3 When Darkness Falls.8 (54 page)

"I swear to it by the Light. And that will come as an unwelcome surprise for that upstart carrion-bird very soon, I hope. Kellen, I have scryed within the walls of the City, watched the Council at its deliberations. The Selken grain-ships will not come until spring. There is rationing in the City, and talk of sending the Militia out to seize the farmers' stored provisions. Who knows how many — if any — will survive, if they are sent outside the walls? And Anigrel uses every death to fuel the terror of the Wildmages. I think he hopes to bring Lycaelon to consider… an alliance."

"An alliance?" Kellen asked, temporarily diverted from the reason for which he had come. "With whom? He wouldn't let the Elves into the City when Hyandur came; the Armethaliehans think the Centaurs are animals, and — "

"With
Them,
" Cilarnen said.

"He can't," Kellen said, aghast. "They can't. They'd never consider it."

"Frighten them enough, and they would," Cilarnen said grimly. "
They
can change
Their
shape to look like anything — I've seen it. If Anigrel tampers with the Wards enough, the High Mages won't have those to warn them. And anybody who disagrees with Anigrel or his Magewardens or Commons Wardens tends to just… vanish."

Kellen emitted a low hiss of dismay. This was worse than he'd thought. "You've told Redhelwar all this?"

"Yes, of course, but I'm not sure he completely understands how bad the situation is," Cilarnen said.

Elven emotions were hard for humans to read at the best of times. It was just as likely that Redhelwar understood
exactly
how bad the situation in Armethalieh was getting, and Cilarnen simply didn't realize it.

But it made getting to Armethalieh more imperative than ever.

By now the kettle on the tea-brazier was bubbling violently. Cilarnen busied himself for a moment in preparing the pot, scooping in several measures of Armethaliehan Black and setting out two tall mugs that Kellen recognized as coming from his own supplies.

"It's worse than you think," Kellen said. "The reason you're here is because Andoreniel is gravely ill with plague. Rochinuviel told me he's too sick to give orders, and Ashaniel, who could rule in his place, is at the Fortress of the Crowned Horns and can't return."

"Can't Redhelwar just take over?" Cilarnen asked.

"I don't think so," Kellen said cautiously. "If Andoreniel can't make the decisions that affect the whole of the Elven Lands, his Council must do it — if any of them are still alive. Or, failing that, one of the other Viceroys, maybe. But I'm not sure."

Cilarnen poured the water into the waiting pot, and stared at it as if he would find his answers there. When the tea was ready, he poured it, and spoke.

"So the army cannot — will not — act without orders from the King, or someone who speaks for him. And the King is ill. And you do not think that anyone but Andoreniel will do what needs to be done — which is go to Armethalieh as soon as we can, because from all you have told me, if
They
manage to make
Their
alliance with the City, we are all doomed. But Kellen, what do you want from me?"

"I know that the High Magick can heal. And you said yourself that you removed the
geas
Anigrel had placed upon you." Cilarnen flung his hands in the air in despair.

"Kellen, I am a half-trained High Mage, not the Eternal Light Itself! Andoreniel has
plague
— he is not — not a wall to blast down! I can do that! I barely undid what Anigrel had done to me without killing myself — I only tried because I was desperate. To Heal properly — that requires study of the body that I have not done, other High Mages working together to balance the spell-energies. I would be as likely to kill Andoreniel as cure him. Idalia is a great Wildmage Healer — Jermayan can do things with his magic that the entire College of High Mages could not imagine — this morning, he built a bridge across the Angarussa that looks now as if it has stood for a hundred years! And you're asking
me?
"

"Yes," Kellen said bluntly. "Because your magick, working with a Wildmage's, can kill
Them.
And we all know that
They
have sent the plagues."

"You're a fool," Cilarnen said.

"I have no choice," Kellen answered. Though whether to be a fool, or to try anything he could think of, he wasn't sure.

Cilarnen sighed. "I only hope it does not come to that. If it does, I shall try all I can. But I would rather not kill anyone. By accident," he added.

Kellen realized then that Cilarnen had probably never killed anyone at all — unless you counted the Demon at Stonehearth that his spells had helped to destroy. Certainly, in the aftermath of the villages' destruction, and in overseeing what the Demons had done to Nerendale, he had seen death in plenty, but it was not the same.

Even after all the deaths that had followed it, Kellen vividly remembered his reaction to the first death
he
had been personally responsible for. He would certainly be taking Cilarnen into the middle of battle. Would Cilarnen be able to do what was necessary when the time came?

"Cilarnen," he said. "Idalia told me that you are drawing power off the Elven Land-Wards. If we
did
ride to Armethalieh — outside the Elven Lands — would you still be able to cast spells?"

Cilarnen looked thoughtful.

"I suppose I must see. There are… people… I can ask. Perhaps arrangements can be made. Certainly the ancient War Mages did not draw their power from the Elven Land-Wards."

"See what you can find out. And one more thing. When the caverns are finished, there will be ventilation shafts. I need a way to keep… things from crawling down them. Things we don't want."

* * * * *

CILARNEN smiled, relieved that Kellen had finally set him a task within the scope of his abilities. "Now that is a simple matter, if you have stonecarvers with you. Simply carve as many cats, or rats, or ferrets as you like, even dogs — anything small enough to fit. I shall enchant them into golems, and they will watch over your airshafts forever."

* * * * *

IDALIA and Jermayan did not return that evening, and Kellen hoped it was a good omen. He was certain that at least Jermayan and Ancaladar would have returned if the worst had happened.

