Nyara was already inside her father's lands, if not his stronghold; Skif had relayed that via Cymry just past midnight. He and Wintermoon had seen her safely past the first line of defenses, and had gone to the rallypoint, the place she would reach if she could when this was all over. But there was no way of knowing how far she was at this point.
Please, whatever gods there be-Star-Eyed, Kemos, Astera, whatever you call yourselves-let us all come through this with bodies and minds and hearts intactelspeth was exhausted and getting wearier with every passing moment; this business of springing traps was not as easy as it had sounded.
Yes, they could use the power of the ley-lines to augment their own-when they could reach them. Some of Falconsbane's own lines overlaid the natural ones, rendering them inaccessible. And some of the lines were protected against meddling by Falconsbane's own power. No, nothing was as simple as it had sounded when they first made this plan, and it had not truly seemed all that simple then!
She caught Darkwind's eye; he smiled at her, but it seemed more than a little strained.
"He's in about the same shape you are," Gwena said gently..And your imagination is not acting up. You are being watched. Imperfectly the Shin'a'in are doing what they can-but Falconsbane knows you're here and he knows who you are." Well, that was the object of this little excursion, wasn't it? To take the attention off of Nyara and the gryphons? Nevertheless, she felt a chill run up her back as the feeling of being watched increased, and the malevolence behind the watching "eyes" made itself felt.
"Vree says the gryphons are done!" Darkwind exulted, suddenly. "the last line is loose!" Distance-Mindspeech was a hazard around Falconsbane-the kind he was watching for, at any rate. But they had something he didn't; the gryphons Mindspoke to Vree, and he in turn to Darkwind-and all at a level it was doubtful Falconsbane was even aware of, much less could eavesdrop upon.
She and Gwena turned, following Darkwind's lead as if they had decided they had come far enough on an ordinary patrol, and were turning back.
Ice crawled up her spine, her stomach was one huge knot of fear and nausea, and she kept looking out of the corners of her eyes for the first signs that Falconsbane was going to attack. We can't run. If we run, he'll chase us. We can't hold him off if he goes all-out against us. So we have to look as if we're just changing directions, and hope that he doesn't lose interest...Huh. Better hope that he doesn't decide he's not going to let us slip away when he realizes we're headed away from him!
At least we know the gryphons succeeded.
If only they had some such bond with Nyara. She licked lips gone dry with a tongue just as dry with fear, and felt her stomach tighten a little more.
Nyara crept along the dusty passages between the walls of her father's stronghold, moving as quietly as only she could. In this, she was her father's superior; he had never mastered the art of moving without noise, without even the sound of a breath. Then again, he had never had need to. He had never had anyone to fear or avoid.
In all his life, he never had to hide from anyone.
Not like a certain small girl, who had huddled for hours in these passageways to avoid him-to avoid what he had in store for her.
She felt fear starting to cramp her stomach, and sternly told it to relax.
Deep breaths. Slowly. Tension brings mistakes; fear is his weapon.
She was glad of the dust, for all that it might have choked her, had she not come prepared for it. She breathed through a silken cloth wrapped closely around nose and mouth; slowly, evenly, taking each step only after testing the surface before her. The dust meant that no one had walked this passage since she had last been here-and that had been years. The last time-certainly it had been two years and more.
The last time she had been here was long before she had even dreamed of escape from her father's power. And then it had taken a year of planning before she dared to try.
How bitter it had been to learn that the attempt had been watched and planned by Falconsbane all along...That thought plays into his hands again. No, Nyara; once you were free of him, you did things he had never anticipated you would. You won free of him. You turned his own plan against him. Surely it is he who tastes bitterness now.
She put that old disappointment behind her, throttled her fear again, and concentrated completely on setting each foot down carefully, noiselessly.
At the moment, this was the only thing in the universe that was important. What was past could not be changed; the future lay beyond this passageway. This was all that she controlled, this moment of now, and she must control it completely...So far, Need had detected no alarms or traps in this passageway itself.
Perhaps her father did not feel he needed any. Perhaps he trusted in the narrowness of the passage to keep anything of real danger out of it.
Certainly it was much too small to permit the movement of an armed man.
But not too small for one small, slender female, armed with only the sword that she kept out and pointed into the darkness before her.
Thirty steps from here was her goal; her father's study. One of his workrooms; it lay in a suite in the heart of his stronghold, the heart of his power. There was an entrance into this passage from that room; behind a tapestry at the farther end, through the back of a wooden wardrobe that Falconsbane kept some of his special garments in. He knew all about it, of course, for he had built it-but because he knew about it, she did not think he ever thought about it anymore. The passage and the entrance had been there since before she was born, and no one that he knew of had ever used it but him in all that time. If she was very lucky, he might assume that since no one ever had, no one ever would.
Twenty steps more.
"He's ahead up there," Need cautioned. "In the suite. No one but him, and he's busy." Ten steps.
She had never prayed before: Don't worry about that, kitten. I'm praying enough for both of u I'm an expert at it." Five...Elspeth sensed something change, like the sharpness in the air before lightning strikes. Alarm shrilled along her nerves, and every hair on her body stood on end. A bitter, metallic taste filled her throat. Gwena snorted and froze where she stood, sensing it as well-Darkwind and Brytha beside them did the same at the same moment. They were no longer being watched ...They were being targeted!
No use to run now-they couldn't escape what was coming.
"Shields!" Darkwind cried. He stuck out his hand, blindly, as they had planned if it came to this; she linked to Gwena and caught his hand, and with it, his link. He was better at shielding; she flung her power to him, taking whatever Gwena could pour into her.
She sensed the blow coming and cringed over Gwena's neck; he met the blow with one of his own-a defense of offense, something she hadn't even thought of.
The two bolts of power met over their heads in a silent explosion of power and a shower of very physical sparks that landed in the snow all around him, sizzling and melting the drifts wherever they landed. He took the moment to weave a hasty shield about them both, but it had none of the layering or complexity he needed.
The next bolt came, splashing and burning against the shield, scorching it half away and blinding her. Physically, as well as in Mage-Sight.
A thunderclap of sound deafened her in the next instant. They hadn't had enough time-they hadn't known Falconsbane could strike like this.