Renar stood at his mother's shoulder, reading with her. Lenelle studied every letter with elaborate care.
Elyana turned to the cleric, who held tightly to the key that was his holy symbol, as if by squeezing it he might find strength.
"You say you cannot cure the curse," Elyana said. "Can you forestall it?"
The cleric mused over that possibility and then nodded slowly. "I may delay it with countercurses and healing. Any such delay would be expensive, however, because it would be so draining. And it would not restore him."
Expense. Clerics of Abadar mouthed pretty things, but with them it always came down to money. Though she herself had been raised by humans and appreciated money as a resource, the hoarding of it remained innately mysterious to Elyana, and more than a little preposterous.
Lenelle frowned at Elyana. "I don't care what you say about this Arcil. We've really no choice, have we? We've got to start looking for this statue. Is it, too, hidden in some special place you know about?"
"No. Lenelle, we cannot trust Arcil. And there is another alternative."
"There is?" Renar seized hold of this new hope eagerly. "What is it?"
Elyana met Lenelle's eyes. "Arcil deliberately kept me occupied today," she said, "though I didn't know it at the time. He sent a creature to kill my horse and distract me so I would be nowhere close when he struck Stelan."
For the first time that night, Lenelle took fuller stock of Elyana, searching for wounds or other signs of injury. There was nothing to see, and Elyana could guess the woman's thoughts by her changing expression. Elyana knew that she might as well have stepped whole from Lenelle's memory of the day she'd come riding up at Stelan's side twenty-one years before.
As an orphaned elf, Elyana had grown up awkward and gangly amongst humans, self-conscious about her appearance. As she'd aged into her slim height, she had at first been pleased and astonished by the attentions humans granted her. She had long since grown tired of them, however, and resented having to guard something so simple as a smile lest it be taken as an invitation to courtship. Worse were the reactions of some women. Elyana had never fully understood why Stelan would set her aside for the formal and sometimes autocratic Lenelle, and it was easy to guess that Lenelle wondered herself. At forty, the human was still pretty, though there was gray in her hair and her waistline had broadened. Still, she spent an inordinate amount of time on the appearance of things, be they the arrangement of furniture in the keep, the tailoring of Renar's tunics, or the arrangement of her hair. Elyana knew from the gossip of Lenelle's often disgruntled handmaids that the baroness had spent large sums on rare Chelish cosmetics for her skin, that she frequently tasked servants to brush her hair for a half-hour or more, and that she sometimes dropped a poisonous belladonna extract into her eyes to enlarge her pupils. Elyana had been aghast when she'd learned that, until she remembered Stelan once praising Elyana's eyes as huge and luminous, their violet so vibrant that their color might be seen from across a room.
Lenelle's competitive drive mystified Elyana—Stelan had long ago made his choice. If his decision had come down to appearance alone, surely he would have picked Elyana, whose auburn hair hung straight with minimal effort, whose skin barely tanned and never wrinkled, and who never had to be cinched into her daily wear with the help of servants. Elyana would never have bothered with the fussy, restrictive dresses that were Lenelle's custom. Today, as usual, she wore loose brown pants and calf-high riding boots. The ties of her weathered leather buskin were loose, and the white shirt with its tight sleeves was rumpled beneath it. Her hair was tied back with a simple leather strap.
"You look well," Lenelle said, her tone cool. "I'm glad you returned unscathed. What happened to the beast?"
"I slew the thing. Arcil must have been close, to have attacked Stelan and summoned the shadow hound. And he must remain close, if he plans to send a creature here later tonight. I can track the monster back to him."
"I thought you said he could not be found," Lenelle pointed out.
"He won't be found by Drelm." The thought of the half-orc blundering around in the darkness after Arcil with a handful of armsmen and a mob of villagers was almost laughable.
"What are you going to do?" Renar asked, then answered his own question with another. "You mean to find him and force him to cure father?"
"I do."
