Daughter of Witches: A Lyra Novel (12 page)

“I must,” Mist replied. “Our protections are thin enough now. They could not withstand any added strain, and I am not familiar with much of the magic the Temple uses. I must be sure they cannot trace us through the weapons Jaren has brought.”

“The Temple doesn’t use magic,” Shandy objected. “Magic is forbidden.” He frowned at Arelnath, who ignored him and handed Mist her sword belt. The examination took longer this time, for there were two weapons for Mist to handle. Finally she relaxed and shook her head. “Nothing.”

“I
told
you the Temple doesn’t use magic!” Shandy said triumphantly.

Mist turned toward him. “Your Temple
does
use magic,” she said firmly. “I have felt it. I feel it now, and I must find its source or the priests will track us down once more. Please do not distract me again.”

Arelnath seemed startled by Mist’s reaction, and Shandy squirmed uncomfortably. Jaren only smiled slightly and pointed to Ranira. “There is one more dagger,” he said.

Mist nodded and walked to Ranira’s side. She stooped and reached for the dagger that Ranira held out. As her fingers touched the hilt, she gasped and lost her hold. The weapon fell to the floor between the two women. Jaren bent to retrieve it.

“What have you found?” Arelnath demanded as Mist stepped back.

“I do not know,” Mist replied. “There was not enough time. I will have to try again.” Reluctantly, she reached once more for the dagger. Her face was tight as her fingers brushed Jaren’s on the hilt. Then her expression relaxed into astonishment. She blinked; her face became remote. It was a long time before she shook her head and handed the dagger back to Jaren.

“There is nothing here, either. How could I have been so mistaken?”

“Then it wasn’t the dagger you felt,” Arelnath said. Her eyes were on Ranira as she spoke.

“What do you mean? Why are you staring at me?” Ranira asked peevishly. Her head was aching again, and her mind felt suddenly fuzzy. She heard an exclamation from Jaren, but she couldn’t seem to focus her attention on what was happening. There was a flash of pain from her leg; then another. But her leg didn’t hurt like that unless she moved, and she wasn’t moving—was she?

“The jewels!” someone said above her. “Smash them!”

Ranira felt hands at her shoulders, ripping the jeweled lace away from her throat. As the jewels pulled away, it felt as if hooks were tearing her flesh, and she cried out in pain. She choked, unable to breathe. As she fought for air, Ranira heard Jaren’s voice cry faintly, “Mist! Look to her!”

Ranira’s vision cleared for a moment. She saw Mist kneeling beside her while Jaren and Arelnath stamped the black crystal jewels into powder. Then Mist took her hands, and white fire ran through Ranira’s bones like lightning. She would have cried out again, but she had no breath left.

As the fire grew stronger, Ranira felt something within her stir in answer to the storm of power and magic that poured through her body. Even as it did so, orange flames leaped before her eyes and she smelled the black smoke of old nightmares. Then she did scream. Dimly, she heard Mist’s cry, an echo of her own, but she was too stunned to respond to anything other than the flames that crept nearer and nearer.

Abruptly, Mist’s hands let go their hold. The sensation of power flooding through her vanished, and with it the flickers of fire. Ranira looked around wildly for a moment, searching for the flames she knew she had seen—but there were none. A wave of dizziness swept over her. She closed her eyes against the sudden distortion of the room, grateful that the fire had been an illusion but too tired to wonder how or why it had occurred.

T
HE DISORIENTATION LASTED ONLY
a few moments, then subsided, leaving Ranira relaxed and once more aware of her surroundings. She opened her eyes at once and glanced quickly around as she sat up. Mist lay nearby, with Arelnath bending over her in concern. Shandy hovered near the foot of the stairs, watching suspiciously as Jaren scattered the fine black dust that was all that remained of Ranira’s jewels. As Ranira watched, the blond man finished his task, dusted his hands, and turned to look at her.

“What happened?” she asked before he could say anything. She shifted to a more comfortable position, and suddenly realized that her leg no longer pained her. Her mind was clear as well. She looked toward Mist with a feeling of mingled curiosity and respect—tinged with suspicion. Jaren began to speak, and she jerked her wandering attention back to him.

“You were acting strangely,” Jaren said. “The jewels on your gown started smoking. I ripped them off, and Arelnath and I smashed them while Mist did… whatever she did. You’ll have to ask her, if you wish to know more.”

