Sgaile's expression hardened. "Has one of my caste passed this way?"
Ghuvesheane nodded sharply. "Three days ago. A woman, traveling fast. She took passage on Hionnahk's barge, headed downriver."
"You must try for us," Sgaile insisted. "By request of Most Aged Father."
Ghuvesheane's eyes narrowed, and he closed them.
"Ask them," Sgaile said flatly. "Ask in the name of Most Aged Father. Who among you would refuse the Anmaglahk?"
"Assisting your caste is not at issue," Ghuvesheane returned, eyes still closed. "As you well know."
Several elves down the docks stopped in their labors. Two came up behind Ghuvesheane, dressed akin to him. But they looked far more offended, as if Sgaile had asked something shameful-something he should not have asked at all.
"Is it not enough that you bring humans among us"-Ghuvesheane finally opened his eyes, his steady gaze shifting toward Leesil-"let alone a murderer and traitor?"
Wynn bit her lip against a blurted denial. Osha remained passive, but an echo of the dockworkers' embarrassment filled his expression.
Urhkar licked his lips as if they had gone dry. "That charge has not been validated."
Ghuvesheane remained unconvinced. "Perhaps not, but you still ask too much, and my answer is the same."
Neither Leesil nor Magiere understood what was said, but Wynn wondered what would happen if Sgaile was unable to procure passage.
A young and thin-muscled elf came up the shoreline. "I will take you," he said, ignoring Ghuvesheane. "No one need ask me." He glanced at Leanalham, as if he knew her. "We are still loading, but there is space near the front."
Dressed in leather breeches, he wore a goatskin vest with the leather side out and no shirt beneath it. He was barefoot and gestured to a small half-loaded barge down at the end of the next dock.
Ghuvesheane turned away with an exhale tainted with disdain.
Sgaile's jaw twitched as he nodded to the young bargemaster.
The exchange was peaceful enough, yet Wynn felt that it cost Sgaile more than all the rest of the journey combined. Much of their passage seemed to have taxed the Anmaglahks pride.
They were shown to a space near the barge s front where cushions and fur hides were laid out. Wynn made more seats out of their blankets. By the time the barge pulled into the river, everyone was situated, and the settlement slipped away behind them.
Their host's name was Kante-Spoken Word. Though the young barge-master seldom issued commands to his crew, two of four elves always stood post, one rear and one forward, while the other pair rested at the barge's stern, away from the passengers.
They floated down the Hajh both day and night, and Wynn passed the time watching a strange world drift by on the shores.
Trees of various make, flowers of wild color, a small waterfall, a bright flock of birds never ceased to pull her attention this way and that. Two fra'-cise Two fra'-cise drank at the river's edge, until they saw the barge and began jumping and splashing in foolish antics. Parts of the forest grew dense and dim. Then the barge would pass a large meadow spilling its vivid green to the river's shore, where a herd of speckled antelope grazed. Once, Wynn caught a glimpse of a large silver deer with tineless antlers, the same as had bellowed at them the first evening in the forest. drank at the river's edge, until they saw the barge and began jumping and splashing in foolish antics. Parts of the forest grew dense and dim. Then the barge would pass a large meadow spilling its vivid green to the river's shore, where a herd of speckled antelope grazed. Once, Wynn caught a glimpse of a large silver deer with tineless antlers, the same as had bellowed at them the first evening in the forest.
But eventually she grew frustrated and then weary.
All the wondrous sights passed beyond her reach. Landfall was rare. They ate cold meals, with no fire but for the large lantern hung at the bow each night. The simple fare was plentiful-fresh or dried fruit and smoked fish. The river provided clean water for drinking and basic washing. But as Wynn continued to watch the shore slip past, she began to feel slightly dizzy.
Osha remained good-natured, though he sat day after day in the same position.
He explained that this barge was loaded with raw materials. Kante would unload some in Crijheaiche, trading with skilled craftsmen in the community. He would then fill his barge with other materials or goods--pottery, spices, tools, fabric, clothing, and more-for the journey to the bay. Some would be traded with the people of the city there called Ghoivne Ajhajhe-Front of the Deep-while the rest would be bartered with ships bringing goods and materials to and from other coastal communities.
While they spoke, a high-pitched yip carried along the riverside, and Chap looked over, whining softly.
The entire majay-h pack bolted out of the forest to run along the reedy shore, paws splashing through the shallow water. Shades of silver-blue, steel, and inky gray moved in circles along the bank.
"Magiere, look!" Wynn said. "They are following us."
The white female barked once at Chap. He whined again, and Magiere reached down to scratch his head.
And still they floated onward four more days and nights.
