The Ard Rhys nodded. “It is. I want you to come with us. No, that isn’t putting it strongly enough. I need you to come with us. Allanon’s shade made that clear. Without you, we diminish the chances of success. But I don’t want you to make a decision blindly or in haste. I want you to think about it carefully. I want you to talk it over between yourselves and perhaps Farshaun and then sleep on it afterward before you make a final decision.”
She paused. “There’s one other thing I haven’t told you. Allanon’s shade also said it sensed this expedition would be very dangerous. Not all of us, it said, would come back alive. I believe that is probably true. Hunting for something as powerful as the Elfstones will attract dangerous enemies. The young woman who discovered the diary has already been attacked three times in her home city of Arborlon. Aphenglow Elessedil is my cousin, a member of the royal family, and a skilled magic user. Even these weren’t enough to protect her. Someone else already knows what we seek or guesses at its importance. It won’t stop with Aphenglow. We can expect to have to fight for our lives and for the success of our quest at other times and places along the way. There’s no use pretending otherwise. That isn’t something you should ignore. The Druids accepted that risk when they chose to join the order. This isn’t so in your case. You have no obligation to put yourselves in danger.”
Redden exchanged another glance with Railing. “We aren’t afraid. We can take care of ourselves.”
“We’ve been taking care of ourselves since Father died,” Railing added quickly. “Farshaun could tell you.”
“I imagine so.” She got to her feet. “Why don’t you go talk to him now about what I’ve told you. If you are willing to come with us, then we want you. The invitation has been extended.”
“Will Farshaun be coming?” Redden asked impulsively. “Wouldn’t he be someone who could help with the airship if there was trouble?”
“What about Mirai?” Railing was quick to add. “She could help, too. She’s been flying airships since she was ten years old. She’s better at it than we are. We know Sprints and racing, but Mirai knows all about the big airships.”
“She’s a Leah, you know,” Redden cut back in. “There’s always been a Leah, too, on those quests you mentioned. On most of them, anyway. She should go if we do.”
Khyber Elessedil shook her head slowly. The lines around her eyes and at the corners of her mouth deepened, suggesting for the first time that even the Druid Sleep could do only so much to keep aging at bay. “Maybe you have looked after yourselves since your father’s death and can protect yourselves if the need arises. But can you protect Mirai, as well? You have the power of the wishsong to call upon. Mirai Leah does not. You should consider what that means.”
The twins watched her walk back down toward the airfield, waiting for her to reach the flats before climbing to their feet.
“She’s right, you know,” Redden said quietly. “About Mirai.”
Railing didn’t answer.
They found her at Farshaun’s house, a small cottage nestled in the southern fringes of the village, set alone in a grove of old-growth hardwoods canopied overhead by a vast umbrella of branches and leaves that left the cottage dappled with shadows and sunlight. She was sitting on Farshaun’s tiny porch, watching him braid a lanyard that he intended to use as a sling for his conch shell, a summoning horn used by Rover airmen to alert one another to danger or to call for help in times of trouble. The Rovers had begun using them only recently and had found them a better tool than shouts or message birds when a swift response was necessary.
The twins walked up and sat down with the girl and the old man, and Mirai looked at them and immediately said, “What’s wrong.”
“Nothing,” said Railing.
“Everything,” said Redden.
Then they recounted what the Ard Rhys had told them—the purpose for her coming to find them, the nature of the quest she was proposing, the extent of the danger it presented, their mother’s efforts to keep them from going and Khyber Elessedil’s efforts to persuade them to come anyway. Because even if she was telling them to consider things carefully, to think it all over before deciding, she clearly believed it was necessary for them to make the journey.
“The missing Elfstones,” Farshaun mused when the twins had finished. “That would be something, if they could be found. I think everyone decided a long time ago they were lost forever and wouldn’t be seen again.”
“What do they do?” Railing asked.
He shrugged. “I don’t think anyone knows. That’s what I mean. Find the Elfstones and you find the answer to one of the greatest secrets of all time. Of course, maybe you open a can of worms instead. Finding magic of that sort could be the most dangerous thing ever to happen.”
“But less dangerous for the Druids to find them than some others,” Redden said.
“Maybe so. But we won’t know until it happens. Things like this have a way of coming back to bite you. I’m just saying what you already know, all three of you. What seems like a good idea at the time can turn out to be a bad one looking back at it later.”
“What will you do?” Mirai asked.
Redden shook his head. “We’re supposed to think it over and make a decision. Railing’s already made up his mind. He wants to go. I guess maybe I do, too. But maybe Farshaun has a point. This feels like one of those things we might decide later on was a mistake.”
“Except this time making the wrong decision could kill you,” she said quietly. “Your mother might be right about not wanting you to go.”
“You always take her side,” Railing griped. “If we did everything Mother told us to do we’d never do anything. We’d never go anywhere or see anything or fly airships or …”
“I get the point,” she interrupted. “But we’re not talking about the way you live the rest of your life. We’re talking about if you live it. Pay attention to what’s on the table.”
“She’s right,” Redden agreed.
Railing gave him a look, then turned to Farshaun. “What do you think?”
The old man shrugged. “I’m not about to tell you what to do in this business. I can see the argument for both sides. You’re big boys; you can decide for yourselves. You don’t need any help from me or Mirai.”
Mirai made a face. “I wonder.”
“If it were you, Farshaun, would you go?” Railing pressed.
Farshaun laughed. “I don’t know. What does it matter? No one has asked me to go. This has to do with you, not me.”
“But what if you were asked?”
“I’d think about it, like you’re supposed to do, and I wouldn’t spend my time trying to find out what someone else would do! Especially an old man whose best years are behind him. Now get out of here, the two of you. Go!”
He chased them from his cottage and stood watching until they were out of sight.
“Cranky old toad,” Railing muttered.
“He just doesn’t want to make the decision for us. He doesn’t want to have to live with the responsibility.”
“I notice he kept Mirai with him.”
“He doesn’t want her to have to live with it, either.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“What are you going to do?”
They walked on, undecided.
They went to bed that night with the matter unresolved. They were sleeping on Farshaun’s back porch in hammocks, the air warm and sweet, the night sounds soft and distant. They had gone over the pros and cons of staying and going until they couldn’t stand to think about it anymore, all without reaching a decision. Mirai had quit talking to them. Farshaun had ordered them to leave any further discussion outside his front door. Redden and Railing had grown weary talking about it and getting nowhere. Dinner that evening had been a desultory experience, and in the end they had eaten almost nothing.