Most Aged Father drifted within the barrier woods, as if the very walls of his own home had been altered while he had slumbered. His panic mounted.
Footsteps approached in the outer forest. He slipped away, burrowing inward toward Cuirin'nen'a's clearing.
The farther north they ran, the more desperate Sgaile became.
He had never seen the prison glade of Cuirin'nen'a, though most longstanding anmaglahk knew its location. A select few chosen only by Frethfare went regularly to check upon Cuirin'nen'a's needs. At the inception of her internment, some expressed concern for her well-being in isolation. Most Aged Father assured them that he would be aware of her needs-or if and when more was required for her. Frethfare held firm to limiting contact, and none but those she chose ever went to Cuirin'nen'a.
At the start of this pursuit, Sgaile did not believe Wynn and Chap could reach her before they were caught. The majay-h might, but not with a small woman slowing them down. Then he had seen their tracks halt, and Wynn's boot prints vanished amid the hoof marks of a sentinel deer.
That a human rode a clhuassas clhuassas, like some servant animal, was sickening. The sun had risen, and Sgaile knew the prison glade was not far off.
Someone called out from behind him.
Brot'an'duive was the first to halt and turn. As if summoned by Sgaile's heated thoughts, Frethfare came at a run up the path behind them.
Haggard and panting, she stopped near en'nish and her two comrades. Frethfare's face dripped with sweat that matted her hair against her forehead.
"Turn back... by word... of Most Aged..." she gasped out, hands braced on her knees. "Do not go farther!"
Sgaile tensed in confusion. "I have oath of guardianship to fulfill, and the retrieval of a human wandering our land."
"No one goes near the traitor," Frethfare insisted.
This was the second time in Sgaile's life that he was ordered to violate the ways of his people. The first had been when he was sent to kill a half-blood, also marked as a traitor.
None of his people, the an'Croan, would willingly spill the blood of their own. But the Anmaglahk obeyed the direct wishes of Most Aged Father. Only the presence of a majay-h and the half-blood's ignorance of his own people had justified Sgaile's disobedience.
Brot'anduive spoke evenly. "Why would Most Aged Father force this upon Sgailsheilleache's and those he has chosen to share his purpose?"
"What now?" Magiere spoke up.
Through his fatigue and strain, Sgaile had forgotten that neither Leshil nor Magiere understood Elvish.
"We have been ordered to return," he answered in Belaskian, "by Most Aged Father."
Anger spread on Magiere's sweat-glistened white face. Leshil took two steps down the path toward Frethfare.
"I don't serve your master," he said. "Go back on your own!"
"Wait!" Brot'an'duive snapped, and stepped between them.
"Get out of my way!" Leshil demanded.
Magiere turned from Frethfare, but Sgaile was not sure if her eyes were on Leshil or Brot'an'duive.
"Why am I forced into shame?" Sgaile demanded, keeping to Belaskian in the hope that it might distract his angered charges a little longer. "You trap me between caste and people with no way to serve both."
"Nothing is greater than service to the caste," Frethfare returned. "That is our service to the people. In silence and in shadows... obey!"
en'nish stepped closer to Frethfare, a new eagerness washing over her sharp features.
"No," Brot'an'duive commanded.
en'nish's two companions-and Osha-stood with attention shifting between Brot'an'duive and Frethfare. Like Sgaile, they were at a loss as to who had the greater authority here between Most Aged Father's trusted counselor and a revered master among the Anmaglahk. en'nish's allegiance was clear. Frethfare remained certain of her position, and her words were only formally polite.
"You disagree with our father, Greimasg'ah? You question my place as Covarleasa?"
"Yes," Brot'an'duive answered. "When it is used against our people."
Sgaile did not know what to do when he heard this. Brot'an'duive had not only rejected Frethfare's position, he had denounced it-and that of Most Aged Father. Sgaile found himself in an untenable situation and wanted no part of this.
