But their discussion had given Moraga time for thought. She turned to Gregory. "You are a stranger!"
"Aye, to you and to this parish," he agreed.
"How, then, did you know my name? How did you know who I am?"
"The Wee Folk told us of you." Gregory was very bad at lying, so he didn't bother.
"The Wee Folk!" Her eyes widened. "Did they lead you to me, then?"
"Nay," Gregory replied. "I had only to follow the aura of your thoughts; as it grew stronger, I knew I was coming closer."
Her eyes went round. "But my thoughts were shielded!" Quicksilver shrank away inside herself. If Gregory could detect Moraga's thoughts in spite of her shield, what might he have read of Quicksilver's?
His answer reassured her, at least a little. "I could not read your thoughts," he said, "but only their aura. Think of your mind as being like a ship that sails the ocean, leaving a wake behind. Follow the wake, and you come to the ship."
Even Geoffrey eyed him sidelong. He thought he knew what his brother was talking about—but in what medium did human thoughts leave residual waveforms?
Obviously, in one Gregory could detect, and Geoffrey could not. It sent prickles up his back.
"You are a warlock, then!" Moraga accused.
"Well, a wizard," Gregory hedged, "for I am more concerned with study than with action. It is my brother who is a warlock." He nodded at Quicksilver. "And this lady is his prisoner."
"As you would no doubt make me!" Moraga cried, and a rock shot up from the ground, straight toward Gregory's head.
Quicksilver gave a shout and a dive, to catch the rock, but missed. Geoffrey lashed out a kick—but before boot hit rock, the stone crumbled, and Geoffrey's foot slashed through a cloud of dust.
"You would have injured your foot, brother," Gregory explained.
"Cheat!" Moraga cried, and a small boulder lifted up from the base of an oak.
Gregory frowned at it, and it exploded.
"Down!" Geoffrey threw an arm about Quicksilver and pulled her with him as he hit the ground. He managed to twist about, so that he landed first, breaking her fall.
"What seduction is this?" she demanded, face inches from his.
Geoffrey groaned. "Do not tempt me in mid-battle!" He struggled, and Quicksilver threw herself up to her knees with a look of contempt.
Geoffrey was on his feet in time to see shards of rock bouncing off an invisible sphere that seemed to surround Moraga. She stared, shaken, but rallied and sent two long, straight branches whipping and drubbing at Gregory.
"Nay, this is my affair!" Geoffrey cried, and took hold of one of the sticks with his mind. He was surprised at the strength of Moraga's mental hold, but pulled it out of her grip with a single sharp twist. She cried out, clapping her hands to her head, and the other staff fell to the ground. "You are warlocks!" Moraga cried. "You cannot move things with your minds!"
"We can, for we are Gallowglasses," Gregory said. "Hybrids, of a sort."
"'Tis unfair!"
"Oh, it truly is!" Quicksilver cried fervently. "If they can do all that we can, surely we should be able to do all that they can!"
"Yield you," Geoffrey said sternly.
"Never!" A vine ripped itself from a tree and went spinning toward Geoffrey's head. He frowned, and suddenly, he was gone—but in his place reared a giant snake that caught the vine in its teeth and cast it aside. Moraga narrowed her eyes even more, and a forked stick came hurtling toward the snake—but the serpent transformed, and the stick bounced harmlessly off a hollow tree.
"Burn, then!" Moraga shrieked, and fire blossomed at the base of the trunk. The tree went up in a roaring blaze, and Quicksilver cried out, running blindly toward the flames, hands outstretched—until she heard Gregory's voice in her ear. "Fear not, maiden—my brother is well, no matter what you see." Quicksilver skidded to a halt, looking about frantically, but Gregory had disappeared, too; where he had stood, there was only a circle of mushrooms.
"Be food, for I am not fooled!" Moraga cried, and a wild pig came trotting out of the woods, snuffling its way toward the mushrooms.
But the hollow tree had disappeared into ash, and the pig suddenly struck its nose against something that made it retreat with a cry of pain. Quicksilver looked, and saw a fallen spear glittering in the grass.
Moraga glared at a rock, and it looped up into the air, falling straight toward the spear—which disappeared. Quicksilver looked about, beginning to feel as though the world had gone fuzzy. She could see neither spear, nor Geoffrey, nor mushrooms...
But she did see a broad old stump right beneath the apple tree, and she was sure it had not been there before, and there was a hollow log decked with a flowering creeper that she had not noticed earlier either...
"I am not deceived!" Moraga glared at the log, and it began to smoulder...
The stump turned into Geoffrey, who reached up and caught the witch's ankle. She screamed, pulling away, and the log ceased to smoke; in fact, it turned into Gregory.
Geoffrey yanked, and Moraga fell screaming from her branch—straight into his arms.
"Do not dare!" Quicksilver sprinted, and was standing right across from him in an instant, glaring over the struggling woman into his eyes.
"Why, I would not have harmed her in any event," Geoffrey assured her, "but for you, O fair one, I shall loose her." He set Moraga's feet on the ground and let go. She backed away, wild-eyed, but stumbled and would have fallen if Quicksilver had not reached out an arm to catch her and stabilize her. "They have treated you most unchivalrously, damsel!"
"Unchivalrously!" Geoffrey cried indignantly. "She sought to smash us, burn us, and shred us, and all we have done in return is to pull her down from her perch!"
"A knight does not strike a woman, sir!"
"Nor have we," Gregory reminded her. "Indeed, I deflected all the shards from the exploded rock, so that they would not touch her."
Quicksilver looked up and shrank away, toward Moraga. Where had he come from?
"'Tis in full accord with chivalry," Geoffrey said, "to prevent a woman from striking, when she seeks to—and that is all we have done."
"But how did you change your shapes?" Moraga cried. Geoffrey shrugged impatiently. "'Tis a child's game."
"We did not truly change, damsel," Gregory said, "only cast the thought of different forms into your mind. Even as my brother says, 'tis a game we played at in childhood."
"Is that truly all?" Moraga narrowed her eyes, and seemed to gather herself.
Gregory looked up at Geoffrey in alarm. "Must we truly hurt her? Is there no other way to make her cease?"
CHAPTER 14
"Oh, this is insane!" Quicksilver cried. "Stop it, stop it now, all of you! Surely witchfolk should make common cause, not fight one another!"
Moraga hesitated, her glare lessening. "There is some truth in what you say—but they are men..."
"Aye, men, not brutes of the sort that despoiled you! Nay, I will warrant that they are gentlemen in the truest sense of the word! This one has had me in his power these three days, and has never offered me harm save to defend himself, nor ever sought to touch me except when I tempted him most unmercifully! They will not hurt you, so long as you do not seek to hurt them! A truce, I beg you, for I do not wish to see you suffer more, nor them either!"
"If you are sure." Moraga stepped a little closer to her, but definitely seemed to relax a little.
For her part, Quicksilver was amazed at herself for playing peacemaker. She had never done it before—in fact, she had always been more than ready for war, awaiting her enemy's attack with relish.