Then as they passed an enormous sycamore with large roots reaching from the bank into the river, Wynn saw an archway in the base of its trunk. She almost missed it, mistaking its gray curtain for part of its bark.
"We are close to Crijheaiche," Leanalham said.
Wynn went numb. She did not know what to feel-relief or anxiety?
"How close?" Leesil asked, craning his head around.
Leanalham pointed to two broad elms.
Wynn saw more doorways as the barge drifted by. Soon, every other oak, cedar, and fir was larger than the last, and the spaces between them broadened.
Sgaile stood up when five long docks appeared on the shore ahead, with barges and smaller boats moored along them. Wynn caught a hint of joy on his face.
From what she understood, they would enter one of the largest communities in all the elven Territories. But Sgaile did not appear nervous. Was he not worried about their reception?
He put two fingers in this mouth and let out a long whistle.
Kante stood in the barge's prow and dipped his pole into the water. All four of his crew around the vessel did likewise, and the barge turned smoothly toward the docks. Where the docks met land, no trees blocked the view, and Wynn took her first glimpse of Crijheaiche.
The doorways in these trees were larger than those she'd seen elsewhere, and some trunks bulged to impossible size at their bases. She saw stalls of planked wood and shaped flora and colored fabrics. Inside these, occupants were busy at many kinds of work. One place appeared dedicated to the purification of beeswax. She heard rhythmic metallic clanks but could not spot anything like a smithy. There were fishmongers nearer the river, or the elven equivalent of such.
As the barge slowed in order to make harbor, a wild tangle of aromas filled Wynn's head. Beneath the scent of baked and roasted foods were rich spices and the powerful scent of herbs she had only known in the gardens of her guild on another continent.
For all the industry here, everything was still interwoven with the natural world.
Kante set his pole to stop the barge as four Anmaglahk trotted through the open bazaar and down the dock. Their long hair of sandy to white blond blew free in the breeze. None wore his or her cloak tied the way the few Wynn had seen beyond this land.
At first, only a few other elves turned and stared at the new arrivals, for barges landing here would be a common sight. From a distance, Leesil and even Magiere appeared to escape scrutiny. Perhaps their elven clothing obscured their true nature until an onlooker peered more closely. But a few eyes widened at Chap. Apparently, a majay-hl riding a barge was not a common sight.
The first of the four Anmaglahk to reach the barge's side was young, with blunt but prominent cheekbones.
"Sgailsheilleache, well met," he said in Elvish. "Frethfare hoped you would arrive by today."
He did not look at Wynn or Magiere. In fact, he seemed determined to cast his eyes anywhere but in their direction.
"Where is she?" Sgaile asked without greeting.
"With Most Aged Father," the young one answered. "I will tell her you have arrived."
"Has anyone seen en'nish?" Urhkar added.
The young Anmaglahk became rigidly formal at the sight of him and bowed his head in a reverent fashion.
"Yes, Greimasg'ah. She arrived two nights ago."
That one strange word eluded Wynn. A "holder" of something? Perhaps a title, as it certainly was not part of Urhkar s full name.
Sgaile nodded. "Have the quarters been prepared?"
"Yes, of course," the young elf answered.
Sgaile turned to Leesil, switching to Belaskian. "My caste has prepared a comfortable place for all of you. Please follow, but first... you must relinquish your weapons once more."
Leesil snorted. "You want to get us out of sight? Then where is my mother?"
"In truth, I cannot say," Sgaile answered and looked away. "You will soon speak to Most Aged Father, and he will answer in good faith. Now please, your weapons."
Wynn unbuckled the dagger, uncertain whether or not she was relieved to be rid of it. She was about to hand it to Sgaile, but turned instead to Osha. He took it with surprise and bowed his head as he tucked it in his belt.
"All right," Leesil said, unstrapping his punching blades. "But I want to see this leader of yours, and soon. Today."
He held out his blades and his stilettos. Sgaile took them with a hint of relief in his eyes. Once again, Magiere was last to relinquish her falchion, but she handed it over without a word. Leesil placed his hand on the back of her neck, combing his fingers through her dangling black hair.
Throughout the community up the slope, and across the other docks, numerous elves in bright clothing went about their business. Wynn noticed the Anmaglahk among them. They stood out like dark pebbles in a clear stream's bed.
Kante picked up Leanalham's bundle before she could do so and held it out to her. The gesture made the girl fidget nervously, and she would not look him in the eyes.
"You have my thanks..." Sgaile said to the bargemaster, but trailed off, unable to say more.
Kante raised a hand in polite dismissal. "No need. You always have my service."
