She moved on quickly from there to the outskirts of Arborlon, choosing to land at the Elven airfield where she believed she might be lucky enough to find a friendly face. In fact, she found several. A handful of the Elven Home Guards she had been training with were working on a skiff nearby when she landed and wandered over to see what had brought her back.
“I thought you might be missing me,” she answered with a laugh. “Any warrants or postings out on me?”
She said it jokingly, tossing it off, watching them carefully for signs of uneasiness, but the Elves just shrugged.
“Who would bother with something like that?” one asked.
“Well, your new King wasn’t exactly friendly toward me when we parted,” she said.
“I wouldn’t spend my time worrying about that,” said another, pulling a face. “Our new King is too busy trying to find his backside with both hands to be bothered with the likes of Dwarves or Druids!”
“Unless he thought Dwarves might do a better job of finding it than he could, them being smaller in stature and all,” said another.
They all howled with glee, and she let them do so. No point in making this into something it clearly wasn’t. She laughed as if sharing the joke, and then casually asked, “Do you know where I can find Sian Aresh?”
They did better than that. One of them offered to find the Captain of the Home Guard and bring him to her. She almost agreed, but then decided it would be better if she found him herself. Sending word risked having Phaedon learn she was back in Arborlon, and she wasn’t ready for that to happen just yet. So she excused herself amid a final barrage of insults and jokes and set off for the Home Guard barracks where she was told Aresh could be found.
She took the trouble to procure and don one of the green cloaks of the Home Guard, leaving her own distinctive black one behind. The less attention she drew to herself, the better. She was putting herself in enough danger as it was, even though it seemed no one was looking for her at this point. Perhaps it was enough that she had fled with Crace Coram, removing herself from the city and the Elven population. Even Phaedon couldn’t seriously believe she had anything to do with the old King’s death. Mostly, she imagined, he simply wanted the Druids out of the way while he went about the business of establishing himself as King.
She knew her way around the Home Guard barracks well enough by now to come into the building through the rear entry and make her way to Sian Aresh’s office without being stopped. She stood just outside his door and listened to him speaking with another Elven Hunter, waited until the latter departed, and then stepped inside and closed the door behind her.
“Seersha,” he said, looking up, clearly startled. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Probably,” she answered. “Is the King still hunting for me?”
“The King has forgotten all about you. Is it your intention to remind him? What are you doing here?”
Quickly, she told him. The demon army had breached the walls of Arishaig, and the city was lost. The Federation army stationed there was broken and mostly destroyed, the population driven out, and the buildings in ruins. Now the attacking army—hundreds of thousands strong—was coming for Arborlon and the Elves, and seemingly without stopping for sleep. It marched north at a pace that would bring it to the mouth of the Valley of Rhenn in two more days.
“Do not rely on my word alone,” she finished. “Send scouts to witness for themselves what I have just told you about the size of this threat. The Elves are in grave danger, Sian. The King must act.”
He was on his feet. “The King will do what he wishes. That much has been made plain enough already. Even the presence of a demon army doesn’t guarantee that he will do as he should. He lacks his father’s good sense. He lacks …” He shook his head, as if unwilling to spend the time making a list. “Wait here while I will dispatch the airships and men needed to confirm your report.”
He went out the door and left her standing at his desk. She moved over to a high-backed wooden chair and sat while she waited for him to return. She was weary from all the travel and so little sleep, but there was nothing she could do about it just yet. Too much needed to be done first. She sat there thinking on it, going over again the plan she had hatched while flying back.
Aresh returned, closing the door once more and reseating himself. “We should have a report by tomorrow. Now, what of you?”
She shrugged. “I came back because there was nowhere else for me to go. I need to be where the fighting is if I’m to serve any useful purpose. I thought Aphen might have need of me, as well, when she returns. It’s worth the risk.”
“If you stay out of sight, the risk shouldn’t be great.”
“I can’t do that. I want you to take me before the King and High Council. I want to speak to them about what’s happening and what they need to do. What they must do. I’ve sent word to both the Border Legion and the Dwarves. I am hoping they will respond and send reinforcements to the Elves before the demon army reaches you.”
“Not enough time for that,” the other responded with a shrug. “Tomorrow morning? Even with airship transport, it will take them longer than that just to mobilize. But the bigger problem is the King. He doesn’t want help from any quarter. I’ve already spoken to him about the danger of an attack. He ignores it. He believes the assault to be directed toward the Federation alone. He uses his time to consolidate his position; he worries that like his father he, too, might be assassinated. He sees enemies everywhere. He has rescinded Emperowen’s order to mobilize and go to the aid of the Federation. He has decided to hunker down and wait this business out.” The Elven captain shook his head.
“Why is he doing this?” Seersha asked in dismay. “How can he think the Elves are safe from what’s happening? In any case, it points up the need for my report to the High Council. Perhaps they will find the backbone to act in spite of the King.”
Aresh shook his head. “The King is not himself, and he was not working with much even before he ascended to the throne. He is distracted, and his decisions feel arbitrary. I have managed to mobilize the Home Guard and the Elven army under the pretext of securing Arborlon, but I have no orders to take any part of it out of the city. We sit on our hands, waiting on the King.”
“Even knowing that the Ellcrys fails and the walls of the Forbidding are falling? Even knowing what Aphenglow and Arling have set out to do? Doesn’t anyone see what lies ahead if they fail?”
The Captain of the Home Guard leaned back in his chair. “No one can quite believe the old King is dead. So they see Phaedon as an anchor, a fixed point with which they are familiar and to which they can turn—and not as a weight that will drag them down. They don’t know him as you and I do. If Ellich were on the throne, it would be different. But Ellich is imprisoned.”
Seersha gave it another moment’s thought and then stood. “Then let’s do this another way. Arrange a private audience with the King. Do it any way you can manage, but do it quickly. Let me deal with Phaedon. I think I can find a way.”
“What you can most probably do is find a way to get yourself locked up with Ellich. The King is not inclined to listen to anyone. He rules, but he is paranoid and in fear for his life. This is a dangerous business you undertake, Seersha.”
But she insisted, and he finally agreed to do as she asked, though not without once more warning against it.
He went out again, and this time he was gone for the better part of an hour. While he was absent, she mulled over what lay ahead. The Elves would need to defend the entrance to the Valley of Rhenn. It was their only viable choice if they hoped to make a stand against an army of this size. A narrow opening could be defended and held for at least a few days, long enough perhaps for the combined forces of the Dwarves and Callahorn to reach them and attack the demons from the rear.