Redden watched as one of the wolves noticed him for the first time and turned his way. It slouched forward, shaggy head lowered, muzzle drawn back to show rows of gleaming teeth. Oriantha was too far away and there were four more wolves between him and her. Redden was on his own.
He again tried to summon the wishsong, and again he failed. The magic would not respond.
The wolf was crouching now, gathering itself, preparing to leap. Oriantha had thrown herself into the midst of the other wolves in an effort to break past them and reach him, but her effort was hopeless. Redden braced himself, fear racing through him, his nerves raw, his terror so strong it had eclipsed all sense of reason. He went down on one knee, fighting his panic, remembering his promise, his word, his determination …
The ogre stumbled back into view right in front of him, cutting off the wolf, then turned toward him as if it could smell his fear. Its face was all bloodied and torn, and it roared in dull recognition of what it had found and might now act against. Great hands groped outward, reaching down.
Abruptly, Redden’s voice exploded out of his throat, the wishsong a primal scream that gathered up the very air and turned it into a savage wind and changed particles of dust into deadly shards. Both tore into the ogre and the wolves, ripped them to shreds and threw them away.
Then Redden regained control of himself and stumbled forward, catching up with Oriantha. Her smooth feline face swung toward him momentarily, and there was satisfaction in her bright eyes. Teeth showed in an attempt at a smile, and the cat bolted ahead onto the open flats.
Redden stumbled after, trying not to look at what was left of the creatures he had just destroyed. He had that sick feeling again—the one had experienced in the Fangs when he had fought back against and destroyed his Goblin attackers—as if something had been stolen from him by using the wishsong this way.
They raced onto the flats and crossed toward a series of low hills marked by clusters of boulders and deep ravines. He was stumbling badly, but forced himself to keep his feet and press on. He glanced back once for pursuit. He could see movement at the perimeter of the camp, but no organized effort was giving chase. Maybe they had given up, he thought. Maybe what he had done to the ogre and the demon-wolves had been enough to discourage them.
He looked away again quickly and tried not to think about anything but keeping up with Oriantha.
Then suddenly Lada appeared, scurrying out from the rocks to greet them, darting this way and that, his eyes bright as he chattered and jumped about. For reasons Redden couldn’t explain, seeing the little Chzyk gave him such pleasure and generated such a strong feeling of hope that he almost wept in response.
“Lada,” he whispered as the Chzyk leapt onto his boot and off again in the blink of an eye.
The little creature chattered in response and darted away again.
Ahead, Tesla Dart popped out from between the rocks, hopping from foot to foot as if impatient with the whole business and in no mood for anything even approaching delay.
“That took a long time!” she snapped at Oriantha.
There was something of an apologetic look reflected in her rough, whisker-fringed features as she shifted her eyes to Redden. “Well,” she said, “it did.”
She started to say something more, became completely flustered, and made a dismissive gesture instead.
“We should get out of sight,” she said finally and turned away.
They hid in the rocks afterward while Oriantha, still in her animal form, licked her wounds with a long black tongue and Tesla Dart sat with Redden, talking softly. Now and again, one or the other would glance over the tops of their shelter to see if there was any activity from the demon camp, but there was still no sign of pursuit.
“Did they hurt you?” the Ulk Bog asked the boy.
“Some.”
“Nothing broken?”
“My pride. My confidence, a little.”
“You were frightened?”
He nodded.
“Tael Riverine is very dangerous. You were lucky.”
“More so than all the others that went with me.”
“He wants Grianne Ohmsford. He wants his Queen. You would bring her to him, he thinks.”
Redden stared. “Why would I do that? Even if I could, why?”
“You are her family. She would come to save you.”
The boy almost laughed. “She’s dead. A hundred years ago dead. If she weren’t, she wouldn’t come for me anyway. She doesn’t even know who I am. What is Tael Riverine thinking?”
The Ulk Bog squinted at him. “Family is important. Especially to the Straken Lord, who has no family. He wants children. She will give them to him.”
Redden shook his head. This argument was going nowhere. “He doesn’t care about Grianne and children. He wants to conquer the Four Lands. He wants to make us all slaves.”
Tesla Dart shrugged. “No one has ever escaped him. Just her. He thinks about nothing else. Everyone knows. He doesn’t want to look weak. Having her bear his children will help.”
“But he doesn’t need to bother with any of that.”
She gave him a look. “He needs what he doesn’t have, what he lost when he lost her. He will never quit searching for her.”
Oriantha had finished cleaning herself and had shape-shifted back to her old form. Pulling on the rest of her clothes and wrapping herself in her travel cloak, she took a quick look back at the enemy camp and said, “We have to be going. They’ll be coming for us.”
“Where do we go?” asked Tesla Dart.
They stared at one another for a moment. Until now, not much consideration had been given to the question.
“We should go to Arborlon,” Redden declared. “That’s where Railing and the others are likely to be. That’s where we can be safe.”
“We can be safe nowhere,” Tesla Dart muttered.
