“I saw them this morning,” said Verro. “And I doubt she’s his concubine, though she may be his apprentice.”
“I don’t care if she sleeps with wizards or goats, so long as I can have a few hours alone with her to teach her proper manners,” Fox replied. He spat and wiped his mouth.
Verro looked away to hide his distaste. Battles made strange bedfellows, or something like that, he thought. Not something for Ealdamon to add to his next book of epigrams.
“Where did you see them?” asked Fox.
“At the quarry near the Coombe at first light,” said Verro.
Fox’s eyes lit up with anticipation. He rubbed his palms together in excitement.
“They’re not there now,” said Verro. “Given their traveling companions, I expect you’ll find them with the Dâron royal army in the morning.”
“I hope you’re right,” said Fox. “You’ll make sure I get them if they’re taken captive?”
“I will,” said Verro, though he resolved he’d tell Fox he found their bodies dead on the field before giving them to this repulsive little man.
“That would be worth a tun of Applegarth cider once I’m the Duke of the Rhuthro,” said Fox. “That’s the best cider in Dâron.”
“I’ve heard,” said Verro. “Just have your new associates armed, massed and ready to run through the gate as soon as I trigger it. Make sure they run through Dâron’s encampment and attack their army.”
“So you’ve said,” said Fox. He looked around for listeners again before he spoke. “I can understand why you keep telling me. I have to keep telling the clan chiefs as well. They follow their own minds in almost everything. It’s like herding wildcats.”
“Do you think they’ll follow my instructions?” asked Verro.
“Yes, yes, I’m sure they will,” said Fox. “You’ve kept them simple enough. Through the gate, don’t stop to loot the encampment, hit the Dâron army. I think they can manage it.”
“I’ll hold you to it,” said Verro.
“And I’ll hold you to my prisoners and dukedom,” said Fox.
“See you at dawn, then,” said Verro.
He stepped out of range of the firelight, mounted his flying disk, and flew up to vanish into a near-invisible gate, black against the black sky.
Chapter 54
Nûd
Thank goodness I’ve had so much practice riding flying disks with Damon, thought Nûd. He felt like a child tipping on a board placed across a log, trying not to lose his balance. Nûd didn’t dare look down—it would distract him from staying atop the flying disk and remind him how far it was to the basin’s floor—and the waiting basilisk.
“Eynon!” Nûd shouted again. There wasn’t an answer, but he nearly fell off when he was surprised by a pair of small arms grabbing his leg. Chee must have jumped down from Eynon’s shoulder when the gryffon captured his friend. Nûd heard soft, nervous chirps of chee-chee-chee below him and spared a few seconds of attention to say, “Hang on, little buddy, and don’t move.” He didn’t receive a response, but the raconette’s arms squeezed his leg tighter.
Nûd made his stance wider and that gave him more control as the geyser’s jet began to weaken. Now they were only eighty feet above ground, then fifty. Thank goodness Eynon’s glow sphere is still above my head, thought Nûd. I’d hate to deal with a hungry basilisk in the dark. Damon would tell me it builds character, Nûd considered. Maybe Damon should be balancing on a flying disk above a geyser!
The flying disk continued to descend as the flow from the geyser diminished. Nûd had figured out how to control the disk and could spare a few seconds to think on what would happen when he touched down. The basilisk will charge, Nûd decided. He’d seen them take down a flathorn who’d had the misfortune to enter the basin when he’d been repairing the railing by the steps leading down the hillside. It hadn’t been pretty. At least there’s only one of them to deal with, he considered.
What are my resources? Nûd asked himself. A flying disk that I can’t make fly. A frightened raconette. The clothes on my back. My belt knife. And two embroidered pillowcases from my great-grandmother to guilt me into remembering I’m the rightful king of Dâron. Blast! Maybe it would be better just to let the basilisk eat me.
No, Nûd determined. I’m not ready to die even if I’m not planning to take the throne. Dârio is welcome to it. I have too many things to learn ahead of me.
