Dockalfar (78 page)

She leaned over her saddle bow. “Is he all right?”

Sighing he bent down to check and informed her that the sidhe was indeed breathing normally.

“They are not going to be happy with this,” she foreordained with a frown.

“They will get over it.” He mounted up. “Especially when the hunt leaves them alone. Come on.”

He thickened his shield and urged his horse to a faster pace. Soon they passed the boundary of the runestones. Victoria took up the shielding then and he kept a mental eye out for ogre’s and goblins.

They veered away from one group and had to stop as another large party crossed their path. Between the two of them, their shield was strong enough to escape notice no more than twenty feet away from the closest shambling ogre. Once past that group he picked up Bashru’s trail again.

They crested the forested hill and progressed down another. The valley there was shallower and marsh-like. Their horses trudged though knee high water, stumbling in unseen ruts. It was a relief to start back up the water-slick hill.

By morning’s first light the landscape began to flatten out and the forest grew denser. Sometimes there was no more than a hand’s breadth of space between their legs and the trees around them. Often they had to pull their limbs up to avoid having them scraped raw by trees that were far to close. If the wood grew more dense travel on horseback would be impossible, but at any rate the thickness of the wood would hamper pursuit, especially of the broad bodied ogre sort.

They stopped to break their fast and catch a few moments’ rest. He was quicker dismounting than her and determined to lend her his hand in dismounting. She allowed it. While he rummaged about for something to eat she stretched her legs, walking about in a small circle. The trees limited vision to no more than a twenty foot radius. It was unnerving not being able to see what might be coming at them, but at the same time it provided good cover.

He handed her a piece of bread and a handful of dried fruit. They each had their own water skins.

“I think we’ve done it,” he finally said, to break the uncomfortable silence.

“We’re past them.”

“Don’t say that,” she snapped at him.

“You’ll jinx us.”

He smiled at her superstition. “Okay, we’re not past them. The woods probably crawling with them.”

She sniffed at him and nibbled at a piece of fruit. “How long before we let him know we’re away from the valley?”

That was a question that sent shivers down the length of him. Informing Azeral that his prey was no longer where he thought it was. How far was safe, when he set the hunt on their trails?

“Another day,” he supplied. “To give ourselves a good head start.”

She nodded, accepting that. For a long while she did nothing more than work on her fruit. He had finished his own in a few gulps and worked with the horses, allotting them a handful of grain a piece.

Being nighthorses, they snapped at his fingers and glowered at him with their dull red eyes. He slapped at a reaching muzzle and proceeded to rake his fingers through a tangled black mane to avoid looking at Victoria.

She caught him off guard with her whispered admittance. “I’m sorry it turned out this way, Alex.”

He stood with his back to her afraid to turn around. Afraid to see the dismissal in her eyes. “Are you? I thought I sensed a distinct contentment back there.”

“I’m sorry this world pulled us apart. But I’m not terrible sad that we found it – or it found us. I like this person I am now.”

He was not certain he did. He closed his eyes and mourned that uncertainty.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered behind him and he realized his shields were full down. He brought them back up with a snap and turned about to glare at her accusingly.

“What does it matter, Vicky? You’ve got a new life and I’m not a part of it.”

“Oh, Alex, don’t say that. You are a part of my life. You’ll always be. It just can’t be like it was before. I can’t live like that and I seriously doubt you can either.”

