Mystic and Rider (Twelve Houses) (53 page)

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Authors: Sharon Shinn

BOOK: Mystic and Rider (Twelve Houses)
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“Sooner than Lochau, I hope,” Cammon said, and Kirra threw a half-eaten crust of bread at him. Senneth grinned, slung all the containers over her shoulder, and hiked down a sloping hill. Within five minutes, she disappeared behind a small stand of trees that had grown up by the pond or stream or whatever water source she’d found.
Donnal’s head lifted, and his whole body stiffened, then he bounded off after some prey invisible to the rest of them. Kirra watched him for a moment, then sighed. “Guess we won’t have to feed
him
lunch,” she said, and began digging through one of her packs for food.
“So he really eats raw meat when he’s in animal form?” Justin asked, sounding as if he was fighting not to gag.
She nodded. “So do I. It’s quite handy when civilized food is scarce and you find yourself hungry.”
“But then—when you change back—and it’s in your stomach—”
She looked up, grinning. “Speaking for myself, I take care not to change back till I’ve completed my digestion.”
“Do you ever think you might forget how to change back?” Tayse asked. “If you’ve stayed in animal shape too long?”
She seemed to be thinking it over. “I tend not to hold a shape more than a few days, so I never forget who I really am. But Donnal—it’s occurred to me once or twice he might spend a whole season with the wolves or the falcons, and lose the memory of his true self. I’ve seen him come back sometimes with such a strange look in his eyes—” She shook her head. “He’s wilder than I am, that’s for certain.”
“I’d like to spend a season with the wolves,” Cammon said wistfully. “What a strange and wonderful time that would be!”
Kirra laughed. “Well, we’ll take you to Ghosenhall and you can spend a season with the human predators at court,” she said in a comforting voice. “You’ll find that a strange but not so wonderful experience, I think.”
Justin sat on a fallen log, rested an elbow on his knee, and planted his chin on his fist. “What exactly
are
we going to do with Cammon when this adventure is done?” he asked.
“I want to stay with all of you,” the boy answered quickly.
Justin shook his head. “‘All of us’ won’t be staying together,” he said. “Tayse and I will be back with the Riders till we’re sent off on some other mission. Kirra and Donnal will go back to Danalustrous. Senneth—well, who knows what Senneth will do next?”
“You might sign up to train with the King’s Guard,” Tayse suggested, since Cammon looked so forlorn. “Justin and I would vouch for you. You’re not good enough to be a Rider, but you’ll make a decent soldier with a little more work.”
“Or come back with me to my father’s estate,” Kirra said. “We’d find a place for you somewhere.”
Cammon sighed. “Senneth thinks I should find another mystic and learn to handle my magic,” he said. “But I just—I didn’t think—it will be so strange not to be with all of
you.
”
“Well, if you’re in Ghosenhall, Tayse and I will be nearby,” Justin said in a bracing voice. “We’ll take you out to taverns now and then and teach you how to brawl. And consort with women.”
“I’m sure you know how to brawl, but I wouldn’t want Cammon to learn about women from you,” Kirra said.
Justin was grinning. Tayse knew he was only teasing Kirra; Justin had no taste for brothels. “
You’ve
already taught him what he needs to know about consorting with ladies,” Justin said. “Now it’s our turn to teach him something a little more useful in general life.”
“I don’t think—” Cammon started to say, and then he stopped, a look of uncertainty crossing his face.
Kirra was addressing Justin. “The things that you consider useful—” but Tayse flung up a hand.
“Be quiet,” he said, watching Cammon. “What is it? What are you listening to?”
Cammon shook his head, his face creased in puzzlement. “It’s like—but I can’t tell—I think—”
“Here’s Donnal,” Kirra said in a strained voice, and Tayse glanced over his shoulder to see Donnal racing up, sleek and low to the ground.
“Cammon,” Tayse said. “What’s—”
And just then Cammon screamed.
“Senneth!”
CHAPTER 28
 
