It was a satisfying kind of morning after their work of the night.
Thanks to Rethia, Madehy had the beginnings of what she needed. It was not, she made clear, that everyone threw themselves at Madehy — but just that they were, and that Madehy didn’t know how to shelter herself.
Rethia did.
She called it a layer of light, but when Madehy tentatively looked for such a thing, she saw nothing. When she tried to make one for herself, she failed utterly — at least, until she noticed that contact with Rethia gave her a funny feeling in the center of her chest.
Madehy no longer tried to build any domes of light, white or otherwise. She looked for that feeling, and in stuttering patterns of success and failure, layered it around herself like quilt batting.
It still fell apart when she became distracted. Even now, she felt a hint of the unrest swirling behind Kalena’s aloof expression.
But it was Rethia’s distress that concerned her — the watery look to her eyes, the way she kept biting her lip. “Now I know how Kacey feels,” she told Madehy, which Madehy didn’t find enlightening at all. She wrinkled her nose.
“My sister is too sensible for her own good,” Rethia said. “And I... I guess she would say that I’m too much the opposite — too willing to follow the moment and forget about the day and what needs to be done. But sometimes... more than sometimes... she wishes she could come with me. She feels left out. She frets.” Rethia ran a slow hand down Kendall’s back and admitted, “For the first time, I know how she feels.”
“What?” Madehy asked. “You want to go?”
Rethia nodded. “I don’t know what good I could do. I can’t fight, and I’m not very strong. But this is awful — this waiting and wondering and worrying.”
Madehy gave Kendall’s head a series of firm pats. He always put on a pained expression when she did it — but when she quit, he never failed to ask for more. Now she obliged him and said, “Then don’t do it.”
“Don’t worry?” Rethia asked, incredulous.
“Don’t wait here.”
“I imagine I’ll worry wherever I am.”
Madehy gave her a skeptical look. Deliberately, she said, “Go to the camp, Rethia. You can throw stones at them, can’t you?”
“Not with any chance of hitting anything,” Rethia said bluntly. But she turned thoughtful. “I do know this lullaby. I use it on our patients sometimes — the young ones, who get so homesick... . I’ve never tried it on more than one person.”
“I do something similar.” Madehy stood up and faced Rethia with her hands on her hips. “It won’t work on them once they’re riled up, but if we can get there first —”
“We? You’d come with me?”
Rethia’s surprise made Madehy stop and think, take a look at herself. What was she doing? What did she care about these people? Rethia was the only one who mattered to her.
“If it didn’t matter,” Rethia said, “you wouldn’t care so much when you do know what other people are feeling.”
“Don’t do that,” Madehy said, feeling Kalena’s piquing interest as her newly-achieved barrier slipped in the midst of her momentary fuddle.
“I didn’t,” Rethia said. “It’s obvious enough without leaving myself open to you all the time.”
Madehy let her impatience take over; she didn’t know how else to respond but to fall back on old habits. “You need me. And I can get us to the camp before the others.”
“Can you?” Doubt shadowed Rethia’s face.
Madehy snorted. “You described it well enough. I know just where they are, and I know the shortest way to get there.” She hesitated, startled by the sudden realization that she ought to have offered to help that morning, when Dan had asked again if Kalena and Elstan could stay the day.
Old habits. Demuring, hiding... staying out of things. She hadn’t even thought of it.
“If we leave soon enough,” she said, “we’ll get there before he does. Maybe we can’t do much — but if a few lullabies make that Knife camp sleepy, it’ll still be better for your sister than if we do nothing at all.”
Rethia looked down at herself, as if evaluating her stained split skirt and the laced boots on her feet, and knelt to retie a bootlace. When she straightened she said, “I’m ready.”
Madehy grinned. How good it felt to be making decisions instead of feeling trapped into them by her need to avoid people! “I’ve got a bow inside,” she said. “And I’ll get some water.”