Frethfare stood to full height. "Careful, Greimasg'ah... you are not so highly honored as to change caste ways at your whim."
"And what purpose do those ways serve?" Brot'an'duive returned. "They serve our people, first and foremost. Guardianship was an old tradition before the first supplicant bent knee before Most Aged Father. Break the ways of our people, and what is left for us to protect?"
Frethfare remained unconvinced, but Brot'an'duive cut off any rebuttal.
"Take this before the elders, if you wish. Even now they gather at Crij-heaiche. It is for them to decide-not you or I-if the people's ways shall be altered. Would not Most Aged Father agree, as first servant to the people?"
True as this was, Sgaile was still reluctant. en'nish closely watched Frethfare's silent frustration, waiting for the Covarleasa to counter Brot'an'duive's words.
Brot'an'duive stepped to the path's side, and his passive gaze fell upon Sgaile. The elder anmaglahk held out a hand to the open trail ahead.
"We follow in service to your purpose."
Sgaile turned his gaze from Brot'an'duive to Frethfare and back again. He did not know which of them had put him in the worst position. He stepped past Leshil, and the others followed, including Frethfare.
Not long after, Sgaile paused again. Paw prints led both ahead and off into the forest on his left. Brot'an'duive studied the split trail. There were signs that the pack had turned into the trees and back again, but why?
"It is your purpose and your choice," Brot'an'duive said to him.
Sgaile took a slow breath. "We move on and leave this deviation for our return."
He headed on in silence, and a short way down the main trail he slowed in caution.
"Is this..." he began in Elvish, for he did not want Leshil to hear.
"Yes," Brot'an'duive answered. "But it has changed."
The forest gathered upon itself in a wild and impenetrable tangle, except for one open passage that cut through the dense barrier.
"Well?" Leshil asked. "Is this it?"
Sgaile did not know how to answer, and Brot'an'duive had gone silent again.
"Fine!" Leshil snapped, and stepped into the path through the woods.
Sgaile followed. In spite of deep concerns over Leshil locating Cuir-in'nen'a, he could not stop this search. They had to find Wynn at any cost and bring her back.
At the end of the long path, he stepped through tall ferns behind Leshil.
A pack of majay-h bustled about a lawn of grass and dark moss surrounding a single domicile elm. There stood Chap between Wynn and a tall elven woman in a shimmering white wrap.
Despair washed through Sgaile as he met the glower of Cuirin'nen'a. Wynn had been found, and his guardianship restored, but Sgaile had failed Most Aged Father once more.
Leesii thrashed through the ferns and halted, rooted to the ground. He stopped breathing. Wynn and Chap stood in the clearing, but he didn't really see them.
He only saw his mother, the perfect lines of her face, her tall and lithe stature, and eyes that could swallow all his awareness. He felt as he had looking down from the mountainside upon the vast elven forest-relieved and overwhelmed all at once. He had struggled and fought-and killed-for this intangible moment.
A flicker of terror passed through his mother's eyes at the sight of him.
In Leesil's youth, she had seldom shown open fear-and never at him.
Magiere came up beside him, but Leesii couldn't take his eyes from Nein'a.
"Mother?"
Someone grabbed his shoulder Leesii knew it wasn't Magiere. Anger rose as he glanced back to find Sgaile restraining him.
Brot'an shook his head. "We are here now, and nothing can be done for it."
Sgaile's mouth tightened, but he stepped back as the others came through the ferns. Freth's narrowing eyes turned on Brot'an.
Leesil moved slowly forward, and Nein'a-Mother-turned her face aside. Perhaps all the years alone made her cringe with sorrow. The thought almost stopped Leesil from going on. He shrugged off the rope harness and brought the chest around into his hands.
One steel-gray majay-h started and then lunged away from the surrounding woods. It spun about to stare into the trees, pacing.
Chap flinched and warily watched the steel-gray dog. The white female beside him hopped in closer to push at Chap with a whine. The other majay-h grew more agitated in their movements.
