She tried not to think about the leeches feeding on her blood, and allowed the dark and heaviness to help her sink into sleep.

She was awakened sometime during the night by voices raised in anger, dreams of white feathers falling like snow and a silver key shining on her palm slipping away from waking memory. It took her a moment to remember where she was. All was not dark for moonstone and firelight glowed through the canvas of her tent. Silhouetted shadows slashed across the tent wall with curt gestures.

“We have seen enough!” It was Grant, and he was the loudest. “There is no reason to go any farther.”

“You may return as you like.” Graelalea, her voice cool. “We are certainly not forcing you to continue on with us.”

Grant laughed. It sounded half-hysterical. “You say that even knowing we’d never find our way back on our own and that we would be much less safe without you.”

“You have been given the option,” Graelalea replied. “I can give you no more than that for we must proceed with our journey. We are not turning back. Not yet.”

“So you’d just abandon us?” Grant demanded.

Graelalea must have deemed the question unworthy of answer because she provided none. One of the silhouettes began to drift away.

“What is it, then, that you’re after?” This from Ard. “What in the hells is so important that you must keep going on? What are we really here for? What do you seek?”

Graelalea’s silhouette paused, the dance of flame enlarging and diminishing her shadow by turns. “You are here because your king wished it. I know little of his motives, but you are here by his choice. I, and my tiendan, we are here because our crown prince wishes it.”

“That is not much of an answer,” Ard grumbled. “Why does your crown prince want you here? I think after what we’ve been through, you owe it to us to tell us what people are dying for.”

At first Graelalea did not respond and Karigan thought perhaps she would not because she chose not to, but much to Karigan’s surprise, she said, “We have come back for those who were left behind.”

“Those who were . . .” Ard sputtered.

Karigan imagined her Sacoridian companions looking as stunned and curious as she felt.

“Who?” Lynx asked in his low rumbling voice. “Who was left behind?”

Karigan felt the tension, the suspense, right through the canvas walls around her.

“Our Sleepers,” Graelalea said.

“Your tree people?” Ard blurted.

“There is a chance,” Graelalea replied in a calm voice, “that if the grove at Castle Argenthyne still stands, we may be able to awaken the Sleepers and rescue them; bring them back to Eletia.”

“And if this grove is gone like the one in Telavalieth?”

“We believe it had more of a chance of surviving than the others. There are . . . were powers at work at the castle.”

“You fools,” Grant said. “You see what this forest is, what it does. The answer is before you. Look what happened to Porter with those hummingbirds. Monstrous things killed one of your own, too, that Hana. That’s what the forest does to anything that lives here. And as for your castle and its powers ? Look what happened to Yates’ magic. It turned on him.”

“You do not understand.” A new voice had entered the fray: Ealdaen.

“Don’t I?” Karigan imagined spittle flying from Grant’s mouth, like a rabid dog ready to attack. “But of course, you are the ancient, wise ones, aren’t you, lording it over us like we’re worms. I’m telling you that it’s time to turn back. Whatever your castle was, it’s rubble now. And your Sleepers? Their grove probably rotted to the earth long ago.”

Silence reigned when Grant’s outburst ended. Silhouettes dispersed until there was only the one she identified as Grant.

“What?” he shouted. “Can’t handle the truth?”

Ard murmured to him.

“Leave me alone,” Grant said. “If they can’t face me, what’re they gonna do when they reach their precious grove and find it gone?”

Karigan sighed. Grant’s tone had sounded irrational to her, but he’d made some good points. At least they finally knew exactly what the Eletians wanted in Blackveil: to rescue their people who had been peacefully Sleeping at the time of Mornhavon’s invasion.

She could not help but agree with Grant that the wisest course was to retreat from the forest, but nothing, she knew, would sway the Eletians from their task. She only hoped they were prepared for the worst when they reached Castle Argenthyne, whatever the worst might entail.

LYNX’S COUP

Karigan did not reawaken until sometime in the gray of morning when she perceived someone in the tent with her. She opened crusty eyes to discover Graelalea kneeling beside her and peering beneath the blanket at her leg.

“The leeches appear sated,” Graelalea said. “They have detached from your leg.”

The leeches! Karigan had forgotten about them, and thought it just fine she had. She rotated her foot and shifted her leg, grimacing as pain burned through her flesh.

Graelalea gazed sideways at her. “How does it feel?”

“Very sore.”

The Eletian nodded. “I am not surprised. I shall spread some evaleoren on your wounds and that should ease some of the pain. I’d make a poultice, but Hana carried our herbs.” Anything Hana had carried was gone with her. Graelalea produced a pot of the salve and spread it gently on Karigan’s leg. Immediately it calmed the pain. “Only time will tell if the work of the leeches proves efficacious. I fear, however, we haven’t the time to allow you the rest you require.”