by Sean Russell
Erasmus glanced back at Hayes and Kehler, both of whom looked a little ill.
The priest motioned them close in order that he could speak low. “The smoke appears at the head of this small hill, so it is not far. Even so, she will hear our approach if we go on horseback. Yet if we slip forward quietly on foot and she perceives us, she will mount her horse and flee, and we’ll be left foolishly on foot.
“What we have decided is to go forward at the gallop, and though she will likely take to her horse, we will ride her down. There are five of us, after all.”
Rose looked at Hayes and Kehler, who did not respond with even a nod. “Let Pryor and me do your work for you,” Rose said to them. “We will dirty our hands, for after what was done to his brother, Pryor has no doubt of her character.” He turned back to Erasmus. “I have taken the necessary precautions, for she has some skill in the arts, and perhaps more, now. But when we run her to ground, let me approach her first. Let her not practice upon you with the skill of her tongue, for she will say anything to save herself, and she will happily slit any throat that she might go free.” He looked up at the two younger men. “Will you ride with us, or will you let us sully our hands to save your necks, brave lads that you are?”
“No,” Kehler said, glaring at Rose. “I will not let another commit the crime that saves my life. And as nothing short of your murder will stop you, I am bound to be part of the crime.”
Rose met the eyes of the two young men who sat their horses, staring down at him with obvious dislike. “It is often that men do evil, believing that they do good,” the priest said, “but it is less common that men do good believing it to be evil. Even so, this is such a case, it seems, for the woman is a threat to all that you know. In years to come, you will understand that this is so.”
He looked back to Erasmus who, feeling no more confident than Kehler and Hayes, nodded his head. Bryce would have his revenge at last. A revenge of fire.
They fell in behind the priest, and in a moment found Pryor, hidden in a thick stand of pines. They each took a moment to tighten saddle girths, and then, at a nod from Deacon Rose, they set off at a gallop up the narrow path between the hills.
As they crested the rise, Erasmus heard the priest shout, spurring his horse on. Determined that Pryor and Rose would not do Anna harm before she was delivered to Eldrich, Erasmus forced his tired horse forward, clods of the forest floor flying all around him.
In a moment they swept past the fire, glimpses of a rough camp, horses dancing on tethers. And then they were into a thicker wood, jumping a fallen trunk, branches snatching at their faces and tearing clothing. Hooves pummeled the fragile earth. The scene passed more quickly than perception.
A terrible scream—Anna. Horses in panic; Rose bellowing to stop.
Erasmus pulled his horse up sharp, and for the first time heard the sounds of water. Then he felt the dampness. He was off his horse before Hayes and Kehler appeared, racing along the path.
Even on foot he almost went off the edge. There he could see a horse slashing the surface with its hooves, in the grip of the current, dark against the poisonous green.
Rose stood a few feet away, his face ashen. He clutched one hand to his heart and with the other he steadied himself by a ridiculously inadequate branch.
Erasmus shouted back to the others as he heard their horses coming, then slowing suddenly.
“Pryor?”
“He went over, as did my own horse after him. I still don’t know how Farrelle preserved me. I don’t know.”
Erasmus saw a flash of dark movement in the roiling waters and without hesitation dove toward the deepest green.
It seemed like an infinite time that he was in the air. Below him he saw a horse swept, thrashing, into the torrent, engulfed in white. A kingfisher plunged into the pool, the sun catching its jeweled feathers.
And then he hit the cold water, the impact driving the breath from his lungs. For a moment he hung there, suspended in thickened green light, gliding slowly down. And then he forced himself to swim. His head broke the surface, and flicking the water from his face, Erasmus bobbed up, searching around. Someone shouted from above, but his words tumbled into the torrent and were swept away.
On the cliff above, figures pointed, but it was impossible to see where. He swam farther out and then realized that the current was sweeping him toward the pool’s edge. He struck out strongly at a diagonal, aiming for an eddy which curled behind an egg of rock. But the flow was stronger than he realized, and in a moment he was at the lip, then falling again, plunged down into the depths, a weight of water on top of him. A moment later he was mysteriously on the surface, gasping for air.
Erasmus realized that he would find Pryor only by a miracle. Best not to fight the current, for it no doubt swept Pryor away, and would spin him to the surface again. And Anna. Where was she? Had they accomplished Eldrich’s aim, hardly intending to? Was the last follower of Teller gone from this earth?
The current carried him forward quickly now, into foaming and confused waters. He fought to keep the surface, but was dragged under, and battered against rock. Twisting and tumbling, he struggled for air. Just a mouthful here, and then another. Just enough to live. Again he struck stone, and felt the cold river close over him, a muted roaring driving out all else. And then silence.
* * *
* * *
Hayes ran along the cliff top, trying to keep Erasmus in view, but in a hundred feet the cliff had been cut back in a deep V and by the time he had found his way past this obstacle, Erasmus was gone. There was no sign of horse or man. Pryor, gone. Anna not to be seen. And Erasmus last seen struggling to keep his head up in the world of light and air.
“Can you see them?” Kehler called, coming along behind.
“No one,” Hayes hollered above the river sound.
