Straken

Fourteen

It was like flying into a hornet’s nest.

Swift Suredescended in a long, slow spiral, drawing the attention of the band of Urdas below. Bek had hoped that their appearance alone would prove startling enough to these superstitious people to make them withdraw. But instead of bolting back into the trees and seeking cover, the Urdas immediately turned their weapons on the airship. Trefen Morys barely had time to shout a warning from the bow when a hail of spears and darts struck the underside of the vessel and a wash of arrows arced over the railing in a deadly sweep.

Everyone ducked behind the protective railings as Bek tookSwift Sure back up again, out of reach of the attack. As he did so, Trefen Morys came running back.

« There are Rock Trolls down there in that tower!» he shouted up to Pen. «They were waving to us for help!»

Bek turned to Rue. «Load both the port and starboard rail slings. Maybe we can drive the Urdas far enough back into the trees to gain space to get a ladder down.»

The starboard rail sling was still in place from their flight out of Paranor, and with help from Trefen Morys it took Rue only minutes to set up the port weapon and arm them both. Placing the young Druid on the former and herself on the latter, she sent Bellizen amidships to stand ready to lower the rope ladder, then signaled for Bek to takeSwift Sure down again.

It was trickier going in the second time. The Urdas were waiting, neither awed nor frightened of the airship. Even from high up, Bek could tell that they were aggressively hostile. Whatever had incensed them had stirred their anger to such intensity that they were beyond caring what happened to them so long as they stopped any rescue attempt. They were clustered at every quarter of the tower walls, and as soon asSwift Sure came within range, they attacked. Bek kept his hold on the airship steady to give Rue and Trefen Morys a chance to chase them off, but even after both rail slings were emptied twice into the attackers, they held their ground, refusing to fall back. Gnarled, hairy forms swarmed through the wooded ravines, keeping the tower and its occupants besieged.

Bek took the airship out of range once more, trying to think what else they might try.

Rue returned from the railing and climbed into the pilot box. «Our weapons aren’t going to work, Bek. If we want to get those Rock Trolls out of that tower, we have to take a different approach.»

She leaned close so that only he could hear. «Could you use the wishsong to help?»

He stared at her in surprise. She hated his magic, hated the legacy that went with it—so much so that he had barely used it since coming back from Parkasia. The search for their son had marked his first serious attempt in several years. In truth, he wasn’t even sure he knew after so long how to employ it in the way that would be necessary.

« I understand,” she said, reading the look on his face. «But we don’t have any choice.»

She was saying that if they wanted to help Pen, this was what it was going to take. The wind shifted and blew across his face, unexpectedly chill and biting as it came down off the mountains. He held her gaze a moment longer, then nodded. «Take the helm.»

He went down on deck to where the young Druids stood waiting and motioned them over to the rope ladder so that both could help with the rescue effort. Then he moved forward to the bow and looked down.

Urdas swarmed through the trees below, too many to count. Rue was right. Even a dozen rail slings wouldn’t be enough to chase them off. A more effective weapon was needed, and there was nothing more effective than the wishsong when it was used in the right way. Grianne had taught him so years ago when she had tried to kill him. He thought it ironic that he would use that lesson now to try to save her.

« Take us back down!» he shouted to Rue, a sudden gust of wind nearly obscuring his words. It was heavy enough that it shook the airship from bow to stern. «Slowly!»

He glanced north to where huge storm clouds were beginning to build on the horizon, sifting down through the peaks toward the Inkrim. A change in the weather was coming, and it did not favor their efforts. If they failed to get a ladder down soon, given the nature of storms in that region, it might not be possible to try again for days.

He looked down again at the Urdas, trying to think how to force them to move back from the walls of the tower. He could do some things safely with the wishsong, but he did not want to risk trying too much after so many years of no practice. The magic was powerful and at times unpredictable. Using it the wrong way could prove disastrous. If it failed to respond as intended, it might send them all crashing down with the airship.

The wind gusted across his face again, and suddenly he remembered that the Druids favored using the elements as allies in their wielding of magic. Perhaps he could do the same here.

