The Cursed Towers (58 page)

"Ea d-d-damn him!" Iain said thickly.

The captain of the Blue Guards got to his feet abruptly. "I will send men out to hunt for him. We will question him and find out exactly how and why he broke faith with us, and then we shall put him on trial for treason. He shall suffer for this betrayal!"

Finlay James MacFinlay, the Marquess of Tullitay and Kirkcudbright, Viscount of Balmorran and Strathraer, and the only son and heir of the Duke of Falkglen, was found hiding under a bush at the edge of the forest, his blue jacket torn and muddied, his beard matted with thistles. He was dragged back to the army camp behind the horse of the soldier who found him. As he was hauled into the center of the camp, he was greeted with boos and catcalls and gobs of spit. He covered his face with his hand and sobbed.

Iseult stood pale and stern-faced outside the royal pavilion, dressed in her battered armor, her hair hidden beneath her long-tailed white cap. Duncan Ironfist and Iain of Arran stood to one side, Niall the Bear and Dide the Juggler to the other. They were all that were left of Lachlan's officers. They stared at Finlay with cold contempt in their eyes.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he sobbed. "Please forgive me. I did no' ken what it was I did. She asked me to send her news o' our plans and movements ... I thought it was so we could arrange to meet ... I so longed to lie with her again ... I did no' think. Och, please, in the name o' Ea's green blood, forgive me." He raised piteous eyes but saw no pity in the eyes of those who condemned him. He cried for them to kill him but the mercy of death was denied him. He was branded with a T for traitor and condemned to wander as an outcast, begging for food and mercy, and having all know that he had betrayed his Righ and fellow soldiers. Even his own father would not offer him succor, driving him away with kicks and oaths. So Finlay Fear-Naught became Finlay the Cursed, a man without home or friends or honor, a man with the shrieks of the dying forever resounding in his ears.

The Fairge

The dragon soared high over the snow-clad mountains, her scaled body shining a gilded green in the sunshine. Isabeau clung on tightly, tears streaming down her face from the sharp wind, her face alight with exultation. She gave a whoop of excitement as Asrohc plunged downward, her stomach lurching as the horizon blurred. Then the dragon twisted her body into a graceful roll, so that Isabeau was upside down, her hair hanging like a curtain. Despite herself Isabeau shrieked, clinging to the dragon's spines desperately, then the dragon was upright again, her wings spread.

I
wish ye would give me some warning when ye do that!
Isabeau said. The young dragon-princess gave a mocking bugle which shook the snow from the crag of rock below them. Isabeau watched it fall hundreds of feet like handfuls of white feathers, gradually melting away in the wind. She could not help giving a shiver of fear at the vast distance beneath them. She gazed down at the green alpine meadows so far below and suddenly her eyes sharpened. Far below was a crumpled pile of red.

Asrohc, would ye fly lower for me? I think I see something . . .

Obligingly the dragon folded her wings and they dropped as fast as an eagle plunging for its prey. Isabeau gasped and clung on, grateful yet again for the complicated leather straps that kept her secure on the dragon's back. The heap of red she had seen rushed toward them. Isabeau had just realized that what she had seen was a body, when the dragon suddenly changed direction and was soaring again into the sky.

Nay, Asrohc, go back!

It is nothing I wish to touch ground for,
the dragon responded.
Please, Asrohc! They may be hurt and in need o' my help. Even if they're dead, I canna leave them
for the wolves. Will ye no' take me down?

The human lives, but not for much longer. Better that ye let the breath fail in her body.
She be alive? Asrohc, take me down!

If thou so desirest, though why thou wouldst wish to help one such as she, I understand not.
Puzzling over the contempt in the dragon's mind-voice, Isabeau leant forward, trying to see over the scaled shoulder as the dragon slowly descended in ever decreasing circles. Asrohc landed lightly in the meadow, coiling her tail around her claws as Isabeau unbuckled the straps and climbed down. It took her a moment to regain her balance after the giddy descent, but once the world had stopped whirling, Isabeau crossed the meadow and knelt at the side of the woman lying facedown in the grass. She was wearing a torn and muddied gown of red velvet, and her face was obscured by dark hair. Isabeau felt for her pulse, which was very light and uneven, then carefully rolled her over so that she could clear her mouth and nose. The mud-matted hair fell back and Isabeau sat back on her heels in amazement. It was Maya.

