Fear. Fear in the eyes of a Wolf who’d taken on all other opposition with feral mastery.
But he hadn’t gone prepared. Tellan would see to that. He certainly seemed to have taken over, now that he’d committed to do this thing. “Both of you pick up your things,” he said, in a voice he’d never used on Kacey before; it didn’t even crack. She hoisted her satchel and ducked under its shoulder strap, tugging her jacket free. Rethia, looking too slender and too serious in the long split traveling kirtle she wore, struggled to do the same, and Kacey shifted the thing for her, then looked to Tellan.
“All right,” he said. “Once I do this, you’re not going to see or hear or smell anything, Kacey, and you’re especially not going to feel anything. So wrap your arms around Rethia now — and once I cast the spell, don’t think of anything but holding on to her, even though you won’t feel her.”
“After I get to Solace, everything’ll be normal again?” Kacey couldn’t keep the doubt from her voice.
“Perfectly normal,” he assured her, in a voice that reminded her too much of Farren. “Ready?”
She’d already made this decision. So she nodded, and said, “Yes,” for good measure. This time there was no doubt in her voice. But all the same, as she wrapped her arms around Rethia’s waist, Kacey whispered up into her ear, “Break that thing just as soon as he’s done!”
“Yes,” Rethia agreed.
Sudden darkness closed in on Kacey. No sounds, and not only no feel of Rethia in her arms, but no sense of having arms at all. She was nothing but a disembodied speck of thought.
Good goddess, what if Tellan got it wrong? What if nothing changed when she arrived in Solace? What if all the wizards of the school couldn’t give her back the feel of being within herself? Would even Rethia be able to find her there, to feel her in the same way she felt Reandn? And how long could a body even live like —
Kacey squinted against the sudden brightness of a sunlight courtyard. Solace. Her ears, too, worked perfectly fine; she winced at the shout that hit them, and felt Rethia flinch within the circle of her arms.
“ — two of them! No wonder —”
“Calm yourself. I can count.” This age-touched voice came more quietly, and its calm gave Kacey the wherewithal to collect her thoughts and take in her new surroundings. She glanced at Rethiain silent question; Rethia nodded. She, too, was all right.
The second glance turned into one long look around them. This small courtyard held nothing more than a square of carefully trimmed grass surrounded by a flagstone path, with a center diagonal of flagstones where they stood. Green grass? Already in need of trim?
These are wizards, she reminded herself. And... sheep. One sheep, anyway, grazing contentedly off to the side. A splash of color at its neck seemed to be... a scarf. A winter scarf. Wizard pet? she thought, and looked then at the wizards in question.
One, the younger one, seemed to have followed her gaze to the sheep. Clothed in dark robes with thin piping around the sleeve that probably meant something, the young man wore a flush as well, one that crawled into the roots of his badly thinning hair. He cleared his throat, and said, “Mascot.”
The other wizard, a woman, looked at him from her considerably shorter height and said, “They’re the ones with explaining to do.” The woman looked at Rethia. “Our arrangement was with you, not you and someone else. Do you know the danger you put yourselves in, adding another person to this retrieval without telling us?”
“If we’d had a way to tell you, we would have,” Kacey said. “But I had to come.”
“You had to come?” the woman repeated, raising one finely shaped eyebrow. Must be some new city style. The rest of the woman looked much the same — styled. A stiffened, unadorned headpiece pulled her grey hair tightly back and let it fall freely down her back; her spell-twisting hands had none of the chipped nails on Kacey’s fingers, and her simple robes with their rich burgundy piping looked as elegant as the best dress that Kacey owned.
Silently, Kacey reckoned her for a stiff-necked, power-wielding school official, and resigned herself to an argument. Out loud, she said, “Reandn’s in trouble. Had to.”
The woman indicated Rethia. “She’s the one who can help him, I understand. However, I take it the amulet has been broken?”
“No,” Rethia said. “I felt it.”
“She does that sort of thing, from what I hear,” the young man whispered to the woman, not quite quietly enough.
