Tressa was surprised. Moya would be laughing, Persephone shaking her head sadly. But then Brin didn’t have their wisdom, their years, their cynicism. For Brin, the world was still a place with empty spaces, blank voids where anything might dwell. Nothing was really impossible. Not yet. Age and experience proved suspicions, hardened rules, deadened imagination. Brin, Tressa felt, was still just young enough to believe the unbelievable.

  Brin looked at Roan, and then the dwarfs. She took time to read each face carefully. “Roan? Do you believe this?”

  “I was there. I know what happened. I can’t explain it, but yes, I think Tressa is right about Malcolm.”

  “And based on that you’re willing to . . .” Brin looked at Tressa. “What are you planning to do again?”

  “We are going to go north.” Tressa pointed in what she hoped was that direction. “About a day’s walk to a swamp.”

  “That’s the Swamp of Ith,” Tesh said. “Not a nice place. Even the war went around it.”

  Tressa nodded. “There’s a little island where the swamp and the Green Sea meet. We’re supposed to go there.”

  “How does that help Suri?”

  “From there we’re going to travel underground so we won’t have any problem crossing the river.”

  “Underground?” Rain asked. “How deep?”

  “Pretty deep, I’m guessing, because we have to go under the sea. We’ll come out in the city. Then all we have to do is find Suri and go back the way we came.”

  Tesh laughed, and quite loudly. “Ah—sorry.” He caught himself. “It’s just, well, that doesn’t sound like much of a plan. I kinda do that now, making battle plans, that is. So, assuming there is a route under the river to the city, um . . . how do you find her once you’re there? I mean, you pop up out of some tunnel and you’re in the middle of this unfamiliar place filled with the enemy, right? Suri is bound to be under guard somewhere, but you don’t know where. What are you going to do? Wander around? Ask for directions? Walk up to the first elf you meet and say, ‘Excuse me, but do you know where they are keeping the Rhune who looks a lot like me?’ That’s if you could speak Fhrey, which I don’t think you can. What happens when you run into resistance? Something I think is pretty likely, by the way. And how do you plan to get away? Even if you aren’t killed in the first few seconds, are you just going to run for it? I’m pretty sure they will follow you.”

  “I don’t know,” Tressa said. “Malcolm didn’t explain those details.”

  “Details!” Tesh laughed again.

  “He just seemed to suggest it would all work out.” She looked at her hands. “But then he also said I would have seven people go with me, and I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

  “There are seven people in this tent not including Tressa,” Roan said.

  “Oh, no. Hold on there, lass. I never said I was going anywhere,” Frost declared.

  “Me neither,” Flood said.

  “And Brin and I aren’t going,” Tesh declared for the pair.

  “Roan?” Brin asked.

  “I’m still going,” she replied.

  “Which means me, too,” Gifford said, taking Roan’s hand and smiling that lopsided grin.

  “What do you say, Brin?” Roan asked.

  “You really think that Malcolm is—”

  “Malcolm isn’t a god,” Tesh insisted. “Trust me on this. I lived with the man. And as for that swamp? It isn’t the sort of place to take a hike in. It’s dangerous. The Swamp of Ith is right on the border with the forest. Do you know what my men call the Harwood? Horrorwood, and for good reason. There’s likely to be elven scouts in there, or goblins, or worse. It’s no place for—”

  “But if there’s even a chance we could save Suri . . .”

  “You’re not going to save Suri with this group,” Tesh said. “You’d need an army.”

  Brin nodded and smiled as if Tesh had unwittingly solved everything. “If it’s true, it certainly would take more than us to save her, but the keenig won’t take it seriously unless—don’t you see? If there is a secret passage under the river, all we need to do is find it. It’s just a day’s walk, right?” She looked at Tesh but didn’t wait for the answer. “So, we go there, find it, come back, and then tell Persephone and Nyphron. Then they can send in the troops. We wouldn’t just save Suri, we’d win the war. Isn’t that worth a day’s hike through a swamp?”

  “I—I suppose,” Tesh said. Then he looked back at Tressa. “How big is this passage? How many men could we walk abreast? Is it well hidden?”

