Dawnsinger Page 3

  Shae’s laugh sounded strained within the quiet room. “These are poor bedtime stories, Lyse.” As the comb yanked at her tangles with sudden vigor, she winced. “Wake me early. I’m sorry, but I mustn’t keep Kai waiting. If it makes you feel better, I’ll tell him what you said. With a bit of caution, the journey should go well. And I’ll watch myself at Torindan.”

  Lyse said nothing more but with deft fingers bound Shae’s hair in a long braid, and then lighted the way into her bedchamber.

  The feather ticking gave beneath Shae, and she lay on her back, content to let Lyse shut her in with the creatures embroidered on the heavy linen bed hangings. As Lyse rustled about banging and latching shutters, Shae gazed in the wavering lanthorn light at rampant gryphons, wingabeasts in flight and unibeasts with whorled horns entwined.

  A golden gryphon batted its wings and pulled free of the bed hangings.

  Shae backed against the carved headboard.

  The gryphon swooped to perch at the foot of her bed and, stretching its sleek head, opened its beak in a roar much greater than its tiny size.

  When the gryphon dove through a gap in the bed hangings, Shae waited for Lyse’s scream, but none came. Before she could ponder what this might mean, a miniature unibeast leaped onto the counterpane and pointed its silver horn at her in challenge.

  With a hammering heart, Shae held her cushions before her like a shield.

  A fluttering shadow crossed over the unibeast.

  Shae looked up in time to see a small white wingabeast circling at the top of the hangings before it, too, flew through the gap.

  The unibeast followed in a graceful leap.

  Shae strained her ears in a silence so profound it seemed to pulse, and then, with a shaking hand, pulled back the hangings.

  Her bed perched at the edge of a steep cliff that fell away into darkness.

  She swung her legs over the side away from the precipice, and her feet met cold stone. Steadying herself with a hand to the damp rock wall that rose from the narrow landing between flights of stairs, she edged past her bed. Her foot slid forward as she searched in dimness for the first rising stair step. An air current stirred her hair, and she swallowed against the taste of bile at its fetid breath.

  Somewhere near, something shrieked.

  The edge of the stair crumbled beneath her foot, and its stones clattered away. Shae pitched forward, crying out as her knees struck the edge of a tread and her palms slapped moist stone.

  She scuttled backwards from the edge and up several stair treads, but as the skin on the back of her neck crawled, turned her head to look behind her.

  Darksome beings crouched above her on the stairs, ready to spring

  A shudder laddered up her spine, and her legs went weak even as a whisper stirred the air.

  “Find the light.”

  She moaned and thrashed, wrenching free of the nightmare to find herself on her bed’s soft tick with the bedding tangled about her. The shutters rattled as wind whined into the chamber and lifted the bed hangings to billow against her. Lyse must have forgotten to latch one of the shutters.

  Throwing back the counterpane, she pushed the hangings aside. Wind buffeted her face. But the shutters remained secured.

  Shae trembled in her thin shift, an uncanny awareness lifting the hair at her nape. A dank odor assaulted her, and she sensed, rather than saw, the fell creature that slithered into the room.

  Shae’s knees went weak, and she slid to the floor as the unseen predator coiled itself around her mind—probing, squeezing, seeking entrance.

  Her scream strangled in her throat.

  ****

  Kai snapped a sprig of rosemary and inhaled its robust fragrance. Sleep eluded him, despite his weariness. He tilted his head back and breathed in the green scent of life that permeated the garden. Stars burned into his eyes, so near it seemed he could pluck one from the velvet sky. As he watched, a tiny light arced overhead and extinguished. The lonely call of a nightbird pierced the darkness. He had tiredness enough to sleep. What he lacked was peace.

  He would not let himself think of Daevin gone forever, lost in the cruel sea, or worse, cut down in cold blood after reaching shore. Dark fancies crowded his mind. He pushed them away. Better to remember kinder days, when he and his brother had tangled like puppies and bandied good-natured insults. No. He shook his head as if that gesture could clear his pain—better not to remember at all.

