Call of Wizardry, page 13
Dianthe squatted beside her. “That’s amazing,” she said. She drew her belt knife and went to work stripping the meat from a skinned rabbit. “You could almost use that as a weapon.”
“That’s an uncomfortable thought, but you’re right.” Sienne hauled the cookpot over the flames and summoned water in a neat glob to fill it. “I might even be able to boil water without wizardry, just using small magics.”
“That is a good thing,” Kalanath said. He dropped another skinned rabbit to lie next to Dianthe. “If we do not need a fire that makes us noticed in the valley, we can still have hot food.”
“You could clean that,” Dianthe pointed out.
“I will catch one more first. And—” Kalanath went still, lifting his head as if listening to the wind. “Something comes.”
Sienne got to her feet. “What is it?”
He shook his head. “It flows like water. I do not understand the sound.” He took a few steps away from the fire. “Wait here.”
Alaric, kneeling beside his bedroll across the clearing, looked up as Kalanath approached. “I don’t—no. I hear it too.” He rose and followed Kalanath. “Where’s Perrin?”
“I am here,” Perrin said, emerging from the shadows. “What is it?”
“Something big,” Kalanath said.
Sienne became aware of a sighing sound, like the wind in the branches. But the air was perfectly still, the fire burning steadily, and the sound was too deep for wind. As it grew louder, more sounds emerged: the pattering of rain on hard earth, a high twittering like distant birds, a rhythmic swishing as if a river suddenly flowed nearby. Sienne remembered what she’d thought about animate trees and had the sudden feeling that the natural world had come to life and was advancing on them, intent on wiping them off the face of the earth.
She found Alaric had moved to stand beside her, sword drawn, his shape backlit by the fire. “Kalanath, don’t get in the way of shout,” he said. “Sienne, are you ready?”
“I can’t see anything.” Her voice shook. “I could cast scorch.”
“You’d set the forest on fire.”
“That might not be a bad thing.”
The noise had grown until it filled the evening air. Shadows shifted beneath the firs, and then a wave of darkness swept toward them across the forest floor, flowing around the tree trunks in an onslaught that made Sienne cry out in fear. She instantly felt stupid. She’d faced worse things than darkness.
Stepping forward, she began casting shout. Maybe it wouldn’t do any good against shadows, but Alaric was right, she shouldn’t set the forest ablaze with scorch. The harsh syllables of the evocation echoed more loudly than the shadows’ advance, building to an almost painful pressure in her chest.
“No!” Alaric shouted, grabbing her arm. Startled, she pronounced the last syllable wrong and felt as if she’d been stabbed by the spell lashing out at her. She gasped and clutched her chest, and Alaric put his arms around her, holding her up. “Sorry,” he said, “but it’s—they’re no danger to us.”
Sienne blinked, and squinted into the dimness. Dark shapes moved beyond the firelight, as if shadows had come to life and surrounded them. Nearer the fire, bright eyes caught the light and reflected it back at them like a cat’s. Then a dog twin to Leaf stepped forward, followed by another, and another, until their circle of light appeared to be holding a wave of shadows at bay.
“It’s the Pekkanen,” Alaric said.
The first Pekkanen continued to advance until it stood five feet from Alaric and Sienne. A new voice, one deeper than Leaf’s, said in Sorjic, You bring trouble. We want no part of it. Go, and do not return.
11
Sienne held still. The Pekkanen quivered with pent-up energy, as if they were half a breath from bolting. Alaric released Sienne and faced them. “Trouble for the wizard,” he said in Sorjic. “Not for the Pekkanen.”
Trouble for the wizard makes trouble for us. The coal-black creature nearest Alaric shifted its weight, lifting its nose as if scenting the air.
“We don’t intend to leave the wizard alive to make trouble.”
Others have tried. The Pekkanen remember. The wizard cannot be defeated.
Alaric took a step forward. The Pekkanen remained still. “I say he can. My friends and I have learned the secret of the binding and we intend to free the Sassaven.”