She grabbed Kendall’s collar — he was a companion first and guard dog second, and not ever a war dog — and headed indoors to close him in. But at Kalena’s clear, loud voice, she stopped short.
“I want to come with you.”
Madehy exchanged a quick look with Rethia, and found her new friend equally as surprised.
“I mean it. I want to come.”
Madehy frowned, and let her barrier fade just enough to feel the truth in Kalena’s words. “Why would you? And don’t look at me like that — I don’t care who you are.”
“Are you turning down help?” Kalena stood up and brushed off the seat of her... well, Madehy wasn’t quite sure what it was, though Kalena had been wearing it since her arrival. A strange combination of trousers under a long skirt that was open in the front and split up in the back. A Highborn riding costume, she supposed. Kalena stared back at her and pointedly said, “Well? Are you?”
“Are you going to be of any help?” Madehy asked, just as pointedly. “Trying to boss the Knife around isn’t going to do us much good.”
“Madehy...” Rethia said.
Madehy didn’t turn her gaze from Kalena. “She’s not used to it when things don’t go her way. All we need is to have her fuss at the wrong moment.”
“I won’t.” Kalena took a few steps closer; the truth Madehy had sensed came through strongly enough in her face. “I don’t know just what I can do. But I’ve got to try.”
Madehy sent Rethia a skeptical glance, and Kalena gave an extraordinary fidget. “I’ve been thinking about what Dan said this morning. About being a leader. It’s true I don’t want to be here — I’m just a token, and almost everyone but the Knife seems to know it. It’s just a first step, my father told me — and it’ll work because I’m no threat to anyone. For this, they play games with my life!”
“But it’s an important first step,” Rethia said. “Otherwise the Knife wouldn’t care.”
“I never expected them to, or I would have listened when the Hounds pushed us to move on.” She stopped, then, her expression trouble — no doubt thinking about the dead they had left behind. But she quickly turned brusque again, her stubborn chin lifted. “Now, I have a chance to show them all how wrong they’ve been about me. To make a real difference for the Resiores. If I walk into that Keep having helped to rescue Kacey — who was only taken because of my presence here — I’ll have their attention.”
“Well,” Madehy said after another long silence. “If you give us away, I’ll put an arrow through you myself.”
“Of course I won’t.” Kalena busied herself by fussing at her waist, tugging at and twisting her clothing until she found the ties that secured her overskirt. “And I won’t get in the way. I just want to be there.”
“It’s up to Rethia.” Madehy gave Kendall’s collar a pull, and the big tawny dog rose, unsuspecting, to follow her into the house. “Kacey is her sister.”
Elstan stood at the corner of the barn, leaning against it in an exaggeratedly casual manner, his arms crossed. “It’s not up to any of you.”
They stared at him in unanimous dismay, and Elstan took advantage of the general silence. “Kalena is too important to trot off on a fool’s errand. The rest of you can do what you like.”
Kalena edged closer to Rethia and Madehy, who stopped just short of tucking Kendall into the house. In a frantic whisper, she said, “I don’t want to stay with him. I don’t trust him.”
“Why not?” Rethia said, making no attempt to lower her voice.<
br />
“Keep your voice down!” Kalena sent her a frantic look, and checked Elstan with a quick glance. He clearly knew they whispered among themselves; he clearly didn’t care. “He’s a self-serving wizard who so far hasn’t completed a single major spell. And he doesn’t care about anyone else, not really. He’s worse than me.”
Even Madehy had to smile at that; it made Elstan straighten and frown at them as if realizing maybe he should care.
“Besides,” Kalena said, “he called me by my nickname. My little-girl’s name. The only people who do that are mocking me for being my father’s spoiled daughter — except for Vaklar, who just keeps forgetting I hate it.” As Elstan started toward them, she added, “How would he even know it?”
“Maybe he heard Vaklar use it,” Rethia said, and by then Elstan had breached their privacy. Madehy found it necessary to bolster her protection, for the wizard flew his tense determination like a flag in the wind.