The geyser’s flow sputtered out, flinging water left and right like a wet dog shaking. For a few heartbeats, the flying disk balanced on the lip of the geyser’s tower, then it tipped over away from the mud pots and the basilisk. Nûd rode it down like a sled on a steep slope, keeping the tower between himself and the mud-covered monster.
Don’t look at it. Don’t look at it. Don’t look at it. Nûd repeated the words softly. He tucked the pillowcases into his belt and rubbed Chee’s head, giving the small creature a reassurance he didn’t feel himself. Chee climbed on his shoulder then found his way inside Nûd’s jacket to hide. Just as well, Nûd realized. Now the raconette wouldn’t be petrified by the basilisk’s gaze.
Nûd held the flying disk in front of him by the straps Eynon used to put it on his shoulders over his backpack and pulled out his eating dagger. I wish I’d done more practicing with sword and shield and less reading about styles of combat, thought Nûd. It was hard enough to get Damon to give me time to practice with my crossbow.
The surface below his feet was smooth, white and slick, like the porcelain pitcher from across the Ocean that Damon kept in a glass-fronted cabinet with a set of gold-plated serving dishes. The cabinet hadn’t been opened in Nûd’s memory. The area around the geyser’s tower was slippery with mineralized water. Nûd strained to hear the basilisk’s approach over the final fitful hisses and pops of the geyser.
A wet, slithering sound was his only warning before something heavy slammed into the flying disk and knocked Nûd on his buttocks. He skidded across the smooth surface of the white circle around the geyser until his back slammed into a rock around its periphery. He could feel the basilisk scrabbling forward, its front legs brushing his own as it drove against the reflective bottom on Eynon’s flying disk.
Nûd forced his arms to keep the disk between himself and the attacking monster. It was the only thing preventing his evisceration and he could think of better ways to go. His knife was pressed flat against his stomach and he could feel Chee climb out of his jacket to escape the pressure. To Nûd’s surprise, he felt the raconette’s front paws pry at his fingers to get at the knife. He released his grip. Chee took the knife and escaped along Nûd’s left side.
“Be careful, little buddy,” he said.
I don’t have a magestone, but I’ve got a strength of my own, thought Nûd. I’ve chopped enough wood and hauled enough pronghorn carcasses to fight off a basilisk. He flexed his forearms and turned the top edge of his makeshift shield out, forcing the basilisk’s head down into the hard ground.
Nûd anchored one end of the flying disk in the mineralized surface to give him more leverage and pushed, trapping the monster’s head beneath the disk. The basilisk worked its legs furiously, trying to drive past his prey’s defenses, but its claws couldn’t get traction on the slick coating covering the area around the geyser.
The rock behind Nûd wasn’t going anywhere, no matter how hard the basilisk struggled. From the other side of the flying disk, Nûd heard a triumphant cry of chee-chee-chee-CHEE, then the basilisk stopped pushing and gave only a few more scratches with its front claws before ceasing to move. He sat up straight and peered over the top edge of the flying disk. Chee had stuck Nûd’s eating dagger in behind the basilisk’s skull, severing its spinal chord.
The raconette was dancing on the basilisk’s back, looking quite proud of himself. Chee? he asked.
“Chee-chee-CHEE!” Nûd replied, hoping his tone would convey his appreciation. He picked up Eynon’s familiar and stroked his fur until the raconette was humming with pleasure. “Thank you
, little fella,” he said. “I’ll get you a bag full of dried cherries as soon as I can.”
“Chee,” said the raconette softly.
With a struggle, Nûd twisted his body out from under the shield and basilisk and stood. Chee climbed on his shoulder and stroked his hair, imitating what Nûd had done to the raconette. Nûd removed his eating dagger from the basilisk and observed the beast’s dark blood with distaste. He wiped the knife on some moss that must have been shaded by the rock behind him and reluctantly put it back in his belt. He promised himself he wouldn’t use it to eat with in the future.
Chee jumped down to the top of the rock to explore on his own while Nûd considered what to do next. His heart wanted to follow the gryffon and rescue Eynon, but he didn’t have any way to fly now, at least not until Rocky returned. There was no telling when the wyvern would come back. His head said Eynon would escape the gryffon on his own and make his way back, flying disk or not, and the most important thing was to collect magestone fragments now, so they wouldn’t lose any time. Eynon’s surprise for Tamloch depended on it.