He brought up the wishsong in a soft hum, calling it to life, feeling it come awake and then flood through him with a slow, rising heat. He kept his gaze fixed on the scene below as he began to give the magic a shape and a form, a sense and a purpose. He found the wind currents that preceded the coming storm and stirred in the magic. The currents gained force and consistency, and as they gusted about him they began to take on a new intensity. What had begun as a series of uneven bursts now became a steady blow. Changes of pitch evened and slowly built into a howl that suggested the cresting of a tidal wave.

The Urdas began looking around in confusion and then in fear. A storm of that kind wasn’t something they understood. They were unfamiliar with winds of such magnitude. They crouched lower, and then began to back away from the tower toward the deep woods, their superstitious nature warning them that the elements were spirit–driven.

Bek built on the power of his magic, adding fresh layers, giving the wind an extraordinary sound and feel, a roar that began to shake trees and earth alike. He did not look back at Rue, trusting her to continue Swijt Sure’s descent, to understand what he was doing and not be frightened by it. He didn’t know what the Druids were thinking, but he couldn’t spare time to worry about them. He had the wind tearing across the landscape by then, scattering the Urdas in all directions, their determination to stand fast shattered.

Then the treetops were right below them, and the outer walls of the tower became visible through the gaps. He risked a quick glance back at Trefen Morys and Bellizen and saw them dropping the rope ladder over the side of the railing, down to the besieged Trolls. Almost immediately bulky forms began to emerge, scrambling from their concealment, some helping others, all of them moving swiftly for the ladder. But then they ducked back again, unable to advance. Bek felt his strength beginning to fail, and forced himself to push harder to keep the wind in place. The Trolls had still not begun to climb the ladder, and the Urdas were beginning to reemerge from the trees. Rue was yelling something at him, but he couldn’t hear what. He intensified the magic once more, feeling his hold on it slipping away.

Then Bellizen was beside him, frantic. «Your magic is too strong, Bek! The force of the wind is keeping the Trolls from climbing the ladder!»

He realized it was true, that his efforts at keeping the Urdas at bay were keeping the Trolls pinned down, as well. Rue must have been trying to tell him as much. He slowed his efforts, letting the wind diminish. Within the ruins of the tower, the Trolls recognized their opportunity and scrambled for the ladder. The Urdas, in response, rushed to stop them.

There was nothing more Bek could do to help. Any further use of the magic to intensify the wind would do as much damage as good. The Trolls would have to make it on their own. He kept the wind in place a few moments longer, tuning its sound to an earsplitting shriek in an effort to frighten the Urdas. But the

Inkrim natives were no longer intimidated, having seen what was happening and become newly enraged at the thought of losing the intruders to an airship rescue. They came at the Trolls in waves, weapons loosing, the air filling with missiles. Two of the Trolls were struck, and one fell to his death. The others pressed on, climbing steadily through the hail of fire, helping each other as they did so. One of them, he saw, carried a smaller figure tucked under one arm, a squat blocky form that could only be a Dwarf.

Then the Trolls were over the side of the railing and on board the ship, and Rue was lifting away, taking them quickly out of range of their attackers. Bek broke off his efforts with the wishsong, now thoroughly spent, and hurried over to the newcomers. Seven Trolls and a Dwarf, he saw. The Dwarf wrestled free of the Troll who was carrying him and stood clinging to the rail, breathing hard.

« Tagwen?» Bek asked, coming up to him.

Tagwen looked over, his face ashen and his mouth a tight line. There was blood on his neck and right arm from wounds, and his clothing was torn and soiled.

He blinked rapidly at Bek. «I don’t ever want to come to this place again!» he snapped. «Not ever!»

Then he fainted.

Ihere was no time for an exchange of information or for anything but making a quick escape from the fast–approaching storm. If it caught up with them over the Inkrim, their efforts to get free of the Urdas might come to nothing. With Bek at the helm, Rue and Trefen Morys worked the draws and light sheaths by hand to gain speed and maneuverability, heading south and west toward the relative safety of the mountain peaks below the clouds and winds building north.Swift Sure skated hard across the long stretch of the valley, buffeted and tossed as storm winds gusted ahead of rain and dark skies. Lightning began to flash in the heart of the encroaching dark, and thunder rumbled ominously across the heavens in long, crackling peals.