“Yes, that’s my understanding.” She made no effort to keep her voice down. “But I’m not so eager to send her on without that signal. If there’s no trouble, her arrival might very well cause some.”
“Send us on,” Kacey corrected, trying hard not to sound as annoyed as she felt at having the wizards discuss them like this. “If Rethia says he’s in trouble, he’s in trouble. And I have to go, too.”
The woman tapped her lower lip with one of those manicured fingers. In the corner, the sheep gave a quiet, contemplative bleat. “And you just have to go.”
Kacey took a deep breath. “Please,” she said. “It’s important.” And Rethia took her hand.
From the corner opposite the sheep, a small inset door banged open; the woman winced in disapproval. A tall man came rushing through it and straight to the center of the yard. “I heard,” he said. “Why in Tenaebra’s name are there two of them?”
“Why do men always swear by Tenaebra?” she countered. “And why do you Locals always stomp around these grounds with no sense of propriety?”
“There’s two of us because it’s better if we both go,” Kacey said.
“Then that’s how you should have arranged it in the first place,” he said. “No way I’m dropping two of you into the Keep unexpected.”
“Please,” Rethia said. “We’re wasting time. It’s no more trouble than sending one of us.”
“No more trouble sending you, perhaps. More trouble when you get there, yes.” The Local looked like he was settling into stubbornness.
“Rethia’s right,” the woman said. “We are wasting time. Addem, please take the good Local to Master Farren, since no doubt my authority won’t be satisfactory.”
“But —”
“Do it, please. Now. Quickly.”
Addem glanced at the Local, who indicated the young man should lead the way. “The sooner we stop this foolishness, the better.” And then he didn’t wait for Addem to lead the way after all, but set out on his own with the younger man hurrying to catch up.
“My sentiments exactly,” said the woman to herself as the two men exited the courtyard. She turned back to Kacey. “Now. You tell me again why you have to go.”
“To help my sist —” Kacey started, but the woman waved her words away.
“Tell me,” she said, “why you really have to go.”
Kacey sat hard on her sharp tongue and temper. “Because I... because he... He’s in trouble, that’s why! I can’t not try to help!”
“Ah,” the woman said. “Now that last’s the truth. Though I’ve heard little of this man to inspire such loyalty.”
Stung, Kacey said, “Then you don’t know a thing about him!”
The wizard’s voice gentled. “There, now, dear. Just surprised to find the man has a champion here.” To Kacey’s surprise, her expression held understanding. “Don’t worry about the fussy old Local. You’ll be gone before he gets back.”
“We will?” Kacey breathed, finding her knees a little weak with relief.
Rethia, sounding truly cross, flipped her braid behind her back. “Good. Send us to Pasdon, please, and not the Keep.”
“I was given that as an alternative destination,” the woman agreed. “You’re sure? Pasdon can give you only a single Local escort.”
“We’ve wasted too much time here,” Rethia said, shifting the satchel strap on her shoulder. “We’ll lose days if we got to the Keep. And we’ll have to go through this argument all over again.”
The wizard pursed her lips. “Yo
u’re right about that. I’ll announce you to them, and then off you go.” She favored them with a truly stern look, then, and added, “What you did here today was a foolish and dangerous thing. Don’t pretend to understand the limits of magic you know nothing about.”
“Don’t blame Tellan,” Rethia said — and then she stiffened, and looked down at herself in surprise, down where the amulet rested between her petite breasts. “Kacey —”
“He broke it,” Kacey said, and looked at the wizard, all her heart on her face for anyone to see. “He broke the amulet.”
“Well, then,” the wizard said grimly, “let’s not waste any more time.” And before Kacey could so much as draw a deep breath, she plunged back into that senseless state, with the bleat of the sheep echoing bizarrely in her ears.
~~~~~
Gone.
Reandn rested his hand on his chest, confirming the fact. The amulet was gone. He’d had it before the ambush beneath his jacket.
Now it was gone, and he wore someone else’s shirt, someone else’s jacket; his own had been ruined in the fighting and Vaklar had finished the job while checking for wounds when Reandn was down. A search in the churned mud around the wagon had been yielded nothing.
