The young lord crossed his arms and looked both bored and annoyed at the same time. “Look, Brisbois, there’s something you should know. I was never in love with Yvaughan—not even in the beginning. Our feelings were all one-sided—hers. I only wanted to marry her because she was a Penhaligon and Arteris is far too icy for my tastes. Marrying Yvaughan was a good move for me, and I’m grateful for your discrediting her previous husband.”
“Maldrake—!”
The blond lord held up his hand. “As to Yvaughan’s deserving anything, the only thing she deserves is to be thrown from the highest tower!” Maldrake’s green eyes flashed, and his pale skin turned red. “That woman killed my son, Brisbois, and you want me to be worried about her? Those little scratches she gave herself are nothing! I wish she’d clawed out her jugular—”
Brisbois shook his friend. “Stop it, man! Can’t you see? Yvaughan’s innocent! She didn’t kill that pitiful being you called your son! And she didn’t wound herself. It’s that damned wizard who did both!”
Maldrake knocked away Brisbois’ hands. “Never touch me again!” he hissed through clenched teeth, his canines shining in the bright morning sun. Brisbois stepped back involuntarily.
“Maldrake…” he whispered.
The lord stabbed his finger against the knight’s chest. “I told you about Teryl Auroch. He didn’t kill my son or injure my wife. And even if you are right about his harming Yvaughan, he did it to please me. He succeeded—” Maldrake’s eyes flashed “—where you failed.”
Brisbois stared unblinking at his friend. He had always tried to do his best for Maldrake; how could he be faulted for trying? Brisbois held out his hands. “All right, Maldrake,” he said in a subdued voice. “Whatever you wish. You asked to see me. What did you want?”
Maldrake smiled. It was a thin, reptilian smile, and it chilled Brisbois. “Flinn is on his way to the castle.”
“When?” Brisbois felt fear trickle into his heart. He had done more than enough to earn Flinn’s wrath.
“Soon,” answered Maldrake. “In the next few days.”
“What are you going to do?” Brisbois asked.
“What am I going to do, Sir Brisbois?” Maldrake responded coyly, then shook his head. “You have it all wrong, my friend. All wrong, indeed.” He put his arm around Brisbois’ shoulder. The knight stiffened and Maldrake shook him, smiling all the while. “Relax, Brisbois, relax.” They began walking toward the stables, the trampled snow crunching beneath their boots.
“What do you have planned?” Brisbois insisted, knots forming in the muscles across his shoulders and back.
Maldrake laughed and looked at Brisbois. “Listen, and I’ll tell you.” He shook his head, his green eyes wide. “The best part is, neither you nor I will have to do a thing.” Maldrake’s laughter filled the morning air.
Chapter XIII
The setting sun touched the top of the trees as Flinn and his friends overlooked the valley leading to Karleah Kunzay’s home. Snow blanketed the forest and the rugged hills beyond, and rays of fading sunlight sparkled off the unblemished white. The slopes of the valley were lined with pale aspens and dark green spruces. A few birds circled lazily in the air, and Flinn eyed them warily. Spies of Karleah’s, he thought. A blue jay cackled, its voice reminiscent of the old woman’s laugh. The warrior grimaced. So much for my plan to surprise the wizardess, he thought. We’ll have to enter the valley on her terms. He nudged Ariac into a slow walk, and the others fell in behind. Jo followed on her horse Carsig, and Braddoc and Dayin rode the dwarf’s long-legged ponies. Braddoc used a lead rein to tow Fernlover, who took up the rear carrying supplies.
Flinn frowned as they descended into the valley. No tracks appeared in the snow, which had fallen at least three days ago. Along the line of trees, a deer spooked suddenly, her eyes wide and unblinking. She flicked her tail, bounded across the open valley floor, and disappeared into the forest. Immediately after the doe’s passing, the snow closed over the tracks.
Flinn smiled grimly. He raised an eyebrow and wondered what other surprises Karleah’s valley held in store. “Keep your eyes open,” he said as Jo and Braddoc came to flank him.
“I don’t like the idea of calling on crazy Karleah,” Braddoc grumbled once again. He’d voiced his misgivings once or twice before on the trip, but to no avail. “Seems we’re just asking for trouble,” he added.
Flinn pulled Ariac to a halt and looked at the dwarf. “What do you expect me to do? I promised Dayin I’d bring him to Karleah Kunzay because he knows her and doesn’t want to go to the castle.” Flinn waved his hand. “I can’t just leave Dayin here by himself!”
The dwarf said stubbornly, “Why not? He survived the last couple of winters just fine without you.”
“We’ve come this far, Braddoc,” Jo noted. She added sensibly, “It can’t be much farther.”
The dwarf looked uneasily from Jo to Flinn and then to Dayin. His eyes roamed the trees around him. “There’s something about… about this place that’s giving me the willies. The—the… trees want us to leave. Can’t you hear their whispers?” Braddoc’s voice cracked, and Jo looked at Flinn in sudden alarm.
The warrior moved next to Braddoc and gripped the dwarf’s arm. “Braddoc!” he said in a low, authoritative voice. “Calm yourself! The whispers—”
“There’re so many, so many!” Braddoc’s eyes darted to the woods again.
Flinn slapped the dwarf. “The whispers are just Karleah’s wards trying to drive you away! She doesn’t like dwarves, but fight against the charm and it’ll stop.”
Braddoc’s eyes dimmed, and he tugged nervously at his beard. The dwarf coughed suddenly and looked up at Flinn, his eyes clearer. His expression was grim. “I knew there was a reason why I hate wizards.” He laughed wryly, and the others joined in.
“Flinn,” Jo asked when the laughter subsided, “how did you know about the ward against dwarves?” She spurred her horse next to Flinn’s griffon. They continued slowly down to the center of the snow-filled valley. The cold wind was dying down.
Flinn found his thoughts slipping nearly fifteen years into the past as he told Jo, Dayin, and Braddoc the story of how he had met crazy Karleah Kunzay. He’d been recovering in the castle’s rose gardens one day after his battle with Verdilith when, unexpectedly, an old crone approached him. She was dressed in filthy rags and smelled of dust, and Flinn had sneezed three times during his greeting.
The old hag had come straight to the point. She told Flinn that she had dreamed of the battle between him and the dragon. On three nights afterward she’d had a dream of a second battle between them. In the first, Flinn had died while the dragon won. In the second, the reverse had occurred. In the third dream, both man and dragon died. Karleah told Flinn that, for a small fee, she would dream a fourth time and divine the true future for the next battle. Flinn laughed, handed the old woman a coin, and told her that he knew who would die: Verdilith.
Flinn chuckled as he relived the incident. “Although I saw Karleah Kunzay after that, she never did tell me if she’d had a fourth dream or not. And I never asked her,” Flinn finished his tale as they reached the valley floor.
“Why didn’t you ask?” Jo asked curiously. Dayin echoed the question. Braddoc was still eyeing the woods suspiciously and paid little attention to Flinn’s story.
The warrior shrugged. “I prefer not to know my fate.”
Flinn lapsed into silence, his thoughts returning to the strange wizardess.
Once, in the middle of the night, he had walked onto the parapets of the castle and found Karleah there. She told him she was settling in the hills northeast of the castle and that she wanted advice on how to protect her home. Flinn readily complied, telling her the kinds of defenses he would create. Snow that could conceal tracks after their creation had been one of his suggestions, and he was flattered she’d taken it.