“Come back from the dead, rwwlll Wren of the Elves,” the
other growled softly.
Wren would have thrown her arms about the Splinterscat if
she could have managed to find a way, but settled instead for a
quick gasp of relief and laughter. “You’re alive! I can’t believe
it!” She clapped her hands and hugged herself. “Oh, I am so glad
to see you! I was certain you were gone! What happened to
you? How did you escape?”
The Splinterscat moved forward several paces and seated
himself, ignoring Faun, who continued to dart about excitedly.
“The-ssppht—serpent barely missed me when it destroyed the
raft. I was dragged beneath the surface and towed by the current
all the way back-hsstttt-across the Rowen. Phhhffft. It took
me several hours to find another crossing. By then, you had
gone into Eden’s Murk.”
Faun skittered too close, and the spines rose threateningly.
“Foolish Squeak. Hsssttt!”
“How did you find us?” Wren pressed. Garth was seated next
to her now, and she signed her words as she spoke.
“Ha! Ssspptt! Not easily, I can tell you. I tracked you, of
course-hsssstt-but you have wandered in every direction since
you entered. Lost your way, I gather. I wonder that you man-
aged to find the cliffs at all.”
She took a deep breath. “I used the magic.”
The Splinterscat hissed softly.
“I had to. The queen is very sick.”
“Sssttt. And so the Ruhk Staff is yours now?”
She shook her head hurriedly. “Just until Ellenroh is better.
Just until then.”
Stresa said nothing, yellow eyes agleam.
“I’m glad that you’re back,” she repeated.
He yawned disinterestedly. “Phhfft. Enough talk for tonight.
Time to get some rrwwoll rest.”
He made a leisurely turn and ambled off to find a place to
sleep, looking for all the world as if nothing unusual had hap-
pened, as if tonight were just like any other night. Wren stared
after him for a moment, then exchanged a long look with Garth.
The big Rover shook his head and moved away.
Wren pulled the blanket back around her shoulders and cra-
dled Faun in her arms. After a moment, she realized that she
was smiling.
CHAPTER
18
ELLENROH ELESSEDIL DIED at dawn. Wren was with her
when she woke for the last time. The darkness was just
beginning to lighten, a pale violet tinge within the mist,
and the queen’s eyes opened. She stared up at Wren,
her gaze calm and steady, seeing something beyond her grand-
daughter’s anxious face. Wren took her hand at once, holding it
with fierce determination, and for just an instant there appeared
the faintest of smiles. Then she breathed once, closed her eyes,
and was gone.
Wren found it odd when she could not cry. It seemed as if
she had no tears left, as if they had been used up in being afraid
that the impossible might happen, and now that it had she had
nothing left to give. Drained of emotion, she was yet left feeling
curiously unprotected in her sense of loss, and because she had
no one she wanted to turn to and nowhere else to flee she took
refuge within the armor of responsibility her grandmother had
given her for the fate of the Elves.
It was well that she did. It appeared no one else knew what
to do. Eowen was inconsolable, a crumpled, frail figure as she
huddled next to the woman who had been her closest friend.
Red hair fallen down about her face and shoulders, body shak-
ing, she could not manage even to speak. Triss and Dal stood;
by helplessly, stunned. Even Gavilan could not seem to summon
the strength to take charge as he might have before, his hand-
some face stricken as he stared down at the queen’s body. Too
much had happened to destroy their confidence in themselves,
to shatter any belief that they could carry out their charge to
save the Elven people. Aurin Striate and the queen were both
gone-the two they could least afford to lose. Trapped within
the bottomland of Eden’s Murk on the wrong side of Blackledge,
they were consumed with a growing premonition of disaster that
was in danger of becoming self-fulfilling.