Herd Mistress (In Deception's Shadow Book 2) (21 page)

Ahead, the banner of Shadowdancer’s tail became
Sorsha’s guidepost. Far beyond merely winded, she maintained a fast trot only
through pride, will power, and spite for Trensler.
I’m a Stonemantle. I’ll
not allow that hateful old man to win.

But with each stride Shadowdancer was gaining ground.
It didn’t help that they were high into the mountains, where the air was
thinner, the wind was relentless, and the ancient trail had been reduced by the
weather into nothing more than a rocky goat trail. Sorsha slowed to a walk when
the path veered around a sharp bend and started to climb another steep slope.
With his frequent backward glances, Shadowdancer was bound to notice her
flagging pace. Deciding she’d better pull up before he had a chance to scold
her for not telling him she needed a rest, she called out to him. “I must
stop.”

Shadowdancer halted so suddenly it was almost comical.
He swiftly doubled back and approached with what Sorsha was coming to recognize
as his ‘mothering’ look.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” He all but
shouted as he walked in a circle around her. He reached back and pulled a
blanket from his pack. “While you can run circles around me when you’re fresh,
I thought we established you don’t have my stamina. You promised to tell me
before you lamed yourself.” He continued to grouse at her as he began rubbing
the blanket over her damp coat.

“I just told you.”

He rumbled some unintelligible reply under his breath
and continued rubbing her with more vigor. When the majority of the sweat was
mopped from her body, he swatted her across the rump. “Keep walking.” Crossing
his arms, he bestowed another of his black frowns upon her. “I said walk, not
trot. You need to cool yourself down.”

“I know, I know.” She rolled her eyes at him.
“Mother.”

He grunted, but kept pace with her, occasionally
reaching out to run a hand down a hip or leg, checking for abnormal heat or
swelling.

Finally fed up with his cloistering, she swatted his
searching hands away. “I’m fine. I just needed to slow down for a while.”

“No, you’re not fine. You’re nearly dead on your
feet.”

Sorsha would have continued the debate, but the path
widened, opening into an unnatural plateau. It was like something had come and
cut away the mountain’s peak, leaving a smooth, completely flat area in its
place.

“Bright Light,” she whispered. Then gathering her
wits, she turned to Shadowdancer for an explanation.

“Long ago, before the Elementals lived under a
unifying monarchy and council, the Phoenix hunted in these mountains and valleys,
nesting just a day’s ride from here. The temple was built to serve their needs.
Other trails, like the one we are following, all lead to platforms such as
this. Here, the other land-bound races came to trade with the Phoenix for the
gold and other precious metals the Fire Elementals could melt and call out of
the mountains.”

“Mercy.” Sorsha trotted farther across the unnaturally
broad flat mountain top, and stopped well away from the edge with its sheer
drop. Below, a lush valley stretched between the mountains, a jewel bright
ribbon showcasing nature’s bounty. It seemed so out of place compared to the
surrounding snow-capped, grey peaks. “By the Gods, it’s beautiful.”

Shadowdancer approached from behind, the ring of his
hooves echoing ahead of him as he slid alongside. A gust of wind picked up, and
howled through the mountains. It snatched at her hair, twisting it around her
head as her tail whipped out behind her. Instinctively she pressed into him,
pushing them both away from the steep edge. Shadowdancer chuckled, skirted
around her and put himself between her and the empty air.

The smile on his face froze, and a moment later his
nostrils flared as a dark expression flashed in his eyes.

“What is it?” But even as she asked, her eyes were
following in the same direction.

Far below, on the north bank of what must have been a
narrow, deep river, a group of eighteen mounted riders angled out across the
grass. The distance was too great to make out any features, but she didn’t need
to be close to know who rode down there.

She tried not to think of those poor lifeless-eyed
Santhyrians.

Shadowdancer turned his head in her direction, his
fierce eyes searching her face. Silence stretched between them. Words weren’t
necessary. She knew what was required.

Shadowdancer had been measuring his stride to hers,
maintaining an easier pace, one she could manage without killing herself.
Locking her eyes on his, she said, “You must go.” Then she nudged him and
pointed back down into the valley. “Or they’ll get there first.”

The muscles in his jaw flexed.

She placed a finger to his lips. “It’s the only way. I
might be able to catch up to the Acolytes. Maybe. But I won’t be able to get
ahead of them. Not until I’ve rested and recovered. And we may not have the
time or luxury. We both know that.”

His expression wasn’t any less divided as he started
to struggle out of the pack. She brushed his hands away and worked at the
buckles. When the straps loosened, he placed his hands over hers. With one hand
pressed over his heart, she could feel the strong beat pick up under her
fingers.

She needed to say something before he galloped out of
her life again. “I don’t regret loving you. I’ll never regret loving you.”

He sighed softly. “You know my heart has always been
yours; it was yours from the first moment your silly mare spooked and threw you
under my hooves. I will come back for you if I can. Be safe.”

She reached up and bestowed a quick kiss on his cheek.
“You, too.”

He nodded. After he dug around in the pack a moment,
he came up with one of the water canteens clasped in his hand. She took it from
him and looped its strap over his head, adjusting it so it wouldn’t interfere
with his bow or quiver. He dropped the pack containing the rest of their
supplies at her feet.

Still he hesitated.

“Go.” If he didn’t get to the Falcon Staff before
Trensler, she doubted if either of them would survive long enough to need
supplies. “I’ll follow your trail when I’m able.”

“Until we meet again.” His left hand cupped her cheek,
and then dropped away as he stepped sideways. He spun and broke into a fast
trot. She watched him navigate the rocky trail with far more agility than she
possessed. Her gaze followed his progress until he was out of sight. Then she
closed her eyes and listened to the sound of his hooves as they faded into
silence.

