A Tapestry of Spells (32 page)

“I should have asked your grandfather to look at this before we left this morning,” she said, “though it is better than it was, somehow. Perhaps there is healing in the woods.”

“I daresay there is. And I’ll admit I’m loath to leave these woods, as well. There is something here that is very ... safe.”

“That’s the other thing the trees do,” she said before she thought better of it. “They watch. But the trees down there don’t.” She nodded down toward the path they had yet to ride. “At least the ones at the feet of the mountain don’t.”

“Sarah, what else do you see?” he asked with an uncomfortable laugh.

She shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. Magic, mostly.” She swallowed less comfortably than she would have liked. “I never saw anything in Doìre. I don’t know what’s happening to me.” She paused. “I thought there for a bit that I was losing my mind.”

“I don’t think so.” He looked up at the sky for a moment or two, then at her. “There was—
is
, rather—something less than wholesome about Shettlestoune as a whole and Doire in particular. Something that deadens sight and causes spells to go awry.”

“Do you think so?” she asked in surprise.

“I wouldn’t know, but I’ve heard as much,” he said. “But I don’t think the same holds true here until we reach those unhelpful trees you spoke of. I suppose then I’ll have to be the one to keep us safe.” He took a deep breath. “Shall we go?”

She nodded, though it was a reluctant nod. She had one last look at the lake behind her, saw a flash of sunlight on a ripple, then turned away. She wanted to believe she would see it again, find herself in a place halfway as lovely, but she wasn’t sure she would manage it.

But she would hope for it just the same.

 

I
t took a day of hard riding to catch up to the company, and half a se’nnight later as she walked along behind them, she wished it had taken much longer. Whatever peace she had found on Lake Cladach had been replaced with nagging worries that seemed to affect Ruith just as greatly. They saw no sign of Daniel, but that was no guarantee that he wasn’t stirring up trouble somewhere.

It came to the point where Ruith’s mutterings under his breath began to vex not only her but the rest of them as well. He finally shot her a meaningful look, then announced that he was going to ride ahead and see how the road looked. Even Oban, who seemed less eager than she to be without him, had shooed him on freely.

That had been earlier that morning. Now she studied her knife as she walked, trying to decipher the runes etched into the blade and wrapped around the hilt. She had little success, though she couldn’t deny that they gave her a certain measure of security if only because they had already proven themselves in battle. She would have felt better if Ruith had been walking next to her with his own selection of sharp things, but since he wasn’t, she would just take what comfort her blades gave her and make do.

At least she hadn’t seen anything more of the trolls—yet. She hadn’t wanted to ask Sgath about them for it seemed an invasion of the purity of his home, but now she had no choice but to face the possibility of seeing them again. She also wondered, when she could bear to, what mischief Daniel was combining. Ruith was convinced he would hunt for more of the pages of that book, but where those were to be found, neither of them knew. She suspected Ruith had an idea, though, for he often spoke with Master Franciscus about forks in the roads they came to periodically. Ever he chose the right-hand one, the one that kept close to the feet of the mountains and led north.

She woke with a start, realizing that she had dozed off as she walked. And in that moment of sudden waking, three things became terribly clear.

Dusk had fallen.

Second, she had fallen far behind the company and neither she nor the rest of them had noticed.

And lastly, she was standing in front of her brother.

His spell slammed into her before she could blurt out the slightest protest. She had no idea what sort of spell it was, but it rendered her blind. She supposed she should have been grateful for that. At least she could only see but a shadow of her brother standing in front of her. She couldn’t imagine she wanted to see his face.

“What are you doing following me?” he spat.

“I wouldn’t waste my time with—She gasped as the ground came up to meet her, hard. Darkness fell around her, a darkness so thick she couldn’t breathe.

He cursed her. She knew he was pacing back and forth next to her, snarling, as if he could find no other way to express his anger.

“If you had any magic,” he spat, “I would take it.”

“I know,” she managed.

He stopped suddenly. “You do? Well, of course you do if you’ve been following me. And I’ve only begun my work.”

“I believe that.”

The darkness receded just the slightest bit. She breathed very carefully. She might have had no magic, but she was very skilled in the art of keeping the focus off herself and onto someone else. She wouldn’t lie, but she would deflect until she could deflect no more.

Daniel hadn’t moved. “Why are you following me?”

“I wanted to stop you,” she said, “but I couldn’t find a mage to do so.”

“And what of this company of fools?”

“They’re traveling with Master Franciscus on his journey north.” That was the truth. Franciscus was heading north and the others were traveling with him. Whatever else they were doing was none of Daniel’s business.

“And what of the tall one? The one with all the weapons?”

“My guardsman,” she said, before she thought better of it.

Daniel laughed heartily. “Is that what he is? You’ll need him, though I imagine he won’t be able to save you from what I’ll unleash.”