The former banrigh was breathing harshly, and the gills at the side of her neck fluttered weakly. Her skin was dry, its fine scaling rough to the touch, her narrow lips blue. There was a bruised, inflamed wound at her temple, thick with dried blood, and the soles of her slippers were in tatters. Isabeau felt her forehead and it was burning hot. The apprentice witch chewed her fingernails in anxiety. She knew she had to get Maya into salt water as quickly as possible if the Fairge was to live. She glanced back at the dragon. Asrohc was resting her great, angular head on her claws, regarding Isabeau with enigmatic golden eyes. Her long, spiked tail twitched from side to side.

Asrohc, she will die if I do no' get her to water quickly. Will ye fly us back to the dragons' valley so
I can immerse her in the bubbling pools?

The dragon yawned widely, curling her slender, sky-blue tongue.

Please, Asrohc! I canna let her die!

Why not?
The dragon responded.
It is she who sent the red-robed soldiers to our valley and harmed
my brother with her poisoned spears; it is she who made the killing of dragons a sport and
rewarded those that murdered my kith and kin. It will give me pleasure to watch her die.
Isabeau did not know what to say. She knew she could not allow Maya to die. She could not help thinking of her as Morag, her friend of the seashore, who had taught her about sand-scorpions and doom-eels and the flow of the tidis. Besides, Maya was Bronwen's mother and Isabeau could not be the one to deprive the little girl of that, having been motherless herself. She looked about her consideringly. They were in the long, flower-strewn meadow that stretched from the base of Dragonclaw down to the valley where the Rhyllster began to carve its way through the hills. Isabeau's eyes brightened, for this was familiar territory. She looked back at the dragon, and saw the dangerous glint of an eye through the slitted eyelid. Dragons were not noted for their mercy. Despite the centuries of friendship between her family and the great magical creatures, Isabeau dared not ask for assistance again. She bowed and said,
It gives me no pleasure to stand against your will, but I canna allow her to die. I was taught
always to heal and help, and swore I would never use my powers to harm another. I beg your
forbearance and hope that ye will forgive me.

Asrohc's tail swayed back and forth. Gracefully she rose and stretched, supple as a cat, and yawned again, showing rows of very sharp, pointed teeth.
My mother the queen says I must let thou do as
thou wishest, even though I abhor your weak human folly. She says the
Fairge queen has yet a role to play in this charade. So do as thou wilt, Isabeau NicFaghan, and
when thou wishest to fly the heavens again, call my name. I may come, if I am bored.
Isabeau bowed her head in acquiescence, though her spirits fell at Asrohc's cold tone. She watched as the dragon launched off into the sky, the long sinuous body rapidly dwindling as she soared toward the bent tip of Dragonclaw. Then Asrohc was gone, and the sky was empty again. Isabeau sighed and bent over Maya.

After a moment she straightened and looked about her. From a copse of trees at the edge of the meadow she called fallen boughs and green vines, and magically wove them together into a stretcher. Lifting Maya carefully onto its length, she picked up a small wooden chest that lay a few paces away and tucked it in beside her. Isabeau then cast out her mind until she located a herd of alpine goats clambering down from the mountain heights to graze in the sweet meadows. She called them to her and begged their help. Remembering her from the old days, when she had run barefoot with them over the rocks, they agreed to pull the stretcher for her. Using vines as reins, she harnessed them up and they dragged the injured woman through the fields.

