Wolf-speaker (22 page)

“We could get old here,” she whispered to Tait. “What are they looking for?”

“The dragon, perhaps?”

She winced. “Kitten. It figures.” She made herself relax, and took a nap. When she woke, the Stormwings and hurroks were gone, and Tkaa had returned. They all left their hiding places, hungry and stiff. While Maura introduced Tkaa to the huntsman, Daine did some thinking. She did not like the story of Gissa's hand, not after seeing that oddly colored smoke over the castle. What were the mages brewing there—more trouble, like the barrier?

A touch on her arm was the basilisk.—
I am to tell you soldiers are at the southern gate to the valley. Also, the
King's Champion and the Knight Commander of the Kings Own are there. Master Numair says that should cheer you up
.—

Hope surged in her mind, and she asked silently, Can he break the barrier with Lady Alanna's help? She's a fair powerful mage.

—
He said you would ask. He and the Lioness cannot break this working. It continues to absorb what power they strike it with, not reflect it. No mages can be spared from the City of the Gods. Some are riding here from the south, and will be here in four days
.—

The girl shook her head. With Tristan up to something, she wasn't sure they had four days. She had to know more, and that meant entering the castle.

It took time to convince the others to push on without her. At last they agreed to move on toward the western pass until dark, then camp, while she and Cloud rode to a spot near the village. No one liked that decision, but Daine's growing fear that something bad was brewing made her overrule them. If Tkaa, Iakoju, and Tait could not keep Maura and Kitten safe, no one could, and only she could wander the castle with no one the wiser.

Cloud worked hard to reach a place near the village before sunset. Twilight had fallen when they halted inside the trees on the town's fringe. Murmuring compliments, Daine rubbed her friend
down. Stop that, Cloud said when she was dry and clean. Go do what you must.

Daine opened her bedroll and lay down under the trees. I don't know how long this will take, she warned her friend. Cloud was nibbling the grass that grew close by and did not answer.

Daine's magic flowed out readily, reaching the castle before she had taken more than two deep breaths. Inside its walls she found horses, goats, chickens, geese, and pigs, all nice animals in their way (although she detested chickens), but ill-suited to a search in a human dwelling. She was nearly resigned to asking the mice for help, and praying they would not be seen. Then, in the kitchen garden, she found two cats.

She approached the elder, a fat, dignified tom who busily washed the inky black fur of a cat not far out of kittenhood. Since the younger cat objected to the tom's vigorous methods, he kept her in place with a powerful forepaw as he cleaned her white bib. When Daine interrupted, he stopped washing, but kept his grip on the younger cat as Daine politely explained her errand.

The tom—named by men Blueness—listened with interest. When she finished, he inspected his claws. I am not sure that I am the cat you need, he told her. There are nooks and crannies where a creature of my noble bulk may not go. He looked at the
other cat. You take the Scrap, here. Even for a kitten she is most inquisitive, and she can get into anything.

Say yes, pleaded Scrap. Please!

Daine had to smile. Thank you, Blueness.

Do not get dirty, Blueness warned Scrap, or I will wash you again.

I can wash myself, the young cat retorted.

Not as well as I can, the tom replied. Now sit quietly while Daine does whatever she must to ride with you.

Daine turned her attention to Scrap, hearing the cat's eyes blink, and the soft pound of her heart.

Are you here yet? asked Scrap, breaking Daine's concentration.

No, Daine said. Almost. Hold still, and hush.

She listened. That was the sigh of Scrap's lungs, and her heartbeat. Her stomach growled softly, digesting milk a cook had left unattended.

Scrap yawned. Well? she demanded. Are you ready?

Now you know what I put up with, muttered Blueness.

Daine focused hard, and Scrap gave a squeak. Now the two of them scratched an itch, and looked at Blueness with Scrap's eyes. He was the most handsome tom she knew, his glossy fur a mix of pure white and sable black. She
loved
Blueness. She would follow him anywhere, particularly if she
could attack his tail. She pounced. Blueness, with the ease of practice, whipped the tail clear and gave her a solid cuff with his forepaw.

