I suppose it would have to be purple, or something.
There hadn't even been birds in the sky.
Up ahead the trail forked. One branch led down, into a broad valley, while the other curved off and away around the side of a rocky hillside. Either could have been the right road.
But there was a third path, almost invisible, a narrow goat track leading up over the crest of the hill at right angles to their present course.
You will know what to do when the time comes.
Certainty descended over Kellen like an invisible cloak. This was the moment the Wild Magic had prepared him for. Now was the time to pay his Price.
'Which way?' Jermayan said, reining Valdien to a stop.
'This way,' Kellen said, pointing toward the hill.
'Don't be ridiculous,' Jermayan scoffed. 'It goes almost straight up— and probably back the way we came, besides. The animals will never make it, and—Kellen! Come back here!'
But Kellen wasn't listening. There. There! Something—someone — needs me. Is in trouble! He couldn't have turned aside from the path now if he'd wanted to. And he didn't want to. 'Come on,' he said to Shalkan. 'We've got to hurry.'
He didn't know where the sudden sense of urgency came from, but the unicorn accepted it without question. Shalkan bounded up the goat track and lunged along it, as surefooted as the goats it was meant for. Kellen clung to the saddle, ignoring Jermayan's frustrated shouting somewhere behind him.
They reached the top of the hill, and Shalkan broke into a bounding run. Kellen didn't know where they were going, but the demand of his obligation drew him onward, and he followed it without hesitation.
In the valley ahead, there was actually some healthy-looking vegetation, trees, a stream—not lush, by any standards, but far more livable than the country they'd been passing through. Shalkan bounded over the stream, and headed up the hillside, following that goat track around the curve of the hill, and a small stone hut appeared up ahead, just under the crest of the hill, on the lee side—a shepherd's croft, undoubtedly, the sort of crude construction of stone, mud, and thatch that the natives of the Lost Lands might build.
It was the first he'd seen—after their encounter with the Centaur-shepherd, he and Jermayan had steered well clear of any possible locals— but it didn't take any great act of imagination to figure out what the hut represented, and what sort of inhabitant it had, especially with the small herd of agitated goats milling and bleating in the stone pen beside the door. The only question was, why had the magic drawn him here?
Who was it that was in trouble?
Shalkan slowed from his bounding gallop to a fast trot as they drew closer, caution overtaking urgency.
Then, shattering the silence, ringing out across the valley, came screams. A woman's screams, coming from inside the hut.
Kellen didn't have to think twice. He kicked free of the stirrups and vaulted from Shalkan's back, running toward the door of the hut.
The hut was small and dark, but enough light came in through the tiny windows to allow Kellen to see that someone large had someone else—the woman who had screamed, almost certainly—trapped in a corner of the hut, savagely beating her with a short club. That was enough for him. He crammed himself inside—there wasn't a lot of room, and three people seriously crowded the tiny hut—and grabbed the man's arm before he could land another blow.
If the shepherd was surprised to have his beating interrupted by a knight in full armor, he wasn't surprised enough to keep from attacking Kellen. He swung his club savagely at Kellen's head, and only Kellen's helmet saved him from a nasty concussion. The club was thick wood, wrapped in bands of black lead. It was a deadly weapon, meant for killing, and the blow rattled Kellen's teeth and left his ears ringing.
There wasn't enough room here for Kellen to draw or use his sword, but he had his fists, and his armored gauntlets, and plenty of muscles from Jermayan's sword-training and his time in the Wildwood. And he'd taken—and given—enough beatings growing up back in the City to know what to do in a fight.
But this wasn't the place to try.
He wrestled the man around, then rammed his shoulder into the bully's gut and shoved, carrying them both outside. They tumbled over together, but the man was swift, strong, and agile, and scrambled to his feet as quickly as Kellen did.