“No,” he agreed. “It can’t be the same.” And he shut her out after that, unable to deal with the topic, refusing to comment more. She grew silent after a few attempts at talk and merely sat there staring at him with thoughtful green eyes.

~~~

Azeral lay on the silken pillows of his field cot alone. It was large enough for four, doused in thick, soft cushions and covered with sheet of softest silk.

Dangling curtains hung above it, caught up at the apex of the tent, dividing his sleeping section from the rest of his ornate tent. The Dark Lord traveled in style. He never begrudged himself luxuries and yet he lay alone. Cold, with no arms to wrap about him but his own.

He half listened to the mental whispers fluttering around his encampment. Some were shielded and only the essence of the feelings involved reached him. Unease, disapproval.

Uncertainty in him. This last enraged him.

He lay and seethed. Their very thoughts verged on betrayal. They gave themselves the right to condemn him, even if only silently, in private. Those sniveling sidhe, none with even a remnant of power to match his own. Would they dare to chastise him to his face? He thought not.

He thought they would bow and scrape as usual, save for the few powerful ones, like Tyra who held judgment in their eyes but let it go no further.

The other half of listened to the rain and hated it. Hated the consistent patter of it on the canvas of his tent. He cursed the Seelies for stubborn fools, making his grand scheme of drowning them out of their haven as much a inconvenience to him as to themselves. He let his mind fly free, abandoning his body and the camp it rested within. He flew high over the treetops, looking down over the expanse of forest. He saw the various camps made by his ogre’s and goblins, ignored the dull thoughts coming from those spot. He followed the path of bendithy scouting parties as they moved stealthily through the wood. The vale was a ragged hole of nothingness. His mind’s eye passed over it and found void. Impervious to all outside magic, it protected its secrets well. If Ashara had had the time and the forethought to set up wards against natural disaster it might have been the perfect fortress. She might have thwarted him so easily. But she had never been the strategist. There was no need – her Seelie court was not a court of war. There were others that were. Others that might come to her defense if word reached them. But her defense served also to barricade her from sending out for support. From within she could not call out for help and if she stepped outside the circle of runes he would send down his forces upon her.

He left the area of the vale, amused at his thoughts. Circling away he swung back to his camp. A hint of something familiar tugged at him. His senses perked up, striving to identify the scrap of essence.

Something disturbingly different in its make up, yet intimate in its identity. He tried to pin it down, but it was elusive, flickering in and out of his notice. To the east. It originated to the east. He let his mind’s eye roam in that direction. Then the trail abruptly winked out of existence.

He pulled up short, fuming, holding position just below the fist layer of clouds.

That scent. That scent. Where did he know that scent? Not sidhe. But powerful.

Then it occurred to him why the essence was so different – it was not of this world.

It was human in origin. He snapped back to his body in an instant and lay there for a moment in ruthless contemplation. What he had scented had been the faint remnants of the bond he had made between himself and Alex Morgan. For days there had been nothing from the boy, and now….

As long as the connection existed there was no shielding or hiding from Azeral. He could no disguise himself or his magic, so the fact that he had suddenly disappeared meant he was not alone.

There was another powerful magic user with him. He could only hazard a guess as to who that might be.

With a harsh bark of laughter he leapt from his cot. He sent out a mental bellow for his squire and another to the court to be up and at arms. He was pulling on his armor when the sleepy-eyed bendithy boy who served him stumbled in, dripping from the rain. Impertinent child not to be sleeping at the doorway of his tent ready to serve. A swat to the side of the head was punishment enough for he needed the boy’s help in buckling up the armor.

Gleaming in blue crystal, he stalked out of his tent where his court was gathering. He laughed out loud at their wild-eyed stares, at the barely leashed surge of power that bounced among them.

He called out through the rain and the distant booming of thunder.

“The prey has left its haven. Fled to the east. Captains, send out your fleetest riders to track them.”

Their eyes glinted with sudden, overwhelming excitement. The blood lust ran hard and high. The high hunt had been too long dormant. He was ready to drown their misgivings in the adrenaline of the hunt.

“We ride tonight,” he cried out, raising his sword. They echoed his cry, voices lifted in a beautiful, savage chorus.

His smile turned malicious, demonic one might even say. He needed this outlet every bit as much as his court.

Oh yes, the hunt would ride this night.

~~~

The day appeared heralded by the surprising appearance of the sun between breaks in the cloud cover. It had been some long while since the sun had deigned to show its face over the Vale of Vohar, and even though the rain still fell in the form of a heavy mist, the Seelies gathered outside to bask in the wan, but still bright light. And as ever when the sun shone down upon a rain filled day, a rainbow graced the vale from lip to lip. It was quite a wondrous, hope filled spectacle, and the powerful magic wielders among the Liosalfar gathered to again try to banish the fey induced storm.