Reluctantly, Nûd pulled a pillowcase from his belt and left the smooth ground around the geyser. When he reached the space near a hot spring, he bent to pick up glowing stones. Chee scampered over, begged for the other pillowcase, and joined him.
Chapter 55
Eynon
Eynon woke when he fell on a thick mat of grass and leaves lining the gryffon’s nest, though he didn’t realize where he was at first. Then he saw three hungry chicks with eagle’s heads and lion’s bodies pecking at his boots, trying to determine how edible he’d be and jockeying to see who would take the first bite. He pulled in his feet and tried to stand up but couldn’t. A large claw belonging to momma or papa gryphon pressed down on his head. Chee was nowhere to be seen. Eynon hoped he hadn’t been an appetizer.
“No thank you, I don’t care to stay for dinner,” said Eynon. “I’m even less interested in being dinner.”
One of the gryffonlets growled like a big cat while another screamed like a hunting raptor. Neither sound was particularly reassuring, though Eynon had always assumed gryffons only made calls like eagles, because their heads were avian.
Stop thinking about gryffons’ vocalizations and start thinking how not to be eaten, Eynon told himself.
He crafted a shield of solidified sound around his body and gently expanded it to push the chicks over to the other side of the nest and force the big gryffon’s claw away from his head. When he looked more closely, he realized the chicks weren’t really chicks any longer. The were fully fledged and of a size that seemed ready to fly off on their own, at least if they were anything like the seed-eaters and songbirds Eynon was familiar with from back in the Coombe. Perhaps I’m the last meal they’ll be offered by their parent, Eynon considered.
The big gryffon was a momma bird, Eynon decided. Male gryffons had tawny feathers near their shoulders like male lions’ manes, at least according to the pictures he’d seen in Robin Goodfellow’s Peregrinations. The feathers on this gryffon’s head were white all the way down.
The chicks still looked at him like he was lunch, or breakfast, given the darkness and the early hour, while the momma gryffon eyed him warily, ready to strike if he made a move to harm her offspring. Eynon laughed with a sudden realization, and the big bird took a step backward. “Now I know what eats basilisks,” he said. “You do.”
The gryffons, young and old, stared at him. Then the biggest chick pounced and knocked Eynon over, back into the vegetation that padded the nest’s interior. The chick pecked at Eynon’s head with his beak and was joined by the other two, holding down his arms with their forepaws and turning their heads to strike at his neck. If Eynon hadn’t had his shields in place, he’d be dead.
Pushing his shields away from his body, Eynon was able to make enough space for him to stand again. He tried a trick that had kept Rocky entertained and hoped it would distract the gryffons. He generated seven balls of solidified sound, each in a different color, and sent them spinning in intricate, hypnotic patterns. The momma gryffon was entranced, but the chicks pounced on him again and rebounded against his shields. Eynon realized he needed to escape the nest before he could decide what to do next.
He looked over the side of the nest to see where he was, but the only thing that confirmed was that it was dark all around him. He made the glowing sphere above his head larger and brighter and saw the nest was built on a shelf of rock sticking out three-quarters of the way up the side of a cliff in the mountains north of the basin. He saw dim light from fumaroles in the distance and hoped one of them belonged to the glow ball above Nûd’s head.
The momma gryffon and her chicks had backed away from the brighter light, so Eynon transformed his shield into a hemisphere that took up half the surface of the nest and gave him room to move around. A few bones from what Eynon supposed were basilisks crunched beneath his feet. It would be a challenge to get down from here without his flying disk. He didn’t have time to try making his way along the cliff face. He didn’t have the skill to attempt it, either.
Eynon stretched his shoulders and rubbed his head where the momma gryffon had stunned him with her balled claw on her initial dive. He’d have to see if he could get some willow bark back at the castle if they had time, or maybe Merry had learned something about reducing pain from Doethan that would help. He took off his pack to see if anything he’d stored inside could help him.
