Dawnsinger (30 page)

The stream deepened. She gulped as much air as she could and dove underwater. If she escaped notice, she could hide there until after the abominable creatures—until they left again. She slammed into hidden rocks as she slid through the murky water. A boot came off and her skirts hampered her, but she surfaced, gasping in air. The current sucked her back under only to spew her out further downstream. Its roaring drowned out the screeches of the
welkes—
and any other sounds. Shae plunged into the pool with such force she sank deep and fought to surface. She looked around her, shuddering in anticipation, but nothing pursued. Shae plunged back to the depths and pulled with strong strokes for the shadowed green recesses farthest from the feeding stream. She discovered her mistake too late, for the turbulence held her under until her lungs burned and darkness threatened to overtake her. Just when she thought she must drown, the current bobbed her to the surface. As she pulled air into her burning lungs, she drifted toward a stone lip.

She plunged, screaming, through the falling water into another pool.

Light drew her upward, and with bursting lungs she kicked for the surface. She emerged to the deafening roar of a cataract. The sun lay low in an empty sky, tinting the pool she approached with reds and mauves. Staying away from the edge this time, she dove deep and came up behind the water falling from the pool above.

She pulled herself from the water onto the shelf of rock at the edge of the pool. The wind misted her with spray and, although she wound her arms about herself, she could not stop shivering.

She crawled into a cleft behind the waterfall. She could hide from the welkes here but not from her thoughts. Images of Kai and Dorann intruded. Had they perished? Putting a hand to her mouth to quiet her sobs, she curled into a ball and fell into a half-sleep troubled by dreams of Freaer. She felt his “touch”at the edge of awareness, just out of reach. Instinctively, she shielded herself. And then blessed oblivion came.

She opened her eyes. Silver water, ruffled by the night wind, cascaded before her. She gazed at the waterfall in bewilderment but as memory returned closed her eyes. Emotion rose to choke her, but she clamped down on it. For all of their sakes, she had to survive. Wriggling out of the cleft, she halted when her tunics caught. A rip answered her tug. She crawled forward and pulled to her knees. With cupped hands, she reached into the waterfall. Icy water eased her dry throat. Her stomach growled in protest. With no food to give it, she drank again.

She staggered to her feet. One bootless foot peeped from beneath the ripped tunics lying sodden and heavy against her legs. Shivers racked her, and her teeth chattered. She wound her arms about herself and fought the strange numbness that dulled her senses. She had to think.

Her cloak remained behind in the chasm. Survival demanded she retrieve it. Besides, she wouldn’t get far in Caerric Daeft without a lanthorn. Bile rose to the back of her throat. How could she look upon the remains of the welke’s
feast
? And yet she must return or perish from the cold.

She had sensed she would finish her journey alone but had not understood what that would cost. If she had known, she would have left Graelinn Hold alone and in secret to spare Kai and Dorann. She pushed the thought away, for it brought a hitch of pain. She would not be able to go on if she dwelt on her sorrows. She must not delay, or her courage might fail.

Brael Shadd glowed steady upon the horizon.

She raised her fist at the star. “
Lof Yuel!
Do you mock me?”

Even as she spoke, rage drained from her. She hung her head. “You ask more than I can give.”

Peace.
The word whispered across the ebain — or did it speak only in memory? She lifted her head.

A wayfarer of Elder blood had comforted her in the Allerstaed.
You are not alone.

Clinging to handholds, she tackled the bluff. Pain slashed her leg and her fingernails tore, but she reached the lip of rock at the top of the waterfall. She paused to gasp in air and looked out over the ebain, where spirals of mist eddied above the chasms like specters shifting in the moonlight.

She hadn’t realized how far the water had taken her. The stream shone with liquid fire as it tumbled over gleaming rocks, but its banks lay in darkness. Shae made her way with difficulty across the rough terrain, despite the light of the moon. Her hips soon ached from her uneven gait, and she eased off her existing boot to relieve them. She had no real hope of finding the other, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to discard the one she held. She made faster progress with both boots off, although sharp stones sometimes gouged her bare feet.

