Shadow Magic (25 page)

F
OR
A
LETHIA, THE WEEKS
had flown by on wings. She progressed quickly from simple, spells of illusion to more difficult magic, though her teachers refused to let her try any truly great enchantments. She learned the basic laws of power, as well as some of the abuses to be avoided, and for the first time she began to understand why Jordet had refused her request to use magic to start a fire with wet wood on the trip to Eveleth.

The strange clarity of sight that Alethia had experienced on awakening from her attempt to use the firestone as a focus came and went erratically, growing more pronounced as the days went by. She soon learned that she possessed more than sharpened eyesight, for when the talent awoke during one of the lessons Alethia found that she could see the lines of power that Clasiena was calling on to demonstrate a simple spell.

After that, Alethia quickly discovered that she could see power, and sometimes even the relationships that were so important to spell-casting. The ability often enabled her to bypass the endless chains of rules that Illeana and Clasiena gave her to memorize, but the spell-sight was unpredictable, so she made herself continue the dull chore of memorizing Clasiena’s lists.

Her Shee teachers were astonished by Alethia’s newfound talent, and they began to encourage her to use it as much as she could in an attempt to discover just how she did it. Efforts to duplicate the effect by having Shee use a firestone as a focus failed completely. Several attempts to achieve similar results with Tamsin also failed, and the Shee were reluctantly forced to conclude that Alethia’s mixed parentage gave her some sort of ability that neither race alone possessed.

In spite of his failure with the firestone, Tamsin, too, was learning. Alethia spent much of her spare time helping him get the feel of the simple spells Clasiena and Illeana taught them, and being tutored in her turn in the long, intricate lists that the minstrel found so much easier to memorize than she. Tamsin had a knack for the spell-chants that amazed the Shee, and he was passionately interested in learning about the Shee, about Eveleth, and about magic.

At the end of the first week, news of the Battle of Brenn arrived. Almost at once, both of Alethia’s teachers were summoned to assist the other Veldatha in their attempts to descry the movements of the Lithmern army. The Shee women did not, however, neglect the lessons, which surprised both Alethia and Tamsin until the minstrel remembered the importance that the Shee attached to Firivar’s vague prophecy. Even so, Alethia could not help wondering whether she would have had quite as many lists to memorize if Clasiena and Illeana had not been so busy with their other duties.

Alethia’s favorite spot for study was perched atop a low wall in the gardens, where she was out of sight of the palace. By the beginning of her fourth week in Eveleth, she had securely established her preference for solitude, so when study of a singularly dull treatise was interrupted by a shout echoing across the garden, Alethia simply ignored the noise.

The shout was repeated, and this time Alethia looked up in mingled annoyance and surprise. A moment later she flung the book down from the wall and leaped after it. “Har! Maurin!”

“It’s about time you saw us!” Har said as they came up to her. “What is so fascinating?”

“When did you get here?” Alethia asked, ignoring his question.

“About an hour ago,” Har told her. “We’ve been delivering messages and seeing the horses stabled. And looking for you, I might add.”

“An hour! And you let me sit here alone all that time and didn’t come?” Alethia said. “I don’t believe you were looking. Everyone knows I sit out here in the afternoon; you couldn’t have been looking very hard, anyway.”

Alethia retrieved her book, and the three started slowly back toward the palace. Alethia was full of questions about the battle, and Har and Maurin were so engrossed in answering her that none of them saw Tamsin until he was almost upon them.

“Greetings! Clasiena told me you had arrived,” the minstrel said as he reached the group. He looked at Alethia. “Now you must make your decision.”

Maurin frowned, but Har only looked at the minstrel and said, “Decision? What decision? Father sent us to bring Alethia to Wentholm; why should she have to decide anything?”

“Wentholm!” Alethia broke in. “Why does he want me to go to Wentholm? If I am not to go to Brenn, why shouldn’t I stay here?”

“We think the Lithmern army is planning to cut through the mountains at Coldwell Pass,” said Maurin. “We are going to try to ambush them there, but they are very strong. If we lose, the Lithmern and Shadow-born will be within two days march of Eveleth should they turn north.”

