The Golden Key (Book 3) (35 page)

11

After Darby returned her books, Embril rested. There would
have to be a decision about Giorge and his mother, and if they were to go with
them, she would have more spells to cast. She needed to rest, but she wasn’t tired.
Her thoughts strayed to Angus, and each time they did, she felt a great pang of
anxiety and quickly thrust them aside. She didn’t know
why
she had
thrust those thoughts aside, but she couldn’t help herself. It was a good
thing, since Angus was probably dead, and every time that thought crept up, her
stomach tightened and her eyes watered—and then the thought was swept aside and
she could focus again.

She sighed. It would be easier if she had something to do,
but she didn’t. The spells would have to wait until Lieutenant Jarhad returned.
It would be his decision, and there was nothing she could do about it until
then. She frowned. He should have been back by now, shouldn’t he? He had only
gone to do a little reconnaissance up to the river, and then he was going to
come back again. It should have only taken a few hours at most, but he had been
gone more than half a day. What could have delayed him?

She stood up and stretched. She had been sitting down too
long, and she needed to move around. She walked aimlessly through the cavern,
reciting the mantra as she went. It was a soothing mantra, but something about
it wasn’t quite right. It was as if the magic within her was
too
pliable,
too
receptive to it, and that thought should have distracted
her from it. But it didn’t. Instead of following the curious thought where it
might lead her, she simply acknowledged it was there and returned to the mantra
until the thought resurfaced again—and then she dismissed it again.

While she ambled, her mind fairly clear and focused, she saw
the box Giorge had dropped. She moved up to it and bent down. What was in it?
Where had he gotten it? It was an ornate box, stained a chocolate color with
silver studs, quite pretty and no-doubt expensive. Had Giorge stolen—
acquired
—it?
Isn’t that what Angus had said about him? That Giorge
acquired
things
from other people when they weren’t watching? If that’s the case, who had he
taken it from? Symptata?

Does it matter?
she asked herself.
It’s his box,
not yours.
She held it out in front of her and studied it for a few more
seconds. Then she lowered it to her side and turned to the tunnel. She would
have to ask him about it. She strode steadily, with purpose, but when she
exited the tunnel, she stopped. There was a considerable amount of commotion
around an outcropping just inside the cave entrance, and it broke off and moved
rapidly toward her. As it approached, it said, “Embril.” It was Lieutenant
Jarhad. “We have a problem.”

Embril was completely calm as she asked, “Of what sort,
Lieutenant?”

“We can’t see our gear or horses,” he said. “If it weren’t
for the horses finding each other, I would have lost my men in those trees. The
concealment there is nearly complete. There is no way we will be able to work
together during battle.”

Embril blinked. She had not anticipated such a difficulty
when she had conceived of the plan; she was only concerned about getting across
the plateau as quickly as possible without being noticed. She had not thought
about engaging in battle, and even if she had, she wouldn’t have realized how
important it would be to see each other. It was a foolish oversight, perhaps,
but what did it matter? She shrugged and said, “Fortunately, this is a
reconnaissance mission.”

The outcropping stood as still as stone for a long moment
and then Lieutenant Jarhad said, “We still need to see each other so we can
stay together. In here, the stones look somewhat out of place, especially when
they move, but out there it’s different. The spell shifts with the scenery and
we resemble swaying branches, shadows, pockets of greenery—things that
naturally
move when the wind blows. It makes it far more difficult to see each other,
even when we know we’re there.”

Embril shrugged. “The horses will stay together,” she said.
“They will follow where the monarch goes. Have her rider set the pace and
direction, and tell everyone else to give their horses their heads. They will
follow her.”

What was wrong with the Lieutenant? He should know that,
shouldn’t he? Why was he upset, anyway? If
he
couldn’t see them when he
knew they were there, then
no one else
would, either. The only reason
the horses were able to locate each other was because they used more than their
sense of sight to interact with each other.

“And when we need to eat?” Lieutenant Jarhad asked, his tone
derisive.

Embril shrugged. “I recall where my gear is,” she said.
“Don’t you?”

The outcropping shook for a moment and then demanded, “What
of them? How long will it take to conceal them for the trip?”