But they set out anyway, Oriantha in the lead, the other two following. They were undecided about how to go, aware of the danger with the demon army so close at hand. Traveling directly north would take them through the Tirfing to Rover communities where they could find an airship offering passage to Arborlon. Without air travel, it would take them days or even weeks to get to their destination. But the terrain north required they pass just to the rear of the attacking army, threatening to expose them in a way none of them was willing to risk. So after a hurried conference, they decided that the safest choice was to go back the way they had come, west toward the rent in the Forbidding until they found an opening in the folded landscape that would allow them to move safely out of sight to the north.
Oriantha had already decided that the attack on Arishaig would keep the enemy locked up where it was for at least another few days, which should give them time enough to make their way to safety. Tesla Dart, on the other hand, was not so sure.
“The battle will end today,” she announced. “The city will fall, the Straken Lord’s army will go elsewhere. Tael Riverine will see it done.”
“That city is heavily defended,” the shape-shifter argued. “It won’t be taken so easily.”
“Today,” the Ulk Bog repeated and refused to say more.
So even though there was a good deal of doubt about the Ulk Bog’s prognostication, it generated a fresh sense of urgency, and the little company moved ahead quickly.
Even so, the three companions had progressed no more than an hour, traveling mostly back toward the Forbidding to find passage north, when Tesla Dart brought them up short.
“Wait,” she cautioned, one hand raised. She sniffed at the air and listened intently for a long time. “We are tracked. Lada! Ari’sho trush!”
The Chzyk darted back in the direction from which they had come, even as the trio continued moving ahead. He was gone perhaps fifteen minutes before reappearing, racing across the barren landscape in a flash of dark movement, spines flaring out in warning. Tesla Dart dropped to one knee and bent close to the little creature as it charged up to her, and the two o
f them began chattering away in a mix of non-words and rough grunts.
The Ulk Bog rose swiftly, shaking her head. “This is bad. Tarwick hunts us with Goblins and wolves. The Straken Lord’s Catcher can find anything he wishes. We will not escape if we try running. Another way is needed.”
“An airship would give us a way,” Redden declared.
“The only airships near are those fighting in Arishaig.” Oriantha cocked an eyebrow. “You don’t want to go back there, do you?”
There was a moment’s silence. “Horses,” the boy said.
“No horses out here, either. This isn’t settled country. Not until we get to the Tirfing. We’re a day from there.”
“Too far!” Tesla Dart snapped.
“We can hide our trail,” Redden said, though in truth he had no idea how they could do this.
But Tesla Dart clapped her hands. “No, we can do better! We can hide where they do not think!” She paused, looking from one to the other, excitement etched on her rough features. “We can go back inside the Forbidding!”
Redden stared. Surely, he had not heard correctly. “What did you say? Go back inside the Forbidding? I am not going back inside the Forbidding again. Ever!”
“Wait.” Oriantha was suddenly interested. “How long would we have to stay?” she asked Tesla Dart.
The Ulk Bog grinned toothily at Redden. “You see? She knows what I do.” Her bright eyes shifted to the girl. “We go quick, then out again. Lose Tarwick in land of Jarka Ruus, if he comes for us, get out again closer to place you want. See?”
“You mean we go back in long enough to travel to where we can find another way out and then leave again?” Redden demanded, flushed and suddenly terrified. “But what if we can’t get out?”
“Lots of ways out! The wall crumbles many places. The magic is weakened. Can find ways for us, you see. Tarwick never catch us there. I know more than he does. Weka taught me. I can keep us safe.”
It was a huge gamble, but the boy also saw why it made sense. There was reason to believe the pursuit might end at the entrance back into the Forbidding. Would anyone reenter while the Straken Lord’s army was here? And Weka Dart had outfoxed the Straken Lord and his last Catcher in the time of Grianne Ohmsford. Maybe Tesla was similarly well informed.
But to go back into the Forbidding? Redden shivered, cold to his bones.
Oriantha moved around in front of him. “Let’s do it. It has to be safer than trying to outrun pursuit out here. We’re too far away from any help, and we have no one we can turn to. If we don’t find an airship or horses, we’ll be run down before the day is out.”
“You realize what you’re asking of me?” Redden snapped.
The girl leaned close. “No worse than what has been asked of you already.” She paused. “I will stand by you to the end.”
So we can both die together, Redden thought. But that was being small-minded and ungrateful. She was trying to reassure him. Clearly, she believed that this was their best chance.
He backed away from his anger and fear. She had not failed him so far. She had saved him when no one else could. She deserved his attention. And at this point, her judgment was admittedly better than his.
He took a deep breath and exhaled sharply, feeling all of the power that remained leaking out of him. “This nightmare is never going to end, is it?” he muttered. And without waiting for a reply, he started back toward the entrance into the Forbidding.