“Yes, and Father wants you further away than that,” Har said. “He’s sending Tatia, too; she’s probably already left.”

“And Mother?” Alethia asked sweetly.

“Father wanted her to go, too, but she decided to stay in Brenn,” Har admitted reluctantly.

“Well, I won’t go either!” Alethia said indignantly. “I’ll stay here if he doesn’t wish me to be in Brenn, but I can’t see any point in going off to Wentholm! And I don’t like First Lord Thielen anyway.”

“Alethia, be reasonable,” Har said. “The Lithmern have already tried to kidnap you once, and this time they’ll have a whole army with Shadow-born in control. The Veldatha are already saying that the Shadow-born’s influence is spreading into the mountains; in another week it won’t be safe to travel. You must go!”

“I do not have to go,” Alethia contradicted him. “I can very easily stay here in Eveleth, though I can see that I must find someone who is willing to tell me what is going on. I had not heard anything about Coldwell Pass, or ambushes, or anything.”

Har cast an I-told-you-so look at Maurin, and applied himself once more to reasoning with his sister. The argument continued for hours. When he learned that the Shee were teaching Alethia magic, Maurin pointed out that the Shadow-born would be even more delighted to get their hands on her if she were partly trained, and Alethia began to weaken. The thought of the Shadow-born filled her with an unreasoning terror. Reluctantly, she agreed at last to accompany them.

Even after the fact of their departure was settled, it was three days before they were ready to leave Eveleth. The Veldatha wizards had succeeded in designing an amulet which would, they hoped, protect Corrim from the Shadow-born; without it he would almost certainly become a puppet once more as soon as he left the protection of the magicians. Corrim was eager to leave Eveleth; the Shee were a constant reminder of things he would prefer to forget, and he was uncomfortable with the presence of magic. Even after three and a half weeks with the Shee mind-menders he seemed a broken man.

On the fourth day after their arrival, the amulet was finished, and they prepared to leave. A young Shee soldier was chosen by Prestemon to accompany them as a guide. “The mountains are easy to lose your way in, and they are dangerous for strangers,” said the Shee captain. “I would give you more men if I could, but most of them are already at Coldwell Pass.”

The weather was fair when the small party set out. Their Shee guide led them almost directly south, and, noting this, Maurin frowned and rode forward to speak with him. “I am not familiar with the Kathkari,” Maurin began, “but it seems we travel south. Will this not take us to Coldwell Pass?”

“We should come out of the mountains just north of the pass,” the other replied. “Does this displease you?”

“To term it so is perhaps too strong,” Maurin said. “Yet I wonder if it is wise for Alethia to travel so close to Lithra.”

The Shee shrugged. “This is the fastest and safest route through the Kathkari. I would not lightly chance another with so small a group; these mountains are unpredictable. Also, we shall not travel directly by the pass, but turn east through the woods once we are clear of the mountains. Will that suffice?”

Maurin nodded, though he was not completely reassured. He felt strangely uneasy, and long ago he had learned to trust such hunches. None of the others seemed at all disturbed. On the contrary, they appeared to be enjoying the ride; Corrim was even smiling a little at something Alethia was saying. Rather than speak of his vague forebodings, Maurin dropped back to the rear of the group, where he could keep watch.

His worries seemed needless, for the trip was uneventful. By night they were well into the mountains, and shortly before dark they made camp. Still, Maurin found himself prowling restlessly about during his watch later that night. There was nothing to see except small animals and an owl that swooped low over the embers of the campfire.

The next morning was cold and clear. Alethia commented on the temperature as she poured water to wash in, and their guide frowned. “It is too early for frost, even here,” said the Shee. “Also there is something in the air I do not like.” He urged them all to hurry, and none of the travelers objected. Camp was broken in record time. Maurin was no longer alone in his worries; the entire party seemed edgy, even the horses. Alethia continually shifted in the saddle, and several times Maurin saw Corrim’s hand reach to feel the amulet he wore, as if for reassurance.

Barely an hour after they had left the campsite, their guide called a halt. “Stay here a moment,” he instructed them. “There is a place a little above us that gives a good view, and I think it wise to take advantage of it today.” He was gone before the others could protest, scrambling on foot up the rocky slope to disappear among the trees.

