“It’s down there!” he crowed. He muted the glow of the light ribbon that ran along the floor, so that its ambient mana wouldn’t interfere with his efforts to detect traps or wards. He would have liked to do the same with the ribbon near the ceiling, but then he’d need to carry a lantern. Ah, well, soon enough he’d have memorized the ribbon’s particular signature, and would be able to eliminate it from consideration.
The corridor from the supply closet descended, curved, and then intersected with another, much older, corridor. This corridor’s age was indicated not so much by dust or dirt as by the fineness of the stonework, and the sophistication of the spells that both lit it and caused fresh air to gently circulate. Eventually, after too many corridors and cross corridors to serve any useful purpose, Kabot realized he had entered into an elaborate maze.
Kabot groaned and ran his hands over his hair. He shouldn’t have been surprised; he really shouldn’t. The sorcerers of old had loved mazes. Rhinadei’s original colonists had found the number and complexity of mazes among the ruined cities of their new home baffling, which argued that whatever purpose they served was specific to the lost culture. One theory held that mazes had been used not only as a simple means of security, but for magical training. Others postulated that there was a religious element, others that they represented an elaborate competition.
Whatever the reason for this maze, it was here and Kabot knew it wouldn’t be easy to solve. Worse, Guulvalkay was doubtless hidden in some obscure corner. It was only in stories that anyone hid anything in the maze’s heart. That was too obvious. He ground his teeth in frustration. He didn’t have time to solve this maze, especially when his pursuers would be tracking him, sparing them any number of wrong turns.
Kabot grinned then, the vicious grin that Wythcombe had said reminded him of a fox who’d just realized the henhouse door was open. Tracking him by scent, at least, wouldn’t be easy. The kitchen in the little apartment had been well-stocked with spices, and he’d helped himself to a wide selection that he planned to scatter.
Zazaral did her best to coach him through the maze but, as Zazaral herself had made clear from the start, she was not precisely in the same dimension and therefore was limited in what she could perceive—unless Kabot was willing to let her share his senses. After his left leg was nearly scythed off beneath the knee when he failed to detect a horrid boar-like creature that emerged through the floor, Kabot finally accepted Zazaral’s help. He still felt uneasy but—as he told himself while wrapping a makeshift bandage around his freely bleeding leg (and trying not to wish too much for Daylily’s eclectic skills)—what good would either pride or caution do him if he was dead?
Given how much Kabot was bleeding, there was no need for him to cut his finger or even perform much in the way of a ritual to draw Zazaral closer. A woman neither young nor old, light nor dark, slender nor heavy, hieratically perfect, without being in the least beautiful, manifested, kneeling next to him and pressing her lips to his wounded thigh. The bleeding stopped instantly. The wound knit closed, leaving only a livid scar.
“Zazaral?”
She rose gracefully, smiled at him, extended a hand that melted into his hand. Spinning as if performing an elaborate dance, she merged herself into him. He felt his lips move in a satisfied smile, heard his own voice say, “Let’s go!”
XI
AS BLIND SEER listened to Wythcombe recount how carefully the Mended Shield had been warded, the blue-eyed wolf found himself beginning to laugh. There just might be a way through the protections, one Rhinadei’s humans would not have considered.
“Firekeeper, ask Wythcombe for more information as to what the ward keeps out. Surely it cannot keep out everything. Does it keep out air, rain, insects, passing birds?”
Wythcombe replied with admirable promptness. “The shield doesn’t keep out air, rain, or insects. It does keep out magic, so if magic was cast on, say, a swarm of hornets, the insects would not be able to go through the shield. The wards are set to bar humans or magically created creatures. However, wards work best when the parameters are very precise. Therefore, excluding all animals would be difficult. Excluding all avians might be possible, or all reptiles, or all mammals, but the larger the class, the more difficult the exclusion. My guess is that a general aversion, rather than an actual ward, would be considered sufficient to keep most animals away. This would have the added benefit of hindering mounted troops from assaulting the castle.”
“You said the castle’s ward is a variation on the shield created to ward Rhinadei,” Blind Seer pressed. “Surely those long-ago sorcerers were most concerned about other humans, their magic, and what that magic might control.”
