And none of it-none-was his fault. The personal burden he had carried for so long, the ghost of guilt that had haunted his days, was gone.
Darkwind bent over the basin's edge and closed his eyes in a prayer to the spirits of the woods and an apology to the spirits of the Tayledras that had died when the Heartstone sundered.
Mornelithe Falconsbane, you have a great deal to answer for.
He drew back and hurled the body of the crow into the fire pit-so hard that something shattered with a splintering crunch as it hit-perhaps the bird's bones, perhaps the branches of the fire...The Adepts were so intent on Starblade that they didn't even look up, but a sudden heavy weight on his shoulder, and the soft trill in his ear, told him that Vree approved.
The feathers caught fire quickly; the rest took longer to burn-but the flames from the resin-laden branches were hot, and eventually the flesh crisped and blackened, then burst into flame. He watched until the last vestige of the bird was ash and glowing coals, and only then turned back to the rest.
Iceshadow still cradled Starblade's head in both his hands. A pool of blood had seeped out around Starblade's hand, with Darkwind's knife laid to the side. The expression on Iceshadow's face was just as intent, but Starblade's expression had changed entirely.
Darkwind wondered now how he could ever have mistaken the changes in his father for anything other than a terrible alteration in his personality.
Here was the father he had loved as a child-despite the pain, the grief, and the suffering etched into his face.
Starblade opened his eyes for a moment and saw him; he smiled, and tried to speak.
And couldn't. Once again, he came up against a terrible compulsion.
His face twisted as he strove to shape words that would not come.
"Keep trying," Iceshadow urged, in a low, compelling voice. "Keep trying, I'm tracking it down." Iceshadow was seeking the root of the compulsion, and reversing it; since Falconsbane had changed his father's will rather than placing a simpler block, it was not a matter of removing a wall. Instead, Starblade's mind had to be altered, set back to normal bit by bit as each compulsion was found and changed, so he could regain the use of all of his mind.
The internal struggle, mirrored in Starblade's face, ceased as Iceshadow found the series of problems, and corrected them one by one.
Darkwind dropped to his knees beside his father, and took the poor, wounded hand in his own. Blood leaked through an improvised bandage. but Starblade managed a faint ghost of a smile, fleeting, and full of pain.
"I made you my enemy," he whispered. "I made you hate me, so that anything I told you to do, you would do the opposite. Then, when M-M-" his face twisted with effort.
"Mornelithe," Darkwind supplied.
Starblade sighed. "When he twisted my thoughts, so that they were no longer my own, I knew that he would want you to take up magic again. If you did, eventually he would find a way to take you, too. through me. And blood of my blood, you would have been vulnerable."
"He almost had what he wanted," Darkwind replied grimly, thinking of all Nyara had told him.
Starblade nodded. "The only way I could think of to protect you was to drive you away from me. So that the more I tried, beneath his compulsion, to bring you back to magic, the more you would fight it. Then when my mind was not my own... you were safe." He looked up tearfully, entreatingly, at his son. "Can you... ever forgive me?" Darkwind blinked away tears. "Of course I can forgive you," he said quickly, and took a deep breath to calm himself He looked up at Iceshadow." How clear is he?" he asked.
Iceshadow shook his head. "I've only begun," the Adept replied, exhaustion blurring his words a little. "It's going to be a long process.
The bastard set the compulsions in a few days, but they've had all this time to work and develop. We'll have to keep him under shield the whole time."
"Put him in the work area," Darkwind suggested. "It has strong shields, and there aren't any apprentices who need it right now. Those shields are the best we have."
"which is why I was not-permitted-to go there," Starblade whispered." The bird would not let me."
"Then that is a good indicator that the shields will hold, don't you think?" Darkwind responded. He started to let go of Starblade's hand, but his father clutched it despite the pain that must have caused.
"Wait," he coughed. "Dawnfire-" Darkwind froze. Iceshadow asked the question he could not manage to get out.
"What about Dawnfire?" the Adept asked. "She's dead."
"No," Starblade said urgently. "The bird was never found, but M-M-his sign was on her body. I think he has her-trapped in her bird. Still alive, but helpless. A-another toy." Starblade's face was twisted, but this time with what he remembered. "It would-please him-very much."
*Chapter Twenty one ELSPETH
The sky burned blue, but eight hooves pounded their own frantic thunder on the earth of the Plains; grass stems lashed their legs and the barrels of the Companions as they fled. Elspeth risked a look back, her hair whipping into her face and making her eyes water. The pack of fluid brown shapes streaming through the grasses behind them seemed a little closer. It was hard to tell for certain; they were visible only as a flowing darkness in the grasses, and the movement of the vegetation as they disturbed it. Then the lead beast leapt up, showing its head, and she was sure of it.
"They're gaining on us!" she shouted at Skif. He looked back, then bent farther down over Cymry's neck like a jockey. She did the same, trying to cut her wind resistance.
