“What of that weasel that was among us?” came the duke’s voice from behind them.
It took the prince a moment to realize what he was talking about. And then he spoke the name aloud. “Lyn. I had completely forgotten about him. Where did he go? Was he killed in the first attack.”
Thimeon shook his head. “I think not. He abandoned us just before the battle—slipped away and disappeared when we approached Gale Enebe. I had also forgotten about him myself.”
“I don’t suppose it matters,” the prince said. “He is strong. I’ve seen that. But he doesn’t have half the courage of Jhonna or Siyen. As for any useful skill, he has yet to prove it. He was more likely to prove a burden than a help.”
“That may be true,” the duke said. “But I’m worried that he may betray us. I didn’t tell you earlier because I am not sure myself, but I thought I recognized his face from Citadel. He looks remarkably like a man I saw weeks earlier meeting with Golach.”
“You did recognize him,” came an unexpected voice. Dhan turned to see that Kayam had ridden up behind them and was listening to their conversation. The rough old guard had fought bravely the evening before, and had done his share of work throughout the journey. Nonetheless he had remained quiet since leaving Citadel and had kept to himself or to the company of Lyn or Siyen. A commoner and hired soldier, he seemed intimidated by so many officers and nobility. “He’s a mercenary,” Kayam said in a quiet voice. “Worse than me. I admitted that Siyen and I entered the castle to rob the ancient treasure chamber and not to rescue you. Even so, we never would have betrayed you even if we had not come along on this journey.”
“I don’t doubt your loyalty,” the prince interrupted. “Already I am indebted to you.”
Kayam stared uncomfortably down at his saddle. Siyen, who had ridden up along with Kayam, picked up the conversation. “It was Lyn we came to speak to you about. We thought maybe you had forgotten about him already. But we noticed when he left us. We’re afraid it’s more than cowardice. Maybe he’s looking to turn us in for money.”
“You’re right,” Thimeon said. Siyen looked at him in surprise at the bluntness and assurance in his voice, but he continued. “You may be wrong about money. I think there is another motive. But you are right in guessing he has betrayed us. He was the spy that Luban warned us of back in Kreana, and he has attempted to betray us since then, too.”
“Are you sure?” the prince asked “I took him for a whining coward, but no more. If he’s betrayed us—? Well, it could be disastrous. If you knew, why didn’t you say anything?”
“I dont know for sure. I’ve been guessing. But I have little doubt.”
“It could spell trouble for us,” Dhan said, shaking his head. “I wish you had warned me. I suppose it’s too late to do anything now.”
“Maybe not,” Thimeon answered.
7
OPEN AIR
This is the door out. We have made it.
Those were Braga’s words, but Elynna stood staring at the solid rock wall blocking their path, and she saw no sign of a door. Her heart was pounding. Was it hope or fear?
“How do you open it?” Bandor asked. He was in the front of their group, pressing in around the door alongside Braga, Amark, Cathros, and Elynna. The rest of the company was spread out along the passage behind them.
“I don’t know,” Braga answered.
Elynna’s heart sank. She thought of the long journey they had taken, and what it would mean if they had to turn around and retrace their steps. Death and defeat. But Braga did not appear worried. He stood staring at the door for several minutes, while the two remaining torches flickered and the air grew smoky. Finally, he just reached out his hand and pushed.
To Elynna’s surprise, the rock wall began to swing outward. An icy blast of wind gusted into the tunnel blowing out the torches, even as daylight streamed into the darkness. Elynna stumbled out into the fresh air as a cheer rose up from behind her.
When her eyes adjusted to the afternoon light of an overcast winter day, Elynna found that she stood high on the side of a steep snowy slope looking over a vast mountainous wilderness. While the rest of her company filed out behind her into the cold mountain air, she scanned the horizon. She was facing northeast. A little to her right, the massive slope of Illengond dominated the horizon. Though the rest of the sky was blue, its triune peak was crowned in its own shroud of high clouds. She turned to the left. Due north, between the gaps in the hills, she could see bays and inlets of a large lake disappearing into the distance.
“Uustgond,” said Braga, who came up beside her and stood surveying the same scene. “That is the Undeani name for that lake. The Andani have a different name. There are no other lakes like it in Gondisle. Or so I have been told.”
Elynna nodded. She continued to scan the horizon. Far to the west, another range of mountains ran mostly north-south along the edge of the highlands. She had a vague idea that beyond those peaks the land fell away steeply. Several thousand feet below them lay her homeland, the Westwash. Behind where they had emerged from the caverns, a steep slope deep with snow rose up toward a high ridgeline.
She turned back to Braga. “What day is this?”
Braga looked down at his hands, now wrapped in gloves. He lifted his eyes again. “It is nine more days until blue moon marks the start of the ninth month. The sun has set and risen three times since we went below ground.”
“How far have we come?” Bandor asked. He was looking back to the west toward the range of rugged peaks.
“You now stand more than forty miles northeast of where we found you,” Braga answered. “Our feet have walked closer to sixty.”
