Aurian and Anvar arrived at the Xandim Fastness with their escort of Winged Folk and landed, damp and shivering in their nets, in a mist of fine spring drizzle that was becoming heavier by the moment.
“Ugh!” Aurian stepped carefully from the tangle of meshes and tried to pull the clinging folds of her wet cloak more closely around her shoulders with her free hand. The attempt was made awkward by the fact that Wolf was cradled in the other arm, snugly asleep against the warmth of his mother’s body. Above the Mage, more Skyfolk circled, waiting their turn to land, bearing the net that contained the cub’s lupine foster parents within its enclosing meshes. They looked a bedraggled sight, with their wet fur clinging spikily to their bodies, and Aurian could sense from their thoughts that both of them would be infinitely relieved to get their feet back onto good, solid earth once more. The Mage never ceased to be amazed and humbled by the extent of their forbearance and their loyalty to herself and her child. Which made it all the worse that they were out here being soaked and chilled, along with Aurian’s other companions. Already the Skyfolk, who hated the discomfort of wet plumage, were growing restive. With an impatient sigh the Mage turned back toward the Xandim Fastness, anxious to get her party into shelter quickly, and out of the damp, inhospitable night.
Anvar, aware of the restless mutterings of his winged escort, was squinting through the drifting veils of rain. “Where the bloody blazes is everybody?” he muttered irritably. “Even if they haven’t posted guards, they should at least be keeping some sort of watch. According to our winged scouts, Parric and his lot should certainly have arrived by now.”
“What useless humans,” rumbled Shia, shaking a spray of moisture from her fur. “Anvar, will you help us, please?” The cat sounded thoroughly disgruntled. She and Khanu had been landed quickly—due, Anvar suspected, to a good deal of nervousness on the part of their winged porters. The Skyfolk had dropped the net all in a tangle and retreated to a safe distance, and Shia and Khanu, without hands to unwind the mare’s nest of knotted rope, were securely enmeshed. Anvar, wiping rain out of his eyes, went to disentangle his friends.
“I’ve just spoken to Chiamh,” Aurian reassured them. “He was asleep—they all were. They didn’t expect us so soon. He says that the last part of the journey over the Wyndveil was grueling—they were exhausted by the time they reached the fastness. He’s rousing them now and they’re sending out an escort.”
“About time,” Shia muttered. “Lazy two-legged—” Her head swung sharply. “What was that?”
“What?” Anvar frowned. All his concentration had been centered on unraveling the snarled net.
“I thought I heard somethi—”
None of them had any more warning than that, as a black shape streaked out of the darkness toward Aurian. Hampered by the child in her arms, the Mage had neither the time nor the opportunity to react. Even as he leapt to his feet, Anvar saw the dark form close upon her, saw her crumple, heard a terrified squeal from the cub. Then the shape was gone.
“Follow it!” Anvar bellowed at the Skyfolk, who were still standing nearby, paralyzed with shock. Two of them took off in pursuit. Shia and Khanu burst free of the tangled net and went bounding after them, with the two wolves—who had been landed too late to help the Mage—close upon the heels of the great cats.
“Aurian!” Anvar bent over the limp form of the Mage, who lay motionless, facedown on the waterlogged turf. Sliding his arms beneath her, he turned her gently but was unable to make out any details in the gloom. Her skin was dreadfully cold. Somewhere in the background, he heard the sound of running feet. Then he was surrounded by Xandim who milled uselessly about him, unable to keep their torches alight in the rain, and blocking what little light was available even to Anvar’s night-vision. Frantic, Anvar gathered all his rage and fear and threw the energy into a brief, bright flare of Magelight that sent the Xandim reeling backward, covering their eyes and screaming in panic.
“What in Chathak’s name is happening here? Get out of the way, you fools! Let me through!” To his relief, Anvar recognized the voice of the cavalrymaster.
“Aurian was attacked,” the Mage cried. “Quick, Parric—help me get her inside.” He heard the cavalrymaster curse, and then the little man was at his side. “Is she badly hurt, Anvar?”
“I think so.” He lifted Aurian from the rain-soaked ground and followed Parric quickly as the little man cleared a path through the milling crowd. How badly she was hurt he didn’t dare think—but in that brief flare of Magelight, Anvar had seen that her tunic was soaked through with dark blood that was welling around the blade of a jagged knife, sunk deep into her chest.
7
The Mountain King
Aurian was drifting, somewhere out beyond her body. From above, she could see the pale, still form that was laid out on a bed of cloaks in the great entrance hall of the Xandim Fastness. Is that me? she wondered. Can it be—really? She felt dreamlike—oddly detached. She knew that she had been badly hurt; she knew her son had been stolen. Curiously, none of that mattered now. She viewed everything from outside, from above, from beyond…
From her high vantage point the Mage could see Parric, one of her oldest Mortal friends, kneeling over her body, his face contorted with grief. She could see Chiamh, the Xandim Seer, propped against the wall in a nearby corner, his face blank and expressionless as he rode the winds to track her lost child. His whole attention was not given to his task, she knew. Always, a shred of his consciousness remained with her, in the Great Hall, worrying about her recovery. And there—even in this soothing limbo she felt a stab of wrenching pain—was Anvar. Her lover had wasted no time in weeping. Instead he was hunched over her lifeless form, trying with every shred of his power and love to pull her fleeing spirit back into her body.
Poor Anvar. What chance did he have? Now Aurian understood what Forral must have felt when he was slain by the Wraiths, and had seen her, much younger then and much more innocent, trying to forestall the inevitable. Gods! How much it would have spared her, then, if she could only have understood the reality. This farewell to mortality was so easy! You only had to let go, and…
A fleeting glimpse of a memory passed through Aurian’s mind. A small boat, a moonlit river, and white foam glimmering on the churning waters of a lethal weir. An icy plunge, and a thought: It would be so easy, just to let go and leave all of this behind…
It was enough to shock the Mage out of her drifting dream. Oh, gods, it couldn’t be. What the blazes are you thinking of? Aurian scalded her drifting spirit with angry thought. You can’t die now! Yet could she prevent it? She felt terror twist her heart within her. A vision of Forral stood before her, veiled by drifting mists—but even beyond the obscuring veils she could see the pain on his face and the glimmer of tears in his eyes. Resolutely, Aurian turned away from the shade, stifling the longing within her. “Go away,” she gritted. “I can’t give up now!”
“He may not go—not this time. He has come for you—to meet you and escort you to my realm.” The ghastly voice pierced Aurian to the core with an ever-deepening grasp like talons of ice. The Mage shuddered. She had heard that voice before—once, long ago, in a dusty, sun-hammered courtyard in the lands of the Khazalim. “What do you want with me?” she whispered.
Death laughed. “What could I want, little fool? You have overplayed your gamble; overstayed your welcome in your world. Once before, you defied me—but this time you are mine!”
The massive, shrouded figure loomed huge and dark in Aurian’s vision, but with a strength born of desperation she ripped herself free from the grasp of his icy claws, though a howl of agony was wrenched from her lacerated soul. “No!” She shrieked her defiance in his face. “I hold the power of the Staff of Earth now. Wrought as it is with the High Magic, it gives me sufficient power to resist you, even in your realm! If you want me, you’ll have to fight me every step of the way!” Aurian fought to hide her astonishment at her own words. She hadn’t known that, about the Staff! How did she know it now?