The stream ran across the plain until it reached the hills over which they had come during the night. She could sight some moving humps in the distance ahead to the east which she thought might be animals browsing. The sky was very clear, with not even a trace of cloud, and once in a while again to the east some shape flapped lazily across it.
There was life in the stream also. Now and then a fish broke the surface of the water chasing one of the gauzy winged insects which near filled the air only a few inches above the river, engaged in some complicated dance or maneuvers of their own. Then there crawled out in the sandbank a lizardlike creature as long as her forearm which paid no attention to the two already occupying that stretch of territory but wheeled about its head pointing waterwards and apparently went to sleep in the rapidly warming sun.
Though the plain stretched well to the east there were also the irregular lines of hills or mountains to be sighted beyond and here and there were dark clumps of trees gathered in thick copses as if they had been deliberately planted so. There were also tumbles of stone perhaps a half mile farther on which to Kelsie suggested ruins of a very ancient and now unidentifiable building. While the tall grass of the meadowland, already beginning to brown under the sun’s searing heat, was troubled now and again, not by any wind (for the dawn breeze had died away and there was no movement of air at all). Those waving fronds and blades must mark the comings and goings of small life.
The sun was hot and she found her head nodding, her eyes shutting of themselves. At length she chose a place closer to the barrier they had woven from the drift and, in spite of her wariness, fell asleep.
What nightmare awoke her, shaking and sweating, she could not piece together once her eyes were fully open. Perhaps it was just as well that her waking mind repudiated that memory for the fear carried over and she huddled shivering by the mass of drift.
Wittle lay exactly as she had when Kelsie had gone to sleep. Almost she could believe that the witch had died save that her breast rose and fell with long deep breaths. The creature from the stream was gone again and—
Kelsie looked about her for a weapon. There was a water smoothed root bigger at one end than the other. She worried that loose, winning so a crude club. She must have slept half the day or more away—the sun was to the westward. But though the land looked as peaceful as it had before, she was sharply aware that there was something moving toward them through the tall grass.
Very slowly she pivoted where she still knelt, giving each section she could see a questioning survey. Those moving stands of grass which she had earlier believed marked the coming and going of the inhabitants of this land were no longer in evidence. There was a stillness over the whole of the land which instinct told her was not natural. Then she heard the splash of water and turned instantly to front the screen of willows downstream.
A figure pushed through them, treading as she and Wittle had done barefooted in the water, his boots slung by their lacing cords about his neck. He was fully armed and the metallic links of light mail which formed a veiling about the helm he wore showed only a very small portion of his face. Yet she knew him.
“Yonan,” her word was but a whisper but it appeared to carry to him for he threw up one hand, whether in salute or warning she did not know—in this time and place she took it for the latter.
She was on her feet, though she still grasped the club, and her own wave was a vigorous one, beckoning him on. Had he been sent to take them back? She would indeed welcome such a summons, if this strange compulsion she was caught up in would allow her.
As she and Wittle he wore a small backpack, and, seeing that, she was not so sure that his coming meant the end of their journeying. There was an angry exclamation from behind her as Wittle moved forward, to stand nearly at the water’s edge watching that newcomer.
“What do you here?” demanded the witch while he was still some distance from them, her voice low but carrying over the splashing he made as he moved.
“What I am sent to do,” he returned. One of the veil strips of his helm swung free, and Kelsie could see by the set of his firm chin a suggestion that he was angered.
“We do not need you—” Wittle’s voice was that of Swiftfoot’s hissing growl.
“Perhaps that is so,” he replied, now near enough to wade out of the stream, by his very coming forcing the witch back a step or two. “This is a troubled land, we will not have it troubled further—Return to the Valley lest you be taken. There are mighty forces on the move.”
“Who has been a-scrying and read that in her bowl?” Wittle’s contempt once more ruled her voice. “Certainly this is a troubled land. Perhaps we move to put an end to some of that troubling. Let us reach the force and—”
“And be blasted by your own folly? Well enough, if that means that only you will suffer. But each bit of the power is precious and to risk it in the midst of enemies—
Kelsie saw Wittle’s hands snap upward to jerk at the jewel chain and bring her gem out of hiding. Even in the daylight its blue fire was not diminished. She took it in one hand and pointed it toward Yonan.
He laughed and swung his sword out of its sheath, holding the blade and raising the blue stone grip between them. There was a flash from the jewel, a similar answer from the stone, and those two met, pushing each other until there was nothing left but a wisp of smoke.
“You—you—” for the first time Kelsie saw Wittle truly at a loss for words, her usual arrogance gone.
“Yes, I am not for your guiding, Lady Witch,” he said. “We have discovered other bits of power ourselves. Quan iron, in the hand of he who dares, to carry it, lives. Now that we have settled that you are not to be so easily rid of me,” he allowed his pack to fall from his shoulders, “let us discuss the matter. The Lady Dahaun has sent a message to Hilaron. Do you also think that you have the power to stand against an adept? He feels strongly about this land and will not allow tricks to be played which will bring in the shadow forces past our control.”
“What would you do?” Wittle asked sullenly.
“Go with you. Do you not realize that we are as eager to mark sources of power as you are? That we must know what lies hidden whenever we can that the Dark does not reach it first?”
“This is no affair for men—”
“This is an affair for any who dare it!” he countered. “As a scout, and one who has dared before, it is my choice to come on this quest. You head for the Sleepers—
Wittle’s head jerked as if he had struck her across the mouth. “How know you that?” she demanded and for once there was flaming heat instead of the cold in her voice.
Yonan shrugged. “Think you that you can keep such purpose hidden in the Valley? We have known all the time you waited for your sister what it was that you would do.”
She glared at him and her hand tightened on her jewel as if she would again strive to try strength against strength with him. But he had already turned to Kelsie.
“You do this of your free will?” he asked.
“No, but not because of her urging,” she replied. “There is something in the jewel which has claimed me.”
“Take it off!” That was more an order than a request and her hands moved to obey—moved only a fraction. The stone blazed hot beneath her jerkin as if in warning.
“I can’t,” she was forced to admit.
What she could see of his face was a frown. “Touch—He held forth his sword by the blade and the blue band in the hilt had a subdued fire of its own. Kelsie reached for the hilt and then dropped her hand with a small cry of surprise. Her fingers were numb and that deadness was creeping across her palm and up her arm. “I can’t—
He nodded as if he had expected that very answer from her. “You are under a geas.”