down—something, anything she could do to get far enough ahead of it that it couldn't catch her. A cold certainty began to creep through her that she didn't possess the necessary tools. She was just learning magic, just beginning to make the sort of progress that would lead her to a command of real power.
Maybe she could use the Elfstones. Maybe the thing was possessed of magic, after all. They had been referring to it ascreature rather thanhuman being all along. It certainly looked to be so from the brief glimpses they had caught of it in Anatcherae. So maybe the Stones would work against it.
Or she could try summoning the wind that she had used to sweep it off the deck of theSkatelow. The wind had worked once. There wasn't any reason it shouldn't work again. That was a magic she could safely command. That was a weapon she could put to use. She waited some more. The minutes dragged by. The creature did not appear.
Something was wrong. It had been too long. It should have been here by now, if it was coming. She hated that she couldn't see what was happening beyond the clearing. It left her blind and helpless to do anything but stand there and hope they had guessed right about what the creature would do. But what if they hadn't?
Her eyes scanned the clearing, probing the passage opening at the far side. Still nothing moved.
Then a soft scrape sounded right above her hiding place, and a small shower of dust descended in a tiny cloud.
Her breath caught in her throat. It was right above her. She froze, caught off guard completely.Right above me. Did it know she was there? She waited, trying to regain control of her muscles, listening to the silence, anticipating so many bad possibilities that she wanted to scream to relieve the tension.
Then she saw it, creeping along the rim of the rocks to her right, circling the clearing like a big spider, cloaked and hooded, as silent as the dark into which it had blended so easily. She realized at once the mistake they had made. They had assumed it would come at them on the ground because that's what they would have done in its place. But the thing wasn't like them. In Anatcherae, it had used the rooftops. Aboard theSkatelow, it had hung from the rigging. It liked the advantage of height. It had used it here, coming into the maze not through the twisting passageways, but over the tops of the boulders, leaping and crawling like the insect it resembled. Dosomething! It was still moving, slowly and just a few yards at a time, studying the fire and the bundled forms. It might have sensed something was wrong or it might simply have been making sure it wasn't missing anything. Whatever the case, if she was going to use the tar, she had to do it while the thing was still within striking distance. It would see her the moment she moved, of course. She would have to step out from her hiding place, and it would see her.
She realized suddenly that this wasn't going to work. She wouldn't be fast or accurate enough. It could drop down in those rocks much faster than she could move. It was looking for a trap, and it would spot her the moment she left the shadows.
What else can I do?
The question echoed in her mind in a hopeless wail of despair.
Then all at once the creature wheeled about, looking off to the south, toward the trees below the meadow, toward the path that Pen and Tagwen were already surely taking to reach theSkatelow. It froze in place, tensed and staring. A second later it was gone, bounding over the rocks and out of view, moving so swiftly that it seemed simply to disappear.
She stood staring after it for a second, realizing what it intended, immobilized by her sense of failure and helplessness to prevent it from succeeding. She was too far away to reach them, too far away to get back to where they were.
There was only one chance. Breaking from her hiding place in a rush, she raced across the clearing and through the passageway that led out to the meadow and the airship.
After Khyber Elessedil disappeared into the rocks, Pen sat with Tagwen and watched as theSkatelow moved steadily closer to their hiding place and then finally started to descend toward the meadow. Even with the bright moon and stars to aid him, he could not make out what was happening aboard the airship. As the vessel landed, he searched for Cinnaminson and her captor without success. A cold premonition began to seep through him that it was too late for her; that the thing that had taken her prisoner had decided she was not worth the trouble. His premonition was not eased when he saw the shadowy form of the creature slide over the side of the vessel to tie her off and then start toward the rocks in a skittering crawl.
«We have to go, Penderrin.» Tagwen nudged him.
He took a moment longer to scan the decks of theSkatelow for any sign of the girl, but all he could make out were the desiccated forms of Gar Hatch and his crew, still hung from the rigging. He swallowed and forced himself to look away.
She'll be all right,he told himself. Itwon't have done anything to her yet, not this quickly. But his words sounded hollow and false.
They descended from their hiding place in a crouch, staying back from the light and any view from the meadow. Pen glanced through the rocks only once to make certain the creature was still heading toward the fire, caught a glimpse of its dark, skittering form, and turned his concentration to the task at hand. It took them a few minutes to get through the back end of the maze and down to the forest edge, where they could begin to make their way out to the meadow.
They moved swiftly then, anxious to reach the airship and take control of her. The moonlight brightened their way, and they made good progress skirting the tree line, but their path was circuitous and it took them longer than Pen had thought it would. The minutes seemed to fly by and still they hadn't reached the opening between the trees and rocks that would get them out onto the flats.
«Do you hear anything?» he whispered to Tagwen at one point, but the Dwarf only shook his head.
Finally, the meadow came into view ahead of them, its grasses silver–tipped and spiky in the moonlight. They began to move away from the maze, but still Pen couldn't see theSkatelow. He glanced toward the rocks, catching a quick glimpse of the fire's orange glow rising from their midst, dull and smoky against the darkness. The creature must be all the way in by now, but he still hadn't heard anything. Any minute, Khyber would throw the tar into its face. They had to move faster. They had to get to Cinnaminson.
«Tagwen,' he whispered again, looking back to catch the other's eye, beckoning him to hurry.
He was just turning away again when he caught sight of a spidery shape leaping across the boulder tops and coming toward them with frantic purpose. At first he didn't comprehend what he was seeing. Then he let out a gasp of recognition.
«Tagwen!» he shouted. «Run!»
They bolted ahead, galvanized by the boy's frantic cry, the Dwarf not yet fully understanding what had happened but accepting that it was not good. They tore down along the tree line and into a vale that fronted the meadow. In the distance the Skatelow was visible, silhouetted against the skyline, dark and silent. Pen turned toward it, taking a quick glance sideways into the rocks as he did so. The creature was still coming for them, moving swiftly across the crest of the maze, leaping smoothly and easily from boulder to boulder, closing the distance between them with frightening ease.
It's too close, Pen thought in horror. It's coming too fast!
«Faster, Tagwen!» he cried.
The Dwarf had seen the creature as well and was running as fast as his stout legs could manage, but he was woefully slow and already falling behind. Pen glanced back, saw his companion dropping away, and slowed. He wouldn't leave Tagwen, not even to save himself. He reached for his knife, readying himself.
Where is Khyber?
Its cloak billowing behind it like a sail, the creature leapt from the edge of the rocks to the open ground, landing in a crouch that only barely slowed it as it came at the boy and the Dwarf on all fours. Crooked limbs akimbo, head lowered within its concealing hood, it rushed them in a scuttling sideways charge.
«Pen!» Khyber screamed in warning, appearing abruptly out of the maze, rushing into the meadow and turning toward them.
Then a huge, dark form catapulted out of the trees behind them, a blur of gray and black that rippled and surged like the darkest ocean wave. Hugging the ground in a long, lean shadowy flow, it intercepted the creature so quickly that it was on top of it before the other knew what was happening. With shrieks that caused the hair on the back of Pen's neck to stand straight up, the two collided and went tumbling head over hindquarters through the long grass. Roars and snarls and a terrible, high–pitched keening followed as both scrambled up, clots of earth and grass