  “How the Tet should I know? Malcolm didn’t exactly draw me a map and paint pictures. Although . . .” Tressa snorted. “That brings up something else I suppose I ought to mention.” There were actually a number of things that needed saying, but she was making progress, and if she told the whole story, no one, not even Roan, would go. “I didn’t bring it up before because I thought you wouldn’t believe me.”

  “Seriously? Oh, this ought to be good,” Flood said, chewing a mouthful of cheese. “Maybe you ought to wait until I’ve swallowed, then.”

  “Like I care if you choke,” Tressa snapped. “So, yeah, I guess maybe the entrance is pretty well hidden, ’cause Malcolm said we’d need help finding it.”

  “What kind of help?” Gifford asked.

  “There’s a person living on the island to show us the way.”

  “Someone lives in the Swamp of Ith?” Tesh asked skeptically.

  “Yeah.” Tressa dragged the word out, the same way she might drag her heels toward a place she didn’t want to go.

  “Who?”

  “The Tetlin Witch.”

  Everyone agreed they had to tell Persephone before leaving. Not surprisingly, Tressa refused to be the one. Brin was the obvious choice, and after arriving back at the Keenig’s Lodge, she received the usual friendly wave from Habet.

  The tent had been a hive of activity all day. Most of it caused by Nyphron, who met there with his legion commanders to discuss a new strategy. They referred to it as the Long Shot and the Last Resort because with Suri’s abduction, it had come to that. The idea was to send a party of Fhrey north toward the headwaters of the Nidwalden, in Grenmorian territory. Elysan was slated to lead the troops. His mission would be to speak to Furgenrok, the ruler of the giants, and try to persuade him to switch sides in the conflict, or at least let the Rhune legion pass through his lands. By the sound of it, Brin didn’t think any of them held out much hope of the plan succeeding.

  When Brin returned, she was pleased to find the Fhrey commanders were gone, and so was Nyphron. The only ones inside were Persephone, Justine, and Nolyn. The little boy was asleep with Persephone curled around him, and Justine was straightening up the mess left behind by the day’s turmoil.

  “Why aren’t you with Tesh?” Persephone whispered. “I kept you here all day. I thought you’d—”

  “This is important.”

  “Oh?” Persephone carefully pushed herself up until she was sitting. “What is it?”

  “Roan, Gifford, Tressa, and I are going to the Swamp of Ith.”

  “What? Why? Does this have to do with what Tressa told us earlier?”

  Brin nodded. “After talking with her more, we think there’s a chance that she actually might know a way to cross under the river.”

  “Through a passageway that leads to a door in the center of the Fhrey capital?” Persephone asked skeptically.

  Brin shrugged. “We don’t know what it is. Tressa doesn’t, either, but it’s only a day’s walk to the swamp. And if she happens to be right, then we’ll come back with the news and you can send a legion over. If we’re wrong . . . well, who cares if the four of us spend a day tramping through a swamp?”

  “I do,” Persephone said. “It’s dangerous up that way.”

  “I could get Tesh to come. He wasn’t initially interested, but I’m certain I can persuade him.”

  “I know he is formidable, but even with him I can’t let you go wandering up near the Harwood.” Persephone looked down at Nolyn breathing softly in the bundle of blankets. “I’ve already lost Suri. I can’t risk you and Roan as well.”

  “Seph,” Brin said softly, “they’re going to want Suri to tell them how to make dragons.”

  “I know.”

  “Suri won’t want to do that.”

  Persephone lowered her head.

  “They’re going to torture her, Seph.”

  Persephone put a hand on Nolyn’s back and gently rubbed. “This is my fourth child. Did you know that? All except Mahn died before you were born. Mothers shouldn’t outlive their children. I didn’t bring Suri into this world, but she’s still my daughter.”

  “When we didn’t have swords, you took us across the sea to Neith. Just a few of us, not a huge army. But look what we did.”

  Persephone nodded. “Yes, but there wasn’t a war raging in Neith, and we had a Miralyith and an Artist-in-training. They were an army unto themselves. But you, Tesh, Tressa, Roan, and Gifford? Are you serious?”

