She kept her thoughts to herself. There was no point in adding fresh terrors to a situation that had already grown beyond horror.
At first she had been grateful that they were left together. That no atrocities were visited upon her charges. It had been peculiar that the door to the cavern was left unbarred and unguarded, and it had been Alkandoran who had first suggested that they must try to escape. He had persuaded her to let him take one of the lanterns and see if he could find the way out, and at last, reluctantly, she had let him have his way.
He was gone a very long time.
At last he had returned—in the hands of two of their hooded captors. His face was white and strained, and the lantern was gone. They had shoved him back into the cavern, then entered, selecting one of the remaining lanterns and smashing it carefully. The lamp oil had kindled in a bright brief flare as it burned away into darkness.
The silent message was clear. Escape was impossible. Further attempts would be punished by the removal of more of the lanterns.
Lairamo did not think any of them could stand this captivity in the darkness. And the hooded ones might take one or both of the braziers as well, and the children surely could not survive the cold.
So they huddled together in the wan light of the two remaining lanterns, keeping their spirits up as best they could. All of them were cold and filthy— especially the baby—and slept huddled together beneath a pile of their cloaks and the strange hammocks in which they’d been carried here. Lairamo encouraged the children to sleep as much as they could, and did everything she could think of to keep them from talking or thinking of what the future might hold. Among the items left behind here by their captors had been a gan set. Alkandoran had taught the younger children to play, and bullied them into it constantly. No one was very good at it, but it kept their minds off where they were, at least a little.
The only thing they could do was wait. Alkandoran had told her of what little he’d managed to see before he’d been recaptured—he’d wandered for what seemed like hours through cave passages that all looked alike, and he’d been pretty sure he’d been going in circles. The hooded ones had waited until his lantern ran out of oil before taking him, so he was fairly sure they’d been following him the whole time.
A faint scuffling in the outer darkness heralded the return of their captors once more. Reflexively, Lairamo drew the children to her and scuttled back against the farthest wall of the cave. They huddled against her skirts, and she put her arms around as many of them as she could.
A few moments later, the two cloaked and hooded figures appeared, faint ghosts in the dimness. As always, one carried a wide shallow basket and the other carried a water jar. They set their burdens down just inside the doorway, where the shadows were thickest, then one of them moved to collect the empty jar. In moments the two were gone again.
Lairamo made them all wait for several minutes before they approached the food and water, though they were hungry all the time these days, and thirsty as well. She rationed their supplies as best she could, but they were entirely at the mercy of their jailers, and without constant supplies, they would die of thirst long before they starved.
Just as she was getting stiffly to her feet, Kalania balanced on her hip, there was a sudden blur of motion, and a figure appeared out of nowhere, standing in the middle of the chamber. Tredianala gave a hoarse cry of alarm, and Alkandoran jerked the slender girl behind him.
But after a moment’s pang of terror, Lairamo recognized the intruder.
“Idalia! Praise to the Gods of Leaf and Star!”
“I’ve come to get you out of here. There’s a rescue party waiting nearby.”
—«♦»—
IDALIA had followed the two Shadowed Elves to their destination. She waited until they were well out of sight before advancing on the cave. She didn’t know what prisoners it might contain, but she meant to rescue them whoever they were—she would leave no one in the hands of these creatures.
She edged closer, wrinkling her nose. The cavern smelled of long—and unsanitary—occupancy. When she rounded the corner and looked inside, her heart leaped. Lairamo and the children—and as far as she could see, they were all alive and whole, though filthy and haggard.
She stepped into the cave and flung off her tarnkappa.
Instantly the world became dim—though by some whim, the Shadowed Elves had left their Elven prisoners a lantern or two to see by.
“They will catch you,” the oldest boy said grimly. “I tried to get away once. They followed me for a long time, then they brought me back here.”
“Ah,” Idalia said lightly, hoping to rally their spirits. “But I have magic. This cloak conceals me from sight and sound—and anything I have under it as well. I’ve marked the way to the surface, and with the hood down, I can see in the dark as well as they can. I can carry you all to safety, and no one will suspect a thing.”
But it will take several trips.
“Sandalon and Kalania will go first,” Lairamo said calmly. “They are the youngest, and the smallest. The rest of us will wait here.”
—«♦»—
“THERE’S something moving out there.”
The unicorns had excellent night-sight—better even than the Elves’—and the three unicorns in the party had volunteered to keep watch on the cave mouth from the edge of the trees. Shalkan had the first watch.
Kellen was standing with him—not because he could be at all useful; the darkness was nothing but dark to him, and the moon was too new to give any proper light, the merest fingernail crescent in the sky, sennights from full—but because this was, in a sense, his plan, or at least his responsibility. He was too keyed-up to sit at the warmth of the brazier with the others, waiting for Idalia to come back. His fidgeting would do more harm than good to their spirits. He was wise enough to know that much.
“What is it? What do you see?” Kellen fought to keep his voice low and level.