Once the pack was on the bottom of the nest, Eynon saw the solution to his problem—the large shard of unknown material he’d found by the fireball-blasted oak the first day of his wander year was strapped across it. It’s part of a shattered flying disk, he realized. Maybe it’s enough to fly me down.
The shard was wide at one end and narrow at the other, like swords he’d seen pirates use on an illustration in Peregrinations. Handling it carefully, because of its sharp edges, Eynon put one foot on an angle across the wide part at the front and the other in line at the back. Part of the sole of his boot was over the sides of the shard, but he hoped it would be enough to support him. Using the same channeling of his mind and his magestones he used on his unbroken flying disk, he willed the shard into the air. To Eynon’s pleasure and surprise, it rose.
Eynon eased himself up and over the side of the nest and tipped the shard down at an angle toward the distant lights, like one of his uncles strapping long boards to his feet to slide on snow-covered mountains. It was something his relative had heard the Bifurlanders did. Thank goodness the baron’s hedge wizard had been in the vicinity to set his uncle’s leg.
After leveling out a hundred feet above the treetops, Eynon heard screeches and growls behind him. He carefully turned his head and saw all four gryffons chasing him. Momma could have caught him, but she was apparently teaching her chicks how to hunt. Eynon centered his body and modified his shield of solidified sound until it formed a vertical wedge-shape around him. Air flowing around the wedge pushed on him evenly from both sides and kept his flight stable, despite the inherent wobbliness of the shard’s geometry.
Stability was impermanent, however, once chicks began to batter at his shields from all directions. Their screeches and growls grew louder, overpowering the wind noise of his passage. If I was as good at manipulating tight light force beams as Merry, I could push the gryffons away without hurting them, thought Eynon.
A particularly bright light sparkled below and to the right. Eynon shifted his balance and twisted his feet while trying to dodge more gryffon chick attacks and headed toward it. Wait, he thought. I don’t want to bring hungry gryffons close to Nûd. Unfortunately, the shard’s downward course didn’t give him many options. It was barely steerable even with the wedge of solidified sound in place around Eynon.
Luckily, Eynon didn’t have to worry about protecting Nûd from the gryffons, too. Rocky, drawn by the gryffons’ hunting cries, came hurtling down out of the dark sky, scattering them like hens running from a fox in a barnyard. The momm
a gryffon screamed at Rocky, but chose to follow her chicks instead of give battle.
Eynon made an ungraceful landing on the circle of slick white ground around the geyser, almost colliding with the near-invisible dead basilisk as he did. Rocky landed gracefully beside him. The wyvern sniffed at the dead basilisk, but turned up his nose in disgust.
“It’s about time you got back,” said Nûd from the field of sparkling magestone fragments.
“Chee!” shouted Chee from a few feet away.
“You’re alive,” said Eynon. “Thank goodness!”
“I didn’t know you cared,” said Nûd with a grin.
“Not you,” said Eynon. “I was talking to Chee.”
“Chee,” the raconette repeated.
“In that case,” said Nûd, “I won’t tell you we’ve filled two pillowcases with magestone fragments.”
“Be that way,” teased Eynon.
“Good,” said Nûd.
“Fine,” said Eynon.
“Chee,” said Chee.
“Let’s get these to Fercha right away,” said Nûd, holding up the bulging pillowcases.
“Great idea,” said Eynon, waving at Rocky and retrieving his flying disk. “Mount up!”
The wyvern roared at the retreating gryffons and waited eagerly for Nûd and Chee and Eynon to climb on.
“Who’s a good boy?” asked Nûd. The wyvern made a happy rumble deep in his chest.
“Go find Fercha and Merry,” Nûd added. “Find them, boy. Find them fast.”
Rocky launched himself into the sky and set his own course southeast, his wings beating fiercely.
Eynon would send up a glowing red sphere when they got closer. He knew Merry would answer.
Chapter 56
Doethan
“Fercha says to tell you that your end of the gate needs to be a hundred yards wide,” said Merry from inside the golden hoop of a communications ring she’d borrowed from Fercha. Fercha recited more measurements. “And thirty feet high,” relayed Merry.
The Congruent Wizard (The Congruent Mage Series Book 2) Page 32