Kaleb headed back toward the hostel in which they'd acquired rooms, leaving the armor-and the man trapped and silently shrieking within-to melt slowly into a puddle of slag.
"West."
Kaleb rolled his eyes so hard he could practically see the voice inside his head. "Of course he's going west," he whispered as he leaned out the window of the austere little room. "You said he was in Emdimir. Unless he's decided to liberate Rahariem on his own-or invade Cephira itself-there's nowhere to go but west."
Nenavar's sigh came clear through the psychic link. "Don't be tiresome, Kaleb. It's all our Cephiran friends have reported to me-and anyway, it's a start. Get moving, and I'll give you more when I have more."
Kaleb left the room, gathering his possessions with a single swoop of his arm. A second wave of his hand unlatched the door to the chamber beside his, and he slipped inside. For a moment he stood, watching the slumbering figure, scarcely visible in the light of a single candle.
Mellorin moaned softly in her sleep and then, perhaps feeling his attention upon her, sat bolt upright on the lumpy mattress. She gasped, pulling the sheets to her chin-an amusing reaction, thought Kaleb, since her slip was more modest than some formal gowns.
"I'm sorry I startled you," he said softly.
"Kaleb, what's wrong? Is…" She glanced through the narrow gap in the shutters. "It's the middle of the night."
"I know, but we have to get moving. I'll explain when I've woken Jassion. You'd better get dressed."
"A-all right."
Nobody moved.
"Um, Kaleb?"
"Damn," he said, weighting the word with as much exaggerated disappointment as he could manage. She smiled, despite herself, and Kaleb could not help but return it-for it seemed unlikely, now, that he would ever need suffer a repeat of her earlier defiance. He turned away, moving toward the third room as Mellorin began to change. JASSION HAD BEEN LESS sanguine about being awakened in the dark and silent hours of the morning, but Kaleb's news mollified him quickly enough.
"How?" the baron demanded as he darted around the room like an angry hummingbird, trying to dress himself for travel and gather up his belongings without so much as a second wasted in hesitation.
"The spell on Davro," Kaleb lied. "The tug's gotten a lot stronger."
"I thought you said it couldn't pinpoint him like that," Mellorin said from the doorway.
The sorcerer shrugged. "I also said I'd never attempted to backtrack a spell like this. Maybe it fluctuates. Maybe he's trying to use it to find Davro, or someone else. Hell, maybe he's picked up on my tampering and he's laying a trap."
Jassion finally paused in his efforts. "And if so?"
"Then we move carefully. It's still taking us where we want to go.
"Keep in mind," he continued as Jassion resumed his efforts, "that I'm not claiming to know precisely where he is. I think I can get us close enough to where my other divinations-our others," he corrected with a glance at Mellorin, "can pinpoint him." Actually, Nenavar and the Cephirans can guide me close enough to where the blood-magic can pinpoint him. But you don't need to know that just yet. "Still, we're talking a lot of ground, and he's not exactly staying put." There was just enough emphasis on those last words to inspire the baron to redouble his efforts, and he stood ready to leave but a few moments later.
"We have to stop on the way out," Kaleb told him, "and acquire blinders for the horses."
Two jaws dropped.
"You just said we had to hurry!" Jassion protested.
"And there aren't any leather-goods shops open at this time of night," Mellorin added.
"Then we break in and steal them. Or leave sufficient coin to pay, if you'd prefer. But trust me, they're necessary, and they'll prove more than worth the time they take to acquire."
And again, as was becoming a habit that irritated Mellorin and drove Jassion up the wall more swiftly than Kaleb's telekinesis, the sorcerer refused to explain any further. IT WAS AN HOUR, several miles, and three sets of blinders later that they finally got their answer. The road from Kevrireun wasn't a true highway, but was sufficiently maintained that walking the horses in the dark had proved merely inconvenient, rather than dangerous. Owls and crickets called from afar, growing silent as the travelers approached, and the late night hours were just chilly enough to bring a shiver to the skin.
Not long after the lingering lights of Kevrireun had vanished behind them, Kaleb spotted a small knoll up ahead. Handing his reins to Jassion without a backward glance, he jogged ahead to the top of the rise, whispering a spell to enhance his sight. It wasn't much of a vantage point, but it'd do for a start.
There he waited until his companions caught up. Jassion hurled the bridle back at him, and only Kaleb's swift reflexes prevented them from lashing his face like a whip.
"Do I look like a servant to you?"
Mellorin snorted. "You should know better than to give Kaleb an opening like that."
The sorcerer ignored both of them as he handed around the blinders. "Put these on," he instructed them. "On the horses," he added to Jassion, as though the baron could possibly have misunderstood. "You're shortsighted enough without them."
Once they were in place, Kaleb moved from animal to animal, adjusting the blinders to block all sight, rather than merely peripheral vision. "Hold the reins tight."
With a sickening lurch, they were elsewhere. The world dissolved, rather as though a divine painter had wiped a wet cloth across a backdrop of watercolors, and re-formed just as swiftly. Jassion and Mellorin both stumbled as the road vanished from beneath their feet, reappearing before they could fall.
And it was the same road, of that they were certain, but the surrounding trees and shrubs had changed. They stood on a flat stretch, rather than atop the rise, and they heard a chorus of night creatures silence itself mid-song. Mellorin swayed against the saddle of her palfrey while Jassion collapsed to one knee. The horses whickered in confusion, noses raised to sniff at foreign scents, but otherwise remained docile.
"Only a few miles, I'm afraid," Kaleb said casually. "The hills around here aren't really high enough to see any farther."
"What…?" Jassion was clearly having trouble with the concept of syllables. "What did…? What…?"
Mellorin nodded sickly as she extended a hand to her uncle, the other wrapped tight about her saddle horn. "My thoughts exactly." Then, before Kaleb could answer, "You teleported us!"
"I did indeed."
Jassion struggled to his feet, opening his mouth to speak.
"Save your angry sputtering," Kaleb told him. "No, I can't take us to Rebaine, because I can only teleport to someplace I either know well, or I can see. And I didn't do it before because these short-range jumps are exhausting. It wasn't worth it, until now.
"Does that about cover it? Or did you have any other objections you wanted me to shoot down?"
"How long until we need to do that again?" Jassion asked, his face stiff.
"Not for a while. I need a few minutes to reorient myself, and we'll have to find another piece of high ground or I won't be able to see far enough to make it worthwhile." He smiled. "We could stop and boil some tea to calm your stomach, if you'd like."
Jassion yanked the blinders from his horse and began to walk.
"I don't think he likes you very much," Mellorin whispered, only half-joking, as she and Kaleb followed.
"Oh, good. I'd hate to think I'd been wasting my time." Then, at her expression, "I'm sorry, Mellorin. Your uncle just really rubs me the wrong way."
"I think a lot of people do."
"True. Not you, though." Kaleb couldn't help himself. "In fact, I'm really hoping for the opportunity for you to rub me the right-"
He choked off as Mellorin deliberately trod on his toes.