On the decks below the pilothouse, Bellizen worked on the injured Rock Trolls. Two of them were badly hurt, wounded by Urda weapons. According to Kermadec, who had managed to say a few words to Bek beforeSwift Sure set sail, his little company had tried to slip past the Urdas during the night, convinced that any attempt at fighting to get free was useless. By then, Pen had been gone for almost a day, and they were desperate to find a way to help him. But the Urdas, furious at what they perceived to be a deliberate violation of sacred ground, had been keeping close watch on the intruders and had no intention of letting them escape. They reacted swiftly to the attempt, catching them out in the open and killing two outright. The surviving Trolls and Tagwen had fled into the tower, where they had remained, trapped and under attack.

Rain struck Swift Sure a broadside blow that sent her scudding sideways across the roof of the forest. Bek righted her quickly, trying not to think about Pen and what had happened in the ruins days earlier, concentrating instead on getting them across the valley to the relative safety of the mountains. Inside the peaks, they could find protection from the storm and cross into the valleys beyond. But the rain descended in torrents, inundating the decks and those clustered on them, leaving the entire ship sodden and dripping. Visibility was dropping fast, and Bek turned the ship farther south in an effort to run before the storm and remain clear of its impenetrable shroud of rain and mist.

Then lightning struck the mainmast, dancing down its length and along the conductors to the hull, sparking and flashing in the near dark. The Trolls flattened themselves against the deck until Bellizen signaled for help to get the injured below. Staggering across the slick wood with their burdens, the Trolls did as she asked, and soon everyone had disappeared below, leaving Bek, Rue, and Trefen Morys to sail the airship.

They were flying dangerously low, trying to slip the stronger winds at the higher elevations. But radian draws, stays, and sails were all giving way, tearing loose or shredding, slowing erodingSwift Sun’s maneuverability. Bek held the airship as steady as he could, relying on the power stored in the diapson crystals to keep her flying. When that was gone, they were finished. He could make out gaps in the mountain peaks ahead, dark passages to the valleys beyond, and he pointed toward them as the storm closed about.

The winds howled like a living thing. They slammed into SwiftSure with devastating impact, knocking her off course, forcing Bek to wrestle her back into line again. Rain descended in sheets, and visibility dropped to nothing. Even the dark gaps for which they were headed began to fade. The storm was sweeping the whole of the Inkrim now, a great roiling mass of wind, rain, and darkness.

Then abruptly the mountains ahead disappeared and the gaps toward whichSwift Sure had been heading were gone.

We’re not going to make it,Bek thought.

For heart–stopping minutes, they hung suspended in a gray, fathomless void, directionless and lost.

Then the curtain of rain lifted and the rock walls loomed out of the rain–soaked darkness once more, massive slabs of stone lifting thousands of feet into the mists. Bek caught sight of a gap between them and bankedSwift Sure sharply toward its dark maw.

Seconds later, they were inside a craggy split that was as dark and still and windless as a subterranean passage.

« Savages!»

Atalan spit the word out as if to rid himself of its bitter taste. It was a word he had used three times in the last two sentences by Bek’s reckoning. Apparently the bitterness had a tendency to linger.

« Killed four of us for no better reason than to punish us for coming into those ruins! A place of dead things! Nothing there but bones and rubble and monsters like that tree!» His blunt Troll features were unreadable, but his eyes were fierce. «We should come back here with the rest of our people and wipe them out!»

He was incensed, even now, hours later. They were seated at the bow—Atalan, Kermadec, Tagwen, the young Druids, Rue, and Bek. They made an odd–looking group. The Trolls were giants with skins of bark and flat, virtually featureless faces. The Druids were much smaller and impossibly young. The Dwarf was squat and solid, his thick beard like a mask. And Bek and Rue, fatigued and weak from the wounds they had received during their flight out of Paranor, had the look of the walking dead.Swift Sure hung anchored above a valley floor somewhere deep within the Klu, west almost to the Charnals. The Inkrim and the storm had been left behind. It was nightfall, and the Trolls who had been wounded were sleeping below. Everyone was exhausted.

Kermadec shifted his large frame and leaned back against the ship’s railing. His rough face was impassive, his voice calm. «Let it be, Atalan.» He nodded at Bek and Rue. «So young Penderrin has found a way into the Forbidding, after all. Your son is nothing if not resourceful. He has kept his wits about him.»

