"Very likely," Cor-Ibis said. "I agree that the risk must be less than venturing through this forest. East to the castle’s entrance – the point where the road begins to ascend. We can hope that such a well-frequented place will prove to be less deadly."
"And beyond that point? A well-guarded road is not so easy to pass as a set-spell whose trigger you can detect and avoid." Cor-Ibis' glimmering form was briefly eclipsed as Avahn moved towards him. "And past the road? We are in Decia."
"The road must wait until daylight, at the very least," Cor-Ibis agreed.
"And I know of one who will aid us, in Taedrin City," offered Herald N’Taive. "If we can reach her, we have shelter, resources."
"Is it at all viable to build our own gate, Illukar?" Avahn asked.
"Between us, when we have recovered, we could do that. I have a rahlstone, though it must be nearing the limits of its use. However, it is unlikely that we could complete a gate before being set upon, and we cannot even make an attempt tonight, nor, I fear, tomorrow. Too much of our strength has been spent in battle. Until then, we need shelter, a defensible position and more information with which to plan our next move. Fortunately, we are not all obviously Palladian."
"And Estarion?" the Kierash asked, speaking after a long silence. "Estarion, who is mad enough to summon wild magic when his plans for victory go awry? Estarion who we believe holds an artefact capable of summoning gates of unlimited power and frequency?"
"And who may be hunting us as we speak," Cor-Ibis finished, composure steady in the face of so many obstacles. "I have not overlooked his threat, but I wish to see the road first. If its guards are easily avoided – as they may be, when Decia’s forces are surely in disarray following the mass departure to war – then I will be able to send you on to Taedrin City while I attempt Estarion. But your safety must come first, Kierash."
"Palladium must come first, Keridahl," Islantar said, stiffly. "We cannot turn aside from Estarion’s threat, not even if it were my mother’s life at risk."
"Perhaps." Cor-Ibis' tone suggested that Islantar would be sent to safety no matter what his objections. "In either case, our first move must be to shelter."
"Falcon Hill is pocked with a maze of caves and caverns," N’Taive suggested. "I saw dozens of entrances on my previous visits. Estarion is rumoured to have chambers within, and I know that one entrance is guarded, near the top of the road. I would not care to venture deeply into any of them, but there are enough shallow depressions to at least get us out of this damp."
"Where we can discuss this further," Cor-Ibis said. "And, if you will agree to it, Keris an Rynstar, to examine the rest of the Hoard of Kersym Bleak."
"The rest–?" Avahn repeated.
"I took away more than the Horn, Avahn," Medair replied. She knew Cor-Ibis well enough to have expected that he would stop ignoring the implications of the hoard linked to the legend of the Horn when the situation required it.
"Of course." Avahn’s voice was rich with self-disgust. "Well, I’ll beat myself over the head about that later. Shall we get on?"
"Close together," Kel ar Haedrin suggested. "And slowly."
They moved towards the understated beacon provided by Cor-Ibis and it seemed to Medair that she had taken no more than two steps when the pulse of magic so densely present in the forest altered.
"It’s reacting to us," Cor-Ibis said. "Be alert for anything."
"Mist," said one of the kaschens, the no-longer confident female. It closed around them with startling speed, a dense cloud rising from the ground, curling and twisting in the wind.
"Clasp hands," Cor-Ibis said, his voice as muffled as a man speaking from beneath ten blankets. Medair thought he said something further, but could not make it out. The mist closed around her like a cage.
Reaching out, she tried to find Islantar, who had been closest, but her fingers touched only icy vapour.
"Hello?" she said, then repeated herself, more loudly. Her voice sounded distant to her own ears, and she could hear nothing from those who had been only a few feet away moments before. She was alone in a still and silent world of white, the wind cut off as completely as the Keridahl.
Being literally muffled made Medair feel far less detached from the question of present and future. Resisting a panicky impulse to run forward groping for her companions, she stood still, attempting to orient herself. She had been facing Gyrfalcon Castle – or Falcon Black, as Herald N’Taive called it. If she could somehow continue in a straight line, she should find her way to the hill’s base.
Spreading her arms wide in the hopes of encountering the others as she moved, Medair took two steps forward. Her right fingers brushed something and she gasped, but it was only the bark of another tree. It was fortunate that Falcon Hill was a large target, as she doubted that she could keep to a straight line through thick forest. She could only hope to head in the same general direction until she found something other than trees and mist.
Concentrating on keeping to a straight line, Medair walked directly into someone’s back, merely a dim shape through the shrouding mist. Her heart leapt in fright, even though she knew it had to be one of her companions. A face came close to hers, the outline barely recognizable as Avahn.
"Medair," he said, voice muted even at close range. A shape loomed at his shoulder, easily identifiable by the faint luminescence which clung to him. They formed a loose triangle, both Cor-Ibis men taking one of her arms, as if the mist might snatch her away.
"You were closest to Kierash Islantar, Keris," said Cor-Ibis. His clasp on her wrist seemed unnecessarily firm. "Can we hope to retrace your steps?" he continued, and she took reassurance from his businesslike tone.
"He was directly before me," she replied, shaking her head uselessly in the gloom. "I walked through the place he had been standing and there was no-one in reach."
"The mist disorients as well as obscures," Cor-Ibis said. At close quarters, the glow of his skin clearly revealed his drawn face. Had he rested after the enormity of the shield-casting? The set-spells he’d cast on the wall could have been prepared over the last handful days, but more likely only in the previous few hours. And then he’d released them in rapid succession, each instance an additional drain on his reserves. They were in the heart of Decia, and he had none of the advantages of his adept’s strength.
Nor did he quite retain his usual calm, not with Palladium’s heir brought to the enemy’s stronghold. "The Kierash could be two feet from us and we would not know. A dispell may help, but I doubt it could vanquish this mist."
"If it cleared a small area, we will at least be able to collect any others, like Medair, who have not travelled far."
"Avahn, are you as close to having exhausted your reserves as your cousin?" Medair asked, trying to make out his face in the tiny amount of light Cor-Ibis emanated.
"Not quite." She thought he smiled. "It’s not often I can expect my casting to be more powerful than yours, Illukar."
"Just do not overestimate your reserve," Cor-Ibis replied, looking about them as the mist seemed to close more tightly, filaments of white threading through strands of hair escaping his once neat plait. "If you do not have another set, cast quickly, before they move on."
Avahn nodded, releasing Medair’s arm but staying so close his elbow brushed her as he made rapid passes. A dispell did not take long to cast, but every moment gave the others the chance to move out of range. While Avahn worked, Cor-Ibis cast a set spell mageglow, which gave the cloaking mist a warm glow but by no means cut through it.