Come on, Daine said, and showed Scrap images of Tristan, Yolane, Belden, and the other mages. I'm looking for them.

I can find them, but the female will screech and throw things if she sees me, Scrap replied.

Then don't let her see you, Blueness ordered. Daine, keep her safe.

I will, and thank you, Daine called as they galloped through the kitchen. Why is he named Blueness? she asked as they trotted up a long flight of stairs.

My mama said when he was my age, he fell into a bowl of color the cook uses on food, and he came out all blue. I can't believe he would be that undignified, but that's what my mama said, and she knows everything. Here we are. The man with the yellow magic lets the others visit him here.

“I can't fit the hand if you won't hold still,” a man was saying as Scrap entered. She went under a table and peered out. The room was big, with shelves of books along the walls and silk carpets to cushion feet from the stone floor. Scrap, heedless of the expense or quality of the carpet that extended under the table, kneaded it luxuriously, sharpening her claws.

Daine examined the humans. The mage Redfern
sat with Gissa of Rachne on a sofa. He worked on a metal skeleton hand fixed to the stump of the mage's wrist, making tiny adjustments to it with instruments from the table before them. Gardiner leaned against the sofa's back, watching with interest.

“If Gardiner and Master Staghorn had kept their wits about them, this wouldn't be necessary!” snapped the woman. Pain had aged her face ten years.

“Recriminations are due on
your
side of the ledger, Gissa.” That smooth, oily tone could only be Tristan, Daine thought, and she was right. He sat in a chair beside the table where she had taken refuge. “You are no greenling, fresh from the country. Letting bloodrain splash as you stirred it was—”

“Tristan!” cried a feminine voice. The door opened and humans entered. Scrap looked out cautiously, and Daine saw Yolane, Belden, and Alamid. “Tristan, Alamid showed us the warriors at the southern pass in his crystal. That's the King's
Champion
out there, and the Knight Commander of the King's Own!”

“Alamid shouldn't worry you with minutiae.” There was more than a hint of poison, and meaning, in Tristan's voice.

“Minutiae?”
cried Yolane. “The Lioness and Raoul of Goldenlake are
minutiae
?”

Tristan sighed. “My dear Yolane, calm down.”
He went to a wine table and filled the goblets there, bringing one to her and keeping one. “If I faced Lady Alanna and the Knight Commander with weapons they have mastered, I might feel some concern. I am not such a fool. Believe me, we were prepared for this. In three days they will cease to be even a mild irritation.”

Belden went to the wine table, drank the contents of one of the goblets Tristan had filled, and poured himself a second drink. “Why?”

“My colleagues and I have prepared a little something to welcome the king's representatives. It's called ‘bloodrain.'You might say Gissa already tested the brew for us, and that was before it reached its full potential.”

“She cut off her
own hand
,” Yolane said.

“It was my hand or my life,” snapped the female mage. “If the poison had gotten into my blood, I would have rotted from the inside out.”

“But how will you poison them?” Yolane asked. She finally sat down in the room's biggest chair. “Surely they'll have magical protections on their camp.”

Tristan sat on the chair's arm, sipping his wine. “I don't plan to go near them. At sunset the day after tomorrow, I will take the bloodrain to the southern pass, where the river runs through the barrier, and dump it in.” Gardiner shivered. “By sunrise of the next day, there won't be a living soul in that camp.”

“Or anywhere else for ten miles,” Gardiner said.

Yolane looked at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Bloodrain will kill anything that uses moisture from the river.” The cold, metallic voice was Alamid's. “Animals, plants—it doesn't matter. The zone of destruction will extend nearly five miles on each side of the river, and ten miles downstream.” All the hair on the cat's—Daine's—back stood up.

“For how long?” Belden finished his second cup of wine and poured a third.

“The effects begin to fade after seven years or so,” Gissa replied softly.

“It's necessary,” Tristan said firmly. “Our departure for the capital is scheduled for a week from today. Nothing can be permitted to interfere.”