Twenty
Deep inside Arishaig’s walls, huddling in the shadows of the doorway to a shop that was closed and locked in the wake of the assault on the city, Arling Elessedil tried to decide what to do next. She had been running for two days, first from the crowds that swarmed the streets when the demon army appeared on the ridgeline and then from her own personal fears as she realized that the escape she had envisioned was now impossible. She had spent most of her time determining that this was so, running from one gate to the next to find all of them sealed and guarded, futilely tracking along the walls in search of other ways out, and finally stumbling exhausted through the streets in search of someone who might be able to help her. She hadn’t stopped moving in all that time, desperate for help and terrified that Edinja might find her. What rest she’d gotten had been taken in brief snatches, all too quickly ended.
Now, about an hour before sunset on the second day, she had reached the limit of her endurance and could go no farther. She settled down on the doorstep and leaned back against the door in despair, crying silently.
Then she fell asleep.
When the hands shook her awake and the voices whispered her name, she could barely make herself respond.
“Arling!” she heard.
“It’s all right. She’s just sleeping.”
She opened her eyes and found Aphen and Cymrian bending over her. She blinked hard several times, not quite able to believe they had found her—not even able to believe it was really them.
Then she reached quickly for Aphen, who took her in her arms and held her close.
“We’ve spent two days tracking you through the city,” Cymrian said, “but you kept moving. We would use the Elfstones to find where you were, but when we’d go there you were gone. We couldn’t manage to catch up with you. What were you doing?”
Arling shook her head. “Running. Trying to escape. Afraid I would be caught again.” She exhaled sharply, gasping out her words. “How did you get here? I thought I would have to come looking for you in the Westland.”
Aphen continued to hold her tightly, stroking her hair. “We caught up with those people who gave you over to the Federation. They told us what they had done. We were able to track you here using the Elfstones. Once inside the city, we began searching for you.”
“We knew where you were at first,” Cymrian interrupted. He crouched down next to the sisters. “But we couldn’t find a way to get inside Edinja’s house to free you. How did you get out?”
Arling managed a quick grin. “I escaped. I fooled Edinja into thinking I was hysterical and couldn’t do anything. She had me locked in a bedroom, but when the serving woman came in to drug me again I hit her over the head and went out the door. Edinja was gone. I threw on a travel cloak and went right out the front door. No one stopped me. I’ve been running ever since, but I couldn’t find a way out of the city.”
Aphen and Cymrian exchanged a quick look, but Arling just continued on. “She took me into the cellars and showed me what she was doing to people down there. She changes them. She makes them into monsters, things that aren’t human anymore. She wanted to scare me into helping her find you!”
Cymrian put his hand on Aphen’s shoulder. “We need to get out of sight. Let’s use this shop.”
He broke the lock and the three of them moved out of the alley and inside, closing the door behind them. They were in a storeroom filled with boxes and racks of clothing. Cymrian set about finding something Arling could change into while Aphen kept holding her sister close, letting her continue with her story of what had happened to her while she was Edinja’s prisoner.
“I thought at first I was a guest and she was taking care of me. I was told the airship that brought me was hers and the captain and crew had found no sign of either of you when they looked. I believed her. But then she started asking more questions and drugged me when I wouldn’t answer so that I couldn’t lie, and I had to tell her everything. Even about the Forbidding and the demons and the Ellcrys …”
She broke off, her face suddenly drained of color. “Aphen! I don’t have the seed anymore!”
Aphen released her, holding her out at arm’s length. “What do you mean? What happened to it?”
Arling was in tears. “I don’t know! I was unconscious when those people found me and then aboard the ship, too. I didn’t wake up until I was in Arishaig in Edinja’s house, and when I searched it was gone!”
“Then Edinja has it,” Cymrian declared.
“No, she doesn’t,” Arling said quickly. “She didn
’t know anything about it. When I told her about it after she gave me the drug, she kept trying to find out where it was, who might have taken it. It wasn’t the captain and crew. She’d imprisoned them in the cellars, and she’d done things to the captain, turned him into a monster so that …”
She broke off. “We have to find it, Aphen!” she said frantically. “I have to get it back!”
“I can’t find anything for her to wear in here,” Cymrian announced from across the room. “Bring her into the shop. We can search there. We need to change, as well. Look at us. We look like we’ve been attacked by feral cats.”
They moved out of the storeroom and into the front of the shop. The clothes on display were better organized and Cymrian quickly found garments they could change into. While Arling and Aphen did so, he moved to the windows and peered out.
“Quiet out there. No one about.” He scanned up and down the street. “Everyone’s gone into hiding.” He shook his head. “I don’t like their chances if they don’t get out of here soon. Or ours.”
“What do you mean?” Arling asked, lacing up her blouse and tightening the belt around her waist. She had wiped the tears and dirt away from her face and tied back her hair.
Cymrian looked at her. “We’ve watched the last two battles, and then we climbed up where we wouldn’t be noticed and took a look over the battlements. There’s an army of demonkind out there, obviously broken free of the Forbidding, and the Federation defenders aren’t going to be enough to stop it. They’ve nearly broken though Arishaig’s defenses twice.”