The chasm near the leaning ederbaer bushes lay quiet, limned in moonlight, but a foul odor drifted to her. Shae’s feet made little sound on the naked rock. She shrank at the sight of dark bits and pieces scattered about an inky pool which as she drew closer, proved to be blood. The shredded remains of a welke ringed it about. Her gorge rose at the sight and stench, and she pressed a hand to her mouth. Its fellows had obviously set upon the welke that had attacked them, perhaps drawn by its bleeding.

She turned away from what was left of the welke and steeled herself to search the chasm. Their belongings lay scattered about, but there was no sign of Kai or Dorann. Gathering her cloak from beneath the bush where they had sheltered, she pulled its folds close about her.

What had happened? Had the birds carried her companions off? It seemed the only explanation, but she took foolish hope from Whyst’s absence. If Kai were dead, surely his sword would lie somewhere at hand.

She found the lanthorn, but the oil that fueled it puddled around an unstoppered flask. The lanthorn itself held only a small portion of oil, but it would have to suffice. As she searched for flint, she caught sight of something that glinted. Her fingers closed upon the locket she’d given Kai in her early days—a silverstone on a silver chain that gleamed as she raised it to catch the moonlight.

Smiling even as grief smote her, she touched the locket to her lips. Tears choked at the back of her throat. She could not let sobs overtake her. Not here. Not now. She clasped the chain at the back of her neck, and the locket swung into place against her chest. Its small weight gave her a measure of comfort. Something of Kai would go with her.

A single tear coursed down her cheek, and brushing it away she turned eastward. She’d cross this night to the crags and boulders at the feet of Maeg Waer, and then enter Caerric Daeft.

Alone.

25

Cavern of Death

The suck and lap of water roused Kai. Rolling onto his back with a slosh, he opened his eyes to darkness. He sat upright, every muscle protesting, and his head hit something solid. As he put up a hand, his fingers grated against cold rock close above him. He pushed into a low crouch, all he could manage in this tight space, and wet sand scraped his palms.

Memory came then. Screeches and dark wings. Rent flesh. Spattered blood. Just keeping his grip on Whyst as he jumped into the stream after Dorann. The shrieking of the welkes as they devoured their wounded member.

Swept down a series of cataracts, he’d found a handhold at waterline while Dorann slid over the next waterfall. With welkes screeching overhead, he’d heaved himself into a small hole in the rock face.

The thought of Shae alone in the night, possibly injured, spurred him now. He crawled toward the blue light at the mouth of the small hole and emerged behind a sparkling ribbon of water falling into a pool of black silk.

He slipped into the pool and, staying away from the main current, struck for the bank. Bumping to the edge, he pulled himself out. Water sheeted from him as he stood upon bare rock. He shook, shedding droplets like a dog.

The cold cut like a knife. He needed his cloak, and if Shae or Dorann lived, perhaps he would find them in the chasm where it lay.

Before he turned aside, Kai peered from the edge into the dark pool below.
“Shae! Dorann!”

A night bird exploded from its perch in some rocky crevice below and became a white blur winging across the ebain. Its plaintive whistle carried on the wind. No other reply answered him. He hadn’t really expected one.

Kai’s boots squelched as he walked, but he ignored their discomfort—even welcomed the distraction—for he would not soon erase the image of Shae standing bold and alone against the welke, Whyst raised high. Nor could he forget Dorann’s panicked expression as the current carried him away.

Something caught his eye, a hard-edged object along the shore. Plucking Shae’s sodden boot from the stream, he tasted the salt of tears. He gathered himself to trudge onward, but other images weighted his steps. Maeven lying still in death…Shae flinging early petals over his head…Aeleanor huddled in her daughter’s cloak…Daeven tilting his hat as he rode away, never to return.

He reached the chasm and found his cloak near his pack. He settled its warmth over his shoulders. Dorann’s cloak remained but Shae’s had vanished. Hope stirred. Had she survived? The contents of their packs littered the area—strewn, no doubt, by welkes in search of food. Kai gathered his belongings. Spilled oil pooled on the ground, but he found no lamp. His heart turned over as hope, and then certainty, seized him.

Shae lived.

