The dragon shrieked its fury and broke away, to head out to sea; she turned and came back. Everyone was on the floor but Daine. She stood on the wall, scant inches between her toes and empty air, awed by the glory before her. Scarlet wings and scales glittered like rubies along that long and graceful form. The wings, fashioned like a bat’s, were huge, delicate structures of deep red, lit from within by silver bones. As the dragon passed inches over her head, almost knocking her onto the deck, she could see orange and yellow scales decorating the great creature’s belly. Like the Stormwings, her claws and teeth were silver, but not the hard silver of metal.
Her song almost deafened the girl. She struggled to force the notes into a form she could understand, until she heard: —Kidnappers! Filthy kidnappers! Rend them, take the raven-haired one to a cage on the ships!—
Daine shook her aching head. What was she hearing?
The dragon came in low and almost seized Thayet before having to reverse her flight. —Bring me here? You will send me home with your human tricks!—
The girl closed her eyes. What tricks? she shouted with her magic, as loudly as she could. Tahoi yelped. Below the horses screamed, their delicate ears in pain.
The dragon came in again and yanked the sword from Josua’s fist. The man was flung to the stone, where he lay stunned.
“Stop!” Daine yelled. “Stop! What kidnappers? What lies?”
The dragon was coming again. —Send me home! I demand it!—
Numair threw fire at her, fire that settled on her like a cloak and blew away. The long head twisted around to focus on him. —Human mage, you will pay for stealing me!—
Daine threw herself at Numair and knocked him down. The long shadow fell over them, and stayed. The stone beneath them quivered. Somewhere distant a number of people screamed.
The deck was sixty feet across. The dragon had taken twenty of those feet for her person, forefeet to hind legs, and cluttered a good twenty feet more with her tail and wings. Everyone but Daine and Numair, between her forepaws, was pressed to the wall or had made it to the stairs.
Daine jumped to her feet and raised her hands. I think I have the knack of it now, she thought, or please Goddess I hope I do. . . . Putting her hands on that scarlet breast, she called, —Listen, wing-sister!—
Information flooded into her mind as the dragon let out an ear-rending screech. Daine’s nose began to bleed; the intensity of her contact with the dragon’s mind had overloaded her body’s limits.
—Who speaks?—
Daine drew a breath, forcing her heart and lungs to slow down. —Me.—
—Joking.— Disbelief was loud in the dragon’s mind and in hers.
—No joke,— Daine said. —What did they tell you, the red robes on the ships?—
Why did she feel as if she were healing something? A quick look inside showed her copper fire streaming through her hands, being pulled out of her and into the dragon. When she tugged, she realized she couldn’t yank away. Her palms were locked against the dragon’s scales.
The dragon was hesitant now. —They say—they say, raven-haired one and her kits stole me from home, brought me here to destroy boats.—
—Can’t you smell a lie?— Daine asked. She was getting a sense of the mind behind the huge, catlike eyes. This dragon was not much older than a human of Miri’s age, say, and very frightened: panic-stricken, in fact.
—Only smell on red robes was Eaters.— The Stormwings were vivid in the dragon’s mind.
—They brought you, the robes. They brought you with the Eaters.—
—Do not understand . . .— The dragon was confused and scared. She was quivering under Daine’s hands. —Tired. Sick. Little one . . .—
Daine felt the dragon’s hide ripple. It was like a convulsion—or a contraction! Ma’s daughter realized.
—You’re having a baby!— she cried.
Suddenly the dragon’s mind filled with a hot excitement that shattered Daine’s magical hearing. Her hands dropped free of the dragon, and she clapped them to her ears.
The dragon screeched and launched herself into the air. Before Daine realized she was leaving, she had gone, flying north along the cliffs. Her image blurred, then vanished.
She can do magic, the girl realized with awe.
Numair got to his feet and jerked her into his arms. “You little idiot,” he whispered, hugging her so tightly she squeaked.
