“No!” She shrieked the word. Her face transformed into something terrifying, and she came halfway down the steps, her posture suddenly menacing. “You will not speak to my boys! Not ever! Do you hear me, witch? Not ever!”

“Then you must let me speak to you. Let me explain what has brought me and then you can decide how necessary this visit is.”

Sarys was incensed, her hands clenched, her face contorted in fury. “Get out of here!”

“If I don’t speak with you, I will have to speak with your sons.”

“If you say one word to them—just one word—I will see you dead!”

Sarys’s voice was low and quiet and hard. There was no mistaking her commitment to carrying out her threat if she were forced to do so. But Khyber had been threatened before, and she knew when threats were real and when they were simply born of desperation.

She came forward until she was standing at the bottom of the veranda stairs within arm’s reach of Sarys Ohmsford. “I came to you out of respect. I could have avoided you entirely and gone straight to Redden and Railing. You wouldn’t have known if I had. I could still do so. And I will, if you continue to refuse me. No, Sarys.” She held up one hand in warning as the other started to speak. “No more threats. Threats are beneath you. You are better than that. Stop arguing with me and listen to what I have to say or you will force me to do exactly what I have been trying to avoid. You will force me to go behind your back.”

Sarys stood her ground. “You don’t scare me, Khyber.”

“Good. Then neither of us holds an advantage over the other. Let’s go inside and sit down and talk. Please.”

There was a long moment of indecision before the other woman finally nodded, turned around reluctantly, and led the way up the porch steps into the house. She took Khyber into the kitchen and without a word set about making them both tea. When she had completed the task, she brought the cups to the table at which Khyber was sitting and joined her.

“This changes nothing,” she said pointedly.

Khyber nodded. It did, of course, but there was no reason to say so. “Are you well?” she asked instead.

Sarys smiled faintly. “Say what you’ve come to say. Don’t waste my time. I want you gone as quickly as possible.”

“Then listen well, Sarys.” Khyber put down her tea. “The existence of a very powerful magic, an ancient Elven magic, has been discovered quite by chance. As yet, only the Druids know about it. But that may change. It is important that we find and secure it before certain others do—others less dedicated to protecting the Four Lands.”

“By that, you mean the Federation, of course,” Sarys sneered.