« He has his wits, but does he have the use of magic, as well?» Rue asked, reminded suddenly of what Bek had revealed of the traces of her son’s passage.

Kermadec shrugged. «He has some. He has that ability to read the responses of living things. He can discern their thinking from that. Like the lichen. Like that moor cat.» He glanced at Tagwen. «It’s a magic I wouldn’t mind having, Bristle Beard.»

« He said it was a small magic,” the Dwarf muttered. He scowled at Kermadec. «Having seen nothing to suggest otherwise, I am inclined to take him at his word. Penderrin is not given to exaggeration.»

Tagwen had recovered from his faint, though he was still embarrassed about the collapse. Kermadec had spent a long time reassuring the Dwarf that it had nothing to do with his courage, but was a result of exhaustion and stress. Anyone might have suffered the same indignity, and it would not be mentioned again. Tagwen, however, did not appear convinced.

« There is the magic he generated during his encounter with the tanequil, as well,” Trefen Morys pointed out. «To create a talisman of such power, a tremendous amount of magic would have to be released. Even if it didn’t come from Pen, traces of it would cling to him. And he carries the darkwand with him. Any reading of magic attached to Pen would be influenced by that.»

It was a reasonable explanation, and even Rue seemed to accept it. Only Bek knew that the reasoning was wrong. The readings given him by the wishsong had told him that the traces of his son’s passage encompassed only magic that belonged to him. The blood connection between father and son was too strong for him to be mistaken. Pen had uncovered a form of magic that was still a mystery, possibly even to himself.

« I am very sorry to hear that Ahren Elessedil is dead,” he said to Tagwen, changing the subject.

The Dwarf looked down at his hands and shook his shaggy head slowly. «He was a brave man, Bek Ohmsford. He gave his life so that the rest of us could go on. We would not have reached Kermadec and Taupo Rough, let alone Stridegate and the tanequil, if not for him.»

« And the Elven girl is his niece?»

« Khyber Elessedil. Tough as old leather, that girl, though nearly as young as Penderrin. She has the Elfstones. Took them from the Elessedils and brought them to Ahren so that he would teach her how to use them. Turned out he had no choice. She used them in the Slags to sink theGalaphik, then again later to help us on our journey here. She had them with her when she disappeared in Stridegate.»

« But you think that she boarded one of the Druid airships that took Pen to Paranor?» Rue asked.

Tagwen looked at Kermadec and came to some unspoken agreement. «Something might have happened to her in the ruins after she left us and went in search of Penderrin, but I don’t think so,” the Dwarf declared. He looked up. «She was very close to the boy and determined to help him reach the Ard Rhys. I think she found a way, and that’s why he was able to get into the Forbidding after the Druids took him prisoner.»

« Well, the fact that the King of the Silver River told Bek in his dream that an Elven girl is one of the three who will help us reach Pen suggests you are right. But where is she now?»

« She must be at Paranor,” Kermadec answered with another shrug. «Waiting for us.»

« Then we must go there to help them,” Tagwen declared firmly. «It was the promise I made to young Penderrin before they took him, and I intend to fulfill it.»

« As do I,” Kermadec agreed.

« How, exactly, are you going to go about doing that?» Bellizen asked suddenly. Starlight reflected in her ink–black eyes. «Do you have a plan?»

Neither of them did, of course. No one did. There was a long silence as they pondered her question. They had been so consumed with reaching Paranor that none of them had given much thought to what they would do once they were there. It wasn’t at all clear, they realized as they reflected on the possibilities, what their course of action should be.

« What are we up against at Paranor?» Bek asked finally, looking from Bellizen to Trefen Morys. «How much support does my sister have?»

Trefen Morys shook his head. «Very little, I’m afraid. There are a handful of Druids who openly support her and will stand with her when she returns, but most have been dismissed from the order. Those who remain support Shadea. It isn’t that they believe so strongly in her, it’s more that they mistrust your sister. She has never been able to shed her image as the Ilse Witch, not entirely.»

« Some will stand with her when she returns,” Bellizen added. «But only some, and I do not think we can count their numbers with any degree of certainty. Some will stand with her because, like us, they believe in her. Some will stand with her because they have seen how badly Shadea a’Ru has dealt with her power. But most will take no stand at all.»