A moment later Kehler appeared at his side, panting, and the two stood, looking down into the chasm, searching for people they knew were gone. Down the river. Alive still, perhaps, but swept away and quickly tiring.
“If Erasmus can find a rock to climb onto . . .” Kehler said at last.
“Yes,” Hayes whispered, “we can hope. Could Pryor swim, do you think?”
Kehler considered for a moment, as though trying to remember if this had been mentioned. “I doubt it. So few can: only Erasmus out of all the souls I know.”
Hayes nodded. “But what of Anna? She survived the cave. Perhaps she can stay afloat.”
“Perhaps, but then, we survived the cave, and neither of us can swim a stroke. Or at least I can’t claim to. No, it is likely that we have seen the end of the Tellerites. Deacon Rose and Eldrich will be pleased. I am sorry for poor Pryor. Both brothers gone over this woman.”
“Yes, and we’re alive.” Hayes sat down suddenly on the bank. “Alive and done with the mage, or so I hope. All I want is life to return to normal. I would welcome a creditor or two, now. They no longer seem much of a threat.”
Rose came up then, his customary vigor having returned, though he was surprisingly subdued. “Is there no sign of Mr. Flattery?”
Neither answered nor looked at the man, then Hayes relented and shook his head.
Clarendon hailed them. The small man was limping along the cliff top, and as they came up they could see that he was bleeding from a cut on his skull, and looked shaken.
“Randall, what’s happened?”
“I was thrown from my horse, but never mind. Where is Mr. Flattery? Where is Pryor?”
“Pryor and his horse followed Anna into the gorge. Erasmus dove in thinking to save the boy. And all of them have been swept away out of sight. Only Erasmus was still on the surface when last we saw.”
Clarendon slumped down onto the ground, looking dazed.
“Randall, you’re injured.”
The small man did not respond. “It is what Eldrich does. Steals away peo
ple’s lives. I curse him. I curse the day he was born into this world, for surely it must have been foreseen that he would feed upon men like a wolf among lambs.”
* * *
* * *
A slow, rhythmic slap of water. The sea speaking along the shore. Erasmus opened his eyes to see a rippling pattern of light sprayed over a dark surface. He felt a chill in his back.
“Erasmus?”
A face came into view, hovering over him, long tendrils of hair tumbling down to touch his cheek.
“Erasmus?”
“Anna . . . I’m cold.”
She nodded. “Can you try to sit?”
He was not sure. Lying still felt so good—but for the chill.
“You’re lying in an inch of river water. Come sit up. I will help.”
She tugged at his arms, and with surprisingly little effort he came upright.
“It is warming a little as the sun finds its way into the gorge.” She stared at him a moment, her look very pensive. “I fished you out,” she said. “Plucked you from the waters though it will mean the end of my scheme. Two horses passed but no riders, until you came.”
“Pryor,” Erasmus said. “He plunged in behind you. Rose lost his horse but managed to save himself.”
“And you dove in nobly after this man Pryor,” she said. “It is so like you, Erasmus.”
“Pryor’s brother was your guide,” Erasmus said. His wits were coming back a little.
Anna looked intently into his eyes then nodded, looking quickly away. “Yes,” she whispered. “I thought I could be as terrible and pitiless as Eldrich. But I have a conscience, after all.” She looked down, her hands still supporting him unnecessarily. “I hoped that no one would be hurt. That only I would go into the gorge, and all others would be spared.”
“And we would think you dead?”
She nodded. “Yes, and perhaps you would not have been wrong. It is only a miracle that I survived, let alone found you.”
“A desperate measure, Anna.”
“Yes. But what choice had I? Eldrich would pursue me to my death, or leave others to do so. It was one thing to hide from him when he did not know where to begin searching. But to elude him now . . . now that he knows who I am—It is near to impossible. He is stronger than we realized. Stronger and more cunning.”
Erasmus looked around. They were on a flat ledge of rock beneath an overhang of stone, hidden to anyone on the cliff top. “How long have we been down here?”
“A few hours now. Three, perhaps four. I have not heard your friends for some time.”
The slapping of water against stone, here where the river ran quiet.
Erasmus stretched, assuring himself that he was whole, and though he was much battered, no serious damage seemed to have been accomplished. “I will tell you true, Anna, though I owe you my life, I cannot lie to Eldrich. He will know.”
She nodded, pulling her knees up into the circle of her arms, and laying the side of her head down upon her arm. Erasmus thought she did not look so drained now—as though life were being restored to her.
The king’s blood, he realized.
She raised her head again, looking at him intently. “You can escape Eldrich,” she said. “Escape him finally. They will soon give us up for dead, if they haven’t already. I can hide us. Hide us from the arts of Eldrich.” She reached out and grasped Erasmus’ arm. “Even now he does not know if I live or die. But if he believes me dead—us dead—then he will pass through and leave no heir to his knowledge. We will be free of him. You will be free of him.”
“I can never be free,” Erasmus said.
“But you can. The others will report you dead, and I will hide you from his arts. We will slip out of Farrland and live quietly until he has passed through. It can be done, Erasmus.”
Erasmus looked at her, at the hope in her eyes. “And what will we do then? It is the belief of the mages that their arts must pass away. That some cataclysm will result if this is not done.”
