some sort of bow. He had his face in his hands, and was crying like a babe.
“You didn’t feel that?” Chelda seemed amazed. “You didn’t hear her?”
“I heard her, but I felt nothing.” Vanx crouched down beside her. Poops nudged her with his muzzle in a comforting manner and accepted it when she began scratching his ears.
“I think she’s dead,” Chelda wiped the tear away. “I’m sure of it. The pixie queen, I mean. She sent her life force into an elven warrior. I felt it. I felt it all. We have to kill the Hoar Witch. She is vile.” Chelda’s face looked stricken, but oddly calm and accepting. “She is attacking the Heart Tree in force this moment, and I am trapped down here in this empty Underland. The queen will never be able to undo what’s been done to me.”
Vanx wiped away her next tear for her and then fought back his own. The shock of Gallarael’s death hadn’t even had time to wear off, and now this. “There is bound to be another way, Chel,” Vanx reassured her. “You’ll not be trapped here forever.”
“No, after feeling all the goodness and love she felt for this place, that’s not what troubles me now.” She reached over and put a hand on Thorn’s back and patted the elf consolingly. “There probably is another way for me to get out, but until we figure it out, I can’t go up there and defend the Heart Tree. That is my pain.”
Thorn raised his head then and wiped his face on the sleeve of his silver-furred cloak. “If you really wish to defend the Heart Tree then you can, Lady Chelda.” His normally bright yellow eyes seemed cloudy and horribly sad. “The Shadowmane is considered part of the Underland.”
“Shadowmane?”
“You can tread on any ground that’s been touched by the Heart Tree’s shadow. That is its Shadowmane.”
“Take me there,” Chelda demanded. “Since I’ll not be able to go with you two to Rimehold, I’ll fight where I can.” She turned to face Vanx then. “It’s all the same battle. If the Hoar Witch gains the power of the Heart Tree, then you’ll never be able to kill her. Her rot will spread all across the world. Her beasts seem to fear my blade, and I can help Moonsy keep them from the tree.”
Vanx nodded, not really sure how Chelda understood all of this, or who Moonsy was. He was glad she wasn’t feeling hopeless and bitter. Maybe she and Thorn had a vision or something?
“We’re going to the nexus anyway,” Thorn said, as he regained his feet. “But we’ve still a good ways to go.” He wiped at his face again, the anguish slowly turning into determination. “We will soon come to Edric-Outs, a small village of mostly gnomes and sprites, but it is on the Tinker’s Way, so the passage beyond there is a lot bigger.” He squeezed Chelda’s hand.
“From there, Lady Chelda, you’ll no longer have to stoop.”
Only the reflexive skill, garnered from working with sometimes violently disagreeable animals, saved Darl from the sizzling crimson ray of energy that shattered the cabin door and sent its pieces hurling out onto the snowy ground. He and Gallarael had startled Xavian. The prepared mage nearly sent them to their deaths for it.
“What’s wrong with you?” Gallarael called from where she’d just dove out of harm’s way. “It’s me, Galra.”
“I don’t believe you,” Xavian called back. “You’re dead. Darl is dead too. Prove that you are not the witch’s beasts come to take us.”
“Someday you’ll do just fine with those suspicious old coots of my father’s Royal Order,” Gal told him. “It’s me, Xavian. Gallarael Martin Oakarm, the Princess of Parydon.”
“Tell me something the witch couldn’t know,” Xavian shot back.
“I just did.”
“You’re the Princess of Parydon?” Darl asked from the other side of the blasted entryway.
“Hush,” she hissed. “Like what, Xavian? I’m injured and tired. Where are Vanx and Poops? Where is Chelda?”
“Answer my question, and I’ll