furtherance of peace and cooperation among the Races. Certainly, they would have a better chance of achieving that goal than Grianne did.
Just then the Elves and the Federation were in the difficult process of putting themselves back together. Arling Elessedil would serve as Queen regent until her eldest daughter grew to adulthood and assumed the throne. There was a rumor she would remarry and seek to put a son on the throne instead, that she would never permit her daughters to follow in the footsteps of their father and grandfather. She was a strong–willed, at times intractable woman, and she did not look back fondly on her marriage to Kellen Elessedil. With the war on the Prekkendorran ended, she was seeking ways to assure that madness of the sort he had displayed as King would never happen again. She would never achieve that goal, of course. Perhaps she knew that. But it did not stop her from trying.
Battered and disheartened by their defeat on the Prekkendorran, the Federation had withdrawn its armies, ceding to Callahorn and its people the lands to which it had laid claim during the war. After more than thirty years, the Southlanders had lost their taste for fighting a war that had netted them nothing. Sen Dunsidan was dead, and a new Prime Minister ruled the Coalition Council—a man who did not favor expansion as a goal and war as a means to an end. His people appeared to agree. There were those on both sides who believed that the war should be fought to the bitter end, those who would never accept any resolution short of victory on the battlefield, but they represented a small minority. A peace accord was swiftly brokered.
The threat presented by the deadly fire launcher was blunted, at least for the time being. As a condition to the peace she had brokered between the Federation and the Free–born, Grianne had won a single concession: There would be no further use of diapson crystals in the making of weapons. Diapson crystals would be used to power airships, and that would be all. The last fire launcher had been destroyed. The man who had invented it had disappeared and was believed dead, and his plans for building other weapons had been lost in a fire along with his models and designs. She had made certain of those things. She had assured herself that the matter was settled.
Her price for winning the agreement and assistance of all parties in enforcing covenants regarding the future use of diapson crystals was her promise to relinquish her place as head of the Druid order. Those who sought that did not know she had already made the decision to step down. It did not hurt to let them believe they had been responsible for persuading her. They were as frightened of her as they were of any weapon, and the bargain was easily struck.
She could not know if the bargain would be kept, but for the moment, at least, there was a fresh outlook in the governing bodies of the Races and a chance that common sense might prevail. Her successors would do their best to see that it did. Tagwen would serve as their adviser. Kermadec, who had re–formed the Druid Guard from among his own people, would see that they were protected. It was as much as anyone could hope for. It was the best she could do.
« Aunt Grianne?»
Penderrin stood at her elbow. She gave him a quick smile, her reflections and musings scattering like dust motes. «It’s a beautiful day, Pen. Perhaps that is a good omen.»
He smiled back guardedly. «Do you really think you can do something to help?» he asked. «Do you think there is a chance you can get her back?»
« I think maybe there is. Don’t you?»
He bit his lip. «I think that if anyone can do it, you can.»
« That is high praise, coming from a boy who found his way into the Forbidding and back again.» She paused. «Perhaps when we get there, you will discover that you don’t really need me after all, that you can do this by yourself.»
She saw the unsettled look that crossed his face. «No,” he said. «I’ve seen what’s down there, how she’s bound by the tree roots with the others. I don’t think I would be strong enough to free her on my own.»
They were flying to Stridegate and the island of the tanequil, where they would attempt to reclaim Cinnaminson. She thought that perhaps she had made the decision to do so even before coming out of the Forbidding, that she knew even then that she owed the boy that much. She understood from what he had told her how much the girl meant to him and how hard it had been to give up trying to free her and come looking for Grianne instead. That sort of sacrifice deserved more than a simple thank–you. She had waited until things were settled with the order and the treaties between the Federation and Free–born signed before acting. She had waited until his parents had returned home. It wasn’t that she didn’t think they would support their son’s efforts to free Cinnaminson, indeed, they would want to help. But making the attempt was something she had decided she must do with Pen alone, for reasons she had kept to herself. Only Kermadec and his Trolls were invited to come along.
She put a hand on Pen’s shoulder. «You are a lot stronger than you think,” she said. «I want you to remember that. Don’t make the mistake of underestimating what you can do.»
He shrugged. «I’m not very strong, really.» He hesitated. «I think that you are wonderful for doing this. I won’t ever forget, even if we don’t get her back.»
She almost hugged him, but couldn’t bring herself to do so. She had been distanced from others for too long, and although she might feel affection toward them, she was not comfortable with demonstrating it. She still saw herself as an outcast, as someone who didn’t really belong anywhere and would never be close to anyone. Worse, she saw herself as dangerous, more so since the events that had taken place inside the Forbidding. The workings of the wishsong’s magic when she had transformed herself into a Fury and when she had destroyed the Graumth had left her shaken. For the first time since she was a child, she was uncertain of the magic. Something about it was changed—perhaps still changing—and she was not sure how well she could control it.
She looked off into the horizon. «Strength comes to us through belief and determination, Pen. The trick is in recognizing how to use it.»
« You’ve done that better than I have,” he said quietly.
She glanced over at him and smiled.
How I wish that were true.
The grave diggers arrived around midday on their way south, and the old man invited them to eat with him. He set out ale and cheese and bread and sat with the three men around an old wooden table that occupied one corner of the porch and looked out over the fields of wheat he farmed as his family had farmed them for five generations.
« How is it up there?» he asked, after food and drink were consumed and the men were smoking.
The stocky one shook his head. «Bad. A lot of bodies. We did the best we could, along with the others. But they’ll be finding the bones of those we missed for years.»
« At least it’s over,” the old man said.
The tall one shook his head in reproof. «Should have been over years ago. Didn’t accomplish anything, did it? Years and years gone and nothing’s changed. Except a lot of good men are dead.»
« And women,” the stocky one added.
The tall one grunted. «Treaty with the Free–born gives us just exactly what we had before the war started. The only good thing that’s come of all this is we have a new Prime Minister. Maybe he won’t be as stupid as Sen Dunsidan was.»
He looked at the old man. «Did you hear what happened with that one?»
The old man shook his head.
« I heard it from one of the soldiers on theZolomach. He was there and saw it all. They were flying Dunsidan to Arborlon, maybe to make peace, maybe not. There’s some debate. They had that weapon aboard, the one that shot down the Elven King and his whole fleet. Anyway, some Druids intercepted the ship. One of them had a staff with markings that glowed like fire. Soldier who told me this said Sen Dunsidan couldn’t take his eyes off it. The Druids offered it to him, but when he took it, he changed into some sort of monster. Split right out of his skin, like a snake, then disappeared. No one’s seen him since.»
« Druid magic at work there,” the stocky one declared softly. «More of it later, too, if you ask me. The Zolomach sailed back to Arishaig, was there maybe a day, caught fire, and burned to her keel. Everything destroyed. Took that weapon with her.»
« A fire took the place where they built that weapon and the plans for it, too,” the tall one said. «Nothing left but ash and smoke. You’re right about those Druids. They were involved in it. Happened right after the witch