“Half an hour,” she said. “Which horse will they ride?”

“They’ll be doubling up with two of my men,” he said. “Does
it matter which ones?”

Embril nodded. “Yes,” she said. “I will need to weave them
into their spells. It would be easier to have them be a separate spell, but the
conflict between the concealing images will be noticeable.” She paused and
looked at Giorge and his mother. He was considerably smaller than herself, and
his mother was tiny, almost childlike. Perhaps they could both ride with her?
She hadn’t cast the concealment spell for herself or her horse yet, and they
could
ride together without overburdening the steed. “No,” she said. “It will be
simpler and easier to have them both ride with me.”

“You?” Lieutenant Jarhad scoffed. “The way you ride?”

Embril fought the urge to scowl as she said, “Yes. This
time, there will be nothing under the saddle blanket.” She turned away and held
the box out to Giorge. “You dropped this in the cavern,” she added. “It seemed
to be important to you.”

“What are you going to do to us?” his mother asked.

“You are going with us,” Lieutenant Jarhad said as the
outcropping turned away.

“I need you two to come with me,” Embril said, then she
moved to the only horse that looked like a horse in the cave, neighed softly to
it, and led it into the tunnel. “Bring the pack beast,” she added.

“What pack beast?” Giorge asked as he hesitated and looked
around.

Embril turned and called, “Tobar?”

“Here,” a stalagmite said as it stepped up to Giorge with a
large bolder in tow. Giorge jumped and held out his hand. Then he and his
mother stepped in behind Embril and followed her into the tunnel, the bolder
clacking softly behind them.

12

Leslie was not like the other horses. She had been trained
for battle when Hobart had bought her, and they had waged war together for
years before he had left the service. That training and her familiarity with
Hobart saved them both.

“Hold!” Hobart shouted a few seconds before striking
Leslie’s rear legs. She responded instantly by bringing herself to a rigid stop
and turning to look back at him. She braced herself for the impact, and Hobart
flexed his knees to soften the blow when he struck her. She stood firm and
waited for his next command. It gave him enough time to use her leg for
leverage, and he pulled himself up to his feet. He clung to her tail as he
said, “Easy step forward.”

She took a half-step forward and stopped. When he had his
balance again, he gave the same order. They continued their slow descent until
they were both on the rise blocking the stream. The top of the rise was fairly
dry, and once they were on the softer grade beyond, it widened enough for
Hobart to step around to the front of Leslie. He had to hang on to the saddle
to maintain his balance, but once there, he hugged her neck and said, “Good
girl.”

She whinnied softly and nuzzled him, and then Ortis was
standing beside him.

“I can walk no further,” Hobart said. “But I can ride the
rest of the way if you help me into the saddle.”

Ortis nodded and a few minutes later his other self was
there to help. “We lost two more horses,” he said, once Hobart had a stable
perch. “Let’s not lose any more of them.”

Hobart nodded. Millie had been an excellent steed, and
Giorge would be saddened by her loss if he hadn’t already died. “We’ll need to
reclaim the saddles and gear when we reach bottom,” he said. “It will be on our
way to Ned’s cave.”

Ortis nodded. “I’ve reached Dagremon’s. She was surprised to
see me and has lots of questions. I’m going to rest before I start back with
the supplies. My horse needs it as much as I do.”

“All right,” Hobart said. “Let’s hope Ned has something we
can eat. Otherwise, you’ll have to do some hunting.”

“Game will be sparse down there,” Ortis said as he moved
forward and took hold of Gretchen’s reins. He lifted himself into her saddle
and urged her forward at a slow, steady walk.

Hobart fell into place behind him, and the second Ortis took
up the rear guard position. There were only three of them left. Hobart frowned;
Ortis and he were all that remained of the banner, and they had lost too many
horses. He could replace the horses easily enough—he still had the gems Angus
had gotten from selling that book—but what was the point? He was going to be in
the Western Kingdoms for the rest of the year, and he wasn’t sure if he would
even come back. Would Ortis go with him? Did he even want Ortis to go? Did he
even want to continue the banner at all? He could sell what remained of the
banner’s property and retire to some village or other where they would
appreciate having a veteran like himself living among them. Someplace on the
fringes of the kingdom near an outpost where things sometimes happened. That
would be the life, wouldn’t it? Security most of the time with occasional
incidents to get the blood flowing.