The Companions were running as fast as they could-which was very fast, indeed. The ground flowed beneath their hooves at such a rate that after one look that made her dizzy, she kept her eyes fixed ahead. She could not imagine how any creature could be capable of keeping up with them. It seemed impossible that they could be moving this fast.
"What are these things?" she asked Gwena who flattened her ears a little more and rolled her eyes back at her rider.
"I don't know," the Companion replied, bewildered. "I've never heard of anything like them." Sweat streamed down her outstretched neck, and the ends of her mane lashed Elspeth's face and got into her mouth.
"I have," the sword cut in gruffly. "Damn things are magical constructs; beasts put together by an Adept. Probably all they're good for is running." Elspeth looked back again, nervously. The pack leader gave another of those jumps, that took it briefly above the level of the grass stalks; this time showing its head clearly. Its mouth was open, its tongue out like a dog's. All she really saw were the jaws, a mouth full of thumblength fangs.
"Well-running and killing," Need amended. "whatever, they're not of a type I've seen before. that makes them twice as dangerous; I can't tell you what they're capable of."
"Thanks," Elspeth muttered under her breath. She peered ahead, wishing there was any way she could use her distance-viewer. Somewhere on the cliff ahead of them-hopefully somewhere near-was a path like the one they had descended. This trail was next to a waterfall, and she strained her eyes for a glimpse of water streaming down the side of the cliff into the Plains. If they could reach that path, they could probably hold the things off. They might be able to climb it faster than the beasts could; certainly they would be able to hold the narrow trail against their pursuers if they turned to stand at bay.
At the top of that path lay the place circled on the map. Whether or not there was any help for them there-The Companions were getting tired. How long could they keep this pace up Her nose caught the scent of water as they topped a rise, just as she saw the line of green, a line of verdant trees and bushes, at the edge of a long slope, down below them. There was a glint of reflected light from the cliff; she assumed that was the promised waterfall.
She closed her eyes for a moment, and set loose her Farsight; looking for a place to make a stand. There wasn't much else she could do at the moment, other than make certain she was in no danger of being tossed off if Gwena had to make a sudden move.
Nothing at the botto
m of the cliff; no, that was definitely no place to make a stand. The waterfall splashed down onto rocks right beside the beginning of the trail; the rocks were wet and slippery, marginal for booted feet, treacherous for hooves. In fact, the entire path was like that, winding beneath the waterfall at times, skirting the edge of it at others. This was not a straight fall; the water dropped through a series of basins and down many tumbles of rocks, keeping spray to a minimum. It might almost have been sculpted that way, and the path appeared to be an afterthought, cut into the stone around the fall as best as could be.
The path was narrow, too narrow to allow more than one rider at a time. She scanned the entire length of it, and found no place wide enough for the four of them to hold off their followers. If they made a stand, it would have to be at the top.
So she turned her Farsight to the top-and there, at last, was the shelter she had been searching for.
There were ruins up there; tumbles of massive rocks, identifiable only as ruins because of the regular size and shape of the stones, and the general shapes of what might once have been walls. Right where the path reached the top, there was a good place to hole up.
There's magic there," Need said suddenly, looking through Elspeth's eyes."
"Do you see that kind of shimmer? That's magic energy. With luck I can use it to help with defense."
"I don't intend to get close enough to those things to have to use a blade," Elspeth retorted.
"Dunce. I didn't mean for you to fight. I mean to channel my magic through you. I was a fairly good mage. You may even learn something."
Elspeth felt stunned. "I thought you only protected-"
:That was when I was asleep,: the sword said shortly :why don't you see what you can do about picking off some of those beasts? Maybe if you kill one, the others will stop to eat it.: Well, it was worth trying. The long slope gave the Companions some relief; though tiring, they were running with a bit less strain. Gwena's coat was still sweat-foamed, but her breathing beneath Elspeth's legs was easier.
Elspeth pulled her bow from the saddle sheath; freed an arrow from the quiver at her knee. She clamped her legs tight around Gwena's barrel, and turned, sitting up a little higher in her saddle as she did so.
The leader of the pack had a peculiar bounding rhythm to his chase; it Was, she discovered, rather like sighting on a leaping hare. And she had done that so many times she had lost count; hunting had been one of the few ways she could escape the Palace and her rank and position.
Although I wish I had a hawk right now to set on them. A big hawk. With long, long talons...
The leader's bound carried him below the grass; she nocked and loosed-and he leapt right into the arrow's path.
Soundless they were on the chase; soundlessly he fell, and he fell right under the feet of his pack. Whether or not they would-as Need had so gruesomely suggested-stop to eat him, it didn't matter. At least not at the moment, not while at least half the pack tumbled over the body of the leader, and the rest stopped their headlong chase to mill aimlessly around the dead and the fallen.
She nocked and loosed another arrow, and a third, both finding targets, before Gwena carried her out of range. Never once did any of those she hit utter a single sound.
