“Less talking,” Ahkhan said. “More running.”
She and the stranger—Kee—exchanged a look of amusement despite the peril of their situation. She was pretty sure he was thinking the same thing she was. Brothers . . . I can eviscerate anyone who is the least bit of a threat to me, but Ahkhan thinks he needs to protect me! If they lived to get to the border, this would be very, very funny. And even now, it was funny enough.
“If we can keep up this pace, we’ll get to the hills before sundown,” the other stranger—Cousin Tory—observed. “Do we go on through the night or hunt for a place to hole up and rest?”
“We make the most of daylight, but if we can find a shelter, we should make use of it.” Ahkhan stared ahead, chin set grimly. “Once the demon-summoners know of Sira’s escape, the night will not be safe.”
She shuddered, remembering the last time she had fought the things—and that was when they’d had orders not to harm her! The Karsite priests would surely not hold them back this time.
“Is it even possible to hide from them?” Tory asked.
“I do not know,” Ahkhan confessed.
“Nor I,” said Sira, “But I can create magical shields, and the air afrinn can create illusions, and perhaps between the two we can conceal ourselves from them.” Then Ahkhan increased his pace a little, and she had to leave off talking to save her breath for running.
Which was probably his intention.
What was not his intention, of course, was that she would set her mind to analyzing what had just happened between herself and Kee to keep herself from thinking about the grueling run, at least until she could get into that state where the run became a blur and she forgot about the sweat running down her back and the ache in her legs.
That would come eventually. Thinking about Kee would make it come sooner.
“Are you a Mage?” she asked him directly, after thinking about Mage-magic and Mind-magic for a while. Because it didn’t seem to her that a Mind-magic power could have alerted Eakkashet to Kee’s presence outside the tower.
“I don’t know,” Kee said, panting a little, and then taking a quick drink from his water bottle. “Ahkhan says I am. But Mages can’t live in Valdemar—”
“So clearly his power was repressed in Valdemar, probably by the same things that drive Mages insane there,” Ahkhan said impatiently. “Is there a point to this?”
“Yes, brother,” she replied. “Kee, you may be untrained, but there is power in you, and you may be able to tap into yet more power from the world around you. And although you can only wield it clumsily, in our case, that is much better than not at all. If something occurs to you to do, then do it, and do not think about it. A clumsy blow can still remove an enemy, and I am not a powerful Mage, I merely use what power I have very cleverly.”
Kee definitely brightened up a bit at the encouragement. And as she smiled at him, she felt that intoxication she had been hoping for come over her, and she let herself open to it.
There was no more talk, then, until they did reach the hills, where they paused on the top of one—
Just in time to see a swift form come darting down out of the sun and through the “umbrella” of the air afrinn, who squeaked in protest. Accustomed to having Windhover land on her forearm, Sira automatically brought her left arm up, and the creature alighted on it for a moment, before hopping to the ground and taking the form of Eakkashet.
“I have good news and bad news,” the afrinn said without a greeting. “The good news is that most, if not all, of the Karsites in the prison are either disabled or tending the injured. The bad news is that they sent out riders to all the ones guarding the roads into the plain before we could stop them. It will take time for them to assemble at the prison and more time for them to get on the hunt, but they will come, and Borkase cannot accomplish much against mounted men in the open. I told him to do what he could, then see if he could contact the others. Do you want me to go back and join him? I do not want to set fire to the plain, so please do not ask that of me.”
“I don’t want you to set fire to the plain either, Eakkashet,” Ahkhan replied, before Sira could say anything. “That would be so wasteful that it would shame us for the rest of our lives. And it could prove to be as much a danger to us as to them. Please stay with us. I am Ahkhan, Sira’s brother.”
“Then we should go. I will scout ahead for hiding places.” The afrinn transformed again; this time Sira saw plainly what form he had taken—a firehawk, appropriately enough, a bird that was known to fearlessly hunt the edges of wildfires, preying on the creatures the flames drove from their burrows and hiding places.
Eakkashet dove under the air afrinn’s bubble this time and winged away to the north.
“We must concentrate on leaving little to no trace now, not on speed,” Ahkhan said, looking severely at Kee and Tory. Kee flushed, but Tory just shrugged.
“Good thing we both got Sleepgiver training in doing just that,” her cousin replied, in what was not quite a mocking voice, and not quite something Ahkhan could take exception to.
So they resumed their trek, this time being careful to walk on loose sand, which would hold no trace of discernable footprints, or rock, which would hold nothing at all, picking their way across the valleys between the hills, still heading north and now west as well, as the sun sank behind them and cast long shadows that they tried to remain in. And when they had to venture into the sun, it was where nothing was going to see the long shadows that they cast. The air afrinn’s illusion could do nothing about the sun, which now betrayed that they were very much larger than a family of desert hares or even a small herd of prong-deer.
The sun had dropped down behind the hills, the sky aflame, and Sira was very much afraid they were going to have to make do with sheltering under brush, when Eakkashet came winging back.
Taking his two-legged form, but a version in which the fires of his being were so subdued that his surface was gray ash, he waved to them to follow.
