Her sister reached over and touched her shoulder. “I will go with you. It might help if I am there.”

But Aphenglow shook her head. She couldn’t allow that. Not if she wanted to speak openly to her mother about the connection between the Elessedils and the Omarosians. “I need to do this alone, Arling. It will be enough if you help me with finding a protector.”

Arling grinned. “It’s hard for me to imagine anyone protecting you. It is easier to see it the other way around. Besides, won’t you be leaving again right away?”

“Not necessarily. There are a few other things I must do.”

How much should she tell Arlingfant? Certainly not about the diary or the Omarosians or the missing Elfstones. But what about the request she must make of her grandfather that she be allowed to borrow the blue Elfstones to take them to Paranor and the Druids? Arling would hear about it quickly enough in any case. She would not be able to ask her grandfather privately. He was King before he was her grandfather, and the request she would make must be made both to him and the Elven High Council. Such audiences did not long remain a secret from the general population.

She got to her feet. “I had better go to Mother while I am still feeling brave. Can we meet and talk later, after you have finished your work here?”

Arlingfant quickly agreed, rising with her, giving her another hug, telling her she loved her and wished her well on her meeting with their mother. Aphenglow hugged her back and turned away.

It took her only a few minutes to walk from the Gardens of Life to their mother’s home—her own home once, but that seemed so long ago. When she was close enough to see it through the trees, she stopped in the shadows and watched it for a time, gathering her thoughts and her courage. Standing outside the house like this, waiting to speak with her mother, made her feel like a little girl again. It reminded her of how she had felt when she had done something wrong and been forced to confess it—ashamed, guilty, regretful, and a bit frightened of the consequences.

Yet she had done nothing wrong here and had no reason to feel any guilt. Nor was she a little girl required to answer to her mother for her life’s choices.

But still.

She walked to the door and knocked softly. No one came at first, but then she could hear a stirring on the other side of the door and sense a presence. Still, nothing happened. She waited patiently, tightening her resolve for what she must do.