After departing the village home of Sora and Aquinel, the Ellcrys seed recovered and their quest for the Bloodfire back under way, the Elessedil sisters and Cymrian reboarded their Sprint. With darkness already well advanced, they flew for a few more hours, then camped for the night on the edge of the Drey Wood. And the following morning, they lifted away for the still-distant country of the Wilderun. They flew south through the remainder of the day past the last of Drey Wood and angled west over the Matted Breaks. Through the drifting clouds, they caught glimpses of the rock towers of the Pykon looming in the distance in solitary splendor. Dark and forbidding, they had seen centuries come and go, cities and governments rise and fall, and changes of all kinds in the world about them, and still they endured.
It was written in the Druid Histories that Amberle Elessedil had come this way centuries ago on a similar search, passing down through Drey Wood, the Matted Breaks, and the Pykon, as well. All who had come with her had been killed protecting her—all but the Valeman Wil Ohmsford. It made her think on Redden and Railing. She wondered if the latter had gone looking for his brother yet. She wondered if his brother was lost to him, as she feared Arling might be lost to her. She wondered, finally, if the twins—or even one of them—might in some way prove to be Arling’s protector as their ancestor had proved to be Amberle’s. She remembered that Allanon’s shade had told Khyber Elessedil at the Hadeshorn that an Ohmsford must come with the Druids on their search for the Elfstones—that having one along would prove essential to their success. But there had been no success, and it made her think that perhaps no Ohmsford would stand as a protector of her sister and that everything would be different this time.
Farther on, they caught sight of the silver thread of the Mermidon winding through foothills north of the Rock Spur and followed the course of the river until it disappeared into the mountains themselves. They flew on after that across the broad, rugged span of the Rock Spur—a sprawling mass of jagged peaks and deep valleys into which the emerging sun barely penetrated. In spite of the morning’s clouds, the midday sun was bright and welcoming as they passed beyond the mountains.
By early evening, they were entering the valley of the Wilderun just east of the town of Grimpen Ward. All three knew of Grimpen Ward’s reputation, and none of them thought it a good idea to spend the night there. On the other hand, continuing on deeper into the Wilderun and attempting to locate the Bloodfire with darkness likely to fall long before they were finished was not an attractive option. So they decided to find a suitable place to camp for the night and then set out again at dawn to complete their search.
They landed in a clearing within the deep forests of the Wilderun, not far from the Rock Spur. The shadows cast by the huge old growth were already darkening the pale light that penetrated the canopy of branches—a clear signal that, when night approached, it would be on them quickly.
“I’m going to use the Elfstones,” Aphenglow announced to the other two, once the three of them had climbed down from the airship. “We need to make certain we are on the right track before we go any farther. But I won’t do it now; I’ll wait until morning.”
Neither Arling nor Cymrian said anything in response. They all understood that use of the magic might draw unwanted attention—a constant risk when the Elfstones were employed. But this place was as remote as any they were likely to find far away from Arishaig and the other major Southland cities. They had to confirm both the exact location of the Bloodfire and the possibility of wards that might interfere with their efforts in reaching it. There had been nothing in the various histories they read that revealed either, but they couldn’t rely on writings alone.
They unloaded gear and supplies for eating and sleeping, and Aphen set about building a fire. Cymrian said he wanted to have a look around to be certain they had chosen a safe enough spot, and then he moved off into the trees.
Arling began unrolling blankets and setting out food and drink. As she carried in wood for a fire, Aphen glanced repeatedly at her sister, wondering what she was thinking. On her third trip, she walked over and sat down next to her.
“How is my brave sister?” she asked.
Arling smiled. “Well enough. Better than I was before we got the Ellcrys seed back.”
“We were lucky the task wasn’t more difficult. Good thing we had the Elfstones to find it for us.”
Arling didn’t respond, but instead busied herself with removing supplies from their containers. She had an unreadable look on her face, as if whatever she was thinking confused her. Aphen waited long minutes before speaking again.
“I wish we could take back everything that’s happening and make it go away,” she said finally.
Her sister nodded. “But we can’t.”
“We can keep trying.”
Arling looked up at her and smiled. “You don’t need to. I know what’s going to happen.”
Aphen felt a surge of panic. “I don’t think you should—”