Witch Wraith

It was all she could do to keep her hands steady on the Sprint’s controls. A part of her thought simply to turn the ship around and fly another way—even as she knew this could never happen. Even aware of how impossible such a thing was.

She was suddenly awash in despair. The unfairness of what was happening was inescapable. She had gone through so much, endured so many losses and disappointments, seen so many companions die, and found so many bitter truths along the way that she could not face her situation with anything resembling grace. She should be stronger; she should be so for herself and her sister both. But all she wanted to do was to scream out the rage and hurt she was feeling.

Which was selfish, and she knew it. But even knowing she should be thinking of Arling was not enough to leaven the pity she felt for herself.

Farther ahead, visible now through the darkness, the new day was beginning to brighten the eastern sky. Were they in time? Was the old tree gone by now and the Forbidding collapsed completely? She knew that the demonkind army would be on the move again; Arishaig would have fallen and its citizens would have been destroyed or driven out. Some would survive, but many would not. That was the fate that awaited Arborlon and the Elves, too, and she had no way of knowing how much time remained before it found them.

All too soon, she thought.

Bile rose in her throat, and she forced it down. She banked the Sprint toward the treetops and in the general direction of the Gardens of Life. Her hands moved mechanically even as her brain shut down and fresh tears filled her eyes.

“Little girl,” she called over her shoulder to Arling. She felt her sister lift her head. “We’re almost there.”

At first, there was no response. Then, clear and steady, came Arling’s voice. “I’m ready, Aphen.”

The words broke Aphenglow’s heart, but she managed to keep it from showing. “Do you have the seed ready?”

In truth, she had not seen it since Arling had emerged from the cavern that contained the Bloodfire. She still didn’t have the faintest idea what was to be done with the seed once they were on the ground and in the presence of the Ellcrys. There had been no explanation in any of the tomes she had studied or recitations she had uncovered. Arling had not said one word about what she knew. She had barely referred to her most precious possession. There was a black hole in Aphen’s understanding of what was to happen next, and she felt a wrenching need to know.

“What will you do when we land?” she asked her sister.

A long silence. “Go to her.”

The tree. “You will give her the seed?” Aphen pressed.

“In a manner of speaking.”

“But you do have it? You brought it out from the cavern, didn’t you? You can pass the seed on?”

“Aphen,” Arling whispered, leaning forward again, her lips close to her sister’s ear. “There will be no passing. The Ellcrys seed is inside me. The Bloodfire put it there. It is a part of me now.”

Aphen squeezed her eyes shut, knowing at once what that meant. Tears leaked from her eyes, but she managed to cry silently, keeping her body still. “I will be there with you all the way,” she whispered back.

Arling’s voice grew softer still. “I would like that.”

They descended into Arborlon, Aphen reading the terrain, seeking their destination. She found the gardens easily enough—a part of the Carolan Heights, far west at the edge of the city overlooking the Rill Song. She chose a place where the bluff was grassy and open and landed the Sprint on its billowing softness, using wind and sails to ease her into place before cutting power to the parse tubes and locking down the thrusters.

Elven Hunters placed on sentry duty swarmed the craft, but when they saw the sisters emerge, clinging to each other as if a strong wind might blow them apart, they didn’t seem to know what to do. They stared at the Elessedil women and at one another as they waited to discover what was happening.

“Stand away, please,” Aphen demanded, determined to care for Arling by herself. “Go back to your watch.”

She helped Arling cross the Carolan to the Gardens of Life, pointing them toward a gap in the bordering hedgerow that sheltered against the strong west winds. Once inside, they made their way through the flower beds and bushes to where the Ellcrys stood on a rise near the gardens’ center. The gardens were shadowed, the new day coming awake with the sunrise, and Aphen let Arling set her own pace. Her sister was unsteady on her feet; the unexpected strength she had found after emerging from the Bloodfire cavern had faded.

At one point, she stumbled and nearly fell. Aphen only just managed to catch her. “You will stay close to me, won’t you?” Arling asked, lifting her face momentarily, her strange red eyes blinking rapidly.

“All the way,” Aphen whispered back, repeating her earlier promise. “Do you need to rest?”