Reader and Raelynx (26 page)

Senneth spread her fingers as wide as they would go, extended her arms before her, and
pushed
. The whole long wall of fire crept slowly away from her, leaving a charred band of black in the grass. More cries and yelping on the other side as the attackers realized the conflagration was advancing. She heard a confusion of horse hooves retreating, more shouts, more cursing.

She took a long breath, gathered her strength, and pushed again.

Step by blazing step, she forced the opposing forces backward, till she was crunching through a broad swath of cinders as she crossed her own original line. Donnal gathered himself back into a bird shape and darted away to reconnoiter, returning a few minutes later to report.

“They’re spreading out in both directions,” he said. “Trying to find a way around the flame.”

Senneth nodded. She gathered her fingers into points and stretched her arms wide, extending the wall of fire another quarter mile on each side, another half mile. It was taking all her energy, all her strength, but she could enclose the entire Hall in a circle of flame if she had to. “Where are our reinforcements now?” she asked in a tight voice.

“Another half an hour away. The battle on the inside is nearly won—only a few attackers are still fighting for their lives.”

“Tell the others to gather at the edges of the fire and await any who try to break through.”

She could hear what was almost a smile in Donnal’s voice, though she couldn’t break her concentration enough to look at him. “Tayse has already organized them to do so. He wants to know how long you can hold the wall?”

“Till dawn, if necessary.”

“I don’t think the fight will last that long,” Donnal said. A rustle, a shadow; he had changed and flown away.

Senneth stood where he had left her, spine stretched up, head tipped back, arms still spread as wide as they would go, and fed her soul to the fire. She was alive with magic; a liquid fever careened through her veins. Her fingertips were candlewicks, and flames danced at the end of each one. Each individual strand of her hair was on fire; her eyebrows had been singed. There was nothing in the world except heat and energy and rage. Noises had fallen away, time had ceased to pass or matter. She was an elemental in a primitive state, and she could burn forever.

It was Tayse’s voice that brought her back to a sense of humanity, a sense of self. “Senneth,” he named her, his voice both compelling and soft. “Senneth. Drop your arms. Let the fire die. We have vanquished them. The Hall is safe.”

He said the whole speech three times before his words actually registered. Slowly she opened her eyes, tilted her head forward, allowed her arms to fall to her sides. Instantly, the fire went out. Just as instantly, she was flooded with a multitude of pains. Her back ached, her arms were sore, and Bright Mother of the burning sky, her head hurt so badly she thought it might shatter. She looked around in wonderment a moment, orienting herself. Still daylight, though the sun was low on the horizon. Before her, a scattering of charred and broken bodies littered the ground. Behind her, a grim and efficient cleanup was under way, as servants and soldiers moved through the dead and wounded, searching for friends, carrying away the bodies of enemy and comrade alike.

“What were our costs?” she asked in a hoarse voice.

“More than seventy dead. Mostly Danalustrous men, though a few Brassenthwaite soldiers fell in the defense. The assailants lost four times that number and eventually retreated. Some of Malcolm’s soldiers are pursuing.”

She put a shaky hand up to the back of her neck. Every small movement was agony. Her bones felt brittle and scored by heat. Surely someone had taken a chisel and hammered a thousand holes in her skull. “Who attacked? Could he tell?”

“It appears to be the work of three malcontent vassal lords who had been left out of the negotiations to inherit property outright.” He shrugged. “Now their sons and daughters will inherit nothing but shame.”

He took her arm and she leaned on him heavily as he escorted her back toward the manor house. So many bodies—such a dreadful sight on Malcolm Danalustrous’s well-manicured lawns. “Tell them,” she said. “If they gather up the bodies, I can make a pyre.”

“I think they can make a pyre of their own with more traditional methods,” he said firmly. “You need to rest. You look the color of ash—gray and white. And just as likely to disintegrate.”

“My head hurts,” she said.

“I’ll help you as soon as we get to the room.”

They came upon a pile of fallen bodies; no easy task to pick a way through. Tayse simply lifted Senneth up and carried her around them. She knew she should protest that she was perfectly fine, but she felt utterly dreadful. She leaned her head against his shoulder and listened to the rumble of his voice from deep in his chest. “Your brother is anxious to make sure all is well in Brassenthwaite. He plans to set out for home first thing in the morning.”

“We should leave for Ghosenhall tonight,” she muttered.

“We’ll leave in the morning,” he said. “If your headache is better.”

She wanted to lift a hand to rub her temple, but she couldn’t make the effort. “It’ll take us almost a week to get back.”

“We might be able to push that.”

“I wish we hadn’t come!”

