‘What has happened?’ Malina asked Ralph.
‘Birin wishes to speak with you,’ he replied. ‘We have reached the forest.’
As Ralph and Malina approached the front of the line, they found Birin well out in front, alone. He had dismounted and held the reins of his horse. When he heard them approaching, he passed the reins to an aide. They could see, now, that a great forest lay hidden in the cloud. Its sheer immensity was daunting.
Malina, turning to Ralph and Birin, said, ‘I must go alone. If the Faerie folk are here they may not trust even me in such company.’ With a wry glance at her attire, she said, ‘From a distance they may not even recognize me for what I am.’ She glanced at the forest and swallowed, apprehension in her every line.
Trying to conceal his anxiety, Ralph took a deep breath and said, ‘If anything happens . . . anything at all . . . please, get the hell out of there.’ The two stood for a moment, facing each other uncertainly. At once, Ralph seemed to make a decision. He took the last step forward, and they embraced, until Birin cleared his throat uncomfortably.
‘Miss . . . we’re not even sure if there is anyone out there.’ Birin was difficult to read at the best of times but there was an underlying tension to his tone that belied his anxiety.