Fireshaper's Doom (19 page)

Liz looked hopelessly confused.

Regan laid a hand upon her shoulder. “It is what Nuada spoke of earlier as something that could never happen, yet now it has: something has snapped the thread that binds us to our homeland, the thread down which our Power flows. We had to return to the substance of this world, or face the Call that denied leads on to madness. We have a problem of our own now. But that does not mean we will not help you.”

Liz looked up at her. “But—”

Shouts from outside interrupted her. “I
will
go in,” a male voice snapped clearly. From his place by the door Lin jumped to his feet, but almost fell backward again as the curtained front was thrust open. A Faery youth stood there, looking more than a little dazed and angry. His hair was black and he wore a black silk cloak above a loose velvet tunic, from the heavy linked belt of which depended a sword hilted in gold and ivory.

“Froech!” Nuada cried, rising unsteadily to his feet. “What in the name of Dana brings you here?”

“I am too late, Lord. And I beg your forgiveness.”

“That may very well be true,” Nuada replied dryly. “But if I am to forgive you I must know your crime.”

“It is Ailill, Lord. He has escaped. His sister aided him, and it is believed he fled onto the Tracks, or else into this World. Lugh sent me to tell you this, and then, as I see you have discovered, he sealed the borders. One word only he had for you. And that was to seek Ailill in the Lands of Men, or if need be, through all the Worlds.” Nuada’s face went suddenly pale.
“Not Fionna!”
he cried. “And me with no more strength than a mortal. She is among the strongest of her folk; I would think twice about matching Power with her even were I in my own flesh!”

“But what does it mean that Lugh has sealed the borders?” Alec burst out. “How could anyone do that? I know he’s powerful, but—”

“The King is the Land,” Nuada replied tersely. “The Land is the King. He has built a wall, you see, a wall of arcane fire fueled by his own blood that surrounds Tir-Nan-Og, not only where it touches other lands, but where it touches other Worlds as well. We cannot go back now, for though we might follow the Tracks there, we could not get off them. The Walls between the Worlds, once clear, are now opaque and faced with fire.”

Froech interrupted. “Pardon, Lord, but Lugh’s command was for action, not talk.”

Nuada frowned. “I have known Lugh somewhat longer than you, boy.”

Chastened, Froech inclined his head slightly. “Aye, Lord.”

Uncle Dale levered himself up. “Now, what’s this? Somethin’ goin’ on we ought to know about?”

Froech’s gaze fell on the old man.
“
More
mortals, Silverhand? What is wrong with that one? Is it
age
?”

“It would seem we are all mortals here, Froech, except yourself, though it will not be long before the Call comes upon you. You would have served yourself better to have put on the stuff of this World.”

“It did not occur to me, Lord, while I was within Lugh’s realm, for I do not often visit other Worlds, and then but briefly. And by the time I was on the Tracks and did think of it, it was too late: the thread was severed. Lugh should have warned me of the sealing, at least. I—”

Nuada held up a quieting hand. “Enough, Froech. Perhaps it is fortunate that you kept Faery flesh, for that makes you the mightiest of us all, and we may need your Power later. We now have two problems to consider, though they are not necessarily things apart from one another: to seek David Sullivan, who has been stolen by someone evidently of Faery blood, and to seek Ailill Windmaster.”

“You are correct, Lord,” Regan said. “But I think it quite likely that the two might be bound together. Recall what young David told us only this afternoon about what he called the Crazy Deer.”

“Right!” Alec cried almost eagerly. “And if the Crazy Deer was Ailill, then we know where to find him, or where to start, anyway.” Nuada looked at him thoughtfully. “I have been wrong, Alec McLean, for not listening to you before; I thought in my folly that Ailill was beyond reach. But he too numbers some few friends, and his sister first among them. I have met Fionna nic Bobh, and she is not someone with whom I would choose to spend much time. Can you take us to where you saw this deer?”

“But you’re forgetting about David,” Liz almost screamed, as her control slipped away.

