Strange Attractors (46 page)

I’m going to get some sleep. Wake me in an hour.
She smiled at his affirmative and headed for her tent.

Clay wiped down his guitar strings before closing the case. He slung it over his back then mounted the chestnut gelding and rode out into the sunshine. When Shane didn’t follow, he called over his shoulder. ‘It’s a horse, Shane, not the peaks of Prieta.’

Shane heaved, scrambling into the saddle. The brown horse sighed, swishing his tail when the saddle slipped to the side, Shane hitting the ground like a sack of potatoes.

‘Forget to tighten your girth?’ Clay asked, laughter crinkling his face.

Shane let out a string of curses as he brushed himself off.

‘Who taught you to ride?’ Clay asked.

‘Rosette, though I’ve had little chance to practise.’

‘I can see that.’ Clay hopped off the chestnut and re-saddled Shane’s horse, tightening the girth snugly and
giving him a leg up. ‘Even your reins! You’re sending her in circles.’

Shane sat rigid, looking at either side of the horse’s neck, trying to get the lengths right. Clay held the horse still, taking a twist out of the bridle strap. ‘Lucky she’s a school horse, eh?’ After a little more adjusting they were on the road, heading back to Treeon. ‘I still don’t understand it,’ Clay said. ‘Why did I wake up in the stables? I can’t recall a thing.’

‘You got very drunk.’

‘I don’t remember but I guess those stable girls might have been enough to lure me to the barn late last night.’

Shane shook his head. ‘I don’t think so.’

‘Didn’t they appeal to you?’

‘Very much, but they had eyes only for each other. Besides, I distinctly recall you staggering into bed around dawn. Something’s not right.’

‘Most likely your memory.’

‘Maybe. I had a bit to drink myself.’

‘The more important question of the morning is, why would the witch Rall be riding towards Corsanon with a war about to break?’

‘War?’ Shane screwed up his face.

‘They’re marching on Dumarka. I can practically feel the ground shaking from here.’

‘You can’t feel any such thing,’ Shane said.

‘I can, and I do.’

Shane shook his head. ‘Perhaps she’s off to sack the unguarded citadel, or maybe the coffers. Who knows? Witches’ business.’

‘Our business. We’re witches’ spies.’ Clay grinned but let it fade when he saw Shane’s response. ‘What’s wrong now?’

‘Witches’ spies? You say it like it was an honour.’

‘It is!’

‘We’re bards caught in a death game, way over our heads.’

Clay wrinkled his nose. ‘I hadn’t thought of it that way.’

‘I have.’

They rode on, the whistle and chorus of magpies filling the air around them.

‘How do we get this news to Nell?’ Clay asked. ‘She’ll want to know.’

‘If she’s anything like the other Nells I’ve met, she’ll come to us before the day is out.’

‘Other Nells?’

‘Don’t ask. I can’t even explain it to myself.’

They trotted past farmlands, the pastures close-cropped, the cattle fat. A bird of prey whistled overhead and Shane’s horse came to a sudden stop. He slammed into the pommel, cursing. ‘What’s that for?’ he asked the horse, digging her sides with his heels. She didn’t budge.

‘Look, there.’ Clay pointed to the sky. ‘The bird’s coming this way.’

Shane’s horse snorted, backing up. A huge raptor headed straight towards them. It was flanked by three ravens.

‘Ease up on your reins. Legs still,’ Clay said. ‘She’s just spooked. Go with it.’ His eye followed the progress of the bird. ‘Why’s it coming at us like that?’

‘To land. You’ll have to do it. I can’t keep my horse still.’

‘Do what?’

‘Roll down your sleeve and hold out your arm.’

‘You’re kidding?’

‘She needs a place to touch down before she morphs.’

‘Morphs?’

‘It’s Nell. Be quick.’

Clay swallowed hard and held out his arm in time for the black falcon to stall overhead and alight on his wrist. The claws barely curled around his sleeve before she sprang, a shock wave blasting his face. His horse’s head was up, mane streaming in the wind. As he watched, mouth open, the falcon dissolved like grains of sand and a cloaked witch appeared. The chestnut horse jumped sideways and Clay was nearly unseated before he brought the animal under control.

‘Sorry, lads.’ Nell clucked to the horses and they settled, though their ears remained pricked, their necks crested. ‘What news do you have? Is Makee afoot?’

‘Not her,’ Shane said. ‘At least, not the Makee we left at Treeon.’

‘Who then?’

‘Her name’s Rall, a dark-haired witch, riding a golden warhorse.’

