Wynn scooted closer to the fire and tried to stuff her small hands up her tunic's opposing sleeves. Brot'an appeared to be rearranging his own attire beneath his gray-green cloak. Chap heard clinking metal and wondered what the elf was doing.
He would not trust Brot'an, but his estimation of the man grew less certain. Brot'an served his own agenda, but he had placed himself between Magiere and his caste. He had also managed to keep Leesil under control, without letting their past conflict boil into the open.
Brot'an glanced across the low flames at Wynn and stripped off his heavy cloak. The sleeves of his green tunic were pulled down, but Chap caught no signs of weapons on his wrists. Brot'an stepped around the fire and draped his cloak over the small sage. Wynn jumped slightly.
"Sleep," he told her, and he slid down to sit against the tree behind the sage.
"Thank you," Wynn said, formally polite. "I left Chane's... my cloak back in Crijheaiche. Will you not be cold?"
"Sleep," he repeated.
Wynn lay back and, after a moment, closed her eyes.
Chap dropped his head to his paws, still watching Brot'an.
He should rest with Wynn and keep her warm. This day had been no better for her than the others. In some ways, far worse. The Fay knew of her gift-or curse-of sensing when they manifested nearby.
A soft blur of white appeared near the edge of a far cedar. Lily poked her head around and whined.
Chap stifled his eagerness to go to her, not wanting to leave Wynn and Magiere alone and subject to so many threats. When he turned from Lily with a sigh, he found Brot'an watching him, and wrinkled his jowls at the man.
"Go," Brot'an said.
Leesil kept watch from an open space between the trees. Magiere lay with her head upon his thigh, her eyes closed. Still, Chap would not leave.
He glanced at the group of Anmaglahk gathered at another fire off through the forest. They huddled about the flames as Frethfare stood over them, but he could not hear their voices clearly.
"Enough!" Sgaile said too loudly and stood up.
Chap heard no more, though it appeared Sgaile defended whatever Frethfare had said to all there. en'nish turned away where she sat, and the conversation ended.
Lily came up beside Chap, surprising him with a lick on his ear. He didn't look at her but kept his eyes on the gathering of enemies.
"No one will disturb your companions," Brot'an said.
The words broke Chap's concentration as he tried to catch any memories in the minds of the Anmaglahk. He rumbled softly.
He did not care for so many having discovered how truly aware he was. First Sgaile-and now Brot'an spoke to him in full sentences, as if knowing he understood.
"We should all take what time is left to be with our own kind," Brot'an added.
The tall elf leaned his head back against the tree and stared into the fire's small dancing flames.
Chap got up slowly as Lily headed off. He shivered, but not from cold.
Though he was uncertain why, his thoughts slipped back to the phantasm he had suffered in the forests of Droevinka-Magiere's homeland. He had seen her, mad and feral, standing in the dark at the head of an army. Among the twisted creatures of the living walked those of the undead. He shook the memory off-it was a lie induced by sorcery.
Chap loped after Lily until she paused and circled around in a mulch-filled hollow between three close fir trees.
Her fur was warm and soft against him. He pressed into her as they turned about each other. There was relief in her gentle presence. For a little while, he was not so alone. He had kin of flesh, kin of living spirit, if not those who had betrayed him and taken his memories. And when he finally lay quiet beside her, it was with memory and not words that they spoke in whispers.
Chapter Fifteen.
L eesil sat quietly with Magiere's head upon his leg. He expected rain to come, but the sky never broke open, so he saw no need to disturb Magiere and move to better cover. eesil sat quietly with Magiere's head upon his leg. He expected rain to come, but the sky never broke open, so he saw no need to disturb Magiere and move to better cover.
Past what he guessed was noon beneath the dark clouds, Osha approached Brot'an. The young elf's gaze drifted to Wynn sleeping soundly in Brot'an's cloak.
"It is time," Brot'an called to Leesil.
At the sound of his voice, Magiere's eyes opened. She hadn't slept either and only rested.
