She reached out to the unicorn, and Shalkan stepped forward so that Vestakia could stroke his cheek.
"Usually, of course, the maiden rescues the unicorn," Shalkan commented, and Kellen was pleased to see Vestakia smile gravely.
"As for what I was doing there in the first place: that was my home, up until today. A month ago, someone started stealing my goats. I couldn't let that go on, so I set a trap to catch the thief, intending to give him a good drubbing and get my goats back—any of them that he hadn't already eaten, at least.
"But there was Demon-magic in the air, and I wasn't paying enough attention. I twisted my ankle, and he cornered me. If you hadn't come along when you had, I'd be dead now. And so he has all my goats, and my hut as well! And I wish him much joy of them, whoever he is."
Kellen finished wrapping the bandage at the top of her knee and tied it off to hold it fast. He held up her boot, and Vestakia slipped her foot into it.
Both of them looked up as a shadow fell across them. Jermayan was standing over them, holding cups of tea. The Elven Knight's face was a stony mask of disapproval. Kellen realized that with Elven rigid-mindedness, Jermayan still didn't believe any part of Vestakia's story— though he'd certainly heard all of it—despite all the proof Shalkan had given him.
Idiot. He's as blind sometimes as Lycaelon. If Idalia ever got wind of his behavior—
— if we make it home again —
—she would be sure to give him a well-deserved piece of her mind.
If he amends his behavior, I'll consider not telling her.
Kellen rocked back on his heels, wincing at his own soreness, and reached for the cups. Reluctantly, Jermayan placed them in his hands. Kellen passed one of them to Vestakia.
Kellen sipped the tea in silence. Considering everything, Kellen didn't think he was going to tell Jermayan that he'd been led to save Vestakia by the Wild Magic, or why the Wild Magic had exacted that particular price from him, as satisfying as letting the haughty Elven Knight know that Vestakia's rescue was the price of his own healing would be. It would only irritate Jermayan further, and Kellen didn't need Jermayan any more irritated and upset right now. He needed Jermayan alert and cooperative.
"There's soup," the Elf said reluctantly.
So that's what took him so long. Kellen forgave Jermayan slightly.
"We'll need to eat," Kellen told Vestakia. He got to his feet and handed his cup to Jermayan. He knew Jermayan would want tea as well, and they'd only brought two cups. And he was sure just by looking that Jermayan wouldn't want to drink out of a cup that had been used by Vestakia.
"After we eat, we're going ahead, as far as Vestakia can lead us. From the way she was feeling before Shalkan dosed her, the Barrier must be close by, and the animals can't get up the rock, so we'll have to leave Valdien, the mule, and everything we don't absolutely need here, and hope it's here when we get back." If we get back, Kellen added silently.
For a moment Kellen was certain Jermayan was going to refuse, to demand that Kellen find some other path, or decide to strike out on his own. But the Elven Knight merely bowed, the same stiff formal bow Kellen had seen so often back in Sentarshadeen. "As you command, Wildmage," he answered tonelessly, turning away back to the campfire.
"Well, that went well," Kellen said, under his breath.
"He hates what I represent," Vestakia said sadly, getting to her feet. She tested her foot gingerly, then put more of her weight on it, her expression relaxing into relief. "Well, I hate it, too. Does he think I've ever been able to look into a bowl of water without hating the Demon that looks back at me?" she added bitterly.
"Hate the Demon, but don't hate yourself," Shalkan said quietly, "for you are not of their kind. Your mother's Wild Magic saw to that, her courage, your courage. Vestakia, you have been braver than you think. If one who is wholly human can be turned to the Darkness willingly, think how much easier it would have been for you! You would have been accepted without question; all you would have had to do was take the easy path, embrace evil, and join your father. You did not. You are as human as your mother was, brave and true. And just as good."
"No one will ever believe that!" Vestakia cried wildly, tears starting to form in her yellow cat's-eyes. "Mama said so!"
"I do," Kellen said firmly, willing her to believe him. "Shalkan does. And Jermayan will believe in you, too—if I have to beat his Elf-stubborn head down between his shoulders until his eyes are level with his collarbone to make him realize it, I will. But we don't have time for that, now. We have to get up over those rocks before the light fails. Now come and have some soup. You'll need all your strength for the climb."
He was talking in part to keep from thinking. It was quiet. It was too quiet. Surely the Endarkened knew that they were near! Surely he would not be able to just clamber up to the top of the rocks, put the keystone in place, and walk away!
But Vestakia had said that the Taint was here, the dark magic, but not the Demons themselves. And certainly there was no sign of life here except for the moss and grey-green lichen. Maybe—maybe by taking up with Vestakia, they had been able to reach this place before the Endarkened were prepared?