As the camp settled into preparations for the evening meal, Kellen realized he had not seen Vestakia for several hours.

Not that he was looking for her, of course. And certainly, as far as the army had been able to determine, these woods were now safe. And Shalkan would not leave her alone.

Still, he would feel better knowing exactly where she was.

Great wet fluffy flakes of snow were falling as he wrapped his cloak around himself and set out in search of her. And Shalkan, of course. He barely noticed. Compared to the weather near Ysterialpoerin, it was almost warm.

As he'd expected, he found them in the Coldfire-lit grove. At least she wouldn't freeze. Not with Shalkan to warm her.

He cleared his throat.

Both of them looked up.

"It's dinnertime," he said simply. "I've brought yours with me," he added to Shalkan. Some fruit-stuffed buns, made with some of the dried fruit they'd gotten at Ondoladeshiron, and, of course, several bars of the eternal Elven journey-food.

"At least you don't mean me to starve," Shalkan said, switching his tail. "Vestakia has been telling me some very interesting things today. Things you should hear."

"For that matter, I had an interesting conversation with Cilarnen," Keller, said. "But we can leave that for another time. What is your news?"

He unslung the bag from his shoulder and removed the contents, starting with the fruit buns. Shalkan always preferred to eat his dessert first.

"While you were gone, I spent a
very
long time trying to talk to the Crystal Spiders," Vestakia said. "And so I got very good at listening. And I think, now. that I am hearing… other things. Things I am not truly meant to heat. I think… Kellen, I think I can hear my father's mind."

Kellen nearly dropped the fruit bun he was holding. Vestakia's father was the Prince of Shadow Mountain.

"Oh?" he said, hoping his voice sounded noncommittal. First Cilarnen told him that he had been bespelled to be a magickal assassin, and now this.

"When I was trying to locate the last Enclave of the Shadowed Elves, I kept feeling, very strongly, that it must be far to the south. But the Crystal Spiders could not know that — they have no sense of direction at all!" she added, with a stilled giggle. "I came to realize I felt that because
he
knew where the last Enclave was. If I had only realized it sooner, I'm sure I could have found it faster. You see, now that
They
are so active in the world again, I feel
Them
everywhere now, all the time," she added sadly. She rubbed her arms beneath her cloak, as if her skin crawled. "I can still tell when
They
are coming close, or when I come near to something Tainted, but the other is like a noise that will not stop."

"Vestakia, you must do something about this," Kellen said urgently. "You can't go on like this. Idalia has drugs to shut down the magical senses — "

"Kellen, no. If I really
can
tell what
he's
thinking, even just a little, we can use that! I think, I sense — " She put her hands to her temples and closed her eyes. "There's something we can use, I know there is. He ought to be happy. Shouldn't he? But I don't feel anything like that."

Shalkan cleared his throat meaningfully.

Kellen forced himself not to think. He fed Shalkan another fruit bun, then a journey-bar.

Vestakia was right.

If he was willing to use Cilarnen, knowing what danger he placed the young High Mage in, he must use Vestakia as well.

There could be no difference between them in his mind. In his thoughts.

"What if he finds out what you're doing?" he said at last.

"I don't think he will," Vestakia said slowly. "We have always been… linked. That is how he knew I was alive, and why he has searched for me all these years. I think the only difference is that I can hear him now, instead of just him hearing me. It is stronger when I sleep. I think it will keep getting stronger, as
Their
power grows stronger."

Kellen nodded. "I will need to know all you can tell me."

If the Prince of Shadow Mountain was unhappy about something, Vestakia was right. There might be something in that that they could use.

They just needed to find out what it was.

* * * * *

EVEN after sennights of fighting the plague, the House of Healing was far better equipped for her needs than the Healer's Tents Idalia had left behind, and with the Flower Forest so close at hand — not to mention an entire herd of unicorns — every element of her remedies was easily available.

If only they could stop the plagues and blights at their source!

But that would require defeating Shadow Mountain, and they were already doing their best to do that.

With the help of several of the Elven Healers, she prepared large batches of the cordial, salve, and bath — enough to continue Andoreniel's treatment when the supplies she had brought ran out, and to treat other victims as well. Each was normally used at a different stage of the plague, in hopes of keeping it from progressing further, but Andoreniel's was the worst case she had ever seen, and if he were not Healed quickly, he would surely die.

While she was working — the remedies required careful preparation, but only after they were complete could she use the power of the Wild Magic to charge them — Jermayan entered.

He had gone to see to Ancaladar's comfort, and to see if — perhaps — the power of an Elven Mage might prevail where the power of a Wildmage could not.

But one look at his face told her that he had failed.

"It is as you have said," he told her, taking the long wooden spoon from her hand and slowly stirring the large cauldron of salve that heated over the low fire in the Healers' Stillroom. The mixture required constant stirring if it was not to burn.

"I went to Dargainon's bedside — he is not so ill as Andoreniel, and the Healers think he could recover. But all the Healing spells I know will not heal this plague."

"I don't understand it," Idalia said in frustration. "A Healing spell will heal almost anything. It is almost as if there's something else we need to do first — and I just can't figure out what it is, though every one of us has done every form of divination there is to try to find out."

"It is very much like the time that Petariel was wounded by the Shadowed Elf poison, when we did not yet know what it was," Jermayan said. "The Healers treated the poison, to no effect, not realizing they must Banish the Taint from the wound with a powerful spell before their drugs would work."

"Then there is something here we must figure out how to banish," Idalia said. "But what — and how?"