listening carefully to what you have to say, Pyson,' she said. «Your advice is always welcome. I depend on you to offer it freely.» She smiled. «Are we done?»
She waited until they had closed the door behind them before sitting down to write the note. Traunt Rowan would depart Paranor for the Ravenshorn at first light, both he and Pyson Wence having agreed to accept her decision on the fate of the Ohmsfords. In truth, they didn't care one way or the other about the Ohmsford family, so long as they could feel they had put some distance between themselves and any bloodletting. They were strong enough when it came to manipulation and deceit, but not so good when it came to killing. That was her province— hers and Aphasia Wye's.
She sometimes thought how much easier her life would have been if she had never come to Paranor. Perhaps that would have been the wiser move. She would not be Ard Rhys of the order, but neither would she be forced to bear the burden of its members' confusion and indecision. She could have practiced her magic alone, or even with Iridia as her partner, and accomplished much. But she had been desirous of more than that, greedy for the unmatchable power that came from leading those who could most affect the destiny of the Four Lands. Sen Dunsidan might think that the Federation was the future of the world, but she knew differently.
Nevertheless, there were times when she wished she could simply eliminate all the Druids and do everything herself. Things would be accomplished more quickly and efficiently. Events would progress with less conflict and argument. She was tired of shouldering the responsibility while being questioned at every turn by those she depended on to support her. They were a burden she would gladly shed when the time was right for it.
She wrote the note swiftly, having already decided on its contents while listening to the prattling of Pyson Wence. The time for hesitation was through. If they weren't strong enough to do what was needed, she would be strong enough for them.
When the note was finished, she read it back to herself.
WHEN YOU FIND THE BOY,
DON'T BOTHER WITH BRINGING HIM BACK.
KILL HIM AT ONCE.
She rolled up the paper and placed it into the tube she had retrieved from the arrow swift earlier in the day. Walking over to the window, she reached into the bird's cage and refastened the tube to its leg. The sharp–beaked face turned toward her as she did so, the bright eyes fixing on her.Yes, little warrior, she thought,you are afar better friend to me than those who just left. Too bad you can't replace them.
When the tube was securely fastened, she withdrew the swift from its cage and tossed it into the air. It was gone from sight in moments, winging its way north into the twilight. It would fly all night and all the next day, a hardy dependable courier. Wherever Aphasia Wye was, the arrow swift would find him.
She took a moment to think about what she had done. She had imposed a death sentence on the boy. That had not been her original intent, but her thinking about the Ohmsfords had changed since she had begun her search for them. She needed to simplify things, and the simplest way of dealing with the Ohmsfords was to kill them all and be done with it. She might tell Traunt Rowan and Pyson Wence otherwise, might suggest there was another way, but she knew differently. She wanted all doors that might lead to Grianne Ohms–ford permanently locked and sealed.
By this time next week, that job would be done.
Three
Tagwen crossed his arms, tucked his bearded chin into his chest, and gave a frustrated growl.
«If this isn't the most ill–considered idea 1 have ever come across, I can't think what is!» He was losing what little remained of his patience. «Why do we think there's even the possibility of making it work? How long have we been at it now? Three hours, Penderrin! And we still haven't a clue about what to do.»
The boy listened to him wearily, admitted to himself that Tag–wen was right, and promptly continued talking it through.
«Khyber is right about not relying on the Elfstones. We can't do that unless we're certain that this creature has the use of magic, as well, magic that the Elfstones can react to. I haven't seen anything that suggests it does. It might not be human, but that doesn't mean it relies on magic. If it does, and we find that out, then Khyber can use the Elfstones to disable it. But otherwise, we need to find a different way to gain an advantage.»
«Well, we have seen how fast it can move,' the Elven girl said. «It's much quicker and more agile than we are, so we can't expect to gain an advantage there.»
«What if we could find a way to slow it down?»
The Dwarf grunted disdainfully. «Now, there is a brilliant idea! Maybe we could hobble it with ropes or chains. Maybe we could drop it into quicksand or mud. Maybe we could lure it into a bottomless pit or off a cliff. There must be dozens of each in these mountains. All we need do is catch it napping and take it prisoner!»
«Stop, Tagwen,' Khyber said quietly. «This isn't helping.»
They stared at each other in uneasy silence, brows furrowed in a mix of concentration and frustration, a little more of the latter revealed on Tagwen's bluff face than on the those of the other two. The night before, theSkatelow had appeared in the sky above the foothills west of the Charnals. Twelve hours had passed since the horrifying discovery that the creature from Anatcherae had commandeered the airship, killed Gar Hatch and his Rovers, and taken Cinnaminson prisoner. No one had slept since, though they had pretended at it. Now that daylight had returned, they were sitting in the sunshine on a mountainside trying to decide what to do next. Mostly, they were arguing about how best to help Cinnaminson. Pen might have persuaded his companions that they should not abandon her, but that didn't mean he'd persuaded them there was a way to save her.
«It would be less mobile if we could lead it into a confined space,'
Khyber suggested.
«Or force it to climb a tree or a cliff face,' Pen added, «where it couldn't use its speed or agility.»
«A ledge or defile, narrow and slippery.»
«Why don't we find a way to force it to swim out to us!» Tagwen snapped irritably. «It probably doesn't swim very well. Then we could drown it when it got close. Bash it over the head with an oar or something. Where's the nearest big lake?» He blew out his breath in a huff. «Haven't we covered this ground already? What are the chances of making this happen? What in the world is going to persuade this creature to go anywhere we want it to go!»
«We have to find a way to lure it off the ship,' Pen declared, looking from the Dwarf to the Elf and back again. «Off the ship and away from Cinnaminson. We have to separate them if we are to free her.»
«Oh, that shouldn't be so hard,' Tagwen mumbled. «All we need is the right bait.»
His face changed instantly as he realized the territory he had mistakenly entered. «I didn't mean that! I didn't! Don't even think about it, Penderrin. Whatever else happens, you have to keep safe. If anything happens to you, the Ard Rhys has no chance of being saved. I know how you feel about this girl, but you should feel more strongly still about what you have been sent to do. You can't risk yourself!»
«Tagwen, calm down,' the boy told him. «Who said anything about risking myself? I'm just looking for a way to tip the balance in our favor long enough to free Cinnaminson and make an escape. In order to do the former, we need to separate her from her captor. In order to do the latter, we need to get control of the ship.»
«Get him off the ship and away from Cinnaminson, then get us on the ship and safely away,' Khyber summarized. She stared at him. «That doesn't seem like something that is likely to happen in the ordinary course of events.»
«Well then, we will change the course of events,' Pen declared. «This thing might be faster and stronger than we are, but it isn't necessarily smarter. We can outthink it. We can find a way to trick it into making a mistake.»
Tagwen got to his feet, making a rude noise that left no doubt about his opinion of this proclamation. «I've had enough of this. I need to take a walk, young Penderrin, young Khyber. I need to leave this conversation behind and clear my head. I was secretary and personal assistant to the Ard Rhys when we began this odyssey and I haven't left that life far enough behind to feel comfortable with this one. I applaud your efforts in trying to save Cinnaminson, but I cannot think how they will lead to anything. If, while I am gone, you come up with the solution
