The Runes of the Earth

senses of the Ranyhyn were preternaturally acute. They would be able to detect any threat before it fell upon the Waynhim.

With as much patience as she could muster, Linden waited for the creatures to ready their meal.

Fortunately they did so without further delay. Using wooden ladles, they filled stone bowls with a steaming broth that looked like sludge and smelled like stagnant pond water. These they offered to their guests before partaking themselves.

In spite of its superficial reek, the steam curling from the bowls spoke to Linden’s senses of much-needed sustenance. The aura of the broth was redolent with nourishment; and she was surprised to find that she was hungry. Her first sip threatened to gag her, but the second went down more easily, and the third she swallowed almost eagerly.

Meeting her glance, Liand gave her a rueful smile. Politely he consumed some of his broth. Then he set down his bowl with an air of relief and turned to assist Mahrtiir with Anele.

Together Liand and the Manethrall roused the old man and encouraged him to sup.

While she ate, Linden studied the stone of the cave, trying to read its old, slow, imponderable sentience, as Anele sometimes did. With the Staff in her lap, she thought for a moment that she could detect hints of knowledge in the clenched rock. But her human mind slid past them too rapidly to be sure of their presence.

Because her attention was elsewhere, she did not notice Pahni’s approach until the Cord appeared at the mouth of the outward tunnel.

The young woman-Linden still thought of her as a girl-ventured hesitantly into the cave. She may have feared to interrupt some important conclave or invocation. Her face was set, however, and she did not allow timidity or self-consciousness to hold her back. Avoiding the Waynhim, she advanced toward Linden and Mahrtiir.

All of the creatures stopped what they were doing and turned to consider her with their moist nostrils.

Liand flashed a broad smile at the Cord. But the pleasure fell from him when he recognised the quality of her determination.

Instinctively Linden rose to her feet. She held the Staff upright beside her, its heel planted on the floor, as if she meant to call forth its power.

Mahrtiir stood also; and Stave joined them. Liand mopped unceremoniously at a spill of broth in Anele’s beard, then surged erect as well.

Hurrying now, the young woman offered them a quick Ramen bow.

The Manethrall replied with a brusque nod. “Speak, Cord. We have awaited some word of what transpires in the night.”

In the night-? Linden was surprised to realise that so much time had passed.

Darkness would limit even the unquantified perceptions of the Ranyhyn.

“Manethrall.” Pahni bowed again reflexively. Her voice held a tremor of anxiety as she said, “Shortly before sunset, Esmer came among us. He attempted to draw the Ranyhyn away.” She frowned to mask a distinctly Ramen disdain. “I had not thought him so foolish. He should have known that they would not abandon their riders.”

“He is troubled,” Mahrtiir replied. His tone made it clear that he did not consider being troubled an adequate excuse.

Pahni nodded. “Yet we were concerned, Bhapa and I, for he spoke slightingly to us, foretelling death. Then he departed, though we could not name where or how he had gone.

“Because of his words, we widened our guard over the Ranyhyn. Still we found no sign of peril.

“Shortly after moonrise, however, came Naharahn-the proud mare who has shown me such honour-”

Abruptly the Cord fell silent, flustered by her awe and gratitude.

Mahrtiir did not rush her.

When Pahni had taken a deep breath to steady herself, she was able to continue. “Naharahn made it known to me that something discomfited her. What it was I could not determine by scent or sight or sound. But Whrany, who bears Bhapa, felt likewise disturbed. And their unrest spread swiftly among the other Ranyhyn.”

To herself, Linden groaned. She was not ready to attempt another caesure. But she did not interrupt the Cord.

“Sure of them,” Pahni finished, “Bhapa has descended toward the plains, seeking the cause of their concern. Before he departed, however, we agreed that you must be forewarned.”

As she said this, Pahni looked through her lashes at the Manethrall as if she half expected him to reprimand her for leaving her assigned duties.

He did not. Instead he said, “You have done rightly. Return now to the Ranyhyn.” In spite of his apparent calm, his voice held a rising eagerness. “We will follow when we have offered our respect to the Waynhim.”

With another nod, he dismissed the Cord.

Bowing once more, Pahni turned and hastened, fleet as a colt, out of the cave.

Liand watched her go as if he wanted to run after her; but he made no move to leave Linden’s side.

“It comes,” Stave said impassively. Outside the cave, Esmer’s dark hints were approaching fruition.

Mahrtiir nodded, eager as a blade. He looked like a man who could hear the call of battle.

Linden leaned heavily on the Staff. She was weary yet, deeply in need of rest; entirely unprepared. Yet this was the moment for which she had been waiting. Now the nature of Esmer’s betrayal would declare itself, and she would know what she had to do to save the Waynhim and her companions.

The Staff was a powerful tool, fraught with dangerous possibilities; but it could not help her return to her proper time. Somehow she would have to find her way back to wild magic.

“Linden?” asked Liand. “Does your knowledge of the Land suggest a name for this disturbance?” He glanced at Stave. “Is this another dark wonder which the Masters have concealed from us?”

“I don’t know.” Abruptly she pulled herself upright. She had needs more profound than rest. At this moment, they began with the Waynhim, although they extended far beyond her ability to measure them. “Stave will tell us as much as he can. When the time comes.”

Esmer had asked, How will you bear the burden of such powers? Either alone will transcend your strength. Together they will wreak only madness-

Apparently he had always intended to “help” her face his betrayal by removing the barrier that his presence imposed on her access to Covenant’s ring. “Mahrtiir is right,” she added. “It’s time to go.”

At once, she turned toward the waiting creatures.

The Waynhim knew what threatened them: she was certain of that. Like the ur-viles, they understood Esmer’s intentions better than she did. Yet they had made no obvious move to prepare a defence. And she suspected that they would not, unless she led the way. Surrendering the Staff, they had to some extent made her responsible for the outcome of their lives.

“I wish you could tell me what’s coming,” she said gravely. “I can’t even imagine how much danger I’ve put you in.” She had brought Cail’s son to them. “But it doesn’t change my debt to you. I don’t know what would have happened to the Staff without you-or what would happen to the Land-but I think we would all be doomed.

“One thing I’m sure of. You did the right thing. You’ve been faithful to your Weird.”

With all the dignity she could muster, she bowed, holding the Staff before her in acknowledgment. Then, so that she would not falter, she turned to Stave and said, “We’ve waited long enough. Let’s find out how bad this is.”

The Haruchai also bowed to the Waynhim, as did Mahrtiir and Liand. Then the Stonedownor urged Anele to his feet; Mahrtiir hastened into the lead; and Stave accompanied Linden across the cave toward the egress.

As she and her companions passed, the creatures formed a wedge and followed more slowly, chittering encouragement or farewells to each other.

The angle of the tunnel beyond the cave soon blocked out the light. With the last reflected glow of the urns behind her, Linden could see nothing ahead. At her back, the bare feet of the Waynhim made a faint susurrus on the stone. The sound seemed to pursue her, sibilant and apprehensive, echoing softly about her ears like supplication.

Too many of them will perish-

Trepidation confused her steps; but Stave guided her with a light touch on her arm, ensuring that she did