Gleann's high eyebrows rose even higher. "He says the seyilf called you 'kin'… or blood of her kind."

Magiere looked to Leesil, who only shook his head, and then to Wynn.

The sage was horrified. She gave Magiere a quick shake of her head. Not in confusion but more that she couldn't speak her mind here and now.

It was enough to bring Magiere to her senses, enough to call up memories of a hidden room beneath the keep of her undead father.

One of the decayed bodies there had rotted feathers among its bones. Wynn called them Uirishg, the five mythical races, of which the elves and dwarves were the only known two. Five beings had been slaughtered in that hidden blood rite to make Magiere's birth possible.

Magiere turned cold inside, looking back into the silf s dark eyes.

It cried again, and the chain translation passed once more to Gleann.

"She says you are not to be harmed… her people will not tolerate any violence against one of their own."

"That cannot be true!" Most Aged Father shouted. "You translate incorrectly. And even so, how could she know?"

Again the chain of words passed, but this time Gleann stumbled and spoke one elvish word to Wynn. The sage seemed to have difficulty.

"Something like…" she began and shook her head. "She is… a spiritual leader of some kind. 'Spirit-talker' is the closest I can think of."

Gleann turned toward Most Aged Father. "If you wish to call Tuma'ac or the seyilf a liar, then do so for yourself and not through me. Do we now reject the word of those we promised to protect and hide in our mountains?"

Wynn shifted close to Magiere with a whisper. "The feather and berries in the mountain passage. It was one ofthem..one of the seyilf."

The silf turned away. Her flurried thrash of wings sent majay-hi scattering, as she half leaped and flew to the piles of stones that Sgaile had left at the clearing's edge. She grabbed a black one and tossed it across the clearing.

It tumbled to a halt before Most Aged Father, and he shook visibly as his expression turned livid.

The silf screeched again, and Tuma'ac grunted in satisfaction before speaking to Gleann.

"She calls us to vote," Gleann said, pointing to the stone, "and gives that of her people… against the claim of Most Aged Father."

"Do the advocates have anything further to present?" Sgaile asked quietly.

Brot'an shook his head once. But Most Aged Father clutched at Freth, whispering harshly. Freth kept shaking her head in denial.

"Your answer, advocate!" Sgaile called with more force.

Freth stood up, and her head dropped as she shook it slowly. "No… nothing."

Sgaile stepped to the clearing's center. "The Advocates have retired. We ask the elders to deliberate and render judgment on the claim presented."

Gleann didn't return to his clan. Instead, he simply cast a stone-black-and gave Magiere a curt bow. It was a kind gesture, but not enough to make her hopeful.

Another black stone arched out from behind her and tumbled across the ground. Magiere looked back.

The tall female in maroon stood halfway down the slope, the one Sgaile had called Tosan… something on the night they searched for Wynn. Her calculated study of Magiere turned suddenly upon Leesil, and then she walked back up to her chair between her like-clad attendants. How her filmy eyes saw anything was disturbing.

Magiere wasn't certain how long it would take the others, or whether a quick or protracted vote worked more in her favor. She tried not to meet the silf's steady stare, for its strange face was too difficult to read. She didn't want to think about her own past, her birth, and why this creature had mistaken her as kin.

One at a time, then in twos and threes, black and white stones fell into the clearing.

Magiere closed her eyes. She felt Leesil's arm slip around her shoulders and tighten.

She didn't watch Sgaile gather the stones, but after long moments she heard their clatter as he poured them into piles upon the ground.

Gleann's voice rose so loud it startled her, and her eyes snapped open as Wynn translated.

"As the claim against her is now dismissed, Magiere's companions cannot be held in blame either. They came here as guests of Most Aged Father and under oath of guardianship. No reason has been given to breach either. They must be released, and their property returned. Then other matters require our collected attention"-he glanced toward Most Aged Father-"concerning Anmaglahk ways in conflict with those of the people."

"It's over," Leesil whispered.

Magiere couldn't see any difference between the stone piles at Sgaile's feet. He seemed to understand her confusion and nodded to her.

"It is over-for now," Brot'an added. "I will take you back to quarters, so you may rest."

"Not quite," Leesil returned. "I still have a claim to make for my mother."

"It will be addressed," Brot'an answered. "The rest will be settled without either of you, and should cause you no more concern. Do not press the matter when it is not yet necessary."

Leesil glanced at Magiere, caught between concern and stubbornness.

Magiere put a hand on his chest. Both looked up as a rush of wind around Magiere whipped Leesil's loose hair wildly about.

The silf dropped upon the table behind Magiere and reached out too quickly, startling Leesil into the defensive. Magiere grabbed his wrist.

The tiny female flexed her wings and raised her hand more slowly this time. She lifted the side of Magiere's hair, letting its strands slide between narrow fingers ending in roan-colored nails that curved slightly like talons. The silf cocked her head, watching the hair fall bit by bit.

Magiere pulled back at the thrash of her wings as she lifted into the air and flapped away beyond the treetops.

Leesil exhaled."As if we haven't had enough for one day."

"There is one more thing," Wynn said. "Brot'an, would you please wait with Magiere?"

The sage grabbed Leesil's arm, pulling him along as she followed Chap toward Most Aged Father.

Chap had no idea what this seyilf-silf-truly wanted. Like Magiere and even Wynn, he was confused as to why it mistook Magiere for kin. Somehow the small winged female sensed the blood of its own used in Magiere's conception.

He had tried reaching for its mind to catch any memories, but he found nothing besides images of himself and his charges climbing downward through the mountain. The female had been the one to leave them a trail… the one who had called out to him amid the blizzard. This was all he gathered from it. He was left wondering why it had twice interceded on their behalf and how long it had watched them from hiding.

Chap had planned for a fight, even wanted it in part.Or at least enough distraction to take the one person who mattered-Most Aged Father.

He had watched the an'Croan shaken by how the majay-hi cast their

"vote" in this matter. Lily had likely strained her place among the pack in convincing them for him, but they all shared some strange animosity for the leader of the Anmaglahk, a being too old for natural life and yet making claims against Magiere as an undead.

Perhaps his rejected kin were correct-flesh and heart made him reckless. He did not care anymore.

Most Aged Father's bearers had not come for him. Even this did not matter toChap. He wanted answers, and he would take them.

Frethfare stepped in his way as he closed on the old one.

"We only have a message for Most Aged Father," Wynn said.

Chap barked once, not turning his eyes from the patriarch.

"Snaw… hac…" Leesil began, then sighed in frustration.

"Snahacroe," Wynn pronounced for him.

At the name, Most Aged Father's milky eyes widened and he sat up as straight as he could.

"He said to tell you…" Leesil called out clearly, "that he's waiting for his comrade to join him… when you're done."