Something sharp pricked his knee, and he looked down to see Storm Silverhand slipping her dagger into its scabbard. She did it without looking, for she was scowling up at him with a worried expression.
Red eye? Her fingertalk was as fast as Galaeron's, which made it difficult to follow. That's the sigil.
Sigil? With his long fingers, Aris suspected his reply seemed to Storm like he was drawling or stuttering. There's a sigil?
Fur the tackle!
Storm pointed at the palace, and Aris finally realized what she was trying to remind him of. Manynests' departure was the signal.
Sorry, he signed. I'm a little nervous.
What's to be nervous about? Storm replied. This plan has to be better than the last one.
That should make me feel better?
Aris removed the two largest hammers from his tool belt, and fixed his eye on a nose-shaped burl about twenty feet off the ground. The hardest part of his job would be keeping that knot in sight. If he went to the wrong one, Galaeron's plan would fall.
An immense roar erupted on the opposite side of the hill, and fans of gold and crimson blast magic spread across the sky behind the palace. The three phaerimm rose from their hiding places and stirred the air into a 'tempest as they hurled questions back and forth, but none of them showed any sign of departing their posts. Heart rising into his throat, Aris raised his hammers and prepared to make a run he knew he could not survive.
Storm laid a restraining hand on his knee.
Aris looked down to find her shaking her head. She raised a single finger, then looked back up the slope.
The battle continued to rage on the other side of the palace. The hill shuddered beneath their feet and sheets of flame licked around the walls of the palace, and still the phaerimm remained on post Aris cocked his brow. They had only a minute or two before the thornbacks realized that all of the noise was being made by just two Chosen. After that, it would be only seconds before they realized the attack was a diversion and returned to his side of the palace.
As the largest target on the hill, Aris knew what would become of him if he was still on the battlefield then. He wouldn't even mind-not much-except that would mean that Galaeron's plan had failed. Evereska's art would be lost forever.
Storm took her hand from Aris's knee. Aris nodded, she nodded back-and two of the phaerimm flew off toward the other side of the hill.
Storm's jaw fell. She closed it, then flashed the quick fingertalk sentence: Told you so!
She pointed at the last phaerimm, her finger darkening to black as she whispered an incantation so softly even Aris couldn't hear it
The last phaerimm left his hiding place and raced after his fellows.
For a moment, Aris was too shocked to react. There was nobody between him and the burl. All he had to do was run up there, reach through the antimagic shell, and knock a hole in the wall. Then Lord Duirsar and Kiinyon Colbathin and the High Mages and the Long Watch would start pouring out on their ropes, leaping across the antimagic shell into the battle-torn meadow, where Storm would by then have laid a teleport circle that would take them straight to the statue of Hanali Celanil that Aris wanted so desperately to see.
"What are you waiting for?" She pulled a packet of amber dust from inside her cloak, raised her arms so Aris could pick her up and carry her up to the palace, and said, "Plans don't work any better than this."
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
2 Eleasias, the Year of Wild Magic
Galaeron and Takari arrived at the statue of Hanali Celanil to find a small circle of phaerimm using all four hands to pull golden strands of magic off the hem of the goddess's gown. They were feeding the threads out behind them, filling the air with a shimmering snarl of loops and whorls so dense and bright that it was difficult to see the thornbacks themselves. Where the tangle touched the ground, it passed through the paving stones as sunlight passes through water, leaving the impression that the great statue stood upon the surface of a dark, still pond rather than a courtyard of granite cobble-stones. Galaeron counted twelve phaerimm pulling thread, with a thirteenth watching from beneath a tree at the edge of the plaza.
That's the one Manynests told us about" He did not bother with fingertalk. Though the phaerimm could undoubtedly eavesdrop into the Shadow Fringe where he and Takari were hiding, they could not do it without using Weave magic-and in the Shadow Fringe, Weave magic would shine like a beacon light for Galaeron. Tm fairly sure that*s their leader. It's the only one we absolutely have to kill, so if something goes wrong-"
"Nothing's going to go wrong, now that you've come to your senses and decided to bring me along." Takari let a hand drop the hilt of her borrowed darksword. "I only wish Keya would've given me Kuhl's sword. That one I can hang on to."
"Kuhl's sword is not Keya's to give," Galaeron said. "And Kuhl has need of it himself."
It was the fifth or sixth time he had reminded her of that, and his patience was giving way to alarm. There was a dark familiarity in the way that simple fact kept eluding her, in how every conversation seemed to return to Kuhl's dark-sword.
"Our need is greater." She pointed at the phaerimm leader and said, "You said yourself we absolutely have to kill that one."
"That is what we absolutely have to do. Kuhl and the others have to destroy the defensive perimeter-absolutely. If they fall, our success means nothing."
As he spoke, Galaeron looked Takari full in the eyes. Though hardly veiled hi darkness, the irises were shot through with tiny streaks of shadow. She had to be told; it was her only chance of controlling her hunger for the sword.
"Takari, I didn't come to my senses. We thought it best to keep you away from Kuhl and his darksword."
"What?" she asked. "Why would you keep me away from something that is mine by right?"
"Because it isn't yours by any right. You only think it is because you've been shadow touched."
"Shadow touched!" Takari objected. "I earned that sword!"
"If s an heirloom. How could you earn…" Galaeron let the question trail off as he realized what Takari was saying. He looked at her stomach, which had not yet begun to bulge, and asked, "You did that on purpose?"
Takari raised her chin and said, "Of course it was on purpose. Do you think I would lay with that roth? by accident?"
"Of course not, but neither did I think you had done it to steal his darksword."
"'Steal' is such a human word," Takari said, rolling her eyes. "I just wanted to use it and maybe keep it after he died."
"After you killed him," Galaeron corrected. He turned to keep an eye on the tree branch. Manynests would be arriving soon. "You always meant to keep it"
"How do you know what I meant-"
"I know a shadow when I see it, Takari," Galaeron said.
The phaerimm leader sent an angry gust whirling across the cobblestones, and the SpellGather began to pull threads twice as fast That would be word of the attack on Cloud-crown Hill. Galaeron did not have much time to convince Takari of her peril. The way she was thinking, once the battle started she would run down to take the darksword from Kuhl.
"There's a shadow in your eyes," Galaeron continued. "You wanted a darksword for yourself, and Keya showed you how to get what you sought."
"That doesn't mean I was going to kill him," Takari retorted. "Humans have short lives-especially around here-and I'm patient"
"Maybe that was what you intended, before you touched the sword, but you were going to kill him at the Floating Gardens."