He wanted to believe it, and knew he dared not. He dared be nothing less than prepared for the worst.
Except, of course, that "the worst" would be impossible for anyone short of an army to stop.
Chapter Twenty-Four
A Pause Before the Storm
HE LED VESTAKIA over to the campflre. Valdien stood nuzzling his master as Jermayan stood eating thick trail-soup from a bowl. Neither the mule nor the stallion wore any trace of tack now. At the moment, the mule did not look inclined to stray, and even if she did, she probably wouldn't go far. If none of them returned, the beasts would have to fend for themselves as best they could.
Maybe they'll make it back to Sentarshadeen. If nothing else, I suppose they'll find their way to where there are some people. The people can't all be like that bastard that tried to kill Vestakia…
Of course, by his way of reckoning, he was killing a Demon, so maybe I shouldn't call him a bastard.
Except that he was stealing her goats before he thought she was a Demon, so I guess he is.
These and other inconsequential thoughts chased around and around in his mind, and he let them. Better that than think about where they were going and what he might meet.
Kellen ladled more soup into the remaining bowl for Vestakia, and then ate his portion directly from the pot and unwrapped several trail-bars for Shalkan.
Afterward, in silence, he took his heavy green cloak from his pack and pulled it about himself, then took the bag with the keystone from Shalkan's saddle and hung it from his belt.
"I don't think I'll want the armor where we're going," the unicorn said, so Kellen unbuckled the saddle and armor from Shalkan's back as Jermayan retrieved his own dark blue cloak from the pile of packs on the ground, and his bow and heavy quiver full of arrows as well. At least no gleam of their armor would betray them to any watchers.
"How long until your medicine wears off?" Vestakia asked Shalkan in a quavering voice.
"Not long now," the unicorn said gently. "You'd better make as much distance as you can while it still has some effect."
Kellen picked up his gauntlets and locked them into place as Jermayan scuffed out the small fire. And then there were no preparations left to make.
He turned away and followed Vestakia and Shalkan over the crest of the hill, across the shallow ravine, and on toward the rock face. Behind him, he saw Jermayan turn back to Valdien, and stand with his arms around the storm-grey destrier's neck for a long moment. Only then did Kellen truly realize that Jermayan was being forced to abandon someone who loved him and depended on him, and whom Jermayan loved in return—and worse, someone who probably could not survive without him. If they did not come back…
Kellen gritted his teeth, forcing the thought from his mind: the image of Valdien, starving, alone, desperately and hopelessly seeking
his dead master in this wilderness. They had to go on. There was no choice. More lives than Valdien's were at stake. Many more.
He glanced behind him, in the direction of the sun. A few hours more of light at most, and then they would be in darkness. At least they had sun, though it had to fight with the clouds. The way this place felt, it should properly be shrouded in shadows, under a grim, grey, lowering sky, with clouds too thick to actually see the sun.
There was a faint, peculiar, bitter smell to the wind. He couldn't put a name to it. He wondered if the others noticed, and glanced at Shalkan. The unicorn's expressive nostrils were held pinched shut.
I guess he's noticed.
His hand went to the pouch at his belt, where Idalia's keystone waited, cocooned in layers of magical Elven silk, and examined the steep rock slope.
Shalkan crouched on his haunches and then sprang strongly upward. The unicorn's unshod hooves scrabbled for a hold against the rock for a few moments, then Shalkan found his footing and began to climb.
"You're next," Kellen said to Vestakia.
She gave him an effortful smile and followed Shalkan up the steep incline. Kellen waited until he was sure she wouldn't slip back, then got ready to start after her. He glanced back at Jermayan, standing stiff and forbidding behind him. He wished there was something he could say to close the gap that had opened up between them, something that could repair their easy fellowship, but he couldn't think of anything. Jermayan was as stubborn as all the Elves, and wasn't going to change his mind about Vestakia, or be pleased with Kellen for taking her part.
But if Jermayan hated Vestakia, it was because he hated all Demons, and Kellen had no doubt that destroying the Barrier was his highest priority. Jermayan would do what he had come to do.
"It will be over soon—one way or another," he said to Jermayan.
"One way or another," the Elven Knight echoed grimly. "And I hope your human heart has not betrayed you, Wildmage."
Kellen supposed that this was as good as he was going to get in the way of a reconciliation. He turned away and began to climb.
The half-dome was steep, and it was also absolutely bare rock. There was a sort of furrow in it that gave purchase to his hands and feet, and Kellen used it to pull himself up to where the incline was less steep and he could actually move forward in a sort of crablike crouch over the pale stone. Without Vestakia, he and Jermayan would never have found this route to the Barrier, not in weeks of searching.