Blind Seer considered mentioning how excluding birds and insects would have had serious ramifications for Rhinadei’s environment, but decided against distracting Wythcombe, now that he had given the wolf the scent of his prey. Blind Seer could tell from her scent that Firekeeper had guessed what he was considering, and that she was very uneasy. Better speak now, before she refused to translate without arguing first.
“Would the ward keep out yarimaimalom?” Blind Seer asked. “We are not human, but neither are we monsters. We may have magic, but what makes us ourselves is not magic.”
Firekeeper translated, the words dragging on her tongue.
Wythcombe pretended not to notice, but his scent showed that he was aware of her reaction. It also revealed a sudden flash of interest and excitement: hope where there had been none before.
“I don’t know,” he said, and might have said more, but Farborn shrieked “I can check!” and leapt into the air.
“Impulsive idiot!” Arasan said, springing to his feet as if he might grab the merlin by his tail feathers and drag him down. Chsss’s knowledge of great magics lay behind the ferocity of his reaction. “Farborn has no idea what could happen to him! Lightning from the skies such as we saw at Mount Ambition would be nothing to what that shield could do.”
Wythcombe was chanting rapidly under his breath, the words unintelligible even to a wolf’s sharp ears, the rhythm akin to the beat made by the hooves of a galloping horse. The chunk of rough mineral set into the curve of his staff began glowing with an eldritch light in hues between fire and dawn.
Blind Seer growled.
Firekeeper translated with sulky obedience. “Let the bird try. We need to know.”
Wythcombe’s spell continued to radiate within the crystal, ready to release should Farborn need assistance. Laria and Ranz stood shoulder to shoulder, unconscious that they’d moved together for comfort, attention fixed on the minute spot that was a small falcon against the blue-white sky. High above the fortress, Farborn darted as he might after a particular agile meal, the light glimmering off his crystalline talons.
Blind Seer thought, We forgot. Farborn bears a little bit of magic. Will that doom him? Or because that magic is Rhinadei’s own gift, will the shield permit him through?
He howled in wild delight when Farborn began skimming between the crenellations on the battlements, performing an aerial ballet over the fat domes, taking his bow atop an empty flagstaff. The merlin’s triumphant screech carried through the still air. Firekeeper translated for those whose eyes and ears were less keen.
“Farborn can go through the shield. He is extremely pleased with himself.” She turned her dark gaze, stormy as a thunderhead, on Blind Seer and spoke in Pellish so that the humans would understand. “And you, beloved, you will run into that castle, fight Kabot all alone?”
“If I must,” Blind Seer replied with a tranquility he didn’t feel, for he wondered if his decision would forever rob him of the Firekeeper he knew and loved. “I would prefer to take you with me. Speak for me, again, beloved, as I explain how this can be done.”
United, Kabot and Zazaral raced through the maze, every choice extraordinarily clear. Kabot knew where to step, what to avoid, where levers were concealed, even the location of hidden keys that opened secret doors. He knew the coded responses
to give to captive elementals, and the snippets of song that would soothe monstrous guardians. His clarity was so great that he didn’t even wonder how Zazaral could know all of this. Their course was clear, it was perfect, it was precise. Right up until the moment it wasn’t.
If a rainbow could have been played like a harp, it might emit a melody like the barrier that stood between Kabot, Zazaral, and Guulvalkay. Kabot’s soul shivered, and Zazaral stood beside him.
“This is where things become interesting,” Zazaral sniffed, viewing the barrier with distaste. “Up until now, most of what we’ve been dealing with was intended to keep out a more general class of trespasser. However, this elegant construction was meant to keep me out.”
“You?”
“Me.” Zazaral smiled beatifically. “I told you I was acquainted with Jyanee, and that Jyanee and Onorina were friends. Well, just because someone is your friend doesn’t mean their friends will like you. Personally, I think Onorina was envious of how close Jyanee and I were, of how I’d helped Jyanee receive the instruction that was being denied to her. When Onorina gained possession of Guulvalkay and resolved to take it to Rhinadei, she became insanely convinced that I would try to seize it for myself. Therefore, in addition to protecting Guulvalkay from general threats, she warded it specifically against me.”