Hobart sighed and hunched forward. He needed to stay in the
saddle, and it wouldn’t be easy to do that if he wasn’t paying attention. He
would have to dig the saddle straps out of his gear the next time they stopped.
He let Leslie have her head and concentrated on staying alert enough to keep
from falling out of the saddle. After a few minutes, he let the world around
him fade into the periphery and dropped into a near-sleep state, one in which
he was aware of Leslie’s movements and how they kept the funny-looking dwarves from
attacking.

Time passed quickly, and then Ortis called a stop. They were
down at the bottom of the cliff, and he had found Millie.

13

Two days at a hard gallop had taken its toll on Embril, and
she was relieved when Lieutenant Jarhad reined them in for the night. It would
only be for a few hours, but it would be enough time to apply Darby’s ointment,
eat, and take a nap. The mantra had kept her alert so far, but it was only a
short-term remedy. She needed a full night’s sleep, and it couldn’t be
postponed much longer. Fortunately, they were making even better time than she
had expected; Lieutenant Jarhad had kept them riding deep into the night and
made them leave before dawn. It was a wise decision; the spells would unravel
soon.

When she dismounted, she clung to the horse’s mane and
leaned heavily against it until her legs were hers again. Behind her, Giorge
hopped off as if he were born to the saddle, stretched once, and then assisted
his mother to the ground. She staggered and leaned against Giorge for support,
and a soft moan escaped from her. Embril cringed. She knew what that moan
meant, and there was something she could do for her.

“Stay with me, Magdel,” Embril said. “I have something that
will ease your discomfort.” But did she have enough of the ointment left? She
had been using it quite liberally, perhaps even more than Darby would have
recommended, and there might not be enough left for both of them. Still, there
was only one more day of hard riding, and if she was desperate she could turn
into a horse again.

“Darby! Elmer!” the Lieutenant called out from ahead of
them. At first, she ignored him, but then she remembered that
she
was
Elmer and sighed. “The Lieutenant is calling for me,” she said as she reached
into one of the many pockets in her robe. She took out the little jar of
ointment, and then brought the magic a bit sharper into focus so she could see
the two shapes beside her. “Here,” she said, slipping the jar into the smaller
one’s hand. “This ointment will help, but use it sparingly. We have more riding
to do tomorrow, and I am also in need of it.”

“Thank you,” Magdel said as she accepted the jar.

Embril turned and hurried forward. She knew the Lieutenant
by his size; there was only one other man in his patrol who was taller than he
was, and that man was much bulkier. The portly outline of magic beside him was
clearly Darby; none of the other men could match his girth. “Lieutenant?” she
said as she half-waddled up to them.

“How long will these spells last?” he asked. “Darby tells me
they’re already unraveling. Whatever that means.”

Embril nodded. It was a pointless gesture, since they
couldn’t see her, but it was made out of habit. “All spells begin to unravel
once they have been woven. Magic does not like to be confined.” She focused
intently and studied how the magic was fluctuating around the two men. They had
been the first two to receive the spells, and they should be the first to have
them fail. There were chinks in the magic surrounding them, but the knots were
still holding the spells together. How long they would remain intact was
unclear, but there was little she could do to maintain them. Hours? A day? Two?
She decided on a conservative estimate and said, “They will likely fail
sometime tomorrow afternoon, perhaps a bit earlier than that.”

Lieutenant Jarhad’s magical outline nodded as he said, “All
right. I’ll need you to go with me tonight. We will be checking out the fires,
and if anything happens with your spells, I’ll need you there help to get us
back. You can do that, can’t you?”

Embril frowned. She
needed
sleep—and
wanted
the ointment. “How far are we going?”

“To the river,” he replied. “At the pace we’re traveling, it
will only take a few hours to get there.”

“If we go near the fires,” Embril muttered, “we’ll suffer
from the Tween Effect—or worse. Are you sure it is worth risking?”

Lieutenant Jarhad shifted position. “Yes,” he said. “We have
orders to find out what is tending to those fires. If it’s the fishmen, we need
to be prepared to deal with them and their mushrooms. If it’s not them, we need
to know what’s causing the Tween Effect. Either way, we’re going.”