“The jewels?” Ranira said, staring. “I thought it was the drug that made me feel so strange.”

Jaren shrugged. “I am not trained in magic. Ask Mist and Arelnath,” he repeated. He glanced toward the two women and frowned, then called something in a language unfamiliar to Ranira. Arelnath answered in the same tongue, and Jaren nodded. “Mist is waking now, if you wish to ask any questions.”

His voice carried the length of the cellar easily, and Mist struggled to a sitting position. “We have no time for questions,” she said. “We must leave at once. The Temple will not take long to find us now.”

“What? But your protective spells!” Jaren said. He was not objecting; even as he spoke, he stretched out a hand to help Ranira to her feet.

“I could not hope to hide such a burst of power, even if the Temple could not trace the jewels,” Mist said. “We must go.”

“At once,” Arelnath said, nodding. She rose and offered an arm to Mist, then bent to retrieve the candle stub. Mist started toward the stairs. Jaren and Ranira followed close behind.

As they passed Shandy, the boy nodded in some satisfaction. “I told you magic was forbidden,” he said as he started up the stairs behind Ranira.

Ranira started to reply, but Jaren motioned her to silence. He leaned forward to listen at the door, then nodded. “Ranira, Shandy, let us guide you until we are outside and you can see again. Arelnath!”

Ranira heard the soft puff of breath below her on the stairs as Arelnath blew out the flame of the candle stub. The flickering light vanished, plunging the room into darkness. Ranira heard the click of the door latch and felt a hand on her shoulder. She stumbled forward in the darkness and heard a second door open. Moonlight flooded in. She did not stop to look around, but hurried forward into the alley.

Without waiting to be asked, Shandy slid by her and gestured for them all to follow him. Halfway up the alley he stopped and pointed at a narrow space between two buildings, then vanished inside it. A moment later he reappeared and beckoned. Mist nodded, and Arelnath stepped forward and disappeared. Mist followed; then it was Ranira’s turn.

She looked dubiously at the dark, narrow opening. Jaren stood in the shadows beside her, silent and still, but plainly waiting for Ranira to go ahead. Reluctantly, she started to slide between the walls. As she did so, she heard a quick intake of breath from Jaren, and instinctively her head turned. She had just time enough to see and grasp the significance of the eight robed figures at the end of the alley before Jaren shoved her forward. She felt him squeeze into the opening behind her, and she forced herself to move faster. She could not run; there was too little space.

Abruptly, the walls ended and Ranira stumbled into another alley. “Renra! This way,” Shandy hissed beside her.

“There are Templemen back there,” Ranira whispered back as she followed. “Hurry!”

The boy’s eyes widened, and he nodded and set off at once. Ranira and Jaren followed. Two shapes joined them as they passed along the edge of the alley: Mist and Arelnath. They did not need Jaren’s whispered “Templemen” to make them move more quietly; both were already as silent as shadows.

As they followed Shandy up the alley, Ranira expected any moment to hear Templemen behind them or see guards blocking their way in front. None appeared. Undisturbed, the little group worked its way across a narrow street and another alley, until a wordless shout from the direction of the old building announced that their former hiding place had been found.

Now their way became more difficult. Groups of Watchmen sped by, heading toward the source of the cry. Kaldarin had joined Elewyth in the sky, a thin red crescent split by the beginnings of a black stripe. The additional light, dim as it was, made dodging the Templemen harder, and the strain of constant wariness exhausted Ranira.

For hours they wove through the streets and alleys of Drinn, barely ahead of the Temple searchers. There were no pilgrims on the streets. They themselves were the only moving things besides the Temple guards and the rats. Wearily, Ranira wondered where all the people were. The inns never had enough space for all those visiting Drinn during Festival, but there was no sign of anyone too poor or too unlucky to find a room. The only place in Drinn big enough to hold them all was the Temple. She shivered at the implications of that thought and tried to thrust it out of her mind, but it would not go away.

They reached a small sheltered area, out of sight of the street. Ranira touched Jaren’s shoulder to attract his attention. If she could tell him her suspicions, perhaps they would cease to preoccupy her. The blond man turned and shook his head, then pointed. Ahead, Shandy was standing in front of a pile of rubble. The front wall of the building still stood, but the rest of it appeared to be simply a heap of boards and broken bricks. There was no sign of Mist or Arelnath.

