Elyana smiled at sight of him. Vallyn had grown out of his gawky youth during the years he'd adventured at her side. He'd never been especially tall, and he'd broadened further in the intervening years, but judging by the way the women watched him as he moved through the dancers, they found him as handsome as ever. The gray flecking his brown beard and temples suggested a roguish wisdom.
Vallyn laughed at sight of her and opened his arms. She threw herself into the embrace with a grin.
"Hah!" he said, then continued in a smooth, calm voice as he pulled away, smiling up at her. "You're just as lovely as ever! What brings you here?"
"We need rooms and victuals," Elyana answered. "My friends are already tired of my cooking."
"Fed them once, did you?" He laughed again. "Come on, then. Any friends of Elyana's are friends of mine! Welcome to the finest tavern in all Tregan!"
Drelm grunted, which Elyana thought might have meant anything, but Vallyn read it as skepticism.
"That's a more impressive credit than it may seem, friend," Vallyn said, waggling his finger toward the half-orc. "The village is settled by Galtans, who have discriminating palates, and ask much of their chefs. If only," he added sadly to Elyana, "we had better wine."
Vallyn put them up in a two-room suite complete with tasseled draperies with gold-filigreed edgings. The four-poster bed frames were made of brass, and the pillows stuffed with goose feathers.
"You'd be surprised at the comforts some people flee with," Vallyn said, dismissing their astonished murmurs with a careless wave.
Vallyn spoke lightly to them all until servants arrived with an expansive meal featuring roast pheasant and potatoes, then motioned for Elyana to follow. She bade her companions farewell and left with her friend.
On the table awaiting them in Vallyn's wood-paneled sitting room she found nuts, berries, and boar meat slices so pink they were almost raw. Vallyn knew her preferences. She set to with undisguised pleasure while Vallyn watched with an amiable smile, sipping wine from a high-lipped glass.
She ate quickly, all the time scanning the room. It was hard not to notice that this room too was expensively furnished, from the writing desk with elaborate scrollwork to the dragon-headed curtain rod finials that looked down with staring eyes. The paneled door that presumably led to Vallyn's own bedchamber had been skillfully carved with mirrored leaf patterns.
The music below carried on merrily, though it was dulled by the wood through which it passed. The music and the stamp of dancers set the floorboards vibrating. She found her own foot tapping in sympathetic time, and she smiled.
"It is good to see you," Vallyn said.
His voice was even richer than she had remembered. But then he had been practicing his craft for twenty years; undoubtedly he'd gotten better since their wandering days.
"And you have done well for yourself," she replied. "That, too, is good to see."
Vallyn shrugged. "Folk still pay well for being smuggled from Galt. There aren't so many nobles left now, as you'd guess, but the mob's always ready to turn against some new faction." He gestured to the room at large. "Some of this is paid for; some of it was gifted to me by folk grateful to be alive."
"Have the Gray Gardeners come with any gifts?"
Vallyn snorted. "If you mean assassins' blades, there have been a few. Praise Calistria, they're too busy running their miserable country to worry much about me." He placed both elbows on the table and rested his chin on his hands, drawing down his heavy eyebrows. He studied her in silence for a long moment. "You're going to go back in, aren't you." It was not a question.
She nodded once.
"Even I'm not crazy enough to cross over the border much anymore. Mostly I sponsor other folk these days."
"Are you getting too old?" She followed this up with a thin smile.
"Huh! I'm as fit as a man half my age. Well, two-thirds my age. But I'll tell you something, Elyana, I'm a lot more fond of my skin than I used to be, and I mind more when I bleed. The Gray Gardeners play for keeps."
"I need your help," Elyana said. "For Stelan's sake."
"I'd noticed he wasn't here. I could've guessed that lad was his son, though. Practically a spitting image. So where's his old man?"
"He's in bed in Adrast, and he won't be getting up unless we find something for him."
"What is it?" Vallyn leaned forward, his brow furrowing. "How bad is he?"
