Bloodsongs (40 page)

Her father had been such a warlord.

“Do you smell something?” Telric asked, interrupting her thoughts. He touched his nose and sniffed again. “Salt air!”

She nodded. “The Calendi Sea! We must be near the coast.”

All through the forest the crickets began to warm up for another night of chorusing. Telric called it noise, yet to Frost it was as much a part of life's pulse as her own heartbeat. A light winked very close to her face. Reflexively, she swiped at it. Then she opened her fist.

The evening's first firefly lay on her palm. She gave a shudder and tossed it away.
Fool
, she chided herself for her unthinking reaction,
not every firefly in the world is a product of Kel's enchantment
.

Something stung her across the face, and she gasped, jerking back on Ashur's reins. With a finger she hesitantly explored her tender cheek where a thin branch had carved a shallow scratch just below her eye. She hadn't even seen it in the gloom. She wiped at the cut with a saliva-moistened thumb and regarded Telric. He said nothing, just stared from side to side, watching the trees and the half-seen things that moved among them.

The forest
, she realized.
It's getting to him. It's getting to me, too.

They pushed on with little more than the fire of the unicorn's eyes to guide them. More and more, Frost reached inside herself, listening for the magical note that was Kel. It was a jangling in her soul, and it set her teeth on edge. It told her he was close. But where was he?

For that matter, she wondered, where were they? She realized how little she had ever seen of Esgaria and how little she knew about the country. Hers was a knowledge based on tales and stories and legends. She had never truly traveled in her own homeland.

“But we've traveled in a lot of other lands, haven't we?” she whispered into Ashur's ear, leaning forward. As if in answer, the unicorn tossed his head. She straightened hastily to avoid a faceful of mane and smacked him playfully. “I don't need a broken nose to match my cut, thank you.” Relenting then, she stroked his muscular neck, tangled a hand in his mane, leaned down again, and pressed her cheek to his smooth, glistening hide. “I've never actually said it, you funny beast, but I love you.”

The Rholarothan spoke up behind her. “Break down and say it to me.”

She didn't hesitate. “All right. I love you, too.”

He scoffed. “Talk is cheap. Prove it.”

She reached out in the darkness, caught the nearest convenient branch, and bent it forward. “Here comes your proof,” she warned him.

It made a most satisfying
thwack!
as it struck him on the chest.

A bit of levity brightens even the blackest night
, she told herself. But still she watched the forest, sensing things, listening.

The crickets were in full voice.

She rode with her hands before her. It was the only way to avoid another scratch. Something snagged her hair, and she yelped. It was easy to imagine one of Kel's demons, and her heart skipped a beat. Still, she knew it was no such thing. Ashur's eyes or her own witchcraft would have warned her. Nothing had grabbed her, nothing but the forest.

A wind swept abruptly through the trees, shaking the leaves.
 
It was heavy with the salt tang of the Calendi. She drew a deep breath, marveling. The air was full of odors: the sea, the spongy earth, the dry and dusty foliage, rich bark.

Frost brushed back her hair, briefly toying with the circlet that Telric had returned to her. She treasured it even more for his special act of caring.

A new sound rose distantly to join the night's symphony. Barely perceived, it seemed to swell and fade, a wistful whisper, a rush, a lonesome and mournful sound.

“The sea,” Frost said at last. “That's the surf you hear. We'll emerge on the cliffs soon.”

Suddenly, the world opened before them. Frost bit her lip and slid from Ashur's back. Her legs were weak from long riding, and she nearly lost her balance, but she steadied herself and stared wide-eyed with wonder.

The Calendi Sea sparkled in the light of the countless stars. The last sliver of a dying moon hung over it. The black water churned; white-capped waves danced and rolled far out on its glimmering surface. Nocturnal sea birds wheeled in the sky, fleet shadows that appeared in the corners of her eyes but disappeared from a direct gaze.

She stared far, seeking the horizon. It was impossible to say where the diamond-capped water and the star-flecked heavens met. They merged instead and appeared to extend forever into oneness.