As they came closer, Shandy grinned and pointed. Ranira bent down. Near the base of the pile was an opening, hardly more than an irregular gap in the tumbled brick. She looked up and Shandy pointed again, insistently. Ranira bent once more and began squirming into the hole.

It was not as difficult as she had feared. The opening was larger than it looked, and though the tunnel beyond was lumpy and uncomfortable, it was passable. It twisted right, then sloped sharply downward, toward the interior of the pile. At the top of the incline, Ranira found it impossible to move forward. Her hands scratched ahead of her. Then her feet found a securely embedded rock, and she twisted and shoved. Suddenly she was sliding down the slope; then, in a shower of brick dust, she rolled into an open area and collided with someone.

“Who are you?” a voice whispered.

Ranira was coughing too hard to answer at once. She felt a knife point prick her throat. “Ranira,” she whispered hastily between spasms, and the pressure vanished. “Shandy and Jaren are behind me,” she added when the coughing finally subsided.

“It took you long enough,” Arelnath grumbled in the darkness. “I thought a Templeman had found you.”

Jaren’s arrival spared Ranira a reply. She could not see him, but the low-voiced curses mixed with coughing were more than enough to identify him. Beside her, Arelnath snorted. “Quiet, Jaren. We don’t know how far sound carries here,” she whispered.

“You can’t hear anything outside,” Shandy’s voice informed them in a normal tone. “Long as nobody shouts they won’t notice, even if a Templeman is standing on top of the rocks. And nobody can see lights, either. I blocked the entrance.”

“Good,” Arelnath said. “You are thorough.” A moment later the candle stub flared in her hand.

They were in a rough cave formed by part of a collapsing floor and a few strong beams that kept the rest of the rubble at bay. In the middle of the floor, next to a dusty green bottle, lay a little bag which Ranira recognized as the one Shandy sometimes carried to collect kitchen scraps. Somewhere was an opening for air to enter; Ranira could feel a slow draft on her face.

The quarters were crowded for five people, but no one complained. Jaren coiled down against the beam nearest the exit and looked expectantly at Mist. “What now?” he asked.

“We must find a way out of Drinn. Today, or tonight,” Mist said. Her eyes were closed; she seemed far more exhausted than the effort of dodging Templemen should have warranted.

Shandy snorted skeptically. “How do you think you can do that? The Templemen watch the gates in double shifts, and nobody could sneak out even when there was only two of them.”

“We must find a way,” Mist repeated in a low voice. Her eyes opened in a long, slow motion. Ranira saw something like desperation in them. “I cannot hold out longer than that.”

“What do you mean?” Arelnath demanded. “Protective spells are not that draining. With food and water, this place should be safe until the middle of this Mother-lost Festival. By then it should be easier to slip past the guards, and there’s not much point in leaving earlier. Venran won’t be at our meeting place for another four days, at least, and it’s certainly possible that his caravan may be delayed.”

“If we wait beyond tonight, there is no place in the city that will be safe for us.” Mist said. “The Temple watches constantly and that pressure is draining, since I do not dare use any but the most subtle spells. Even those I cannot keep secret for long. Yet, without them, we would be detected at once. I do not know how they channel such power. You have had some training; can you not feel it?”

Arelnath frowned in concentration. “No, but I have very little skill. I will have to trust to your abilities.”

“The watchers must rest sometime,” Jaren said thoughtfully. “Magic is so hated that there cannot be many priests in Drinn with the knowledge to trace us. Can you not rest when they do?”

Mist shook her head. “It is easier then, but not enough. I must be prepared for them to begin again. I fear, too, that they prepare some other magic against us; I have felt the edges of it brushing by. We must be out of Drinn before they are ready.”

“Then we will leave tonight,” Jaren said calmly.

“How?” Ranira asked pointedly.

“When the streets fill with people, it will be easier to avoid the guards,” Jaren said, “and it should not be hard to find some of those brown robes and a couple of veils. You…”

“Jaren, I will not wear one of those things!” Arelnath interrupted. “I am a Cilhar warrior. I will not pretend to be a brainless slave. I thought we settled this when I agreed to this harebrained scheme of yours!”