He sighed. "Of course. It's
possible
, and I know how, and there are those even among the Masters who use travelings far too lightly." His brows came down angrily. "But I will not. Besides, the distance is of great importance. Edwin's projection threw us perhaps a hundred paces. If I were to send us from here to the Academy it would weaken reality across half a thousand miles of farmland." He shook his head, sure and serious. "The things we do with magic only hasten the day of the dragonswarm, and I mean to delay it as much as I can."
I leaned forward. "You really believe in the dragonswarm? Here and now?"
He frowned. "Yes," he said. "I do." He shook himself and met my eyes. "But not as here and now as the king's soldiers." He returned to his search and began to draw out some herbs. Finally he withdrew a small bit of folded parchment from the bottom of one of the pouches. It looked old, and he moved with deliberate care as he pulled it free of the other items in the bag.
"Now, here is our map." He unfolded the parchment, and my breath caught. It was an ancient map of the Ardain, divided into kingdoms. It must have predated the FirstKing. Claighan chuckled at my response.
"This is the only map I have handy. I'd intended to present it to the king as a gift for his Royal Collection." He very carefully spread it out and traced a finger from the north coast to a place just above the center of the map. It was a long journey—half a thousand miles. "We will avoid towns for the most part, but we cannot miss them completely. We will stop here, at Dann, and here at Gath-upon-Brennes, and I believe that will be all. We can slip through both towns quickly, change horses if ours have problems, and be at the Academy by the middle of next week."
He folded the map with care and returned it to his pouch, then turned to look at me once more with a frown of concentration. "Farmers, I should say. Returning from market." He spoke strange words, unintelligible but alive, and as they hung in the air, writhing, they took on a more powerful aspect. Something in the world around me began to...flow. Everything—the boat, the bed, even the air in the room—everything suddenly became soft. Pliable. I felt dizzy at first, but nothing seemed solid enough to support me. Then in an instant I felt a tightening, and a sudden constriction as Claighan's voice dwindled, and then all was real once more. The ship rolled heavily to one side, then settled back, and when I had my balance again Claighan was sitting with a satisfied smile, staring at me.
"They won't know you from any other country boy, gone to town to sell your father's goods." A cry came from without and Claighan's smile returned. "And now we are there. Come, Daven, and see the Continent."
Just as we emerged from the cabin, the ship rolled lightly, bumped softly against the padded docks, and settled to a stop. The two sailors darted forward and dropped a gangplank in place, moving swiftly. The small port was nearly deserted, with here and there a sailor hurrying past on some errand, and nowhere a sign of curious townsfolk or anxious merchants. Two other ships rested quietly against a pier further down, no sign of movement or business on their decks.
As in Souport, a low wall bordered the dock area, with a gateway through into the city. Just inside the wall stood a knot of fifteen soldiers, armored and armed and looking surly in the early morning sun. As I stepped to the gangplank, I watched half a dozen soldiers swarm onto each of the other Swifts. A captain remained by the barrier wall with a handful of guards around him, and as we made our way across the empty docks he stared at us. Claighan grabbed my elbow as if he needed steadying, but his breath reached my ear. "Be calm. They'll never know you." My heart pounded despite his words.
The wizard stepped up to the guard on the gate and nodded toward the Swifts. "Some bit of commotion, eh captain? What've them wizards got up to now?"
The captain glanced down at him with a look of disgust. He took half a step away from the disguised wizard. "It's all king's business, old man. Move along." Claighan opened his mouth to ask something else, but the soldier jerked a thumb toward the gate. "Now!"
Claighan shrugged then shuffled through the gate and down the lane beyond. I followed him, entirely unnoticed by the captain. Before I slipped through the gate I glanced back toward the Swifts still swarming with soldiers, and I looked toward ours, too. It wasn't there. In its place, instead of the glamorous magical vessel that had flown across the sea, sat a battered old ferryboat, the boards of its hull nailed on three layers thick, and so coated in tar that not a bit of wood showed through. Its rigging was a mess, its sails tattered, and even from twenty paces away it reeked of old fish. I frowned at it, trying to see the truth within the illusion, but Claighan grabbed roughly at the back of my collar and dragged me on my way.
