Once again, Pia thought back to the events in May. It had taken Dragos and her several hours to make the journey back to New York, but part of that time had been spent traveling out of an Other land.
If Dragos chose to travel south this morning, there was no guarantee how he would make the journey. If he took the corporate jet, he could hit the Charleston International Airport as soon as two hours from the point of departure. And who knows when he might decide to take off? The only thing she felt confident about was that he would wait as long as possible in case she had simply been very late to bed. Now that morning was officially here, it was possible he was already airborne.
“Go as fast as you can,” Pia said to Hugh. Telepathically, she added, If you don’t get through to Dragos right away, call Graydon or Bayne. She paused. Dammit, there was no way for them to know which sentinel might be fighting when, or if they might be recovering from an injury. Actually, try all the sentinels until you talk to a live person, but don’t just rely on them to pass on a message. Keep trying yourself to get through to Dragos and call to him telepathically as well. He has a much larger telepathic range than anyone else.
All right, Hugh said, frowning. But since I’ve never talked with him telepathically before, I don’t know if I’ll be able to connect.
Exasperated, Pia said, Look, Dragos might already be in South Carolina by the time you get out of the Wood, so just try everything you can to get in touch with him, and don’t stop until you get through and actually talk to him yourself. If you tell him I’m okay, maybe we don’t have to have anything turn into a disaster, all right?
Right, Hugh said.
Eva walked out with Hugh and the Elf. Several minutes later Eva returned alone, and she asked, “Now what?”
Pia had gone to the window to stare out. The early morning was shrouded in a thick veil of fog. She could barely see the water down below. The only details that she could see when she looked toward the horizon were black tree branches that appeared in the dull white fog like dismembered limbs. She shuddered at the thought.
“Now we figure out how to get some breakfast, and I’ll send a request to speak with Calondir,” Pia said. “Maybe either Ferion or Linwe will show us around like Beluviel suggested. And we wait.”
And as for herself, she would be crossing her fingers that the day did not end badly.
? ? ?
Breakfast turned out to be a simple and social affair. The same Elf from earlier returned to ask if Pia would like food to be brought up to her apartment, or if she would prefer to come down to the main hall. After washing and dressing in a clean pair of jeans and sweater, Pia was more than ready to leave their rooms.
The main hall was quite large with several tables, a high ceiling, more flagstone floors, two fireplaces at either end that were so massive a grown man could walk into the ash pits, and walls that were mostly windows and that provided more views of the river and the forest. The trees and rocky forest floor were dark with moisture and occasional patches of startling green moss, and tendrils of fog drifted along the foaming water at the foot of the falls.
One of the hallways must lead to the kitchens, for a couple of servers moved back and forth from that direction, carrying full trays of breads, fruits and meat to sideboards that were set against one wall. People ate and talked in clusters, sometimes in English but quite often in their lyrical tongue. Most of those in the hall were Elves, but a smattering of other races were also present: a couple of dwarves, three humans with sparks of Power that identified them as witches, and an elderly male medusa whose head snakes trailed a few inches along the floor.
The atmosphere was relaxed and cordial. Pia and her group served themselves and sat at one end of a long table to eat, nodding and smiling at folks as they returned morning greetings. Calondir, Beluviel and Ferion were all absent, and Pia didn’t think any of the Elves in the hall were from Numenlaur.
For one thing, it looked like people knew each other with the ease of long acquaintance. Also, most of them were dressed in a mix of Elvish and modern American clothing, an unlikely combination for someone from an enclave society. Leggings and sneakers seemed to be a popular combination. A few wore leggings, tall boots, tunics and jeans jackets.
Folks looking street chic, Eva remarked in her head. Lookee there. That homeboy got a hoodie.
I have not forgiven you for yesterday, Pia said. Just so we’re clear.
That okay, princess. I surviving juuust fine.
Pia’s gaze slid sideways to Eva, whose wide black gaze remained innocent. She compressed her lips. Clearly Eva needed no encouragement, but she might actually get worse if Pia smiled or laughed.