Tansel looked between them as if they knew everything and simply were not telling her. “What’s he doing to her?”
“We don’t know,” Eaglin said. “Tansel, you understand how dark the Old One’s domain can be. What makes it so dark is being alone. One comes face to face with one’s choices and all the paths that have spread out, and will spread out, by those choices. No one, not wizards or even gods, can rescue a person from that place. It’s a solitary path. That’s where Aradia is right now.”
Tansel hung her head and said nothing. The firelight lit a single tear on her cheek.
“It’ll be dawn soon,” Lorth said. “We should go.” He strode into the woods and let loose a long, eerie whistle to call back the horses.
Tansel pulled her blanket around her body and withdrew into the shadows of the Old One’s domain like a wounded animal.
Freil’s Deception
For two days, Tansel rode with Eaglin and Lorth towards Muin Hall. Though the crowharrow no longer hunted them, the wizards rode with more urgency than Tansel would have liked. As they neared her great grandfather’s realm, she began to appreciate her companions with a renewed desperation. She didn’t wish to return to Muin and the turmoil she had known there, nor could she stop the roaring river of excuses and explanations she might offer if Caelfar learned the more intimate details of her triumph over the immortal’s charms.
At Eaglin’s request, Tansel rode with Lorth. She had protested this initially, given the warrior’s odd manner and the fact that he knew her tender secret; however, Eaglin’s horse, tall and black with a white diamond on its chest and a mean, eldritch sparkle in its eye, bade her to drop the matter. She did have to admit, though unnerving at times, Lorth was kind. He had a way that reminded her of the patience and resilience of wild things. And he could blend into the woods like Mushroom when he had a mind.
It was late afternoon on Midsummer’s Eve, warm with high clouds. Lorth’s easy, rhythmic riding style caused Tansel to drowse against his back as the forest flowed by around her. She started as he spoke.
“Did you mindspeak Caelfar?”
“In a dream,” Eaglin answered. “I told him we were well.”
“Did you tell him to drop the Formation Pentacle?”
“Aye.”
“Let’s hope we get there before the sioros decides to come looking for his voidstone.”
From the corner of her eye, Tansel saw Eaglin nod. “Caelfar wants to use the stone to bargain for Aradia. He thinks he can bring her back. He didn’t listen to me when I told him she was in the Old One’s domain.” He looked over his shoulder at Tansel—who shut her eyes quickly and feigned sleep. “He’s weakening, Lorth. He didn’t drop that Pentacle because he wanted to. He had to.”
Lorth wasn’t fooled by Tansel’s sleeping act. When he spoke, he used Tarthian. He had been teaching her the tongue, to amuse her, but she didn’t know enough to understand it. Whatever Lorth said, it caused Eaglin to fall silent.
A short time later, they stopped. Eaglin muttered something as he dismounted. Lorth slid from his horse, and then reached up and helped Tansel down. “Who is it?” he said to Eaglin.
“Caelfar.” The Raven walked stiffly to the edge of the woods, facing south.
“What’s he doing?” Tansel asked.
“Your great grandfather is entering his mind, to deliver a message, probably.”
Eaglin returned. “Let’s go.”
“What’s going on?” Tansel said.
“We’ve got company. Ride with me.” She hesitated, eyeing the black horse. But it was not a request. The wizard approached the beast, grasped the halter and spoke three words that caused the horse’s manner to change. Lorth took Tansel by the waist and lifted her up. She gripped the back of the saddle as Eaglin mounted in front of her, and then she flung her arms around his waist as the horse began to prance about. The power and wildness of the animal caused her heart to pound. Eaglin continued to talk to it until it calmed down. “His name is Sefae,” he said. “He’ll not harm you.”
Tansel doubted it. She tightened her arms around him, instinctively moving a hand up over the wound in his chest. Heat emanated from it. He covered her hand with his. “Who’s coming?” she asked against his back.
Eaglin turned Sefae and followed Lorth into the trees. “Your father.”
