’Gren threw himself to the ground beside us, chest heaving, face alight with exultation. “There you are, Shiv. Not a sniff of wizardry needed!”
Shiv gazed at the wreck of the mill with a nice confusion of shock and laughter. “No wonder you don’t feel a need to study in Hadrumal, Sorgrad.”
He was looking back with a curious expression. “You mages could probably tell me why a spark can make powder in the air go up like firedamp.”
I twisted round in Ryshad’s arms to see just what we’d achieved. The only time I’d let ’Gren talk me into this before, it had been a little windmill we’d reduced to kindling. I was startled to see how comprehensively such a big, solid building had been wrecked.
“These people don’t use enough wood to fuel a really good fire.” ’Gren sounded disappointed.
“We can settle for this.” Ryshad shook his head at the devastation. Each side of the mill had a gaping hole punched through the wall, masonry still tumbling down. The beams and struts of the roof were broken and falling into the midst of the ruin of the shafts and axles and cogs that had driven the millstones, hoisted the sacks and worked all the other mysteries of the miller’s craft. A rapidly growing fire filled the hollow heart of the stricken building, voracious flames licking ever higher. As the ever-present breeze helpfully fanned the blaze, its greedy roar rose above sharp sounds of further collapse.
“You say you’ve done that before?” Ryshad’s embrace tightened round me.
“Twice, ’Gren confirmed gleefully.
“Just the once with me,” I reminded him.
“Why?” Ryshad’s bemusement made me turn my head to look at him.
“We needed a distraction,” I shrugged.
“Which is what we wanted here.” Sorgrad still wasn’t quite sharing ’Gren’s uncomplicated jubilation but his eyes were bright with elation. “I’d say we’ve got one.”
Beyond the causeway, the abrupt devastation of the mill had thrown Olret’s people into utter confusion. Girls ran screaming from the goat sheds, too startled to secure the gates so they were instantly pursued by their yammering herds. Girls and goats alike collided with men and women pouring out of the storehouses by the keep, some rushing for the shore, others pausing to look at the mountains inland, wild gestures eloquent of their fear that some fire from beneath the earth was about to erupt and destroy them. Wiser heads might have got some grip on the situation but went unheard as folk rushing from the long sheds down by the jetties added to the uproar with questions no one could answer.
Men in twos and threes headed unbidden towards the destruction but were diverted almost at once as the goats seized the chance to run loose among the yards and fields. Some leapt the walls surrounding the banked and enclosed fields, eager to gorge themselves on the precious crops. Others jinked around the troughs of gutted fish, heads high and noses questing. Several tried to evade capture by running out on to the landing stages only to misjudge their footing and fall with a splash into the sea or on to a boat and cause yet more chaos.
“Time to go, Shiv.” Ryshad held me closer still.
“This has to be quick so it’ll be rough,” the wizard warned.
“Hold on to your breakfast,” ’Gren advised.
I would have stuck out my tongue at him but on balance thought clamping my jaws shut more sensible. The magic was different this time; a rapid blanket of cold mist shot through with blue that enveloped us inside half a breath. Thorn bushes, dam and millpond all vanished into whiteness. The shift was a brutal one, jarring me from head to heels but paradoxically, I felt less inclined to throw up. Fog was still filling my eyes and I rubbed at them.
“Ah!” Shiv let out a harsh gasp. “I’ve one more spell in me.”
“Let’s make it count,” suggested ’Gren.
“Where are we?” Sorgrad demanded urgently.
As my vision cleared, I saw we stood in the corridor below the floor with the captive women. I headed for the stairs, Ryshad at my side, his sword drawn. ’Gren said something I didn’t catch. I turned to see him and Sorgrad racing down the corridor in the other direction.
“Where are they going?” demanded Ryshad.
’Gren’s just remembered something,” was all Shiv had to say with sharp annoyance.
“Leave them to it.” I was sorting lock picks and knelt by the metal gate.
“We agreed a plan,” Ryshad fumed.
“It’s only ever a plan as long as they choose to go along with it.” I glanced up to see he’d dearly love to expand on the dangers of such ill-discipline. “Keep watch and let me open this.”
Shiv stood where he could see down the corridor and Ryshad moved for a better view of the stairs. Turmoil was coming and going in waves below us, urgent shouts beating down wrathful voices answering impossible queries. People ran and doors slammed but, as we’d intended, everyone’s attention was on the inexplicable catastrophe over on the causeway. That’s where everyone was heading, either to help or more likely just to gawp and exclaim over the misfortune of it all.
“Can you work that concealment charm?” Ryshad asked, voice low and cautious.
“Would you like me to juggle a few knives while I’m at it?” I muttered the arcane words under my breath and did my best to hold the refrain in my mind while probing at the workings of the lock. I closed my eyes the better to concentrate, my fingers remembering the pattern I’d teased out of the hidden shapes before. The lock snicked open. “That’s it.” I stood and pushed the gate open.
“Lock it behind us,” Ryshad ordered.
“What about ’Grad and ’Gren?” I objected.
“Leave it.” Shiv was already taking the stairs two at a time. “If Olret comes after us, he’ll have a key.”
I shrugged as Ryshad hissed through his teeth and we both went after the mage.
“It’s me.” I knocked on the bolted door a brisk double tap. Ryshad knelt to pull the lower bolt aside, Shiv reaching for the upper one. “With friends.” I hastily wiped any wish for concealment from my mind and sincerely hoped someone within had the skills to read my intent for the truth. Otherwise we were in more trouble than I wanted to contemplate with no ally at our backs. I took a deep breath before I had to brave the stench within and lifted the latch.
“Do you bring help?” As before, Shernasekke’s lady wasn’t wasting time on pleasantries. “Have you spoken to our kin?”
“We’ll help you if you help us,” I matched her directness. “We’ve killed Ilkehan and now Olret wants us dead. Give me your word your friends will defend us and we’ll get you out of there.”
“I swear by the duty I owe the land of my line and those of my blood within it.” The woman’s blue eyes were pale in her drawn and filthy face.
“That sounds good enough.” Ryshad moved warily towards the cage that held her. “Stand back.” He kicked hard at the crude lock with his booted heel once, twice and with a curse, a third time. It might have been proof against the women’s fingers but this onslaught twisted it sufficiently for Ryshad to wrench the door aside. The woman seized her little daughter’s hand and pulled her out of their prison, slipping on the ordure underfoot.
Shiv was keeping watch by the door. “How far do you need to be from here to use your Artifice to contact your kin?”
She looked blankly at him.
“Your lore.” I remembered the Mountain word for the aetheric enchantments of the Sheltya. “True magic.”
The woman’s face cleared, then she grimaced. “Do you have anything to eat? I’m famished beyond all reason.”