Her room was empty, save for one of the great cats, who was curled up asleep, occupying the whole of the neatly made bed. It lifted its head as he opened the door, and opened one lazy eye, yawning to show a truly fearsome collection of sharp and gleaming fangs. Though Forral was fairly sure it wouldn’t hurt him, he backed out hastily nonetheless. Aurian was a fool to trust these dangerous wild animals as she did, and the swordsman had too much sense to follow her example and take risks with beasts of such vast size and power.—A quick search of the kitchen and community caverns told Forral all he needed to know. He raced to the door of Zanna’s quarters and began to hammer on it loudly. After a few moments Tarnal answered, barefoot and clad only in breeches, his brown eyes glinting with fire. “What the bloody blazes is going on, man? Have you been drinking? You’ve wakened the children!”
“Where’s Aurian?” the swordsman demanded. “Where has she gone?”
“How should I know?” the smuggler demanded irritably. “In bed if she’s got any sense—where we all should be... .”
But over Tarnal’s shoulder, Forral caught a glimpse of Zanna, in her nightgown and with a shawl around her shoulders, peering tentatively from behind the curtain that led to the sleeping quarters. With an oath, he shouldered his way past the young smuggler and wrenched the curtain aside to confront the Nightrunner woman. “Where is she, Zanna? Curse you, woman, tell me!”
Even in his new body Forral was very much the bigger and stronger of the pair, but Zanna stood her ground. “Aurian asked me to see her past the sentries. She told me not to tell anyone where she went—and I promised,” she said firmly.
“Now look here Anvar, or Forral or whoever you are.” Tarnal put himself between the pair, his voice low with anger. “How dare you come barging in here in the middle of the night, threatening my wife? Get out of here right now, or I’ll put you out.”
The old brawny Forral would have laughed at such a threat, but Tarnal, though wiry, was strong and fit from hauling on rope and oar, and the swordsman wasn’t entirely confident of his ability to handle his new body if it came to a fight. Besides, looking at it through the eyes of the two smugglers, his anxiety about the Mage had made him act like an ill-mannered lout.... Backing up a step, Forral held out a hand in apology. “I’m sorry Zanna, Tarnal. But Aurian’s bed hasn’t been slept in, and if she’s been away all night she may have got herself into some kind of trouble. I only want to assure myself that she’s in no danger.”
He managed to summon a smile. “Come on Zanna,” he coaxed. “Think how you’d feel if Tarnal had vanished who-knows-where. Wouldn’t you be worried? And if she’s been gone all night, then surely I’m far too late to interfere with whatever she had planned? It wouldn’t do any harm to tell me now, would it?”
“I have to admit, Zanna, that Forral has a point,” Tarnal put in. “Aurian has been away for hours now. If she has managed to get herself into danger, I wouldn’t like to think we just stood by and did nothing.”
Zanna frowned thoughtfully. “Very well,” she said at last. “You’re right—I don’t see what harm it could do now. Aurian went to the hallow.”
“What?” Tarnal shouted. “And you let her?”
“The standing stone?” Forral asked in puzzlement. “What’s the significance of that?”
“Aurian said it was a matter of great urgency. She knows what she’s doing,”
Zanna insisted, answering her husband. “She can take care of herself—and besides, Shia went along to guard her.”
“What is this about the stone?” Forral bellowed. “Someone tell me what’s going on!”
“It’s magic. It’s dangerous. We don’t go near it,” Tarnal said tersely, struggling into a tunic and belting on his sword. “Zanna, you must have lost your mind letting her go up there. Come on, Forral—we’d better go and find her.”
“I’m coming too.”
Forral and Tarnal spun to see Grince standing in the doorway. “How long have you been there?” the swordsman demanded.
“You woke me with all that yelling.” The thief looked at Forral gravely. “The Lady Aurian was kind to me. If she’s in some kind or danger, then I want to help.”
Forral shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He strode off down the passage, leaving the others to follow as they might.
Although Forral did not count himself a cowardly man, he was unable to suppress a shudder of awe as he set foot on the sloping turf of the hallow.—Last night’s wind had dropped and the sky was pale with cold, predawn light.—The flat sea below him was the color of iron and lost dreams. On the hill above, he could see the top of the tall stone, towering black and sinister against the dreary sky. There was no sign of Aurian.
“She must be at the top,” Tarnal muttered, as though he had read the swordsman’s mind. “We wouldn’t see her from here.”
“No, but she would see us,” Forral replied doubtfully. “Which must mean either that she’s hiding something from us, or she’s hurt in some way, and can’t call out.” Without another word, he set off quickly up the slope.
A finger of blood-red light touched the top of the standing stone as the rim of the sun reared itself above the horizon. A hawk swooped low over the swordsman’s head and hovered over the top of the stone, hunting the small creatures of the dunes. Forral was unconcerned with such details. As he reached the brow of the hill and came in sight of the summit, he encountered a sight to chill his blood. Aurian’s body lay on the ground beside the stone, composed as if for burial with her hands clasping the Staff of Earth at her breast. The great cat was standing over her, guarding her seemingly lifeless form.
The swordsman acted without thinking. With no sight for anything but the Mage, and no thought of her guardian, he ran toward Aurian, calling her name. Shia’s head came round. She left the Mage and stalked, stiff-legged, toward him, snarling menacingly. Swearing, Forral slowed his pace and drew his sword. The cat circled warily, her blazing, baleful eyes never leaving his face. Tarnal tried to creep past her while her attention was fixed on the swordsman, but the cat sprang toward him with a growl, forcing him into a swift retreat. The thief had vanished—the little rat probably ran away, Forral thought. While Shia was distracted, Forral had managed to get a few steps closer to the Mage.—She darted back toward him, trying to watch the two men at once.
“Stay away from her!”
“What?” Forral shook his head. Where had that voice come from? It sounded nothing like Tarnal. Had he imagined it?
“Stay back, human! If you disturb her body while she walks Between the Worlds, Aurian may die!”
Glancing past the threatening cat, Forral saw the thief creeping out from behind the great stone. While the others were preoccupied, he had worked his way around the back of the hill and crept up behind Shia. He reached Aurian, knelt over her still form, and took her hand. His voice came clearly to the swordsman in the stillness of the dawn:
“Come back, Lady! Don’t leave us now—come back, please.”
Then everything seemed to happen at once. With a savage snarl, Shia sprang at the thief, knocking him away from the Mage and bowling him over on the grass.—Dark clouds came boiling across the sky on an icy wind from the north, and gathered in a dark, coiling mass, the color of a bruise, right above the stone. The air turned icy cold, and stinging flurries of hail and sleet blew across the exposed hilltop. With an ominous rumble, the monolith stirred and shifted, rocking back and forth on its base. The Mage’s body gave a convulsive heave, and a great breath sucked into her lungs with a ghastly wheezing sound.—Her eyes, huge with panic, shot open, and her staff rolled away as she tried to rise, grasping frantically at the air with empty hands. The hawk that had hovered above the hill came plummeting down from the sky as though shot, and thudded to the turf close to Aurian’s outstretched hand.