The three were silent again, testing the idea. Then Gregory asked, “How did it tie the mooring rope?”
Geoffrey frowned. “You do not think the beast was telekinetic, do you?”
“That it tied the knot with its mind?” Gregory smiled. “Why not? Some ancestral projective telepath did craft Puck with all his magical powers. Why could not his descendant make witch-moss into a monster that was itself an esper?”
“An esper making an esper!” Geoffrey shook his head. “I shall have to think that one over for some days, brother! But let us mount and ride on, for I do not relish the thought of spending the night by that stream.”
“Nor I,” Alain said with a shiver.
Thus they led their horses up out of the ravine and on to the top of the slope, looking warily about them every foot of the way.
“The swine!” Cordelia jammed her fists on her hips and glared at the raft on the far side of the river. “To leave their craft where we could not reach it!”
“Patience, good lady,” Allouette advised. “Surely they do not know that you follow them . . .”
“Well, they should know!”
“. . . and Gregory thinks he is following me,” Allouette finished smoothly.
“There’s some truth in that,” Quicksilver allowed. “Not enough to excuse them, mind you, but some.”
Never in her wildest imaginings had Allouette dreamed she would be the voice of reason.
“Still, it is no great feat to bring it back.” Cordelia stared at the raft. After a moment, it lurched free of the bank and began to move toward them.
“How does it compare to a broomstick?” Quicksilver asked.
“Most unwieldy,” Cordelia answered. “Still, you have given me a thought—perhaps we should fly.”
“What, poor three of us, and three horses into the bargain? You would be worn out in minutes!”
Cordelia didn’t argue; indeed, her brows drew down in a scowl of concentration, and she muttered, “Water’s resistance is most maddening.”
“And wearying.” Quicksilver hiked up her skirts and waded into the river to catch the raft one-handed. “Aid me, Allouette!”
“I am here.” Allouette caught the other corner-post and turned, plowing her way back to the bank, skirts held up in her other hand.
The raft touched the bank and Cordelia staggered as she loosed her mental hold. “I thank you, damsels! That took greater effort than I had thought it would.”
“Board,” Quicksilver said. “There is no reason for you to get wet with us.”
“My enthusiasm for this quest is already dampened.” Cordelia stepped aboard the raft, then turned to glare fiercely at the bank. “Board,” she said between her teeth.
Allouette and Quicksilver stepped up to the bank again, then led the horses across to the boat. Both immediately sat, stretching out their legs to the sun.
“There is some advantage to their absence,” Quicksilver said.
“Pooh, damsel! Surely Geoffrey has seen your legs before this!” Cordelia scolded.
“That he has,” Quicksilver admitted, “but if he saw them now, we would cease to journey onward for some hours.”
Cordelia gave Allouette a wink. “She does not mind boasting a bit, does she?”
Allouette smiled but lowered her gaze. “I was thinking much as she was myself.”
“I too,” Cordelia said, “but there is no reason to speak it aloud.”
So trading verbal jabs, they drifted across the river and downstream until they bumped into the bank.
“I am dry now.” Quicksilver stood in a single lithe movement, catching her horse’s bridle. “Come, my lovely! You may have solid ground under your feet again.”
The horse whinnied as though to say that was a very good idea and came with her onto the bank. Allouette and Cordelia followed with their mounts. Then Allouette dropped the reins and told her mare sternly, “Bide!” and went to tie the mooring-rope firmly around a tree trunk.
“What good is that?” Quicksilver asked. “Our men are on this side of the river now!”
“At least the raft will not go drifting downstream to be lost,” Allouette said equably. “Besides, we may wish to return.”
“There is that,” Cordelia said. “Well! We have drifted downstream quite a way. Shall we not have to search for the men’s trail?”
They mounted and rode along the bank, Quicksilver’s gaze on the ground, Allouette watching the woods in case of danger, and Cordelia abstracted, mind searching for Alain’s—a more difficult task than finding Gregory’s or Geoffrey’s, since the prince was only a latent telepath. “Odd that we cannot find their thoughts.”
Quicksilver frowned. “If we cannot, they must be shielding themselves. What enemy do they fear who can read minds?”
Two experienced psis and one novice were silent a moment, contemplating the possible answers to that question and not liking them a bit. Quicksilver broke the silence by crying, “What happened here?”
Cordelia and Allouette looked down and gasped at the churned mud on the bank. “That raft certainly came to land with a great deal of force,” Cordelia said.
The ground was plowed up sharply where the logs had jammed into the bank. The mud was riddled with hoof marks, but the boot prints were fewer and more centered.
Quicksilver dropped to one knee, studying the signs closely. “The horses were quite upset, prancing about—trying to break free, I would guess—but the men seem to have calmed them.”
“What would so upset their steeds?” Allouette asked.
“Whatever it was, I hope it was not telepathic.” Cordelia gave a nervous glance toward the river.
The other two women followed her gaze. “It seems tranquil enough now,” Allouette said.
“What was it an hour ago?” Quicksilver returned. “Or was it longer than that?”
“Let us follow and see,” Allouette proposed.
“And keep your thoughts to yourself,” Quicksilver added.
Allouette’s gaze snapped to her, affronted.
“I mean no insult,” Quicksilver said, “only that if the men shield their minds, we should too. I’d rather not discover what stalks them by having it find us!”
“Oh.” Allouette looked sheepish. “Your pardon, damsel. I had thought—”
“I was careless in my wording,” Quicksilver said gruffly, “and it is I who should be asking pardon. Let us ride!”
They turned their horses and followed the trail into the woods.
Half an hour later, Cordelia reined in and looked at the trees about them. “Night comes on quickly and soon we shall not be able to see what obstacles lie in our path.”
“I know a spell for light,” Allouette offered.
“Do you not fear night-walkers?” Quicksilver asked with a frown.
Allouette barely managed to keep from saying that she herself had been a greater danger than anything else that walked by night. Instead, “Not with two such doughty companions,” she said.
Quicksilver eyed her askance. “Flattery, methinks.”
“But nonetheless pleasant for all that,” Cordelia said. “She has a point—one of us might be at risk, but together we can cope with any monster or hobgoblin I can think of.”
“Provided they do not come in packs,” Allouette qualified.
“Or that the packs are not too large.” Quicksilver nodded. “Still, it is well thought, ladies. The men shall no doubt be wearied from whatever happened at that riverbank and will pitch camp for the night. If we keep riding, we should catch up with them before they sleep.”
They were all silent a moment, each thinking about catching her lad before bedtime. Then Cordelia shook off the mood and said, “Press on!”
They turned back to business and set off after the men.
Before the twilight had quite ended, they came out of the forest into a wide lane, lined with low fieldstone walls on either side. Allouette stared at them and asked, “Who built these?”