Joelle glanced at him and said, “It’s worse than usual tonight.”
“Much worse,” Arietta agreed. “But Yder must know by now that Kleef will never break a vow. Why does he keep trying?”
“Because Yder sees what you do not,” Malik said. “Kleef’s greatest weakness is his bitterness, and Shar is the goddess of the embittered. Yder does not wonder if he will turn the oaf to Shar’s service, but only how soon he will succeed.”
Joelle shot him a frown. “That’s a terrible thing to say.”
“There are no truths more dangerous than terrible truths,” Malik said. “Those are the kind no one wishes to see.”
“And just what is it that we don’t see?” Arietta demanded. “Kleef may resent those who turn their backs on their duty, but that doesn’t mean he would ever betray his own vows. Quite the opposite, I assure you.”
“You assure me?” Malik held her eyes just long enough to convey his disdain for her assurances, then said, “Oh, what a relief. I will certainly sleep easier tonight.”
He took a sip of tea and looked into the fire. Arietta finished changing the bandage on Joelle’s leg, and the trio spent the next quarter hour in uneasy silence, watching the flames and listening to Kleef toss and growl in his sleep.
Though Joelle insisted Malik was as dedicated to delivering the Eye of Gruumsh as she was, Arietta could not help thinking that was not entirely true. Malik seemed more interested in keeping the heartwarder to himself than he did in marshaling Kleef’s help to stop Shar. That did not seem like someone who put his mission above all else, and Arietta wondered if the Eye itself could be affecting Malik, making him behave in a way that undermined his own cause.
Arietta was still pondering the question when an alarm horn sounded from the front of the citadel, where the steep road from the plain below ended in a pile of rubble that had once been the citadel’s gatehouse. The caravan did not immediately spring into action, for the events of the last few nights had taught the travelers to trust in Faroz’s defenses. Instead, a vague sense of expectation fell over the courtyard, and the drone of camp conversation quickly faded as all ears waited for a report.
Finally, it came. “Orcs, coming up the hill.”
A gentle murmur spread across the caravan as travelers gathered their shields and weapons. Still, there was no rush to reinforce the gateway, nor even much movement in that direction. If help was needed, the guards would call for it-and if it wasn’t, a bunch of travelers running about would only interfere with the wizards. Arietta strung her bow, then both she and Joelle buckled on their weapon belts. Malik did not even bother to do that much, continuing to sip his tea and leaving his sword on the ground next to him.
No one bothered to wake Kleef. If the watchman was needed, the din of battle would rouse him in plenty of time for the fight.
A long clatter echoed across the courtyard as the wizards sent mounds of rubble tumbling down on the orcs. The sound was followed a few seconds later by a distant chorus of shrieks and groans, and the guards gave a rousing cheer that suggested the assault had already been broken.
If Kleef heard any of it, the only sign he gave was that he began to thrash in his sleep even more wildly.
Then cries rang out over near the well. Arietta rose and looked toward the sound-and found her view blocked by the silhouettes of pack animals and other people. The chime of steel on steel echoed across the courtyard. Human voices shrieked in pain, and she glimpsed stooped figures charging through the moonlight.
“Orcs!” Arietta gasped. “Inside the perimeter.”
“Malik, douse that fire,” Joelle ordered. “And stay close until we figure out what’s happening.”
“We know what is happening,” Malik said. A wet sizzle sounded from the fire, and the smell of steam and ash filled the air. “The brutes have tricked us!”
The well, of course.
Arietta had no way to guess how large a hiding place the orcs had dug inside the well, but she felt certain they could not be climbing out of the narrow shaft more than two at a time. To turn the trap against the brutes, all they had to do was reach the top of the well and hold it.
Kleef yelled something unintelligible, clearly still asleep. Arietta turned to wake him-and saw Joelle already ducking into the tent to do the same.
As soon as Joelle touched his shoulder, he sat up and caught her on his forearm, then hurled her out of the tent. Arietta barely had time to step out of the way before the heartwarder landed beside her and went tumbling.
“Kleef!” Arietta yelled. “Wake up!”
Kleef grabbed his sword and stumbled out of the tent, his eyes vacant and unfocused, his expression blank.
“Over there, you fool!” Malik cried. He was still holding the canvas bucket he’d used to douse the fire, and he swung it toward the well. “Orcs!”
Kleef pulled Watcher from its scabbard-but instead of heading for the well, he stepped toward Malik.
Arietta moved to intercept him. “Kleef-”
“Orcs!” Kleef said, cutting her off. He pointed across the fire pit, then sprang after Malik. “Filthy orcs.”
Malik hurled the bucket at him and turned to flee, but Kleef was already on him. He caught the little man by his collar and raised Watcher. Coming in from the side, Arietta slapped her bow down across his wrist.
The blow did not land hard enough to make Kleef drop his sword-but it did make him glance back at her. “Orcs!” he snarled. “Filthy orcs.”
Arietta did not even see his foot move. She simply felt a huge boot plant itself in her abdomen, then her entire midsection blossomed in pain, and she went flying.
She landed in a breathless heap two paces away. Arietta saw dozens of figures out in the courtyard, their blades rising and falling as they did battle among the neighing pack animals. In the darkness and confusion, it was impossible to tell the orcs from the humans, but she had the sense that the fight was expanding rather than contracting-a sure sign that there were still orcs pouring from the well in the center of the courtyard.
As Arietta struggled to get her breath back, she saw that Joelle had recovered her feet and was on Kleef’s far side, shouting for him to awaken. Malik had squirmed out of his drab robe and was standing in front of the horse line, brandishing his sword and demanding that Kleef return his robe.
“Orcs!” Kleef swung his blade at Malik’s neck. “Filthy orcs!”
Malik threw himself to the ground shrieking, then rolled beneath the horse line and vanished. Before Kleef could pursue, Joelle leaped in front of him, palms raised.
“Kleef, look at me.” She slipped inside his guard, then placed a hand on the wrist of his sword arm. “Do I look like an orc to you?”
Kleef jerked his sword arm free, and Arietta feared for a moment that an orc was exactly what Joelle looked like to him. Arietta rolled to her knees and rose.
Then Joelle flashed one of those radiant smiles of hers, and Kleef squinted like a man looking into a bright sun. His brow furrowed and his gaze came into focus.
“Joelle?” Kleef seemed confused for a moment, then he finally exhaled in relief and displayed the robe he had taken from Malik. “I have it back.”
And that was when the agate on Watcher’s crossguard began to glow. Realizing at once what had happened-that Yder had used Kleef’s dreams to trick him into revealing the location of the Eye-Arietta nocked an arrow and scanned the perimeter of their little campsite.
Dark figures emerged from the gloom inside the tent, from the shadows between the horses, from the murk all around. Arietta chose a target coming up behind Joelle and loosed, then dived to the ground, rolled to a knee, and came up to find a shade splaying his fingers in her direction.