“Forty miles is not far for three days of travel,” Cathros said. “Our enemy could easily have covered more in the same time.”
“We traveled beneath mountains that cannot be crossed in the winter,” Braga replied. “Even in the summer, they are wild and difficult. The soldiers would have had to go two times as far over difficult terrain to keep up. And even if they have traveled so far, how will they find us?”
Elynna’s sense of distance had improved over the past year. She had some idea how far a person might travel on foot in a day by road, or through woods, or across mountains. But their proximity to Mount Illengond gave her the clearest sense of how far they had come. She was the closest she had been to the mountain since leaving Aeti many weeks earlier when they had headed south searching for what they thought was a lone Daegmon in the Ceadani highlands. That was before the avalanche, and before the battle at Gale Enebe. Before they had been taken prisoner. Before Thimeon had left. Before Cane had died.
Those memories flashed through her mind, but Elynna resisted dwelling on them. After being underground for so long, it felt good to be in the sunshine again. All around her, the companions were breathing deeply of the cool mountain air. The usually silent Namha, who by the vow of the Amanti could speak no language but his own, stood with face in the sun and his arms stretched outward, softly chanting a joyful melody.
The tiger took off loping down the hill, pausing periodically to roll in the snow, before disappearing into the woods.
Elynna, an urgent voice called. Elynna spun to look for the speaker. Nobody was looking at her. Elynna… hear me… The voice came from far away, like a faint echo off the hills. A girl’s voice. Elynna spun around again, still searching. And then she realized it was Cathwain, the girl from Gale Enebe, speaking again. She had not heard the voice since they had left the Plains.
Mount Illengond… The voice continued in her head. Elynna strove to hear it. But unlike before, she struggled to make out the words. Only fragments of thoughts reached her mind. It was like trying to hear a voice in a crowded market in Citadel. Meet us there… Thimeon… new weapon… the stone.
“Cathwain,” Elynna called aloud. Braga and Cathros looked at her in confusion. “Cathwain,” Elynna calle
d again. There was no reply. The voice had fallen silent.
“What is it?” Cathros asked, concern in his face.
Elynna felt her chest tighten with a pang of guilt. “Cathwain. The young girl from Gale Enebe.” The one who called to me for help, she almost added. The one I didn’t listen to. “She is calling to me again.”
“For help?” Cathros asked.
“No. I don’t think so. Not this time. It seemed more like—like she was trying to tell me something.”
“I didn’t hear anything,” Braga said.
“What did she say?” Cathros asked.
“Something about Mount Illengond. Something urgent. But I don’t know—.”
“Are we supposed to go there?” Bandor asked.
“Or maybe stay away from it?” Cathros countered.
“I don’t know. She said something about the stone. And Thimeon.”
Now Tienna stepped forward. Her eyes were narrow with concern. “What about Thimeon? Is he alive? Did he succeed?”
Elynna could only shake her head. “I don’t know. I had a difficult time understanding. There was other noise. Like wind or voices or echoes. It was hard to hear.”
“Explain to me,” Braga said. “Do you hear voices that others cannot hear?”
Tienna answered for Elynna. “It is a gift—a special power. Not belonging to Elynna but to another young woman. A young Ceadani woman named Cathwain. She is able to speak over great distances.”
“I could not hear,” Braga said.
“You do not hear this voice with your ears. You hear with your mind. If she was speaking to Elynna, only Elynna would hear.”
Braga’s eyes narrowed. “Do others of you have such powers?”
Cathros answered. “Yes. We call them gifts. There are several of us among the gifted. Not with the power to speak to minds far away. That gift belongs to the Ceadani woman alone, as far as we know. But other gifts. Abilities that do not come from any practiced skill. These gifts brought us together to fight the Daegmon. You have already seen one in Tienna’s healing of the tiger. She can taste health like you taste food, and she is able to heal those who are wounded—though it very exhausting for her. Elynna also has a gift. She can tell when the Daegmons are approaching. And Noab and Noaem are gifted as well. Noaem can understand the speech of animals. And Cane my brother—” His face suddenly darkened and he did not finish.
Braga looked at Cathros for a minute. Then he turned and called something out in the Undeani tongue. Breanga answered him. Braga spoke again in his own language. Breanga nodded. He walked over to the edge of the clearing where several tall evergreens stood leaning outward. He snapped off a large dead branch from near the bottom of the tree and approached.
Braga turned to the companions, who were now gathered around wondering what he was doing. “Watch,” Braga said.
Breanga held the branch in his hand and hummed a soft tune. As he hummed, his hands moved along the wood. At first nothing happened. Then Elynna noticed the branch changing shape. It seemed to be alive, growing in his hand, bending to the touch of his fingers. He moved his hands more swiftly, molding the wood as a child might shape snow into snow-figures, or as a potter might shape clay on a wheel. Elynna was so fascinated by the process she didn’t notice until he was done what he had formed. Breanga held an elaborate wooden carving of an antlered elk-head. Yet not carved, for no knife had touched the wood nor had the bark been removed. It looked as though the tree had simply grown into the shape.