We turned down the first major street and once we were a good distance from the docks, he stood straight and began to walk with his usual strong gait. "As I said, boy, they had no idea what to expect. No trouble at all."
"They'll find out soon those ships were empty."
"Aye, that they will. They'll catch on pretty quick that our ship was a Swift, too. The seeming on her doesn't run very deep. That's why we need to be out of town. Come this way." He led me directly through the town, walking as though he knew the way well, and near the south end of town he stopped at a large inn. "I know the keeper here. Go around to the stables and wait for me there. I'll only be a moment."
Minutes later we were mounted on two fine Southern horses, slipping quietly out of the town with a loaded packhorse following on a lead. Deichelle had no walls, and consequently no suspicious guards to scowl at us as we rode out onto the royal highway that stretched all the way to Tirah. Claighan glanced back over his shoulder once, just as the town slipped from sight behind us, and sighed. "Don't grip so tightly, Daven. You're scaring the horse. We have a long ride ahead, and it wouldn't do to wear him out early."
Despite his warnings I clung to that horse in terror, as the world jolted and shuddered and the hard road rushed past far too quickly.
We pressed hard across the open country, walking the horses almost as much as we rode them. Despite their fine breeding, their endurance would only carry them so far. Unaccustomed as I was to the saddle, I needed the breaks as much as the horses did. We drove the horses past sunset, until the darkness fell so deep even Claighan could not justify the risk. Then we continued on foot until I was ready to drop.
At last the wizard decided it was time to stop. He found a bit of scrub large enough to tie the horses' leads, and we spread out thin palettes to sleep a short night on hard earth. There was no more imaginary feather bed, nor even a normal fire in the chilly spring night. He told me again as he had before, "When you bend reality, reality remembers." And he refused to leave a glowing trail for Seriphenes to track us by. I had learned to feel a cold chill at every mention of Seriphenes's name.
Master Seriphenes and the rebel wizard Lareth and Othin the Eagle. I had enemies in high places. It seemed absurd. These men had turned me into an outlaw. Three more hard days followed like the first, and I spent dark thoughts on my enemies as I ate dried beef and hard rolls and drank from icy streams and slept short nights on the cold earth. Before dawn each morning we packed up and pressed on.
By afternoon of the fourth day Claighan was sure the king's men were on our trail. He looked back often, cursed under his breath, then pressed his horse for a bit more speed. We flew due south, sometimes on the road and sometimes through farmers' fields. I thought of us hiding, of us passing more softly through the terrain and leaving no tracks, but Claighan had no interest in such subterfuge. "We have a lead on them, Daven. We must press that! We are still far ahead of them, and in four days at most, perhaps only three, we will be safe in our sanctuary."
"Will we?" I asked him, wheezing with the exertion of the hard pace. "Will we be safe?"
Claighan frowned and did not answer.
"I won't be," I said. "You said as much at the palace. And Seriphenes is a Master there. The same Seriphenes we're running from."
Claighan nodded and threw an anxious look back over his shoulder. But then he met my eyes. "The king's authority does not reach the Academy. Within its walls, the will of the Masters is sovereign. And Seriphenes is just one of many. We will be safe there."
I ground my teeth against the horse's jarring gait, even at a trot, but forced out the words. "Even me?"
He hesitated for a heartbeat before nodding. "Of course. I will extend you my protection. That will be enough." His eyes held worry, though, and I waited for more. After some time he opened his mouth again, his piercing gaze fixed on the horizon, then said almost under his breath, "As long as we can pass quietly through Gath."
"What if they catch us? What do we do then?"
He looked at me, some sad humor tinting his eyes. "You stay still, and stay alive. I will do what I can with magic. But I will not fight them if I can avoid it. We have already killed one of the King's Guard." His eyes turned sad at the memory, for just a moment. "And that will look less like an accident if we do anything to harm others. For now, though, we have no concern for such things. We ride."
