Barb Hendee: Rebel Fay

"I… accept your exchange," Most Aged Father croaked, his eyes stark with madness. "But this changes nothing. The loyal Anmaglahk will continue to serve our people."

"Is Cuirin'nen'a released?"

Most Aged Father finally closed his eyes and placed his withered fingers against the walls of his bower for a long moment.

"She is released, so go to her, if you wish. But send Sgailsheilleache and Frethfare to me at once."

Brot'an'duive turned away, his heart pounding.

They both knew the half-truth of all this. For now, it served Brot'an'duive's own ends and left him time to plan. Whether first he betrayed-or was betrayed-had yet to be seen.

But he was no traitor to his caste. He protected their future, for he still believed in the old one's fear of an enemy yet to show itself. He would do what he must to keep the Anmaglahk whole and sound.Until they were needed no more, when it all finally ended on the stroke of the blade in Leshil's… in Leshiarelaohk's hand.

"In silence and in shadows," Brot'an'duive whispered as he left.

Magiere tried to keep Leesil calm, but he kept pacing the elm's chamber, and she finally set to cleaning her falchion. It wasn't necessary, but handling the blade kept her from snapping, between the tension of lingering and the vibrant shivers within her.

Wynn sat on the floor, writing with her quill.

"What are you recording now?" Magiere asked.

"The end of the gathering.My guild will find it of interest in comparison to elven culture elsewhere."

"I'm glad I could offer them some diversion," Magiere sniped.

"Magiere, that is not what I-"

"Sorry… forget it."

In Magiere's mind, she kept pondering the silf's sudden appearance, and the idea that it or one of itskind had saved them from the blizzard. Why had it chosen to appear only before the council? How long had it been following her?

The chained translation of its belief that she was somehow of its blood still haunted her. She hoped it didn't know how she'd come by such mistaken heritage.

The doorway curtain folded aside, and Brot'an stepped in. He did not look tired, but he was panting lightly.

Leesil rushed at him. "What happened?"

"Your mother is free," Brot'an answered without warning. "But she does not know it herself, so we must go to her now. I will explain the delay of your departure later and arrange for another barge."

Magiere was dumbstruck, like Leesil, but Chap lunged to his feet.

"Brot'an…" Wynn began, with confusion in her eyes."How?"

Magiere wondered the same thing, but she slammed her falchion back into its sheath as Leesil snatched up his blades and strapped them on.

"I don't care how," he said.

Chap barked once in agreement and was out the door faster than the rest of them could follow.

In the root chamber beneath the vast oak, Frethfare scarcely believed what Most Aged Father told her.

"Released?" she repeated.

Sgailsheilleache stood silent beside her, his expression unreadable. She knew him better than he realized. Recent events had left him in turmoil. Today had been the worst in her life, defeat after defeat in humiliation.

"Yes, daughter," Most Aged Father said. "Cuirin'nen'a's time is served, and she is released."

"Why?"

Anger crept into his voice. "Do you question me?"

"No, Father," she answered quickly. "I only…"

Something was wrong. Brot'an'duive had demanded a private audience, and now a traitor was released among the people.

"Will that be all, Father?" Sgailsheilleache asked. "Do you require anything?"

Frethfare wondered at his calm acceptance, as if it were all part of a normal day. Sgailsheilleache rarely questioned anything, unless faced with the unforeseen. And this was certainly unforeseen.

Most Aged Father squinted at Sgailsheilleache, and his milky eyes grew soft."No, my son. Do not be troubled further. Go and rest. We all need rest.

Clearly, Most Aged Father placed no blame upon Sgailsheilleache for this day's outcome. And why should he? The blame lay with Brot'an'duive, and sooner or later, Frethfare would find the proof of it. A Greimasg'ah had betrayed his caste, and this could not be left unattended.

Sgailsheilleache turned and left, but Frethfare could not bring herself to go just yet.

"Father, pardon me, but what does this mean?Should I go to inform Cuirin'nen'a?"

He shook his ancient head. "Most likely, Brot'an'duive will go tonight and take Leshil with him."

The chamber seemed to grow dim around her as she tried to reason through Most Aged Father's words. Nothing made sense.

"Go now, daughter," he said.

She climbed the steps out of the earth, lost in her tumbling thoughts, and then ran outside, not stopping until she reached the elm where Leshil and his humans were kept. Before she reached the doorway, she knew the elm was empty. Still, she peered inside.

All were gone… gone to free Cuirin'nen'a.

Frethfare stood in uncertainty. Why had Most Aged Father called her in tonight to tell her this? He was exhausted, and if there was nothing for her to do, then why notleave the news until morning? Why such urgency followed by so little explanation?

She stared off through the trees as her turmoil mounted.

Father had tried to tell… to ask her something without putting it into words. For some reason, he could not give the order himself.

Her stomach churned at the thought of Leshil, his traitorous mother, and those humans escaping. Not after they had found a way into this land. Not after all the discord they had sown among her caste. And not after what they had done to Most Aged Father.

She had been at his side for long years… long decades.Whatever the reason that he could not ask her outright, she knew what he expected of her.

Frethfare ran toward the river and the docks.In the full of night, the trees blurred by. She fled to the sixth birch upstream and fell to her knees by its doorway, pulling back the cloth hanging.

En’nish sat alone inside on the floor. The cup of tea before her must have sat a long while, for it no longer steamed. She stared blankly ahead, and then turned her sharp face toward the doorway.

"Frethfare?" she said, taken back. "Are you well? What is wrong?"

"We go north immediately. Brot'an'duive takes Leshil and the humans to free Cuirin'nen'a. They must be stopped." She hesitated before adding, "This is the wish of Most Aged Father."

En’nish cinched her cloak's trailing corners across her waist, and then her sudden eagerness wavered.

"I do not understand, Covarleasa," she began, respectfully. "If the Greimasg'ah is with them, why are we sent behind him?"

"Brot'an'duive is a traitor. You heard and saw him today."

En’nish still hesitated.

Frethfare was not certain how to deal with Brot'an'duive, but she understood what must be done this night. A traitor escaped punishment, and humans would leave knowing the way for others to return to her people's land.

"We will not spill the blood… of our own," she said, firm and slow.

She let the words hang.

Longing hardened En’nish’s eyes as she understood Frethfare's meaning.

No, they would not spill the blood of their own, but the outsiders must be dealt with.

En’nish blinked slowly with a deep exhale, as if finally releasing long-harbored pain. She followed Frethfare out like one who finally saw the salve for her wounds within reach.

Chane struggled through the heavy snow. Wind pelted his face with large flakes that clung to his hair and cloak. He could only see a few paces ahead and followed the mute shapes of Welsteil and their one remaining horse.

"We must find shelter," Chane rasped. "We cannot locate the passage until this blizzard has passed."

"No," Welstiel answered. "We keep looking. It cannot be far."