Rienne patted her new horse’s nose as the stable hand cinched the saddle. The mare hadn’t come cheaply, but she had a House Vadalis pedigree-she was magebred for speed, and the previous owner had boasted that she ran as fast as a Valenar horse. Rienne doubted that claim, but felt sure the mare would be fast enough for her needs.
Rienne checked the saddlebags, loaded with the journeybread and water she’d need for her journey. She had also secured a sizable amount of cash from the bank operated by House Kundarak, knowing that the dwarven house might soon block her access to her accounts. She smiled wistfully. It was like the old days, setting off on another dangerous adventure, and a far cry from the settled life of a sheltered aristocrat that she’d adopted without Gaven.
“She’s ready, Lady,” the stable hand said with a small bow. “Safe travels.”
“Thank you,” she said, dropping a few copper coins into the girl’s hand. She led the mare out of the stable and mounted on the street. Reaching over her shoulder to make sure Maelstrom was securely strapped to her back, she gave the horse a gentle nudge with her heels and started riding out of town to the east.
She was happy to put Vathirond behind her. She couldn’t help but identify the city with her disastrous encounter with Gaven, a meeting she preferred to forget. As soon as she cleared the gates, she urged the mare to a gallop, exulting in her speed.
“I’m sorry I doubted you,” she whispered in the mare’s ear. “You put the steeds of Valenar to shame.”
“She must know something.” Ossa d’Kundarak glared across the table. “People don’t ride off this close to the Mournland for fun.”
Bordan shook his head, staring down into his wine glass. “It doesn’t make sense. Senya told the Sentinel Marshals that Aundair is where the action is, and the last I heard from Phaine he was there, close on Haldren’s tail. Anyway, if she knows where he is, why not just contact you or the Sentinel Marshals? Why chase after him herself?”
“She doesn’t want to see him go back to Dreadhold.”
Bordan looked up and met Ossa’s gaze. “She turned him in twenty-six years ago.”
Ossa shook her head. “She only turned him in because she thought he was possessed and hoped to get him cured.”
“And what happened the other day?”
“I think she hoped for a happy reunion, picking up where they left off before he went mad. Then he appeared in town with his new elf ladyfriend, and there went her hopes for getting married at last.”
“Oh, come now.” Bordan swirled the wine in his glass.
“I’m serious. Twenty-six years, she never gets married? I tell you, she’s been pining for him. So she ran out into the street, angry. You should’ve seen her-Natan said she was ready to cut him in half. But she didn’t want him to get caught. She knew he’d escape, somehow. Ten Seas, maybe she helped him escape.”
“Damn,” Bordan breathed. “You’re a suspicious one.”
“I’m still alive.”
“So what do you suggest?”
“I suggest we follow her, and I’ll bet you fifty crowns she leads us right to Gaven.”
Bordan drained his glass. “I’m not a betting man. And following her will be no easy task-she rode out of here on a magebred horse, remember, and not the draft kind.”
Ossa tugged at one of her long braids. “Then what’s your suggestion, d’Velderan? Following people is supposed to be your specialty.”
“Well, if I told you my suggestion was that we forget about Rienne and join Phaine in Aundair, you’d accuse me of not listening to you. And I have been listening. I’m just not sure I believe your reasoning.”
“Sovereigns! What’s it take, man?”
“Hold on,” Bordan said quickly. “I didn’t say I don’t believe you. I’m just not convinced yet. But if I were convinced, I think I’d suggest that we secure the use of a small airship from House Lyrandar. An airship can at least keep pace with a magebred horse, though she’s a little obvious. But if I’m going into the Mournland, I’d rather do it in the air than on the ground.”
“I happen to know,” Ossa said with a grin, “that House Lyrandar has a small airship in town at this moment that would be ideal for that purpose.”
“And if this turns out to be a chase after the dragon’s tail, it’ll be easy enough to turn the ship around and take her to Aundair.”
“Have I convinced you, then?”
Bordan smiled. “Close enough.”
CHAPTER 31
The moment Gaven pushed through the gray mist, leaving the Mournland behind him, his chest erupted in stinging pain. One of the ghoulish creatures had slashed his flesh when he first entered the Mournland, and Vaskar’s claw had torn him further. But the wounds had gone numb in the dead air of that desolate land, neither healing nor festering as long as he remained there. At first he was afraid that some contagion in the mist had contaminated the wounds, entered his blood, and started an assault on his body from the inside. He washed the wounds carefully in the first clear stream he could find, and the bright red blood he rinsed from them reassured him that they were still, somehow, fresh and relatively clean.
The wounds taken care of, though their sting remained, he climbed up a hill near the streambank to get the lay of the land. Putting the wall of dead-gray mist behind him, he surveyed the surrounding landscape. To his right and ahead, gentle hills, some covered with tilled fields, others painted with wildflowers and prairie shrubs, rolled on as far as he could see. To his left, the horizon was shaped by mountains-a small range fairly close-then a level gap, then more mountains. As best as he could figure, that put him somewhere southeast of Vathirond, looking at the northernmost extent of the Seawall Mountains. A careful study of the northwestern sky showed him what might be the smoky haze of the city, far in the distance.
The thought of returning to Vathirond gave him pause, and he sat down on the hill to eat some dry journeybread and consider it further. Since cutting the wood from the ash tree, his mind had been fixed on his destination, and he’d given little thought to how he would get there. Going through Vathirond presented numerous dangers: the Kundarak dwarves who had nearly arrested him on his last visit, Senya, whom he’d abandoned in the House of Healing there, and of course Rienne. He groaned. No, that was a city he would prefer not to see again.
He scanned the horizon, trying to think of another city he could use to launch his journey. But this time, something in the sky caught his attention.
“Vaskar!” he spat. But looking again, the dark shape in the clear blue sky did not resemble a dragon at all. Far too large to be a bird, though he supposed a dragonhawk was a distant possibility. But the air shimmered around it-
No, a ring of fire. An airship!
Gaven rested his hands on the ground behind him, damp with dew, and watched the airship soar closer, all his plans pushed aside. How high she flew! And there were people aboard! People who could stand at the rail and peer down, see the whole country spread below them like a grand banquet. His eyes drifted down to the hills and fields, trying to imagine what they would look like from so high in the air, but his gaze always returned to the majestic ship, the pinnacle of House Lyrandar’s achievements.
As she flew closer, he could make out more details of her shape and construction. She was about the same size as the one he’d seen moored in Vathirond-he wondered if she might be the same one. She came from the right direction, from the north along the wall of mist. Then he wondered what different sizes existed-how large was the largest airship? How majestic a vessel something like a flying galleon would be!
A sudden thought put an end to his speculation, and he stared blankly into the sky as he ran through its implications. An airship coming from Vathirond, coming closer to where he was, southeast of the city-where was
