The Thirteenth Scroll (43 page)

“Why?” Giraldus said harshly, forcing the words out through gritted teeth. “Why do you need them—and the fire?”

Aurya was surprised to hear Giraldus question her. She could feel that her spell still held him and that he spoke at all was
a testament to his strength of will and his concern for his men. With every word, speaking became easier for Giraldus. His
voice became more clear, more
normal
, and Aurya could plainly hear the anger and the accusation it contained.

“What are you planning?” he demanded. “You charge us into that town like the devil’s burning your tail and now, instead of
chasing your prey, you have us stop and build a fire. Tell me in plain words what you’re planning. They are my men, and I’ll
not see them harmed.”

Aurya was annoyed by his questions. But for the sake of their years together and the future to come, she answered him.

“Yes, we have to chase
our
prey,” she said, “but look around, Giraldus… which way did they go and how many are they? What road did they take and what
is their destination? Where along the way can we catch them? What
I’m about to do will tell us all that—that and more. Now, do as I have ordered and make the fire. I must be ready when the
men arrive.”

Her last words were spoken as a command, and though Giraldus did not like it, he obeyed. It took him several long minutes
to collect enough wood from the fallen branches of the sparse and twisted bushes that dotted the landscape to make enough
of a fire for Aurya’s needs. He was just setting it when Aurya finally heard the sounds of the soldiers’ horses.

Once they arrived, she sent them to gather any remaining wood they could find and set it beside the fire. It was neither as
big a flame nor as large a stack of wood as she wanted, but it would serve—it would have to.

Finally ready, she ordered the men to form a circle around her. Then she faced the flames, using them as her focus as she
called forth her powers. Soon, she felt the magical fire burning, filling her with heat as surely as that coming from the
flames before her. She began to chant.

“Elements of night and darkness, into this waiting vessel flow;

Power given, Power taken, Power rule, and Power know.”

Her magic, already astir, flared with a sudden rush that sent Aurya’s senses reeling. Rarely had she felt such a burst of
power.

The men waited nervously in the circle she had directed them to make. Now she turned from the flames to face them. She began
to walk withershins around the circle, chanting her spell. She found the fear and fascination on their faces invigorating
as three times she made the circle, weaving a thread of magic behind her.

She stopped at the head of the circle, the north where Giraldus stood. She stepped closer and closer, finally forcing him
to take three steps back. When he was in position, she touched his forehead with her fingertips.

“Element of Fire, I name thee,” she said. “Power of Fire, I claim thee. Fire, in might, stand guard this night.”

As her fingertips left his forehead, Giraldus’s body stiffened slightly. The first sentry was in place. Giraldus, as anchor
of the spell she was now casting, would feel the connection of powers meet in him most strongly of anyone here, save herself.
Aurya wanted him to feel it, to know something of what she felt each time she called her magic forth.

Still walking withershins, Aurya stepped back into the circle and went a few more paces, to the soldier whose back was to
the west. Here, too, she stepped forward, forcing him three paces back. She repeated the words of the spell, naming him Water.

South was Earth and east was Air; the guards were set at the four corners of the ancient magical elements. Aurya once more
made three circuits around, this time outside the main body of men; three circuits walked
between
the elemental sentries and those whose energy she would soon be harvesting.

Finally, Aurya stepped back into the center by the fire and raised her arms, up and out, palms turned toward the night. In
a louder voice, she completed her spell:

“Fire, Water, Earth, and Air

Summoned by my power here;

Here to watch and here to guard,

Here to protect—this circle Ward.

Close this circle with ancient might,

My magic and my will alone

May pierce the strength of Ward and watching

Until I break thy web of stone.”

To the others within the circle, it felt as if they suddenly stood beneath a clear canopy. Only Aurya could actually
see
the charge of power all around them. To her, the stars overhead dimmed, the outer landscape blurred, and the sounds of the
night were muted to silence.

She glanced at Giraldus. His eyes were wide with surprise as he felt the arcane forces meeting in his body. Aurya knew this
spell could not continue for long, not if she wanted to ride on tonight. If held too long, even such a basic casting as a
Warding Circle could drain those through whom the magic flowed.

Aurya would not need much time. All of the men were woven into a single current of power. She was ready to harness that energy,
gather it into herself to mold and shape and cast it outward again. What returned would tell her all she needed.

Aurya knelt. She shrugged off her cloak to let herself be bathed more fully in the heat rising from the fire and in the Goddess-light
of the moon. She looked deeply into the heart of the flames:

“All are one within this place,

This circle now by magic shielded;

In one combined and woven strong,

One in power, shaped and wielded.

Into me now I do command,

For magic’s sake, the life force flows

Until my words shall send it forth;

My will commands where power goes.”

Aurya felt the spell working. At this moment she was a creature of magic, her tether to her mortal life was anchored only
by ambition and the greed for what this life could still give her.

“On wings of Will, my magic flies

To find the ones now from me running,

And see more clear than eagle’s eyes

My enemies’ acts of stealth and cunning.

Reveal my prey and let me see

Within these flames, this province wide;

One path to find, one path to follow—

Let none from me have power to bide.”

Aurya waited, glowing from the heat within and without. In the dream of several nights ago, she had been the black griffin
of Kilgarriff. She used that image to send her Spell of Finding flying on magic wing, colored and shining as onyx, searching
for the white dove that was its prey. But this time
she
would be the destroyer, not the destroyed.

The flames flared as a picture began to form. It was hazy, hard to discern—as if some magic she did not know was blocking
it. Had she been alone, she might have been defeated. Now she drew even more greedily on Giraldus and his men. She channeled
the power outward on her will and through her eyes, to force the revelation she desired from the unwilling night.