So we rode, hard and fast across beautiful country that never gave pause to our horses. All around us stretched beautiful fields of grass, cut here and there by shallow streams. There were no fences, no walls, and throughout the sunny days there were no villages. This land was littered with little towns, but Claighan had planned his path well, and our unswerving route would take us to only two towns—one late at night, and another where the Masters of the Academy held high favor.
Sometime near sunset on the fifth day I glanced back—just for an instant, I tore my eyes from the land blurring before me—and I saw what had made Claighan curse each time he turned. A small cloud of dust burned gold and red in the setting sun; distant, barely visible on the far horizon, but it followed us where no road went. I turned back, sank low against the neck of my horse, and clung to that racing animal as if it were hope itself. Claighan saw it all, he nodded, then turned his face into the wind as our horses raced on.
Once again we pressed well into the night before Claighan finally called to me to stop. I jerked on the reins and half-fell, half-slid out of the saddle, crashing to the dusty ground before the horse had stopped dancing. Claighan stepped down beside me, his boots slapping softly against the earth, then helped me to my feet.
He looked into my eyes with concern. "Are you yet alive?"
I chuckled darkly. "I am. Yet." I shook off his hand and gave him a smile. "I am fine, Claighan. It has been a hard ride, and I have little practice at such paces."
"You have done well. You have done marvelously. And you must do it again."
"I know. I realize that." I stretched sore muscles, trying to relax, but the memory of a dust cloud haunted me. "How long of a rest?"
He chuckled. "More than a rest, Daven. The horses are near dead. We will sleep until dawn." He pulled a wineskin from the packhorse's bags and pressed it into my hands. "Have something to drink, then find a place to sleep. I'll try to find some food for breakfast."
I sank down where I was, cradling the wineskin like a child. "Are you sure we have time for this, Claighan? They were so close behind us!"
He interrupted the business of unsaddling my horse to pat me on the shoulder. "We have time. They will not risk their horses in the night, not even as much as I did. And you need rest almost as much as the horses do. Worry not, I will take care of you."
I grumbled something acid as I sank down in the dirt. I think he heard me, but he never replied.
Breakfast was berries and some hard rolls that Claighan found in his saddlebags. I washed my face in the cold water of a stream, and then we were on the horses again. I had gained some amount of mastery but I still felt small and uncomfortable perched atop the powerful beast. The air was bright and clear, the sun crisp against the blue sky, but my mood was dark and jittery. I rode tense, still unsure, and tried to ignore the bruised and strained muscles that complained with every step.
Claighan, too, sank into a bleak mood before the sun had even reached the sky. He glanced back often over his shoulder, and finally said. "If I stare too hard I'll bring them on us myself. But then...." He trailed off, then reined up and backtracked for some distance. I stayed on the farmers' footpath, trotting steadily on until he returned. "They must be close, Daven. It's daylight, and they will not have given up. We must be wary."
"I'm too weary for wary, wizard." I gave a dark chuckle at my own words, and it became a long, low, coughing fit of laughter. Claighan shot a worried look at me.
"Daven!" He stopped, glancing over his shoulder as if the soft bark might have caught the attention of a great army. "You must pay attention. We are close enough to refuge that it would be a great shame to be captured now, but we are not close enough to feel safe. Watch every step. I'll be right back." I nodded, making my face serious, and after a moment he seemed satisfied. Again he fell back to search for signs of pursuit. Again I kept on, and after a moment he hurried up beside me and led me to a gallop for most of a mile. And then again we fell to a canter.
We continued in that way throughout the morning of the sixth day, Claighan constantly on edge, and I plodding dutifully down the path. We were walking the horses when we topped a long, low hill and saw far before us a sprawling town bustling in the late morning. Claighan glanced over when my jaw dropped open, and his eyes flicked back ahead. "Gath, at last! Get on your horse, boy! Up! We must appear absolutely unremarkable when we pass through the gates. The people here should not have heard of us yet, but if we draw attention to ourselves we are lost."