Is there a reason for this late night stroll?
Thorn spoke in a low whisper. "I want to learn about the attack. The gnoll said he'd know by morning. That means they're doing something now-and I want to eavesdrop."
A valid concern.
"I'm glad I have your approval," Thorn said. "Given the size of gnoll ears, I don't think I should be whispering to my dagger while I'm trying to avoid them. If you notice anything interesting, let me know. Otherwise, let the Lantern do her work, yes?"
Understood.
Thorn made her way through the woods, staying just beyond the light of the campfires. The halflings of the Talenta Plains had brought their own sentry-a large lizard that stood on two legs and glared into the woods, sniffing the air and flashing inch-long teeth. If the beast detected Thorn, it made no move.
Although the gnolls were spread out among the various campsites, the creatures also had a camp of their own. As she made her way toward it, she paused to avoid a pair of gnolls… and became aware of a problem. In the absence of any humans, the two were speaking in their own tongue. It was difficult for her to recognize that the hooting and whining was actually communication; it sounded like the noise of wild beasts.
Steel was able to identify a few key words. The gnolls were waiting for someone to arrive. Thorn decided to wait and learn the identity of the newcomer. But if it was another gnoll, she might not be able to understand much.
As she moved closer to the gnoll camp, she heard a sound in the woods behind her. It was no rabbit; it was the crack of a foot snapping a fallen twig. Thorn slid around the trunk of a gnarled oak, taking cover while searching for the source of the sound.
I sense no magical emanations, Steel said. Most likely another sentry.
Thorn wasn't so sure. The gnolls were larger and heavier than humans; the snap had sounded like the work of a smaller creature. Reluctantly, she abandoned her position, moving deeper into the shadows of the forest. A moment later, she heard the rustle of an arm brushing against bark. She glanced toward it… and saw nothing. The magic of her ring let her see clearly in the gloom, but she saw only empty air.
And yet… she knew something was there. She'd always had sharp eyes and keen ears, and now she felt a presence in the woods-more by instinct than anything else. Though her eyes denied it, she knew someone had slipped around the tree ahead of her.
Thorn couldn't ask Steel's opinion without warning her prey. But she wasn't about to let this stranger escape. She had come to find out about the attack-and some invisible creature was skulking around the perimeter. She carefully closed the distance to her target.
Focusing her thoughts, Thorn spun around the tree. She saw nothing, but she knew where her target was, and she rammed her forearm into the place where a man's throat might be. Her bracer struck a soft target, what felt like flesh. She raised Steel, ready to drive the blade into her hidden foe.
Finding the invisible man was challenge enough. Predicting his movement was something else entirely. His kick caught her off guard and knocked her backward, just enough to put her out of reach. His invisibility had the same limit as her own magic; his hostile action shattered the enchantment. The air rippled as Drego Sarhain appeared before her, his hands wreathed in silver fire.
"Well, Lady Tam," he said quietly. "It seems we have something in common."
CHAPTER NINE
The Duurwood Camp Droaam Eyre 12, 998 YK
A drenaline surged through Thorn's veins, and the crystal shrapnel burned along her spine. Her first instinct was to charge, to rush in and slash her enemy's throat before he could begin an incantation. She'd fought wizards and sorcerers before, and she'd found that steel, applied directly to the flesh, was the most effective counterspell. Still, Drego had landed a solid kick; he knew his way around a brawl. She couldn't afford a long, loud fight… but, odds were, neither could he.
"Flamebearer Sarhain," she murmured. "This is a surprise. Unless you're trying to attract the attention of every gnoll in the woods, I suggest you douse your pretty hands."
Drego flexed his fingers, and Thorn tightened her grip on her dagger, ready to leap at the first sign of a mystical gesture. He lowered his hands, and the flames flickered and died.
"Wisdom and beauty," he said with a smile. He'd seen through her disguise in an instant, but he hadn't bothered with one; he still wore his embroidered doublet. Of course, an invisible man had little need to conceal his identity. "Does Lord Beren know what an exceptional assistant he has?"
"I'm just as surprised to see your talents at work," Thorn said, tapping the hilt of her dagger on the word surprised. "Given that your minister isn't speaking, I doubt she authorized this walk in the woods."
No explanation, Steel whispered in response. I'm still not sensing any magical auras. Whatever he can do, whatever he's carrying-I can't help you.
Drego bowed his head to acknowledge the point. "I don't like to burden the minister with such trivial things. Between prayer and preparation for the task ahead, she has much on her mind."
"You're taking quite a risk, wandering the woods like this. If something were to happen to you, who would speak for your minister? Could she even ask for breakfast?" As Thorn spoke, she slid one foot forward. If it came to combat, she needed to end it with a single stroke, before they could draw the attention of the gnolls. Throwing her blade was too risky. She needed to be quick and close.
Thorn wasn't the only one prepared for battle. Drego had lowered his hands, but his fingers were still spread wide, ready to weave a spell. The danger of magic was that it was unpredictable. Thorn had no idea what powers Drego could unleash. Though he wore no armor and carried no sword, he had the confident presence of a predator. If Thorn had struck to kill on her first attack, he'd be dead now… but he showed no hint of fear. A moment passed as they stared at each other, poised on the edge of violence.
A burst of laughter broke the silence. No, not laughter-the hooting voice of a gnoll, coming from the main campsite.
Thorn kept her eyes on Drego. He surprised her. He slowly raised his hands and brought them together, interlacing his fingers into a tight double fist. It was a terrible position for anyone who relied on magic. To cast a spell, he'd have to pull his hands apart, and in the heat of battle, every second mattered.
"This is foolish," he said. "We should be allies." Since she'd met him, he'd always had a condescending air, as if he knew a joke no one else could see. Now he was calm and serious, placing himself at her mercy. Was this the true Drego Sarhain, or just another mask?
"Why is that?" she said, still ready to strike. "I haven't seen the Korranberg Chronicle recently. Has the Keeper of the Flame recognized King Boranel's right to the throne and made reparations for the war?"
He didn't rise to the jibe. "You're not in Breland, Nyrielle." She'd given him permission to use her name when they were leaving Graywall, but after the mocking "Lady Tam," it was strange to hear it. "And I'm not in Thrane. You and I-we both know that the war isn't over. But I don't believe Galifar will ever be reborn. All I want now is to protect my people from harm."
Thorn had been trained to read people. Either Drego was serious, or a remarkably skilled liar. Since he was a spy, it was an even bet. She said nothing.