The Shee reappeared well before any of the others expected him. “We must hurry,” he said as he remounted. “A storm is coming from the north—I do not like the look of it. There is a place ahead where we can shelter, if we reach it in time. Fortunately this area is full of caves.”

The little group hurried on. The sky had darkened ominously and the wind was rising when the guide finally pointed to a clump of trees ahead of them. “We will have to stop here. There is an overhang behind the grove that will keep off the worst of the wind and rain. It is not as good as a cave, but better than nothing, and we shall not be able to make the one I was heading for before the storm hits.”

“The horses are still fresh; we can certainly ride a little way through the storm even if it is as bad as you fear,” Har objected.

“If the storm is unnatural, as I fear it is, we must be under cover when it arrives,” the Shee said firmly. “Come.” He nudged his horse and started forward once more.

Suddenly a loud screech echoed from above them. All heads jerked upward at once, but it was a moment before any of them located the slowly growing specks in the sky overhead. There were seven of them, great white birds drifting down toward them like giant snowflakes. “Ride!” shouted the guide.

A
LETHIA PULLED ON THE
reins, turning her horse toward the grove the Shee had pointed out and dug her heels into the animal’s sides. Her mount responded with a burst of speed, and for a few moments it seemed that they would gain the shelter of the trees in time.

Then the birds ceased their slow downward spiraling and dove. Alethia heard Maurin’s cry of warning and drew her dagger. Out of the corner of her eye she saw that Maurin and Har had their swords out; Tamsin and the Shee guide were barely behind them. Corrim was still struggling with his when the birds struck. The first two plunged toward the Shee. One passed over his head, slashing downward and forcing him to raise his sword and duck sideways to protect himself. Just as he did so, the second bird arrived, diving directly into his side and knocking him out of the saddle onto the ground.

Alethia did not have time to see more. One of the birds stooped toward her, and she struck up with her dagger as the bird came in. She was conscious of a great mass of white, a gust of air, and golden eyes staring into hers with surprising intelligence. Alethia ducked sidewise. She heard a tearing sound and liquid fire ran down her arm; the creature gave a scream of rage and was gone.

Another appeared to take its place before Alethia could look to see how the others fared. This time the bird swept low and slashed at Alethia’s horse. The frightened animal shied and bolted. Alethia yanked desperately at the reins, but the animal had the bit between its teeth, and she could not control it.

Behind her the sounds of battle faded, until they were lost under the noise of heavy wing beats and drumming hooves. At least one of the birds was following, hoping perhaps for an easy meal when the horse tired. Alethia made fleeting mental note of the pursuit and concentrated on staying in the saddle. Her arm ached, and the horse’s headlong flight threatened to throw her to the ground.

There was a sudden gust of wind, and the bird screamed and veered away. With no more warning, the storm struck. It was not the rain Alethia had expected, but snow, whipped into stinging missiles by a bone-chilling, blinding wind. In seconds, she was unable to see past the horse’s nose. She could only cling desperately to the saddle and hope that luck or instinct would keep her mount from falling.

The harrowing ride did not last much longer. The wind and snow forced the horse to slow before its strength was completely exhausted. As soon as she could control the animal again, Alethia turned it back toward what was, as nearly as she could judge, the way they had come.

It was difficult to persuade the horse to travel across the wind. Snow was already drifting about the animal’s feet, and it was impossible to see. Alethia had to knot the reins to keep from losing them. Pulling her torn summer cloak closer around her shoulders, she bent low in the saddle, trying to present a smaller target to the biting wind.

She lost track of time. Her arm throbbed painfully, and her fingers grew numb with cold. Several times she tried breathing on them, but afterward they felt colder than before. Finally she gave it up and huddled miserably in the saddle. She had no way of knowing if they were traveling in the right direction or not, and had only her own increasing coldness by which to judge the passing of time.

The storm was now nearly a full-fledged blizzard. Alethia raised her good hand to pull at her cloak once more, and the dull glow of the firestone caught her eye. Until that moment, the thought of her newfound power had not occurred to her; she still thought of it as an impractical skill, something to play with. It had not occurred to her that it might be useful.