"There's something Arcil used to talk about. The Crown of Twilight. It has powers over life and death. Stelan needs its curative powers."
"I'd be worried about anything that caught Arcil's interest. The Crown of Twilight, huh?" Vallyn's glance traveled down to the silverware beside Elyana's empty plate. "That table knife has powers over life and death. Don't be so prosaic."
"I thought bards liked that sort of thing."
"What does it do, really?"
"It will clear Stelan of a curse."
"Is it valuable?"
"I should imagine."
Vallyn mulled that over for a short while. "Is it a little valuable, or a lot valuable?"
She repressed a smile. It was typical of Vallyn to ask. "It's pledged already to the church of Abadar."
"Who pledged it? You?" At her nod he sighed. "You've already sold off your profit to the clerics?"
"The thing's in a tower. I'm guessing that there's more to be had inside than just the crown."
"Let me guess. Shadow magic, right? And hard knocks, and things that are trying to kill you."
"Probably."
Vallyn's chair creaked as he sat back. "I hoped to be through with shadows. They remind me of Arcil."
It was as good a time as any to tell him the rest. "Arcil's the one who cursed Stelan. He wanted the map to the crown and Stelan wouldn't give it to him."
"Damn ...Arcil tried to kill Stelan? I never thought he'd take it that far."
"Why does that surprise you? You know he didn't like Stelan."
"Any fool could see that. He didn't like anyone but you, Elyana."
"He liked Edak."
"Whom he killed," the bard pointed out. "He probably liked Eriah, too. Arcil knew killing Stelan would anger you, or he'd have done it years ago. You ever notice that he only watched his temper when he was afraid you'd be upset?"
She wasn't sure that was quite right. "You're simplifying."
"You and Stelan made too many excuses for him for too long. He went bad long before you ever admitted it. You're the only thing that kept him with us that last year."
She'd heard Vallyn say that before, and didn't want to revisit the counterarguments. "Whatever the case, he's cursed Stelan, and this is the one way to save him. The clerics can't remove the curse. I know western Galt well enough, but you know it in more recent years. And I would be grateful for your eyes and ears in the tower. You were the handiest man I ever met with barriers and locks."
"I knew it was coming to this."
The eyes that considered Elyana now were much like those of her old friend's, but they studied her with abstract intensity, as if the mind behind them were gauging sums and weighing bars of gold.
"This crown," he said slowly, "is there any chance we can give these clerics something else? Treasures that equal its price, say?"
"I already agreed to the crown."
Vallyn smiled sadly and shook his head. "I thought you knew to leave all the bargaining to me. You've no sense of worth."
"Are you in, Vallyn? For Stelan?"
"Tell me about the lot you have with you. Is Renar any good?"
"Strong and fast. But he's unseasoned. Drelm—"
"The orc," Vallyn said with disdain.
"Half-orc. He's strong and sturdy."
"You can tell by looking at him that he's stubborn and mulish. And probably foul-
tempered to boot."
For all that Elyana was inclined to agree about Drelm's stubbornness, she said nothing to confirm the bard's opinion. "He's Stelan's chosen captain of the guard."
"Really?" Vallyn's eyebrows shot up. "I can't say I should be surprised. He kept Arcil around for years. Why not an orc?"
"Half-orc."
"Sure. So now he uses a half-orc. And you're all right with that?"
"He's good in a fight."
"So you don't trust him."
"I barely know him. He takes my orders and is good in a fight. That's what I need." She didn't add that she felt like Drelm was a poorly trained game hound, ever ready to strain against the leash and tear off to do what he wished rather than what his master desired. She was trying to build a fighting unit, and she'd be a fool to divide it before it was even assembled.
Vallyn studied her for a long moment. She wondered if he could tell that she was concealing her opinion.
But the bard changed subjects. "What about the wizard? He looks like a country bumpkin."
"He's better than he looks. He's smart."
Vallyn smiled. "You need me because your team's stacked with amateurs."
"I need you in any case, Vallyn. For Stelan."