On the other side of the hill was a deeply cut dry wash. And Eakkashet leaped down into it—a distance that would have broken her legs, but, then, he was an afrinn. She and the others took the chance while there was still light to see and free-climbed down the rocks; and there, just where Eakkashet was standing, was the water afrinn and a deeply carved cave in the cliff.
But this was a wash . . . and the presence of that cave alone—
“Don’t worry,” Eakkashet said. “Atheser will keep you safe if there is a storm and water comes down. And Merirat will make an illusion of stone over the mouth of the cave once we are in.”
Sira was not inclined to argue with him. She was the first to duck inside, to discover that the cave was deep enough that all six of them could stretch out comfortably and high enough that they weren’t going to crack their heads on the overhang if they sat up. And it seemed to have a floor of nice, deep sand—possibly washed in from floods. She tucked herself into the back with a suppressed groan as her leg muscles reminded her that she had not done running exercises in a while.
Kee was right behind her and took a spot at her left, between her and the entrance. Tory followed, cast them both a quizzical look, and picked a spot opposite them. Ahkhan was last, and—well, if it hadn’t been Ahkhan, she’d have said he plonked himself down next to her on her right in a disapproving huff.
Actually—she gave him a sidelong glance and took a moment to read his expression in the gloom—that was exactly what he’d done.
Eakkashet and the water afrinn followed. Eakkashet planted himself right at the entrance, and the air afrinn bubbled the entrance over, faintly distorting the view to the outside.
Oh . . . I do not want to move . . . but I really must do this. She groaned again as she got to her knees and eased past the fire afrinn to a point where she could reach the air creature. “I’m going to feed you more power,” she told it and was rewarded wit
h the brief appearance of the lizard-head in the midst of the bubble and a faint creak that sounded like gratitude.
“Can I help?” Kee asked instantly, causing her to mentally bless him.
“I should think so,” she told him, as Ahkhan frowned. “Feeding power to another is one of the first things our Mages learn to do. Just use Mage Sight, watch what I do, and try to do it yourself.”
Kee crawled on his hands and knees to get beside her and watch as she gathered power, gently put her hands into the air afrinn, and began feeding it.
“I—think I feel some of that same energy flowing nearby, and I think I can reach it,” Kee said uncertainly. “It’s like a little river. Should I try?”
Sira felt both startled and pleased. If Kee had found a ley-line, and if he could tap into it—he was a much better Mage, even untaught, than she was! “If you feel something the least wrong pull back—but try it!”
Kee closed his eyes to concentrate and tentatively reached out one hand to the afrinn. And to Sira’s Mage Sight, he was like a river of power flowing into the creature, as opposed to her trickle.
The air afrinn gave a little shiver, and he pulled back, opening his eyes again. “Did I do that right?” he asked anxiously.
“I think you filled him up!” she replied. The reptile head appeared again (which was an extremely odd effect) and hissed vigorously. “Do you want to try for the water afrinn, and Eakkashet as well?”
“I would not reject this notion,” Eakkashet spoke up. “And if our friend is to supply you with water, he should be fed as well.”
Looking much more sure of himself this time, Kee closed his eyes and gently laid his hands on the water afrinn. And when he pulled back, the creature wagged the fin it had instead of a tail and burbled.
Kee turned his attention to Eakkashet and then hesitated. Sira didn’t blame him in the least. Putting your hands on something that looked like a pile of burning coals was . . . daunting to say the least.
“Don’t touch me,” the afrinn said. “Just hold up your hands, palms toward me, and let me do the rest.”
An expression of relief washed over Kee’s face before he closed his eyes and did as Eakkashet had asked.
Behind her, Tory gasped. She didn’t blame him. The power flowing between them was so strong it was actually visible, like a ray of sun shining through the clouds, except that it went from Kee’s hands to the afrinn’s body.
By this point, the sun had set completely, and the little cave was lit by the afrinn’s glow and the power flowing between them.
At length, the afrinn sighed with content and said, “That is sufficient,” and made a little gesture. The light from Kee’s hands went out.
“Are you sure?” Kee asked. “Because I feel as if I could keep that up for candlemarks.”
“As certain as you are that you are replete when you have eaten a fine dinner,” the afrinn replied. Sira glanced over at Ahkhan. He looked impressed in spite of himself. She scooted back to the place she had left, and Kee took his place beside her again.
Ahkhan seemed to be keeping a very wary eye on him, but when Kee made no move to touch Sira, not even to hold her hand again, he relaxed.
And that was when they heard voices.
All the humans froze, and Sira strained as hard as she could to hear more clearly. But all she got were fragments coming from above, up on the edge of the wash.
It was all in Karsite, though, so it was obvious that the hunt for them was up. Mostly it seemed to be men calling to one another to report that they had found nothing.
Which is monumentally stupid, since they’re just telling us where they are!
Eakkashet somehow dimmed himself to nothing, which was probably a good precaution. And the temperature in their little cave plummeted. Sira hugged her cloak around herself and wished she had more layers.
