legendary. And Liss had told them the tale of her sire saving Alamar by bringing down a full-charging boar in midstride; between one step and the next the massive swine had dropped, just an instant after being pricked.
Aravan said to Long Tom, “Lower all dinghies and stand by, for we’ll need to plumb the river to see if we can sail the Eroean up it to a suitable place to dock. In the meanwhile, I’ll fly as Valke upstream to see if what we think might be the old road from the river to the city yet exists, though given the denseness of the foliage I see, I ween it’s overgrown and lost.”
“Take care, my love,” said Aylis, embracing Aravan. He kissed her, and then disengaged, and in a flash of silvery light, a falcon took to wing.
“Oh, my!” breathed Pipper.
Binkton’s jaw dropped agape.
Neither buccan had seen Aravan transform into Valke ere now.
“How does he do that?” said Pipper, looking to Aylis for an answer.
She shook her head. “I know not, for it is ‹wild-magic›.”
Binkton cocked an eyebrow.
“Like my darkness,” said Lissa, “or your ability to see through it.”
Aylis nodded. “My gift, as with all of Magekind, is to use the aethyr to cast spells, but Aravan’s transformation does not use aethyr at all, or if it does, I cannot detect it. Instead, he uses the crystal he bears to shift from Elf to falcon and back again.”
“Wull, I wish I could do that,” said Pipper, now watching the bird in flight.
Aylis shook her head. “Mayhap you would not, Pip.”
“Why not?”
“Aravan tells me that when he is a falcon, he truly is nought but a wild thing. He is not a bird that thinks like an Elf, but is a raptor true. ’Tis only by concentrating beforehand upon what he would have the bird do that he gets ought done. The danger is, he might never shift back to an Elf, but be a falcon forever. Just as is the danger to the falcon that Aravan will never become the bird again.”
“You mean he might be trapped in the form of a falcon forever?” asked Binkton.
Glumly, Aylis nodded. “Indeed.”
“Oh, Adon,” said Pipper, not taking his gaze from the dark bird. “That would be terrible. I think you’re right, Lady Aylis: mayhap I would not like to be able to be a bird.”
With keen raptor eyes searching, Valke flew up the flow, and soon was lost to the vision of those remaining behind. O’er the river he soared, and along the verge of the jungle, looking this way and that. No immediate prey did he sight, yet he was not out for game. Instead, his unfalconlike thought was to survey and remember and then to return to the floating thing with the tall trees jutting up from it.
And as the bird flew, Long Tom had the dinghies lowered, and he chose those who would row and plumb.
No sooner was that done than the werebird returned and transformed into Aravan. “Valke espied the tower-in fact several towers-yon”-he gestured a point or two forward and to the right-“and two leagues upstream is a stone quay, where we can dock the Eroean , should the river be navigable. A path runs through the hills toward what must be the city, though it is well overgrown. Tom, with the pier upstream, I suspect the river will be navigable. Send out the crew to confirm or refute our assumptions.”
“Better safe nor sorry, Oi allus say, Oi do, Oi say,” replied Tom, and he gave the signal for the men in the dinghies to begin the mission.
Many yards apart, four abreast they rowed, Dinny and Ebert in the bows of two of them, Noddy and Wooly in the bows of the remaining pair, the quartet swinging bobs to plunk into the water just ahead and calling out depths for crewmen in the sterns to record. The Eroean would need but thirty-five feet fully laden, and should they sail upstream, they would do so on the inflowing tide.
In the Captain’s Lounge below, Aylis, Aravan, Pipper, and Binkton gathered ’round the side table, Lissa sitting atop. Once again Aylis dealt out the Rwn Cross upon the black silk cloth. After studying the spread for long moments, she said, “The layout is but slightly different, with many swords indicating conflict. Again it seems there is someone or something opposing, yet I know no more than before. We must go in caution, and choose wisely, should violence come our way. I can say nought else.”
Once again she held the deck out to Aravan, and once again he drew the Demon.
45
DARK DESIGNS
EARLY SUMMER TO MID AUTUMN, 6E9
High in the night sky in his incorporeal form, Nunde gloated as the Elvenship set sail from Port Arbalin.
Perhaps Aravan has taken the bait. We shall see. We shall see. Yet whether or not he has done so, surely he will someday. And no matter how long it takes, Malik will be waiting. After all, he has my orders.
Nunde continued to haunt the Eroean from afar, knowing what course the ship must take if it were indeed bound for the City of Jade, as he, Nunde, had planned.
As they sailed southerly, Nunde began to worry, for if catastrophe struck and the ship were to sink to the bottom in the raging South Polar Ocean, Aravan would be dead and beyond Nunde’s revenge.
And when the ship entered those perilous waters, Nunde made it a point to watch as the Eroean pitched and yawed and plunged through crest after crest, the Necromancer’s aethyrial heart hammering in dread of the upset of all his schemes, for tons upon tons of icy brine engulfed the ship, and it disappeared as waves roiled over it, only to reappear time after time.
But then the Polar Seas calmed, and Nunde shouted in glee as the Eroean turned northerly, and sailed on what appeared to be a course for Bharaq. Surely vile Aravan is heading just where I planned; I knew he could not deny the siren call of what he thinks will be a grand adventure. But little does he suspect what lies in wait. My plan is coming full circle.
Nunde raced ahead to see if Malik and the Chun were in position.
They were.
Not that they had any choice. After all, Nunde had decreed.
The voyage went onward, and at last Nunde, daring to spy during the day, though remaining well away, watched as the ship dropped anchor at the mouth of the Dukong.
But then, out from a brief flash of light- What’s this? They have a trained bird? A pigeon, a dove – no, a raptor of a sort, mayhap a small hawk. Never mind, for it cannot – Oh, wait, perhaps that slut of a Seeress is looking through the bird’s eyes. Regardless, the jungle is thick, and Malik and the others well hidden. Whatever the hawk and trollop are up to, it will do them no good.
Two nights later, Nunde watched as the Eroean , under sail, rode the night tide upriver. A candlemark later, the Elvenship tied up to the stone pier.
I have triumphed! Yes! And Aravan is mine!
46
ELVENSHIP
MID AUTUMN, 6E9