Okar was not among them. Neither was Ashara who slept fitfully after a night full of lurid, horrible dreams. He had never seen her cry so much. So hopelessly. There was nothing he could do to rid her of the guilt she had heaped upon herself. Nothing but comfort her and shield her from the eyes of her own people. There were other things afoot that drew his attention though. Aloe and Alkar kept him abreast of what the council had spoken of and who was likely to do what in a fit of impatience.

They told him of other happenings as well. Happenings that he was not inclined, at the moment to decide were for the good or ill of their folk. When Aloe appeared outside the door to his and Ashara’s private haven, he knew what she was about and stepped outside, away from his sleeping mate’s hearing.

“What news?”

The girl looked tired. She had a scratch on her cheek and mud covering her from mid thigh down.

“Nothing,” she said with disgust. “I should have known. She came to me a practically told me what she was about.”

“No blame now. No one can afford it.

We can hardly afford to spare you to look for the fools.”

“They headed east. We know that from Kishar, who is nursing a very sore jaw. They left as the moon crested. They could be leagues from here now.”

“And her assassin?”

She shrugged. “I think I might have seen him about dawn, but no sign after that. I think she told him nothing of her plans. He’ll be after her though, whether she wills it or not. I would like to try and track them.”

“No,” he shook his head sternly. “Not now. You’ve not the magic to shield yourself from the type of foe in those woods and I cannot lend you those that do. Besides, we need you here. I think whatever is going to happen will happen soon.”

Her eyes grew stubborn and he took her shoulders in his hands. “Aloe, do not defy me on this. You will give me your word, your honor that you will not attempt to trail them.”

At her silence he shook her, not gently. She showed him her teeth in a snarl at the rough treatment and broke his grip with a twist of her body. “My honor,” she spat, forced into agreement.

Okar took a deep breath, relief washing his features. Aloe was stubborn and willful, but she was honorable to a fault. She would not break her word.

As she stalked away, yet another of his personal informants bounded towards him from the opposite direction. He paused in returning to his mate’s side and waited for his brother to reach him. Alkar had a sheen of excitement to his face. His long bow was strapped to his back, as well as a full quiver of arrows. He was dressed for woodland scouting.

“What now?” he asked, almost afraid to know. His younger sibling’s bouts of glee did not always come from pleasant situations.

“His forces are moving out. As far as our scouts can tell all the camps are breaking up.”

“Heading east?” Okar ventured.

Alkar nodded with an arch to his brow.

“Heading east,” he confirmed. “Dare I ask how you knew?”

“That is the direction our humans have fled. I fear they have done us the favor of taking Azeral with them.”

“By the Four,” the younger sidhe breathed. “The silly girl. She’ll find herself in his clutches yet.”

Okar did not comment, fearing the same himself. He gazed up thoughtfully at the patchy sky. In its haste to pursue the humans, had the hunt let up on its weather spells? Might Neira’sha place the wards she had been hoping?

“Father Sky let it be so,” he prayed.

“What?” Alkar demanded, ever the curious one. Okar half smiled at him.

“Nothing. If you think there is even a margin of safety, take a scouting party past the runes and see how many of Azeral’s folk are still milling about the area.”

Alkar’s face split into a grin. “Of course. And any stragglers we will send on another journey altogether.”

“Careful,” Okar warned. “This is no game.”

“I never claimed it was,” his brother sniffed, excitement momentarily turning to a mask of hurt feelings. Not for a moment did Okar believe it. He waved his younger sibling away and turned with a weary sigh of unease back to the dark stone shelter where his mate still immersed herself in grief.

~~~

The silence was mutual. And companionable for a change. Victoria was not ignoring Alex, she was simply enjoying a morning free of all but the slightest drizzle and a ride that was filled with the sounds of the forest in the throes of wakening. It was good not to be imprisoned, either in a fortress of stone or a valley where one fled of one’s own accord.