  “We’re just going to look. It’ll probably be nothing, and we’ll come back, and that will be the end of it. But how can we live with ourselves if we don’t at least give it a try? Suri’s done so much for us. We love her, too.”

  “Brin”—Persephone shook her head—“I can’t let you. I’m sorry. I just can’t. It’s too dangerous.”

  Brin frowned. “Fine,” she said, her fingers clenching into fists. “Forget I said anything.”

  The Keeper turned and walked out.

  Chapter Twenty

  Beyond the Light of Day

  Tressa was known for many things; singing wasn’t one of them, but maybe it should have been. — The Book of Brin

  The next morning, the gilarabrywn that lay with its head between its front claws looked asleep. No, less than asleep; it appeared carved of stone. The only movement came from the wind flapping the leathery edges of its two great wings, folded up against the beast’s sides. Bigger than a horse, bigger than a moose, bigger than a two-story house with a peaked roof, it was the largest thing that moved under its own power that Brin had ever seen, and she stood less than ten feet from it. She had never been that close before. Few had.

  Everyone in the camp avoided Dragon Hill, and not surprisingly, Brin was alone. She was the first to wade through the tall wet grass, the first to reach the meeting place.

  She had a strapped bag slung over her shoulders, the very same one that Roan had given her to carry The Book of Brin. Her finished pages remained in a stack in her tent. She didn’t think she’d have the chance to write, and she needed the space for food and a blanket. Brin had packed a meal made by Padera. The old woman was suffering from a nagging cold, but she’d insisted on making it. The swamp wasn’t much more than a day’s walk, and while she’d brought very little, the pack still felt unpleasantly heavy for a hike.

  Roan and Gifford, who led Naraspur, appeared. They moved through the tents, then scaled the hill together, hand in hand. The sun hadn’t quite cleared the horizon, but Roan would have been awake for hours. The three trudged up the long slope from the camp, which in the misty morning light looked like a checkerboard of white and dark squares.

  “Good day,” Gifford called out with a smile, just as if they were meeting once again at the old well in Dahl Rhen.

  Gods, that seems so long ago! Brin thought.

  “Morning,” she said.

  A breeze that didn’t exist down in the valley blew in from the north, and Brin shivered. She flipped the hood of her woolen cloak over her head. Impossibly, the garment still smelled of her mother, who’d woven it only days before she died. Or maybe it was that her mother had just smelled of wool. As the three got closer, Brin could hear Gifford’s brace squeak. He sounded like the door to the old lodge. Brin remembered that the left one always made an odd noise, but the right door never made a sound. Funny the things you recall.

  Gifford and Roan were a lot like those doors. The world of Brin’s youth was forever gone, but coming up the hillside was its spirit. The two wore heavy cloaks of the Rhen pattern. On the horse, the same clever shoulder packs were strapped, as well as little metal water carriers.

  “Where’s your armor?” Brin asked Gifford.

  He looked up with a sheen of sweat on his face. “I think we all know I am slow enough without it. And it’s too heavy fo’ hiking. You might be supwised to know, but I’m not good on long walks.”

  “Aren’t you going to ride Naraspur?”

  Gifford nodded. “I’m gonna use the old gal to get to the swamp, but I suspect I’ll have to leave Naw-as-pa behind to get to the island. She can wait till we come back.”

  Roan pulled their intertwined hands to her lips and kissed Gifford’s fingers, then gave him an admiring look that, autumn wind be damned, warmed Brin from the inside. She envied the two and hoped she and Tesh would one day be like them.

  The three dwarfs came next. Given Frost’s and Flood’s denials during yesterday’s meeting, Brin was surprised to see them. Then she noticed they didn’t carry packs, so they were only there to see the party off. All three spoke in their native language of sharp chopped tones, which sounded a bit angry, but their language always sounded that way.

  Tressa came up the hill behind them, walking alone. She had a full pack strapped to her shoulders as if she planned on being gone a year. Watching her, Brin wondered if the dahl had misjudged the woman or whether the events of the last few years had made her a better person. She felt it was a bit of both. The idea bothered Brin on a professional level and reminded her of what Malcolm had said about truth. Life was never as simple as told in tales. So what did that say about them? Were they truth or fabrications?