“What if they're warned?” demanded Yolane. “They might withdraw”

“If they do, they should meet the two companies of mercenaries we have been keeping across the Gallan border,” replied Tristan. “I took the liberty of calling them up in your name, and they will be at the southern gate in three days. Gardiner, tell Rikash to warn Captain Blackthorn to bring his own food and water supplies.”

“And Numair Salmalín?” Belden's drinking hadn't affected his hands or voice as he poured another refill. “He's still in the western pass, isn't he?”

“I have a net I will use to bottle him up. The
emperor wants him alive. It is
always
a good idea to give His Imperial Highness what he wants.”

“I don't like it.” Yolane's face was white under her makeup. “I swore an oath to keep Dunlath safe, when my father gave me his signet. This bloodrain—”

“My dear, you are overscrupulous.” Belden's tone was scornful. “It isn't going to kill anything in Dunlath proper, is it? And what will you care, once you sit on Jonathan's throne? Dunlath is a long way from Corus. Besides, you heard Master Staghorn. It will all grow back in less than a decade.”

Tristan picked up one of Yolane's hands and kissed it. “Yolane, leave command decisions to your generals. As queen, you must get used to sacrificing the lives of a few for the good of all. Think of this as a masterly stroke, which it is. In one move you deprive the king of his champion and the commander of his most personal guard. Those are tactics you need. You have to convince not only your enemies, but your allies, that you deal promptly with opposition.”

“Believe me,” Gissa added, accented voice quite dry, “once they see what is left of those who interfered with you here, they will hurt themselves for the chance to be the first to swear to you.”

Yolane looked at all the mages, frowning. “Why does it have to wait two whole days? Why can't you kill them now?”

“Bloodrain takes time,” Redfern told her. “Once combined, the ingredients must brew for three full days and three full nights.”

Tristan smiled at Yolane in a way Daine thought Belden should object to. “You see, Majesty? Everything is under control. You chose your generals well.”

Yolane looked as if she were about to object again, but Tristan put his finger to her lips. She sighed and looked around the room. Her eyes rested on Daine, and her mouth went tight. Picking up her goblet, she hurled it at Scrap, who ducked out the door, soaked in wine. “If I see that cat again, I'll kill it!” Daine heard her snarl as Scrap raced down the stair.

Now Blueness will wash me again, the youngster told Daine with a sigh. Did you hear what you wanted to?

I heard too much, replied Daine. I think I have to go. Thank you. A lot of people will owe their lives to you for this.

She fled to her body, scrambling to rethink herself human. She succeeded only partly—there were claws on her hands and she appeared to have a tail—but at least she was almost normal size as she entered her skin. Rolling up her bed, she jammed it under some bushes, thinking fast. Could she build wings for herself and fly up to Numair?

You will tire and fall, Cloud informed her. Use
common sense. If you are in a hurry to get to Numair, take the way you know best. But don't ride me—I'm not up to a mad dash to the western pass, not after today. Steal one of the big horses from the village. I will follow you as quickly as I can.

Daine nibbled a fingernail and winced as the claw dug into her lip. I hate to steal, she admitted. But I think I must. She sent out an urgent call.

A large, bony horse grazing nearby came racing over. You want the fastest horse in this valley, he told her. I am the one.

Daine heard the other village horses agree; Rebel was the best at running.

You don't look like much to me, Cloud said, looking the stallion over.

Rebel snorted. That is what everyone thinks. That is why my man wins money when he races me against strangers, and that is why I am fed oats every day.

I am not impressed by your oat ration, Cloud retorted. Seeing that Daine was about to mount, she said, Don't forget your pack, or the crossbow.

Daine slung the pack over one shoulder and the bow over the other, after popping a bolt into the crossbow's notch and clipping it in place. Satisfied? she asked the pony.

And don't take any sauce from this jackanapes. I will follow soon.

Daine had ridden fast horses in the king's service
and with the Riders, but none matched Rebel. The ride through the village, past the crossroads, and onto the road to the western pass left her breathless. Once the last farmhouse was behind them, Daine began to call for Tkaa, Tait's dogs, and the pack as she hung on for her life. When she felt their reply, she told them what she had learned. They agreed to meet her at the barrier.