They were almost at the broad, gracious front entrance of the manor, just now stained with blood and piled high with discarded weaponry. Tayse bent to kiss her gently on the forehead. “You saved the Hall,” he said. “They all might be dead if you had not been here.”

That silenced her for the whole trek through the foyer, up the stairs, and down the corridor to their room. There was no fire in the grate and the air was cool, for which Senneth was grateful. Her skin was still heated; her pulse was too high, too fast, too thick.

Tayse settled on the bed beside her, arranging her so that her back was to his chest but she was leaning away from him. On their very first journey together, he had learned the trick of chasing away her headaches. No one else had the physical strength or reach to command all the pressure points at once. Now, very gently, he placed the thumb of one hand on a bone partway down her spine. With the other hand, he cupped the back of her neck. Senneth braced her fists against the bed.

“I’m ready,” she said.

His hand closed around her neck; his thumb bored into her back. She gasped with a sensation that was both pain and the cessation of pain. It was as if his hands were as ferocious and unbreachable as her own wall of fire. It was as if they made a barrier that misery could not cross. Still, the suffocating hold was difficult to endure. She invariably had spectacular bruises the day after a cure like this, but the alternative was three days or more of migraine.

“All right—enough,” she breathed, and he slowly released her. They both waited in silence a moment to see if the pain would come washing back, but Senneth felt nothing now except hollow exhaustion. “I think that’s done it. What a gift you have for healing me.”

“The gift I treasure most,” he said solemnly. His hand pushed her down so she was lying on the bed. “Sleep now. I’ll go hear the councils of war.”

“I need to talk to Kirra,” she said drowsily.

“I’m sure she’ll be by as soon as she’s taken care of details of her own.”

“And my dress is covered with blood.”

“You can take it off later. Sleep now.” He leaned over and brushed his mouth across hers. The light kiss made her smile. She was asleep before he left the room.

I
T
was full dark when Senneth woke, feeling physically refreshed but emotionally drained. Sitting up cautiously, to make sure no pain woke up with her, she touched a few of the candles on the bedside table, and light wavered through the room. A glance at the fire sent the coals leaping with fire. Sweet gods, she was filthy. And starving.

She had changed into a more comfortable—and much cleaner—shirt and trousers, and was washing her face in the basin, when a quiet knock sounded on the door. “I’m up,” she called, and Tayse, Kirra, and Donnal filed in. Kirra was carrying a tray of food. “Oh, you most thoughtful girl,” Senneth said, immediately pulling up a chair beside a small table. “I was thinking about chewing some firewood, I was so hungry.”

Kirra sat beside her at the table. Donnal settled in his customary place on the floor before the hearth, even though he was shaped like a man tonight. Tayse dropped to the window seat so he could monitor any activity occurring outside.

“Everyone in Danan Hall sends you gratitude and adoration,” Kirra informed her, sneaking a slice of potato off Senneth’s plate. “And your brothers have been struck almost speechless by your display of power. You have done what you always hoped to do—earned their respect.”

“And it only cost the lives of several hundred men,” Senneth said between bites. “Hardly a steep price at all.”

“Still, it was most impressive, even for you,” Kirra said. “Though you look dreadful, I must say. How’s your head?”

“Better. But I’m sick at heart. Tell me the extent of the damage and what your father plans to do next.”

“The Hall itself is mostly unharmed. Except the lawns are completely destroyed, but who cares about that? We lost a little over eighty men, and my father and Casserah are devastated by that. They are also both furious—that a man of Danalustrous would betray the land. I think they care less that
they
were attacked. They would give their own lives for the House.”

“Are they prepared to defend themselves if a bigger army convenes?”

“They are. The reserve troops will be here tomorrow. But my father doesn’t seem to believe there will be another assault. He is busy collecting renewed oaths of fealty from the vassals who did
not
participate in the uprising. It seems that only three lesser lords were responsible for the mutiny.”

“Your sister mentioned Chalfrey Mallon? I think I met a Mallon or two many years ago when I lived here.”

Kirra looked deeply depressed. “It is my fault he hates the Hall. He despises mystics, and Casserah made it clear to him that she would choose me over him. He has been nursing a grudge for months, I suppose.”

Donnal stirred on the hearth. “Or found that incident a convenient excuse to turn against your father now.”

Tayse spoke from the bench at the window. “Does this change your father’s attitude about joining the battle on behalf of the king?”

Kirra’s laugh was bitter. “No! Indeed, it makes him more adamant that he will not send soldiers away from Danalustrous when it is clear Danalustrous needs defense. I cannot entirely blame him—except I do blame him. If Gillengaria is torn apart, Danalustrous will be trampled in turn. I don’t understand how he can fail to see that. It is so shortsighted, so
blind
, to care only about your own small patch of land. If we do not stand together, we will all fall. Gillengaria
must
supersede Danalustrous.”