He offered his hand to Leanalham. This made the girl even more uneasy, but she took it as he helped her onto the dock. Leesil lifted the chest of skulls and slipped his arms into its rope harness. Osha and Urhkar handed baggage off to their newly arrived comrades.
As Wynn stepped from the barge behind the others, the first young an-maglahk glared at Leesil and pointed insistently to the chest. When Leesil returned only a silent stare, the young one's expression hardened. Two of his companions dropped their baggage and closed in as he reached out.
Before Leesil could strike, Magiere stepped in front of him, shielding him from any assault. Sgaile shifted instantly between her and the others.
"No!" he snapped. "Move on!"
The young anmaglahk looked at Sgaile as if he had committed some violation. Osha, who had always kept silent behind his elders, startled Wynn with his harsh tone.
"He is bearer of the dead," Osha said in Elvish to the others. "Leshil, descendant of Eillean."
The young anmaglahk before Sgaile blinked twice. He glanced once at Leesil and Magiere, both still poised for a fight.
"I beg forgiveness," he said.
"Attend your duty," Urhkar added flatly.
The four anmaglahk quickly took up the baggage. Not one of them said anything more.
Solid wood of the dock and then sound earth beneath Wynns feet were quite welcome, but Sgaile rushed them all onward. Perhaps he was not so confident of their reception; or he neared the end of his mission and longed for it to be over.
Wynn wanted to study this new place, to poke about the stalls and observe how exchanges were made, but she found herself jogging half the time just to keep up. All around them, elves paused at the sight of Magiere's dark hair and pale skin-and Wynn's own short stature and round olive-toned face. The four anmaglahk with the baggage split into twos, a pair walking at each side of their passage. No one questioned or challenged them for bringing humans into this place.
A way past the shoreside bazaar, Sgaile halted before an enormous elm. He pulled aside the door hanging and motioned them inside. Only Wynn, Magiere, Leesil, and Chap entered, and Sgaile remained in the doorway.
"Be comfortable," he said. "You are safe and my caste will make certain of it. But do not leave this dwelling without Osha or another I designate. I will send food and drink as quickly as possible."
Leesil stepped toward him, and his mouth was taut in anger. Before he uttered a word, Sgaile cut him off.
"Soon," he said, and his expression seemed troubled. "You will speak to Most Aged Father soon. But heed me, Leshil. Do not leave this dwelling until I come for you."
He released the curtain and was gone.
Magiere put her hand on Leesil's shoulder, then began pulling the chest off his back.
Wynn believed that Sgaile would keep his word, though Leesil's impatience was mounting. No words of comfort from her would do any good, so she looked about their new quarters.
The elm's interior was one room, though larger than the family space in Gleann's home. Soft cushions were stacked to one side along with a rolled-up felt carpet of cerulean blue. The floor was bare earth instead of moss. There were ledges growing from the tree walls for beds or seats with cream blankets of downy wool folded upon each. A wide curtain of gray-green, like the clothes of the Anmaglahk, hung from a mounted oak rod across the room's back. Wynn pulled it aside and found a small stone tub akin to Gleann's.
"Our guest house has been well prepared," she said.
Leesil's amber eyes flashed as he turned on her. "It's a cell."
By early evening, Leesil paced the tree's interior, berating himself for his stupidity.
Magiere and Wynn were captives, and he had no one to blame but himself. A wooden tray piled with fruit and a water pitcher had been brought, but he didn't touch any of it. There was also a glass lantern, prelit, that sent an aroma of pine needles through their cell. Some of their baggage had been delivered-but not their weapons.
To make matters worse, Magiere watched him with that same silent tension on her face that she'd worn throughout their time in Venjetz. She sat vigil on him, waiting to see if he would lose himself again.
Chap was the only one who could walk out if he wished. No elf so far had interfered with the comings and goings of the majay-. But the dog just lay on the floor with his head on his paws.
Though Leesil seethed over their situation, it was mostly frustration. At least one of his companions might suggest something helpful. Were they any closer at all to finding Nein'a?
"What do you think happens next?" Magiere asked.
She sat on a wall shelf with one leg pulled up, and Leesil's frustration faded.
Magiere was just worried about him-about them all. She looked paler than usual, and the sleeves of her dark-yellow elven shirt were lightly marred from the journey. With her head tipped forward, black hair hung around her cheeks. He reached down and hooked her hand with two of his fingers.
"I don't know," he answered honestly. "Whatever comes, it'll depend on what this leader of theirs wants... this Most Aged Father. He put Sgaile through a great deal to bring us here, so I'd assume this meeting won't wait long."
"He wants something from you," Magiere whispered.
Leesil saw the vicious narrowing of her eyes and wondered if her irises flickered to black for an instant.