  Kai pulled a handful of buds from spikes of lavender that rose beside the mossy path. They filled his mouth with sweetness. Perhaps the herb would ease his rest. He could not keep Shae safe if fatigue clouded his mind. He pictured her as she had appeared earlier—garbed in a garment of mossy green, plaited hair hanging to her waist, a knotted band of doeskin circling her brow. Where had that engaging sprite gone? He glimpsed her at times in the spring of the maid’s step and in the lift of her head, but the once-bright eyes now gathered shadows. He sighed and remembered a time, not so long before, when his young arms, aching from the unaccustomed task, carried her across the Plains of Rivenn. He’d sheltered her from wind and cold and the rain that mixed with bitter tears to stream down his face.

  Kai turned away from the clutch of remembrances as the shutters at the raelein’s parlor window grated open. His mother’s face peered out, pale as a specter. What kept her awake in the night? Did she pray for Daevin’s return? Perhaps she fretted over Shae. Or himself. He could not know. His mother had ever been an enigma. She’d wept at his father’s decision to release him into service to Torindan, but had not bid him farewell. She’d flown to embrace him when he returned to visit, but held aloof when he offered her his comfort. Some thin cord of attachment still stretched between them, but he did not know its strength.

  His mother withdrew, and the shutters banged shut. Had she failed to see him standing at the edge of shadow or simply decided to seek her rest? He should return to his own bed. Morning would come too early. Having determined his course, he cast one last glance at the night sky—and went still.

  Wings unfurled against the moon’s pale face as two wingabeasts bearing riders passed overhead.

  A feeling of unease traveled Kai’s spine. Had pursuers followed him?

  As if in answer to his thought, a scream throbbed through the air, and he abandoned the garden to its mysteries.

  He burst into Shae’s chamber. Why was the door unlatched?

  Lyse, holding a lanthorn in one hand and screaming, stood over Shae’s prostrate body, which sprawled on the rug beside the bed. The maid lifted a frightened face toward Kai but, as recognition dawned, left off screaming and put a hand to her throat as if gathering herself to speak.

  Kai crouched and placed his hand to the base of Shae’s throat. He let out his breath on a sigh. “She’s alive. What happened?”

  Lyse bent closer, and the lanthorn she held cast fretful light over Shae. “I heard an odd cry, so I checked on my mistress and found her here on the floor.” A sob shuddered through her. “I couldn’t wake her.”

  He lifted Shae, laid her on the bed’s feather tick, and then pressed his lips to her forehead. Her temperature felt normal. He stepped back, gazing at Shae in frustration. She seemed to have sustained some sort of wound he couldn’t see.

  As Lyse tucked the counterpane around her mistress, Kai stepped to one of the room’s tall windows, drew the hangings and unlatched the shutters. He stared into the dark sky, where the feeble moon hid behind clouds. No sign remained of the wingabeasts and their riders.

  He returned to the bedside, where Shae’s maid knelt in prayer. He pulled her to her feet by her clasped hands. “Pray, but do it on the way to Praectal Aelgarod’s chambers. She needs medical care.” He pulled the knife from his boot and pressed it in her hands. “Go in darkness and watch yourself.”

  Her eyes widened, but then she nodded.

  Kai latched the door behind Lyse, and then turned in time to see Shae’s eyelids twitch. Her lips parted on a moan.

  “Shae!”
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  Her eyes slitted open.

  “Can you talk?”

  “Something evil found me.”

  “What do you mean?” Kai struggled to keep his voice level.

  “It strangled my mind and almost consumed my soul, but it released me when I called out to Lof Yuel.”

  “Lyse heard your cry. Her screaming alerted me.”

  Shae’s gaze penetrated his. “I don’t think I’ll go to Torindan, after all. I don’t think it’s...safe.”

  He mastered his dismay. “I’m afraid it’s too late to refuse. You’re no longer safe anywhere.”

  ****

  “Will it be difficult to stay seated?” Shae eyed Flecht with new respect. It had been one thing to remain on the wingabeast’s back while riding yesterday, but today they would lift into the air and fly like the birds. What had persuaded her to agree to such a thing?

  Kai laughed. “You look as you did when you swung on that rope across the stream as it ran with water in the early spring.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “And do you recall what happened then?”

