Iago placed a hand on his shoulder. "That's what I told him, Themo." He sent Matteo an apologetic look, his eyes cutting quickly to Themo and back. Matteo, understanding, gave a slight nod. Themo was fond of gossip, and a diversion was definitely in order. "Did you know that Matteo spends every spare hour with the girl who called the laraken?"
This bit of scandal completely engaged Themo's attention, and some of the ruddy color returned to his face. "Have you gone moon-mad? A wizard's apprentice? Though I suppose she's pretty enough," he reminisced, "especially if you're partial to big dark eyes."
Matteo was no longer listening. He walked up to one of the mounds and placed a hand upon it. "Feel this."
The other jordaini gingerly followed suit. The conical hills hummed with energy-even the magic-resistant jordaini could feel it! The moss-covered rock felt insubstantial, not quite solid.
"The veils are thin here," Iago said in a troubled voice as he scrubbed his hand on one thigh, as if to remove the disturbing tingle. "That's why we hear the Unseelie song."
"Could the fairies come through?" Themo demanded.
"They are said to do so, from time to time, but only one or two manage to emerge. Apparently the passage is difficult, possible only at certain times and places."
"So there's no chance of an army of them pouring out of these things?" Theme persisted, nodding toward conical hills.
"Not unless they are summoned," Matteo soothed him, "and there is little fear of that. Who would do such a thing? Who could?"
Iago's eyes settled on something, and widened. "Don't we have a proverb about not asking questions unless you truly want an answer?"
Matteo followed the line of his gaze. Tzigone stood at entrance to the pass. Her blue robe was travel-grimed and kilted up into her belt for ease of movement. Her dark eyes were enormous in a pale and furious face.
"Behind you!" she shouted, pointing.
He turned and was not surprised to see the shadows at the far side of the clearing stir and take shape. The form they took turned his blood to ice.
Thin as wraiths and dark as drow, the dark fairies regarded the intruders with eyes of a strangely glowing black. They were no taller than children. They moved with ethereal grace, darting between the hollow hills so swiftly the eye could not follow them.
Matteo swallowed hard and drew his weapons. As he did so, the creatures disappeared. He heard a faint sound like that of wind, but the impression was gone so quickly that Matteo did not understand the truth of it until he saw the glowing eyes emerge from behind a closer hillock. The Unseelie folk did not move through magic-at least, not as he understood it. They were just that quick.
"Don't let them out," Tzigone yelled. "Hold them here in the valley!"
Matteo shot an incredulous look back at her. "Anything else?"
She was already off and running. "Make it up as you go along. I'll be back as soon as I kill a certain rat-bastard wizard!"
Tzigone's voice faded, as did the clatter of her boots against the rough stone. The fairies likewise vanished, and in an eyeblink their feral eyes peered out from the edges of a different, closer mound. The Unseelie song began, a chilling, unearthly melody that bounded from mound to mound, everywhere and nowhere.
"Mother of Mystra," Themo swore softly, the battle light flickering uncertainly in his dark eyes. "How in hell can we fight this?"
Matteo drew his sword and strode toward the nearest hillock. "As best we can."
Tzigone raced down the passage and launched herself at Dhamari like a human arrow. They went down together, rolling painfully over the rocky ground. He was too surprised to offer much resistance, and she quickly pinned him.
"You tricked me," she hissed, fisting her hands in his tunic and giving him a furious shake. The movement spilled a length of silver chain from its hiding place beneath his tunic. From it hung a medallion-her mother's talisman!
Tzigone lunged for it. Her fingers tingled as a familiar magic spilled from the token, the watchful guardian magic she remembered from her earliest days. With a vicious tug, she broke the chain and thrust the talisman-the real talisman-into the cuff of her boot.
For the first time she noticed the cold, malicious light in the wizard's eyes. "You tricked me," she said again, this time in wonder as she began to comprehend the scope of Dhamari's betrayal. "You told me I was casting a spell of warding and banishment, but it was really a summoning! I called those things!"
"An accident," the wizard protested. "As I told you, this magic is beyond me."
"So you gave it to a green apprentice!"
A contrite expression washed over his face. "Let me up, and I will give you the scroll for the reversal spell."
"Well, that was easy," she said sarcastically, "and probably worth the effort it took." She gave the wizard another shake. "I know you can cast metal transmutation-I've seen you studying the scroll! Change my dagger to iron. Do it!" she shouted when Dhamari hesitated.
The wizard's lips formed a grim line, but he nodded agreement. Tzigone let him up and showed him the silver knife that Basel had bought for her.
"Iron," she reminded him. "And by wind and word, you'd better be right behind me to do the same for the jordaini’s weapons."
Dhamari glanced over his shoulder. His guards-those who had not already fled back down the pass-formed a solid wall behind him. "You heard her," the captain said gruffly.
The wizard took the knife and cast the spell. When the task was done, he gazed with dismay at the dull, heavy weapon. "Consider," he pleaded, "you cannot win against such creatures."
Tzigone snatched the iron knife from him and raced to Matteo's aid. As she burst into the clearing, a little cry of dismay escaped her. Her friend was not faring well.
The Unseelie warriors were swift and silent, taxing the jordaini with their speed, toying with them with their wicked little knives. All three men bled from many tiny wounds, but they could not lay a blade on their darting foes. Iron weapons would help, but Tzigone couldn't hold them off alone. She glanced back over her shoulder. Dhamari Exchelsor swayed uncertainly at the edge of the clearing.
"Metal transmutation!" she shouted. The wizard caught her eye and quickly went into the second casting. When the spell was cast, his eyes rolled back and he slumped to the ground-to Tzigone's eye, just a little too gracefully.
"Idiot," Tzigone muttered. Dhamari's cowardly ploy might excuse him from fighting, but it also kept him from defending himself.
"Get him out of here," she told the men who'd followed Dhamari to the clearing. Their faces proclaimed that they'd be happy to watch the wizard die where he fell. Tzigone's gaze swept over them. "Move him, or deal with me."
She didn't have time to wonder at the fear that crossed their faces, then the shame. "As you say, lady," murmured the leader.
Tzigone was already running. She moved directly into the path of one of the dark folk-the largest one she'd seen among them. The creature stopped before her, no more than a breath away, repelled and weakened by the iron she carried.
Tzigone lifted the knife in a gesture of menace, then brought her knee up hard. The fairie's black eyes blazed with what she hoped was pain.
"Lady," she repeated derisively. "I don't think so."
Her iron knife swept in.
She yanked it free and whirled to take stock of the battlefield. Matteo had tossed aside his now-iron sword-too heavy, she guessed-but he fought with daggers alongside his two friends. They stood in a triangle formation, back to back to back, moving in concert as they faced their peculiar foe. The Unseelie folk were still preternaturally fast, but the iron weapons seemed to sap their strength as surely as the laraken drained magic.