Since Eaglin had told her of her father’s arrival, Tansel had buried the notion in much the same way she had hidden the voidstone seven years before. But every time she slept, she dreamed of the ocean, her father’s ship, and the loerfalos. Sometimes the crowharrow appeared, and sometimes not. She hadn’t told the wizards about her dreams for fear they would question her or tell her something she didn’t want to hear.
“I don’t want to see him,” she said.
The wizard turned his head slightly. “Your father is a man of war. Such men can wander far from hearth and family. It is the way of things.”
Tansel absorbed that as she might a bitter beet green. “Can’t you hide me or something? Tell him I ran away. Tell him the crowharrow ate me. Tell him to—”
“I can’t do that. As I told you, I was the one who asked Freil to find him.” He paused. “I thought it might help you to know something about him. He didn’t come here at my bidding. But he is here. You might as well meet him, and then you can make your own judgments about it.”
Tansel flashed an image of releasing the writhing loerfalos into the tide.
The sounds of riders echoed through the forest.
Eaglin checked his horse and dismounted. Tansel looked down at him. “I hate this.” Her voice rose into a shriek as the horse spooked, unseating her. She hit the ground with a shock. Eaglin swore something under his breath as Sefae thundered into the woods.
Dazed, Tansel sat there, torn to pieces by some terrible, implacable force she didn’t understand.
Eaglin knelt, helped her to her feet and made sure she was unhurt. “Listen to me,” he said intently. “A new challenge faces you now. Remember what you’ve learned. Your strength is within. It depends on no one, not your father, not Caelfar, not me. That doesn’t mean you have to be alone. Do you understand?”
“I refused the crowharrow. I can’t refuse this?”
“Your father is not a crowharrow.”
Tansel peered around his shoulder into the trees, envisioning the crowharrow flying over the ocean waves. Not a crowharrow. Worse than that! A man didn’t have to take no for an answer. Between the trees, Lorth emerged on his horse. By his side rode two men, a blond-haired man in cerulean blue riding the white horse she had seen before escaping the hall, and another she made a point not to inspect.
She looked into Eaglin’s eyes. “Don’t make me do this.”
The three riders approached. A gruff voice said, “What’s he doing?”
“Where is Sefae?” said the other.
“Please, Eaglin!” Tansel pleaded.
“All right,” the wizard soothed. “I’m here. But I can’t intervene; you must stand to him on your own.”
As he turned, Tansel got behind him. Though Lorth had kindly brought her fresh clothes, there hadn’t been time to bathe and she now became blaringly conscious of dirt, sex, and blood, hers and Eaglin’s, all mingled together like a crime scene. She drew her cloak around her body to hide.
The men dismounted. Lorth said something to the other two and then approached Eaglin. “What are you doing?” he inquired softly, leaning aside to look at Tansel.
Eaglin lowered his voice. “She fell off the horse. What’s happening?”
Tansel’s father and the other man were arguing.
Lorth said, “Gabran defied my orders and Freil followed him. Let’s let this play out. Something bad is simmering here and I want to know what it is.” Irritation passed over his features as he returned to the others.
“Tansy!” boomed a familiar voice. Tansel peeked out from behind Eaglin. A man in the dark heavy trappings of a warrior strode towards her, arms outstretched.
As Gabran approached, Eaglin said to him, “Give her time.”
“I don’t have—” He cut that off. “I’m her father.” He brushed past Eaglin, who unclenched his jaw and quietly introduced them.
Tansel barely heard it as the burly warrior stepped up to her. He was weathered by the sea and clad in fighting gear. Avoiding his face, she fixed her gaze on the tiny loerfalos holding the braid of his hair. She tried to recall the word she had uttered in her dream to make it come alive, but the night had taken it.
“You don’t want to see your own father?” Gabran asked, tilting his face down.
No. She lifted her chin with a breath. “I don’t know you.”
He reached out. “Tansy...”
“Don’t call me that,” she snapped, stepping away from him.
His shallow expression melted into a chuckle. “Just like your mother. And a woman now, too.” His gaze moved over her. “Safe and sound, I see.”
At this, Tansel snatched a quick glance at Eaglin. His expression, dark as a tomb, held scant comfort. “I want to go home,” she said to the ground.
Eaglin released his horse-calling whistle.
