the Warlock Lord—huddled together, waiting to be dispatched.