“Come back to me,” she whispered. Wind snatched up her
words and carried them farther along the trail.

* * * *

His muscles burned with fatigue, sweat dripped down
his human torso and flecks of foam lathered his coat, but at least it was
marginally cooler under the dense tree canopy. Shadowdancer glanced up and
tried to get a glimpse of the mountain slopes rising up out of the valley, but
the forests cloaking the valley’s bottom proved too thick. He couldn’t see the
one peak he wanted. Not that Sorsha would still have been there even if by some
miracle he could see through the trees and across the distance. Sorsha was too
stubborn to wait where he’d left her. She would still be following him, albeit
at a slower pace. One that he hoped kept her safely behind Trensler and his
men.

Worry for Sorsha distracted Shadowdancer and he nearly
missed the ancient cobbles poking out between clumps of short spring grass.
He’d been following the river for most of the morning, descending the wooded
slopes. All the while heading in the direction he knew the temple must lie.
When a candlemark had come and gone, he’d started to fear he’d never find the
old road.

But he’d found it at last.

With renewed energy he followed the cobbles as they
climbed higher up the opposite slope, away from the river and the valley floor.
The trees thinned and more of the road showed through the grass. Far ahead, a
cliff reared up into the sky. Shadowdancer grimaced at the distance, but relief
shivered across his skin. At least he was nearing the correct location. Midway
up that cliff face would be an ancient post and lintel archway framing a
shadowy opening. From there stairs would lead up and deeper into the cliff,
gradually climbing to the top where the ruins of the temple still stood.

Before he continued on, he stopped for a momentary
rest and looked back the way he’d come. He scanned the forest covered valley
floor and then back up the other side, to the opposite mountains. Sorsha was
over there somewhere. Less than a day’s ride behind. By herself. With Acolytes
somewhere between them. His stomach tightened with dread and his skin quivered.

* * * *

Another candlemark’s worth of travel brought him to
the cliff face with its steep winding trail. The zigzagging path terminated
halfway up the mountain side at a dark cave-like maw. With a deep sigh, he
shaded his eyes against the noon sun and followed the white scar up the side of
the cliff. Even though he was bone weary, he saw no point in putting off the
climb. Every moment he delayed gave Trensler a chance to get that much closer.

And if that falsely fragile-looking man was on the
same continent, he was too close. Gathering his hindquarters under himself,
Shadowdancer surged forward, cantering up the cut-stone path. The sun began its
westward trek as Shadowdancer negotiated the winding path, his shadow racing
him up the side of the cliff.

He paused in front of the cave-like entrance, and
peered through the darkness. A sharply uttered curse escaped him when he saw
the stout double doors blocking his way. Reaching out a cautious finger, he
brushed it across the dark wood, and felt the hum of power. He groaned.

Nothing had been easy of late, why should this be any
different?

With a measured patience he wasn’t feeling,
Shadowdancer began the delicate work of unraveling the spell blocking the
doors. It was an old spell, very complex and not particularly friendly, but he
thanked the Oracle for its borrowed strength and knowledge.

* * * *

Shadowdancer lunged up the endless dark of the steps
carved into the heart of the mountain. He’d lost precious time working at the
doors leading to this place, and now he was losing even more to this
infuriating stairwell. Perhaps he hadn’t beaten the spell on the doorway at all
and even now he was trapped in some enchantment.

Doubts crept in yet he forced himself onward. Just
when those doubts were about to take a stronger foothold, the darkness
lightened to a dim grey before becoming brighter still, until once again
blessed daylight was within sight. Relief swept through him, leaving his
innards all too weak and jittery. A Santhyrian was never meant to be trapped in
the darkness underground, or deep inside a mountain, either. Only a half dozen
more steps and he’d be free of the subterranean tunnel, which cut its way up
through the mountain. The promise of level ground hurried him along.

A windswept plateau stretched out and away as he
emerged from the dark hole in the ground. The fresh cold air had never felt so
good.

Shadowdancer slowed to a walk, exhausted and
sweat-slicked. The temple, which had looked mostly intact from below, showed
obvious signs of age now that he was closer. Several of the columns running the
length of the temple’s front wall had already fallen. Broken pieces of whitish
stone littered the ground below the stairs. A few rugged grasses and wild
flowers grew up among the pillars. One hardy vine had climbed up and over the
lintel of the temple’s main threshold, softening the pale stone more.

Shadowdancer eased closer to the steps and tested one
with a hoof. It felt solid under his weight so he scrambled up the stairs and
into the darkness of the temple’s mouth. A sense of extreme age and deep sorrow
pressed in from all around. He fought the urge to back right out of the temple
again.
My journey is almost at an end. I must do this.

The way ahead was darker, but as his eyes adjusted he
could make out the shape of a vast open chamber. At least the temple was still
upright. If the ceiling had crumbled, he didn’t know how he would have gotten
to the Falcon Staff in time. With a bitter smile, he reflected this wasn’t the
best thought out of endeavors. If he was lucky, he’d live to make better
choices in the future.

At the far side of the structure, along the back wall,
he found another opening and a set of stairs leading down into yet more
darkness. There weren’t any torches convenient, and without knowing how far
away Trensler was, Shadowdancer was reluctant to call upon more magic that
might announce his location. With a whispered prayer he started down blind.

Midway down, or at least what he hoped was midway, his
eyes adjusted to the night dark place, and he realized it wasn’t as dark as he
had expected. Pale blue light glimmered weakly far below. Shadowdancer
continued to place one hoof ahead of the next carefully as he continued down.

At the bottom, a disheartening sight registered on his
tired mind. In the center of a room that looked similar to the Oracle Tower’s
bonding chamber, twelve great crystal pillars circled a small raised dais.
Unfortunately the pillars were active. A powerful Ward guarded what lay on the
altar.