Katie tottered forward, setting her feet carefully among the scattered cushions and guttering candles. She took Liz in her arms. “No, child, they ain’t forgettin’. But it seems to Katie that if they find the one, there’s a good chance they’ll be findin’ the other.”

Liz nodded slowly, but buried her head in the old woman’s shoulder.

“So,” said Nuada, “here is what we should do: Froech, you and Cormac—”

Sirens split the night, pouring chills down the necks of the mortals and setting all eyes to darting furtively about.

“Christ, it’s the cops!” Gary shouted.

“Cops?”

“Huh?”

Liz looked up in consternation. “What would the cops be doing here?”

Alec stuck his head outside the tent. “Cops, all right,” he called softly. “Out by the gate.” He suppressed a giggle. “Looks like they’ve caught Darrell—can’t hardly tell for the kudzu.”

“He
was
coming by if the Tastee Freeze didn’t pan out,” Gary noted, as he joined his smaller friend at the front slit. “I’ve warned him about that blessed muffler of his.”

“Right,” Alec replied, “but if they find your cars, they might start to get other ideas. I know they don’t like having the Traders around, and this might just give ’em the excuse they’re looking for: corrupting minors, or something.” He looked around, embarrassed. “Sorry, Lin; but not everyone knows the truth. Folks up here can be mighty suspicious of outsiders.”

“Hey, Alec, I think a couple of ’em
are
coming this way.”

“Better do something quick,” Uncle Dale urged from behind them. “Won’t do us no good to get caught here.”

“Nor for them to find these folks—’specially Mr. Froech and them fancy clothes of his,” Lin added. “Don’t want anybody askin’ questions about
Them
.”

“Aye, yer right there,” Katie affirmed.

“We need a diversion,” said Nuada. “Froech, since the three of us are Powerless, could you cast a glamour?”

“What kind? In this land I am unaccustomed—”

“Never mind that stuff,” Lin said decisively, as he shouldered his way through the door slit. “You folks be gettin’ outta here. I’ll take care of the law—had years o’ practice at it. Come on, Katie, you wake the wagons; tell ’em it’s the burnin’ plan.”

As the others made their way outside, Liz saw the Trader chief run into the circle of tents and grab a smoking brand from the smoldering camp fire in the center.

“Fire! Fire!” he yelled, as he swung it thrice around his head to fan the flames, then tossed it atop one of the canvas roofs.

“Empty,” he confided to the startled Alec, who dogged his heels. “We make our numbers look greater by using lots o’ empty tents. Fire! Fire!” he cried again, almost gaily, as he torched another tent, then crammed a fist into his pocket and flung something toward the startled boy that jingled as it arched through the air. “Here’s the keys, boy. Open the gates; take the horses! Now! Take ’em and ride! We’ll hold here. Fire and fog be a fugitive’s friends, as my ol’ da used to say.”

The first two tents had already begun to send sparks shimmering into the sky as Lin fired a third. In the circle of wagons beyond them Katie was pounding on wooden half-doors with her cane, crying, “Get up! Get up!” at the top of her lungs.

The bitter smell of smoke began to thicken the air.

“Quick!” Nuada cried, waving an encompassing arm at all four mortals. “Better all of you are with us.”

More sirens then, and flashing blue lights out by the gate. Fire and smoke everywhere. Half-dressed men and women scrambled out of wagons, stared around in confusion, then joined the fray as realization dawned on them, and they began running hither and thither in contrived confusion, some heaving buckets of water on burning canvas even as others set more fires.

Liz could see figures moving around beyond the fence, too: blue-clad men pushing through the turnstile and sprinting across the grass toward them. And a boy who looked like Darrell. He fell; another helped him up. Something bumped her shoulder, and she glanced around, saw Froech beside her, already mounted on the horse he had posted beside Nuada’s tent.

And then, to her horror, the Faery youth leveled an outstretched arm at the blazing tents, then arced it around the whole campsite as though cracking an invisible whip. Flames followed that unseen wake, leaping from those already burning to embrace the remaining tents—and the deliberately untouched wagons beyond as well. Even the grass came alight as a wall of flame reared itself across half the enclosure, cutting off the approaching policemen.