  “You only got a little wet.” The mirth left his face and he touched her cheek. “Pay no mind, Shae. This will come easier than using our rope swing. The saddle is built to carry two in safety, and I won’t let you fall.”

  She hesitated, bit her lower lip, and then reached for the saddle. Kai steadied her as she placed her foot in the rear stirrup and pulled herself upward into the back seat of the double saddle. Now astride, she felt somehow better, although she couldn’t unravel the hidden thread of logic in such a thing. Kai lifted into the saddle before her, and she put her arms around him. “Will we lodge the night somewhere?”

  He spoke near her ear. “We will. I can’t expect you to ride all night as I sometimes must. It would not please the Lof Raelein if I delivered you fainting to her bedside.”

  Shae smiled at such an image. Her spirits lifted, despite the danger, at the prospect of a journey. She had never traveled far from Whellein. The idea of going anywhere, let alone to Torindan, filled her with wonder. That she should go with Kai only increased her joy. But her happiness dimmed at the prospect of visiting the Lof Raelein upon her deathbed. And Shae could not shake the sense of foreboding that hounded her.

  As they left the stables for the outer bailey and turned onto the path that would take them past the great hall and on to the west gate, Shae couldn’t help a hollow feeling of loss.

  “Wait!” A voice hailed them from the archway that led to the inner drawbridge. Mother ran toward them in the gathering light, the cloak of scarlet wool she carried trailing from her hands. Her silver hair flew unbound behind her, and she looked as if she had dressed in haste.

  Kai turned Flecht, and his mother caught the wingabeast’s bridle.

  He reached down to take the hand she raised. “What troubles you, Mother?”

  “I thought—” She gasped for breath. “I thought I had missed your going.”

  “It is well you did not.” Kai chided her, but in a warm voice.

  She turned to Shae. “Take this cloak to warm you in your journeys.”

  “Mother, I can’t take your best cloak.”

  “Please!” she cried and put her face against the marmelot fur of the cloak’s lining. “Pray, receive my gift.”

  Shae blinked away tears. “Thank you.” When Kai helped her dismount, she exchanged her own cloak for the embrace of her mother’s. “I shall return it unharmed.”

  Giving a wispy smile, Mother touched Shae’s face. “Mind you do.”

  With a small sound, Shae went into her mother’s arms.

  When the embrace ended, Mother held her at arm’s length as her gaze traveled over Shae.

  Shae stirred. “I’ve had no time to say goodbye to anyone.”

  “I’ll say your farewells, my daughter.”

  Kai helped Shae mount, and then joined her on Flecht’s back.

  Mother gazed up at Shae, her eyes bright with tears. “Submit to your brother’s care. I would have you safe.” With a last butterfly touch of Shae’s hand, she stepped away.

  At the west gate, Kai turned Flecht for a final goodbye.

  Shae lifted her hand at her mother’s wave and, as they passed through the gatehouse, carried away the image of Aeleanor of Whellein wrapped in an emerald cloak with the early light threading her hair, watching her children depart from her.

  ****

  With beating wings Flecht leaped into the air. Shae’s heart raced, and she held on to Kai with trembling hands until the wingabeast’s flight leveled. Air washed over her in a rhythmic rush and flow. They must have cleared the trees by now, but she dared not look. She hid her face against the blue perse of Kai’s cloak and clutched him with such fierceness his hand covered hers to soothe. Their flight leveled, and the flapping of wings silenced for so long she opened her eyes in alarm.

  Vast landscapes unfolded on every side, just awakened by dawn. Pink-tinged mists undulated above hills washed in hues of green. The waters of Weild Whistan winked wavery light as they threaded in and out of the rich tapestry of the Maegran Syld, known by the Elder as the Hills of Mist. The weild passed into the Kaba forests and emerged to become the Elder’s White Feather River where it entered Norwood. Maeg Streihcan, the “Broken Mountain,” lifted its ragged head in the fore distance, where it floated and shimmered as if it might soon vanish. The other peaks of the Maegrad Ceid, the “Crystal Mountains,” sliced the air to the south, beyond the mottled green of the Kaba canopy.