"All right," he said soberly. "I'm in. For Stelan." Then, almost as an afterthought, he added: "And an equal share of whatever else is in the tower."
Chapter Seven
Detours
Elyana dearly wanted to remain at rest in the feather bed, but she forced herself into motion as she heard a rooster crow. Every day, every hour, was counting against Stelan. She wasn't entirely convinced that the cleric and his acolytes had the skill and stamina to keep Stelan going, and there was the added wrinkle that broth and water would have to be spooned carefully into his mouth to keep up his energy. He would be growing slowly weaker.
At dawn, the others found her already awake with Vallyn and helping to supervise the packing of supplies. The bard explained that he didn't want to subject them to any more of Elyana's cooking, so he was bringing plenty of food he himself could prepare.
A half-hour after breakfast they were on the road. Vallyn guided them northeast, where, he assured them, they'd be less likely to meet with a patrol than they were on a straight east jaunt, where lazier smugglers and refugees were apt to cross.
Kellius had a violet petunia in his cap, and reported that he had rarely seen one of such a bright color. Vallyn then set to asking the mage questions about flowers and gardens, and the young wizard expounded upon them for almost an hour, demonstrating more expertise than Elyana had expected. Drelm, of course, remained quiet. If anything, though, Renar looked more suspicious than the half-orc, and Elyana could get nothing out of him. Finally, Vallyn announced to them all that they'd crossed over from the plains of Taldor to Galt.
"How do you know?" the young man asked.
"See that mountain to the north?"
Renar followed the bard's pointing finger to a snow-topped peak thrusting toward the clouds.
"I mark it."
"That's Mount Rein. Our angle's passed far enough that we're over now, you can be sure. Not that a Galtan patrol wouldn't chase you past the border if they didn't like your look, mind you. Or send something worse after—eh, Elyana?"
"True."
"Why are the Galtans so ...mad?" Renar asked.
Vallyn answered before Elyana. "They're not mad, boy. They're angry."
"Well, they seem mad. First they kill their rightful rulers. Then they rise up every few years and guillotine whoever they put in place the last time."
"They're impatient, is what they are," Vallyn said. "They won't give anyone a chance to set the place in order. The old ones, the nobles, a lot of them had it coming. In my opinion," Vallyn added.
This was news to Elyana, and the bard must have sensed her surprise, for he hurried to explain.
"The Galtans went way too far," Vallyn said. "I'm not excusing what they did. I'm just saying that their government wasn't exactly looking out for anyone's interests but its own."
"It's not a good place," Elyana said to Renar. "There are spies everywhere. We must tread lightly even in the wilderness."
Renar fell silent for only a moment. "What are we really going to do about Arcil?"
If this was what had truly been troubling him, he would find no comfort from Elyana now. This was neither the time nor the place for that particular discussion. "Nothing I'd discuss without wards against scrying in place," Elyana replied.
"He didn't used to know that kind of thing," Vallyn said.
"He didn't used to be able to crush a man with shadows, either. From a distance."
Vallyn whistled. He rode in silence for a long moment, then said: "I always told you he was going to go bad."
So he had. And still Elyana sometimes wondered if there was something she might have said or done differently to help Arcil find the right direction. She didn't mean to mislead Vallyn or Renar, but she had no intention of admitting to them—or to Arcil, should he be listening—that she had no idea how to stop her old friend. She was still hoping she'd find something within the tower to aid her.
That night they set up camp in the Galtan wilderness and lit no fire, subsisting only on cold rations. Elyana arranged to take the middle watch, and lay down to rest. Sleep came quickly to her.
"Elyana."
She opened her eyes to find Kellius looking down at her. While his expression was calm, the wizard's face was strained. The stars shone in a clear sky. It was deep into the night.
Kellius pretended calm. "There's something out there. Something large. I saw it flying—"
"Wake Drelm first. Hurry."
"It's circled twice," Kellius said as he moved off.
