“Guret…” Joisan reached forward from beside me to lay hand on the boy’s arm. “Kerovan and I—”
“No!” He faced us. “You don’t understand what I’m trying to tell you! It’s death to cross the Shaman, and doubly so to stand in the path of that thing! It is folly to throw your lives away in such a fashion!”
Joisan glanced up at me, and I caught her wry unspoken words. He may very well have the right of it, my husband…
Probably, I agreed with her mindsharing, but aloud I said, “Guret, this will not be the first time we twain have faced the might of an Adept from the Left-Hand Path.” I did not add that three years ago we had had allies like Neevor and Landisl, creatures whose command of Powers dwarfed that possessed by any of humankind.
The youth might have mindshared, so quickly did he seize on my unspoken thoughts. “But this time there is no crystal gryphon… no talisman or ally out of the past to aid you. You have said over and over to me that you are not one who commands Powers, m’lord. True, I have seen you do things here in Kar Garudwyn that I know I could not do—but are you equal to this? I think not. Two of humankind cannot face—”
“Three,” said Jervon from across the circular chamber, his tone as flat as one who comments on the weather. “I company with you, Kerovan.”
“No, Jervon,” my lady protested, “if Kerovan and I have little Power with which to defend ourselves, you have—”
“Even less,” he agreed tonelessly. His hand sought the pommel of his sword, resting there as if he grasped the I land of an old friend. “However, I can wield cold iron, which many of those of the Shadow cannot endure. And I am not one to be easily amazed or bemused, after these many years roving the Waste with my lady Witch. You are going to try and rescue Elys, as well as save this land. I ran do no less than stand with you.”
I pulled my mail shirt over my head to give myself a heartbeat’s duration to think, then my eyes sought and measured his expression from across the chamber as I settled the cold metallic weight around me. His gaze challenged and captured my own for a long moment, and I could see therein the pain that he had kept so well masked. Realizing how I would feel in like circumstances, if Joisan were the one trapped within the bowels of a Shadowed One, I nodded. “Very well. You share our path tonight, Jervon.”
“And that is another thing!” Guret broke in. “The path! You cannot even reach the other peak now that the sun has set. You must needs ride back down the valley and around the mountain to come in from the north—you will be too late! The thing travels its run before midnight, that I remember clearly!”
Drawing my sword, I checked its edge, making sure its sweep out of my scabbard was smooth, swift. When I was satisfied, I made short answer. “Not if we take the old trail running between the two peaks.” Picking up the saddles, I nodded to Joisan to carry the hackamores. I noticed that she also had donned her sword and mail. Briefly, I wished I could induce her to travel southward with Guret but knew better than to broach the subject. I knew the look in her eyes when her mind was made up.
“The trail between the peaks?” Guret sounded even more aghast, if that were possible. “In daylight that path looked treacherous—by night, you’ll kill yourselves and the horses, too!”
“The moon is waxing near full again,” Joisan said. “We’ll manage.”
“Nekia has good night-sight,” I added. “She will find the trail. We will be cautious.”
The Kioga youth threw his hands into the air, emitting a hiss of exasperation. “By the Mother of Mares! I can see there’s no turning you, m’lord. But in that event, I ride with you tonight—not southward.”
“No.” I said flatly. When he began to protest, Joisan moved toward him, drawing him aside.
Guret, you must do as Kerovan says. … I caught part of her thought, then her mind slipped away from me.
The Kioga youth shook his head, then whispered something to her. My lady’s lips thinned and she flushed, her ryes sparkling with anger. The lad smiled faintly as he confronted her. With a movement that whipped her chestnut braid like a horse’s tail before battle, she turned and addressed me, her words very fast and clipped.
“Kerovan, Guret has just pointed out to me that to reach Car Re Dogan in time, we must ride, all three of us. Vengi will not suffer a stranger, but he will carry double. And you alone must ride Nekia—she trusts you. I have never ridden the stallion, and neither has Jervon. I think we must perforce take Guret with us.”
Suspicion flared strongly as I eyed her—what had the boy threatened her with to sway her to his way of thinking? But there was no time for argument… I nodded brusquely. “So be it. Now we must go, and swiftly.”
The four of us descended the ramp from Kar Garudwyn hurriedly, with no more speech. I saw that indeed the moon was very bright, light enough to make out large runes by, thus bringing the chances of our journeying safely along that perilous trail up from naught to slim… but, as I had pointed out earlier, we had no choice.
Wary snufllings were the only greetings our mounts gave us as we called and whistled for them among the eerie blue-touched shadows. “Nekia,” I murmured as reassuringly as possible, “come here, girl, to me… come on.”
The slightest delay was maddening, but I curbed myself to stand patiently, speak coaxingly. If the horses took fright and stampeded, we were all lost.
“Come on.” I heard Guret’s voice. “That’s a lad, Vengi.”
Finally the stallion pawed, snorted, then footed a hesitant path over to the Kioga lad. The mares followed. As swiftly as we could, we saddled them, then, still on foot, turned back toward the ramp.
The animals blew in alarm at the strange entrance before them but, after more coaxing, were persuaded to set hoof to that sloping stone way. I led the group with Nekia, my own hooves clicking against the rock path. The trail was almost—almost—too tightly curving for the horses to take, but we managed. Within moments, my heart labored under the effort of guiding the mare up the incline swiftly enough so that the others would not run up on our heels, while insuring that Joisan and Guret would not be left behind.
After the first moments I began trailing my left hand along the ramp wall, for when I did so, the stone emitted a weak blue glow to partly offset the gloom of the passageway. Finally, with a last scramble and heave, we were out on the plateau, facing Kar Garudwyn. I struggled to catch my breath, spittle flooding my mouth in a bitter rush. We had barely begun our race.
Last up the rampway was Jervon, mumbling a breathless epithet before he spat over the cliffside. “What a scramble!”
“I didn’t realize getting the horses up would be so hard,” I agreed. We paused only a second, gasping, then, mounting, I led the group toward the back of the citadel, skirting to the left along a narrow path that wound along the mountaintop.
Looking down from the towers, it had been difficult to make out the exact beginning of the trail between the peaks. Now I was forced to bend low in the saddle as I searched, scanning the ground to my left where the plateau dropped away into a rush of black air and wind. Moonglow silvered the rocks below, softening their outlines, but did little to lessen my wariness. A fall from this height could be nothing but fatal.
I squinted, blinking, until my sight began to blur from sheer strain, trying to discern the trail I knew must branch to my left somewhere in this area. Light… if only I had light, I thought, and even as the word crossed my mind, one of those odd bits and pieces of ancient knowledge surfaced. Holding my wristband before me, I spoke aloud the word in the Old Tongue for light—“Ghithe!”