« That works both ways, of course,” Kermadec pointed out. «They do not choose to stand with her, but will not stand with Shadea, either. That gives us a chance.»

« Why do you support her?» Rue asked Bellizen, glancing at Trefen Morys, as well. «Why have you taken her side?»

Bellizen blushed. «It is not easy to explain. I do so in part because she was kind to me when others were not. She brought me to Paranor at the suggestion of another Druid, from a village in the Runne where my talents were considered abnormal and my safety threatened. I do not know how she found out about me, but she told me that I belonged with her. I believed that. She has never given me cause to think badly of her or to want her gone. I think she is the Ard Rhys we need. I think she understands the purposes of magic better than anyone.»

« I came from a village close to Bellizen’s,” Trefen Morys added. «We did not know each other before Paranor, but have become friends since. I came to Paranor on my own, seeking a chance to study with the Druids. My mistress gave me that chance. She gave me responsibilities and taught me herself on more than one occasion.»

« She is a great lady.» Bellizen bit her lip, glancing quickly at her companion. «Those who follow her are mostly younger and never knew her as the Ilse Witch. The others, the older ones, cannot seem to forget. They think of her still as a dark creature, capable of reverting without warning. They do not know her as Trefen and I do. They are less forgiving because their lives are too deeply rooted in the past.»

« They are not alone,” Bek said quietly. «Perhaps that is just the way of things.» He surveyed the faces of the others. «Very well. We know what we have to do. We have to find a way into the Keep and the sleeping chamber of the Ard Rhys. That is where Penderrin and Grianne will reappear when they return from the Forbidding.»

He almost added,if they can find a way back, but he caught himself just in time. Rue didn’t need to hear him saying anything about the odds. She understood them well enough.

« It is more complicated than that,” Trefen Morys interjected quickly. «We have to find a way to be inside the sleeping chamber at just the right time. We have to devise a way of knowing exactly when Pen and my mistress will reappear. If we don’t choose the right moment, Shadea and her allies will find us out.»

The little company went silent, dismayed at the prospect of being stopped after they had come so far and endured so much. But the task the young Druid had just described seemed impossible.

Bek turned to Tagwen. «The King of the Silver River said that the keys to helping Pen were in the hands of his companions— Kermadec, Khyber Elessedil, and yourself. Maybe we should start there. Can you think what he might have been talking about? Is there some special kind of help that you can give us?»

Tagwen considered the question. «Well, there is one possibility,” he said after a moment. «I know a way into Paranor using tunnels that run beneath the bluff to the furnace room and continue all through the walls of the Keep. The Ard Rhys showed them to me once, a maze of passages. She used magic to block those leading to her rooms, but perhaps your own magic can undo hers.»

« So we can reach the sleeping chamber unseen if I can remove my sister’s safeguards?» Bek asked.

The Dwarf nodded rather reluctantly. «Perhaps. If Shadea hasn’t discovered the tunnels as well and set traps of her own.»

« We’ll have to risk it,” Bek declared at once. «We’ve risked worse already to get where we are. Kermadec, what of you?»

The Rock Troll knotted his great hands and looked at Atalan. «Brother, I think the Trolls need to show the Four Lands where we stand in this business. Marching against the Urdas is a waste of time and purpose. We need to march on Paranor and the Druids instead. They attacked Taupo Rough and drove our people out. The attack was unprovoked. Dismissing the Troll guard while it was still in service to the Ard Rhys is insult enough, although we could have endured it. But attacking our home is beyond acceptable. Perhaps we should repay their visit with one of our own.»

Atalan’s response was a slow, wicked grin. «Let’s pull down the walls around their ears!»

« Or at least pull the wool over their eyes—a distraction to give you time to get into place.» Kermadec glanced at the others. «Several thousand Rock Trolls gathered at the gates will be something that not even the Druids can ignore. If we must, we will come through those gates to your aid, but at the very least we will keep those snakes pinned down within their own fortress for the time it takes for our mistress to deal with them as she chooses.»

« And deal with them she will, you may be sure,” Tagwen grunted, looking almost happy.

« That leaves Khyber Elessedil,” Bellizen said. «What of her?»