It was the dogs and not Leesil that made Nein'a lift her face. Fear returned as she watched them. Her expression darkened when she peered among the trees, as if searching out some hidden threat.
Leesil slowed under the growing weight of guilt. Long imprisonment had affected his mother's mind. He kept on, stopping only when close enough to reach her.
Unbidden memories came of long hours training with her, the meals they had shared, and how she checked on him in his room when she thought he was asleep-and of a sad father who had done all this as well with unexplained reluctance.
Leesil wanted to confess his sorrow and guilt for abandoning her, for his father's death... for everything. But the words wouldn't come.
"Mother..." he finally said, "I'm taking you out of here."
Nein'a didn't reach out to put a hand upon his cheek, as she had long ago.
"Leave," she whispered with a slow shake of her head. "Get out of this land... if you still can."
Leesil's voice failed. He had come all this way, risked the lives of Magiere and Wynn and Chap-and her only response was to tell him to go?
Nein'a's large eyes shifted to Brot'an as the man approached. Leesil saw pleading in her gaze, and Brot'an's passive expression softened when he looked upon her. Leesil's stunned outrage was lost in chill anger.
Nein'a briefly spoke to Brot'an in Elvish, but the name "Leshil" was easy to catch. A silent Wynn looked up in dismay at Nein'a; this was enough to tell Leesil that his mother had asked Brot'an to take him away. He couldn't bear any more of this.
Leesil dropped to one knee and flipped open the chest, lifting the cloth bundle from within. He separated the cloth's folds and thrust out the skulls like a spiteful offering.
"I took them from Darmouth," he said sharply. "I went back looking for you and Father."
Nein'a's breath turned shallow as she reached out a hand. The closer it came to the skull of Leesil's father, the more her long, slender fingers shook.
"It is him?"
"Yes," Leesil said. "And your mother... though I was told it was you."
He cast a hateful glance at Brot'an, daring the tall elf to even try to explain. Brot'an offered no reply by word or expression.
"It is Eillean... and Gavril," Leesil said. "I brought them to you... for whatever last rites you see fit."
Nein'a's fingers slid to her mother's skull. Leesil had rarely seen her cry, but tears dropped down her caramel cheeks in silence. They seemed to drag her down into some strange sickness, and guilt flooded through Leesil again for his harsh words.
Nein'a took the cloth with both skulls and cradled them.
"Leave here at once," she whispered. "You cannot stay."
It was a long cold moment before she looked up and saw the others behind Leesil. Low, sharp Elvish erupted from her lips. The words sounded much the same as what she'd said to Brot'an, though this time Leesil caught Sgaile's longer elven name. She wasn't making a request, but a demand.
"You're coming with me," Leesil said. "I'm not leaving without you."
"I cannot," she whispered.
"It is true," Wynn said cautiously. "The path simply returns her, and anyone with her, back to this clearing. Chap and I have tried."
The sage's face and hands were covered in small scratches and scrapes. Leesil should've been angry for all the trouble she and Chap had caused, but then, they had found his mother.
"Enough!" Sgaile commanded. "We return to Crijheaiche. Leshil, come."
"No," he whispered.
He stood within reach of his mother-and she was alive. Her insistence that he go didn't matter. If anyone thought he'd simply walk away, they were dangerously mistaken.
At quick footsteps from behind, Leesil caught the barest cinch of Brot'an's scar-cut eyebrow.
Leesil back-stepped and spun out of reach.
As Sgaile tried to close the distance, Magiere snatched his cloak at the neck. Sgaile swung back with the edge of a flattened hand. It caught Magiere across the throat, and she fell back gagging.
"Stop this," Brot'an shouted. "Both of you cease!"
Osha stiffened at Brot'an's order, but the others didn't listen. As Sgaile turned his determined attention back toward Leesil, Magiere thrashed around on the grass.
Leesil saw her irises flood black.