As he caught up to Vestakia, he could see her shuddering. She would shake for a moment, clinging desperately to some invisible cracks in the rock, then the spell would pass and she would creep forward a pace or two before the shivering started again.
"It is wearing off," she said glumly. She pointed, ahead and to the left. "Whatever it is, it's that way."
Kellen looked where she was pointing. They still had to climb a good distance to reach the top of the dome of rock they were on, and he could see nothing beyond that, but what he saw around and behind him suggested more of the same kind of terrain—mountains and high hills, the only vegetation a little moss and lichen at most, the rock scoured clean by the battles of that long-ago war. Once they got to the top here, they might have some serious climbing ahead, and none of them had brought so much as a coil of rope. And worst of all, there was no more than an hour or two of good light left at best.
But they were close to their goal—close enough that they had to press on immediately, because they were already within the pall of Shadow Mountain's influence, and Kellen was coming to suspect that spending very much time here wasn't very healthy for living things. He followed Vestakia and Shalkan. He was relieved to see that the unicorn was staying close to her, but Vestakia seemed to be completely recovered from her earlier beating, and was moving without difficulty.
And they were close to their goal—
Now he sensed it; the despair and the bitter ache at his bones had a source, close enough that they had to press on immediately.
When they reached the top of the rock dome, it proved to be no more than the foothill of a true mountain, and Vestakia was miserable for other reasons. She'd thrown back the hood of her cloak, and her ruby skin was beaded with sick-sweat. She was breathing hard, almost panting, holding her stomach as if she were in pain. Kellen wondered if she could go on.
"Still want to take the lead?" he asked. "Or do you need to rest a little?"
"I'm fine," she said irritably, in answer to his query. "It's far worse than this when there's a Demon around."
"There's a path up the mountain," Jermayan said, as if speaking pained him. "Look, there, where that shadow starts, see? It's narrow, and you can barely see it, but it's there." He looked right at Kellen, obviously waiting for a decision.
Kellen looked in the direction that he had indicated, and made out the beginning of a goat track in the shadows around the curve of the cliff. It didn't look very wide, and it climbed rather steeply. If it got any narrower, they'd be edging their way to the top with their backs plastered against the stone wall.
"Then that's the way we go," Kellen said reluctantly. Vestakia nodded, very slightly, confirming his guess that that was the direction of the strongest Demon-taint. It looked like a long climb. Once they reached the top, it would be too dark to return safely. Kellen touched the pouch with the keystone, more to reassure himself than anything else. In his half-formed imaginings of the moment when he reached the Barrier, he'd always supposed it would be full daylight, that he'd be rested and ready for the final fight, not arriving after a long day of brawls, petty squabbles, and climbing up the side of a mountain. His bruises ached, he was tired, and he hated being at odds with Jermayan. Depression weighed him down as if he were carrying a full pack. Despair whispered that he was about to fail. The bitter air burned his throat and made him horribly thirsty. It seemed that Reality always managed to play tricks with your dreams and imagination, turning your fantasies inside out when it made them come true.
Jermayan drew his sword with a hiss of steel. As Kellen turned toward him, the Elven Knight met his eyes and inclined his head ever-so-slightly. Despite his misgivings, Jermayan would follow where he led.
Kellen turned back toward the mountain, and pointed. "Let's go. The sun won't wait for us."
Shalkan led the way, his white fur glowing almost as brightly as it had the first time Kellen had seen him. So short a time, measured in sennights, but it held a lifetime of experiences. Now Kellen was gambling—with all their lives—that he'd learned the right lessons from them, and was making the right choices now.
Vestakia followed immediately after Shalkan. If the trace of Demon-taint shifted, she would be the one who would know first and be able to alert them to retrace their steps. She would also be the first to know if there were any actual Demons in the vicinity.
That's one certainty, anyway. She might betray us inadvertently, but she won't do it deliberately. If I can't trust a unicorn's judgment, I might as well just throw myself off this rock and be done with it.
Kellen followed her. Jermayan came last, his sword drawn and ready in his gauntleted hand.
When they reached the trail, they saw it was both steep and narrow, a double-handspan cut into the side of the mountain, with a sheer drop on one side and the sheer cliff on the other. There was no way to hurry. Of the four of them, only Shalkan found it even halfway easy going, and that only because he had four feet, not two, to apply to the trail. The wind blew harder the higher they climbed, and seemed to turn colder with every step, until Kellen could feel the ache of cold right through the padding beneath his armor. The sunlight weakened, not that it had ever had much strength in the first place, but it seemed now as if what light there was came to them past a dark veil over the sun's face.
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