“No, not our wagons!” somebody screamed.

“Fool of a boy,” Nuada cried furiously, as Froech’s horse brushed by him. “You have ruined these people’s lives!”

“They are only mortals, Lord—”

“And so am I—for now!” And with that he reached up and ripped an ornately jeweled boss from the edge of the boy’s saddle, which he tossed to the startled Lin.

“Ill guests have we been,” he said. “Maybe this will atone for the moment. I will settle the rest with you later.”

Lin bit the metal experimentally. ‘Ten times the damage it will pay,” the Trader said, grinning, “if this be what I think it is. Now will you folks
get?
Take the horses and go!”

“But what about Darrell?” Gary cried.

“We’ll look out for him—now move it, boy!”

“But you don’t even know him!”

“Get goin’, boy! All of you get goin’.”

A moment’s hard jog later they reached the paddock, which was on the northeast side of the enclosure and fairly well screened by the body of the camp. The fog was thicker there, as well: more concealing. Alec fumbled with the keys at the gate.

“No time for that,” Nuada called. Froech vaulted the low barrier, and the others followed as best they could.

Suddenly they were among horses, and the odor of straw and dung and horseflesh was strong in their noses. White eyes flashed wide, and ruddy nostrils flared like caverns. There was little time for choosing, no time for saddling or bridling.

An explosion split the night; spades of red and orange burned the stars.

“Quick, now!” Nuada cried, as he claimed a splendid black, even as Cormac climbed atop a long-limbed roan. “Get dark ones if you can, but look for the ones with the silver shoes, they come from Tir-Nan-Og; there is no time for other choice. You all can ride, can you not?”

“You’re asking the right feller the right question now.” Uncle Dale grinned. “Come on, Liz. You’re with me.”

The old man climbed with unexpected agility onto the back of a black mare nearly as large as the stallion Nuada had chosen, then bent down to give Liz an arm up behind.

Nuada raised startled eyebrows. “You ride bareback, Mortal?”

“Since I ’uz a boy!”

“Hurry, then.”

Another explosion, more fire. Red lights flashed down the hill from the direction of MacTyrie.”Somebody must have called the fire department already,” came Alec’s nervous giggle. “Bet Pa’s pissed.”

“Mine too.” Gary grinned. “Teach them to volunteer.”

“Yeah—” Alec’s words were cut off as Cormac grabbed him by the collar and physically set him on a horse behind the Faery lady, Regan. He twisted his fingers into her belt and held on grimly as the horse began to shift uneasily.

“Hey, wait for me!” cried the still-earthbound Gary.

“I’ll take him!” Cormac’s voice carried clear into the night.

Froech spun around in place, grabbed Gary under the armpit, and half flung the boy up behind the dark-haired Faerie.

Gary’s eyes caught Alec’s. “Here’s to adventure!”

Alec did not reply.

“Now!”
cried Silverhand. “Froech, whatever Power you still command, use it!”

Froech’s teeth flashed in a wild smile. He stretched a hand backward, fist clenched, then released it.

A ball of brilliant light took form among the already nervous horses. One spooked (one that wore iron shoes). And then they all were running—away from that arcane light, and through the gate someone had finally got open, heading through smoke and fog in the direction of the Traders’ camp. The ground seemed to shake beneath them.

And as the mass of horses poured into that chaos of flame and shouting, five other horses bearing eight riders gathered themselves and followed, but turned eastward into the night.

Liz, who rode behind Dale Sullivan, thought only of David. And of the image she had seen shadowed in Nuada’s mind before the pain began.

One final explosion sounded. Liz twisted around to look back, saw a bloom of fire take root in the sky, shooting tongues of red into the darkness: flames the exact shade of red as the vision-woman’s hair.

Chapter XVI: Pursuit

(Tir-Nan-Og)

Fionna was mostly the fox now, for the fox knew the business of survival far better than the woman ever could. And survival was what it had finally come down to—that and running, which were very much the same at the moment.