"Ina sighed. "I cannot assume her fault. She has to demonstrate her own conscience."
Ina looked at Athyn, as did the eldest. The Femage shrugged. "I don't understand."
"You killed the trees." Ina lashed at Athyn. "What don't you understand about that?"
"That they're not dead. They're still here. Their roots, anyway. You said Gnarls are the roots of magic trees, so they're still alive. Why do you keep saying I killed them?"
The Gnarls that had gathered among the trees at the clearing's edge began shouting. They yelled for Athyn's blood, for the eldest to crush her. Ina moved her eyes, as if searching her brain for something to say, and despaired at not being able to find anything. The eldest, however, did.
"Silence," he screamed. His thundering voice quieted everything, not just the Gnarls. Even the birds that flew away from nearby trees dared not squawk as they fled. "She wishes to understand. She wishes to know us. Her question is the birthing bed of awareness."