“The seed was given to me by the tree.”
“For what purpose?” Suspicion reflected in Edinja’s eyes now. “Why would the tree give you its seed?”
Arling hiccuped when she tried to change the answer she was compelled to give. She was suddenly having trouble completing her sentences, the result, she assumed, of her efforts not to say anything. “The Forbidding is failing and the demons imprisoned … are breaking free. The Ellcrys … must be renewed by the magic of the Bloodfire. I have been chosen … to make this happen.”
A long silence followed. Edinja looked away and then back again. “How did this happen?”
Arling didn’t know what to say, the words catching in her throat. Edina reached out and slapped her hard across the face. Arling jerked away. “The tree is dying! She must … renew.”
The sorceress rose and stalked about the room for a time, stopping once to pull back the curtains and peer out the window. “What happens if the seed does not reach this Bloodfire you speak about? What happens if the tree dies?”
Arling had lowered her head in shock from the slap, her eyes filled with tears. “Then the creatures of Faerie … imprisoned there … come back out into the Four Lands.”
“They would kill us all if that happened, wouldn’t they?” Edinja murmured, mostly to herself. “Can the Druids stop this from happening?”
“No.”
“Only this seed you carry can stop it?
“Yes.”
“Except you’re not carrying the seed anymore, are you? Where is it?”
Arling shook her head. “I don’t know. I had it … before the crash. Now it’s gone. I thought … you took it.”
Edinja turned away. “Someone took it. That much is true.” She walked away again, then turned around slowly. “Let’s consider your sister’s situation. If she’s alive, what will she do once she finds you missing?”
Arling squeezed her eyes shut as she gave her answer. “She will come looking … for me.”
“Exactly what I thought. She will come looking for you. A smart young woman with Druid skills and magic. She will figure out where you are and come to Arishaig to rescue you. From me.” She laughed. “Won’t that be convenient?”
Arling lurched up on one elbow, fighting to hold on to the words she wanted to speak. “Don’t hurt … her. Don’t.”
Edinja walked over and pushed her back down again. “You should be worried about yourself instead of your sister. You should be worried about what might happen to you.”
“If anything happens … to me, the Ellcrys … dies.”
Edinja made a dismissive gesture but said nothing. Arling swallowed hard. “Doesn’t the captain … or any of those … who brought me here know what happened … to the seed? Or to my sister?”
“Perhaps.” The sorceress pursed her lips as if considering. “They said nothing of it to me, but they might be hiding something. Frightened men often do that. Should we go and find out? At least you could be doing something useful while we wait for your sister to appear. I think you can handle doing this much to help move things along, don’t you?”
She hauled Arling out of bed by sheer force, bundled her into a robe, and put slippers on her feet. She was strong for someone so slight and managed the task easily. With her arms locked about the girl, she guided her from the room and down the hallway to where a panel in the wall concealed a massive iron door that opened into the interior of the building. A stone stairway spiraled downward into darkness and disappeared into a pool of impenetrable gloom.
Edinja gave Arling a friendly squeeze, as if they were close friends off on an adventure. “I don’t think you’re ready to attempt such a dangerous descent without help, let alone make the long climb up again after we’re done. I’ll have you carried.”
She reached into a niche beside the doorway and produced a small bell. Holding it out over the stairwell, she rang it three times. Then she returned the bell to the niche. Together the sorceress and the girl stood waiting.
A flaring of torchlight within the darkness accompanied a slow tromping of footfalls.
When the creature appeared, Arling very nearly bolted. It was vaguely human, but mostly something less—a huge semi-human with blunted features and listless movements. It climbed into view with slow, measured steps, as if repeating from clouded memory a process it had gone through many times but did not entirely understand. It did not glance up at them or seem to look anywhere at all. It carried its torch held out before it, but stared straight ahead as if light were unnecessary. There was an emptiness to its gaze that was frightening.
Edinja said something to the creature in a language that Arling had never heard. Then, after passing the torch to the sorceress, it abruptly picked up Arling without even looking at her. Cradling her in its huge arms, it began to descend the stairs once more. Arling, too frightened to struggle, let herself be borne into the depths of the building.
Edinja walked in front of them, holding up the torch so that the gloom was at least partially dispelled. “Stay calm,” she said to the girl. “He won’t hurt you.”
Arling didn’t believe this for a moment, but she was still too weak to do anything to help herself, and certainly nothing that would allow her to escape. So she steeled herself and kept her eyes averted from her bearer’s blank expression and empty eyes.
The descent seemed to take forever, each step measured by another footfall. At the bottom of the stairs they passed down a corridor that ended at a huge iron door. Arling could hear sounds from behind the door—grunts and squeals and guttural mutterings that suggested things more animal than human.
Edinja touched a series of studs on the door, and it swung open with a ponderous groan.
Arling gave a small gasp.
The room was cavernous and gloom-filled, but there was no mistaking its purpose. Chains hung from racks, and cages lined the walls. Metal tables were scattered across the room, many with sharp blades and tools of extraction resting on their bloodied surfaces. Fluids ran down funnels into drains and buckets. More creatures resembling the one that bore her were shambling about the room, moving slow-footed and witless. In the back of the room, men in cages screamed and begged, gripping the bars or sagging in postures of hopeless dejection.
Edinja directed the creature carrying Arling to the back of the room where the cages holding the screaming, moaning men were bolted to the floor. They saw her approach and began calling out to her: Lady, Mistress, please help me! Release me and I will never return. Please, I beg you, let me go. What wrong have I committed? Why am I here?
They seemed to be addressing Arling, their attentions turned to her rather than to Edinja, their hands reaching through the bars as if to grasp at the chance they thought she offered.
“Here are the members of the ship’s crew, the ones who brought you to me, eager to be of service.” Edinja motioned for the creature to put Arling down. “Ask them what you wish. If they have an answer, they will be most willing to give it to you.”
Arling was so horror-stricken she could barely get the words out. “Why are they here? What have they done?”
“They disobeyed me. This is what happens to those who don’t do as I ask.” Edinja seemed impatient. “Now, don’t waste my time. I brought you here so you could find out something about your sister. This is your chance. Ask your questions.”
Arling turned to the men. “Do any of you know what happened to my sister? Or to the other Elves?”
The muttering was pronounced. Nothing, Lady. They are fine and well! No, they weren’t even there! We never saw them! They must be safe by now! They killed those creatures we brought aboard—they looked like this one. And the man Stoon. We saw them dead, my mate and I. No one else! Please! Believe me!
So it went, words spoken in desperation, answers tinged with fantasy and lies, all of it useless. Arling turned away. “Can they be set free?” she asked Edinja without looking at her.