Peering past the black shape that was Eakkashet, up through the wavering view through the air afrinn, Sira got a glimpse of torchlight as someone looked down into the dry wash. “Nothing down here!” he called, his voice echoing off the rocks, up and down the wash. Other voices answered him in the distance, as all of them froze.
They didn’t dare move, and Sira was certain all of them understood that without saying. The illusion of rock over their hiding place might hold, but not if they made any sound at all.
She was just glad she’d gotten into a comfortable position before the Karsites overran their hiding place.
She did wonder, however, how the idiots expected to actually see anything down in this wash when they were half-blinded by their own torches.
But maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe they didn’t care about that.
Maybe, in fact, most of them didn’t actually want to find her. Maybe after seeing whatever carnage Eakkashet and Borkase had wrought on the prison, they were just going through the motions. And as long as it was night, their commanders wouldn’t be able to tell whether or not they were really doing their jobs.
But don’t count on that, she reminded herself. Never count on anything with the Karsites. She’d learned her lesson of being overconfident, and she did not intend to repeat that mistake. Ever.
They all waited, breathlessly, until the voices died away in the distance. And then they waited a while longer before Ahkhan broke the silence by whispering, “Is anyone hungry?”
“I have dried beef,” Sira whispered back. Eakkashet increased his light and the warmth coming from him. By Eakkashet’s dim glow, they exchanged food.
“Wait a moment! Don’t eat the meat! I have an idea!” Kee exclaimed—also in a whisper. He took off his helm, filled it with water and had Eakkashet hold it while he dumped his share of the dried meat into it. Immediately after that, Tory, Sira, and Ahkhan did the same. That gave them broth to dip their trail biscuit into to soften it, which was a vast improvement over the otherwise tasteless things. And when the helm cooled down again—which Eakkashet was somehow able to make happen quickly—they all had warm cooked beef.
“How did you make the helm—I mean, pot—get cool so fast?” Tory marveled in a low voice. “I know you must have done it, Eakkashet.”
“I am fire. I can do anything with heat and flame,” the afrinn replied, with that strange half-circle of light showing in his “head” again. The water afrinn burbled, though whether that was a laugh or in agreement, Sira couldn’t tell. “Especially thanks to all the help from your outlander friend.”
Had she introduced them to the afrinn? She couldn’t remember. She was so tired, and now that she wasn’t moving, her legs were really heavy and sore, and it was hard to think of anything else. “I’m probably repeating myself,” she said, and even if the others didn’t notice, she could tell she had begun to slur her words a little with fatigue. “Eakkashet, this is Kee, and this is Tory. Tory is distantly related to me. Kee is not. They are both from the Kingdom of Valdemar. This is my brother Ahkhan. There is a long and probably complicated story about how they came to help me. Do you want to hear it?”
“I am very fond of stories,” the afrinn said with interest.
“Then I’ll tell it,” Tory volunteered.
He began, and Sira listened at first, but eventually her eyes grew too heavy to keep open, her head too heavy to remain sitting, and the warmth of Eakkashet’s power too soporific to allow her to remain awake.
So she curled up on her side with her head pillowed on her arm and drifted off to the sound of Tory’s soothing whisper.
* * *
• • •
Tory finished the story. The fire-creature did that unsettling thing that passed for a smile. And Ahkhan looked over at Kee and glowered, because at some point between when Sira had fallen asleep and now, Sira’s head had ended up in Kee’s lap.
Tory sighed. “Enough, Ahkhan.”
“Enough what?” Ahkhan growled, turning on him.
“We
both get it. You don’t approve of Kee being attracted to your sister, or her to him. You’ve made that abundantly clear to all of us, including her. I thought you trusted her.”
“I do!” Ahkhan spat. Tory sighed. This might take a while.
“I thought you trusted her judgment,” he said, patiently, and in as nonjudgmental a tone as he could manage. “Everything you’ve said about her was to assure us she could take care of herself. So either you don’t and she can’t, or you’re doing what every single brother in the history of the world has done and decided there is no man good enough for her without bothering to consult her on her feelings. So which is it?”
Tory had decided to go straight onto this aggressive stance here and now for several reasons. First, they were all stuck here until morning, or the Karsites moved on, or both. So Ahkhan couldn’t go storming out. Second, Sira was out cold; he was more than empathic enough to tell that. So she wouldn’t be embarrassed. Third, if he didn’t get this out in the open now, it was only going to get worse. And it was likely to get worse at the worst possible time.
“I wasn’t—I’m not—” Ahkhan began indignantly, and then he deflated, abruptly. He stayed quiet for a very long time, long enough that Tory wondered whether he had just made things worse all by himself. “You two came all the way out here with me for no good reason,” he admitted. “And there is a very good chance that we are all going to die at the hands of the Karsites. We should not argue. You’re right.”
“Well, what are you going to do about it?” Tory asked sensibly. Well, that worked out better than I thought. This was the time to do this. Ambushed him, he can’t get away, and we have death tromping around up above us, which gives a fellow a lot of incentive to be honest. He was a good bit unhappy that Ahkhan seemed to be of the opinion that they were all going to die, of course . . .
. . . but he was going to try not to think of that right now.
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