“Don’t even bother plotting.” He reached for Kalena’s arm, encountered her haughtiest glare, and changed his mind. “We’ve already had enough go wrong on this trip.”
“That’s true,” Rethia said, but there was a hint of something hidden in her normally forthright eyes; one moment Madehy was sure of it, and the next she could find no sign of it.
“What?” Kalena jerked around to glare at her. “I’m not under his orders, and I’ve no intention of —”
“Go with him,” Rethia said kindly. “You’re safer in the barn for now. And Madehy and I have a spell to practice.”
Kalena favored Rethia with a particularly vile glare and stomped away. Elstan hesitated long enough to toss advice to Rethia. “You should get out of sight, too. They might or might not know what Kalena looks like, but they’ve seen you up close.”
Rethia averted her eyes. “I have every intention of getting out of sight.”
Elstan waved them inside. “Do it, then. Work on your little spell. Just don’t bring those Knife zealots down on us.”
Madehy caught Rethia’s eye, and this time she didn’t need to feel anyone’s feelings but her own to know just what Rethia had in mind.
Yes, they’d practice their little spell all right. And Elstan would be the first to know if it worked.
~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 15
“You might have warned me,” Kalena sniffed, clambering up a short but difficult rise with Madehy and Rethia. Rethia trailed them, reaching for a tree to help pull herself along; Madehy stood at the top of the rise, evaluating their position. Too busy for idle word-swapping, both of them.
Though when Rethia had joined the other two, Madehy grinned. “That sleep spell was easier than I thought it’d be.”
“He was only one man.” Rethia said, unbuttoning her jacket in the warming morning air and pulling a twig from her hair. “There are at least ten of them at the camp, and that’s not counting the wounded.”
“But now we know we can target individuals — if Dan’s there, we won’t accidentally put him asleep.”
“I appreciate being your experiment.” Kalena straightened her trouser’s bloused leg and made a noise of disgust at the new tear. “Nice to know I might as easily be back there with Elstan, snoring away.”
“It was the best chance you had,” Madehy told her, unimpressed. “And if we’d put you to sleep, too, then at least you wouldn’t be fretting.”
But Kalena was fretting, and Madehy took a moment to shore up her barriers, wondering how long it would take before the process became as automatic — and as effective — as Rethia found it. Even now, Kalena’s worries came through — too strongly. Madehy resolved not to depend on her if they got into a tight spot.
Not that she planned on any such tight spots. She knew where the Knife had holed up. A short, wide jut of a cliff backed the camp, the face of which was composed of striated, flaky shale — impossible to climb. They could easily nestle in on that cliff. There’d be a sentry up there, of course, but he’d be surprisingly sleepy soon enough.
“We’ll have to keep silence, soon.” Madehy held Kalena’s eye until the erstwhile ambassador mumbled understanding. “I’m going to bring us in from uphill. There’s a good place to hide, off to the side. Unless they cut the old tree down.”
“You just let us know when we’re close.” Kalena gave her trousers one last twitch and straightened, waiting. Rethia, too, looked ready to go. Madehy nodded at them both — all right, then — and struck out up the hill.
~~~~~
Reandn crouched behind the swelling flower buds of a bushy mountain glory, looking down over the camp — so close to Kacey, and yet not nearly close enough. He saw only the foot she nursed, propped on a log in front of her tree.
The tingle of her aura had grown, feeling more and more like the one he’d always called Rethia — and yet... he wasn’t ready to move in. Not yet.
He centered his attention on the shallow bowl of the camp, just in front of the short, wide cliff he’d seen in the scrying. This time of day, there ought to have been plenty of activity. Clean-up from the mid-day meal, conversation, even some signs that the Knife readied for further action. Instead, the loudest sound remained the rustling of nearby thrushes, with only the muffled hint of conversation coming through. A man wandered between one lean-to and another, a woman poked at the central campfire without any visible goal, and a low groan drifted up from the only tent there, a three-sided structure with two bodies wrapped up beside it.
