Brie rose and crossed to Rilla. Under the girl's arm was a small bundle. Brie gently removed it, and, carefully untying the strings, she looked inside to see hundreds of the little panners. The colors glittered jewel-like in the light of the burning buildings. Retying the bundle, she thrust it into her pack. The flames around her were getting higher and more fierce, so she swung her pack onto her back and ran.
***
Later, by a small stream, Brie splashed her face with cold water, shivering though the night was warm. She left her tunic soaking, Rilla's blood washing away in the clear flowing water.
Brie reached into her pocket and drew out Rilla's panner. Pictured on the small disk was a bow stave that was plainly Brie's, and flying from it, in an arc over what looked to be water, was the fire arrow.
Brie caught her breath. She had not shown Rilla the arrow. She had never left her quiver unattended, and, even if she had, she did not believe Rilla was the sort to look through her things.
Was Rilla perhaps a wyll? Aelwyn had not said so. But then why the picture on the panner? Was it a dream? Or a prophecy?
A faint rustling caught Brie's attention, and she looked up. Two gabha were not fifty yards downstream, running toward her.
Brie grabbed her wet tunic, pack, and quiver, and ran. The goat-men were swift, but Brie managed to keep ahead of them. She found herself pounding back along the path that bordered Lake Or, moving away from the mountains.
There was a tremendous boom and the ground under her shook. Just ahead a column of blue flame exploded upward, sending plumes of light into the still-dark sky.
Brie rounded a corner and there was the scree, behind which lay the porth into Tir a Ceol. Against the face of the scree danced large tongues of blue-white flame.
Then Brie stumbled, tripping over the bodies of two dead goat-men. Their faces were blackened as if from the fire. She jumped to her feet and continued to run.
The gabha who pursued Brie burst onto the path. They let out brays of rage on seeing their fallen comrades and lunged after her. She ran hard toward the place she had entered the porth, praying she would be able to slip through without Monodnock's help. But even as she came to the slit in the rock, a bony hand closed over her wrist and pulled her through.
"Stand away," came the Ellyl's whisper. His face looked even paler than usual in the gloom, and his limbs seemed to be trembling.
Breathing hard, Brie sank to her knees. She watched as the gangly Ellyl leaned toward the entrance. He rested his hands and face against the rock wall. Then there was another booming sound and Monodnock fell back onto his rear with a small whimper, his skinny legs flailing. Brie quickly crossed to him.
"You are most kind, dearest maiden," Monodnock said, in a voice that shook, his hand fluttering in Brie's direction. He drew out a large floral handkerchief to wipe his brow, but his hand was trembling so hard that he almost missed his face altogether.
"Dreadful creatures," he said. "Do you know what they sought to do?"
Brie shook her head.
"Seal the porth."
"Seal it?"
Monodnock nodded vigorously. "It is unheard of. And where they got the draoicht...! Gabha aren't supposed to have any draoicht. Well, I can't be expected to fight off hordes of goat-men with draoicht."
"I saw only two. And the two after me."
"Just the beginning."
"Perhaps you ought to send word to King Midir."
"Of course." Monodnock brightened a little. "And he will send reinforcements, though goodness knows I haven't the room to accommodate very many Ellylon in my humble dwelling..."
Brie crossed to the crack in the rock and tried peering out to see what had happened to the gabha who had pursued her. She thought she saw two more bodies lying on the path.
"Monodnock," she said, interrupting the Ellyl's ruminations on how he would house Ellyl reinforcements. "I must get to Dungal."
"Oh, no, most lovely maiden, you must not think of going to Dungal, not now, with the foothills crawling with those vile creatures. And I just had word yesterday, from a passing Ellyl, that there is something odd going on in Dungal. What was it? Oh dear, all this excitement has quite driven it out of my mind. Something to do with fish." He squinted his silver eyes shut in an effort to remember.
"Fish?"
"Yes, fish. I'm sure of it. Oh, oh, now I remember. It appears that something is killing off the fish in Dungal. No one knows what. And I have to say this is indeed a calamity. From what I've heard, fish is the only thing they know how to cook there. The rest is all quite hideous: meat with no sauce of any kind, potatoes, and stringy, limp vegetables.
And then there are those enormous mountains to get through. So, please, do not think of going to Dungal, not for one more moment."
"I'm afraid I must." She looked up at Monodnock hopefully. "I don't suppose there is a way to Dungal through Tir a Ceol?"
"As a matter of fact there is."
Brie's expression brightened.
"Though you would need to be a decent swimmer. It is all underwater. A hundred miles or so."
"I see."
"Now if that doesn't suit you, there is, at least, a very pleasant shortcut through the first mountain. Inside it, in fact. It is a bit cramped, but it takes you all the way through into Sura's Gorge, and well past those gabha I've observed watching the pathways into the Blue Stacks. But please, most charming, graceful, and highborn lady, rethink this absurdly dangerous quest."
"I would be very grateful for your help; Monodnock."
The Ellyl sighed. "Very well. Follow me."
***
To call this a "bit cramped," Brie thought some time later, was far too generous. She had been in small spaces before and had not thought of herself as particularly uncomfortable in them, but never before had she been crushed between two walls of cold, jagged rock. She tried to breathe slowly and evenly, convincing herself that there was sufficient air to keep her alive a little while longer. After all, Monodnock wouldn't take her where she would be likely to suffocate. That is, if he did not forget that Eirrenians need more air than Ellylon.
They inched forward. Brie willed herself not to ask if they were almost there. Better, perhaps, not to know.
There camera time, though, when she could not push down the panic any longer, when Brie realized that even if she turned back she would still be trapped, flattened between enormous slabs of crushing rock for hours to come. A cold sweat broke out on her skin.
"Monodnock," she whispered to keep from screaming. "How much longer?"
"Not much. Relaxing, isn't it? Nothing I enjoy better than feeling this good solid rock right up against me. Just look at the texture..." He held up a dim light. Brie tried to concentrate on the whorls and ridges of the rock surface. Her chest felt ready to explode.
"Uhp ... Here we are." Monodnock stepped down into an open space and Brie followed, sinking gratefully to her knees. She closed her eyes and took several deep draughts of air.
"Oh, my dear lady, you look quite peaked," Monodnock said with concern. "Shall we rest?"
"Perhaps a moment or two," Brie replied dryly.
"Very well. I could do with a snack." Monodnock pulled out a small wedge of brisgein—an Ellyl delicacy made of stalks of heather and silverwood—and offered one to Brie. She took it, her hand shaking only a little.
"Oh, dear maiden." Monodnock pressed a hand to his heart. "It makes me quite ill to think of you, with danger pressing on all sides. If only I were free to journey with you, be your champion, vanquish the devils who beset you!" Then he stood straight up, pulling his lanky frame into a heroic pose and rubbing his orange hair into a frenzy of spikes.
"Alas, you are not free," said Brie, casting her face down to hide the smile. "But I will always be in your debt for your many kindnesses."