“If we split up, we might have a better chance of avoiding them,” Cymrian pressed.

“If we split up, we reduce our strength.” Bombax shook his head. “Then we risk being cut apart piecemeal. Besides, how will we ever find one another again once we’re outside?”

“If we get out, we still have to cross through the forest on foot to reach the Dragon’s Teeth,” Krolling added. “We’ll be hunted down by Federation flits.”

“Not if we’re careful enough to—” began Cymrian.

“But maybe the Federation will be too busy worrying about what’s coming after them in the—” interrupted Bombax.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Aphenglow exclaimed impatiently, cutting through the jumble of voices and silencing them. “We’ve forgotten something. What about the Druid Histories? Can they be protected?”

“Of course!” Woostra sounded almost indignant. “The Histories are protected by a magic that cannot be breached by anyone who isn’t a Druid. They’ve survived attacks on Paranor before. They’ll survive this one, too.”

“So how do we escape before this happens?” Bombax asked, looking at Aphenglow for an answer.

She pushed herself into a sitting position. “I don’t know. You and Cymrian figure it out. Arling, help me up.”

“But, Aphen—” her sister started to object.

“Help me up!” Aphen snapped.

She had spoken more harshly than she had intended but it was too late to take it back. Arling looked stricken, but moved to help her rise.

“I’m sorry,” Aphen whispered as her sister put her arms around her and lifted.

“It’s all right,” Arling whispered back.

Leaning on her sister, Aphen moved toward the sleeping chamber door. “I won’t be long,” she called back to the others. “Start packing whatever you think we might need to take with us. We leave as soon as I get back—one way or the other.”

She had gone all the way down the length of the hall and was turning up the stairs that led to the cold chamber and scrye waters when she realized she could have had Krolling carry her and been there in half the time. But she didn’t want anyone carrying her, didn’t want to be reminded of her weakness, and liked being close again to Arling, so she let it be.

They climbed two levels of stairs and turned down the passageway that led to the cold room. It was hard going because Aphen was still exhausted from her encounter in the pit, and her leg ached from the hard use to which she had put it. But she pushed ahead wordlessly, letting Arlingfant provide support and encouragement, thinking as she did so how much she loved her. She hated herself for snapping at her sister; even those few words were too many. She would not do that again, she told herself. No matter how angry or upset she got, she would not take it out on Arling.