She walked to the edge of the cliff. The surf smashed and battered the jagged rocks below, throwing spray and foam high into the air. It failed to reach her lofty vantage, but she imagined its cool touch on her face.

Telric came to her side and slipped an arm about her waist. “It can't be the same world,” he whispered as he looked out to the sea and back into the forest. “We stand on the threshold of two magical lands.”

“And they both make me tremble,” she confided.

For the moment, Kel was forgotten. Frost went to Ashur, put an arm about his neck, and hugged him close without taking her eyes from the sea. She stood there, mesmerized, swallowed up by her memories.

She had stood on cliffs such as these and gazed out at this same sea, this same sky. At her command the storm had come, full of thunder and lightning. The water had frothed, maddened by her witchly power. It had lashed the rocks with unnatural fury while the wind screamed.

She had clapped her hands and laughed as only a child could have, delighted with her magic. What a game it had been! So young, but at a whim she had tamed the sea when it raged and driven the calm sea wild.

That had been so long ago, almost another lifetime.
How we are changed and made different by the years
, she thought sadly.

“It never seems to change,” Telric said to her.

It took her a moment to realize he had not read her mind. Her comrade had referred to the sea itself. He stayed on the cliff's edge, as much a prisoner to the Calendi's melancholy spell as she.

“Of course it changes,” she countered. “It eats away at the rocks and the cliffs, altering its coastline, carving tiny inlets and bays. Sometimes it's tranquil; sometimes its fury is staggering. In the day the waters are blue as sapphire; at night, black as a murderer's heart—black as they are now.” She pressed her face to Ashur's neck again as the sea wind swept over her. “Everything changes,” she affirmed. “Everything.”

They both mounted. A narrow trail wound along the cliff and among the trees that grew to the very edge. They rode without speaking, listening to the sharp sound of their hooves on the stony path, to the contrasting rush of the sea foam below. No longer could they hear the singing of the crickets.

“Look there.” Telric stopped his horse and pointed straight ahead.

The fortress reared in the distance, black and imposing. It rebelled against the night, blotting out stars with its tall, square towers and embattled walls and flat, massive buildings. At the rim of the highest cliff it squatted as if it dared the pounding surf to bring it down. It seemed to issue a quiet, grim challenge to the rest of the world.

Frost motioned for Telric to continue. She didn't need to tell him whom they would find in that dreadful estate. He nudged his mare and led the way, saying no more. The hand he kept at his sword's hilt was eloquence enough.

A strange, inexplicable sensation shivered through her as she gazed at the ancient edifice. Something nagged at the back of her mind, something important, but try as she might she could not grasp it. She listened for that small note of music inside herself that told her Kel was near. It rang, clear and strident, but it wasn't what bothered her.

The fortress itself seemed to reach out to her. Its walls echoed her name.

Unconsciously, she dropped the reins over her saddlebow and rode clutching a shank of the unicorn's mane. There was a measure of security in the familiar texture and in actually touching him.

In the shadow of the outer wall the trail made a sudden turn back into the forest. There was no choice but to follow it. The stars disappeared once again, shut out by the thick, leafy canopy. Though they could no longer see the Calendi, the sound of the relentless surf pursued them.

The trail ended before an immense set of gates. The doors were rusted iron, but even through the age and tarnish something glinted in the faint moonlight, a pattern of inlaid gold. Portions of the pattern had been gouged away, probably by lucky thieves. The forest had grown right up to the gates, unchecked. Creepers and ivy dripped from cracks and gaps in the old stone walls.

“Look,” Telric said, pointing.

High atop the gate, almost obscured by a spread of branches, perched a giant stone raven. Its wings were outstretched, its head thrown back as if in cry.

A short, strangled sound gurgled in her throat. She slid from the unicorn's back, crept hesitantly to the gates, and laid her palms against the cool, pitted metal. Then she leaned her forehead against it and banged her fists in anguish.

She knew now why the fortress had seemed to call to her, why it resonated so fearfully in the most intimate places of her heart.

“This was my home!” she cried to Telric. “By the lost gods of Tartarus Lake! Oh, curse you, Kel, curse you for leading me back here!”