You must kill the wizard. He will not allow his creation to go free. The wizard cannot be killed.
“Storm. You never used to be this fearful.”
When you spoke of fighting the wizard, you were young. It was a child’s dream. I should not have listened. The Pekkanen, Storm, sounded as weary as Leaf had.
“I’ve spent the last eleven years looking for a way to make that dream a reality.” Alaric stepped away from Sienne, forcing some of the shadowy wave back. “Look at me. I’m not a child.” He shivered, and in the next breath, the unicorn stood there, his brown flanks nearly black in the firelight. He lowered his head to touch his horn to Storm’s head.
Storm sat on his haunches and tilted his head so the horn grazed his cheek without cutting him. You are full Sassaven. How is it possible?
“We discovered the original ritual,” Sienne said, aware that Alaric couldn’t speak in unicorn form. “It transformed Alaric without subjecting him to the binding.”
Storm stood and walked toward Sienne. And you, he said. You were transformed as well. You are like the wizard.
She wanted to protest she was no such thing, but took the creature’s meaning. “I had the conduit opened, yes. I don’t know everything that means yet.”
Storm looked from Alaric to Sienne and back again. I will listen—for now, he said, and sank down to lie on the ground, his head held alertly up. A wave of motion rippled outward as the rest of the Pekkanen followed his example. Sienne took a few steps toward Alaric just as he transformed from his unicorn shape. He lowered himself to sit cross-legged before Storm, and Sienne knelt beside him. Behind her, she could feel movement as the others did the same. It felt like the opening moves of a ritual she could barely imagine.
Fir-scented wind swept across them, stirring her hair and chilling her once more. The fire behind them chuckled as the wind whipped it higher. Alaric rested his hands on his knees and regarded Storm. “We have a long way to go to reach the wizard, across territory full of Sassaven who could alert him to our presence. We want your help in moving invisibly across the valley, and in locating my family, who will support us.”
You want us to ally ourselves with you, Storm said. He sniffed the air and added, A storm is coming.
“Better for us if it drives the Sassaven indoors.”
Worse if it slows your progress.
“I choose to see it as an advantage.”
Storm sniffed the air again. You intend us to scout for you? Guide your path?
“Yes. If you will.”
If you fail, and the wizard learns of our help, we will suffer.
“We won’t fail.”
You cannot know that.
A quiet hum, pitched high enough to be called a whine, rose up from the massed Pekkanen. It echoed the cry of the rising wind and raised the hair on the back of Sienne’s neck. Alaric shifted his weight and leaned forward. He and Storm might have been the only ones in the clearing. “You’re slaves, just as much as the Sassaven are,” he said. “You’re only safe because the wizard has his attention on the Sassaven. When he notices you, he kills you. You live rough in caves and burrows that freeze in the winter, and there’s never enough to eat. What I propose will free your people just as it will mine. You don’t have to help us. We’ll do this with or without you. But it’s time for you to make a decision—continue to live in fear, or take a chance on freedom.”
The whine grew louder. Storm barked twice, and it cut off abruptly. He gazed at Alaric with liquid black eyes that flickered with reflected firelight. What is your plan?
“Sneak into the tower. Force the wizard to restore his host’s heart. Kill the wizard.”
Genneva is lost. You should not risk your plan on saving her.
“Then she’s still alive.” Alaric let out a deep breath. “I won’t fail her.”
She will fail you. You know how a host is transformed. She will fight you.
“Then I’ll knock her unconscious and do it anyway.”
Storm raised his head in a defiant gesture. We will not help if you are a fool. Swear you will not let your love for your sister keep you from your goal.
Alaric’s expression hardened. “I won’t—”
Swear it. Or we will not help.
Alaric unfolded his legs and made as if to stand. “Then—”
“Alaric,” Sienne said, laying a hand atop his. “He’s right. We don’t know if we can make the wizard reverse what he did to her. Would she thank you for sacrificing your entire race just to save her?”
