Its doorway was but a dark hollow he could not see into, and the sight of it was coated in Lily's fear.
He turned his attention back to the Anmaglahk as Brot'an raised an arm toward the tree and stepped out of the way.
"Go inside, Frethfare," he said in Belaskian. "Most Aged Fatherawaits." His face took on a more pleased expression. "Well met, Sgailsheilleache. Your journey was swifter than expected. Come and tell me of it."
Sgaile hesitated. "I have taken guardianship for Leshil and his companions."
"And my word holds all others to your purpose," Brot'an said. "No one will touch him or his. You will come with me."
Sgaile seemed only half-satisfied, but relented."Yes, Greimasg'ah."
Events were not playing out to Chap's liking, but he saw nothing he could do. He and Leesil were surrounded by their enemies for now. Frethfare headed for the behemoth tree, and he nudged Leesil forward, keeping himself between his companion and Brot'an.
Brot'an's head turned sharply and fixed upon a point at Chap's rear. Something sharp clapped on Chap's right hind leg. He whirled to snap but quickly stopped.
Lily held his leg firmly in her jaws. She tugged, trying to pull him, then let go and began barking wildly as she backed across the clearing.
Chap saw the center oak and its black hollow doorway in her thoughts. She wanted him to leave this place, but why? And how could he tell her that he could not do as she asked?
He barked twice at her and trotted toward the oak. Lily did not follow.
Frethfare pulled the doorway curtain aside, and Chap entered first into a large empty space within. The only fixture was a wide stairway of living wood to one side, but it led downward into the earth, not up as in Gleanns home.
Chap descended watchfully and emerged into a large earthen chamber. He stood in a hollow space below the massive oak. Thick roots arched down all its sides to support walls of packed dirt lined with embedded stones for strength. Glass lanterns hung from above, filling the space with yellowed twilight. In the chamber's middle was the trees vast center root. As large as a normal oak, it reached from ceiling to floor and into the earth.
Leesil stepped down beside Chap, his tan face paled by the sickly light. Leesil hated not having control, as didChap, and they had long since lost hold of their own path.
Frethfare descended behind them as a thin voice filled the earthen chamber.
"Come to me… here."
It came from the wide center root.
Chap stepped through the earthen chamber, around the center root, and found an oval opening that at first had been too hard to spot in its earth-stained wood. Leesil hesitated, but Chap inched forward to peer within. He froze at what awaited them.
The oak's vast center root held a smaller room more dimly lit than the outer chamber surrounding it. And its inner walls appeared alive even in its stillness.
Hundreds of tinier root tendrils ran through its curved walls like taupe-colored veins in dark flesh. The walls curved smoothly into a floor of the same make, and Chap was reluctant to even place his paw on its surface. Soft teal cushions rested before a pedestal flowing out of the floor's living wood. The back wall's midpoint flowed inward as well to support it.
Wall and floor protrusions melded together into a bower… or was it more a crude cradle? Among the clumps of fresh moss therein, two eyes stared out from a decrepit form.
Once he would have been tall, but he now curled fetal with his head twisted toward his visitors.
Thin, dry white hair trailed from his pale scalp around a neck and shoulders barely more than shriveled skin draped over frail bones. His triangular elven face was little more than jutting angles of bone beneath skin grayed by want of daylight. Deep cracks covered features around eyes sunken deeply into their large slanted sockets. His amber irises had lost nearly all color. All that remained was a milky yellow tint surrounded by whites with thread-thin red blood vessels. Cracked and yellowed fingernails jutted from the shriveled and receding skin of his skeletal fingers. His once peaked ears were reduced to wilted remnants.
"Father," Frethfare said.
She stood away from Leesil, bowing to the ancient elf. The old one ignored her and studied Chap and Leesil.
"Majay-hi," he said in a reedy voice. "I have not had such a visit in long years." He raised a hand to Leesil with slow effort. "Come closer… my son. Let me see you."
Chap reached for the memories of Most Aged Father.
He saw nothing. Not one image rose in the old one's mind. Chap remained poised and focused as he entered behind Leesil, and Frethfare followed.
Leesil tensed beside Chap as he took his first clear look at their host.
"I see your mother in you," said Most Aged Father. "And I know she trained you in the ways of our caste. You are Anmaglahk."
"Not in your oldest dreams," Leesil croaked, finding his voice. "Where is she?"
At that question, Chap caught the flicker of a glade in Most Aged Father's mind. Before it vanished, he saw a tall elven woman seated upon the grass. Beside her was a basket of moth cocoons, which she had been using to spin strands for raw sheot'a cloth.
Chap swallowed. Nein'a. But he caught no hint of where she was held.
"She is with us," Most Aged Father said, and lowered his hand. "She is a traitor to her people… to your people, Leshil. You are Anmaglahk, so I have brought you here to help her."
"Stop saying that!" Leesil answered. "I am not your son. You're nothing to me. Release her, and I'll take her far from here, where she'll never trouble you again."
Most Aged Fathernodded, his head rubbing the moss on which he lay. A stale scent like dust flooded Chap's nostrils.
"In good time," he said. "First you must do a service for your people… yes, you are of the people, and you would not turn your back on your own. Not on your kin and blood."
Leesil's voice rose. "Make some sense, old man! What do you want from me?"
Frethfare spun toward Leesil, as if she wished to strike him down. Most Aged Father remained calm and unaffected.
"There are others like your mother." A long silence followed before he went on. "She was misled-misguided-so she could not have acted alone. Your birth was a violation of our ways, but that is no fault of yours. But the idea of… a half-blood child… it could not have come from her. No, she was misled… yes?"
Chap saw a flash in Most Aged Father's mind-another woman,an an — maglahk. The resemblance to Nein'a would be clear to anyone, though her face was harder, her eyes colder.
Eillean.
"My sole concern is to protect our people," Most Aged Father continued. "Now you are honored to serve them as well. Most of the Anmaglahk are true in their hearts. But a few… just a few have fallen from our way, like your mother. They will see you as the son of Cuirin'nen'a. They will seek you out. Find them, Leshil-help me shield our people-and I will release Cuirin'nen'a toyou."
Chap could not help looking up at Leesil. This offer was nothing more than a trade of flesh, the dissidents for Leesil's mother.
Sweat now matted Leesil's blond hairs to the sides of his face, but his expression was guarded.
"Let me see her first."
"No," Most Aged Father answered softly.
"Then you get nothing from me. I talk to her first… then you and I might come to an arrangement."
Chap could not believe what he heard.
Most Aged Father seeded violence among humans. Did the Fay know of this ancient elf hidden in this shielded land? And if so, why had they never spoken of him? So concerned with keeping Magiere from the enemy's reach, had they no interest in why Leesil had been born and trained?