The monster loomed over her, and she could smell the evil of it. But the wishsong stayed locked in her throat, imprisoned by the image she retained of its power tearing into her mother’s slim form, leaving it broken and lifeless.
«Brin!»
Then a frightening roar shattered the stillness of the night. A sleek shadow flew out of the mist, and five hundred pounds of enraged moor cat crashed into the Werebeast, flinging it back from Brin. Teeth and claws slashing, the cat tore into the monstrous apparition and both went tumbling headlong through the deep grasses.
«Brin! Where are you?»
Brin stumbled back, barely able to hear the voices over the sounds of the battle. Frantic, she called back to them. An instant later Kimber appeared, darting through the haze, her long hair streaming out behind her. Cogline followed, shouting wildly, his crooked body struggling to keep pace with the girl.
Whisper and the Werebeast surged back into view, lunging and feinting. The moor cat was the stronger of the two; although the mist thing sought to break past, it was blocked at every turn. But now other shadows were gathering in the darkness beyond, huge and shapeless, ringing them all close about. Too many shadows!
«Leah! Leah!»
And then Rone was there, his slim form bolting through the mass of shadows, sword lifted. Eerie, green incandescence swirled about the ebony blade. The Werebeast cornered by Whisper whirled instantly, sensing the greater danger of the sword’s magic. Thrusting away from the moor cat, the monster leaped at Rone. But the Prince of Leah was ready. His sword arced down, knifing through the mist into the Werebeast. Green fire flared sharply through the night, and the mist thing exploded in a shower of flames.
Then the light died away, and the night and the mist returned. The shadows that had gathered in the darkness beyond melted back into the void.
The highlander turned, the sword dropping forgotten at his side. He came quickly to Brin, his face stricken.
«I’m sorry, sorry», he whispered. «The magic…» He shook his head helplessly. «When I found the sword again, when I touched it… I couldn’t seem to think of anything else. I picked it up and I ran with it. I forgot everything — even you. It was the magic, Brin…
He faltered, and she nodded into his chest, hugging him close. «I know.»
«I won’t leave you like that again», he promised. «I won’t.»
«I know that, too», she replied softly.
But she said nothing of her decision to leave him.
Chapter Thirty–Seven
It was the third day after leaving the prisons at Dun Fee Aran before Jair and the little company from Culhaven reached the towering mountain range they called the Ravenshorn. Unable to use the open roadways than ran close to the banks of the Silver River as it wound south out of the mountains for fear of being seen, they were forced to traverse the deep forests above, picking their way at a slower pace through the tangled wilderness. The rains finally ceased on the second day out, slowed to a drizzle by midmorning, and turned to mist by noon. The air warmed as the skies cleared, and the clouds drifted east. When darkness slipped across the land, the moon and stars became visible through the trees. Their pace was slow, even after the rains had subsided, for the saturated earth could not absorb all of the surface water that had gathered, and the ground was muddied and slick with it. Stopping only for short periods of time to rest and eat, the company did its best to ignore the poor travel conditions and resolutely pressed ahead.
The sun appeared on the third day, brilliant and warm, filtering down in friendly streamers through the forest shadows, returning bits and pieces of color to the sodden land. The dark mass of the Ravenshorn came into view, barren rock rising up above the treeline. All morning they worked their way toward it, then on through the noonday, and by midafternoon they had reached the lower slopes and were starting up.
It was then that Slanter brought them to a halt.
«We have a problem,” he announced matter–of–factly. «If we try to cross through these mountains, it will take us days — weeks, maybe. Only other way in is by following the Silver River upstream to its source at Heaven’s Well. We can do that — if we’re careful — but sooner or later we will have to pass right under Graymark. Walkers will see us coming for sure.»
Foraker frowned. «There must be some way we can slip past them.»
«There isn’t,” Slanter grunted. «I ought to know.»
«Can we follow the river until we’re close to Graymark and then cross into the mountains?» Helt asked, his big frame lowering onto a boulder. «Can we come at it from another direction?»
The Gnome shook his head. «Not from where we are. Graymark sits on a cliff shelf that overlooks the whole of the land about it — the Ravenshorn, the Silver River, everything. Rock is barren and open — no cover at all.» He glanced at Stythys, who sat sullenly to one side. «That’s why the lizards like it there so well. Nothing could ever creep up on them.»
«Then we’ll have to go in at night,” Garet Jax said softly.
Again Slanter shook his head. «Break your neck if you try it. Cliffs are sheer drops all the way in and the paths are narrow and guarded. You’ll never make it.»
There was a long silence. «Well, what do you suggest?» Foraker asked finally.
Slanter shrugged. «I don’t suggest anything. I got you this far; the rest is up to you. Maybe the boy can hide you with his magic again.» He lifted his eyebrows at Jair. «How about, it — can you sing for half the night?»
Jair flushed. «There must be some way to get past the guards, Slanter!»
«Oh; it’s no problem for me.» The Gnome sniffed. «But the rest of you might have some trouble.»
«Helt has the night vision…» Foraker began thoughtfully.
But Garet Jax cut him short, beckoning to Stythys. «What suggestion would you make, Mwellret? This is your home. What would you do?»
Stythys let his lidded eyes narrow. «Findss your own way, little peopless. Sseekss another’ss foolissh aid. Leavess me be!»
Garet Jax studied him a moment, then walked over to him wordlessly, gray eyes so cold that Jair stepped back involuntarily. The Weapons Master’s finger lifted and came to rest on the Mwellret’s cloaked form.
«You seem to be telling me that you are no longer of any use to us,” he said softly.
The Mwellret seemed to shrink back within the robes then, slitted eyes glittering with hate. But he held no power over Garet Jax. The Weapons Master stood where he was, waiting.
Then a low hiss escaped the lizard’s mouth and its forked tongue licked out slowly. «Helpss you if you ssetss me free,” he whispered. «Takess you where no one sseess you.»
There was a long silence as the members of the little company glanced at one another suspiciously. «Don’t trust him,” Slanter said.
«Sstupid little Gnome cannot help you now,” Stythys sneered. «Needss my help, little friendss. Knowss wayss that no other can passs.»
«What ways do you know?» Garet Jax asked, his voice still soft.
But the Mwellret shook his head stubbornly. «Promisse firsst to sset me free, little peopless. Promisse.»
The Weapons Master’s lean face showed nothing of what he was thinking. «If you can get us into Graymark, you go free.»
Slanter’s face wrinkled with disapproval, and he spit into the earth. Standing with the others of the company, Jair waited for Stythys to say something more. But the Mwellret seemed to be thinking.
«You have our promise,” Foraker interjected, a hint of impatience in his voice. «Now tell us what way we must go.»
Stythys grinned, an evil, unpleasant smile that appeared to be almost a grimace. «Takess little peopless through Cavess of Night!»
