upside-down uncapped message capsule upon the bird’s left leg, as if a missive had been lost along with the absent cap.
“Remember, Jean, Zacharie,” said Liaze, “let not the falcons fly until the crow is long gone.”
“Oui, my lady,” replied Jean.
The princess’s gaze swept across the assembly, and with a confidence she did not feel, she said, “My friends, keep well and do not weep, for just as I place my trust in the words of Lady Skuld, so should you. Luc and I shall soon return.”
A feeble cheer rose from the staff, yet not enough to override the weeping.
“Now, Jean,” said Liaze, “release the bird.”
Jean removed the hood from the crow, and the bird looked about and ruffled its feathers. Jean loosened his hold and cast the dark messenger into the air.
Up it flew and circled about as if taking a bearing, and then it shot off and over the trees, and Liaze watched the line of its flight through the chill autumn air for as long as it could be seen.
“Remy, it looks to be heading along Luc’s track when he rode knight-errantry into the Autumnwood, but going in the direction whence Luc came,” Liaze said.
“Yes, Princess,” the armsmaster replied. “But as we said last night, keeping on the exact course of a messenger bird cannot be done.”
“Nevertheless, I go, and, should I come out somewhere else altogether, Lady Skuld said I would find help along the way.”
Liaze took a deep breath and waved to those gathered on the lawn and called out “ Au revoir! For we shall meet again!” She then heeled her horse in the flanks and rode across the lawn and into the woods, towing the other animals after.
Behind her the weeping intensified, though both the warband and the houseguard managed a respectable cheer. And as the princess vanished among the trees, Zoe turned to Remy and said, “Oh, Remy, where is she bound?”
“Sunwise, Zoe,” said Remy. “She rides for the sunwise marge of the Autumnwood, for that’s the way the crow flew. Beyond that, only time and the Fates will tell.”
16
Into the greens and reds and golds and umbers and russets and browns of the Autumnwood rode Liaze: into the embrace of yew and cedar and pine, and of oak and maple and elm, and of cherry and apple and other such trees, all of them readying themselves for a slumber that never comes; into the fragrance of fruits and grains and berries and other ripened harvest everlasting she went, as well as into the bouquet of autumnal blossoms abloom in the sweet loam. Liaze did not look back toward the manor at the members of the staff calling out their good-byes, for to do so would reveal her tears and belie the face of courage she wore. And so, towing a stallion and four gelding packhorses, on she rode, deeper into the woodland, until she could no longer hear the sounds of weeping and farewell.
At last Liaze wiped away the tears on her cheeks, and after a moment she found her voice and reached forward and patted her mount’s neck. “Where will we end up, Pied Agile, eh? Somewhere on the far side of the daystar, I think. May our goal not be too distant, for time is short, and a black mountain I must find, or so Skuld’s rede would have it be:
In the dark of the moon but two moons from now A scheme will be complete,
For on a black mountain an ever-slowing heart Will surely cease to beat.
“It must be Luc’s heart she speaks of, or so it is I deem…
“So it is I fear…
“And we have but this day and fifty-six more ere the dark of the moon two moons from now falls due. Why is it time has so little meaning in Faery except when peril is involved?
“Oh, Agile, I feel the need to gallop! — But where? Along the course a crow did fly is the only thing I know. And even then, I cannot be certain I will hew to its line. And with the twilight boundaries being what they are, an error one way or the other could put me in a realm remote from where I should go.”
As she rode onward, in the trees of the surround and down among the grasses and undergrowth, furtive movement and rustlings kept pace with her progress. And from the corners of her eyes, Liaze could now and then catch glimpses of wee folk trotting alongside or riding small animals or flitting among the branches of the leafy overhead.
Of a sudden, Liaze slapped a palm to her brow. “Ahhh! How stupid of me!” Yet faring at an amiable gait, she looked up into a tree, and called out, “Be there any Sprites among you?”
Moments later, one of the tiny, iridescent-winged creatures flew down and managed to stay hovering in front of Liaze, even though the princess was yet moving forward, the wee being drifting backwards to match her pace. Liaze could see the Sprite was a female, for, as with all of her Kind-male and female alike-she wore no garments whatsoever. Flaming red hair this tiny Sprite had, and she held a strung bow in hand, and a miniscule quiver of arrows was strapped to her thigh.
“Yes, Princess?”
“Ah, good,” said Liaze. “You know me.”
The Sprite cocked her head and asked, “Doesn’t everyone?”
Liaze laughed and the Sprite giggled in return. “And your name, little one?” asked Liaze.
“Feuille, my lady.”
“Ah me, Feuille, I was so stupid this morning-”
A look of shock briefly registered on the face of the hovering Sprite. “My lady, I know not what to say. How could you possibly be, um…”
“Stupid,” said Liaze.
“Your word, not mine,” said Feuille, even so, she grinned.
Liaze gestured to her forebow. “Alight, Feuille, and I’ll tell you why I am so stupid.”
The just-under-two-inch-tall Sprite settled on the very tip of the high-arched saddlebow, and Liaze said, “This morning I set loose a messenger bird, one I meant to follow: a crow.”
“A corvus?” Feuille leapt into the air, her wings beating frantically. “That was your crow with the message capsule? Oh, Princess, why did you-?”
“Shush, tiny one, and settle down,” said Liaze. “It was not my crow, but rather one that belongs to a witch, a witch, I add, who has done me great harm, and one who might do the world great harm as well.”
Somewhat reluctantly, Feuille lit once more on the forebow. “Crows are our deadly enemies, Princess. Why, if they get a chance, they’ll take Sprites right out of the air or from nests or perches and swallow them whole. Why do you think I have this bow, these arrows? Crows, that’s why. The whole of Autumnwood Spritedom has been on alert these last several days, for there have been entirely too many of those black killers flying above your demesne.”
“Ah, good!” exclaimed Liaze.
Again, Feuille’s face registered shock. “Good? You think that’s good?”
“Oh, not that crows fly over the Autumnwood, Feuille. Rather that the entirety of Spritedom is alert for them. You see, I need to follow the line of those messengers, and if the Sprites know the birds’ course, that will be an immense help to me in running down their mistress.”
“Oh, well, that’s different, my lady,” said Feuille, relaxing. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place?”
“Well, that’s why I was so stupid,” said Liaze, “for, in hindsight, before releasing the witch’s bird I should have thought to ask the Sprites of Autumnwood to follow the crow and let me know whence it flew.”
“Hindsight you say, my lady? Well in hindsight many things are, um, er…”
“Stupid,” said Liaze, smiling. “Still, I am so glad I met you, Feuille, for Lady Skuld said-”
“Lady Skuld?” blurted Feuille, nearly taking to flight. But at a small calming gesture from Liaze the Sprite took
