But I knew—or Sylvya told me, it amounted to the same thing—that there was now come a change in the hunt. There was a force trapped here with us, a force of Power. That presence was like a clean light shining through the dank mists of a fen, and I knew that light was Elys. She was ensnared.
Could I free her? Take her back with me? Even as the question flickered within my mind, there came a fresh wave of knowledge from Sylvya—and experiencing that knowing, I was nearly lost in fear.
The spell holding this dreadful hunt between worlds and times had become faded with age, its arcane bindings stretched and pulled thin, as one may draw out the strands of linen from a spindle—but even the strongest thread has a breaking tension. Even as I focused the sight of my not-eyes on the bindings of that spell, they stretched, tore, then rippled away. I caught a faint backlash of Power from the world where my body still rested, then glimpsed a narrow, knifelike face, skull-thin, with long dark hair waving wildly in the night breeze.
Nidu! As I watched the Shaman, the roll of her drum reached my ears, and I saw the blood and fat-smeared rock upon which she had sacrificed to work her spell—her spell to loose the bindings holding That Which Runs the Ridges in thrall, releasing it onto an unsuspecting land.
She might never have accomplished such a feat of sorcery, had she not somehow used Elys to direct her summoning. The Wisewoman’s Power had served the Shaman as a focusing point in this deadly liberation.
I felt the Power that was Maleron waxing, swelling into a force so deadly, so inimical to all that I had ever known, that I panicked, struggling to free myself from such proximity. Kerovan! I shouted with part of my mind, using the name as my own focusing point. Kerovan! Reach me—
It was as though I was one trapped in a raging fire or a roaring flood, struggling helpless, until something akin to a lifeline began to tighten, drawing me back to safety. The grip of that malevolent Power swung in my direction, clutching at me, seemingly grinding the flesh from my bones—
Kerovan! Along that insubstantial but nevertheless real binding I felt strength flow, so that I was able to claw my way out, free myself—
With a rush that left me too dizzy to even move, I was back in the Great Hall of Kar Garudwyn, held tight in my lord’s embrace, with Guret clinging to one hand, Jervon to the other. My relief was so great I nearly sobbed aloud, to breathe again, smell clean air, feel my blood move in a warm, living body.
“Joisan!” Kerovan laid his cheek against my hair, clutching at me as though I was indeed one rescued from a physical death. “What happened?”
I was so wearied I could barely whisper, but managed to direct Guret to bring my collection of simples. There was a cordial within, distilled of a mixture of carnation and dragon’s blood, that, when two drops were mixed with a cup of water, would help me regain a measure of my strength for a while—and would not harm the child. Under my direction, the boy prepared the cup, then Kerovan held it for me while I sipped.
Gradually, steadiness gathered again in my limbs, my hands stopped their trembling, and I was able to sit without support, my head clear. Finally I faced my lord and Jervon, trying to summon the courage to deliver such devastating news. I was too tired to choose the easiest of words, so I expressed myself as bluntly as possible.
“I was within Sylvya’s body, as she was trapped inside that hunt. There was another force of the Light also trapped, and I recognized that presence as Elys. Nidu has drawn Power from her, using her as the focusing point of her spell-breaking. And she has succeeded in her attempt!”
I looked up at Kerovan, trying to control the shivers still threatening to wrack me. “She is mad, my lord. The anger she felt at us today has overcome any lingering traces of sanity. When she could not break the forces shielding this valley, she turned wholly to the Shadow for the worst fate she could find to unleash upon us! Tonight when that hunt wends its way up the mountainside, when it reaches the end of its set run in the ruins of Car Re Dogan, the bonds holding it out of time will be released by her drumming. It will be free to continue on as a flesh—and-blood threat—no longer a phantom manifestation—tonight, it will become real. All that stands within its path will be swept away, so great is the force the Shaman has unthinkingly released.”
Kerovan looked around blankly at the walls of the Great Hall, and I knew, even though his expression did not change, the depth of his feeling for this place—a place that had claimed him as lord, where he finally felt at home. “And we and Kar Garudwyn lie in a direct path from that other peak,” he said. “It will sweep over this place, then continue on through the valley, toward Anakue and, eventually, the Kioga grazing grounds.”
“It will be free to rove wherever it wishes—or Maleron chooses to take it,” I made swift agreement.
“And Nidu was the cause of this?” Guret asked.
“Aye,” Kerovan said. “But I doubt greatly that the woman has even the faintest idea of what she has so thoughtlessly unleashed. She can no more control such a Power of the Dark then she could stem a flood with her naked hands.”
“Who is Nidu?” Jervon wanted to know. “And how came you and your lady here, Kerovan?”
As my lord swiftly recounted the barest bones of our story to the Dalesman, I quietly arose and set about gathering up the herbs, candles, and other materials that might prove necessary in a contest of spelling, carefully placing them in my bag of simples. My hands shook as I did so, for I hated to even imagine myself pitted against Nidu’s sorcerous powers—not to mention the aroused wrath of one of the true Adepts, freed now after centuries of bondage.
“What are you doing, Cera?” Guret asked, coming over to watch me.
“Gathering together my materials,” I said, carefully locating my wand and placing it in the top of the bag.
“But Cera”—Guret was pale—“you cannot hope to stand against such a foe!”
Swift as a blade in battle, Kerovan was by my side, though there had been no true mindsharing between us—rather simple knowledge of a common threat to all we had gained at such hardship. “My lady has courage for two, but she will not stand alone. Kar Garudwyn is my home—our home—and I will not lose it after the finding of it has taken years of wandering and fear! We must stop that thing”—he looked down at me earnestly—“and stop it we will.”
10
Kerovan
“No, my lord!” The Kioga youth shook his head violently, then his eyes traveled from me to Joisan. “We have no chance against such an enemy, Cera!”
I put a hand on his shoulder, feeling tremors I could not see. “Rest easy, Guret. Joisan and I travel alone in this attempt. I have another duty for you this night, and that is to ride southward to warn the people in the fisher-village of Anakue, and then your own people, of what may come their way in the event we are overrun.”
“M’lord, you are mad!” Guret’s voice broke slightly in his vehemence, but his gaze was level as it held mine. “You did not see Jerwin after he stood in the path of that… thing… and I did. My lord, there was naught remaining for us to even bury! Lumps of flesh…” He swallowed. “Shards of bone no bigger than the tooth of a yearling. You also did not see my blood-friend, Tremon, wither like a sapling uprooted, shrinking into himself with each dawn until we all waited for him to die with hope, rather than fear!”