‘Beautiful woman,’ Shane said.

Clay nodded. ‘She was in the pub last night.’

‘For how long?’

‘She stayed over.’

‘Alone?’

Clay shook his head. ‘With her apprentice, Shaea.’

‘Shaea, is it?’

‘From the night in the corridors, yes.’ Clay sighed. ‘With the honey-red hair and dark eyes.’

‘She’s beautiful as well,’ Shane added.

‘Did you see, after noticing all this beauty, where they were headed?’

‘That’s the curious thing,’ Shane said. ‘They were riding straight back to Corsanon.’

‘You’re sure?’

‘The road only leads two ways—east to Corsanon or west to Treeon. They were heading east.’

‘Good work, lads.’ Nell went to the side of the road. ‘Mind your horses. I’m off.’

‘Wait.’ Clay held up his hand. ‘What do you want us to do?’

‘Back to Treeon. Let me know if Makee makes a move.’

‘But…’

‘Thank you.’ Nell dropped to one knee and sprang, shooting into the air. The horses spun in circles when the warp of energy smacked them. Shane lost his seat and hit the ground, Clay reaching for the brown horse’s reins as it turned to bolt. He managed to grab them and hang on but the effort jerked him from the saddle, the wind knocked from his lungs when he fell. By the time he got to his feet, the falcon had vanished and his horse was cropping grass at the side of the road. He brushed himself off, checking his guitar case. ‘No worse for it,’ he said. ‘On to Treeon then?’

Shane rubbed his shoulder, staring into the distance. ‘Without my horse?’

‘She’s headed the right way.’ Clay waved in the direction the horse had run. ‘Come on. We’ll find her around the next bend.’ He offered a stirrup and his arm. ‘I can double you until we do.’

‘No thanks. I’d rather walk.’

The conversation in the kitchen fell silent. Grayson sat across from Annadusa, Fynn curled up asleep near his feet. The fires were finally out. He’d eaten his fill, and bathed, but still had not slept. From the strain on his mother’s face, he felt sure she hadn’t slept either. She poured him more tea and his lids grew heavy. ‘What’s in this?’ he asked.

‘Nothing much. Some ginger, mint, that sort of thing.’

He cocked an eyebrow. ‘What else, Mother?’

‘Maybe some valerian root…’

‘Maybe a fistful?’

‘Oh, all right,’ Annadusa said after draining her mug. ‘A teaspoon of the stuff. You need to sleep, and so do I.’

He nodded. ‘What started the fires?’

‘I’m not sure. I felt the spell lose potency. We need to reinforce it, but I don’t know where to begin.’

‘Has there been anyone about that seemed strange to you?’

She chuckled. ‘You mean stranger than those haunting Lupins and other Gaelean witches that wield swords and weave spells?’

He laughed with her for a moment. ‘It feels like we’re being watched, is all.’

‘I hadn’t noticed. Been too much to tend to.’

‘That’s what worries me.’

‘You think the fires were set on purpose?’

‘It’s possible.’

‘By whom?’

‘I don’t know, but I wish Kreshkali were here. She might pick it up.’

‘There’s a way to find out.’ Annadusa refilled her mug.

‘How?’

‘Temple Los Loma is an island. We’ve nothing but red desert around us. Unless a witch flies in, there have to be tracks.’

‘Tracks can be covered.’ He frowned. ‘But not scent!’

‘Grayson, no one here’s got the nose for it.’

Fynn woke up and yipped.

‘He does,’ Grayson said, patting the dog’s head. ‘But we can’t communicate with him…not like Rosette can.’

Annadusa brightened. ‘A Lupin might hear his thoughts! And a Lupin would have the nose for it too.’ She leaned forward and grabbed his hand. ‘That’s our answer.’

‘But there aren’t any about. They all followed Hotha and the Sword Master.’

She smiled, her face creasing. ‘Not all. There was one left behind. The goddess knows she grumbled about it too.’ Annadusa went to the sink and rinsed her cup. ‘Maluka’s here, and she’s perfect. Fynn adores her. I’m sure they talk.’

‘Maluka? I know her. Fights like a demon. I’m surprised they excluded her. What did she do?’

‘Broke her clavicle. It’s nearly healed.’

‘But she can morph, sniff out the perimeter with Fynn?’

‘I can’t see why not.’ She looked at her son. ‘Where are you going?’

‘To get her, while the trail’s hot.’

Fynn’s tail was wagging.

‘It’s three in the morning, Grayson. Let the girl sleep. She’s been fighting fires for two days.’

He felt his lids grow heavier and suspected Annadusa had cast a spell with the words.