  “Brin!” Tesh called as he easily jogged up the slope despite his armor and dual swords.

  “Morning, dear!” She waved brightly.

  He scowled in return. “We talked about this last night. We aren’t going, remember?”

  “You are right. We did talk, and I am going, remember?”

  After leaving Persephone’s tent, Brin had told Tesh she was joining them and asked him to come. He had ranted about how she, Tressa, Gifford, and Roan had no idea what it was like up north. They had argued for hours, but it hadn’t changed her decision any more than Persephone’s edict had. Apparently, Tesh hadn’t gotten the message.

  Tesh clenched his teeth and rolled his eyes. “This is”—he searched for a word, probably stupid or pointless, as he’d used those several times the night before, but what came out was—“dangerous.”

  “We’re just going on a little hike,” she said.

  “No, you’re not. I forbid it.”

  “Excuse me?” Brin was stunned. “You’re what now? My husband? Even if you were, it wouldn’t matter.”

  Tesh didn’t answer, but he was fuming. “But you have no reason to go.”

  “Suri is my friend. What part of that do you still not understand?”

  “I don’t mean that. I meant—”

  “What do we have here?”

  Brin was so busy fighting with Tesh that she hadn’t noticed Moya and Tekchin approaching. They, too, climbed the hill. “Going somewhere, Brin?”

  Brin turned her back on Moya, which left her facing the dragon. “Cinnamon sticks!”

  “What?” Tesh whispered, inching closer.

  “Persephone sent her,” Brin whispered back.

  “I got that, but what’s the thing about . . . cinnamon sticks? Is that a curse?”

  “My mother used to say it when our dog, Darby, got in the wool.”

  “Wow, your mother was a real firebrand, wasn’t she?”

  From behind, Brin could hear Moya getting closer. “Persephone said you couldn’t go. Do you remember that conversation, Brin?”

  “There’s way too much forbidding going on,” Brin whispered to herself.

  “I know you can hear me,” Moya said.

  “Mo-ning, Moya,” Gifford called to her.

  “Morning, Gifford,” she replied.

  “Morning, Moya,” Tressa offered.

  “Shut up, Tressa,” Moya shot back.

  Brin folded her arms and clenched her teeth.

  “Brin?” Moya was close now. “Did you forget to tell everyone that Persephone said no one is allowed to go?”

  “She told us,” Gifford said. “That’s why we meeting up on this hill and away fwom the camp.”

  Oh thanks, Gifford, Brin thought.

  “So this was supposed to be a secret meeting?” Tekchin asked. “A clandestine rendezvous?”

  “Ain’t my boyfriend fancy sounding?” Moya said. Her footsteps had stopped.

  Brin still refused to turn.

  “Did you really think Persephone was that stupid?” Moya said. “You—”

  Brin whirled around. Her cheeks glistened with tears. “It’s Suri, Moya! It’s Suri! And we’re not going to sit here and do nothing. Besides, we’re only gonna look! I just can’t . . . I can’t . . .”

  Moya reached out and hugged her. “I know. It’s okay.”

  “I just wanted to do something,” Brin cried into her shoulder. “I need to help her. I have to at least try. After all she did for us . . .”

  “I understand. I do. It’s okay.”

  Brin put her arms around Moya, and she felt something. Pulling away she asked, “Why are you wearing a pack?”

  “’Cause I heard this trip was going to take all day, maybe two. Sorta an overnight camping thing, right?”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Seph said it was too dangerous with just a single Techylor for protection.” She looked at the prymus. “No offense, Tesh.” Turning her attention back to Brin, she said, “So, guess what? The keenig ordered me to play babysitter.” Moya displayed a sarcastic smile. “Thanks for this by the way. I sooooo wanted to spend the day wading through a disgusting swamp with Tressa.”

  “I love you, too, Moya,” Tressa said.

  “Shut the Tet up, Tressa.”

  “Tekchin coming, too?” Brin asked.

  “Uh-huh. I’ll need someone to rub my feet after the walk.” Moya grinned at him.