The Lords of Anavar (22 page)

Faeya Ryr thought for a moment. "I believe we spent four days in there. It's as close as I can determine. That spell warped all senses."

"I know. Are you all right? Have you recovered?"

"I am fine. I am not as fragile as Gerrand thinks I am. I am not a little flower. Do not think that way yourself." She smiled despite the edge in her voice. "How are you?"

"Tired, but I think I'm okay. Did the spell attack more than our minds?"

"I don't think so, but we best be wary. I checked both of us and there is nothing I can detect, but Wolk might be able to hide a spell from me. We won't be sure until we see Gerrand."

He nodded. He cut strips of the venison and gingerly ate the hot pieces. In his mind he envisioned what they would need to continue their pursuit of Wolk and if they could find it in this remote area.

"Deah, I sense something near that big tree beyond the bluish rock. Do you see it?"

"I see the tree, but little else. Is it something alive?"

"I don't think so. It sends out a faint tingle like a spell. It reminds me of Artus."

"Perhaps it is because he was here, or maybe he has left something else for us."

"Or Petyr Wolk did."

Deah Vole circled around one side and Faeya Ryr went the other way. Nestled in the underbrush of the tree was a sack. Deah Vole looked at Faeya Ryr who nodded. He reached forward and picked it up. He opened it facing away from himself. When nothing happened he slowly peered inside it. He grinned.

"A knife, salt, beef, water and two cloaks. The cloaks are small, but they will help."

"Good old Artus," said Faeya Ryr. "Gerrand sure knew what he was doing when he sent him up here."

"I owe Artus and Gerrand several large cold mugs of ale."

"I will pay Gerrand myself." She grinned and Deah Vole laughed.

After they ate and sorted out what supplies they possessed Deah Vole led the way north. He scouted nearly a mile ahead before setting out to be sure of the direction and discovers if Wolk had left a trap. So far, it proved safe, but Wolk was devious enough to lay a trap several miles past where a pursuer would expect it. Faeya Ryr used her power to search the area before them despite the fact that it tired her quickly.

"Where do you think he is going?" asked Faeya Ryr. "I am not familiar with Curesia."

"If he sustains this direction he will come out of the mountains west of Jespin. He has an estate there. I would bet that is where he is heading."

"Any shortcuts?"

"None that I know of."

"We better keep following in the event he changes course."

"Yes. I guess it is up to us. There is no one else. Gerrand won't find us if he returns to where he left us."

"He can find me. He can reach out with his sorcery and find any of the Mages. He told us that at the castle in Lathor. No one knew it before and Tyman Stile was noticeably surprised."

The trail did not add much altitude to their journey but the trees failed by the afternoon and Deah Vole felt exposed as they trudged along. However, there was little they could do to hide themselves. Faeya Ryr told him that shielding them with magic would be fine except they pursued a sorcerer who could sense such spells and make them easier to find. Deah Vole muttered to himself and tried to cover as much ground as possible.

"But why is it different when you scouted using your magic? Wouldn't Wolk have seen you then?"

"If he was close enough. That type of spell leaves very little trace, but a shielding spell nearly rings with power and is obvious to any Mage looking in our direction."

The next day the trail sloped back into the trees but it was rockier as if someone tried to pave it with stone. However, the trail had not been used enough to wear down the edges of the stones and it cut at their boots. It felt good to be out of the direct sunlight and into the shade of the towering trees. Deah Vole tried to keep their pace slow. They showed a tendency to increase speed as the trail flattened.

"Why did you not become a Mage?" asked Faeya Ryr.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Some of the skills are learned of course, but the native talent comes with birth. If Techna had the talent, then you must also."

"That's foolish talk."

"More foolish to ignore it. Why else would Artus have spoken to you rather than me? You don't have the skill for many of the spells. Why did he choose you over me? I may have been farther under the spell than you so Artus chose you. However, that still doesn't explain how you could hear him and use the spell he taught you. You did resist the spell better than I did. It was a blanket spell, not searching for any particular person. You were hit with the same force of spell that hit me, and yet, you recovered sooner."

"I do not know how to answer."

