I swung into the saddle cursing my wretched aching ankle. The Lady gave me a dirty look. “Well,” I said. “You’re showing some spirit.”
“Are you kidnapping me?”
“You want to be alone with all your folks? With maybe nothing better than a knife to keep order?” Then I forced a grin. “We’ve got a date. Remember? Dinner at the Gardens in Opal?”
For just a moment there was a spark of mischief behind her despair. And a look from a moment by a fire when we had come close. Then the shadow returned.
I leaned closer, trembling with the thought. I whispered, “And I need your help to get the Annals out of the Tower.” I had not told anyone that I did not have them in my possession yet.
The shadow went. “Dinner? That’s a promise?” The witch could promise a lot, just with a look and her tone. I croaked, “In the Gardens. Yes.”
I gave the time-honored signal. Hagop started off on point. Goblin and One-Eye followed, bickering as usual. Then Murgen, with the standard, then the Lady and I. Then most of the others, with the pack animals. Silent and Darling brought up the rear, well separated from the Lady and I.
As I urged my mount forward, I glanced back. Raven stood leaning on his cane, looking more forlorn and abandoned than he should. Case was still trying to explain it to him. The kid had no trouble understanding. I figured Raven would, once he got over the shock of not having everyone jump to do things his way, the shock of discovering that old Croaker could fill his bluff if he had to. “I’m sorry,” I murmured his way, not quite sure why. Then I faced the forest and did not look back again.
I had a feeling he would be on the road himself soon enough. If Darling really meant as much to him as he wanted us to think.
That night, for the first time in who knows how long, the northern skies were completely clear. The Great Comet illuminated our way. Now the north knew what the rest of the empire had known for weeks.
It was on the wane already. The hour of decision had passed. The empire awaited in fear the news that it portended.
Away north. Three days later. In the dark of a moonless night. A beast with three legs limped from the Great Forest. It settled on its haunches on the remains of the Barrowland, scratched the earth with its one forepaw. The son of the tree flung a tiny change storm.
The monster fled.
But it would return another night, and another, and another after that...