“The one standing right in front of you,” she whispered.
The fingers of her right hand snaked about his left wrist. Druid magic flooded through him, and he was paralyzed instantly. There was no apparent effort on her part, no indication that she was doing anything other than continuing to advise him. She used her body to block what was happening, still talking while the magic she had surreptitiously summoned flooded through him, working on him as she had intended, rendering him immobile but doing something much more insidious, as well.
“You are not much of a King, Phaedon, that you would risk your people’s lives on a whim,” she whispered calmly, her fingers like iron about his wrist. “Not much of a King that you would ignore help when it was offered. Not much of a man even, if you would let your pride and your fears dictate a course of action that would bring disaster to your entire Race.”
His eyes were locked on hers, frozen in place like the rest of him. He could not manage even the smallest sound to summon help, caught up in the trap she had set for him. She kept talking as she waited for the magic to settle in and claim him completely, still pretending she was explaining something to him, engaged in a private conversation that no one else could hear.
When she felt him start to shake, she released his hands, waited a moment until she was sure he was infected, and then backed quickly away, looking over her shoulder at the Home Guards, a look of shock and concern mirrored on her face.
“Something’s wrong!” she called out to them. “He’s having a fit!”
Indeed, the Elven King was frothing at the mouth, weird sounds coming from somewhere deep inside him—not words exactly, but grunts and gasps and other indecipherable noises. His guards rushed to him, Sian Aresh with them, taking hold of him as he thrashed and convulsed.
Then, abruptly, he went limp, collapsing into unconsciousness in their arms. Aresh caught Seersha’s eye; she met his gaze without revealing anything.
“Take the King to his sleeping chambers,” the Captain of the Home Guard ordered, “and send for Healers to keep watch on him. Have them do what they can.” He glanced at Seersha again, and this time she nodded slightly. “Don’t leave him alone,” he added.
The King was carried from the room, still unconscious but breathing and alive. Aresh waited until they were gone and he and Seersha were alone before beckoning for her to follow.
As they passed out into the hallway and moved toward the front doors of the palace, he whispered, “You did that to him, didn’t you?”
She nodded. “Druids have a strict policy of not interfering in the affairs of the Races unless threatened. I deemed this a threat. Phaedon is dangerous, and he cannot be allowed to interfere with what we need to do. He will be incapacitated for a day or so. Longer, if I come back to him a second time, which I may very well decide to do if it is needed. But those two days will allow the Elven army time to move out of Arborlon and prepare to defend the valley.” She looked over at him as they walked. “You have to do this, you know. You have to be the one.”
“He removed me as Captain of the Home Guard,” Sian Aresh pointed out. “Remember?”
“He was a man in the first stages of a fit that has laid him out like a baby,” she answered. “Anyway, he said your position would be terminated after the meeting was over. That never really happened. You’re still the leader your men will look to. You are the one they will follow.”
“And you will stand with us?”
“As I promised. Until there’s no longer anywhere for me to stand.”
They went out the palace doors into the sunshine. “We don’t have much of a chance, do we?” he said.
“Any chance is better than none.”
“What we need is a miracle.”
“What we need,” she replied softly, “is for Aphen and Arling Elessedil to find the Bloodfire and come back to us.”
Twenty-three