“Please don’t tell me—”

“I will,” Daniel said, beginning to pace again, “because I
want
you to know what I’m going to do, so you can watch it unfold.”

Sarah remained silent. If she could encourage the fool to go on, so much the better.

“You won’t know anything of these names, being the uneducated country wench that you are, but there are in the world only three black mages of note, and I intend to surpass them all.”

“Do you?” Sarah asked, then winced as the darkness increased suddenly. It was as if she were being crushed under a wagonload of rocks. “I mean, of course you do,” she gasped. “Of course.”

The darkness eased slightly.

“There is a place of power,” Daniel said contemptuously, “one hidden from all but the most skilled. I was there before, in the winter, but I didn’t have the right spell to take what I needed. I won’t make that mistake again.”

Sarah imagined he wouldn’t.

“Breathe comfortably for a few more days, sister,” he said, leaning over her. “Breathe and dream. Once I have what I want, you won’t be able to do either very pleasantly. Here, let me give you a taste of it now.”

Sarah fell headfirst into darkness and knew no more.

 

S
he dreamt.

 

S
arah woke to find someone shaking her. She looked up and found Ruith there, kneeling over her, shaking her and calling her name. He was breathing heavily.

“What?” she asked, blinking.

“I heard you calling me,” he said, panting.

“She didn’t say aught,” Ned said, leaning over Ruith’s shoulder.

Sarah saw the look Ruith sent Ned’s way, which had him scampering off abruptly, then searched his face for some of what she’d seen.

“I couldn’t catch you,” she said. “I tried.”

He smiled reassuringly. “It was a nightmare, Sarah. You fell behind, fainted, and dreamt. Perhaps the rain overcame you.”

She nodded, because she didn’t want to tell him the truth with an audience there. Ruith pulled her up to her feet, sent the rest of the company off with reassuring words, then put his arm around her shoulders and walked with her in the opposite direction.

“I heard you screaming, even if no one else did,” he said in a low voice. “What befell you?”

“My brother.”

Ruith stopped still and gaped. “Impossible.”

She shook her head. “He cast some species of vile spell upon me and I fell. That was when I began to dream.”

“Do you feel him nearby any longer?”

“How would I know?” she asked crossly. She rubbed her eyes suddenly. “Forgive me. Nay, I do not feel him nearby, but I’ve no gift for that sort of thing.” She paused. “I don’t suppose you can feel him.”

He shook his head slowly.

“Do you think we should look for someone who can?”

He sighed and dragged his free hand through his hair. “I’ve considered it, but I have my reasons for not wanting to.” He looked off into the setting sun for a moment or two, then turned her around and started back toward the wagon. “I’ll tell you of them when the others are asleep.”

She nodded and continued on with him. He didn’t take his arm away and she didn’t ask him to. She was actually quite happy for the protection.

Two hours later, she was sitting on the back of Franciscus’s wagon, watching Ruith repair the fletching of one of his arrows. She wondered about him, where he’d learned to do that, why he had found himself leagues away in that horribly intimidating house when he could have just as easily been living with his grandfather on that glorious lake behind her. It couldn’t have been that they didn’t want him. Sgath hadn’t seemed angry with Ruith. On the contrary, he had seemed overjoyed to see him, as if he’d thought he’d lost him and been thrilled to have him back.

Very strange.

“Are you going to tell me now why we don’t find a mage who can take us to Daniel immediately?” she asked.

He looked at her briefly, rose from where he’d been sitting, and put his arrows into their quiver and the quiver into the wagon. The sword and the knives he generally wore strapped to his back joined the blade there. He walked over and leaned against the side of the wagon where he could speak softly and be heard.

“Because I think he knows things that might be useful if he’s left to investigate them.”

“What sorts of things?” she asked in astonishment.

He shrugged. “Where to find more pages of that book, perhaps.”

“Gair of Ceangail’s book?” she managed, her mouth suddenly quite dry.

“Aye,” he said very quietly. “Gair of Ceangail’s book.”

“What a horrible man,” she said without hesitation. “Horrible and evil. Why did he ever write that accursed book?”

Ruith shrugged. “I don’t know that anyone will ever know the true reasons, though I suspect Connail had that aright, at least. It was to flatter his enormous ego, to show the world that no one else could work magic in quite the way he could.”

“But surely he had to suspect those spells might fall into someone else’s hands.”

“Aye, but who would have the power to use those spells successfully? Gair was a thousand years old before he wed Sarait of Torr Dòrainn, fathered his children, then slew them all, the poor wretches. His power was immense, his arrogance boundless. There are others alive who might match him in both, but I imagine they’re wrapped up in their own egos and have no time for traipsing about the countryside, looking for spells they perhaps wouldn’t be able to manage.”