Brot'an'duive stepped to the path's side, and his passive gaze fell upon Sgaile. The elder anmaglahk held out a hand to the open trail ahead.
"We follow in service to your purpose."
Sgaile turned his gaze from Brot'an'duive to Frethfare and back again. He did not know which of them had put him in the worst position. He stepped past Leshil, and the others followed, including Frethfare.
Not long after, Sgaile paused again. Paw prints led both ahead and off into the forest on his left. Brot'an'duive studied the split trail. There were signs that the pack had turned into the trees and back again, but why?
"It is your purpose and your choice," Brot'an'duive said to him.
Sgaile took a slow breath. "We move on and leave this deviation for our return."
He headed on in silence, and a short way down the main trail he slowed in caution.
"Is this…" he began in Elvish, for he did not want Leshil to hear.
"Yes," Brot'an'duive answered. "But it has changed."
The forest gathered upon itself in a wild and impenetrable tangle, except for one open passage that cut through the dense barrier.
"Well?" Leshil asked. "Is this it?"
Sgaile did not know how to answer, and Brot'an'duive had gone silent again.
"Fine!" Leshil snapped, and stepped into the path through the woods.
Sgaile followed. In spite of deep concerns over Leshil locating Cuir-in'nen'a, he could not stop this search. They had to find Wynn at any cost and bring her back.
At the end of the long path, he stepped through tall ferns behind Leshil.
A pack of majay-hi bustled about a lawn of grass and dark moss surrounding a single domicile elm. There stood Chap between Wynn and a tall elven woman in a shimmering white wrap.
Despair washed through Sgaile as he met the glower of Cuirin'nen'a. Wynn had been found, and his guardianship restored, but Sgaile had failed Most Aged Father once more.
Leesii thrashed through the ferns and halted, rooted to the ground. He stopped breathing. Wynn and Chap stood in the clearing, but he didn't really see them.
He only saw his mother, the perfect lines of her face, her tall and lithe stature, and eyes that could swallow all his awareness. He felt as he had looking down from the mountainside upon the vast elven forest-relieved and overwhelmed all at once. He had struggled and fought-and killed-for this intangible moment.
A flicker of terror passed through his mother's eyes at the sight of him.
In Leesil's youth, she had seldom shown open fear-and never at him.
Magiere came up beside him, but Leesii couldn't take his eyes from Nein'a.
"Mother?"
Someone grabbed his shoulder
Leesii knew it wasn't Magiere. Anger rose as he glanced back to find Sgaile restraining him.
Brot'an shook his head. "We are here now, and nothing can be done for it."
Sgaile's mouth tightened, but he stepped back as the others came through the ferns. Freth's narrowing eyes turned on Brot'an.
Leesil moved slowly forward, and Nein'a-Mother-turned her face aside. Perhaps all the years alone made her cringe with sorrow. The thought almost stopped Leesil from going on. He shrugged off the rope harness and brought the chest around into his hands.
One steel-gray majay-hi started and then lunged away from the surrounding woods. It spun about to stare into the trees, pacing.
Chap flinched and warily watched the steel-gray dog. The white female beside him hopped in closer to push at Chap with a whine. The other majay-hi grew more agitated in their movements.
It was the dogs and not Leesil that made Nein'a lift her face. Fear returned as she watched them. Her expression darkened when she peered among the trees, as if searching out some hidden threat.
Leesil slowed under the growing weight of guilt. Long imprisonment had affected his mother's mind. He kept on, stopping only when close enough to reach her.
Unbidden memories came of long hours training with her, the meals they had shared, and how she checked on him in his room when she thought he was asleep-and of a sad father who had done all this as well with unexplained reluctance.
Leesil wanted to confess his sorrow and guilt for abandoning her, for his father's death… for everything. But the words wouldn't come.
"Mother…" he finally said, "I'm taking you out of here."
Nein'a didn't reach out to put a hand upon his cheek, as she had long ago.
"Leave," she whispered with a slow shake of her head. "Get out of this land… if you still can."
Leesil's voice failed. He had come all this way, risked the lives of Magiere and Wynn and Chap-and her only response was to tell him to go?
Nein'a's large eyes shifted to Brot'an as the man approached. Leesil saw pleading in her gaze, and Brot'an's passive expression softened when he looked upon her. Leesil's stunned outrage was lost in chill anger.
Nein'a briefly spoke to Brot'an in Elvish, but the name "Leshil" was easy to catch. A silent Wynn looked up in dismay at Nein'a; this was enough to tell Leesil that his mother had asked Brot'an to take him away. He couldn't bear any more of this.
Leesil dropped to one knee and flipped open the chest, lifting the cloth bundle from within. He separated the cloth's folds and thrust out the skulls like a spiteful offering.
"I took them from Darmouth," he said sharply. "I went back looking for you and Father."
Nein'a's breath turned shallow as she reached out a hand. The closer it came to the skull of Leesil's father, the more her long, slender fingers shook.
"It is him?"
"Yes," Leesil said. "And your mother… though I was told it was you."
He cast a hateful glance at Brot'an, daring the tall elf to even try to explain. Brot'an offered no reply by word or expression.
"It is Eillean… and Gavril," Leesil said. "I brought them to you… for whatever last rites you see fit."
Nein'a's fingers slid to her mother's skull. Leesil had rarely seen her cry, but tears dropped down her caramel cheeks in silence. They seemed to drag her down into some strange sickness, and guilt flooded through Leesil again for his harsh words.
Nein'a took the cloth with both skulls and cradled them.
"Leave here at once," she whispered. "You cannot stay."
It was a long cold moment before she looked up and saw the others behind Leesil. Low, sharp Elvish erupted from her lips. The words sounded much the same as what she'd said to Brot'an, though this time Leesil caught Sgaile's longer elven name. She wasn't making a request, but a demand.
"You're coming with me," Leesil said. "I'm not leaving without you."
"I cannot," she whispered.
"It is true," Wynn said cautiously. "The path simply returns her, and anyone with her, back to this clearing. Chap and I have tried."
The sage's face and hands were covered in small scratches and scrapes. Leesil should've been angry for all the trouble she and Chap had caused, but then, they had found his mother.
"Enough!" Sgaile commanded. "We return to Crijheaiche. Leshil, come."
"No," he whispered.
He stood within reach of his mother-and she was alive. Her insistence that he go didn't matter. If anyone thought he'd simply walk away, they were dangerously mistaken.
At quick footsteps from behind, Leesil caught the barest cinch of Brot'an's scar-cut eyebrow.
Leesil back-stepped and spun out of reach.
As Sgaile tried to close the distance, Magiere snatched his cloak at the neck. Sgaile swung back with the edge of a flattened hand. It caught Magiere across the throat, and she fell back gagging.
"Stop this," Brot'an shouted. "Both of you cease!"