The young woman nodded, but said nothing. In fact, she hadn’t said ten words since being introduced. She seemed pleasant enough, if odd looking. There was nothing Elven about her; if anything her strong features were almost feral. Her face lacked softness of any kind, and her lithe young body was hard and lean and layered with muscle. There was nothing special about her otherwise, nothing to suggest what it was she could do to help them. When asked why she had been chosen, she had deferred to Pleysia, who had refused to say. They would find out when it was time, the latter had advised obstinately, but not before.

Khyber Elessedil glanced from one woman to the other. “It might be a good idea if we talked now about what Oriantha can do for this expedition, Pleysia. I don’t mind if we keep it among the three of us, but I think I have to insist that you tell me. I’ve trusted you this far, but I don’t want to be caught by surprise later.”

She waited. Pleysia glanced at her companion and shook her head. “It must wait awhile longer, Mistress.”

The Ard Rhys felt a rush of irritation, but she kept her expression neutral. “How much longer, Pleysia?”

“We sail for the Westland to find the Ohmsford twins. Isn’t that so? A journey of not more than two days?”

Khyber nodded. “That is so.”

“I ask your forbearance until then. When we reach our destination, I will tell you why Oriantha is so important to this expedition. You have my word on it.”

Khyber thought about asking why two more days made any difference, but then thought better of it. By asking, she would be opening herself up to another argument. Better to just let things alone.

She smiled. “Very well. We’ll wait. Please remember your promise.”

She rose and walked away, vaguely dissatisfied.

Aphenglow watched the Walker Boh depart from the window of her bedchamber, still propped up by pillows, her splinted leg stretched out in front of her. She did not witness the liftoff and the long, slow swing west, but could see the airship through her window as it flew away from the castle and disappeared into the horizon. It took a long time to disappear completely, and by the time it did she was in tears.

She was alone for the moment. Arling was exploring the Keep with Cymrian in the company of Krolling, the Troll who had been given command of the guard contingent left to watch over the Keep. She sat thinking for a time, pondering this and that, letting her mind skip from one subject to the next, trying not to direct her thoughts but letting them wander where they chose.

“I hate this!” she whispered finally, her anger breaking through.