guards searching for them, and word could reach the guards at the West Gate before they got there. The gate would be closed, and a hundred loaded crossbows would be waiting for them.
'Painbringer's touch!' Ythnel cursed out loud. Loviatar had freed her, even after she had let doubt shake her faith. She was not going to squander this second chance. She would get out. Ythnel dug her heels into the horse's flanks, and the animal leaped forward, trampling pedestrians as it surged ahead. Her fellow rider yelped but seemed at a loss as to how to stop the animal. Ythnel did not care. All that mattered was that she reach the gate.
They overtook the other riders and soon reached Brother Hawk just as he was turning left off the street onto another that led to the West Gate. Wagons, riders on horseback, and travelers on foot stood in a line waiting their turn to pass through the gate. There was no sign of alarm as the rest of the group caught up.
'There was no need for' one of the riders began, waggling a finger at Ythnel, but looks from the others silenced him.
'All right, everyone. We're not out of this yet, but it appears that word hasn't reached this far yet,' Brother Hawk said. 'So let's just take deep breaths and' There was a commotion at the front of the line, and guards began pouring out of the towers onto the wall. The thirty-foot-high, iron-reinforced wood doors of the West Gate groaned as they began to swing inward, cutting off the countryside beyond the city walls.
'Azuth's beard!' Brother Hawk said, his horse prancing in a circle. With a cry from its rider, the horse bolted down the line in a race to beat the closing gate. The remaining mages hesitated for only a breath. The doors were moving together too fast; there was no way they could make it. Something whooshed overhead, accompanied by a wave of heat, and Ythnel looked up to see a swirling mass of flames growing larger as it hurtled toward the gate. It rapidly overtook Brother Hawk and slammed into the gate doors with a thunderous boom, sending splinters of wood in all directions. Ythnel looked back to see one of her rescuers lower his hands. Then the other riders shot past her on their way out of the city.
As they approached the shattered gate, crossbow bolts began to rain down on the street from the battlements. People scattered, shrieking as missiles struck targets indiscriminately. The horses dodged and weaved as they carried their riders through the charred remains of the West Gate. Ythnel crouched low to avoid the many bolts flying through the air from all directions. Something brushed her shoulder, and she looked up to see a shaft stuck in her companion's head. The horse jumped over a large piece of debris from the gate, and he slid from the horse, almost pulling Ythnel along with him before she realized what was happening. She wrenched her arms free from around his waist at the last moment and grabbed onto the horse's mane as it galloped into open country.
She didn't slow down. She didn't stop. She didn't care. She was free.
Her horse let out a loud neigh and tumbled to the ground; Ythnel rolled free before it could land on her. She got to her feet and saw that horse was standing once again. Concerned about the cause of the spill, Ythnel made a cursory examination of the animal. She quickly found the crossbow bolt embedded in the horse's haunch. It would not be able to run any farther.
The other mages had already broken through the gate and where increasing the distance between themselves and the city with each breath. There was no one to come back and help Ythnel. She looked back to the gate, caught by indecision, and saw a lone rider galloping toward her. Instinctively, she knew it was the first of the city guards who pursued them.
Ythnel grabbed the shaft of the bolt in both hands and pulled. The horse let out a terrible shriek as the missile tore free, and it almost kicked Ythnel. Tossing the bolt aside, Ythnel laid her hands over the wound and said a quick prayer to Loviatar. When she removed her hands, there wasn't even a scar.
The mounted guard was almost upon her as she swung up onto her horse's back and spurred it into a gallop. She looked over her shoulder as she sped away and saw that he was still in pursuit and gaining. Ythnel urged her horse on, but it was at its limit already. Then the guard was right beside her. Before she could react, he punched her in the jaw with his mailed fist. Ythnel's vision flared white, and she almost fell from her horse, but somehow she managed to hold on. She tried to move away, but the guard followed her.
That's when she noticed the dagger hanging from his side.
She swung her horse into the guard's mount, surprising him. As he tried to maintain control, she grabbed his dagger and plunged it into his face. With a cry, he fell from his horse, and it veered away. Now all Ythnel had to do was catch up.
CHAPTER SEVEN
You're not even a wizard?'
They had finally come to a stop once the walls of Luthcheq were out of sight. Of the six people who had rescued her, only four remained. They all sat staring at her. She could see the disbelief and bitter disappointment that laced Brother Hawk's question mirrored in their eyes.
'Did you free the wrong one?' It was an accusation from a man with a thick mustache.
'No. You all heard Kaestra call her a witch.' He nodded at Ythnel. 'What I can't understand is why they would mistake you for one. Exposing you to witchweed smoke should have revealed the truth.'
'They knew I was not a wizard.' Ythnel met each and every one of their gazes unflinchingly.
'I was bait in a trap set for the Mage Society, which I take it you are all members of. Or should I say, were?' She gained some satisfaction when a couple of them cringed.
'That explains some things,' Brother Hawk said, stroking his chin. 'But if the Karanoks knew about our plans, that means we were betrayed from the inside.'
'I did overhear Jaerios send for someone named Therescales to discuss the plan to set up the society,' Ythnel volunteered.
'Fires of the Nine Hells!' The man with the thick mustache spat. 'Brother Asp really was a snake. I'm starting to wonder if those rumors about his involvement in the capture of Haraxius weren't true.'
'Now is not the time for such speculation, especially when there is nothing we can do to exact vengeance.' Something smoldered in Brother Hawk's eyes. Ythnel guessed it might be the fires of revenge. 'For now, we need to decide where to go. I suggest Mordulkin. As many of you may have guessed, our potential ally is from that city.'
'Need I remind you that Mordulkin lies on the other side of the bay?' Another of the mages, his face lean and head shaved bald, spoke up. 'That would require trekking around Luthcheq. I'm sure the Karanoks will have patrols swarming the countryside. Simply expelling us from the city will not be enough for them.'
'Why not Cimbar?' the mustached mage suggested. 'They are across the Adder River and are no friends of Luthcheq.'
'That also means crossing Adder Swamp, Brother Fox,' Brother Hawk said grimly. 'I do not think we are prepared for that. I still say Mordulkin is our best hope. If we are careful, we can avoid patrols.'
'Decide quickly,' the fourth mage hissed. 'I see riders.' Everyone turned toward the direction he was pointing to see a plume of dust rising from back toward the city.
'Fires of the Nine Hells, indeed. Into the swamp! We'll ride for Cimbar.' Brother Hawk spurred his horse into motion once more, galloping toward the borders of the Adder Swamp.
The grouped raced westward, but their pace eventually slowed to a canter to avoid exhausting the horses. There was a palpable shift in the mood of the group that accompanied the change from a frantic gallop to a more steady, even flight. Panic drained away and was replaced by silent reflection. Ythnel noticed it within herself. Where before her mind had been clear, focused only on escape, thoughts now began to filter in. An image of Prisus and Iuna, bound and being led into the audience chamber at the palace, floated to the front of her mind. It faded and was replaced by Prisus chained to a stake, wailing in despair as Ythnel walked away. She wondered where Iuna was and how Kaestra was treating her.
It was strange that she should be so concerned with the fate of the girl who had caused the whole mess. Iuna had been Ythnel's first responsibility upon leaving the temple, and she had failed miserably. But it was something more than guilt. There was a connection between them that Ythnel could not explain. She had sensed it that first night in the Saelis house, as she prayed to Loviatar. The girl needed Ythnel, needed the guidance she could provide.
'You look like you lost your best friend. Or lover, perhaps?'
