He was reading it for the second time when he heard the flit approaching and watched Mirai settle it down smoothly in the clearing. Railing rose and went over to her immediately.
“I found it!” The words just burst out, his excitement too strong to contain them.
“I’m glad,” she said, but didn’t sound very glad.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing much. I just spent two hours lying through my teeth to someone I happen to like a lot and who trusts me to tell her the truth. She’s your mother, and I deceived her badly, and I didn’t much like doing it. That’s all.”
“Mirai, I know you …”
“She asked how you and Redden were, Railing. She told me she was worried about you, and I said you were both doing fine.”
He stared at her in stunned silence.
“I just had to get that out. Just so you know. We don’t have to talk about it again.” She beckoned. “Climb on. Let’s go.”
They flew back to the Quickening in silence.
25
Returned to the Quickening, Railing sat huddled with Mirai, Skint, Woostra, and Farshaun Req at the bow of the airship while he first related the history of his family in the time of Grianne Ohmsford—including the revolt of the rebel Druids at Paranor—and then read the final entry in Grianne Ohmsford’s journal aloud. No one interrupted while he did this, and for a few long moments afterward the silence continued. The day was winding down, the sun drifting west toward the horizon and the light beginning to wane. It had taken him and Mirai longer than they had realized to travel to Patch Run, retrieve the journal, and return to the vessel. Railing could feel time slipping away, its passage swift and unstoppable, running through his fingers like grains of sand.
“Let me get this straight,” Skint said finally. “Your great-aunt, once the Ilse Witch, then Ard Rhys, simply walked away from the Druids in order to exchange places with this girl, this Cinnaminson? She gave up everything to become a slave to an ancient magical creature that took the form of a giant tree and made young girls into spirits, invisible creatures that live in the air?”
“She felt she owed it to her brother’s son, because the tree took Cinnaminson as part of its payment for giving Penderrin Ohmsford its branch as a talisman that would allow him to pass through the Forbidding and back again.” Railing felt a surge of irritation at the way the Gnome was putting things, but he managed to stay calm as he spoke. “The girl he loved had been taken from him, and Grianne Ohmsford believed she should be returned. To do that, she had to change places with her.”
“But don’t you see?” Mirai added quickly. “It’s more than that. She was unhappy, and she knew she would never be happy as long as she was connected to the Druids. She could not continue as Ard Rhys. She was hated and distrusted in too many quarters. People would not forgive her. Haven’t you heard the stories of her time as the Ilse Witch? Too many knew them and could not forget or forgive. And once you’ve become as marked as she was, no matter how much good you do or how many people you help later on, you never entirely escape what you were. We are the sum of our lives and not simply pieces of them. We are the whole of our time in this world. Grianne Ohmsford couldn’t live with what that meant. She was looking for a way out.”
“So she found it as an aeriad in service to the tanequil,” Woostra said slowly. He gave Skint a look. “She wasn’t a slave, Skint. Not from the sound of her words in that final entry. Not from the little we have written down in our histories of the tanequil and the aeriads that are bound to it. The symbiosis might not be entirely clear to us, but there was never a suggestion that the voices speaking to Penderrin were troubled or miserable, or that slavery was involved.”
“If you say so.” The Gnome Tracker was clearly not convinced. “But look at what we are left with, even if your interpretation of things is true. We have to undertake a journey to this place called Stridegate—which I, for one, have never been to—to find this tree and persuade it to release Grianne Ohmsford from her service so that she can come back with us into the Forbidding and confront the Straken Lord. Think about that. Why would the tree agree to do this? Before, it wanted an exchange of bodies—Grianne Ohmsford for the girl. Who do we exchange? Or how do we persuade it that no exchange is possible, so it has to release Grianne and never mind that other little detail? Then there’s the matter of Grianne being well over a hundred years old. Sort of ancient to be going into combat against demons and such, don’t you think? And that’s if she even agrees to come back with us in the first place! Would you do something like that? If it were me, I would tell you to push off.”
“I won’t dispute any of those arguments.” Railing gave a shrug. He even managed a smile. “Why would I bother to try? You’re right about every one. But it doesn’t matter. I’m going anyway. I have to. If there is even one chance in a thousand that we might get what we want, that we might be able to bring my great-aunt back with us and free Redden, then I have to take that chance.”
He looked around at the faces of his companions. “I’m not asking anyone to go with me if they don’t think they can do so willingly. Mirai and I have made our decision. The rest of you have to do the same. I only read the journal entry so that you could hear it for yourselves and make your own judgment.”
“You might remember that only a couple of days ago we weren’t in the least convinced that the writings we uncovered even existed,” Mirai pointed out. “We had no real reason to think they contained anything at all about what became of Grianne Ohmsford. We thought she was dead and gone and her disappearance would be a mystery forever. Now we have reason to think otherwise. We know she’s out there and very likely still alive. We know that at least once before someone in service to the tanequil was released to come back. And Railing’s grandmother came back whole and unchanged!”
She took a deep breath. “Here’s what I think. This search is all about faith. Faith that what’s clearly impossible might somehow turn out not to be. Faith that we can do what we never would have thought we could. Faith to keep going when everything tells us we should turn back.”
She exchanged a quick glance with Railing. He gave her a small nod and a smile and waited. The silence deepened.
Then Farshaun cleared his throat and shifted positions on the decking. “My bones don’t tolerate hard surfaces like they once did. Too many years of riding airships and sleeping on hard ground. But I don’t fancy making any changes in my life. I don’t have enough time left to try experiments.” His eyes locked on Railing’s. “I’m all in on this. I like the sound of it. Maybe Mirai is right. Maybe this is a good chance to find out something important about the limits of possibility.”
“You just want to keep an eye on us,” Mirai deadpanned.
“I’ll go, too,” Woostra said. “You might need someone who can explain how an Ard Rhys thinks, how her mind works. Whatever she is now, however we find her, Grianne Ohmsford will still think like an Ard Rhys.”
They all looked at Skint. “I didn’t say I wasn’t going,” the Gnome said defensively. “In point of fact, I am. At least I know how to find my way around in that country. None of the rest of you could find your behind with both hands. I just wanted to be sure you understood how this was likely to turn out. You have to go into something like this with your eyes wide open.”
“That’s exactly what we need you for.” Farshaun gave him a look. “To help us keep our eyes wide open.”
Skint grimaced. “Glad you understand. Now, when do we leave?”