“It is possible to help both, Phaedon,” she replied quickly. “It is not necessary that I choose.”

“But history has taught us otherwise,” Phaedon pressed. “The Druids have deceived us time and again. They used us and then took from us. We have expended lives in our efforts to serve them, and they have done little for us in return. Consider the outcome of the war on the Prekkendorran and the onslaught of the Federation heathens. Our King was killed along with his sons. Our Elven Hunters were all but obliterated. The magic wielded by the Druids did almost nothing to help us. Your own Ard Rhys abandoned her people, stole the Elfstones, and went off with her uncle to resolve a private concern. If not for a considerable amount of luck, we might have lost everything.”

Aphenglow shook her head. “I don’t agree. I think the Druids were the ones who saved us all. If not for the leadership of the Ard Rhys—if not for Khyber Elessedil borrowing, not stealing, the Elfstones—the efforts of the Federation to overrun and occupy our homeland might well have succeeded.”

“But if Grianne Ohmsford hadn’t so foolishly allowed herself to be duped by those serving in her own order and gotten herself imprisoned inside the Forbidding, the threat from the Federation would never have materialized. Why am I even arguing the matter? This is all a waste of time. Why should we do anything you ask? You are no different than Khyber Elessedil; you have betrayed us by making the Druids your new family. And now you crawl back because you need our magic? Why shouldn’t we tell you to use your own instead of asking to use ours? Isn’t it apparent that you are no longer one of us? You have disappointed your grandfather and your mother. You have turned your back on all of us. Go back to where you came from!”

The ensuing uproar drowned out her retort. The members of the High Council were on their feet instantly, some yelling in support, some in denigration. Even Ellich was shouting at Phaedon, who calmly ignored him, keeping his eyes on Aphenglow. Only the King sat quietly, looking down at his hands.

“Enough!” he said finally, raising his hands in a gesture for order. The room slowly quieted, and the members of the Council took their seats. “We are in session,” he continued. “We will act accordingly. Personal attacks are of no help.”

“Duly noted.” Phaedon gave a dismissive wave. “What magic is it you seek, Aphenglow?” he demanded. “Does it have a name?”

“Yes, what is it you hope to find?” another member of the High Council echoed.

“Enlighten us,” Phaedon pressed. “If you really need the use of the blue Elfstones in this mysterious business of yours, then surely you have no objection to telling us what it is you seek. Surely we have a right to know what is so important.”