Terry Brooks - Witch Wraith

She went off to prepare for the girl’s awakening—if she had calculated her dosages right, it would be about an hour from now—knowing that her approach must change. But first she would feed Cinla her favorite treats.

Arlingfant didn’t know how long she slept after the nameless woman who was caring for her had left, but when she woke again the woman was sitting on the bed beside her. “There you are,” she said. She smiled, but there was no warmth in the expression. “Tell me your name.”

“Arlingfant Elessedil,” Arling replied at once, even though she hadn’t intended to.

“And your sister’s name?”

“Aphenglow Elessedil.”

“And your protector’s name? The Elven Hunter who accompanied you on your journey?”

“Cymrian.”

She couldn’t seem to help herself. Whatever the woman wanted to know she was willing to tell her. No, it was more than that. She needed to tell her. She was compelled to answer, and answer truthfully. She was horrified. Why was she doing this?

“It’s the drink I gave you,” the woman said, noticing her change of expression. “It puts you to sleep, and when you wake you find yourself unable to do anything but speak the truth. It’s a combination of drugs and magic I concocted some time ago. Rather useful.”

She leaned forward, the smile gone. “So we can dispense with games and get on with being truthful with each other. You know who I am, don’t you? You must have suspected, and now there can be no doubt. Say my name.”

“Edinja Orle.”

“There, that wasn’t so hard. Now all the introductions and identities are out in the open. Are you thirsty?”

“Yes,” Arling replied, cringing. She said it because it was the truth, but she didn’t want any more of what Edinja had already given her.

The sorceress rose, walked back to the table, and poured a fresh cup of water. She glanced over her shoulder at Arling. “This isn’t what you drank earlier. This is pure. Untreated. You’ve had enough of the other to serve my purposes. Do you still want it?”

“Yes.”

Arling took the water and drank it down, suddenly desperate to cool her throat. She hated what was happening, what this woman was doing to her, but she couldn’t make herself stop responding.

Edinja sat down again on the side of the bed. “Now tell me what was in your pack that you don’t have with you anymore.”

Arling fought to keep from giving the answer. “I don’t have a pack.”

“Yes, I know. You lost it or left it behind or whatever. What was in it?”

“Nothing.”

Edinja was momentarily confused, but only momentarily. “Never mind the pack. What were you carrying that matters so much to you?”

Now Arling had no choice. The words came unbidden. “A seed from the Ellcrys tree.”

Edinja stared. “How did you come by such a seed? Why would you have something like that in your possession?”

“The seed was given to me by the tree.”

“For what purpose?” Suspicion reflected in Edinja’s eyes now. “Why would the tree give you its seed?”

Arling hiccuped when she tried to change the answer she was compelled to give. She was suddenly having trouble completing her sentences, the result, she assumed, of her efforts not to say anything. “The Forbidding is failing and the demons imprisoned … are breaking free. The Ellcrys … must be renewed by the magic of the Bloodfire. I have been chosen … to make this happen.”

A long silence followed. Edinja looked away and then back again. “How did this happen?”

Arling didn’t know what to say, the words catching in her throat. Edina reached out and slapped her hard across the face. Arling jerked away. “The tree is dying! She must … renew.”

The sorceress rose and stalked about the room for a time, stopping once to pull back the curtains and peer out the window. “What happens if the seed does not reach this Bloodfire you speak about? What happens if the tree dies?”

Arling had lowered her head in shock from the slap, her eyes filled with tears. “Then the creatures of Faerie … imprisoned there … come back out into the Four Lands.”

“They would kill us all if that happened, wouldn’t they?” Edinja murmured, mostly to herself. “Can the Druids stop this from happening?”

“No.”

“Only this seed you carry can stop it?

“Yes.”

“Except you’re not carrying the seed anymore, are you? Where is it?”

Arling shook her head. “I don’t know. I had it … before the crash. Now it’s gone. I thought … you took it.”

Edinja turned away. “Someone took it. That much is true.” She walked away again, then turned around slowly. “Let’s consider your sister’s situation. If she’s alive, what will she do once she finds you missing?”

Arling squeezed her eyes shut as she gave her answer. “She will come looking … for me.”

“Exactly what I thought. She will come looking for you. A smart young woman with Druid skills and magic. She will figure out where you are and come to Arishaig to rescue you. From me.” She laughed. “Won’t that be convenient?”

Arling lurched up on one elbow, fighting to hold on to the words she wanted to speak. “Don’t hurt … her. Don’t.”

Edinja walked over and pushed her back down again. “You should be worried about yourself instead of your sister. You should be worried about what might happen to you.”

“If anything happens … to me, the Ellcrys … dies.”

Edinja made a dismissive gesture but said nothing. Arling swallowed hard. “Doesn’t the captain … or any of those … who brought me here know what happened … to the seed? Or to my sister?”

“Perhaps.” The sorceress pursed her lips as if considering. “They said nothing of it to me, but they might be hiding something. Frightened men often do that. Should we go and find out? At least you could be doing something useful while we wait for your sister to appear. I think you can handle doing this much to help move things along, don’t you?”

She hauled Arling out of bed by sheer force, bundled her into a robe, and put slippers on her feet. She was strong for someone so slight and managed the task easily. With her arms locked about the girl, she guided her from the room and down the hallway to where a panel in the wall concealed a massive iron door that opened into the interior of the building. A stone stairway spiraled downward into darkness and disappeared into a pool of impenetrable gloom.

Edinja gave Arling a friendly squeeze, as if they were close friends off on an adventure. “I don’t think you’re ready to attempt such a dangerous descent without help, let alone make the long climb up again after we’re done. I’ll have you carried.”

She reached into a niche beside the doorway and produced a small bell. Holding it out over the stairwell, she rang it three times. Then she returned the bell to the niche. Together the sorceress and the girl stood waiting.

A flaring of torchlight within the darkness accompanied a slow tromping of footfalls.

When the creature appeared, Arling very nearly bolted. It was vaguely human, but mostly something less—a huge semi-human with blunted features and listless movements. It climbed into view with slow, measured steps, as if repeating from clouded memory a process it had gone through many times but did not entirely understand. It did not glance up at them or seem to look anywhere at all. It carried its torch held out before it, but stared straight ahead as if light were unnecessary. There was an emptiness to its gaze that was frightening.

Edinja said something to the creature in a language that Arling had never heard. Then, after passing the torch to the sorceress, it abruptly picked up Arling without even looking at her. Cradling her in its huge arms, it began to descend the stairs once more. Arling, too frightened to struggle, let herself be borne into the depths of the building.