"Anest," he said at last, "give me your cloak please." Anest did so, his features a question. Lily wrapped Anest's cloak about the girl's shoulders. She was shivering, visibly, as though her ability to withstand the elements had suddenly deserted her.
"She is coming with us," said Lily.
"Why has she left the forest?" asked Palindor.
To Palindor's surprise, he saw that Lily was too overcome with emotion to speak for a time. But at last, she said, "She has left to bear witness, and she must return someday, to tell of all that she has seen. But she can't-" Lily's voice caught. "She will never be able to go back . . . not as she was. She is now mortal. Like me."
"But how will she live away from the forest?" asked Palindor, an ugly knot forming in the pit of his stomach.
Lily turned to look at him. "She will not. She will die within the year . . . that much grace has she been given."
The others were aghast. "Then she is left with nothing?" cried Palindor, outraged. "With not even the gift of speech so that she may communicate her needs, or identify aught that might help us save her from this doom? What you say is monstrous! Lily . . . how will she bear it?"