All of which made it difficult to understand how they could endure their loss with such indifference, with such pointless stoicism, a dedicated refusal to try to change things when the magic was so clearly a part of who they were. She would never understand, if she lived another hundred years, how they could be so willing to let go of what had once been the foundation of their lives and done so much to shape their history.
She walked over to Arlingfant, tapped her sister on her shoulder, and embraced her when she leapt to her feet in surprise, as happy as she was that they were together again.
“Oh, I missed you, Aphen! Even for the few days you were gone! I’m so glad you’re back!” Arling was effusive, flushed with pleasure. “Tell me everything that’s happened. Come, sit over here with me where we can talk!”
She walked them over to a quiet spot away from the other Chosen and sat them down, her expression revealing her eagerness. “Will you stay now? Will you return to your work searching the archives?”
Aphenglow smiled and shook her head. “I am only back a short time before I return to Paranor.”
She could not tell Arling the truth, could not mention the diary at all, and must be careful that she said nothing that would reveal what the Druids were about. She could justify evasiveness but not lying openly and so could not say anything that would result in the latter.
“How long, Aphen?” Her sister’s disappointment was clear.
“A few days. I need your help. I was allowed to return under two conditions. First, I must find someone to act as my bodyguard. I told the Ard Rhys of the attacks on me, and she is worried that I am in danger. So she insisted I secure a protector. Do you know of someone who might accept the job? I know so few people now.”
Her sister hesitated. “Let me think about it. What was the second condition?”
“That I speak with Mother.”
“What do you intend to say? Why does the Ard Rhys insist you speak with her?”
Aphenglow shrugged. “She dislikes it that we are so at odds. She wants me to try to close the breach I created by choosing to become a Druid. She wants the damage repaired.”
All of which was true. Arlingfant shook her head. “It isn’t you who created the problem. So don’t say that. Mother is the one who is being unreasonable, refusing even to speak with you. She is the one who should take the first step.”
“But she won’t, so it is up to me. I have to try, at least. I will go to her as soon as I leave you. The Ard Rhys is right. No family should be split as we are.”
Her sister reached over and touched her shoulder. “I will go with you. It might help if I am there.”
But Aphenglow shook her head. She couldn’t allow that. Not if she wanted to speak openly to her mother about the connection between the Elessedils and the Omarosians. “I need to do this alone, Arling. It will be enough if you help me with finding a protector.”
Arling grinned. “It’s hard for me to imagine anyone protecting you. It is easier to see it the other way around. Besides, won’t you be leaving again right away?”
“Not necessarily. There are a few other things I must do.”
How much should she tell Arlingfant? Certainly not about the diary or the Omarosians or the missing Elfstones. But what about the request she must make of her grandfather that she be allowed to borrow the blue Elfstones to take them to Paranor and the Druids? Arling would hear about it quickly enough in any case. She would not be able to ask her grandfather privately. He was King before he was her grandfather, and the request she would make must be made both to him and the Elven High Council. Such audiences did not long remain a secret from the general population.
She got to her feet. “I had better go to Mother while I am still feeling brave. Can we meet and talk later, after you have finished your work here?”
Arlingfant quickly agreed, rising with her, giving her another hug, telling her she loved her and wished her well on her meeting with their mother. Aphenglow hugged her back and turned away.
It took her only a few minutes to walk from the Gardens of Life to their mother’s home—her own home once, but that seemed so long ago. When she was close enough to see it through the trees, she stopped in the shadows and watched it for a time, gathering her thoughts and her courage. Standing outside the house like this, waiting to speak with her mother, made her feel like a little girl again. It reminded her of how she had felt when she had done something wrong and been forced to confess it—ashamed, guilty, regretful, and a bit frightened of the consequences.
Yet she had done nothing wrong here and had no reason to feel any guilt. Nor was she a little girl required to answer to her mother for her life’s choices.
But still.
She walked to the door and knocked softly. No one came at first, but then she could hear a stirring on the other side of the door and sense a presence. Still, nothing happened. She waited patiently, tightening her resolve for what she must do.
When the door opened, she was shocked at how old her mother looked. Once a woman of great beauty, she now appeared haggard and worn, her soft radiance diminished and her familiar smile absent. Instead her expression was empty of life.
“Mother, please listen to me,” she said quickly, suddenly desperate to hear her mother’s voice, to do what the Ard Rhys had asked of her and repair the relationship. “I don’t want us to …”
Her mother straightened, lifting one hand quickly to silence her. “Are you still a Druid?” she asked, her voice sounding as if it belonged to someone else.
Aphenglow hesitated. “Yes, but …”
“Come back when you’re not.”
And she closed the door in her daughter’s face, locking it behind her.
Aphenglow left in something of a daze, head down, stunned by what had just happened even though it wasn’t entirely a surprise. She felt tears come to her eyes and streak her cheeks, and she wiped them away hurriedly.
This was so unfair, she thought. This was so wrong. Why was her mother being this way? After so long, why wasn’t she willing to talk to her own daughter?
She couldn’t bear to think on it, couldn’t stand the pain of having to do so, and she chose instead to go visit with her uncle. She found him working in his garden behind the home he shared with Jera, down on his knees, weeding and planting, this big man handling the fragile little plants with such care and affection.
“Aphen!” he exclaimed on seeing her, and got to his feet with a smile. He saw her face and stopped. “Why so sad, child?”
“I’ve come from seeing Mother.” The tears came anew. “Once again, she would not speak to me.”
Ellich took her in his arms. “She cannot get past your decision to become a Druid. She cannot bring herself to accept it. But she is otherwise unhappy, too. She speaks to almost no one these days. Not even to me.”
“Why will she not speak to you? You were once as close to her as I am now to you.”
Ellich released her with a shrug, stepping back with a smile. “I have done something to displease her. Does that sound familiar?”
Jera appeared, coming out of the house and down the veranda stairs to give Aphen a hug and a kiss. The three sat down together in the sun at a small garden table and drank cold ale while Aphen pushed aside the residual pain of having tried and failed to speak with her mother and instead spoke of how things were at Paranor and what she was doing back again so soon. She deflected most of their questions with harmless answers, just as she had done with Arling, saying only that matters went well with the Druids and she was back to do a little more with her research.