Shadea glanced disdainfully at Traunt Rowan and Pyson Wence.Hear that? Her eyes challenged them to say otherwise. «How did he get into the Forbidding? No one can go there without magic. Was it the staff he carried out of Stridegate that let him do so?»
The girl nodded again and swallowed thickly.
« How did he find this staff?» She was furious at the idea of it, enraged that such a talisman even existed. «How did he know what it would do?» She reached down and yanked the girl’s chin off her chest, pinching her jaws. «Speak to me, you little fool!»
The dark eyes opened, filled with hate. «The King of the Silver River told him.»
Shadea stared at her wordlessly, then let her head drop down again. A Faerie creature was aiding the boy. No wonder he had found a way. She refused to look at her Druid allies, afraid of what she would see in their eyes after hearing that.
She snatched a handful of the girl’s close–cropped hair and pulled her head back up again. «Why this boy?» she demanded. «Why him? Why not his father? His father is Bek Ohmsford, brother to Grianne. He is the one with real magic. What does this boy have that brought the King of the Silver River to him?»
The girl shook her head slowly. «1 don’t know. Something different. Something …»
« If he succeeds, if he finds Grianne Ohmsford, what happens then? How does he get back?»
« The staff.»
« The staff? The staff what? What does it do?» She shook the girl until she could hear her bones crack. «What does the staff do, little Elven girl? How does it work?»
The girl shuddered. «Brings … them back … together. To the place … they went in.»
She sagged heavily, and Shadea realized she had fainted. Too much pain, apparently. She wasn’t as strong as she had tried to make herself appear. She looked frail, and she was. A poor ally to the boy. But then they were all poor allies, those who had sought to help him, the living and the dead. He had wasted himself relying on them. Whatever chance he had, it did not lie with the likes of this girl and Tagwen and Kermadec and his Rock Trolls.
She flung the girl to the floor and let her lie. Her mind raced. It didn’t matter if the boy had crossed over into the Forbidding. It didn’t matter if he had found a temporary ally in a spirit creature. What mattered was that his chances of surviving inside the Forbidding were much less than those of Grianne Ohmsford, and hers were poor. What mattered was that if he somehow gotout of the Forbidding, she must reduce those chances to zero.
She exhaled sharply, her focus on what was needed sharp and clear. She understood the situation perfectly. If Grianne Ohmsford and the boy must return the same way they went in, then they must come back through the very chamber in which she now stood. That gave her a distinct advantage, and she intended to make use of it.
She turned toward her allies. If either had been startled by what they had heard, they had managed to recover their composure.
Pyson Wence wore his sly, cautious look. Traunt Rowan was steady–eyed and stone–faced against whatever she had to offer.
She surprised them. «What’s done is done,” she said quietly. «It was as much my fault as it was yours. I am the one who leads, I am the one who must bear responsibility for any failure. I should have taken better precautions before going south to Arishaig. I regret that, but there is nothing to be gained by dwelling on it. Let us consider instead what we must do to compensate.»
She moved over to the window and beckoned for them to join her. They did so with a certain degree of hesitation. Neither was convinced that she had undergone a real change of heart.
« The boy is inside the Forbidding searching for his aunt. He might find her, if both can manage to stay alive long enough. He might even manage to bring her back again, through the wall of the Forbidding, using whatever magic it is that this staff gives him. I don’t think it is likely or even possible, but I don’t want to chance being wrong.»
She spoke in a whisper, so that they were forced to bend close. She spoke as if she were in fear of being overheard. In truth, she simply wanted them to think she was taking them into her confidence. Which, in a way, she was. She just wasn’t doing so for the reasons they thought.
« We know that the staff’s magic will bring them to these chambers. We must be waiting for them if that happens. More to the point, we must find a way to make certain that they will be rendered helpless. Even if we are not here, personally, to intercept them, we must make certain that it doesn’t matter, that they are caged and stripped of their power and made prisoners. They must be given no chance to use their magic—especially Grianne Ohmsford. They must be disarmed.»
« You make this sound so easy, Shadea,” Pyson Wence sneered. «As if disarming a Druid of Grianne Ohmsford’s power were easily within our means. But it isn’t, is it? Catching her off guard and vulnerable was our best chance. She won’t be caught napping a second time. She will come back through that doorway like a whirlwind and we will all be swept away!»
Shadea gave him a pitying smile. «Such dramatics, Pyson. You would think she frightened you. Are you frightened of her?»
« We both have a healthy respect for what she will likely do to us if she gets the chance,” Traunt Rowan answered for him. «As should you.»
She gave him a quick shake of her head. «I don’t respect anyone who misuses power as she has. I don’t respect anyone with her history. She is an animal, and I will see her caged or put down.»
« Brave words, Shadea.» He looked less than convinced. «How do you intend to give them weight?»
She shrugged. «We’ll create a triagenel,” she said.
For the first time that afternoon, she saw agreement reflected in their eyes.
« First,” she declared, when they had finished discussing how the triagenel would be achieved, «we have to dispose of the girl. She’s told us what we want to know about the boy. She has no further use. Sooner or later, someone will come looking for her, and I don’t want them to find her here.»
Pyson Wence shrugged. «What do you want done with her?»
« Have your Gnome Hunters take her down to the furnaces and throw her in.» She glanced at the girl, who still lay unconscious on the floor. «She won’t be much trouble, but bind her anyway. Here, take these and throw them in, as well.»
She handed the pouch with the Elfstones to Traunt Rowan. He stared at them in disbelief. «But, Shadea—”
« They’re useless to us,” she interrupted quickly. «Only Elves can make use of their magic. We’re not Elves. If we can’t make use of them, let’s see to it that no one else can, either. Besides, they are markers. If anyone finds them on us or at Paranor, they will have found a link to the girl. We don’t want that. No, throw them into the furnace and be done with it. Come back here when it is finished, and we will begin building the triagenel.»
When they were gone, taking the girl and the Elfstones with them, she slipped from the room and went down through the corridors and stairwells of the Keep to a small guardroom that sat near the back of the north wall. Atriagenel is strong enough to hold even Grianne Ohmsford, she was thinking as she moved along the passageways. Traunt Rowan and Pyson Wence recognized this and so were willing to offer their talents to form it. Three magics from three separate sources, combined in the right way, created a net that would contain and neutralize even the most powerful magic wielder. It took time and effort to build a triagenel, but she had never heard of anyone who was able to overcome one once caught in it. Stringing it about the perimeters of the room would assure them of snaring anyone who entered. There was no escaping a triagenel, once caught in it. Only its creators could undo it. Grianne Ohmsford and the boy would be snared like rabbits—or more like wolves—but snared nevertheless. By the time the triagenel was released, their lives would be over.
She considered the possibility that the triagenel would disintegrate before they were ready to attempt their return. It enjoyed only a limited lifetime, only a finite period of existence because the magic was so powerful that eventually it became unstable and collapsed. But another could be built. And another after that, should the need arise. At some point, it would be clear that her victims weren’t coming back after all, and the effort to create further triagenels could be abandoned.
She was satisfied that her plan would work. She was confident that she could undo the damage that her inept allies had created.
She reached a heavy wooden door at the end of a darkened passageway set in the recesses of the