“This was your father's house?” her companion echoed in a subdued voice.

She nodded, straightening, brushing back the hair that had cascaded over her face. She took a deep, angry breath, striving to control herself. “Somehow, Kel has found his ancestral seat. This estate was my father's and his father's father's. That raven above the gate was the device of our family. According to legend this land was given to us by Tak himself, our god of the dark mysteries, who came to us in the bird form and promised that all our women would excel in his teachings.”

“You mean witchcraft?”

“A true witch is extremely rare,” she told him, “but certainly in sorcery and wizardry and all the dark arts.”

He dismounted and came to her side. He leaned his weight against the heavy gates to no effect. “Now, it seems you have a male who also excels,” he said with a grunt.

“No,” she said. A grim note stole into her voice as she motioned him back. “
Excels
is the wrong word. Kel is very good. But he'll soon know that he's not good enough.”

For more than twenty years she had lived stripped of her witchcraft. She didn't know why it had returned, and she didn't know how. She didn't even know when. For some weeks, at least, she had used her power unawares, causing the weather to reflect her moods or her fears, turning cards that told true fortunes, conjuring the steppe winds to fan the funeral pyre at Soushane. And before even that? She remembered the impossible storm on the day she had found Kimon's body. That had been nearly a year ago. Had that been her doing?

It didn't matter. Her power had returned, and nothing else was important. It swelled within her like a living, growing force. It was easy for her to wield, as easy as lifting an arm or bending a finger.

She used only the smallest part of it, gently brushing Telric aside. Magically, the gates swung inward. There should have been scraping and creaking, the groaning of ancient hinges, but there was no sound at all.

The effect on the Rholarothan was profound. He stared, agape, rubbing his shoulder where he had strained against the doors. His gaze shifted to her. There was no fear in his eyes; he was beyond that reaction. But his discomfort was plain.

She mounted Ashur and waited for him to climb into his own saddle.

“Is Kel within?” he said slowly.

“You know he is,” she answered.

She led the way through the open gate, glancing up at the raven as she passed beneath it. It had been the symbol of a great house that once was respected throughout Esgaria. Now, it loomed over a ruin, seeming more than anything like a great, sated bird of carrion.

Inside the wall stretched a wide courtyard that made a full circle around the fortress. Weeds and brambles grew wild among the cobbled paving stones. A young tree flourished just inside the gate, part of some root system that had pushed under the bastion. Far to her left, Frost could make out the shadow of the barracks that once had housed a hundred men-at-arms. Past that, out of sight, would be another barracks, the armory, and the stables.

She remembered the sounds of practice combat, the
clack
of carriage wheels, the laughter of children that once had filled the yard. As clearly as if they were with her now, she heard her father's voice and her mother's, the voice of Burdrak, who had secretly and foolishly taught her the use of men's weapons.

And she recalled her brother, damn his worthless soul—his voice echoed here, too, bitter and jealous and hateful.

They were all dead, though, and the voices were nothing more than the wind that sighed across the weedy ground and whispered over the broken stone. Dark crimes had been committed here years agone: murder, fratricide, suicide. The servants, even the soldiers, must nave fled in confusion and terror, never to return, believing the land itself had been cursed.

Perhaps it is cursed
, she thought blackly,
and I am the cause
.

“Where is Kel?” Telric asked uneasily.

She didn't answer. A broad stair rose up to the estate's main entrance. She halted at the foot of it and slid from Ashur's back. Her touch lingered on the unicorn's shoulder, then reluctantly she took the first step upward. Telric dismounted and hurried after her. His sword gleamed unsheathed in his fist as they approached the huge, carven doors.

More ravens had been chiseled into the antique wood. Some of them flew upon the smooth, worn surface. Some perched on delicate branches, variously displaying magnificent wings. Once painted in careful detail, the pigment had flaked away with the years. Frost examined the doors carefully before touching them, assuring herself that Kel had placed no magical wards upon them. Then, seizing one of the two iron handles, she pushed inward.