“But you need Bombax!” Aphenglow was insistent, desperate to change the other’s mind. “I’m not as skilled with magic. If you wait for him, perhaps I will be well enough for you to reconsider your decision to leave me.”

“We have no idea when he’ll return. Even use of the scrye has failed to reveal any trace of his whereabouts. We cannot wait longer for him. Our expedition will leave tomorrow. Someone either knows or suspects what we are about. If they dare to attack you in your own city—in your own home—then there is reason to believe they will come after us. The quicker we act, the more difficult we make it for whoever hunts us.”

“But, Mistress, a few more days …”

“No, Aphen. The matter is settled. I want you here. You are incapacitated through no fault of your own, but incapacitated nevertheless. You lack mobility and strength. If we are threatened or even attacked, you become a liability that risks the lives of others because you cannot defend yourself as you need to. You know this. I regret you have suffered this setback, but disappointment is a part of all our lives.”

Aphenglow fought back her tears. I will not cry! “How will you manage without me to guide you? What will you do when you come to a place you don’t recognize and cannot ask me what I saw in my vision? My notes are thorough, but there is no substitute for having seen firsthand what it is we seek. You cannot know what difficulties you might encounter later. I have to be there!”

“Not if I perform a skiving of those memories so they become my own.” The Ard Rhys paused. “Will you agree to that?”

A skiving. Aphen flinched. An excising of layers of images forming certain memories in one person’s mind and transplanting them into another’s. Few Druids—few magic wielders of any sort—had the skill to accomplish this. Khyber Elessedil was one.

But it was an intrusion into the mind, a trespass into space that was the sole property of the owner. It had never been done to Aphenglow, and she had thought it never would.

“I don’t want anyone in my mind,” she said quietly, firmly. “I cannot endure it.”

Khyber nodded. “I don’t blame you. I would not ask it of you if there were a reasonable alternative. I promise not even to glance at anything but the Elfstone vision. A quick excision and then I am gone. If you experience pain or fear, I give you leave to banish me.”

“I don’t know.”

The Ard Rhys reached over and took Aphenglow’s hands in her own. “Yes, you do. You know.”

Aphenglow nodded. She did know. She was a Druid first and always, and she would do what her Ard Rhys asked of her because that was the commitment she had given.