"Techna is your brother. There are no closer ties to determining who has the gift. Artus and his father, Alec, both have the gift and Artus thinks his sister does too. I would bet on it. It isn't some medallion hung around your neck or a blue pointed hat that makes you a Mage. The power is innate to you."

"I will have to think on that. I never gave it much thought. Now, I wonder. I believed my tracking was a skill acquired and you say it might be magic. Will everything I excel in come down to magic? Is there nothing I can do myself?"

"You must think of the magic as yourself. Do not separate Deah Vole and magic. It is one and the same. Not everything you do will be enhanced by magic. I believe you fear hard work gone for naught?"

"Exactly. Well, let us stop for lunch just beyond the next rise. This talking is hard work."

Faeya Ryr laughed and searched out the area ahead with her power. There was something there, but she could not read it.

"Ware! I cannot tell what it is, but something awaits us."

"Enemy?"

"Does not seem so, yet I cannot clearly determine what it is. It is very powerful."

Deah Vole scanned the slopes around the trail. The rocky terrain appeared too steep to go around the pass and there was no other way. He motioned for Faeya Ryr to remain while he moved forward. As he approached the rise, he kept to the left in the shadows of the trees. He thought he saw movement and froze. An arrow struck the tree above his head.

"Come out, Deah Vole," called Gerrand. "Eva nearly spitted you with that arrow, although if she wanted to she would have done so, no doubt. Faeya!!"

Gerrand came forward as Faeya Ryr ran to him and hugged him tightly. Gerrand started to cough and had to disengage.

"My dear. Remember my frailty."

"Don't start that again."

"I am pleased to see both of you. I am afraid we have lost quite a number. Cehana, Tyman Stile, Hile Berbac, Doad Bess, and I am sorry to say, your brother, Techna."

Deah Vole stepped away; his eyes pressed tightly shut.

"You knew about Doad?" asked Faeya Ryr.

"Yes. I was not kidding when I told you I could sense each of the Mages. Even now, Yanor and Alec Endria flee the castle. Macelan controls Tyman Stile. Lars Vokas and Zae Pol are leaving Finald with unlooked for assistance."

"Will you explain?"

"No. I see the signs, but I cannot decipher them, yet. When I do, I shall inform you."

"Gerrand, I believe you are not willing to share your doubts with me, and wait until you are certain of the facts."

"That is true."

"How is that a basis for our relationship?"

"We are not married yet, Faeya."

"Will it be different then?" She glared at him.

"Of course. Then we share equally in all my follies and fears. I spend much time going back and forth over ideas and decisions that I appear less stupid when I hold my tongue until something useful comes along."

"You know. I almost believe that."

"It's a start."

"What do we do now?" asked Deah Vole. "I assume Eva is the only archer you found."

"True. We must follow Wolk, rescue Artus, and hope the man I sent to stop the Curesia war with Wierland is successful."

"Who did you send?" asked Deah Vole.

"An old friend of yours by the name of Nairkor."

"Ah," laughed Deah Vole. "You saw through his disguise."

"Anyone who spent a moment studying him would wonder at the swordsman's grace on an innkeeper."

"That's true, but most of his patrons don't see too well after the first hour or so. Not many of Gharom's people frequent his place. Skellen has a couple men who watch for such unwanted guests and alert everyone and I mean everyone. All of the paying customers have their own reasons to avoid the notice of the High Lord. Perhaps that's part of the reason they pay little attention to their host."

"I believe you are correct."

"Where's Eva?" asked Faeya Ryr. "I never saw her. I saw the arrow but she never came out."

"Probably guarding us," said Gerrand. "Eva! Come out, child. Come eat with us."

"Didn't Wolk capture her?" asked Deah Vole.

"Yes," said Faeya Ryr. "She vanished from our eyes. Gerrand, did you rescue her?"

"No, she found me after I left Jespin."

A silence hung over them. Deah Vole pulled Faeya Ryr back into the trees.

"Gerrand!" Deah Vole hissed. "Get down!"

"Eva!" Gerrand called again.

A green flash erupted from under a branch and a glowing arrow thudded into Gerrand's chest. He staggered and sat hard on the ground. Faeya Ryr rushed out to him. Deah Vole remained where he was. A slight figure came out of the trees, dragging her bow behind her.