"I forbid it!" Lenelle's voice rose in anger. "What if you're wrong? What if you make this wizard angry? What will he do then?"
"We are in combat," Elyana said, barely polite. She breathed deep, forcing calm. "Arcil thinks our back is to the wall. It's time to strike."
"That's what father would say," Renar agreed. He turned to the baroness. "Mother, he would not permit blackmail. We shouldn't either."
"I don't mean for the wizard to go unpunished. Not forever. But now ..." Lenelle's voice faltered. "I don't wish ...your father ..." The woman took a deep breath and raised her head regally. Elyana realized that Lenelle was close to the breaking point and that now, at this moment, their similarities outweighed their differences.
"Lenelle," she said gently, "I can find Arcil."
The gaze of the baroness measured her guardedly.
"I have never managed a household," Elyana continued, "nor raised a child, nor hosted a gathering of nobles. But tracking, fighting—these things I know. Give me your leave."
Lenelle's eyes softened, though she still frowned uncertainly.
"Let us ride," Renar agreed. "Elyana can track anything."
"No," Lenelle said sharply.
For a brief moment Elyana thought the baroness was forbidding action, and opened her mouth to protest.
But Lenelle spoke on. "I'll not risk losing you both."
Elyana understood that the baroness meant both husband and son. Not her.
"Mother—" Renar said, only to be cut off.
"You will stay." Lenelle lifted her chin. "Elyana will go." She turned to the elf. "But you should not go alone. We have our own magic worker, remember? Take Kellius. And take Captain Drelm and some soldiers."
Elyana bowed her head. "If you wish." So far as she knew, the young wizard Kellius was not especially powerful, but he might prove useful.
He might also end up dead, for Arcil surely outclassed him.
She wasn't nearly as worried about Drelm's survival. The half-orc was tough enough to endure a pounding, and there was an outside chance he'd be useful distracting any backup forces Arcil might have with him.
"We will ride light," Elyana told the baroness. "I want no others. And both men must know that I am in charge." She spoke on as Lenelle opened her mouth to object. "I know Arcil. They do not."
Lenelle cleared her throat. "The captain is a trained warrior."
Elyana's eyes narrowed.
"And the head of the baron's guard," Lenelle continued. "I'm sure—"
"I lead," Elyana snapped.
Lenelle's eyebrows rose in outrage. Elyana took a single step forward, and Lenelle, suddenly uncomfortable, retreated as the elf spoke on, her voice low, passion barely leashed.
"I've walked Golarion for almost two hundred years, Lenelle. I've faced things that would kill Drelm in a single blow and shatter your mind if you even glimpsed them. I will lead."
Lenelle cleared her throat. "Very well," she said, managing dignity.
Renar was either oblivious to the tension or incredibly single-minded. "Mother," he said, "I really think I should go with—"
"Do as your mother says," Elyana commanded. After a moment, she added more gently, "Find the statue. If this doesn't go well, you're going to need it. And besides, you need the rest. You've been helping me in the pastures all day."
"I need rest? What of you?"
Elyana bowed her head slightly. Renar had a point. "Allow me a few moments to center myself, a
nd I will be ready. Perhaps a small meal."
Elyana's meager wants were quickly tended to, the cook understanding from long experience that she preferred her meat rare, her vegetables fresh and crisp.
She sat down to eat in the empty mead hall, dark save for the hearth fire. When Kellius and Drelm arrived she set down the slice of young green pepper she'd been chewing and tried not to look longingly at the cushioned bench left of the hearth. Fifteen minutes would have seen her a long way toward recuperating her energy.
Kellius bowed his head, restraining a quirky, lopsided smile. A leather pouch was slung over one shoulder and dangled to his waist opposite. Tall and rawboned, with large hands, he looked more like a farmhand who'd forgotten to eat for a few weeks than a wizard. Most magic workers of Elyana's acquaintance had been at best self-absorbed, but Kellius was neither prickly nor unpleasant, and his homely face spread easily in a grin. "Milady." He bowed his head to her.