Embril scowled, knowing that the Lieutenant couldn’t see
her, and shook her head. It didn’t matter to her what was making the Tween
Effect; if they got too close to the fires the mushrooms’ smoke could kill
them—or worse, they might get so paranoid that they would kill each other. Even
without the mushrooms, she and the Lieutenant had a strained, adversarial
relationship. What would the paranoia do to that? There had to be a better way
than riding up to the fires to see what was going on, but what was it?

“Well?” Lieutenant Jarhad demanded as he turned. “Bring your
horse and join me.” Once he was mounted, he turned and said, “Darby, you will
be in charge until we return. Rest for a few hours in that clearing—” he
pointed at an opening in the trees about a quarter mile off the road “—then
continue on this road until the spells give out. Make camp at the edge of the
forest and wait for us there. Conceal yourselves as best you can. If we don’t
rejoin you within three days, complete the mission.”

“Yes, Sir,” Darby said, turning away and calling out,
“Tobar! Tend the horses. The rest of you, eat and rest in that clearing. Three
hours!”

Embril didn’t go back to her horse. Instead, she looked at
Lieutenant Jarhad waiting on his horse and thought about what she could do if
the spells were lost. There was the Cloaking spell, of course; she could cast
that from memory if she needed to, but she was in no shape for casting
four
of them and she had never tried it on a horse before. Or someone else. Could
she do it? A few hours by horse at a hard gallop? That wasn’t very far, really.
Perhaps….

“Tell me, Lieutenant,” she said. “Are you afraid of
heights?”

The Lieutenant shifted in his saddle and looked in her
general direction. “What do you mean?”

Embril rolled her eyes and asked, “Are you afraid of
heights? Did it bother you when I held you out over the canyon?”

“Of course it bothered me!” he snapped. “You could have
dropped me!”

Embril shook her head. “That’s not what I meant,” she
clarified. “When you looked down, did it make you uncomfortable? Did the height
make you dizzy? Were you disoriented or nauseous? Did it cause you any
physical
discomfort?”

Lieutenant Jarhad’s horse shuffled its feet as he turned it
sideways and leaned forward. “No,” he snapped. “And if you’re thinking—”

“How would you like to fly, Lieutenant?” she asked. “We can
make it to the river and back just as quickly, and we should be able to see
what’s by the fires without getting too close to the smoke. It would greatly
reduce the likelihood of being affected by the mushrooms.”

Lieutenant Jarhad fell silent for a long moment, and then
asked, “Flying? Like what you did when you flew across that canyon?”

“Yes,” she replied. “We can leave the horses behind, do the
reconnaissance, and then return to the horses and catch up with the others. If
the spells concealing us fail, we will have a much better chance of escape than
we would if we were riding the horses.” She could cast the Flying spell on
herself easily enough without practice, but what about Lieutenant Jarhad? He
didn’t know how to fly, and she didn’t have time to teach him. Could she
incorporate him into
her
spell and
carry
him? Maybe they should
tie a rope between them so he wouldn’t get lost? If he started flapping his
arms….

“It would go more quickly if we didn’t have to ride around
the trees,” he mused. “You’re sure it will work?”

No,
Embril thought, almost laughing to herself. “I’m
sure
I
could do it,” she said. “If you trust me and listen to my
directions, then you should be able to do it, too.” She paused and thought for
a long moment. “However, it would be easier to cast the spell without the other
spells being wrapped around us. We may need to abandon them, and that would
make it more time-consuming to rendezvous with the others. I won’t know for
sure until I try to cast the spell.”

Lieutenant Jarhad thought for several seconds, and then
said, “All right. Try it with these spells intact. If that works, fine. If not,
I can always send Darby and Tobar to check out the fires.”

“I will need about half an hour to prepare,” Embril said.
“And I will need Darby’s assistance,” she added as she shifted her weight and
felt the protest from the lingering welts on her thighs.

The outline of Lieutenant Jarhad nodded as he turned his
horse and led it toward the clearing. She walked after him, wondering if Darby
had any more of his ointment handy….