She was speaking the language of the ancient fae.
A language the Forest People rarely spoke, aside from sparse words and partial phrases. Yet this woman spoke with ease and clarity…like the Elvyn had in El’Ara. Though their words had been translated by magic, she’d heard them speak before Etrix had woven his translation enchantment.
The dragon named Uziel kept its head lowered and backed away from the woman’s hand. Then, extending its leathery wings, it beat the air. Once. Twice. The first gust of wind sent the woman’s long black hair blowing away from her face, revealing the pointed tip of an ear. The second gust rushed over the camp, and Cora had to shield her eyes as clouds of dirt funneled into her. By the time the wind subsided, the dragons were no longer on the ground but soaring high overhead.
Then they were gone.
Relief uncoiled inside her, and she realized much of it wasn’t her own. She hadn’t been able to make out Valorre’s voice since he’d called her name, but she felt his proximity, their mental link.
You’re all right?he asked, his voice finally cutting through the disorder in her mind.
I am, she said, but she couldn’t focus on herself right now, or even Valorre.
Her gaze locked on the woman, still facing away from her. Cora knew who she was. There was only one person she could be.
Finally, the woman turned around.
A pair of familiar eyes met hers, and Cora realized there wasn’t onlyoneperson this figure could be.
She extended her senses beyond the thin walls of her temporary shields. The energy that pulsed back was as familiar as those dark irises. Her body was unrecognizable aside from the shape of her eyes, the kind expression in them. Gone were the crow’s feet that once lined them, the wrinkles that had dug deep furrows in the woman’s face. Gone was her hunched posture, her aged frame.
Salinda seemed to realize the same thing. She took a step toward the woman. Her voice was strangled as she uttered the name. “Nalia?”
It shouldn’t have been possible. Nalia was supposed to be dying. She was supposed to be the oldest woman in the tribe, not the tall and youthful beauty who strode toward them now, drawing the eyes of the frightened and confused spectators. But this woman bore the High Elder’s energy. Despite outward appearances, this was her.
The woman stopped before Cora and Salinda. She gave the latter a sad smile, which revealed the ghost of the wrinkles that used to frame her eyes. “Yes,” Nalia said. “It’s me.”
But that wasn’t her only moniker. It struck Cora that the answer had been here all along. Hidden in the High Elder’s name itself. She spoke it out loud, reversing the letters, and marked this woman as the one she’d needed to find.
“Ailan.”
The woman with two names released a heavy sigh and met Cora’s eyes. “Yes. I am she.”
27
Whispers broke out from those nearby.
“Who is she?”
“Did she say she’s Nalia?”
“Did she just speak to the dragons?”
“Is that…Cora?”
“Who is the stranger beside her?”
Cora’s skin prickled as several sets of eyes fixed on her and Mareleau. Mareleau edged closer and Noah let out a small cry, drawing more eyes their way.
Ailan—or Nalia, or whatever the hell Cora was supposed to call her—whirled toward them. Voice low, she said, “Go to my wagon. I know the two of you have questions.”
“They aren’t the only ones with questions,” Salinda said, marching up beside Ailan. “You owe us all an explanation. The elders especially.”
“I know. And I will give them one. First, let us get our guests some privacy while we set everyone at ease.”
“We?” Salinda pulled her head back. Their argument was drawing even more nearby spectators. “You want me to help you put everyone’s minds at ease? I don’t even know if theyshouldbe at ease. I don’t know who you are—”
“You know me.” Her words were firm yet kind and sounded so much like the High Elder. “Please, take my side for now. Once I’ve spoken with our guests, then with the elders, you can make your own decision.”