There
, she had it; she wanted to shout her victory, but she dared not break her focus. She saw the little band of travelers she
thought of only as The Others. In the flames she saw the outline of two women, one accompanied by a large dog; she saw a man—a
priest, his clothing proclaimed. And there was someone else—some
thing
—else,
but its identity her magic refused to penetrate. Whatever it was, had a power to shield itself such as she had never before
encountered.

But where is the child?
The thought contained a touch of panic she refused to acknowledge.
Perhaps it is the child who is shielded
.

That had to be it. If these were not the ones she sought, her magic would have passed over them, as it had all the other inhabitants
of Rathreagh.

She saw where they were heading—through the bogs to the river.
Fools
, she thought with a renewed sense of triumph. Who did the child have for protection—a priest, two women, and a dog… and now
those
protectors
were leading the child straight where it should not go. The bogs were dangerous enough by day, but trying to traverse them
by night was an act as foolhardy as it was desperate.

Aurya smiled, for she and the others had only to ride to the far side, between the bogs and the river, and catch this weak
band as they emerged. Perhaps the bogs would even decrease their number before she caught them.

But before she broke the circle, Aurya would do one more Casting, this time directly against her enemies.

“Hearts of haste and footsteps running,

Falter on the path ahead;

Muscles fail and focus wander

Each step make feel like feet of lead.

Slow and slower become thy travels,

Each breath exhaled thy strength doth spend;

Cease thy passage, end thy running,

And thus our separation mend.”

Aurya’s smile grew for she could feel that this spell was well cast. It would find those toward whom it was
directed, further ensuring that her company would be able to overtake them. Before the next night was through, the child would
be in her control.

Now she must break the circle and see how much time would be demanded in recovery before they could ride on. She stood and
began retracing her steps, going deosil this time.

As she released each man, he fell to the ground, unable to move. Aurya was bewildered; her spells had not lasted long enough
for such a reaction. Each man should have been tired, but after an hour or so of rest been fine.

The men of the inner circle were now all released, and lay upon the ground like boneless heaps. With a sudden touch of fear,
Aurya began releasing the four who stood as the Guard of the Elements.

They, too, collapsed as her touch upon their foreheads freed them from the power that had held them captive. Finally, she
reached Giraldus, the anchor of the Wards. Though he stood still straight and tall, it was not of his own power. His eyes
were rolled partway up into his head and there were flecks of foam at the corners of his mouth.

Quickly Aurya touched his forehead, murmuring the words of release. She caught him as he started to fall and lowered him gently
to the ground.

What went wrong here?
Her thoughts raced.
What have I done?

She went to examine the other men. Some of them were barely breathing. It was as if the life force within them had been sapped
by something other than herself.

This place
, she thought with a recognition of danger that had come too late.
What is this place? Who made it?

Aurya built up the fire again, then began examining the perimeter of the circle. Once again the little stacks of stones drew
her attention. Kneeling, she saw that the stones
bore marks she had not seen earlier. But nothing she recognized, and they told her nothing.

Then, suddenly, she felt weak, dizzy. She tried to stand and found she could not.

Out
, she thought, her mind feeling as fuzzy and disconnected as did her body now.
I must get out…
.

She could barely make herself move. It was by sheer force of will that she dragged herself past the stack of stones she had
been examining. Then the weakness became too much, and she sank to the ground.

Her breath came in gulps at first. Slowly, breath by breath, her head cleared. She sat up and stared back at the circle. Whatever
it was, it was dangerous—perhaps the most dangerous thing Aurya had ever encountered. Somehow, she had to get Giraldus and
the men out before the circle claimed all of their life force.

Aurya felt stronger with each passing second. Finally, she felt ready to brave the circle again. She took a deep breath, steeling
herself, and headed for Giraldus.

It took her three tries, three times of entering the circle again and dragging him for as long as she dared, only to have
to leave him while she staggered back out and away until her strength returned.

Giraldus breathed easier once he was also out in the open, but he did not revive. Aurya was going to have to do this on her
own. Any thought of ambushing The Others was abandoned in favor of keeping her own party alive.

But as she entered the circle a fourth time, to grab the ankles of the next man and begin pulling him to safety, Aurya vowed
to discover the nature of this place. Once she was Queen, she would find its creators and make them pay. Above all, she vowed
to see this circle destroyed—by her own hand and by her own magic. If there were
more such places in Aghamore, she would destroy them as well.

L
ysandra and the others walked all through the night and into the day. Stops were brief and never long enough. Conversation
became a thing of the past as all their concentration became focused on putting one foot in front of the other long after
their bodies were crying out for sleep.

Finally, pursued or not, they could go no farther. They had made good progress and were well into the boglands; if they could
maintain this pace, they were certain to reach the boats near dawn the next day. But without rest, they would go nowhere.

The stones of Rathreagh served them well, and they found a place to camp where one huge monolith had fallen and lay at an
angle on top of another. It provided them with the shade Talog needed, and underneath the stone roof, the ground was firm
and dry.

Once camp was made, Lysandra sent her
Sight
back along the path they had just traveled. This ability was becoming stronger each time she used it.

“What do you see?” Renan asked her softly.

Lysandra shook her head. “Nothing,” she said. “But I don’t know if they’re not there—or if I just can’t
see
them. My
Sight
has never worked like this before,” she added softly, for his ears alone. “It’s changed. Everything has changed since Selia’s
mind touched mine. I don’t understand it all yet, but I think that part of what she does, part of what she
is
, is to awaken what lies dormant in others.”