Witch Wraith

But she was a Druid first and always, and a warrior to boot—a planner and a tactician. She would not give him the chance to do what he would like. She would find a way to turn his rage and obstinacy against him.

The hours were long and the tension high as she steered a course safely beyond the demonkind while keeping a sharp eye out for Elven craft, as well. But she reached the Valley of Rhenn by midafternoon and sailed through the shadow of its cliff-walled gap, giving a wave to the sentries—a sign of friendship that she hoped would be enough to keep them from trying to stop or engage her. Her hopes were realized when no aircraft moved to intercept her and no challenge was issued to stop her passing.

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.”