“She entrusted the Druid order to me and those who had survived the war with me. She abdicated her position as Ard Rhys and went away with Penderrin, and no one ever saw her again.” Khyber Elessedil glanced over. “Did your grandfather ever tell you what became of her?”
Redden shook his head. “Only that she went somewhere far away to live out the rest of her life. Too many still saw her as the Ilse Witch, and she could never escape what that meant. She’d had enough of Druids—and magic, as well. She didn’t want to be part of that anymore. My father told me this when I was little. Railing and I. But he never said anything about where she had gone or what she had done afterward.”
He paused. “I remember asking my grandmother once. I always thought she knew something that she didn’t want to talk about. But I asked her anyway. I was young, persistent, and didn’t know anything about boundaries when it came to asking personal questions. I pushed her for an answer. She broke down in tears and wouldn’t talk to me afterward for almost two weeks.” He smiled sadly. “I never asked about it again.”
“It was a long time ago,” the Ard Rhys said. “A lifetime ago. It doesn’t matter anymore.”
Redden nodded. “I still think about it. I still wonder where she went. I wonder if she was happy then.”
“She was solitary and aloof when she was alive, always conscious of how she was seen by others. I don’t know that she was ever happy.”
She moved away from him, leaving him with his thoughts.
Midday passed; the air thickened and the heat grew intense. Water was running dangerously low, and food was being rationed. They had never had much of either to begin with, carrying only enough for personal use when they’d passed through the waterfall. Soon, they would have to begin foraging. Tesla Dart seemed uninterested in the problem, leaving them to their midday meal as he danced off into the distance, looking this way and that, always active and eager, always moving. Redden watched him in fascination. How could anyone have so much energy?
When they set out again after eating, the Ulk Bog beckoned for Redden to walk ahead with him, making a series of quick, demanding gestures that the boy felt compelled to obey. Reluctantly, he moved up to where the other was waiting.
“You are family to the Ard Rhys, Grianne?” Tesla Dart asked as they walked together.
“She was my great-grandfather’s sister. But I never knew her.”
“She died?”
He hesitated. “She went away before I was born. I guess she must have died.”
The sharp eyes watched him. “She is friends with my uncle, Weka Dart. He helps her.”
“The Ard Rhys.” Redden indicated Khyber Elessedil. “She told me this. She said he helped save Grianne when she was trapped here.”
“A prisoner of Tael Riverine. Very bad. The Straken Lord wanted her to mate with him. He wanted her child for his own. But she escapes with Weka.”
Redden looked over at him. “I didn’t know that. About her child and the Straken Lord. I only knew she was trapped here and your uncle helped her get out again.”
Tesla Dart laughed. “Think of it! A child with the Straken Lord! Who would want that? I would not want that. My child will be Ulk Bog–sired.”
The boy stared for a moment, realizing suddenly he had made a big mistake about Tesla Dart. She was a woman. Or maybe just a girl. But female, not male.
“You would like a child someday?” he asked, trying to be certain of what he was thinking.
“I will have many children. My family will be large. Ulk Bogs, like me and Weka. But I will need a mate, and he is not yet come to me.”
“Um,” Redden mumbled, not sure what to say.
“We can be friends, you and me. Families are the same. Weka helped Straken Queen, and now I will help you! It is for us as for it was for them. Friends!”
“Friends,” he repeated.