“Footprints in the snow,” Shalkan said. “Coming this way.”
Kellen loosened his sword in its scabbard. He hoped it was Idalia in the tarnkappa, but other beings possessed the secret of invisibility as well. Or someone might have taken it from her. But Vestakia had given no warning, so Kellen was merely alert, not preparing for battle.
A few yards away from where Shalkan stood, the air seemed to shimmer. Suddenly Kellen could see Idalia clearly. She was holding a bundle in her arms. There was a wriggle of movement, and Sandalon dropped from her back and ran to Kellen. Kellen dropped to one knee to receive the Elven Prince, who buried his face in Kellen’s shoulder. The boy was trembling, but did not make a sound.
“I’ve got to go back,” Idalia said without preamble. “The rest of them are still there—alive and safe, for now, but I’m the only one who can get them out, and it has to be done quickly. There’s more news, and worse—that cavern is home to a whole race of Dark-tainted creatures that seem to be some kind of Elven-Goblin hybrid.”
She thrust the bundle—the baby Kalania—at Kellen, swirled the tarnkappa around herself again, and vanished.
“Come on,” Kellen said, picking up Sandalon and trying not to drop the toddler. “Let’s go back and find the others. Jermayan and Vestakia are here. They’ll be glad to see you, you know. You’re safe now.”
Sandalon began to tremble even harder, and Kellen felt the warmth of soundless tears against his cheek.
—«♦»—
KELLEN was able to hand Kalania to Vestakia when he reached the others; Sandalon flatly refused to let go of him. Everyone had leaped to their feet when he approached, taking in the sight of the two children and understanding what it meant.
“Where is Idalia?” Jermayan demanded, the normal courtly speech of Elvenkind subsumed beneath War Manners.
“Gone back for the others,” Kellen answered briefly. “She says they’re all alive and well, and that she can get them all out.”
“Everyone on your guard and ready to ride,” Jermayan said. “We
need to move as soon as everyone has been recovered.”
The knights moved briskly about the campsite, saddling horses and unicorns and checking equipment. Evanor, the Elven Healer, took Kalania from Vestakia and laid her down on a blanket near the brazier, and peeled off the layers of sodden foul garments to examine her. Though the toddler was thin and filthy, and obviously stunned with terror, Evanor was able to apply soothing salves to the worst of her rashes, swaddle her in clean cloths, and get her to drink a little broth with a soothing potion mixed in, after which the child fell immediately asleep.
“It would be well if I were to examine young Sandalon as well,” Evanor said, when he was finished with Kalania.
“I’m fine,” Sandalon said sharply, his voice high with fear. His hands were wrapped around a cup of broth, and he was sitting on Kellen’s lap. At Evanor’s words, he recoiled.
“Of course you are,” Vestakia said, coming to kneel beside Kellen. She smoothed back Sandalon’s hair; it was greasy and matted after so long without washing or combing. “I can tell that. I know about these things. We found you because I can sense Them, you know. That’s the trail we followed. But I couldn’t sense any of you at all. We didn’t even know for sure you were in there until Idalia went in to look. So that’s how I know you’re all right.”
“You’re sure?” Sandalon asked, his voice torn between pleading and suspicion.
Poor little fellow! Kellen well remembered his own agonized fears of being Demon-tainted—and he hadn’t been a five-year-old child who’d seen all his friends horribly slaughtered, then been held prisoner by monsters down in the dark. No wonder the boy didn’t want to be examined too closely!
“I’m sure,” Vestakia said firmly.
Sandalon looked at Kellen.
“She’d know,” Kellen assured him. “And you should let Evanor make sure you’re not hurt, or going to become ill, and give you clean dry clothes to change to. We’re going to have a long way to ride tonight.” If Idalia gets the others out safely. And what if she doesn’t? What are we going to do then?
Reluctantly, Sandalon allowed himself to be examined by Evanor, who pronounced him to be in better shape than Kalania, and dosed him with a strengthening cordial.
Just then, two of the unicorns trotted off, as if summoned by a voice only they could hear. And Shalkan walked into the clearing with Tredianala clinging to his mane.
The girl was crying and quivering with terror—Kellen recalled that she had been particularly timid—and Evanor quickly took charge of her, speaking soothingly to her and leading her over to the brazier.
“Four more to go,” Shalkan said, coming over to Kellen. “Four more trips.”
Kellen didn’t ask the question that was uppermost in all of their minds: How long can Idalia’s luck hold out?
—«♦»—
LAIRAMO had sent the oldest girl on the second trip because Tredianala was the most fearful of the remaining children, and Idalia had blessed the sound-cloaking properties of the tarnkappa with every step she took, as the child had cried the entire way, just as if she were not on her way to rescue and safety. The second in-and-out went much faster than the first, and she was able to deposit Tredianala within sight of Shalkan, and turn back to the cavern.