« Her purpose seems easier to divine,” Bek responded quickly. «She carries the Elf stones given her by Ahren Elessedil. They are seeking–stones, and I think finding the demon that has crossed over from the Forbidding will be our first order of business after my sister returns. The Elfstones will make that task much easier.»

He looked from face to face in the darkness. «We have at least the beginnings of a plan. I think that is the best we can hope for.»

« What I don’t understand,” Rue declared suddenly, «is why the King of the Silver River didn’t make this business of the keys and the companions clearer to you in your dream, Bek. He could have told you what purpose Kermadec and Tagwen and Khyber Elessedil were to serve. Why didn’t he do that?»

« Faerie creatures and shades are secretive and seldom speak the whole truth,” Bellizen ventured.

But Bek shook his head. «1 think it is something else. I think we were given a starting point, but nothing more. The future remains undecided. Things may change as events unfold, and we must be ready to change with them. If the King of the Silver River had told me in my dream exactly what the keys were, we might have become too reliant on his words. As it is, we remain uncertain that we have it right. He wants that. He wants us to find our own way. He wants us to understand that the way is not yet determined.»

There was a long silence as the others contemplated his words. They knew where they must go and what they must do, but they still did not know how they would accomplish it. The future was a mystery. It was the way the world had always worked. It was the way it would work here.

« We must leave at once,” Tagwen declared. «We have no idea how much time remains before the Ard Rhys and young Penderrin cross back.»

But Bek shook his head. «No, Tagwen, we need to rest first. We’ll stay where we are until dawn, sleep while we can, and fly north tomorrow to Kermadec’s people. Once the Trolls are safely delivered and can begin their preparations for a march on Paranor, the rest of us will go ahead to search for Khyber Elessedil.»

« And to discover when my mistress and your son will reappear within the Keep,” Bellizen added quietly.

It was a disturbing reminder of how difficult the days ahead were going to be.

One by one the members of the company rose and went off to sleep. Most had not slept in days and were exhausted. Bek was the exception. Better rested than the others, he went back up into the pilot box to keep watch.

He was surprised when he found that Rue was following him.

« You should go to sleep,” he said, turning back to stop her, reaching out to touch her cheek. «You’ve slept less than anyone.»

She nodded. «I’ll sleep soon enough. But I have to say something to you first. Whatever else happens, Bek, I intend to make certain that once Penderrin gets free of the Forbidding, he is kept safe. I intend to protect him from Shadea a’Ru and the rest of those monsters. I don’t care what it takes. I don’t even care what happens to me.»

She was almost in tears as she finished. He tried to hold her, but she pushed him away, refusing to be comforted, defiance on her features. «Promise me that you will do the same.»

« You know you don’t have to ask me this,” he said. «You know I feel the same way you do.»

Tight–lipped, she nodded. «I do know it. But I also know that your sister is involved, and that her interests may conflict with ours. Her plans for Pen may not be acceptable. So I need to hear you say it, just in case that happens. I need to hear you promise that if a choice is necessary, you will choose our son.»

A sadness inside left him hollow and sick at heart. He knew he would never be able to resolve his wife’s feelings—her mistrust and her suspicions—for his sister. He understood why, and he did not blame her. Had he been in her shoes, he would have felt the same.

He reached for her hands, and this time she did not back away. «I promise,” he said. «Nothing bad will happen to Pen. No chances will be taken with his safety. His needs come before those of Grianne and the Druid order.»

She came into his arms then, reaching to hold him close, her cheek placed against his, her mouth so close to his ear that he could hear her breathing.

« I’m sorry I had to ask that,” she whispered.

« Don’t be. Don’t be sorry for anything.»

« I wish Big Red were here.»

« I wish Quentin were here.»

But her brother was somewhere off the coast of the Blue Divide, flying his airship in service to whoever had paid him most recently, and Quentin Leah was dead two years, never fully recovered from the wounds he had received in Parkasia. Bek thought often of them both, and thinking of them made him wish he could turn time back far enough for them all to be together just once more. But life didn’t give you second chances at such things. Life just swept you along and never took you back to where you had been.

« It will be all right,” he whispered.

He had said that to her once before and had not been certain it was true. This time, for reasons he could not explain, he felt that it might be.