Large and winged. Elyana ran over the possibilities as she slipped feet into boots and buckled into her leather cuirass. She climbed up to search the sky.
Dragons, wyverns, and giant birds could all be found near the Five Kings mountain range. Galt's constant chaos meant patrols and huntsman were not as plentiful as they once had been, and all manner of wild beasts had multiplied in the wilderness.
And there was always the chance that Arcil had sent something against them, calling it down from the peaks or even the Plane of Shadow.
She saw that the land was dark but for a distant light from the Galtan city of Woodsedge, miles to the south. Their camp sat under a scrubby stand of trees, which might explain why whatever it was had not dropped straight in.
The black wall of the Five Kings loomed on the western horizon. Elyana glanced briefly toward it, then looked skyward once more. It was then that she saw the draconic shape blotting out a swath of stars.
The reptile was long and large, with a serpentine neck thrust low. It glided on huge, batlike wings, its tail hanging stiff. Elyana saw that it had no arms and knew then that it was no true dragon, but a wyvern. She'd faced one once before, a creature half this size, and that had been no easy day. Its poisoned sting had put two men in the ground. Wyverns were powerful, relentless, and hungry.
This one swung toward her and lowered its wings for a dive.
"Wyvern!" she screamed in warning, then launched two arrows. Even as the first was still arcing into the air she was running forward. She threw herself into the tall grass and landed with a whuff that knocked the air out of her.
The first arrow slammed home just left of the wyvern's breastbone, provoking a growl that was cut off as the second caught it high along its wing. Its hooked claws grabbed at the dashing humanoid, but Elyana was too swift.
The wyvern landed with an earth-shaking thump. Its snaky neck swung left and right as it considered its targets, its roar a piercing shriek so loud that Elyana felt a sympathetic vibration deep in her chest. She heard Renar call out to her in worry, but staye
d low as the wyvern searched the air with its long snout, snuffling.
Drelm praised one gift from his cursed heritage, and that was the ability to see not only in dim light, but in the deepest black. The humans might see the wyvern as a dark, threatening shape with a long neck, but he saw the glint of its eyes, the muscles along its chest as it thundered toward him. He heaved his throwing axe and ran to meet the beast. But the wyvern had hunched as it built speed for a charge, and the weapon soared over its shoulder.
The winged lizard lowered its head, its mouth widening in a display of daggerlike fangs. Drelm knew a burning thrill of action in his veins, a searing strength that left little room for anything but rage and power. He met the wyvern's strike with a sideways slash of his greataxe. The blow ripped into the side of the monster's head, tearing through scales in a spray of blood. The wyvern's teeth clamped down, narrowly missing Drelm's chest.
Drelm dodged left, his hands barely retaining hold of the axe as he leapt away. There was a blanket of darkness as the wing fell over him, and then the beast's tail lashed down. He caught sight of the long, long spike and rolled, but the thing slammed into his arm, penetrating armor, flesh, and bone. He roared not at the pain, but in anger, and climbed to his feet.
The wyvern somehow managed a swift stop. It spun, horned head twisting toward him. Drelm readied his axe, wondering why his right hand shook so.
A lightning blast underlit the beast's scaly maw, casting its brow ridge in shadow. The thing convulsed, then threw back its head in a deep-throated roar.
So close was the wyvern's head to Drelm when the wizard's lightning struck that he saw the beast's pupils shrink. Drelm raised his axe, snarling, then realized he was strangely dizzy. Dimly, he perceived that Renar was running into the fray. He heard the pluck of a lute, of all things, and Vallyn shouting for Renar to get back. Drelm agreed, and tried to tell the boy to stay clear, but couldn't quite find the strength.
Then a screen of shifting motes of light fell between him and the wyvern. Drelm did not understand where it had come from, but it was very beautiful, and he wanted to do nothing more than study the slowly changing colors, except that he was already feeling rather sleepy. He sat down, conscious that his arm ached and that he wasn't thinking clearly. For whatever reason, it all seemed unimportant.
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