‘You’re right. But wake me at dawn. We need to know what we’re up against.’

‘You mean more than a volatile environment?’

He grimaced. ‘Volatile is putting it lightly, but yes.’

‘You think ASSIST is still…active?’

‘If they are, we best not be blind to it.’

‘The library!’

‘That would be the first thing they’d want to destroy.’

‘We’ve guards around the temple grounds now.’

‘Good.’ He kissed her cheek before heading upstairs. ‘I’ll see you at dawn.’

‘Grayson,’ she called him back. ‘Are you all right? With Rosette, I mean, and the baby.’

‘I am.’ He nodded. ‘Everything is all right.’

Mistress?

Kreshkali opened her eyes.

I’ve brought coffee.

She yawned, stretching her arms over her head.

‘Good man,’ she whispered, looking at his shadow in front of the tent flap. ‘Come in, Teg.’

He ducked his head at the entrance, light streaming in with him. He had two mugs and a plate of flat bread.

‘How’d it go?’ she asked, taking the drink. ‘Do we have agreement?’

‘We do. An’ Lawrence is leading half the troops south to circle behind the Corsanons. They left almost an hour ago.’

‘Hotha’s holding on here?’

‘Until Rashnan catches up.’

‘Excellent.’ She ate in silence, studying his face.

‘I want you with An’ Lawrence, Teg.’ She held his eyes. ‘Don’t look so worried. It’s not a punishment.’

‘I thought I would fight beside you.’

‘You may still, but I want you with him for another reason.’

He sat immobile, eyes soft, waiting for her to continue. She loved that about him, the way he didn’t interrupt. So much patience in one being, true to his Capricorn sun. He had Earth magic, through and through, even though he was born on Gaela. Or maybe because of it.

‘All Lupins carry Earth magic,’ he said, his voice barely audible.

‘I remember.’ She blew on the edge of her mug, taking a sip, offering a smile.

‘My task with An’ Lawrence?’

‘Depending on what Makee pulls, Rosette may come up behind the Corsanons. I want you there in case she does. She’s no idea of our plans and I can’t reach her.’

Teg nodded. ‘Me neither, but I’ll find her if she’s anywhere to be found.’

Kali bit into the bread. It was still warm from the pan and had a smoky taste. ‘Thank you.’ She washed it down with more coffee, strong and black. ‘How long will it take you to catch up?’

‘I’ll be at their camp tonight, whenever I leave.’

She laughed. ‘I love your confidence.’

His voice went very soft. ‘I love your…’

She stopped his words, her fingers resting lightly on his lips. She could feel his pulse there.

‘Kali,’ he whispered.

She brushed his hair back from his cheek, leaning forward. Her lips almost touched his. Almost. She stood abruptly. ‘I’ll meet you,’ she said. ‘When there are no Corsanons between us.’ She didn’t hear his response. She was out of the tent and into the sky, streaming for the heart of the Dumarkian Woods before he could respond.

Grayson tapped on the door, the frame vibrating as he did. Maluka had taken over one of the rooms next to his workshop. He wondered why he’d not noticed that, and laughed to himself.
I’ve not had time to notice the little things, the inconsequential details of life.

Inconsequential, is it?

The voice rocked him back on his heels. It sounded like it was inside his head.

‘Entrée.’

He rubbed his neck. ‘Lack of sleep,’ he muttered to himself. He opened the door to Maluka’s room and
was met with the scent of peppermint oil and soot. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the dark.

‘Come in,’ she said.

There was a short candle burning on her bedside table, a journal face down on the pillow. The shelf above her bed was stacked with books and odd items—feathers and stones, sticks and woven webs. He didn’t know if they were for spells or ritual, or simply a Lupin girl’s tendency to collect interesting things. He pulled his eyes away in case they were for magical purposes and turned to her. ‘I got you up,’ he said, realising she wore only a singlet and a sarong draped around her hips.

She shook her head. ‘Couldn’t sleep.’

He understood. If it hadn’t been for Annadusa’s herbs, he doubted he would have caught his few hours. ‘We need your help,’ he said, lowering his voice.

‘That’s what I’m here for.’

‘Can you communicate with the pup?’

Fynn sat by the door, his eyes never wavering from Maluka.

‘Of course. What’s up?’

The breeze came in from the open window, ruffling the curtain. ‘Are you healed enough to check the perimeter?’

‘Run the boundary? Certainly.’ She bookmarked her journal and returned it to the shelf. ‘You think the fires were intentional?’

‘I want to rule it out.’