Kabot analyzed the thrumming rainbow. “Not just you. I can’t simply stroll through.”
“That’s true,” Zazaral agreed. “But you have some chance of doing so, while I have none at all.”
Like a very light breeze, the thought eddied through Kabot’s mind that perhaps Onorina had been right to be concerned, but the worry blew away as he remembered how Zazaral surely could have easily gained possession of Palvalkay, Teyvalkay, or Xixavalkay. Clearly, she wanted nothing for herself. Only after he had needed it, had she risked herself by taking him to Guulvalkay. Dismissing doubt, he focused on the problem at hand.
The rainbow ward sang gentle dissuasion. For the first time since he had let Zazaral borrow his senses, Kabot found focusing difficult. He willed himself to mental clarity, driven as much by a desire not to embarrass himself, now that Zazaral was relying on him, as by anything else.
“There’re at least two barriers at work here,” he said after laboriously shifting through the energies. “This rainbow’s song and something Guulvalkay is intertwined with. That last is drawing on Guulvalkay’s own power, so removing Guulvalkay will break whatever that is.”
“I suspect,” came the very dry reply, “you are correct. The real issue is, can you do it?”
Kabot wasn’t about to say “No,” not even if he doubted.
“Of course I can.”
Although Firekeeper’s heart beat painfully fast with barely contained elation, she managed to keep her Blind Seer voice level and measured as she explained her partner’s plan.
“Since Farborn and those extraordinary claws can get through the shield, then it is likely I can as well. First, though, I will try to change Firekeeper into a wolf shape, so she can come with me and Farborn. Once we are inside, we will take down the ward so the rest of you can join us.”
“Why just Firekeeper?” Ranz interjected indignantly. “If a shapeshifted human can get through, why not shift all of us? I understand magical workings far better than Firekeeper does. Laria could use her talent to ‘read’ the surroundings. It goes without saying that Wythcombe and Arasan would be useful. Firekeeper would be the least useful of any of us.”
Blind Seer snorted. Firekeeper grinned. This time, when she spoke it was in her own voice.
“You would be shapeshifted humans. I will be wolf. Blind Seer says this is because although my body is a human one, my soul is a wolf’s. When we are clear of the ward, then he will shape me back.” She felt sorrow clog her heartbeat, but pressed on. “When I have hands again, I will help Blind Seer take down the ward or for things like opening doors that a human does easily and a wolf not at all.”
Ranz looked as if he would protest again, but Arasan—or rather Chsss—waved him down.
“You’ve only known Firekeeper a few moonspans, Ranz. To you, she’s just a stranger than the rest of us outlander, but in this I agree with Blind Seer: her soul is not a human soul. Blind Seer’s plan just might get them both through.”
Ranz protested weakly. “But if they’re wrong, then Firekeeper going through the shield will trip the ward.”
Wythcombe shrugged resignedly. “Then we will need to deal with an elite corps of very worried spellcasters arriving to deal with the breach. They won’t be happy to see us here but, if we move quickly, we’ll be in ahead of them. If you want, you can stay outside and tell them you tried to stop us. You’d only be telling the truth.”
“I’m not trying to stop you going after Kabot,” Ranz protested. “I’m saying that Blind Seer is crazy to want to try this.”
Arasan chuckled and laid a hand on the younger man’s arm. “The very fact that you accept that Blind Seer is capable of working a spell puts you leaps and bounds ahead of just about anyone else in Rhinadei. Think about that.” He turned to the others. “Ranz votes against. Chsss and I are for—and we’ll let our vote count as one. We know the wolves are for it. Farborn, too. Laria?”
“For, I think. They’ll be more careful if they have each other to protect.”
“Wythcombe?”
“For.” The old spellcaster turned to Blind Seer. “Normally I’d suggest we test if you can get through the shield without breaking the wards, but we don’t have time. Kabot’s already in there, doing who knows what.”
