But, he assured himself, the forest would recover from the small damage they had caused and the papers would one day be returned. He had no great fondness for elves but didn’t wish them ill either. He had experienced their coldness too many times to think of those who lived here as anything more than half civilised. Strange that their Balaian-dwelling cousins were so friendly. Perhaps it was a function of shaking off the manacles of the rainforest. Or perhaps Balaia really was a better place to live.

Right now he certainly believed it was. He would have given almost anything for a soft bed somewhere he wasn’t liable to wake up covered in bites and burrowing insects. Still, they’d be at the ship in a few days. If they could outwit the TaiGethen.

He shifted and moved to the rim of the ledge, hanging his legs over the side and banging them gently against the rock while he thought.

‘Where are you?’ he whispered. ‘How do you think? How do you hunt?’

So little was known about the TaiGethen bar their fanaticism. Indeed he was fortunate to have even seen one. They shunned towns and cities and bothered no one unless they felt threatened. He had hoped to avoid them but now he had to think around them. Do what they wouldn’t expect.

They’d assume he’d travel downriver but he might have fooled them by taking to the stream. But they would catch him. They’d be watching the rivers at key points. They’d probably already guessed where the ships were. What he really needed to do was find Stenys or Erys but that would be well-nigh impossible. Either of them could commune with the reserve and ensure they didn’t come too far, keeping themselves to a defensive line up across the river estuary in which the ships lay at anchor. It was the action he had ordered but they might get twitchy enough to send out search parties. Trouble was, it was as good as sending the unfortunates to their executions.

Knowing there was nothing he could do, he thought back to the plans he’d given the groups for their escapes. Almost immediately he had an idea. Ben wasn’t going to like it, but then Ben wasn’t in charge.

Relaxing now he had something definite in mind, Yron swung his legs back on to the ledge, scrambled in a little way and lay down with his hands behind his head to doze, a smile on his face.

‘You are not in a fit state to be out of bed, much less travel to Aryndeneth,’ said Ilkar.

He and Rebraal were sitting alone around a fire in the centre of the village, drinking a healing herb tea. It was late and very dark and the fire had drawn insects from everywhere. What Rebraal had learned made him talk to his brother but it hadn’t changed his opinion.

‘And you are not fit to be in my sight at all. You will not tell me what I can and can’t do. This is something that must be done, and it is betrayers like you who make it necessary.’

‘How did you work that out?’ Ilkar hadn’t thought to be blamed for the shortcomings of the Al-Arynaar.

‘Because those such as you did not believe. You thought you knew better, that what the Al-Arynaar and the TaiGethen believe in had no foundation. And because you refused to join us, you weakened us. And here is the result of that weakness.’

‘How many of them attacked you?’ asked Ilkar.

‘A hundred and thirty or so.’ Rebraal was matter of fact.

Ilkar was stunned. ‘How many?’ He had imagined a lightning strike by some very skilled raiders, not an armed invasion.

‘And nine of us killed almost a hundred.’

‘Nine?’ Ilkar swallowed.

‘Yes, Ilkar, nine. Including two mages. Because there are not enough of us. Barely enough to keep the net working. You’ve forgotten so much. Where did I go wrong?’

Ilkar heard regret and disappointment in Rebraal’s voice. And the net hadn’t worked. Neither the Al-Arynaar nor the TaiGethen nor the ClawBound had detected a large raiding group.

‘You didn’t go wrong,’ said Ilkar quietly. ‘It was me. I didn’t believe, not deeply enough.’

‘Do you not pray to Yniss, Ilkar?’

Ilkar dropped his gaze and stared into the fire.

‘Then truly I have failed,’ said Rebraal. ‘I couldn’t even teach you what binds us to the land and our Gods.’

‘I know the teachings,’ said Ilkar. ‘I just didn’t feel the power as you or Father did. I didn’t have it within me to be Al-Arynaar.’

‘But you had it within you to be a mage,’ said Rebraal. ‘Why didn’t you come back?’

‘Because I didn’t belong. I wanted to be a great mage, not one just adequate to guard Aryndeneth or scout the forest all my life.’

‘You follow different Gods,’ said Rebraal. ‘I hope it was worth it.’

‘Yes it was.’

‘And now? Now that elves are dying because of what strangers from Balaia have done?’

Ilkar had reached the limit of what he was prepared to accept. This was where he began to lose it. Funny. Denser and Erienne seemed more willing to listen to Rebraal than he was on this.

‘How can that be? How can we be so vulnerable that a hundred thieves can bring us to the brink of disaster? There has to be another explanation. There has to be a cure.’

‘Idiot!’ stormed Rebraal, pushing himself up from the bench, pain spearing across his face as it must have through his shoulder. ‘It has always been this way. Why do you think the Al-Arynaar exist? The TaiGethen? Why? To protect the elves from exactly this possibility. I have read the texts as you have not, Ilkar. I bothered to learn the one weakness in the glory of the harmony, of Yniss, Tual, Orra and every God in which I place my faith and trust.’

‘And what is it?’

Rebraal’s face fell and comprehension dawned on his features. He sat down very close to Ilkar.

‘You really don’t feel it, do you? And that’s why you never came back as I did.’

‘Feel what?’ Ilkar could sense the disappointment in his brother.

‘I see it now. And you’re probably not alone, are you? Every elf who stays on Balaia must feel like you do.’ Rebraal sighed, understanding bringing him a little peace.

‘Like what?’ Ilkar wanted to shake him but calmed himself, letting Rebraal order his thoughts in order to explain. He’d seen this in his older brother before. He had always been so thoughtful, so deep in his belief. It was one of the things Ilkar admired about him most.

In front of them the fire hissed and crackled as a light rain began to fall. Ilkar looked up into the heavens. The cloud wasn’t heavy; it would soon pass.

‘There is a text you will have heard of. That handed down by Yniss to Tual and from Tual to the elves when they were spawned from the rainforest and built Aryndeneth.’

‘The Aryn Hiil.’ Ilkar nodded.

It was the text the priests and then the Al-Arynaar guarded most jealously. The Words of the Earth, if you believed it, written by Yniss himself. Only those of a certain attainment were allowed sight of it. Rebraal would be one of them.

‘Yes. The Aryn Hiil describes elves and their place in the world. It tells that elves should be the guardians of the forest. That we should be the denizens blessed by Tual and charged with keeping the land and its creatures safe. That with this honour was given long life - so the ways of the forest could be learned and passed to the next generations - but that we would not be numerous, only wise and careful. And that we would be further honoured by being one with the forest and the air and the magic. That we would feel all these energies within us and this would give us the strength to fulfil our task for Tual.

‘But with it came a warning. That should we stop believing and let vine and rat gain dominion over our sacred sites; let sloth govern our minds and ignorance guide our hands, then this gift would be taken from us. And we would shrivel and die, our long life taken and our families lying dead beside us where they had lived. It would be the Sorrow of Elves, and only by turning back to Yniss could we be complete again.