–My decision to choose you as the bearer of my seed was not arrived at in days or months or even years. It took a long time to find you. Generations of Chosen came and went. Death comes gradually if not hastened by chance or misfortune, and so it has been to me. I have seen its approach for a long time and only of late have felt its touch. The Forbidding I ward has been eroding incrementally. At first, it did not matter; the erosion was slight. But with the passage of time, the danger has grown more immediate. My search, therefore, needs resolving–
–So when I ask you what I should do if I cannot find another, it is not because another does not exist. It is because I lack the time I need to find that other. My predecessor faced this same dilemma when she chose me. The erosion of the Forbidding accelerates. The risk of the imprisoned breaking free from their world and invading this one is upon us–
The Ellcrys fell silent again, but Arling could not find the words to respond. She felt trapped and overmatched by this ancient creature, and she lacked the means to do anything about it. She slumped back on her heels and kept her head lowered against the fear that would undo her completely.
Finally, the tree whispered once more in a soft, soothing voice.
–Enough talk for tonight, child. I have sat where you are sitting and argued as you have argued and struggled to decide as you are struggling. I know how difficult this is for you. Go to your home and sleep. Come again tomorrow night, and we will speak further–
Arling shook her head. “I don’t know if I can make myself come back.”
The leaves of the tree shivered in a soft gust of wind, rustling like tiny creatures.
–You will do what you know is right. You will come to me. If you fail to appear, I will know I was wrong to choose you–
Then the Ellcrys went silent, and although Arling sat where she was for a very long time, the tree did not speak to her again.
5
In the hostile and blasted country of the Forbidding, the survivors of the search party for the missing Elfstones stared at the Ard Rhys in disbelief.
“What did you say?” Carrick was the first to break the silence, his stance aggressive. He glared at the Ard Rhys. “Tell me I misheard you.”
Khyber faced him squarely. She was not in the least intimidated, Redden thought as he stood off to one side, watching the confrontation unfold.
“We are inside the Forbidding,” she answered. “Just as Grianne Ohmsford was a hundred years ago. Trapped.”
Carrick shook his head. “That isn’t possible.”
“I’m afraid it is. The shimmer of light we passed through was a breach in the wall that had been deliberately altered to suggest it was something other than what it really is. Even my magic failed to detect it. As did your own, Carrick.”
“But you can’t be sure of this! How do you know?”
“The look of the land. The creatures that attacked us on our way in—things not of our world but very much of this one. Giant insects, Goblins. The dragon that attacked us and then took away Oriantha and Crace Coram—when there aren’t any Drachas left in the Four Lands. The way the opening was there one minute and gone the next. There’s no mistaking what we saw. Anyone who knows the history of the Four Lands and its Races would know the truth of it. We are inside the Forbidding.”
There was a stunned silence.
Then Pleysia, still on her knees, began to laugh hysterically. “How much worse can this get? We’ve lost half our number. A dragon has carried away my daughter and the Dwarf. We found our way in and can’t find our way out.” Her laughter died away into sobs. “All of us are caught out on the wrong side of a door we can’t even find, let along open! Caught among creatures that will tear us to bits once they discover we’re here. It’s madness!”
Carrick whipped around to say something, and then stopped short. “Your daughter? That odd girl is your daughter? Why didn’t you tell us?”
Pleysia hauled herself to her feet, her eyes dark as they fixed on him. “Would it have made any difference to you? What do you care about me and mine, anyway?”