  Whellein Hold dwindled behind them, its fields and lawns the only clearings of any size in the Kaba forest that ran to the foothills of the Maegrad Paesad, the “Impenetrable Mountains.” To the west and north, a nameless moorland stretched for lengths to reach salt marshes edged by sparkling sea.

  She sighed, lost in wonder. Nothing could have prepared her for such exquisite beauty.

  Flecht’s wings stretched into a glide, feathers rippling in invisible currents. Their shadow chased them on the ground below, but the feeling of motion was gone. It seemed they hung, suspended, above the morning sun, which sat on the shoulders of the mountains and stained all in hues of red and pink and mauve.

  As she relaxed against Kai, he released the hand he’d comforted. They flew lower, drawing level with the Kaba canopy where wingens and croboks darted and bushes rooted in the joints of the trees. Shae lost herself in the ever-changing vistas that unfolded below— plunging cascades, shallow rapids, and a wide place of many channels cutting between islets.

  Flecht spiraled downward, and the rush of air in Shae’s face roused her. They lighted on a small island where a flat shelf of rock jutted out to disrupt the current. Waves churned against their perch, only to curl around and lap the islet’s shore. Beyond the wash, underbrush and thickets tangled in profusion and croboks nested beneath a sheer face of rock.

  Shae stretched cramped legs and ate bread and cheese washed down with deep draughts of gamey water from elkskin bags. She wished they could linger in this pleasant spot.

  “Come,” Kai said all too soon. “We must press on while it is yet day.” He called for Flecht.

  As the wingabeast approached, Shae took the hand Kai extended and let him draw her to her feet, but then paused.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “My foot’s asleep.”

  Kai swung Shae into his arms. “Shall I lift you to Flecht’s back? I promise not to dump you in the water.”

  “I’ve heard those words before!” She referred to the time when she’d managed to take him with her into the brook at Whellein Hold. Her lips curved at the memory, and Kai’s eyes gleamed. But then her smile died.

  Two hooded riders astride wingabeasts dropped toward them, dark against a blue sky. Steel glinted along swords held at the ready.

  4

  Along the White Feather

  Shae landed in Flecht’s saddle with a thump as Kai deposited her with more speed than grace. He bent and then straightened, and she caught the glint of met
al.

  Kai pressed something into her palm, and her fingers curled around a knife’s hilt. “They’ll need to dismount to attack with swords. I’ll defend you, but if things go badly, take Flecht and follow the weild to the inn. You’ll see it just back from the banks. You can trust the innkeeper.”

  Kai strode from her before she could point out that she had no idea how to fly a wingabeast. His sword rasped as he drew it from its sheath.

  Just overhead, the riders split from one another. As they neared, Shae could see their eyes gleaming through cutouts in their hoods. Their wingabeasts’ hooves touched ground, and they jumped from the saddle and onto the rock shelf with swords pointed at Kai.

  The first rider advanced, a hair’s breadth ahead of his companion, and as Kai met his lunge, swords clashed. Kai parried the second rider’s thrust and spun to deflect the first rider’s sword, which clanged against his armshield. Over and over, steel rang out.

  Flecht snorted and laid his ears back, dancing beneath Shae. She patted the wingabeast’s neck in an attempt to soothe him, but she felt less than calm herself. Although Kai fought well, how could he defend for long against two swordsmen? His knife weighted her hand, but she had no idea what to do with it. As a raena of Whellein, her training had included protocol and decorum, not fighting.

  The riders closed in on Kai yet again, and the swordplay moved nearer. Flecht shrilled, and stones scattered beneath his churning hooves. One rider turned to point his sword toward Shae, but Kai’s blade intercepted him. “Go now!” Kai called, and then whirled to stop another attack.

  His words kicked her in the stomach, for they told her he didn’t expect to survive. Her mind recoiled at the thought, and she sent a wordless plea to Lof Yuel. She turned Flecht’s head westward but hesitated. Even if she knew how to send a wingabeast into flight, should she? Turning Flecht toward the battle, she gave up the notion of escape. She might have to watch him die, and then fall by the sword herself, but she could never leave Kai.