Firebrand - Page 235/250

• • •

Estral looked forlorn as she rode Coda out of camp, Lieutenant Rennard walking at her stirrup, and the honor guard following with their sad burden.

Karigan felt forlorn herself, having to say good-bye, and especially the reason for it. In time, she was certain Estral would become comfortable in her role as Golden Guardian, and she would make the office her own. In the meantime? It would be damnably tough, and she hoped all the staff at Selium would do their utmost to support her. Karigan thought that, in addition to letters to Alton and Estral’s mother, she’d write Master Rendle and Melry, and others, to ensure Estral had friends around her.

Once Estral and her escorts vanished from sight, Karigan found herself trembling from fatigue and emotion.

“Perhaps you should sit down and have something to eat,” Connly suggested.

“In a little bit.”

First she needed to go hug her horse.

MISTER WHISKERS RETURNS

Everything was falling apart, Alton thought. Estral had left him, King Zachary was missing, and his Green Rider helpers had been recalled to Sacor City. Even Dale. No one else was able to enter the towers, and not for lack of trying. Though the tower mages to the east of the breach could communicate with him, it was not the same as having his fellow Riders, his friends, to assist and keep watch. He guessed he’d keep trying to bring in members of his clan to see if any of the old stoneworking magic remained in the blood of his family and allowed them entry to the towers. So far he’d met with no success.

Now he stood in Tower of the Heavens in a passage beneath the west arch that put him in direct contact with the wall. His hands were pressed against the cool, grainy texture of solid granite, and his consciousness drifted among the sparkling flecks of feldspar and hornblende, and the crystalline structures of quartz. He heard the voices of the wall guardians in song, those disembodied, magical stoneworkers of old whose sacrifices had made the wall strong enough to withstand the ages.

Their song held the wall together, which in turn held the evil of Blackveil at bay. Periodically, Alton communed with the wall and its guardians to help maintain the song and its magic. The guardians accepted him, did not begrudge his presence, but it was clear they missed Estral. Her music and voice had done so much more than strengthen the wall, and in fact, they reduced the cracks that radiated from the breach. Much more than he had done or could do. He sensed the disappointment of the guardians when he made contact and it was just him. He tried to not let it affect his mood as he worked with them, but they only reflected what he truly felt himself.

He came back to himself and dropped contact. Out in the main chamber he found Merdigen sitting in a chair combing out his long, ivory beard.

“The wall has not yet fallen, I see,” the great mage said.

“No, it hasn’t.”

“I wish Lady Estral would return. You’ve been so sulky since she left. Especially since the other Riders departed for the city. I still can’t imagine what is more important than the wall that they had to be recalled.”

“The king, remember? They’re supposed to help look for the king.”

Merdigen shrugged. “Why the urgency to find the king? You have a queen, after all.”

Merdigen’s priorities tended to be rather skewed at times.

“I need some fresh air,” Alton said.

“Sure, sure, leave me alone. Me and my beard.”

Alton shook his head. Just before he stepped through the tower wall to the outside world, he heard Merdigen mutter, “I wish I could go out and have some fresh air.”

The weather was fine, so Alton saddled up Night Hawk for a ride down to the main encampment at the breach. Hawk tossed his head and pranced, and Alton was assailed by guilt that he did not pay his horse nearly enough attention.

• • •

At the main encampment he examined the cracks around the breach, made measurements, and recorded his findings in his logbook. He took reports from the officers on duty there. They kept watch over the breach and into Blackveil Forest. All was quiet, they said. They saw little but the undulating mist on the other side of the wall, and heard little but the occasional scream of some creature within.

“Would you like to take a look, sir?” Corporal Mannis asked. She’d just descended the ladder that leaned against the repairwork of the breach where she’d been keeping watch.

Alton stiffened. It was something he avoided after having been pushed over the side and left to perish in Blackveil. Not that anyone here would do that to him again, but the mere thought of climbing the ladder made him sweat.

“Look!” someone shouted, and pointed to the sky.

Two large shapes circled overhead. Soldiers nocked arrows and aimed crossbows.

“No, wait!” Alton ordered. He shielded his eyes against the sun, wishing he had thought to bring along his spyglass. Were the two circling creatures what he thought they were? Or, were they monsters from Blackveil?

They descended toward the earth in lazy spirals, one tawny, the other black with raven wings. Not monsters of Blackveil, he decided. Mister Whiskers had succeeded in his mission, unless this was just a friend of his and not a mate.

“Put your weapons away,” he ordered the soldiers. “Mister Whiskers has come home.” Merdigen would be pleased. If Alton had been sulky since the departure of his friends, Merdigen had been sullen since the departure of his cat.

The two gryphons landed atop the repairwork of the breach and changed shape into ordinary cats.

Corporal Mannis gasped. “Did I really just see that?”