Senneth smiled at her. “And this, I believe, is the reason your sister will be marlady, and not you.”

“It is indeed.”

Senneth finished the last of the bread and wished there were more. “We leave for Ghosenhall in the morning,” she said. “Will you stay here or come with us?”

“My father wants me to stay, but I can’t,” Kirra said. “There is obviously a great deal to do here—but—I have to put myself in the king’s service. I have to.”

Senneth glanced at Donnal, and he nodded. “Even if Kirra wanted to stay, I would go,” he said quietly. “All of us are needed. All of us who have some ability to defend the throne.”

Senneth tapped an impatient hand against the table. “Still, it will take so long to get to the city! And this is news that should go fast. Perhaps you two should fly on ahead and tell Baryn what happened.”

Kirra locked eyes with Donnal and he grinned. “As to that,” Kirra said. “There might be a way. To get you to Ghosenhall faster.”

Senneth sat up straighter in the chair. “Why am I filled suddenly with apprehension?”

Kirra smiled, but only briefly. “I could change you, you know. Both of you. To something small and furry, perhaps mice. Donnal and I could take hawk shape and carry the two of you across Gillengaria. Not comfortable, and not fun, but we could do it.”

Senneth just stared at her. Tayse had slewed around at her first words, losing all interest in whatever might be unfolding on the grounds. “I’m not sure I have the heart for that,” Senneth said faintly.

“No. I thought you might not. And I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t exactly relish being set on fire by you, even if it was ultimately something that would aid me.”

Donnal’s voice was casual. “Justin would do it.
He’s
not afraid.”

“Justin’s recklessness is legendary,” Senneth shot back.

“And I’m not
entirely
certain I can change you,” Kirra said. “Last fall, I altered all those people on Dorrin Isle who were sick, but none of them was a mystic. Maybe the magic in your veins will keep
my
magic out.” She shrugged. “It’s the reason I didn’t try to change Ellynor last year when she had to be rescued. The situation was too dire for me to try something that might go seriously awry.”

“You realize such a confession makes me even less eager to subject myself to your spells!” Senneth exclaimed.

“Yes, but I really think I can do it,” Kirra said. She managed another smile. “And I should have no problem changing Tayse.”

“Could you change my sword? And my knives?” Tayse asked.

Kirra’s face brightened even more. “Yes, my valiant Rider, I could change your weaponry right along with your body. And change them back the minute we touched down in Ghosenhall.”

Now Senneth was staring at him. “You can’t seriously be considering—”

He grinned at her. “Justin would do it. Justin
has
done it.”

“Justin has never been my guide for behavior.”

“And there’s more you might not like,” Kirra added. Her expression was impish, but Senneth could tell she was utterly serious. About the offer, anyway. “The trip will still take us about two days—we cannot fly all that way, carrying you, without stopping to sleep. It would be easiest for me to
not
change you back to human form overnight, then change you again in the morning. But you might find it too disconcerting to stay altered for so long.”

Senneth just opened her mouth and didn’t answer.

Kirra went off into gales of laughter. “Oh, look at you! You’re trying to decide if I’m joking! I’m not, truly I’m not. Senneth, I believe I can do this, and it would cut the trip easily in half. But it would be strange and probably unsettling. And if we had flown half a day and you were too petrified to continue, we’d be in the middle of the country with no horses and no gear, and it would take you even longer to get back to the royal city.”

Donnal shrugged. “We’d change ourselves into horses for the rest of the trip,” he said. “We’d still have gained a day or two.”

“And you want to turn me into a
mouse
?” Senneth demanded, finding her voice.

Kirra nodded. “A very small one. Easy to carry.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t forget and accidentally
eat
me?”

Kirra bubbled with laughter again. “Of course I wouldn’t forget! Do you ever accidentally set something on fire?”

“I think we should do it,” Tayse said.

She looked at him helplessly. “How can you not be afraid? How can you not be
repulsed
? I don’t want to be a mouse flying above the earth in the talons of a predator!”

“I never thought to see you unnerved by magic,” he said, amused.

She shuddered. “It’s not the magic that frightens me so much as the loss of control,” she said. “I would think the same thing would weigh with you.”

“I’m practical, and this is a practical solution,” he said. “But we will not do it if you cannot endure it. We will send Donnal and Kirra ahead, and make our way with all speed by more conventional means.”

How was this possible? That Tayse, who had distrusted sorcery with all his heart when she first met him, was now willing to abandon himself utterly to witchery? While she, whose life had been shaped in every particular by the power in her hands, was hesitant and afraid to submit to enchantment? She took a deep breath.