Reandn jammed the thick-glassed bottle of Kacey’s infusion into the new jacket’s pocket, and stretched his shoulders inside their too-tight confines. No amulet, and the bottle three quarters empty. Should he break Elstan’s hands now, or simply bind the fingers together so tightly he’d never free himself?
But of them all aside from Kalena, only Elstan bore nothing more than a couple of scratches to show for the fighting.
Vaklar still moved with tremendous force of will, reorganizing the party into its new formation — but he’d lost blood from his shallow wounds and, once they moved away from this place, his energy wouldn’t last.
Reandn breathed easier thanks to Kacey’s medicine, but found himself annoyingly prone to spells of weak dizziness. The more conventional injuries he’d taken were merely irritating inconveniences, especially the deep cut in his brow that wouldn’t close. Kacey would fuss over that one, he realized, for it was going to scar.
He’d never pushed his reaction to magic this hard. Even in Rethia’s clearing, when magic had returned to Keland and Reandn had fought the rogue wizard Ronsin, the over-exposure — as acute as it was — had quickly abated. He had no idea how things would go for him — just the certain knowledge that there wasn’t much he could do about it.
Vaklar’s call sifted through his thoughts. “Dan! You ready, then?”
“Coming,” Reandn told him, looking down the road to the cart and horses. The cart held their wounded — the two guards and Varina, beside whom Kalena stood, constantly touching and soothing her. An unmatched string of horses straggled at the back of the cart, as many of the enemy’s as their own; they bore ill-balanced loads of pared-down supplies. Sky waited with them; the horse had returned on his own.
And between Sky and Reandn was the wagon, resting on one sideboard; beside it, in the lee of the increasing snow, their dead were laid out in neat rows. Too many to bury, not enough time for a pyre... their solution had been this, to turn the wagon over them send someone back to finish the job. Whether it would be enough protection from scavengers remained to be seen, but it was the best they could do.
Vaklar stood next to the wagon, carefully scratching in his close-shorn grey hair and frowning when his fingers came away bloody. “Another damn cut,” he told Reandn. “Be finding the things for days, aya. You ready to turn this wagon?”
Reandn regarded the dead for a somber moment. Four Resiorans and two Hounds, Nican with that silly grin still on his face. He and Damen lay side by side, and Reandn thought of the Binding he would do for them, and the Binding he’d so recently done for his own patrol. All for Tenaebra, like most of the people he’d lost in his life. All of them.
He looked down at his hand where he rubbed his thumb over Adela’s ring, and made himself stop. “Ready,” he told Vaklar. “Be easier if we could get Elstan to help.”
“He’s writin’ the note,” Vaklar grunted. “And since neither you nor I can do that, we’ll see to this.”
“Remind me to learn my letters.” Reandn moved in beside Vaklar and settled his feet, looking for solid ground beneath the slick mud. He nodded at Vaklar, who nodded back, and together they pushed — grunting, feet slipping, trying to dig the upper edge of the grounded sideboards into the mud so the wagon would tip instead of sliding along.
When at last the edge caught, actually tipping the thing seemed easy. It hit the ground with a hollow boom and quickly settled into the mud, leaving Vaklar panting and Reandn struggling for air. Soggy snow dotted the wagon undercarriage with spreading wet blots.
Elstan walked neatly between them and jammed his note by the axle box, covering it with enough stones to protect it from the snow and make its presence obvious. “There,” he said, backing out between the two men. “That ought to do it.”
Reandn straightened carefully, keeping one hand on the wheel he’d been holding. “Assuming that, like you, whoever happens by can actually read.”
“Everyone knows the Keep mark,” Elstan said, removing himself from between the two of them, and especially, Reandn noted, moving himself out of Reandn’s reach.
“I don’t,” Vaklar said, but he sounded satisfied enough. “All the same, it’ll take a pretty determined bunch to set this thing right, an’ you’ll pardon my blunt speaking if I say no one’ll even want to get near it after a few warm days hit this hill.”