Alaric turned swiftly to look at her. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“Yes, I do. And I’ll do everything in my power to restore Genneva. All Storm wants is for you to promise you won’t let your love for her interfere with destroying the wizard. That might…mean her death. I know, Alaric, that’s not what we want. But—”
“That’s enough,” Alaric said. “Gen was as much a part of this plan as I was, back in the beginning. She would want me to see it through. Whatever that means.” He turned back to Storm. “I swear I’ll do whatever it takes to free both our people. Even if that means sacrificing my sister.”
Then we will help. Storm got to his feet, sending a ripple of movement through the massed Pekkanen as they did the same. Alaric remained seated. Storm took a few steps that put him face to face, nose to nose, with the Sassaven. They regarded each other for a moment. Alaric’s face lay in shadow, preventing Sienne from seeing his expression. Then he let out a long, deep sigh and laid a hand on Storm’s head. Storm butted against his touch as if he were a cat instead of a dog. We thought you were dead, he said. I told Leaf she was mad to hunt for you. As mad as Detlenda, to send her.
“Mother always had faith in me past reason,” Alaric agreed. “It’s good to be back.”
But not home?
Sienne, too, had caught Alaric’s unusual phrasing. Alaric glanced at Sienne and smiled. “My home is where my friends are. And my family. Did they move to Barholt when Gen was taken?”
Detlenda and Ellard did. Karlen is with the Niskanen.
“Leaf told me. How long?”
Three years. It is not what you think.
“I don’t see how I can think anything else. Why else would Karlen join the Niskanen? Or was he forced?”
He chose. It drew attention from your parents. The wizard came close to discovering their union. You know what that would mean.
“So Karlen sacrificed himself.”
Storm was silent.
Alaric scratched Storm’s head. “He wanted to go.”
It was an excuse. You know he dislikes feeling weak.
“I wish I could say this surprises me.” Alaric’s hand fell away, and he tilted his chin back to look up at the sky. Somewhere to the west, beyond the forest and the hills, the sun had set, and clear white stars dotted the velvet canopy of night. Sienne followed his gaze, but saw nothing except the constellation of the Boat, pursuing the Lovers in an eternal course across the sky. This far north, the Lovers’ feet were obscured by the horizon, but enough of them remained that it was clear why someone centuries ago had drawn that particular pattern in the stars.
“We intend to camp here tonight, and hide what we can’t carry with us,” Alaric said. “Then we want to take the shortest route to Barholt that will avoid the Sassaven. Can you help?”
We can scout. We do not see everything. Storm settled back on his haunches and let out a faint whine. It brought two more Pekkanen to his side. They all looked identical to Sienne, but she kept that thought to herself. Gleam and Ember will go now to locate the Niskanen. They ride in the plain north of Barholt for the most part, but the wizard might send them anywhere. Avoiding them is essential.
“I remember,” Alaric said with a grimace. “Has anything else changed since I left? Anything I should know?”
All is as it was. The wizard learned you left only when it was time for your binding. He questioned your family, but Genneva lied well, and the others were bound to tell the truth and of course knew nothing of your escape. The wizard believes you died in the mountains. Your return will be a surprise. Storm let out a strange coughing sound Sienne belatedly recognized as a Pekkanen’s laugh. Alaric chuckled with him.
“I certainly hope so,” he said. “I’m sorry it took so long. Though according to Averran, it’s how long I needed to master my impatience.”
You are not the same. Bolder. I see self-mastery in you. Storm stood and shook himself as if he’d come out of a deep pool. We will return in the morning. Sleep well.
The flood of shadows ebbed away, flowing into the night, until only Leaf was left. Alaric stood and stretched. “Sorry you all couldn’t understand that,” he said. “The short version is that the Pekkanen, somewhat reluctantly, agreed to be our eyes in the valley, to help us evade the Niskanen.”
“Good,” Kalanath said. “It is like being invisible to their eyes.”
“Only without the risk of losing track of each other,” Dianthe said. “What else did they tell you?”
“My parents moved to Barholt to be closer to Genneva. If we can make contact with them, they may be able to help us. Provide us shelter in the village, at least.” Alaric bent to sniff the soup pot. “I’m suddenly very hungry.”