Her father held out his hand. “Come. Ride with me.”
No. Tansel shook her head. “I will ride with Eaglin.”
The warrior’s eyes widened. “Eaglin, is it? Have you not learned to address a Master of the Eye properly?”
Eaglin snorted a laugh. “That, coming from you.” Just then, Sefae trotted through the trees. Eaglin rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck as if he were getting ready for a fight, and strode to meet the horse, his hand raised.
Gabran swung around in the direction of Lorth and the blond-haired man named Freil, who were talking together quietly. He called out, “I thought you said she was shy!”
Eaglin approached leading Sefae. The beast appeared more agitated than usual. “Your daughter has been through an ordeal you could scarcely imagine,” the Raven said. “Some respect would become you.”
Gabran took on a professional air. “I am Captain Maerlas’ First on the Winterscythe, the most fearsome war ship in the Keepers’ army,” he said proudly. “I know a thing or two about ordeals.” He raked a cavalier gaze over Tansel, and then settled his attention on Lorth as the wizard approached with Freil trailing a pace behind. “Which reminds me. We have a matter to discuss, you and I.”
Lorth raised his brow and pointed to his chest in question.
“I think that can wait,” Eaglin said. He gestured to Freil, who approached Tansel with a captivated expression. “Tansel, this is Freil of Loralin, Order of Osprey. He hails from Crowharrow, and knows these lands well. Freil, this is Tansel, Master Caelfar’s great granddaughter.”
Tansel gazed up at the young wizard with her heart in her throat. He had a bright, otherworldly way about him, with hair as fair as corn silk and eyes of hemlock green. She said something proper without hearing it as she imagined how dreadful she must have looked.
“Charming,” Gabran put in. To Freil he said, “Don’t get any ideas.”
The three wizards turned to him in astonishment. Tansel’s fascination took a jolt as Freil squared his shoulders, cheeks flushed. “How dare you feign interest in her,” he said. “You think I don’t know why you’re here?”
“I was sent by the Aenlisarfon to speak to the Raven of Ostarin,” the Albatross returned shortly. “’Tis no concern of yours.”
“You lie,” Freil accused. “The Council bade you to wait for him.”
Gabran stepped forward as if to gut him on the spot. The two men were the same height, but the sailor outweighed the wizard in seasoned brawn. “And how would you know that?”
“I saw you on the docks that night,” Freil said boldly. “You weren’t out for a stroll.”
Silence fell.
“What?” Gabran said, shattering it. “You told them I started the fire?”
“I never mentioned the fire, did I? Now you’ve just admitted the deed!”
Just then, Sefae reared up, broke from Eaglin’s grip and ran off again. The Raven watched the stallion disappear into the dappled green, and then turned again to the men with a decidedly dangerous air. “Enough,” he said. “This is not the time or place.”
Lorth held up a hand to Eaglin and then addressed Gabran. “Why would the Aenlisarfon ask you to speak to me?”
“They commandeered my ship because of this fool,” Gabran returned, red with rage.
Freil spat a laugh. “Och! I see. You have to stand before the entire Council to get it back, don’t you? You just came up here to secure your interests.”
As this exchange unfolded, anger rose up in Tansel’s heart like the shifting beams of the Muin Waeltower. No wonder her instincts were so full of thorns. Her father hadn’t come here to see her at all. She felt hurt, angry and relieved at the same time—but that didn’t stop the words coming out of her mouth. “You utter bastard,” she said to Gabran. “I knew it!”
Gabran didn’t spare her a glance, but lunged as if to go for Freil’s throat. Lorth stepped in front of him with startling grace. As Gabran tried to push him aside, Lorth did something that resulted in the sailor sprawling to the ground. Then he drew his sword, a nasty sound that caused a shiver to race up Tansel’s spine.
Gabran jumped up and tried to attack Freil again, but this time, Eaglin said something scary in the wizard’s tongue that dropped silence on the brawl like a felled oak. Wind rose up from nowhere and howled through the forest.
Tansel didn’t bother to see what came of it. She turned and ran into the trees.
