“No, not that one,” Dorna said, shading her eyes with one hand as she peered out across the meadow. “The one it repaired.”
“What?” both men said in unison.
Dorna pointed. “That thing,” she said.
Ezak and Kel turned to look in the direction she indicated, and Kel started to lift his head to see over the grass.
“Stay down!” she snapped. “It won’t blast you if you stay hidden in the grass.”
Ezak let out a low moan, and fell forward onto his belly; from Kel’s vantage point he vanished behind the rise. “What is it?” Ezak wailed.
“I don’t know,” Dorna said, “but I would guess it’s Northern sorcery left over from the Great War. I saw it pointing at us right before that flash.”
“I’m bleeding a lot,” Ezak said. “Am I going to die?”
“I don’t think so,” Dorna said. “Shut up and I’ll see if I can help.”
Kel glanced over and saw Dorna twisting around to head back over the rise, carefully staying below the top of the grass as she crawled along. He did not follow; he didn’t know much of anything about caring for wounds, and if she needed his help he was sure she would ask-or order-him. Instead he scanned the land ahead, trying to locate the Northern sorcery and make sure it wasn’t coming any closer.
“What’s that?” he heard Ezak ask, his voice unsteady.
“A healer,” Dorna replied. “Hold still.”
“I never heard of healing sorcery,” Ezak protested.
“You don’t know much about sorcery, then. Witchcraft is usually cheaper, but sorcery can heal, too.”
Kel had never heard of sorcerous healing, either, but he had heard that not only could witches heal injuries, but so could warlocks and wizards and theurgists. It didn’t seem very surprising that sorcerers could, too. He kept his attention focused forward.
Nothing was moving, so far as he could see, unless he counted occasional small ripples where the breeze disturbed the meadow grass. He heard insects buzzing, but could not see them. Cautiously, he lifted his head and saw the afternoon sun glinting from something almost directly ahead of him, easily a hundred yards away.
“I think I see it,” he said, keeping his voice low.
“What?” Dorna replied.
“I said, I think I see it,” Kel repeated, a little more loudly.
“Well, of course,” Dorna said angrily. “I saw it, too. That’s why I said to get down, which your big clumsy friend, who has now passed out on us, chose to ignore.”
“But all I see is something shiny,” Kel said quietly. “How could you tell it was dangerous?”
“Will you speak up? It can’t possibly hear us from this far away, if it can hear at all.”
“I said, how could you tell it was dangerous?” Kel shouted.
“I didn’t know for sure, but when I saw it swivel toward us I thought we’d better be careful.”
“It swiveled?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t see that. It’s not moving now.”
“It’s probably still pointed straight at us.”
“Why isn’t it coming closer?”
“I don’t think it can. I think it’s fixed in place. The fil drepessis isn’t moving, and I think it would be following the Northern thing if the Northern thing was moving.”
“Why?”
The silence after Kel asked that was long enough that he was beginning to worry, but at last Dorna said, “You’re right. It might have just shut down where it was when it finished its job. I don’t know what your idiot friend told it to do.”
“Neither does he,” Kel said.
“So I understand.”
“What do we do now?”
The pause was not quite so long and worrisome this time. “I don’t know,” Dorna finally said. “We need to stop that thing and get the fil drepessis back, but I don’t know how.” More quietly, she added, “I wish Nabal were here.”
“So do I,” Kel said to himself, too softly for the others to hear. Then more loudly, he said, “Couldn’t we go find another sorcerer to take care of it? Or a wizard, or some other magician?”
“No!” Dorna said. Then a moment later she added, “At least, I’d rather not. That’s my fil drepessis out there. I don’t want anyone else to take it. And I don’t want it destroyed-it might be the last one.”
“But…” Kel began. Then he stopped, uncertain what he was going to say.
“It is mine!” Dorna snapped. “I know I’m not a sorcerer, so I’m not supposed to have it, or most of the other talismans, but Nabal never had an apprentice, living in that miserable little village the way we did, so it’s mine. I’ll decide who I sell it to!”
“But couldn’t you hire someone to smash the Northern thing and leave your feel-drapes-hiss alone?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. But this is my fault, so I should take care of it.”
Kel blinked, and turned, but could not see the sorcerer’s widow. “Why is it your fault?” he asked.
“Because I knew you two were thieves come to steal my husband’s magic, and I didn’t just chase you off. I thought I could outsmart you and make you work for me, and now look! Here we are in the middle of nowhere trying to fight Northern combat sorcery, and that whole wagonload of magic is sitting there at the inn just waiting for someone else to steal it!”
“Irien’s watching it.”
“Irien’s just an innkeeper! What does she know about it?”
“Innkeepers are usually pretty good at dealing with thieves,” Kel said. “It’s part of the job.” Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, though, he wondered whether that was as true out in the country as it was inside the city walls.
Kel heard a loud sniff before Dorna said, “I suppose you’re right,” and he realized she was crying quietly.
“Couldn’t we go back and get your wagon safely to Ethshar, and then come back for the feel-drapes-hiss when we have a plan for catching it?” he asked. “After all, if we can’t get near it, neither can anyone else. We know where it is now.”
“No,” Dorna said. “No, it’s too dangerous. Someone might get killed. Ezak was lucky it only took off some hair and part of his ear-if he’d gotten any closer it might have cut off his whole head. Besides, even if that thing doesn’t kill anyone, someone might get to it and claim the fil drepessis before we get back.”
Kel had to admit to himself that her first point was a good one-anyone who wandered into the area unsuspecting might get cut to pieces by that red flash, and while this meadow wasn’t exactly farmed, they had seen a few signs that they weren’t the first people to wander through the area-trampled grass, discarded apple cores, and the like.
What was that flash, anyway? Northern sorcery, yes, but how did it work?
“Dorna?” he called.
“What?”
“Do you have any idea what that Northern thing is?”
“A weapon, of course.”
“But what kind of weapon?”
“I don’t know! I’m not a sorcerer, and Northern sorcery was different, anyway.”
“If it’s different, then how could the feel-drapes-hiss fix it?”
“It obviously wasn’t that different! I told you, sorcery uses the natural order of the World, and that’s the same everywhere. The basic principles don’t change, but how they’re used…” She didn’t finish the sentence.
“But if the feel-drapes-hiss is Ethsharitic, why would it want to fix Northern sorcery? How would it know how?”
“I don’t know!” Dorna shouted. “I don’t even know for sure that the fil drepessis was Ethsharitic originally; it could have been Northern, for all I know.”