Drelm's stocky frame and stance were far more imposing than the wizard's, no matter that Kellius was just as tall. A mixed heritage marred his otherwise even features with a blocky forehead and fangs that jutted up from his lower lip. His skin, though coarse, was nearly human in the flickering hearthlight, showing only a hint of green. His silvery hair, reddened by reflected flame, was thick and immaculate, tied back in a tail. The baron's cloth tabard concealed a goodly portion of Drelm's scale mail, but Elyana knew that the whole of it was polished to a high sheen even if only a few inches showed above the tabard collar. He carried his dark helm in the crook of an arm.
"Lady Elyana," Drelm said. His voice was rough, low and level.
"Captain. Mage Kellius."
"The baroness says we are to track the wizard who cursed the baron." Drelm's voice betrayed his eagerness. He was always like that, she thought, like a fighting dog. One with ferocious power and murderous impulses.
Her disdain for him did not show in her voice. "That we are, Captain. But we must take him alive if we are to save Stelan."
Drelm nodded once.
"We must ride swiftly," Elyana told them both. "And detour through the Plane of Shadow, to track the beast."
"The Plane of Shadow?" Drelm repeated.
"Lady," Kellius drawled, "I have no shadow magic."
"I do," she said simply, and saw the mage's face brighten in curiosity. The half-orc's narrowed in suspicion. He looked more bestial that way.
"We face a wizard well versed in shadow magics. I know him of old, and he is ruthless. He is likely to employ a handful of warriors to guard his person. Kellius, I've seen you create fire, and I've heard you can cast lighting. How well can you handle those spells?"
"I know what I'm about," he said easily.
She found it refreshing that the wizard was neither falsely humble nor arrogant, and she bobbed her head in approval. Kellius was more a horticulturist and scholar than anything else; Stelan had hired him three years ago as a matter of general principle, and the baron had warmed quickly to the wizard. "Arcil is clever," she told them both, "but tends to be linear with his tactics. He's smart, but I think we can outfight him if we're fast and wily. Do you understand?"
"Yes," Drelm answered gruffly. Kellius bowed his head.
"Good. Let's ride." Elyana started to turn away.
"The men will be ready shortly," Drelm said. "I sent a runner down to the village to gather them."
"We're not taking any others with us."
"Why not?" Drelm asked. "We have fifteen men-at-arms and forty villagers who can—"
"We ride swiftly, and we keep the expedition small, the better to sneak up on Arcil."
Drelm growled. "We have more than enough men to overwhelm him. If he is so powerful a wizard—"
Elyana cut him off. "If we take those men, all we do is condemn them to death."
Drelm's scowl deepened.
Elyana's patience had been stretched to the limit this night. She was tired and sad, and it took little to fan her simmering irritation to rage. "I am in charge," she said, her tone like ice. "Are you with me or not?"
The half-orc's lower jaw moved back and forth, shifting his projecting teeth. Finally he assented. "I'll follow you."
"Glad to hear it," Elyana said. "Let's go."
Chapter Three
Shadow Ride
Drelm was a practiced horseman, but the wizard was no great talent, and insisted on riding with his narrow shoulders hunched forward no matter Elyana's instruction. She gave up after the third attempt. There were more important things to worry about. If Kellius survived all this, he would be sore in the morning. So be it.
She trusted neither man to pick out her trail from the pasture, and chafed at the necessity of leading the wizard slowly through the darkness, his human eyes far inferior to hers and the half-orc's. At this rate it would be almost an hour before they arrived at Calda's body. Then the tracking would begin, and there was no way of knowing how long it would take, provided she would really be able to follow the beast's trail through the Plane of Shadow.