By now her tracks were a deep rut in the snow. The sight of them gave her a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, but there wasn’t much she could do about them. If the Shadowed Elves came outside, the proverbial goose was cooked anyway; they just had to hope they could get the captives out and make it to the Fortress of the Crowned Horns with them before the Enemy could come up with any more Deathwings or coldwarg.
Down into the dark again, and the caverns began to seem like an old friend. This time she took Vendalton. Now only Alkandoran, Merisashendiel, and Lairamo were left. The boy rode piggyback, his arms clutched about her throat. Her back was starting to hurt; this was different from carrying a pack all day in the Wildwood. A pack didn’t squirm around trying to get comfortable, and occasionally kick you in the stomach by accident.
She reached the cave opening and stepped outside. She looked around, wary of ambush.
“I will take the child, Idalia.”
Coethare materialized silently out of nowhere. With a grateful sigh, Idalia set Vendalton into the unicorn’s saddle and turned back into the cave.
Merisashendiel was next. The girl regarded her with big-eyed fear, suddenly unwilling to leave the others. Lairamo had to scold and bully her before she would take her place on Idalia’s shoulders.
“But what if they die?” Merisashendiel said. “What if the others come while you’re gone and take them?”
“Hush,” Idalia said brusquely. “Talking can’t change what will be. And if they haven’t come yet, they probably won’t come at all.” I hope. Did the Shadowed Elves check on their captives between feedings? There’d be no real reason to. And they’d just been fed. She tried to put from her mind what Alkandoran had said about how he’d been tracked and tormented on his one escape attempt. As she’d told the child, talking couldn’t change what would be.
Up through the twisting maze of tunnels that led to the village cavern. Along the rim. Back through the maze of tunnels that led to the surface and safety. She could no longer remember for how many hours she’d been doing this, how far she’d walked through this underground world.
The surface once again, and another waiting unicorn. Merisashendiel wanted to argue with her, to suggest that she should be the one to go back down. Idalia dumped her rudely into the unicorn’s saddle and turned away.
—«♦»—
“LAIRAMO should go first,” Alkandoran said when Idalia arrived.
“Certainly not,” Lairamo said calmly. “You will heed me in this, child. Go with Idalia.”
Lairamo looked up at Idalia. Their eyes met, and Idalia knew that they were both thinking the same thing. She couldn’t carry Alkandoran, but he was small and slender. She could fit him under the tarnkappa with her, if he put his arms around her waist and pressed very close to her, and they moved slowly.
She could not fit Lairamo under the tarnkappa with her at all.
I will find a way, Idalia vowed silently.
“But—” Alkandoran began.
“We’ll do it her way,” Idalia said. “Now this is going to be awkward and slow. I’ll need your help, and your full cooperation if we are to get out of here alive.”
Alkandoran swallowed hard, doing his best not to look as frightened as Idalia knew he felt.
“The sooner I have you out of here, the sooner I can come back for Lairamo,” Idalia said calmly.
Alkandoran nodded.
This trip to the surface was agonizingly slow, as the two of them shuffled along beneath Idalia’s cloak. Over and over Idalia blessed Lairamo’s practical no-nonsense calmness—after a sennight in the hands of the Shadowed Elves, the captives could all have been completely hysterical, too terrified to cooperate in their own rescue. She wasn’t sure what she would have done if that had been the case—the younger ones she could have bespelled into unconsciousness, perhaps (and hope that using the Wild Magic didn’t draw their captors to them immediately) but she would never have gotten Alkandoran to the surface without his intelligent cooperation.
Shalkan was waiting at the cave mouth.
“You were gone a long time, this time.”
“Slow going,” Idalia said, untangling the cloak from herself and Alkandoran. The youngster stepped away from her, drawing a shaky breath. “Just Lairamo, now.”
“We’ll be waiting for you. Come, lad,” Shalkan said.
Idalia took a moment to stretch, wrapping the cloak firmly around her, before stepping back into the cave once more. She’d already made up her mind what to do about getting Lairamo out. She suspected that Shalkan had guessed her plan.
Lairamo wasn’t going to like it. But it was the only way. And she only hoped she’d be around so that Jermayan could scold her for it later.
“NO,” L
airamo said, when Idalia told her.
“Yes,” Idalia said, just as firmly. “I’ve been over the route several times by now, and besides, I’ll be right behind you. I know how to move silently. Just follow the marks I’ve left, and they’ll lead you straight to the surface.”
“I will not buy my life at the expense of yours.”
“And what of the Prince?” Idalia was fighting dirty and she knew it, but she intended to win this argument, and swiftly. “He has seen his friends killed, and goes now to live among strangers at the Fortress of the Crowned Horns. Do I tell him I have left you behind to die? He needs you, and the Nine Cities need him. You will take the tarnkappa.”
Lairamo’s shoulders slumped as Idalia’s arguments hit home. “Best done quickly then,” the Elven nursemaid muttered. “But I do not forgive you this debt you place upon me, Idalia Wildmage.”
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