The woman’s face went ashen as those words struck at her like a sword-thrust. Her mount shrieked, a sound no natural horse had ever uttered, and turned, rocks and sod spurting from beneath its hooves as it raced away.
“By the Amber Lady!” I turned at Joisan’s exclamation to see her arch her brows in feigned shock, then grin wryly at the Shaman’s rapidly disappearing figure. “One would think she’d never heard anyone swear before.”
I began to chuckle. “Your pardon, my dear. I forgot myself. It’s been long and long since anyone—man or woman—rubbed my temper so sorely.”
“How did you know what would chase her off?” Guret asked.
“The same way I ‘knew’ what would vanquish the well,” I made answer. “Which is to say, I acted solely by instinct, with no forethought. Besides, Nidu might well have been able to front and vanquish what I sent against her—but her horse decided otherwise.”
Guret looked at me squarely. “I know not magic, nor words of Power, m’lord, but I do horses. Whatever that… thing… was, it was not a horse.”
“I agree that it was only that by outward seeming.” I nodded. “What then, was it?”
“A Keplian. A Soulless One, who travels in the seeming of a stallion,” Joisan replied absently, gazing through the entrance to the rolling foothills beyond, where Nidu and her unearthly mount had vanished.
“Where did you hear of such?” I asked.
“Old legends, old tales,” she said. “It is said to be a harbinger of death, for one who sees or trafficks with it.”
A shiver worked its way along my spine, crawling upward with icy little claws. “Do you think she will be back?” I asked.
“Oh, yes,” she replied calmly—her very lack of emotion the more chilling than overt fear would have been. “Nidu is not the sort to give up what she wants.”
“Which is why I am leaving,” Guret said, urging Vengi forward, crowding Nekia aside in the narrow passageway. “I will ride for the camp, give my message to Jonka in person, and let her tell the Shaman I refuse to be Drummer of Shadows.”
I made a quick motion to grab his arm, but Joisan was even swifter as her hand closed on his chestnut’s rein. “No!” we said as one.
“Don’t be a fool, Guret!” I said. “It is not just your service she wants, but your spirit. You must not!”
“Even if you go, she will not leave us alone.” Joisan’s eyes were very level, despite her pallor. “She is not one to endure slights easily, and both Kerovan and I have bested her, now. She will not turn aside from her revenge just for you.”
The young man’s mouth was a grim line as he shaded his eyes against the scarlet-dyed rays of sunset. “If what you say is true, then my proper place is here, to help you against her, and whatever she may try to unleash. Still, I could find it in me to wish that I had done as she demanded in the first place, no matter what price it meant tor me. Not for anything would I have had this happen…”
I absentmindedly smoothed Nekia’s mane. “We had best return before the last of the light is gone. We need clear heads to plan our defenses, and none of us has broken fast since the morning.”
“Well said, my lord,” Joisan agreed. “I will start back to Kar Garudwyn, prepare food from our gleanings… I am a bit tired. Perhaps you and Guret should patrol the valley borders to make sure there are no paths down from the heights for Nidu to discover.”
I was troubled and not by any thought of the Shaman, “Joisan, you have been tired overmuch lately. Are you weary?
She hesitated for a second, then her small, pointed chin came up as she smiled. “Completely, my lord.”
“But—”
She interrupted me briskly. “I am the healer in this company, Kerovan, and you may rest assured I take no chances with anyone’s well-being, least of all my own. When we are sure that Nidu cannot enter the valley, that we are safe, then there will be a time for talking. We are all looking a bit worn after our journey.”
What she said was true, making such good sense there was no arguing with it. Yet I found myself watching her as she cantered Arren away, back up the faint trail our horses’ hooves had left, truly worried for the first time since we had found Landisl’s ancient home.
When the last flick of Arren’s russet-colored tail had disappeared, I turned, only to find Guret watching me with some of the same intensity that I had fixed on Joisan. “Guret,” I said, slowly, looking directly at the young man’s plain, sturdy features beneath his unruly thatch of dark hair, “does aught strike you as… unusual… about the Lady Joisan since we returned from the scout?”
He shrugged, turning to slap a fly that had lighted on Vengi’s sweating crest. “Nothing to speak of, m’lord. Why?”
“I don’t know,” I said, studying him. “But I will speak of it later, to her, tonight.” I caught his swift, sideways glance, and was even more certain that something was afoot, something well-known to Guret.
“For the moment,” I finished, “let us divide the valley. I will take the western walls, you the eastern. Make this a quick scout, for dark is not far off. We can explore more thoroughly tomorrow.”
He gave me a quick salute of acknowledgment, turning his stallion to the east. Tightening my leg muscles against Nekia’s right side, I headed for the western boundary of the valley. I rode at the fastest jog I dared, my eyes on the rocky walls and forested slopes to my left, letting the mare pick her way. I sighted a few faint scars of trails, but none that I found particularly threatening—unless Nidu’s “Keplian” mount had the balance and agility of a mountain crag-deer or pronghorn.
Guret was waiting for me when, after turning Nekia loose to graze with the other mounts, I reached the rampway to the stronghold above. “Look, m’lord! The way is no longer hidden to me!”
I surveyed the entrance. “It would appear that Kar Garudwyn has accepted you and Joisan as rightful in-dwellers.”
“Accepted? Are you suggesting the hold is alive?” His glance at the rock walls surrounding us was wary, as though he expected them to sprout hands and faces.
“No,” I made answer, “but the hold and its environs are under a spell beyond anything I have ever encountered, protected by the Power. That is why Nidu could not—
“What is it, m’lord?” Guret asked as I broke off, quickening my pace on the ramp.
“I cannot, sense Joisan. It is probably nothing, but—Without completing my sentence I began to run, my strides taking me up the ramp, then through the Great Hall in a blur, toward the courtyard with the gryphon fountain, the one fronting that twin peak Joisan had identified as the place out of her own dreams. I was gasping, hand pressed to my aching side, and it was a moment before I could summon breath enough to call out.
“Joisan!” The wind in the heights moaned outside as the sun dropped behind the mountains in a last wash of ebbing scarlet. My hooves clattered in the narrow stone passageway with its multiple slender arches. “Joisan!”
She was sprawled, pale as death, before the arches facing the twin peak. Arm’s length from her lay the Gunnora amulet, as though she had taken it from her in response to a command, tossing it nearby.
I went to my knees beside her, raising her head, my heart stone-heavy within me. My hands shook so violently that it was many moments before I could steady them enough against her throat to feel the pulse of her lifeblood beneath my fingertips. “Joisan!”
Her breath came and went, regular, slow, deep, as though she slept. Yet her eyelids, near translucent in the glow of the globes on the walls, did not stir. “Joisan!” I called again, summoning now, reaching desperately with the mindsharing. “Wake!”