:Good work,: the Companion said, without slowing. :That should buy us some time.:
:Assuming something else doesn't take their place, or join them,: the sword pointed out grimly. :I hate to say this, but I do sense things stirring; energies being disturbed, and some kind of communication going on that I can't read. I'm afraid we're going to have something else on our trail before long.: She didn't say what she was thinking; it wasn't as if Need had willfully called these things up. "Will we have a chance to get up on that path first?"
"I think we'll make it up to the top. But there's more trouble up there. It's at the border of a bad area, and it has its own energies that are reacting to the changes elsewhere. I think you should know that disturbance brings predators and scavengers alike." Well, that was no more than the law of nature. She sheathed the bow again and looked back down their trail. There was nothing immediately in sight.
But there was a dark golden clot of something on the horizon, something tall enough to be visible above the grass, and it was coming closer.
She rather doubted it was a herd of Shin'a'in goats.
The scent of water was stronger; she turned to face forward. The belt of greenery was near enough now to make out individual trees and bushes, and the waterfall dashed down the side of the cliff with a careless gaiety she wished she shared.
She knew what awaited them and held Gwena back a little to let Skif shoot ahead of her. Cymry's headlong pace slowed as she met the slippery rocks of the trail. Gwena's shoulders bunched beneath Elspeth's knees as she prepared to make the climb.
The scramble up the trail was purest nightmare. If it had not been that the Companions were far more surefooted than the Heralds were, and far, far faster even on footing this treacherous, she would have stopped to dismount. As it was, she clung to the saddle with legs and both hands, drenched with water spray and her own sweat of fear. If she dared, she would have closed her eyes. Gwena skidded and slipped on the spray-slick rocks; she went to her knees at least once for every switchback, and there seemed to be hundreds of those. Every time Gwena lurched sideways, Elspeth lurched with her-further unbalancing the Companion and hindering her recovery. The only good thing was that the slower pace enabled Gwena to catch her breath again.
Ahead, Cymry and Skif were in no better shape. That presented a second danger, that they might lose their balance and careen into Gwena and Elspeth, sending all four of them to their deaths.
Gwena might have read her mind; the Companion stopped for a moment, sides heaving, to let Cymry put a little more distance between them. She stood with her head hanging, breathing deeply, extracting everything she could from the brief rest.
Elspeth used the respite to peer through the spray, down to the foot of the trail.
The entire trail was visible from this vantage point, and there was nothing on it except them. Yet. But peering up at her-at least, she presumed they were peering up at her-were several creatures of a darkgold color that would have blended imperceptibly into the grasslands.
They stood out now, only because of the brilliant green of the vegetation below the waterfall. moving around them were some dark-brown slender beasts, whose fluid movements told her that the pack that had pursued them had recovered from the loss of its leader. In fact, there seemed to be more of them.
I think I know what that blot on the horizon was now. I wonder where the other'imnds " came from, though...And mingling with those creatures was something else; black, small animals that hopped rather than walked.
She guessed from their behavior that there was some kind of consultation going on. The black creatures seemed to be the ones in charge, or conveying some kind of orders. As she watched, the thin creatures arrayed themselves below the cliff, providing a kind of rear guard. The golden-brown forms lined up in an orderly fashion, and started up the path with a sinister purposefulness. And the black dots sprouted wings
and rose into the air.
Crows- she realized. Then, as they drew nearer-Dearest gods-they're so big!
They were heading straight for the Heralds. And they could do a great deal of damage with those long, sharp bills, those fierce claws.
Without being prompted by the sword, she pulled her bow again, hoping that dampness hadn't gotten to the string. She nocked and sighted, and released; and repeated the action, filling the air below her with half a dozen arrows.
Only three reached their mark, and one of those was by accident, as a crow flew into the path of one of the arrows while trying to avoid another. Of those three, one was only a wound; it passed through the nearest crow's wing, and the bird spiraled down to the earth, cawing its pain, and keeping itself aloft with frantic flaps of its good wing.
Poor as the marksmanship had been, it was enough to d
eter the rest of the birds. They kited off sideways, out of her arrow range; caught a thermal, and rowed through the air as fast as their wings could flap to vanish over the top of the cliff.
Gwena lurched back into motion, and Elspeth was forced to put her bow away and resume her two-handed clutch on the saddle pommel.
They were barely a third of the way to the top of the cliff and the shelter Of the ruins.
She hoped they would see that shelter-and that what awaited them at the top was not a further nest of foes.
Wherever the crows had gone, they had not managed to herd another clutch of magically-constructed creatures to the ruins to meet them. And they didn't return to harass the Heralds themselves.
Elspeth heaved a sigh of relief that was echoed by Gwena as they approached the edge of the cliff without seeing any further opposition to their progress. They reached the end of the path without meeting any other dangers than the treacherous path itself-though the last third, so high above the floor of the Plains, had put Elspeth's heart in her throat for the entire journey. She tried to use her Farsight to spy out the land ahead, but either her fear or somethi ng U: ,t.;AP f herself interfered her ability to See. She thought the way was clear, but she drew her bow againjust in case it wasn't.
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