"I had to do it," she said softly. "It was the only way to get the voice out of my head. I am sorry. I found the arrow in my quiver."

She convulsed and her face blurred. Each of her sibling's faces appeared over hers. Each displayed pain and horror and pleaded with Gerrand in silence. Then Alavaria's face appeared, tears streaking down her eyes.

"I'm sorry we failed you. We had no chance against the sorcerer. He ripped our souls from us and we are spent. The pain! Gerrand! Why did this happen to us! You should have protected us, but you weren't there, you left us to the sorcerer!" The crescendo of screams left her empty of spirit. She didn't say another word. She laid down on the trail next to Gerrand and closed her eyes.

"Are you all right?" asked Deah Vole.

"Of course not!!! I have an arrow in me, you idiot!"

"He'll recover," said Faeya Ryr. "I wonder why it glowed."

"What?"

"Before it struck you the arrow glowed."

"I may be in more trouble than I thought. Spelled, I bet."

Faeya Ryr used her knife to cut some of the flesh away. Deah Vole pulled the arrow out. Gerrand furrowed his brow, sweat beading on his skin. The wound did not heal. Gerrand frowned.

"That's never happened before," said Gerrand.

"Let me try," said Faeya Ryr. She put her hand on the wound but no change. "Deah put your hand on mine. Gerrand, the three of us must try together."

"So Deah finally figured out he's a Mage?"

"We will talk about it later," pleaded Deah Vole.

They focused on the wound. Deah Vole felt surprise from the heat flowing through their hands. He became aware of everything around him, each sound, each smell and most of all, a draining of his energy. After several minutes, they pulled away. There was no change in the arrow wound.

"A wound that won't heal. Wonderful. I wonder why she didn't hit me in the leg. Then I would not be able to travel."

"You still must move slowly," said Faeya Ryr. "Now, let us question Eva further."

"Too late," said Deah Vole, kneeling next to the girl. "She's dead."

"All the archers have died," said Gerrand, sighing. "And we gain nothing from their sacrifice. I had misgivings from the first."

"Do not blame yourself," said Faeya Ryr. "I will examine Eva. Perhaps I can learn something. You must rest." She kissed his lips and went to the still form of the girl.

Later, Deah Vole buried Eva several yards from the trail under a pile of rocks. He scratched her name and parentage on a flat rock with his knife. He spoke a few words and went back to Gerrand who sat on a rock, his head in his hands.

"I found little," said Faeya Ryr. "Other than the knowledge that is was Petyr Wolk who wove spells around her."

"Any hints of anyone else?" asked Gerrand.

"You mean Macelan?"

"That's who I mean. Wolk only, not even Artus?"

"No trace of Artus in her spell. He may not even know what happened to her. It may have been while he tried to help us. He wouldn't be able to spread his attention out wide enough to watch others while he used his magic."

"You are right. I had hoped to begin teaching him those skills at the castle. I wonder if I ever will."

"Don't be negative," said Faeya Ryr. "Of course you will."

"We must keep moving," said Deah Vole. "If we are to catch them. Gerrand will not be able to walk far or long so we best be as efficient as possible."

"I hear your reproach," chuckled Gerrand. "I have never been efficient, but I shall try for all our sakes."

Gerrand leaned on a walking stick Deah Vole carved for him and Faeya Ryr walked beside him. Deah Vole kept a hundred yards ahead of them. They moved slowly down the trail as it became very steep in areas.

"Will you call the others to Jespin?" asked Faeya Ryr. "We will need their help."

"That is true," replied Gerrand, between breaths. "However, they all have their own parts to play in this drama. I dare not take them away from what they might accomplish."

"Might?"

"Nothing is certain. They may all fail, but I doubt it. Our victory is hinged on many small events and their unlikely completion in the manner we need."

"Is it so doubtful?"

"Nearly so, my dear. Nearly so."

"Is Macelan really in these mountains?" She was asking more to occupy Gerrand's mind and keep the pain from dominating him. It worked. His brow creased and his mind raced.

"Yes and no. It is not a short story, nor one to tell while hiking, especially so close to the old devil. His remains are here, somewhere, but his spirit flies free and wide. Do not think of him as human for he can be in many places at one time. It is really very frightening to me to realize how much trouble he can cause."