“What was that?” asked Donnan.
“An old friend,” she replied, catching her breath.
“With friends like that, I can see why you left,” he said.
They moved swiftly now, unhindered by Lanngorm, though it was hard to tell how far they still had to go. Eventually, Kaetha saw a stretch of black ahead which cut across the shimmering moonlight on the water.
“Here!” she said. “I can see the bridge. We’ve reached Ciadrath. Pull in to the left Donnan – that is, your right.”
“That may be the only time you’ve admitted that I’m right,” Donnan said. She could hear that he was smiling.
“And even then, you get it wrong, you eejit.”
The boat bumped against the bank beside a tangle of vegetation a short distance from the bridge. Kaetha hopped out, grabbing the rope and pulling it taut while the others got out and, together, they dragged it up onto the bank, covering it as best they could beneath the thick mass of leafy stems.
“There are still some fires burning in the city,” said Tam, looking across the river to the walled settlement on the gentle hill rising from the southern bank. “I hope no one comes this way tonight.”
“There’s no reason for anyone to be here at this hour,” said Kaetha with more confidence than she felt.
“Except for gaol-breaking,” said Donnan.
“Except for that,” she agreed.
Two rows of torches could be seen about half way up the steep hill rising from their side of the river, like strings of golden beads. They indicated the crescent shaped wall defences with their carved arrow slits which guarded the citadel from the south and the west. She knew from MacWallace’s tapestry that there was a third crescent on the northern side of the hill. She wondered how many archers were posted on duty tonight.
“Our best chance is to approach from as far east as we can, as close as possible to the sea,” she said.
They skirted patches of gorse and scrambled over mossy rocks along the riverside, heading towards Orach Bay. Kaetha stumbled as she tried to find a sure footing, but continued edging along between the now sheer slope and the widening mouth of the river. The smell of salt was strong in the air now and the wind carried the spray of the churning sea, spattering her face and dampening her cloak.
“We should be out of sight of the defences now,” she said when they reached a point which blurred the boundaries of hillside and cliff face, river and sea. Rock loomed above them, a formidable wall, above which glinted a tiny light from the highest part of the citadel, the top of the king’s tower.
“I think there’s a reason this part’s not defended,” said Donnan. “There’s no way up.”
“Not yet,” said Kaetha. She placed her hands against the cold, rough rock and already felt a trembling from the Earth stone on her forearm, as if it were waking up in response to her need of it.
“You can do this, Kaetha,” said Tam.
She felt Donnan’s hand on her shoulder.
“Do what, Kit?” he said.
Kaetha released a slow breath, remembering how she could manipulate the shape of the copper on the bands around her arm with no trouble and how she could carve into the stone of her mother’s grave. I will find him, Ma. I will find him. The Earth stone pressed coldly into her skin and her arms shook.
“Feel the power of the Earth stone, Kaetha,” said Tam. “Its strength is your own. Let it flow through you. The deep-rooted strength of an oak. The might of a bear. The force of an avalanche.”
She strained harder, silencing her doubts, her fear of failure, her whole body trembling now as she pushed her palms up against the rock, muscles tensed and teeth gritted as pain flared through her limbs.
She could feel the shape of the rock, even at the top of the cliff, somehow she knew its form, its notches, crevices, jagged edges, each tiny ledge where birds would perch, the cycles of light and dark that had passed over its surface, more numerous than the stars looking down upon it.
A tremor ran through the ground beneath her feet and she dug into the rock, her fingertips stinging where nails broke, exposing tender flesh. She felt deeper into the rock. She knew its darkness, darker than night, cold and hard. She felt the seasons it held, the years, the eons it had dwelt hidden from sight. Vibrations hummed through her fingers like the wings of bees in flight, piercing through the stone until, with a crack, her power cut through like lightning up the hillside, steps forming with a growling, crumbling, scraping of shifting earth and rock. Air and moonlight fell upon newly exposed rock.
“Enough,” she said, her limbs hanging limply at her sides as she panted for breath. Her legs wobbled, giving way beneath her.
“Even a Baukan would be tired after doing that,” said Tam as he took her arm.
“A Baukan who still had the use of his powers,” muttered Donnan, putting his arm around Kaetha. “I can’t believe you just did that, Kit.”
“And here’s something a Baukan can’t do,” she said, using her Fire magic to draw energy from the howling wind and swirling sea. In moments, she straightened up, revived. “There.