“It will be a while yet,” Sienne said. “The Pekkanen interrupted me.”
“Don’t worry about it. This may be our last chance for a leisurely meal. We’ll set watches tonight and conceal the camp in the morning.”
“I have finished scrying,” Perrin said, “and I believe I have an understanding of the valley’s geography and the route we should take. Though with the Pekkanens’ guidance, that route may need to alter. Unfortunately, my attempt to scry the wizard’s tower failed. He has precautions in place to prevent such divinations.”
“That was always a long shot,” Dianthe said. “We could try to transport into the village instead.”
“Barholt is a busy place, and someone would notice us popping in out of nowhere,” Alaric said. “We’re better off taking the long route.”
“Then that brings me to another matter.” Perrin stood and brushed himself off. “I have in mind to petition Averran for a blessing that will allow us to speak Sorjic as the Sassaven do. If nothing else, it will allow us to communicate with our Pekkanen allies, and if we are separated, that might be vital.”
“I hadn’t thought of that, but you’re right,” Alaric said. “How late should we start tomorrow, for you to get blessings?”
“I believe Averran will be responsive rather earlier than is usual for him. He is as crotchety as ever, but I sense underlying the crotchetiness is a desire to see us succeed. But after dawn is still wisest.”
Sienne returned to the fire and began chopping vegetables small enough to cook quickly. “Someone bring me more carrots,” she said. “I need to do something that isn’t running around in nervous agitation.”
She prepared the soup in silence, and sat stirring the pot and staring into the fire until the aroma of rabbit and cooked vegetables woke her stomach to hunger. When they’d all eaten, she volunteered to wash dishes and was rebuffed by Kalanath, whose turn it was. So instead she leaned against Alaric and they sat together by the fire, holding hands in silence, until Sienne’s pocket watch told them it was time for bed.
Sienne wished for the first time on one of these journeys that she could share a bedroll with Alaric, and never mind their mutual decision not to sleep together while on a job. She wanted the comfort of snuggling up with him on this night. Was it too superstitious to acknowledge the chance that it might be their last night? She lay on her back listening to Dianthe snore and let fear and anxiety fill her heart. She hated going into a situation where she knew so little. There was no help for it, so she didn’t feel right about sharing her doubts with the others, but she couldn’t stop herself churning over possible horrors—the wizard knew they were coming, the Sassaven would know her imitate wasn’t the real thing, the Pekkanen intended to betray them—until they drove her to exhaustion.
She woke to Alaric shaking her foot in the pre-dawn blackness. She’d been dreaming of the wizard’s tower, which in her dream was even taller and thinner than in reality, and his touch dissolved it into a chaotic, swirling mass of images and sensations. She blinked away the feeling that the tower walls were closing in on her and sat up. “What an unsettling dream.”
“What did you dream?”
Sienne crawled out of the tent and put her arms around him. “About the tower, and how strange it is. If you hadn’t woken me, I think I would have started counting steps.”
Alaric stroked her hair. He smelled of wood smoke as well as the unicorn musk, and the dream withdrew a little farther. “There aren’t any steps in that tower,” he said. “It’s solid stone, remember?”
She tilted her head to look at him. “Right. The walkstone. Are you sure you remember how to operate it? What if you’re wrong, and we can’t get into the tower?”
He hugged her closer. “Then you’d figure something out. Between your magic and Perrin’s scrying…but really, sweetlove, I think getting into the tower will be the easiest part of this plan.” He put a finger below her chin and tilted her head farther back. “For now, I’m not interested in the wizard, or his tower, or the plan.”
Sienne smiled at him. “Oh? What are you interested in, then?”
Alaric smiled in return and lowered his head to kiss her, sliding his hands down her back to rest on her hips. She drew him closer and kissed him back. Her previous night’s desire to have a private space to share with him returned, more powerful than before. Alaric lowered them both to sit on the ground and pulled her into his lap. “I wish we were home,” he murmured.
