THE FOLLOWING MORNING APHEUGLOW WOKE BEFORE sunrise and slipped out of her sleeping chamber on cat’s paws, pondering anew Woostra’s discovery that Aleia Omarosian was one of the Chosen. She went down the empty, silent corridors to the Druid’s Keep and took a seat just outside Woostra’s offices in the Druid Library. She was waiting for him to appear at the start of his workday, intending to question him further about what that odd listing meant, when a shadow passed across her face and caused her to look up.

The Ard Rhys stood before her, clothes rumpled and dusty, graying hair disheveled, face drawn and haggard, brow wrinkled.

She stood at once. “I didn’t know you were back, Mistress.”

Khyber Elessedil nodded. “I just returned. I’ve spoken to no one yet. I came to find Woostra, but here you are, instead. Tell me. Has he found anything in my absence? Have you?”

Aphenglow considered equivocating, but decided it was unwise to do so with the Ard Rhys. “Woostra did. I promised to say nothing until he reported his finding to you, but I will tell you anyway. The Druid records say that Aleia Omarosian was a Chosen.”

Khyber Elessedil nodded calmly and took a seat beside her. “Is there anything else recorded? Anything regarding the circumstances of her choosing or of her service?”

Aphenglow shook her head. “No, nothing.” She paused, considering the other’s reaction. “You knew this already, didn’t you? You’re not surprised at all.”

“I knew. The spirits of the dead told me. But what does it mean, Aphen? How could she be a Chosen in service to the Ellcrys and make no mention of it in her writings?”

“I’ve thought of that. I think there is only one explanation. She did not become a Chosen until after she stopped making entries in her diary. Until after the Elfstones were stolen by the Darkling boy. The time of her choosing didn’t happen until later.” Aphen shrugged. “Nothing else makes sense.”

“Do you think it was because of what happened with the Darkling boy and his theft of the Elfstones?” the Ard Rhys asked.

“I think so, although I don’t understand the connection. But I would like to try to find out. Mistress, I want to go back to Arborlon and look again through the Chosen histories. I wasn’t searching for anything about the Chosen before, only for mentions of Elven magic. The Chosen keep records that are different from the Elven histories. There might be something there that would help us understand.”

The Ard Rhys shook her head. “I don’t like sending you back just now. Not after two attempts have been made on your life already. It might be better to send Pleysia, instead.”