“We must have some kind of agreement,” she said. “After the first hour of flight. You must stop, and set us down, and ask us if we can tolerate more of this unnatural existence. And if we say we cannot—”

“Well, you won’t be able to
say
anything,” Kirra pointed out. “You’ll still be a mouse.”

“I realize that! But you will ask, and you will give me a task to do to indicate that I am or am not willing to continue. And if I am, then you can gather me up in your claws again and carry me away for as long as your strength holds up.”

Kirra practically bounced in her chair. “Most excellent! I am proud of both of you. Sleep well tonight. We leave on quite an adventure in the morning.”

T
HE
entire manor house was awake by dawn, for their own small party was not the only one anxious to return home. Senneth met all three of her brothers in the dining hall and said good-byes over a hasty breakfast. She waved off Will’s wild enthusiasm about her magic and Harris’s somewhat less hearty appreciation, and she gave Kiernan a sober look.

“When I see you again, it may be on another battlefield,” she said.

“Count on it,” he said. “I will ride out with the army I send to Ghosenhall.”

“Travel safely back to Brassen Court. You have to assume there is unrest across all the northern Houses. I would avoid Tilt, if I were you.”

He smiled grimly. “Yes, I believe I will. You, too—take care in your travels.”

He had no idea how completely she planned to disregard that admonition.

It was still early morning when she and Tayse, Kirra and Donnal gathered in a little garden not far from the kitchens. Tayse made a pile of the items he wanted to bring with him back to Ghosenhall—his various blades, his uniform, his sash with the royal lions—but Senneth had very little she cared to salvage from her outbound journey. The blue dress was ruined. Her pendant, Kirra had assured her, was small enough to change along with her body. She added nothing to the pile.

“All right,” she said, taking a deep breath and sinking to the ground, “change me if you can.”

Kirra knelt beside her and put her hands on Senneth’s face. The blue eyes were intent and serious as they watched Senneth; the beautiful face was furrowed in concentration. Senneth closed her eyes and felt the sharp tingle of magic along her cheekbones, down the back of her throat, in her hips, her knees, her toes. Her head felt suddenly bound with pressure, which abruptly faded. Her fingers involuntarily splayed and flexed. Her heart was beating so fast it should have made her breathless, but the pulse seemed strangely unalarming. She sniffed and thought how rich and spicy the air had suddenly become.

“Open your eyes. And give yourself a moment to adjust.”

Oh, how the world had changed.

She was in a forest of high, brown grass; nuts as large as her head littered the ground. Huge, ungainly creatures were grouped around her, so big they were impossible to see. Below her, the ground stretched on forever, loose soil full of hidden treasures, pockets of mud safe for burrowing into. Her feet were pink and dainty, perfect for scratching through dirt. She could feel her nose twitching, sifting through the laden air, picking out scents for food and danger.

In a lifetime of magic, Senneth had never experienced such a strange spell. She lifted one of the four-toed feet and patted her cheek, trying to get a sense of her face and fur. She was herself, all her thought processes familiar and intact, and yet she wasn’t. Fine-honed instincts not her own hovered at the back of her mind. Even now, knowing that the monsters around her were beloved friends, she was poised to run should they suddenly turn capricious. She was calculating the distance to safety; she was distracted by the presence of a dried berry on a nearby shrub.

One of the gigantic humans flattened to the ground, its face inches away. Senneth recognized Kirra but it took all her willpower to keep from chittering and scurrying away. “How are you tolerating this so far?” Kirra asked, her voice very loud and quite distinct. “If you don’t think you can bear it another moment, just stay right there and I’ll change you back. If you think you can manage, take a few steps over toward Donnal.”

Well, which one was Donnal? Senneth turned in a half circle to locate him, kneeling a few feet away, his outstretched hand lying on the ground. She minced over and scrabbled into his palm, thinking how different the texture of skin was compared to grass and dirt.

She felt a moment’s panic when his fingers closed around her and he lifted her up, but she sternly suppressed her fear. She blinked her little eyes as she found herself staring into Donnal’s large ones.

“She’ll do,” he said. He was grinning through his beard.

A rustle and a thump as Tayse dropped to the ground. “Then change me, and let’s be off.”

Senneth didn’t really get a good view of that alteration, for Donnal held her and stroked her back until it was over. But a few minutes later he set her on the ground face-to-face with a sleek black mouse with bristling white whiskers and inquisitive black eyes. Tayse. He took a few tentative steps forward, lifted his feet one at a time as if to gauge how they worked, then came close enough to touch Senneth’s nose with his own.