Reandn had managed two drowsy sentries, tying and gagging them with supplies pilfered from Madehy’s cabinets. There was another up on the cliff — Teya had found him with a quick, quiet spell — but there’d been no sign of him yet. Ten other men were scattered sleepily throughout the camp. Why hadn’t these people set up an entire web of sentries? Why hadn’t they seeded the woods with people in anticipation of a rescue?
Without answers, he put them all at risk by going in. And yet... there sat Kacey. So close. So close.
Reandn pinched the bridge of his nose. Think.
Or maybe... stop thinking. Do. “It’s strange, aya,” Vaklar had said when they had reached the top of the rise and crouched there, considering what they saw. “But good opportunity all the same. Go get your Kacey, and we’ll wait by.” For they had quickly decided to use only Wolf wiles, and to avoid anything but the subtlest of Teya’s spells. Otherwise the Knife wizard would cry alarm before they were even started.
Vaklar and Teya waited, still crouched opposite the cliff while he crept along the rim of the bowl — probably wondering what had delayed him, and ready to grab Knife attention.
In the camp, the man closest to Kacey — the one Reandn had seen in the scrying — turned away from her and yawned, settling himself into a more comfortable position.
Yes. Do. Reandn moved, sacrificing some of his silence for speed, leaving the cover of the scattered mountain glories for the beaten brush at the perimeter of the camp. No one stirred.
And then Kacey saw him. Her mouth fell open, a cry of relief in the making — and then snapped closed again before so much as a sound passed her lips.
Easy! he thought at her, motioning her to stay put, repeating the gesture when she yet sat rigid and ready to move. Not that he wasn’t fighting the same impulse — the need to sprint the scant distance between them. He pressed his back against the rough bark of the tree that hid him from the rest of the camp, unable to take his eyes from hers.
But then her gaze darted away from him, eyes widening; the hope on her face fell into desperation and then faltered, seeking something more neutral. Even from where he stood, Reandn could see a quiver in her chin, giving her away. Giving him away.
But the sudden slight hum of Teya’s shielding instantly fell over him, protecting him from magic; only an instant later, Kacey dared a quick glance at him, her eyes full of question. Someone cried out, and then someone else, and finally a man’s deep voice, coming from the center of camp and full of satisfaction, said, “Kalena.”
Wha
t?
But the babble of voices only rose as the camp came to life at Reandn’s back. Kacey, both panicked and astonished, looked to him for explanation so overtly as to make it obvious everyone else’s attention was elsewhere.
“Stay where you are!” The cry was thin and wavering, full of nerves. And it wasn’t Kalena, oh no, that was Teya, Teya come all this way to help him and now blatantly disregarding his orders. Stay out of sight. No fancy spells. Don’t put yourself at risk. And now, if he was to believe his ears, she was out there in the open, masquerading as Kalena — giving him his chance.
“Stay where you are!” Teya repeated. “I’m not alone.”
“You’re close enough to it.” The same man responded; by his voice, he had shaken off the malaise that gripped the rest of the camp.
“Keep your distance! I just want to talk.”
“I bet you do.”
Reandn eased out from behind the tree, just far enough to see a Teya-sized Kalena standing outside the camp, Vaklar at her shoulder and not looking any happier than Reandn felt. The Knife moved toward her — but without rushing, without looking as though they actually knew what to do — aside from the man who stood at their head, his arms crossed, his head cocked, eyeing Teya... Kalena... .
Whoever. Reandn pulled his knife and sprinted for Kacey.
“Magic!” A woman’s voice took up the cry and repeated it. “Arik, they’re using magic!”
“See to it,” the leader — Arik — snapped, and one of his people stood, her fingers moving swiftly. Teya gasped and threw out a defensive gesture — and her shielding, stretched by concurrent spells, failed.
Reandn’s world slammed down, lost in raging battle magic. He gurgled an involuntary protest and fell — but he didn’t stay down. Not this time. Not with the strength from Madehy and her unicorns behind him, not with Kacey so close before him.
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