“The type of wood does not matter,” Braga said. “He has done the same with the beech and all the hard nut trees of the lower lands as well as with the soft needled trees. We do not know how it is done. He does not know himself. He discovered his ability by accident. We do not know any use for this—you called it a gift? No use except for the shaping of beautiful things. He cannot heal the sick, nor can he fight the Daegmon with this.”
Tienna shook her head. “I wonder. In the end, beauty may be more important for our healing than anything I can do to heal the body.”
Braga shrugged.
“Are there others among your people with powers such as this?” Elynna asked. “Not just the shaping of wood, but other abilities.”
Braga shook his head slowly. “There were a few. They are gone now.”
Gone? Elynna wondered. She was almost too afraid to ask. “Gone where?”
“Killed or imprisoned,” Braga replied. “It started almost two years ago, after the one they call the Gaergaen came among the Undeani. He had strange powers himself—powers we did not understand. At first he used them for our benefit. He delved the mountain near one of our villages and in a short time found gems and precious stones the likes of which the Undeani had never seen. A few of our people became rich. Others were drawn by the allure of riches. Next he made for us weapons that were stronger and sharper than those we had been able to make before. ‘For what do we need such weapons?’ I asked him, but he did not answer. I was wary of him, but others of the Undeani took him as their leader. One or two of my people became very powerful through him.”
“You mean Creagon,” Cathros said, his voice sharp with bitterness and grief. “The chieftain of the village that betrayed us.”
“Yes,” Braga confirmed. “Creagon became the Gaergaen’s chief servant. But he was not his only servant. After he spent several months with Creagon’s people, the Gaergaen began to travel to other villages. He was looking for others like himself who had special powers. That was his claim.”
An unwanted memory flashed across Elynna’s mind of the Daegmon attack on her own village two years earlier. “The Gaergaen was looking for the gifted,” she said softly. “He came to destroy them.”
“Yes,” Braga said in a sad voice. “But even among those who distrusted him, few guessed just how great his wickedness was. We thought only that he was exploiting them. He said he could train them to use their powers, and that he would make them rich—that he would make us all rich. Many Undeani followed him—”
“What gifts did he find?” Elynna interrupted. More than just her mood had grown dark. Her spine tingled and her face was white. At Braga’s news, images of the Daegmons began to fill her mind. “What types of powers did he find?”
“There were many. One in Creagon’s village could read the weather and tell from which direction the wind would blow on the morrow. Another, who lived in the mountains to the west, could speak with birds. One living in the south of our land could understand the languages of men without learning them.” Braga’s voice grew more sober. “There was a man in my village named Gorrama, a kin of Regon. He could cast his thoughts into the mind of another. I mean, he could speak to you without words whether you were near to him or far away. I thought of him when Elynna said she had heard a voice. I wondered—I hoped, though I had little reason for such hoping—if perhaps it was Gorrama who was calling. But I fear he is dead, along with the others who had these powers you call gifts. We don’t know for sure. We have not seen their bodies. But they all disappeared. The Gaergaen said they had gone to Citadel to see the king, but nobody saw them leave.”
“The Gaergaen is kin with the Daegmons,” Tienna explained. “They are the enemies of Gondisle. They seek to enslave us all. That is why they are out to destroy those who are gifted, so that we will not stand in their way. They fear—”
“The Daegmon,” Elynna suddenly yelled. Why had it taken her so long to recognize the feelings? “It is coming!”
8
UNTIL HELP COMES
It began as a mere premonition, a dark mood that came upon her after hearing from Braga how the Gaergaen had deceived the Undeani people. Or so she thought. But then came the odor only she could smell, the sensation she had not felt since they had gone below ground three days ago. And she understood. This was more than just a mood.
“The Daegmon,” she cried. “It is coming!”
The Plains huntress looked into Elynna’s eyes, then turned and looked toward the skies. “Where is it? Is it attacking?” she asked.
Elynna took a deep breath and tried to gather herself. The Daegmon’s thoughts had touched hers for only a few seconds. She had felt enough to know it was coming, and to taste their enemy’s malice. But was it coming to attack, or only searching for her? “I don’t know,” she replied aloud. “It—it knows where I am. It’s coming here.”
“Back into the mountain,” Bandor yelled. “Hide.”
Elynna nodded. She turned toward the mouth of the cave from which they had just emerged. To her horror, the cave was gone. The rock door had swung shut and there was no sign of it. They were staring at the blank face of a cliff. Cathros ran to where the door had been and began to feel with his fingers. Bandor was at his side in an instant, along with Aram, Nahoon, and Lluach.
“Stop,” Braga yelled. “You will not find it.” He turned to his people and shouted something in their tongue. Then he turned back to Elynna. “We have seen doors like these. They were made long ago with a skill we have not yet discovered. They can only be opened from the inside. They were not made to be discovered.”
Elynna looked up above the door at the slope, steep and heavy with snow. Her thoughts flashed back to the avalanche the Daegmon had started in the Ceadani mountains, almost crushing her entire company. She fought her rising panic. “We must get away,” she said.
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