*
Indigo, green and brown rushed by as Tansel headed away from the tumult of the wizards’ row. She felt like Sefae, spooking at the slightest thing. But no wizard could speak a magic word that would bring her to hand.
Before long, hoof beats shook the earth behind her. She tripped and fell, then rolled over and rallied herself for a fight.
Freil rode up on his white horse, his hair a flaxen tangle around his face and his dark eyes crazed with concern. “Tansel,” he panted. He jumped from the saddle and came to her. “Are you all right? What’s wrong?”
A ridiculous question. “I’m not going back until he’s gone. I don’t want to see him.”
Freil held out his hand and drew her to her feet. With his other hand, he reached out and took the dangling reins of his horse. He didn’t need to ask to whom she referred. “I’m sorry about that, back there,” he said. “I lost my temper.”
“It’s all right. Just—I don’t want to go to Muin right now.”
“Very well. Where do you want to go?”
“Home.”
He nodded, but he didn’t understand. “Where is home?”
She pointed towards the Sioros Mountains in the northeast. “That way.”
With a resolute nod, he helped her onto the horse, mounted ahead of her and took the reins. His hair smelled like fresh hay. On the back of his cloak was an elegant design of ash boughs framing an osprey in flight, and a staring eye.
He urged his steed through the forest towards her old cottage. Neither of them spoke, though occasionally, Tansel guided the wizard with a word or a gesture. Though her mind was full of questions, she felt strangely numb. After a time, she did ask one thing, as she had grown tired of looking over her shoulder and listening for the sound of riders at her back. “Aren’t you worried they’ll come after us?”
Freil slowed his horse and turned his head. “I told Eaglin I’d bring you back. They’ll be too busy with your father to pursue it for a while. But Eaglin might come looking if he gathers we’re not headed for the hall.” He fell silent, then added, “Keep your eyes open for strange looking birds.”
Tansel looked at the sky. “What do you mean?”
“Eaglin is a master shapeshifter.”
She relaxed a little. “The crowharrow hurt him pretty badly. He can’t do those things right now.” She felt a stab of guilt. “I shoul
dn’t have left him.”
“Eaglin is bottomless,” he said. “Don’t worry for him.”
It was early evening when they rode into the cottage clearing. As Freil checked his horse, Tansel grabbed his arm and let herself down. The sun shone in long, golden rays through the wood but didn’t touch the cottage, cloaked in shadow. The door stood open. Not surprising: it never had closed right in the summer when the wood swelled. The place had probably been taken over by wild animals, by now.
She walked into the garden and knelt. Beneath the dried husks and bracken, new growth pushed from the roots. Some of the plants were full grown already, catching the last of the sun on fresh leaves and buds. Tansel’s heart lifted as she moved from place to place, touching a mossy patch here, a thickening bed of violets there. She leaned over and smelled things, pulled weeds and tossed dead growth into little piles.
After a time, she looked up. Freil sat on a rock near the center pool, watching her. His expression was strange, though not uncomfortable. His horse grazed nearby on what used to be a mint patch. On another day, Tansel might have intervened. But it didn’t matter anymore.
“You’re in trouble, aren’t you,” she said, straightening her back.
He laughed, but there was pain in it. “I certainly am.”
“What did you do?” She approached and lowered herself near his feet.
He gazed off into the trees. “Before he left, Eaglin asked me to find your father. I discovered that his ship was at port in Caerroth. I went to him and told him about you. He acted as if I had insulted him.”
Tansel fixed her gaze on the pool. “I might have told you that. My mother had naught nice to say about him.”
“Ay, well his manner angered me. I even told him a crowharrow had killed your mother and was after you. He cared less for that.” He straightened his back and drew a long, troubled breath. “There was a fire on the Winterscythe that night. I had reason to believe your father knew about it. I went to the Aenlisarfon and told them.”
“Who are they?”
“Ravens. There are nine of them. They watch the patterns in the world and keep balance. Master Lorth sits on the Council. I didn’t know they had seized the Winterscythe, but I know how the protocols work. Apparently, Gabran found out Lorth was on mission up here, and that I had ridden north. He shadowed me. He must have feared I would try to turn Lorth’s mind against him.”
The Winged Hunter Page 21
