Terry Brooks - Witch Wraith

So he did. Quickly and efficiently. He told her how he and Redden had accepted Khyber Elessedil’s request that they come with her to the Westland in search of the missing Elfstones of Faerie, of how their efforts had gone so badly awry and how Redden had become a prisoner of the Straken Lord and was trapped inside the Forbidding. He told her how Tael Riverine had demanded that Grianne be brought to him so she could become his Queen and bear his children. Finally, he revealed that the Ellcrys was failing and the wall of the Forbidding was coming down. The Straken Lord intended to bring his demon hordes into the Four Lands and take what he wanted, Grianne included, if she did not come back to him on her own. All of this had persuaded him to seek her out and ask if she would return to help them in their struggle—if she might not be able to show them a way that Tael Riverine could be destroyed. He had discovered her fate in the diary written by Khyber and had followed it here.

“I thought you might return with me because Redden is your blood descendant and you loved Penderrin and would want to help his grandson.” He exhaled sharply. “I came to find you, really, because I didn’t know what else to do to save my brother.”

–Railing, I cannot help you–

The words were tinged with regret, but were no less bitter for being so. Oddly, they were the words he had been expecting to hear all along, but had convinced himself she would not say.

“Is there nothing you can do?” he pressed. “Even if you came back long enough to face him and tell him what you have become, perhaps that would be enough. If he saw what you were, maybe he would no longer have interest in you and be persuaded to abandon …” He trailed off helplessly, aware of how foolish that sounded. “Or maybe you could just persuade him to let Redden go because his imprisonment serves no purpose.”

–The Straken Lord will be persuaded of nothing. He will be enraged. He is not human. He is a demon. He craves power, and when he cannot have me, he will turn his anger on others–

Railing felt the first twinges of desperation. “If you are an aeriad, you are beholden to the tanequil. But Cinnaminson was an aeriad, and you found a way to replace her and set her free. Can’t you do that now for yourself? Can’t you get free of the tanequil, at least long enough to come back with me?”

–I have been an aeriad for a lifetime, not for mere weeks. I am nothing of what I was and cannot impact the world of humans and Elves as once I did. I cannot come back with you–

“But you must!”

He blurted out the words in a paroxysm of frustration and dismay. The air around him went still in the aftermath, and for a second he thought she had left him, unwilling to listen to more.

“What about the Druid order? It is destroyed because of Tael Riverine! Would you let that happen? Would you do nothing to help preserve it?” He paused, waiting for an answer that did not come. “Grianne! Are you there?”

–I cannot help you, Railing. You must leave–

He took a deep steadying breath. He stood at the edge of a cliff, and she was pushing him from behind so that he would fall and all would be lost. He was devastated, but he was angry, too.

“I will go to the tanequil and speak to it! I will insist you be freed from your service and come back with me! My brother’s life is at risk, but so are the lives of everyone in the Four Lands!”

There was a rush of movement as the other aeriads whipped about him—or perhaps it was only Grianne, suddenly become aggressive and swiping at him repeatedly.

–Do not do this–

“What else can I do? Give up? Go back without you? Go back with no way to save my brother?” He gathered himself. “I won’t leave until I am sure there is no other way. Not until I’ve spoken with the tanequil. Will you help me or not? Will you persuade it to speak with me, just for a minute, just to hear what I have to say?

–The tanequil already knows–

“Then take me to it!”

–Beware, Railing Ohmsford–

Her voice was soft, but there was iron behind the silk. For an instant, he was certain he had gone too far.

“Just … let me try,” he said finally.

–You risk more than you realize–

“I would risk everything for my brother!”

–So you do. So you will. Good-bye, Railing–

And she was gone. He could feel her leave-taking. He could sense the emptiness she had left behind and hear the silence that filled it.

“Grianne?” he called out anyway.

Nothing. And then …

–Come–

The voices of the other aeriads, calling him away. Where would they take him now? To the tanequil or back to the bridge? If the latter, he would refuse to cross. If they would not take him to the tree so that he would have a chance to say what was needed, he would not follow them.

He began a lengthy trek through the forest, weaving in and out of the great black trunks, shadows draping his way and shards of sunlight providing fragments of illumination to guide his footsteps. The aeriads sang to him so that he knew where to go, but there was no further communication with Grianne Ohmsford. If she was there with her sisters, she was keeping quiet. If she was monitoring his journey, she was doing so in secret. He hardened his heart against her, still disappointed and angry at her refusal to help, still frightened that he was going to fail in his efforts.

But if he found the tanequil and spoke with it, there was still a chance that something could be salvaged. The aeriads served the tree; if the tree agreed that Grianne should be set free to come back with him, that the Four Lands needed her to stand against the Straken Lord, wouldn’t she have to change her mind and do what Railing asked? Wouldn’t she then be bound to aid him in his efforts?

He held on to that hope like a lifeline, knowing it was all he had left.

It became clear after a short while that he was not being taken back the way he had come. The trees were getting larger and the way darker. The forest canopy was closing out even the little light that had filtered down previously, and the whole of the forest through which he walked was gloom-filled and hazy. The aeriads had stopped singing, but every so often they would speak that single word— come —to let him know where he was to go. The hugeness of the trees diminished him further, and he experienced a withering of hope and confidence. The audacity of his efforts to persuade Grianne resurfaced, and he saw again how foolish he had been.

As he navigated the maze of the forest, the warnings of the King of the Silver River whispered anew from his memory. He was doing something that was forbidden. He was asking for what he could not have. If he persevered, he would not get what he was hoping for; he would get something else entirely. Grianne Ohmsford was lost to his world and belonged to another. He could not bring her back again. He should forget this quest and simply go after Redden on his own. But was that even possible? Was there any way he could go back into the Forbidding and free his brother from the Straken Lord?

His trek wore on, and the gloom deepened. It must be late in the afternoon by now. The stresses of both the morning and the trek caught up to him, and he grew sleepy. The aeriads had resumed singing, and their music was weaving about him in a soothing blanket that left him heavy-eyed and slow-footed. He took a moment to stop, and when the aeriads did not object he sat down to rest.

Just for a moment.

But in seconds he was asleep.

His sleep was deep and dreamless, and when he woke again the sun was lower in the sky. He blinked a few times and waited for his lingering lethargy to disappear, wondering how he had managed to sleep at all with the mix of emotions roiling inside.