"Fall back and descend," Bareris ordered. He seemed to speak in a normal tone, but his bardic skills projected his voice across the sky.
The scouts touched down several hundred paces from the edge of the town, in a field where the new spring grass had taken on a crystalline appearance, gleaming in the moonlight. Averse to having such uncanny stuff beneath its feet, one griffon clawed chunks of earth away.
Tammith's bats whirled around one another, and she shifted to human form. When she did, Bareris's appearance stung her somehow. He looked haggard, fierce, and sad at the same time. She reminded herself she didn't care. Creatures like her were incapable of it.
"Well," Bareris said, "we see them. The question is, what to make of them? Captain Iltazyarra, did you hear anything about floating rocks before you fled the Keep of Sorrows?"
"No," she said.
"That's too bad. Malark's people haven't reported anything about them, either."
"We know the blue fire passed this way," another soldier said, unclipping a waterskin from his saddle. "Maybe it went through Solzepar, changed the ground somehow, and now we get… this."
"That's a reasonable guess," Bareris said, "for it certainly seems as if the flame can do anything. But up until now, everything that has been changed or destroyed has been affected immediately, at least as far as we know. But we have to consider the possibility that a contingent of necromancers is creating hanging islands."
"Because they know our army is coming this way," Tammith said.
"Yes. And since we would pass under their aerial stronghold, the enemy could rain destruction on our heads."
The soldier who'd spoken before wiped his mouth and stuck the stopper back in his waterskin. "If we're worried about it, the army can just steer clear of them."
"We can," Bareris said, "but only by leaving the road, which slows the march. The tharchions won't do that unless it's proven to be necessary. It's our job to determine whether it is."
"Does that mean prowling around on top of the rocks?" another warrior asked.
"Yes," Bareris said, "but maybe not all of them. One of the larger fragments has a walled stone house on it, grander and more defensible than the buildings on any of the others. It's the structure I'd occupy if I were going to install myself up there, and it's where we'll begin our search. Up!" He kicked his mount in the flanks, and it spread its wings and sprang into the air.
They all climbed above the island, then spiraled down toward it. When they landed in the courtyard, symbols graven above the door became visible, stylized representations of a lightning bolt, a snowflake, and other emblems of elemental forces with a hand hovering above as if to manipulate them all. The place was, or had been, a chapterhouse of the Order of Evocation.
"This," said Bareris, "looks like an ideal place for necromancers to set up shop." He swung himself off his griffon and his subordinates dismounted. Tammith changed to her human form.
Bareris climbed the steps to the sharply arched door and tried the handle. "Locked," he said.
"Perhaps by enchantment," Tammith said.
"With luck, it won't matter." He sang, and his magic set sparkling motes dancing in the air. Tammith remembered how amazed he'd been the first time he'd sung and produced not merely melody but a green shimmer and the scent of pine, the moment when he'd discovered he was a true bard. Once they realized what it meant, she'd felt just as elated.
She wished she'd died then, or during one of the happy times that followed. Any time, really, before he made up his mind to sail away and seek his fortune.
He twisted the handle and the door creaked open on blackness. He drew his sword and sang luminescence into the blade. The steel shined with a white light brighter and steadier than the flicker of any torch.
"Come on," he said.
"Let me take the lead," Tammith said. "My senses are sharper, and I can withstand attacks that would kill a mortal."
He scowled as if he found the suggestion distasteful, but he said, "All right. Just don't range too far ahead. We're stronger if we stay together."
Beyond the door was a spacious entry hall, its appointments reflecting the luxury Red Wizards took for granted. The walls rose the full three-story height of the house, to one railed gallery, then another, and finally to a stained-glass skylight.
Nothing moved-nothing but the intruders and their long black shadows flowing across the walls. The house remained silent. But Tammith smelled tears, mucus, sweat, and the sour stink of fear. It was the way her prey often smelled when they realized she was about to feed on them.
"Someone's here," she said. She led her companions up two flights of stairs to the upper gallery, then opened the door to a small, sparsely furnished chamber with a narrow bed. A servant's quarters, or perhaps an apprentice's. The thump of a racing heart led her to the wooden chest by the wall.
The box wasn't very big. The lanky Mulan boy in the patched red robe surely hadn't found it easy to fold himself compactly enough to fit inside. When Tammith lifted the lid, he yelped and goggled up at her.
"Easy," Tammith said, "we're friends, here to help you."
"It's true," Bareris said, stepping beside her. "We serve the council, not Szass Tam. Come out of there." He reached to help the lad up.
Instead of taking the proffered hand, the boy pulled his own in closer to his chest. "I can't. It isn't safe. I haven't heard them in a while, but I know they're still here."
Bareris shot a glance at one of his men. The legionnaire nodded and positioned himself at the door.
"It's all right," Tammith told the apprentice, "we'll protect you. Please, stand up." She locked eyes with him and stabbed with the force of her will.
The youth's resistance crumbled, and he suffered her to lift him out of the chest. Still, his eyes rolled and he trembled, so frightened her powers couldn't numb him.
"Tell us who you're hiding from," Bareris said. "Is it northerners?"
"Northerners?" The apprentice shook his head.
"Who, then?" Bareris persisted. "Does this have something to do with the blue fire?"
The boy closed his eyes and tears oozed out from under the lids. "Yes. Some of the folk ran away, but the wizards cast the runes and said the flames would miss the town. They laughed at the people who ran!"
"But the flames didn't miss," Tammith said.
"No. I don't know if the wave split in two or what, but suddenly the fires were here. Some of the mages translated themselves away to safety, but most of us didn't know how. Travel magic's not a part of evocation. And those who knew didn't bother to carry the rest.
"It hurt when the wave swept through. It was like drowning in pain and glare. But afterward, everything seemed the same, and we laughed and cheered, even after we realized no one else was rushing into the streets to do the same. Because we'd survived, even if the rest of Solzepar hadn't. We decided the wards bound into the foundations of the house had saved us."
"But they hadn't," Bareris said.
"No," the novice said. "In time, it occurred to us that we ought to let our superiors know we were still alive, but that the rest of the town was likely dead. We had an enchanted mirror in our library that allowed us to communicate from afar, and we all gathered around it. And that was when the spells came alive."
Tammith didn't understand. Judging from Bareris's frown, he didn't either. "What spells?" he asked.
"The spells in the scrolls and books on the shelves," the apprentice said. "I don't know how else to put it. They jumped out all at once, crazy jagged forms whirling around us, all flashing or rimmed with blue. Then one of them, some sort of frost, poured itself into Mistress Kranna's eyes."
"You mean it possessed her?" Bareris asked. "That doesn't make sense. Spells aren't demons. They're just… formulae."