More illuminant shapes appeared among the trees. Spirits dived through her but caused her no pain. When she thought her companions neared the forest edge, she ran after them. She wished only to be away from this place and the discoveries of this night.
Leesil, Chap, and Wynn had broken through the tree line and waited in the open. She ran for them, and when she passed the last tree, the wails behind her grew. Leesil caught her in midstep to steady her, and they both turned to look back.
Angry spirits passed through high branches and back down again. They wailed and cried out, but none passed beyond the forest's edge.
Behind Magiere was the old ruined keep, and she saw their wagon and Port and Imp waiting outside the stockade. She wished for at least some dull relief, but she felt nothing at all.
"Wynn's shoulder needs attention," Leesil said.
Magiere couldn't look at the sage. "You see to it once we're under way."
As the others trudged toward the wagon, Magiere looked back to the spirit-laden forest. With all that had happened there, she'd forgotten one who hadn't been saved. Leesil was more worn than she was, Chap limped, and Wynn was wounded. There was no time to go back for one who'd been left behind.
Magiere turned away toward the wagon with sudden shame, her mother's bones left in a tomb of granite.
Welstiel did not know how long he'd been unconscious, but the night was fully dark, and he felt no approach of dawn. Ghosts wailed all around, and he tried to shut out their clamor. Weakened and tired, he climbed to his feet and remembered Ubad was dead. He stepped into the clearing for one last look.
There was blood on the ground-he could smell it-but there was no sign of the necromancer's corpse.
Welstiel gazed into the tree line all around him.
Perhaps one of the minions had retrieved the body, but he had no intention of investigating further. Not at the risk of being discovered while depleted and alone. His role here was done. He would find Chane, scry for Magiere, and leave this place for what he hoped would be the last time.
He walked slowly through the dank forest, opening his senses to the night. He wanted to avoid being seen by anything living, should Magiere and her companions still be nearby. Nothing living entered his awareness. What he did smell was the stench of decay and putrefaction.
The scent grew stronger as he walked, until he had to withdraw the willful expansion of his senses as he stepped into a small clearing.
There were the two bodies of animated dead he had seen earlier this night-and Chane.
Welstiel stood there for a long while.
Finally he stepped closer, looking down at Chane's fallen sword and at the black fluid soaked into the collar and front of his fine white shirt.
Chapter 18
L eesil drove the wagon into a bustling village before dusk on the second day after leaving the ruins near Apudalsat. The sight of an inn with soft smoke billowing from its chimney brought some small relief.
The past two days had been filled with painful silence. Magiere sat beside him on the wagon bench, ignoring Wynn and speaking to him only when necessary. Wynn was curled into a ball beneath her blanket in the wagon's back and often seemed lost and far away even when her eyes were open. Leesil had applied salve to her wound and bound it as best as he could, but the worst of her injury wasn't to her body. She hadn't spoken since leaving the clearing and Chane's corpse.
As yet, Leesil was uncertain what had transpired between Magiere and the spirit of her mother. They needed time alone for that, and a night's separation would be best for Wynn and Magiere. He climbed down from the wagon, found the innkeeper, paid for two rooms, and arranged for the care of Port and Imp. Then he returned for their belongings.
"There's a hallway in the back of the common room," he told Magiere. 'Take the first room on the left while I settle Wynn in the next one. Chap can stay with her tonight."
Magiere looked at him without blinking. She glanced down at Wynn's form curled in the wagon's back. Without a word, she climbed out, grabbed their trunk by herself, and carried it inside.
Leesil climbed into the wagon's back and crouched down beside Wynn. He was still exhausted from facing Vordana, but he could carry her if need be.
"There's a soft bed waiting. Can you walk?"
Wynn stirred but didn't look at him. "I can walk."
Hearing her voice was encouraging. Leesil stepped off the wagon and reached up to grasp her by the waist and lift her down. Chap ambled along beside them to the inn. His limp had lessened over the passing days.
Leesil settled Wynn on the end of the bed in her small room. It had a straw mattress, but by its bulk, it had been recently restuffed and would be suitably soft. The innkeeper left hot water in a small lidded pot, so he added tea leaves from Wynn's pack. While he waited for them to steep, he pulled back the bed's old quilt.
"Let's take your boots off and get you settled."
He helped with the boots, and she obeyed him without a word. He checked her bandage, pulled the quilt up around her chin, and then knelt down close to her face.
"Magiere did what she had to. I'd have done the same."
"No, you wouldn't have," she whispered, staring up at the bare rafters in the ceiling.
"Yes," he said firmly. "Chane wasn't some undead boy living on small animals in the wild. He tried to kill Magiere in Bela, and he tried to burn Chap alive. I'd have punched a blade through his throat without a second thought. That is what we do, and you're the one who asked to join us."
Wynn rolled away from him, and it was a long moment before she spoke. "Will she send me away?"
"No. She would never abandon you here," he said, and reached out to stroke the back of her hair. "And I wouldn't let that happen either. You're part of this now, for better or worse, but you'll have to earn her trust again. In time, perhaps, she'll be back to growling at you."
He hoped this was true, though he knew Magiere judged Wynn's lie of omission as a betrayal. However, he believed in second chances. How could he not, given the ones that he'd had himself? Sorrow over this rift with Magiere was only part of Wynn's anguish. The loss of Chane, whatever he'd meant to her, wasn't something for which Leesil could offer comfort. Wynn was young and new to their calling, and Leesil still didn't know if this was the right life for her.
"Get some sleep," he said. 'Tomorrow we hurry west out of this land and then north. It will be hard traveling through the winter, but when we reach my mother's people, all mat knowledge you're so proud of will finally be useful."
He stood up and put some water into a bowl for Chap. Then he poured tea into two tin cups sitting near the pot. One he left by Wynn's bedside, and the other he took with him. He gave Chap a tilt of his head toward the bed. The dog hopped up on the end and curled into a ball, watching the sage intently.
"It's going to be all right, Wynn," Leesil said. "I promise."
Wynn didn't move. "Good night, Leesil."
He stepped into the hall and closed the door with a sigh. Comforting Wynn, though complicated, seemed simple when compared with opening up Magiere's thoughts. And getting her out of this land was the most urgent thing on his mind.
Chap curled against Wynn's feet as Leesil closed the door. He was satisfied but not relieved.
For all his fears-more so, the fears of his kin-Magiere had faced Ubad without faltering. He had kept his faith in her, and she had not failed him. The Fay would have to accept that he had made the correct choices in the end.
There remained the apparition of the enemy's chosen form-the black scaled coils in the forest-and this still sent waves of panic through his spirit. It had not been Magiere's journey into the past, after all, that was quickening the coming days. After an age in the mortal world, the enemy was already aware, reaching out from within its slumber to gather new servants. It had been waiting, watching for Magiere.