Leesil's leg had gone numb beneath her head. He struggled to his feet, pulling Magiere up as his leg tingled with returning feeling. When Brot'an went to gather the others, Leesil left Magiere with Wynn and snuck off toward the barrier woods. Halfway there, he heard steps behind him, and turned to see Sgaile following.
"I won't be long," he said. "Unless you're fool enough to try to stop me."
"Then I will go as well," Sgaile answered. "Or you will not go at all."
Leesil was too weary to argue. He had no idea how soon another chance might come to see his mother. So he turned toward the passage through the woods with Sgaile close on his heels.
They emerged in the clearing, and Nein'a was outside her tree waiting. Leesil glanced back at Sgaile.
"Go," the man said with a sigh. "I will wait here."
Leesil had thought long on his mother while Magiere rested in his lap. Eight years in this glade, seeming so easy to leave and yet not, would drive anyone to odd ways. If he'd been thinking more clearly at their earlier meeting, he might have realized this. Stepping close before her and looking up into her calm yet disquieted face, he couldn't think of much to say besides the obvious.
"I can't free you by staying here. I'm going back to Crijheaiche to find a way to make your people listen." He lowered his voice. "Then you are leaving with me and Magiere."
She reached out and gripped his wrist. The action held no affection, and he almost pulled away.
"Forget me and leave this forest," she whispered, and then her tone grew soft, more like the lyrical voice he remembered from youth. "Please... my son."
All of Leesil's resentment melted in his mother's sudden warmth.
"You may trust Sgailsheilleache's guardianship," she whispered. "But in all other things, trust only Brot'an'duive."
He jerked free of her grasp. "I will be back... and you should trust only me."
"Leshil," Sgaile called, sounding strained. "Come."
Leesil turned away from his mother.
By midafternoon, Wynn worried about keeping the pace Sgaile set. She still wore Brot'an's hopelessly oversized cloak over her baggy elven clothing, and the combined raiment was heavy and cumbersome. But she was still too cold to remove the cloak.
The few times she took her eyes from the others around her, the forest shifted in unsettling ways. With the sun hidden behind thick clouds, all the world was caught within a lingering dusk. Her spirits low, she struggled to keep up-but not only because she was exhausted and worried.
She felt cut off and alone.
Leesil and Magiere were silent except for brief glances and touches they exchanged. Wynn thought she saw Leesil smile briefly, just once, at Magiere.
Chap ranged in and out of their procession, sometimes coming back to Wynn's side. Not once did he speak into her head, and after only a short distance, he ran off into the trees once again. Even Osha rarely looked at her or Magiere. Brot'an was considerate in his actions but otherwise as distant as the rest of the Anmaglahk.
Wynn had no one to turn to for a soft word or a look of comfort, and thoughts of Chap and her encounter with his kin returned often. This forest proved a terrible place that fed her loneliness.
Sgaile's demeanor worried her most. He had changed since witnessing Magiere's savage side. Wynn always found him daunting-occasionally frightening-but she had been certain he would protect her or Leesil or Magiere. Now his amber eyes were glazed, and any concern he showed was mechanical. Twice, he seemed about to speak to her, but then looked away.
He also appeared determined to rush them back to Crijheaiche as quickly as possible.
Somewhere behind Wynn, a strange chirp floated through the forest. She tried to slow and listen, but the procession's pace was too quick. She was left to wonder if it was the same kind of bird she had heard on their first journey in Crijheaiche.
Wynn had had enough of silence. All right, so she had brought much of this on herself. Or rather Chap had gotten her into it by running off without telling anyone. But compared to the encounter with the Fay, she should feel lucky to be alive.
She quick-stepped up behind Osha, trying to think of something to ask. Something useful-or not. Anything to break the silence for just one breath. She tugged on his cloak as she stumbled over the hem of her own.
Osha glanced over his shoulder with a frown.
"What is... Greimasg'ah Greimasg'ah?" she asked quietly. "A grasp-something? I heard the others use it to refer to Brot'an, and once for Urhkar. Some title or rank?"
Timid Osha looked ahead at Sgaile yet again. But Sgaile pressed on behind Brot'an's lead and did not appear to hear.