“I can do something about that,” Elstan said in absent distraction, and lifted his hands.
Reandn was almost too astonished to react — but then he moved, and Elstan didn’t even see him coming. Reandn yanked the wizard up to the wagon, pivoting to kick his knees out from under him, and shoved him down against the wet wood, one knee on his back. Elstan’s protest turned garbled as his face met the wood.
“No more,” Reandn told him, his voice grounding out in its gravelly lower registers. He put his mouth at the wizard’s ear and repeated it, shoving against the back of his neck in emphasis. “No more.”
Vaklar merely stood there and shook his head. “Have you no wits, Elstan?”
“This is what I’m here for,” Elstan said indistinctly and somewhat nonsensically. “To keep us safe with my magic!”
“Naya,” Vaklar said coldly. “That’s what I’m here for. You’re here to make sure we don’t take the wrong road — or to give us a good one to hide on, should we need it.”
“Wrong again,” Reandn said, still on level with Elstan’s ear. “I’m the one that knows these roads. He’s been faking it.” Ignoring Vaklar’s surprised frown, he told Elstan, “Swear it, Elstan — no more magic. Swear it by Ardrith’s mercy and Tenaebra’s cold touch.”
“But —”
“Do it.”
Elstan hesitated yet, just enough to let Reandn know the vow would really mean something to him. “So sworn,” he muttered finally, instantly following it up with, “But if the enemy’s wizard comes at us again, there won’t be anyone to stop him!”
Reandn released him, an exaggerated motion that conveyed his disdain. “If you’re right and there’s something in this region interfering with magic, then that wizard’s not really a threat, is he?”
Elstan moved back away from the wagon, shaking his head at both of them. “You’re mistaken if you think you can get us out of this.”
Vaklar put hands on hips to watch him stumble back toward the cart; he grabbed his horse and mounted up, making a great show of pulling up his scarf against the increasing bite of the wind and snow. The guard’s expression was as much baffled as anything else. “Odd way to put it,” he said, and then turned on Reandn. “You’ll tell me what’s up with this little escort your Keep sent, Dan — aya, that you will. Later, then, when we’re some safer.”
“Elstan’s the one who came from the Keep,” Reandn said, his only feint; he didn�
��t expect it to work, and he was right.
“And you’re just the wrangler,” Vaklar finished for him in dry tones. “Oh, and the guide, aya? What else, then?”
Looking at him, Reandn shrugged. Just at the moment, he couldn’t think of any reason not to tell the man the truth.
Except for the fact that the wind blew more insistently every moment, and the wet snow landing against his face thickened just as fast. And that the Wolf in him said they’d already spent too much time here; no matter how sorely they’d hurt their anonymous enemy, that enemy would be back, and delighted to find them lingering so cooperatively.
Vaklar’s eyes had never left him, and now the man grunted, a noise of dissatisfaction. “Later, then. Mount up, ladaboy.”
Back to that, were they? Reandn held his protest and drew his borrowed jacket more closely around himself, wishing for the neck-cape that went with his Wolf gear; he found his anxious horse, ran a hand over his sturdy legs to assure himself Sky had taken no injury, and mounted up to trail the suddenly small traveling party down the switch-backed trail toward the main road and safety.
Or the safety they all hoped they’d find.
~~~~~
“I’m hungry,” Kalena announced. “I demand that we stop now.”
“My apologies, meira,” Vaklar said. “But not just yet.”
“You ignore a direct order?” Kalena said, her voice rising in pitch. She was hooded against the weather, but Reandn could well imagine the look on her face — the one that narrowed her otherwise pretty eyes and turned her mouth into something pinched and small. He ran a hand down Sky’s cold, wet shoulder and wondered when it might be safe to use more of Kacey’s elixir.
“Yes, meira,” Vaklar told the unwilling ambassador, his voice regretful but steady.
Reandn kept out of it. Vaklar had the right of it, no matter how his own stomach growled with hunger. Though hard to tell in this weather, dusk couldn’t be far away — given a choice, he’d push right on through it. There were worse things than cold and hunger.
Wolf Justice Page 16