“
S
ENNETH!” Cammon cried again. “She’s been hurt—Tayse, Justin, I think she’s been—there must be soldiers, I think someone’s put an arrow through her—she’s in agony—”
Tayse only heard a few of Cammon’s words. He had flung himself on his horse after the first broken phrases and pelted at a dead run down to the stand of trees where Senneth had gone to look for water. Behind him, he could hear the sound of Justin leaping onto his own mount and following him closely down the incline. A streak of black vaulted past him—Donnal. A streak of gold—Kirra. He was only seconds behind them as the four of them plunged into the scraggly wood.
Instantly, they were in the midst of a white-hot battle. Tayse had time to register very little except the black and silver of their livery before he was set upon by two soldiers wielding determined swords. His own weapons were out; the roar of rage in his ears almost drowned the metallic clamor of blade against blade, the grunts and screams and curses that were part of combat. He was aware only of the bodies around him—Justin beside him, swinging his sword in a berserker frenzy, the convent guards arrayed against them, falling back a pace or two at the maniacal energy of the Riders.
He did not see Senneth. Where was Senneth?
A black wolf sailed through the air and knocked a soldier from his saddle. The cry of terror and pain was truly horrifying, but abruptly silenced. Tayse thrust his sword straight through the heart of a soldier attacking him, yanked the blade free, and twisted in his saddle to meet another assault.
He saw the wolf strike again, heard another heart-stopping yell. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a mountain lion make a sinuous leap from the ground to horseback, and literally claw a man to death. The big cat leapt straight from this kill to land on the back of another soldier, raking her bloody paws down the side of his face while he tried frantically to wheel in his saddle and defend himself. No time to watch the end of this contest—a sword was slamming through the air directly for Tayse’s head. He lifted his own blade and felt the impact all the way down his shoulders and ribs into his hip.
He slid his sword free, parried the man’s next thrust, and lunged forward in the saddle. His opponent fell to the ground, sliced in half.
Where was Senneth? Pale Lady, Bright Mother, Dark Watcher, any god who might be listening,
where was Senneth?
A break in the action gave him a chance to look wildly around, but he still could not spot Senneth anywhere in the woods or near the water. At least eight bodies lay on the ground, all dressed in black and silver, all covered with copious amounts of blood. Justin was still battling with one of Coralinda’s soldiers, but it was clear who was going to win that fight, and quickly. Donnal and Kirra were circling another soldier, who had apparently been knocked from the saddle but managed to scramble to his feet. He crouched before them, waving his knife and looking desperately afraid. Another contest that was already effectively decided. Tayse wrenched his eyes away.
His attention was caught by motion through the trees, maybe twenty yards distant: a soldier bent over the saddle, racing back up the road toward the convent. “Kirra!” he shouted, and her golden head snapped around—but there was no need for her to go hunting this particular prey. Even as Tayse watched, there was a sublimely beautiful explosion of red as the raelynx leapt through the air and tore the soldier from the horse. Man and beast somersaulted in a tangled curl onto the road and disappeared from view.
Tayse did not wonder who would survive that encounter, either.
His eyes darted around the small plot of trees, looking for more attackers, bracing himself for the next round of trouble. But there appeared to be none immediately lurking. Justin was pulling his blade from the breast of the last soldier he’d faced; Donnal was glancing up from the mangled throat of his own final victim. Kirra stood there in human form, wiping the blood from her mouth with the sleeve of her filthy shirt.
“Where’s Senneth?” Tayse demanded. “Do you see her?”
Kirra shook her head, and her eyes were as wide and as frightened as Tayse thought his own must be. “No—I think—she might have turned herself invisible as soon as the arrow hit home. It had to be an arrow—a crossbow—they couldn’t possibly have gotten near enough to harm her with swords.”
Tayse slid from his horse’s back, a terrible fear rising up in his chest, pressing against his constricted ribs, making his muscles loose and unhelpful. “Then she—somewhere here on the ground—if I have to crawl on my hands and knees and cover every square inch—”
Kirra shook her head. “Donnal,” she said and he trotted over. “Where’s Senneth? Can you find her?”
But when Donnal’s head swung over to sniff the breeze, it was clear his tracking skills would not be needed. They all followed his yellow gaze down to the side of the stream, where Cammon knelt beside a patch of winter grass and appeared to be trying to resuscitate formless air.
“He can see her,” Kirra whispered, her hand to her throat.
“We will all need to be able to see her,” Tayse said, striding forward, “if we are to save her.”
The other three hurried after him, though Donnal made it to Cammon’s side the quickest. Kirra pushed the wolf away and knelt beside Cammon, her hands shaping themselves over an unseen body. Tayse could hear Cammon’s voice, low and anxious.
“The arrow went straight through. I’ve done what I can to stanch the bleeding, but I’m not sure she’s conscious. Can you help her?”
“Cammon—I can’t see her,” Kirra said, her voice strained. “Can you—what can you do? Can you reach into her mind? Make her respond to you? I have to bind her wounds, but I can’t
see
her—”
Justin and Tayse hovered one step back, staring down at nothing, at Kirra’s hands patting the invisible, unconscious figure. Tayse had never felt so cold in his life, and he didn’t think it was just fear. He suspected he had grown so used to the waves of heat pouring from Senneth’s body that when that heat was shut down, he felt the loss all the way through to his bones.
Cammon leaned forward and appeared to be whispering to a rock on the ground. Justin crowded closer to Tayse. “Do you think we can move her?” the younger Rider asked.
Kirra looked up, her face exceptionally grim. “No,” she said. “I think we have to build the camp around her body.”
Tayse nodded. “What can we do?”
“At the moment, nothing. Except fetch my packs and build a fire. The biggest fire you can keep going through the night.”
Justin glanced around. The stream was at the bottom of a small hill, the woods to one side of it, open land in three directions. It was clear what he was thinking: This was not an ideal site to set up camp. Then there were all the bodies nearby, sure to attract predators, sure to begin giving off an unpleasant odor within a very short period of time.
“We’re not very protected here,” Tayse said. “In case more of them come.”
“We’ll just have to set up better guards,” Kirra said.
Tayse was gazing down at Cammon, still appearing to murmur to the earth. “We’ve grown too accustomed to relying on heightened senses,” he said. “We’ve grown careless.”
“I wonder why he didn’t know those soldiers were coming,” Justin said. None of them asked Cammon, not wanting to distract him from the more critical task at hand. “He’s picked up riders from much farther away than that.”
Kirra glanced up swiftly. “They were wearing moonstone clips on their hats,” she said. “At least, the ones I killed were. Probably something to do with the moonstones so close to their heads—Cammon couldn’t sense what they were thinking.” She looked back down at where Senneth should be. “I don’t know. I’m just guessing.”
Tayse spared an instant to marvel at how flatly she referred to the men she had killed. Not the sort of cold unsentimentality you would expect from a serramerra of the Twelve Houses. But she had not flinched. If a fresh hazard pounded up from around the bend right now, she would take animal shape and fight again. He was fairly certain Kirra was sophisticated enough to realize that a death she caused while in lion shape was still a death at her hands. He was fairly certain she felt not the slightest remorse.

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