“Ranz?”
The young man gave a stiff little bow. “I withdraw my protest. Wythcombe’s right. If Kabot is acting impulsive and crazy, maybe what we need to do to stop him is be a little crazy ourselves.” He looked at Blind Seer. “I was going to suggest I loan you some mana, but if you can tap what’s already here, maybe that will be better. Depending on the casting, alien mana might trigger the ward.”
Blind Seer nodded, panting appreciation of Ranz’s offer.
Firekeeper spun in place, elated. “We do this then.”
What followed would have been surreal except that Laria’s capacity for finding anything weird had been exhausted. To stand in the shadow of an ancient fortification grown from living stone while a wolf paced a careful dance around a naked woman, to know that the falcon who flitted above the castle was scouting out the best possible approach for his ground-bound comrades, to hear the wolf begin to sing high, almost keening notes, and to hear the woman echoing them… All of this seemed, if not normal, all of a piece. Laria sat beside a man who had two souls, one of which might be that of a god, while waiting to find out if a woman might become a wolf.
When the singing stopped, two wolves sat side by side. At first glance they looked remarkably alike: lean, grey-furred carnivores with only Blind Seer’s blue eyes to set them apart. Then Laria noticed little differences. Firekeeper’s eyes—which were a wolf’s more usual yellow-gold—were rimmed in white fur; outside of this was a thick, dark border, as if the darkness of human Firekeeper’s eyes had flowed there. The edges of wolf Firekeeper’s ears reminded Laria of human Firekeeper’s dark brown hair.
Seeing Laria studying her, Firekeeper panted a laugh, then stretched luxuriously. The motion was completely natural, completely graceful, as if this was the body she had been born to. Firekeeper bumped her head against Blind Seer in a wolf hug, then padded to where she’d set her weapon’s belt atop her clothes. She nosed the belt over her head, so that it would rest around her neck.
As she was doing this, Blind Seer padded over to Laria, brushing the becharmed necklace that held Teyvalkay against her hand. Laria understood, but she spoke anyhow, aware that she wanted reassurance before touching the artifact the great grey wolf had claimed for himself.
“You want me to take this?” she asked.
Blind Seer nodded. Laria carefully lifted off the necklace, then draped it crosswise over her torso, where it wouldn’t tangle wit
h Volsyl. Firekeeper picked up the little pouch that, along with the tinderbox she always carried, now contained the half of Xixavalkay. She dropped this into the hand that Laria extended, then gave the younger woman a gentle bump with her head.
“Well, I don’t know if I’m insulted or not,” Chsss said, but there was honest laughter in his voice. “Good luck to the both of you.”
Without further delay, the two wolves trotted down the slope, vanishing into the shadows that they would cling to as Farborn guided them closer to the Mended Shield. Laria watched them go, remembering the one time when she had been Blind Seer’s partner, thinking wistfully how she wished she could join the wolves now.
She was broken from her reverie by Ranz’s voice. “Wait! Firekeeper took her knife, but left her clothes. Has she forgotten she’s going to be naked when she changes back?”
“Nude, only,” Arasan replied gently. “When you know Firekeeper better, you’ll realize she is never naked.”
Ranz grinned. “I’ve seen that for myself. I just wish we could go with them, be more help.”
“We’re not done with this yet,” Laria reassured him. “Your ice and snow making may save us yet.”
Ranz reached to affectionately pat the large water bag he wore over his shoulders instead of a backpack. After lack of water had kept him out of the fight against the statue beneath Queen Zorana’s tomb, Ranz had resolved that he wouldn’t go unarmed onto this new battlefield. Ikitata had fit the base of the water bag with a flexible hose, so that Ranz could access the water without needing to remove the pack. Then Ikitata had shaped the sides so that Ranz could press with his elbows and lower arms to increase the pressure. The device was far from perfect, but it should serve.
Wythcombe pushed himself to his feet. “We should get in position for when they disarm the ward—or to be there to deal with whatever happens if they fail. Blind Seer has solved one problem but, as Laria so neatly put it, we’re not done with this yet.”
Wolfs Soul Page 28