"Oh for goodness' sake, Osha!" Wynn snapped in a harsh whisper. "I am not trying to get some great secret out of you!"
Sgaile glanced back once.
"Shadow-grip... gripper... keeper..." Osha said with difficulty, as the word seemed troublesome for his limited Belaskian. "Masters beyond our caste ways, beyond what our teachers know and teach us. Many say Greimas-g'ah grip shadows, pull them in to... to hide them. No one see them until they want. It is great honor if Greimasg'ah accepts you for... to teach you. I am not lucky for this."
When Wynn looked ahead at Brot'an's back, she caught Magiere listening to Osha's words.
"There were... once five," Osha added. "Now are four... when we lose Leshil's great-mother."
For an instant, Wynn thought he meant Nein'a. "You mean 'grandmother'... Eillean?"
Osha nodded and went silent. Wynn was back to struggling to keep up.
"Halt for rest," Brot'an called.
Wynn expected Sgaile might argue, but he crouched by an evergreen, poised for the moment they resumed. She was grateful for any reason to pause and braced a hand on a silver birch to steady herself.
A shadow crossed Wynn, and she looked up.
Sgaile stood close enough that she could have counted the white hairs of his feathery eyebrows. His handsome face was lined with tension.
"All that happened this last day and night," he said quietly in Elvish, "was because you did not heed my words. You remain under my protection, but disobey again and I will do whatever is necessary to assure your safety... no matter that you will dislike my methods. Do you understand?"
Wynn bit back her retort.
If his kind had not imprisoned Nein'a, Leesil would never have needed to come here in the first place. She and Chap would not have had to break Most Aged Father's attempt at coercion. But Sgaile's tone was so serious.
"Yes," she answered stiffly.
He headed back to his resting place, and Wynn turned and found Leesil standing right behind her.
"What was that?" he asked.
"Nothing," she answered. "Just... nothing."
Leesil grabbed her hand and pulled her along toward where Magiere crouched. "You stay near us. And let's see if we can't tie up that cloak."
Wynn gripped down on Leesil's fingers, feeling a little less alone.
Forest scents intoxicated Chap, and still he returned often to look in on Magiere and Leesil and Wynn. The majay-h shadowed the procession from out in the trees as they all headed toward Crijheaiche. But Chap believed the pack only made the journey because Lily stayed with him.
The dogs fell behind to sniff, and even to hunt. More than once, one of them chased down the silver yearling who had wandered off. Some ran ahead, but in the end, they always ended up back near the Anmaglahk and Chap's companions.
He pressed his nose against Lily and drew in her warm scent. But as they returned again to the procession, he caught brief words in Leesil's memory, spoken in Magiere's hushed voice.
Marry me.
Chap paused, ears cocked.
And Leesil now dwelled in embarrassment upon his fumbled response.
How strange and surprising that it had happened in this place, in these dangerous times. But when Chap dipped Magiere's thoughts for her memory of that moment, his wonderment vanished.
He saw through her eyes the dead bark upon the tree she had touched. He heard the name spoken in her mind as she had blacked out.
Sorhkafare.
It was not familiar to Chap at first, until he saw tangled pieces of what Magiere experienced the moment she fell prone.
He knew the encampment, and remembered that long-ago night in an ancient elf's fearful memories. The two became one.
Sorhkafare... Aoishenis-Ahare... Most Aged Father.
Magiere had touched a tree. She had seen a vision she did not understand-one of Most Aged Father's oldest memories.
Chap looked wildly about the forest, wary of every quiver of leaf.
Nein'a had looked about the clearing in the same way, easing only when the majay-h appeared peaceful and settled in their surroundings. And Lily had tried desperately to keep Chap from going into Most Aged Father's home.
Somehow the withered old elf, impossibly long in his years, had been in Nein'a's glade. He had been in the tree Magiere had touched. It was the only thing Chap could reason.
Magiere had touched a tree... and eaten a piece of its life without knowing it. Chap remembered his delusional vision of her at the head of an army upon the edge of a dying forest.