“Even the mages did not agree on this, Erasmus, but the dissenters were overruled by the others, who were stronger if not more numerous.” The light went out of her eyes suddenly, and she looked very sad. “But I will tell you true, Erasmus, I am no longer so certain that the arts should be kept alive. The cost has been so great. I only know that I am not willing to die so that Eldrich can assure this. Let us survive Eldrich, and then we will see. I have some skill at augury. If the mages’ vision was true, then I, too, will find it in time.”
“That is not the sworn purpose of your society,” Erasmus said.
She rested her cheek back upon her arm. “There is no society. Only me.” She laughed bitterly. “Is it not ironic that the moment Teller’s dream is finally within reach—for I have Landor’s seed and ample talent as well—his only remaining follower is no longer sure of his dream.” She laughed again. “Certainly he did not foresee that. Nor did Eldrich. I have but one ambition now. Escape Eldrich and die of old age—and not a moment before.” Anna fixed her sad gaze on Erasmus.
“The arts are passing, Erasmus, whether Eldrich succeeds or not. No, that is inaccurate. It is the power that is waning. Do you remember the seven touching worlds depicted in the cave? The ancients believed that the power, the power the arts draw upon, moved through the worlds like a tide, ebbing and flowing over the ages. The power is ebbing now. That is the truth of it. That is why the mages seemed less skilled from one generation to the next, whereas in truth they were likely more skilled, but the power they drew upon grew weaker.”
“If this is so, then why would Eldrich care about erasing the knowledge of the mages? Why would it matter?”
She shrugged. “Their vision—of the cataclysm. Perhaps it is closer than we realize. Perhaps it is predicted before the tides have ebbed altogether. Farrelle predicted an apocalypse as well, and Pelier painted at least one canvas that is said to depict this final battle. Who knows, other than Eldrich—and the mage might not even know, for he is following a course set by others.”
Erasmus stared up at the patterns of reflected light on the ceiling of stone. A breeze flooded down the gorge, causing him to shiver. “We will be cold here tonight,” he said, not sure that he’d really made a decision. He needed more time to think.
To be free of Eldrich!
“We will have to stay close,” Anna said, “but you are right. We daren’t go out by darkness. Nor can we risk the others seeing us. How will they proceed, do you think?”
Erasmus considered a moment. Rose would want to be thorough—as certain that Anna was dead as he could be.
“They will look for us, either alive or dead. They will search along the cliff top—for not less than a day, I think, even though a few hours will really tell the tale. Certainly it will not occur to them that we are hiding here. Did you know of this place?”
“No. It was luck only, if one believes in luck. I had counted on being swept down the river. I have a map that shows the end of the gorge not far off. I hoped to crawl out there, if still alive, and hide myself until you were satisfied that I had not survived.” She reached down and made a pattern on the surface of the water with one finger. “There is a ritual that we must perform this night. A rite that will hide us from Eldrich’s prying eyes, for he seeks us with augury and much else besides.”
“And where will we go?”
“Have you yet a house on Farrow?”
“Yes, but the island is so small. We would not be there two days before everyone would know. No, it will not answer. Into Entonne and down into Doom. We might find a boat and live among the string of islands beyond where only the fishermen and sparmen go.”
Anna nodded. A black bird fluttered down from above, landing in the inch of water, into which it dipped a blood-red bill.
“Chuff!” Anna said, brightening a little.
Erasmus looked at the bird a momen
t before realizing. He turned to stare at Anna. She almost looked guilty in the face of this.
“When did this happen?” he said.
Anna nodded. “He awaited me outside the cave and has followed me since.”
“Then you have taken the seed?”
She nodded. “I would not have survived the cave without it. After Banks was drowned.” She looked up at him oddly.
Erasmus felt his eyes close as a memory returned. “Rose got free and broke down the dam. Was Banks caught in that terrible shaft?”
“In the small tunnel at the bottom. Such a flood of water came down. Banks all but filled the passage, blocking the flow. I could not get him out until after the water had drained away. He was so close. Only a few feet more and he would have . . . lived.”
Erasmus touched her arm. “Rose caught us by surprise. We would never have let him destroy the dam. No one but the priest wished you ill.”
She did not shake his arm off, but looked at him somewhat coldly. “But you have hunted me from Castlebough.”
Erasmus removed his hand, letting it drop into the cold water. “Yes. Though with little will. Eldrich sent a messenger. . . . We sought you under threat and with the assurance that you would cause immeasurable evil even if that was not your intent.”
“Ah,” she said, staring off into the gorge, where the last light of evening lit green ferns growing from the blank wall. They moved moodily in the breeze.
“Is it true, I wonder?” Anna asked. “Or is it merely another lie from the mage—who has no particular allegiance to the truth.”
Erasmus could not answer. Was she really suffering such doubt, or was Rose right when he warned them not to listen to her—that she would say anything? But she had saved his life. Pulled him from the river and certain death.
“Why did you save me?” Erasmus asked in a whisper.
Anna did not answer for a moment.
“Because too many have died. I cannot live at such cost. Better to die than to become like Eldrich. Better to die.”