She still wore the ring that opened the portal to that strange realm, but the last time she'd actually employed it, she, Arcil, Vallyn, and Stelan were riding for their lives from Galtan soldiers. She couldn't quite recall if both twins had been with them. Probably. And it was probably before Stelan had begun courting Lenelle.
In the years since, she'd often looked at the dull black stone, thinking that she should drop it into a keepsake box, for it was hardly useful in her day-to-day life. She supposed it was a reminder of other days, and friends, and tried not to dwell too much on the fact that it was Stelan who'd slid it toward her while they divided Lathroft's spoils. Sometimes she wondered if he even remembered he'd given her a ring before Lenelle, and then she mocked herself for her sentimentality and thought it better to put the thing aside.
Somehow she always slipped it onto her finger each morning.
After they left the keep they stopped only once, at Elyana's cottage beside the stables. There she donned her leather armor and took up her silver arrows, a little surprised to learn the feathers remained in pretty good shape after all these years.
When they finally reached the battle site, Elyana found a wolverine growling over Calda's carcass. Typical of its kind, the animal was ready to fight any or all of them over the meat. Drelm grumbled and drew his axe, but Elyana bade him let be and led them to the back of the thicket.
Drelm dismounted and followed Elyana as she trod lightly over the ground, his heavy footfalls crunching down rotting leaves and sticks. Elyana waved him back. She felt his eyes upon her as she searched over the ground, his impatience like a spear at her back.
"Time's wasting." Drelm said loudly. "I thought you meant to take us to some magical land."
"Patience," she said.
She decided to ignore his low-voiced growl. On a clear night like tonight she saw almost as well as she did during daylight. After only a short while she discovered a print. Then another. And another. The beast had come from the north. She stood and whistled.
Persaily trotted over immediately and Elyana vaulted into her saddle.
"Find something?" Drelm asked needlessly.
"I have the shadow hound's trail," she said. "Follow me."
Follow they did. Drelm either had the good sense or the natural inclination to let her ride several horse lengths ahead. Elyana did not look up at the familiar twinkling patterns to find horse and hunter, monsters and prey shining in the firmament. Her focus was only upon the earth, and she tuned out the croaking of frogs, the occasional far-off call of an owl. Long years of practice and her inborn skill enabled her to detect the prints of the beast in the soil and its passage through the steppe grass from horseback. The task was made simpler in that the thing had proceeded in a straight line. She had but to trace that line to its other end to come upon the sum
moning point, and she could already guess where it was likely to be.
Another quarter-hour passed. The trail led up toward a rocky knoll. Elyana slid out of her saddle and stilled Persaily with a word. The horse waited patiently, ears erect, turning her head to search the distance. Lifting a hand to her allies to signal a halt, Elyana left them with the mounts and started soundlessly up the little hill alone.
She climbed through the sand and gravel and little bushes, reaching the flat top a few minutes later. Lying prone, she picked out the remains of the old watchtower perched on Ostivai Hill, raising its broken outline against the stars a mile to the northwest. Would Arcil really be that obvious?
Yes, she thought. Arcil habitually underestimated the intelligence of others.
She kept low as she crawled out to examine a flurry of prints. She did not want to alert any distant watchers to her position.
The tracks told her almost everything she needed, and a savage smile rose on her lips. From here the beast's tracks began. There were the tracks of its summoner, who'd come up the knoll from the north and then stood to work magic. Two large men wearing boots had accompanied him, but had stood well clear, likely because they were uncomfortable with the magical energies. Guards.
Her musings were disrupted by the sound of heavy booted feet scuffing soil and crushing sticks. Her hand slipped instinctively for a weapon and then she cursed softly, realizing it must be Drelm. She flung herself around and crawled swiftly, reaching the edge just as the half-orc rose into view on the slope. Her sudden appearance startled him and he lifted his throwing axe.
"I motioned you to stay put," Elyana hissed.
"What's taking so long?"
"I said to wait," she snapped. She slid down beside him feet first, readying a short lecture, but the half-orc spoke first.
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