The Elven Druid shook her head. “Mistress, please. I don’t want to tell you that.”

“If you don’t, I will send Oriantha home at once,” Khyber declared. She glanced over at the girl, who hadn’t said a single word, but simply sat there, listening. “Oriantha, have you nothing to say?”

The girl’s strong features tightened with resolve. “I came because I wanted to be with my mother. It was necessary for me to come.”

“Did you know it was a clear violation of our rules?”

“My mother needed me.”

“Is that what she told you? That she needed you? Did you come because you were asked or because you chose on your own to come?”

“Mistress,” Pleysia broke in. “Let her be. She came because of something I said.” She hesitated. “Because I told her I am dying.”

It stopped Khyber where she was. Oriantha, this strong young woman who seemed chiseled from stone, had begun crying. Pleysia wrapped her arms around her and whispered in her ear.

“Dying?” the Ard Rhys said softly.

“I found out months ago. A healer told me. I am diseased within and there is no cure, not even with healing magic. I thought to be dead and gone before you woke from the Druid Sleep. I believed I could bring Oriantha to the Keep and, because I was dying, the other Druids would keep her until you woke. Then you might agree to accept her into the order. But then the diary was found, and I ran out of time.”

She looked stricken, as if speaking the words gave power to the thing killing her. That she might be lying never entered Khyber’s mind; the truth was mirrored in the faces of mother and daughter.

Pleysia released Oriantha and faced the Ard Rhys. “I know this is a dangerous journey. I understood what that meant. I went to her and I told her I was dying and there was a good chance I would not be coming back from this expedition. I asked her to wait for me, but she insisted she was coming with me. She said it was probably our last chance to be together. She did not want to give that up. She is a more gifted magic user than I am, and she was quick to remind me of it. If she could not go, neither could I, she argued. So I agreed to bring her with me.”

Khyber sighed. Pleysia should have told her Oriantha was her daughter, but she understood why the Elven woman had kept it secret, fearful that her request to include Oriantha would be denied and the girl sent home. Knowing she was dying, she would be desperate to keep her daughter with her. Khyber questioned the wisdom of including her when she would be placed at such risk, but maybe Oriantha was more capable and experienced than her age would suggest.