The day was growing late when Isabeau at last reached the rocky ridge that hid Meghan's secret valley from the outside world. The cliff-face was dotted with caves. Most were shallow apertures that led nowhere, but a few penetrated deep into the rock. The goats helped her maneuver the stretcher up the ridge, then bounded away in a wave of mottled gray, tossing their horned heads. Isabeau dragged the stretcher inside the narrow mouth of the cave, then checked to make sure no one was watching. Even though these mountains were wild and remote, the occasional hunter penetrated its maze of ravines and gorges in search of snow lion or woolly bear, and she had been taught to take no chances. The meadow below was quiet, though, and so she pushed on into the darkness. Although Isabeau could see as well as an elven cat, the blackness within the mountain was so dense she had to conjure a witch's light to see. It hung before her, casting an eerie blue illumination over the fantastic stone formations that arched about her. There were thick, grooved pillars, taller than any tower. Clustered here and there on the ground were nests of gleaming pearls as big as hailstones, while rapier-thin hanging rods fell in tiers down the walls. Draping here and there were delicate lace shawls of stone, some rippled with pale color, most cloudy white. Here and there calcified tree roots hung down from the ceiling, weird and uncanny.

The stretcher was too unwieldy to drag through the caves, and so Isabeau untied the vines that bound Maya's unconscious body. With a great effort of will she raised Maya up until she floated before her, then pushed her along as if she was a boat upon water. The apprentice-witch had never used the One Power in this way before, and Isabeau found she was sweating, despite the chill within the caves. Down into the heart of the mountain she climbed, pausing often to rest. Some of the tunnels were so narrow and low that she had to creep, others so lofty she could not see the walls. Occasionally she could hear the babbling of water and once had to splash through an icy stream, the stone beneath her feet so slippery she had trouble keeping her feet. Otherwise all was quiet, with an aura of deep peace and mystery.

Isabeau had never known the secret ways through the mountain as well as Meghan, and she frequently had to stop to get her bearings. Remembering what the old sorceress had taught her, she laid her hands upon the stone walls, listening, trying to feel through her palms what lay beyond. Whenever she sensed a great darkness and density in one direction, she would choose that way at the next branching of the path. At last the steep descending gallery widened out and she sensed a vast space. Feeling rather giddy from her exertions, Isabeau raised the witch's light so cold radiance spread before her. She was standing at the edge of a huge cavern, its roof lost in shadows above her. An underground loch spread before her, its waters inky black. Every now and again a ripple spread, as if something stirred beneath its surface. All around her were tremendous columns and arches of limestone, intricate as any sculpture. At one end was a crystalline waterfall of stone, plunging hundreds of feet into the water. All round delicate white icicles hung like dragon's teeth, and the ground was frosted over with limestone flowers. The only sound was a slow dripping.

Maya floating beside her, Isabeau clambered over the slippery damp rocks. It was cold, and she huddled her plaid closer about her. Maya was ashen faced, her breathing rattling in her throat. Isabeau said a quick prayer to Ea and lowered the unconscious woman into the water. At the last moment, her control slipped and Maya fell with a splash. She sank out of sight and Isabeau's perturbation grew. She was just about to dive into the water in search of her when the water roiled, green bubbles bursting into life. She stared at them anxiously, suddenly afraid the underground loch contained some monster or serpent that would devour the unconscious woman. There was a flash of silver just under the surface, then a long tail with a great frilled fan broke through, splashing water into Isabeau's face. She stepped back with a cry of alarm.

From the depths a red velvet dress came floating.

Isabeau wrung her hands. "What have I done?" she cried. "Maya! Maya!" Then the waters parted and Maya shot out into the air. Her face was serenely smiling, her dark hair plastered to her skull. She rolled, water streaming from her silver-scaled body, and plunged again, her tail smacking the loch so spray drenched Isabeau from head to foot.

For a moment Isabeau could not believe what she had seen. She watched, flabbergasted, as Maya sported in the inky black waters, her body gleaming like pewter. She had seen Maya change shape before, when the former banrigh had dived into the heart of the Pool of Two Moons to escape Lachlan's vengeance. Then her wrists and ankles had been braceleted with flowing fins, like the frills the young lairds at court wore on the ends of their sleeves. She had seen the same fins on Bronwen when she gave the little banprionnsa her bath. She had never seen anyone with a tail like a fish before, however. Maya swam to the shore and floated there, looking up at Isabeau, her scaled arms moving through the water slowly. "Thank ye," she whispered. "I would have died if ye had no' brought me here." She looked up wonder-ingly at the arches of stone icicles, which looked like the closing jaws of some great monster.

"Where are we?" she said hoarsely. "How can this be, a sea beneath the ground?"