****

Shae put her lone boot back on. Better to limp than to have two slashed and numbed feet. She tore strips from her tunic and bound her bootless foot with them. Even so, cold soon penetrated the cloth. As the night progressed, her clothing had dried but she still shivered in her cloak. At times the world receded, and she fancied herself a ghost floating across the ebain. Other times, she dragged, all too aware of each painful step.

Light blushed across the eastern sky as Shae fetched against one of the great boulders in the foothills beneath Maeg Waer. She spread herself flat against the rock and eyed the mountain towering overhead. If she didn’t find and enter Caerric Daeft, the welkes would find her when they left their roosts. But she held back for want of courage. How could she face the Cavern of Death alone?
Lof Yuel, help me
.

A cool touch brushed her mind across time and space. She smiled through her tears.
Elcon lived.
He would need the DawnKing’s help to free Elderland.

She stood and faced the mountain.

A faint path led to a cleft marking the entrance to Caerric Daeft
.
At the mouth of the cave, she turned for a last look across Laesh Ebain. Even the gentle morning light could not ease the bleak landscape. Brael Shadd glinted in the distance, not troubling to rise above the horizon. A shaft of light followed her inside the cave, but there deserted her. She paused, shivering in the sudden cold, and ignited the lanthorn as she had seen it done by Dorann and Aerlic. Her fingers fumbled over the unaccustomed task. It took longer than it ought, but she at last held the lighted lamp aloft. She peered about to gain her bearings, and a frisson of fear traveled her spine. This cave resembled the one she’d visited in her dreams.

She set her fears aside and moved into the cave, but halted in wonder. A large chamber, finer than any built by Kindren hands, unfolded before her. The near walls glittered with a thousand tiny lights of gold, white, and pink. The lights seemed so luminous. Would they continue to glow if her lanthorn went out? Stalagtites hung from the ceiling like icicles, while stalagmites of the same smooth material thrust upwards from the cave floor.

This majestic cave would make a fitting tomb. She shivered when she remembered it had become just that for many of the early Kindren. What would it be like to encounter a garn in these passages?

She pushed the question away, for it would only defeat her, and followed an arched passage farther into the cave, moving as one in a dream. Each turn uncovered fresh marvels— luminescent draperies of rock, walls as smooth and white as milk, and a crystal bridge that spanned an abyss. Chamber opened onto chamber, passage gave way to passage. Almost, she forgot time and place in awe. The drip of water echoed throughout, and here and there she skirted pools that shone like glass and fell away to depths unknown. She passed great pillars of stone that rose into darkness and holes that dropped to nowhere.

Just when she lost all sense of direction, Shae didn’t know, but she had no idea which way to turn to find the ancient stone stairway that climbed to Lohen Keil
.
She pressed on, trying not to panic, but the cave seemed to breathe, as if it lived—or as if something that lived followed her here.

She halted. The chamber before her seemed familiar. Did she travel in circles? She turned back and slammed into something warm and alive. A hand covered her mouth and stifled her scream.

The lanthorn swung in her hand, arcing light across the near walls and creating grotesque shadows before it sputtered and extinguished. A blue light remained. Although she didn’t know its source.

“
It’s me, Shae!”
A familiar voice spoke near her ear, and the arms released her.

She stepped back.

Kai’s form stood before her. Whyst glowed with blue light in his hand. “Keep your voice low,” he told her. “We don’t know what darksome creatures dwell here.”

She looked askance at the apparition before her.
Had she at last gone mad?

He caught her shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. “What’s happened to you, Shae? Do you fear me?” He touched the silverstone on its chain about her neck. “You wear my pendant.”

She caught her breath. No apparition would recognize a pendant. “I thought you died!”

“You thought
I
died?
What about you?
You vanished, swept away in the stream.” He paused, his hands flexing on her shoulders. “When I couldn’t find you, I was certain you’d drowned.”

“And I thought the welkes killed you and Dorann.”

A pained look crossed his face. “They might have, but they went after the welke we bloodied first. Not a pretty sight. Dorann and I just had time to escape. We followed you into the stream. We weren’t far behind, but you disappeared.”