“She was in labor and on her way home,” Daine told him, feeling mashed. “They opened the gate nearby, and it pulled her in. I think it killed her baby. Maybe it would’ve killed her—but it was just what you said, the wild magic was just sucked right out of me, so I think she’s healing. And she’s been educated, Numair, from books! Her mind—it’s all organized, like you’ve been after me to do—”
Around them the others were coming forward. In Josua’s and the guards’ eyes she saw an emotion that looked like fear.
Someone ran up to the deck—Farant. “Master Numair? The healers are asking if something’s wrong. If you don’t shield them now, we’ll lose Sarge.”
“Oh no,” Thayet whispered.
Numair released Daine and sat against the wall once more. His eyes closed, and the quality of air around him changed.
Daine decided she might like to sit down for a while herself. Her legs folded before she told them to, and she never remembered hitting the ground.
TEN
LISTENING FAR ENOUGH
Someone had carried her below and put her on a cot in what she realized was the baron’s study. Tahoi lay nearby, worried; a couple of the bats clung discreetly to the hangings. The osprey—missing an eye, but miraculously alive—sat on the perch, letting Onua feed him raw fish. Daine sat up. Her head pounded worse than ever, and she felt her stomach heave. “I think I’m going to be sick,” she whispered.
Onua got a basin to her just in time. “What’s the matter?” she asked when Daine finished vomiting. “Was it the dragon?”
“No,” she croaked. “How long’ve I been out?”
“Not too long. It’s just after sunset.”
Looking at her shirt, Daine saw it was a gory mess. “What happened?”
“You had a nosebleed. What’s wrong with your head? Can you tell?” Onua smoothed her hair. “It’s important. You’re important.”
They knew she was awake and their struggle to get free increased. She didn’t even know she’d stopped answering the K’mir until coolness entered her veins, driving back the hot fire of the headache. She opened her eyes. Kally held one of her hands, Thom another. The coolness had been theirs.
“Hello,” she said. Her voice sounded like a rusty gate. “Thank you.”
“You’re wearing yourself out.” Maude stood behind the children, looking stern. “You have to let some spells go. I know your magic is different, but your body’s just like anybody else’s. You’re doing too much. Release some of your spells, or we can’t answer for the consequences.”
Daine looked at Onua as the old woman steered Kally and Thom out. “Easy for her to say,” she muttered when the door was safely closed.
Onua brought over a tray of food and put it on the table beside her cot. “Eat. What magic do you have going, anyway?”
Hotcakes, drenched in butter and syrup, fruit juice, hot cocoa. The sugar cleared her head as she ate. “I can’t let them fight,” she said, her mouth full.
“Let who fight?” Onua scratched Tahoi’s ears, and patiently allowed the bats to settle on her shoulders as they listened to Daine.
There was cold water, to cut the sweetness. She drank half a tankard in a gulp. “Them.” She waved her fork in the direction of the woods outside the castle. “The wild creatures—they won’t let me be. They want to fight the raiders—they’ve been wanting to all day.”
Onua moved her fingers to Tahoi’s spine, and the great dog sighed. “I don’t understand. Is it so bad if they fight? It’s their home too.”
Daine glared at her. “They’ll get killed! Th
ey’re animals. It’s not for them to get tangled in human stupidness!”
“You won’t like any of that,” Onua told the bat that sniffed the tray. To the girl she said, “It seems to me we tangle them in our stupidity all the time. At least if you tell them how to fight, they have a chance.”
Daine got up and paced. “You don’t understand! Once I meet them or talk to them, I know them. They’re my friends; they’re part of me. When they get hurt and die, it hurts me.” She pounded her chest to make her point.
“You think it doesn’t hurt me, when one of my horses dies?”
Daine blushed, embarrassed. “I forgot. I’m sorry.”
The older woman sighed. “We share this world, Daine. We can’t hold apart from each other—humans and animals are meant to be partners. Aren’t we, Tahoi?” The dog wagged his tail. “He knows. He saved my life, when my husband left me to die. I’ve saved his life since. He can’t cook or sing, and I can’t chase rabbits, but we’re partners all the same. The Riders’ ponies are full partners with their master. They have to be, and that’s what I train them to be, so everyone has a better chance of surviving.
“The Swoop’s animals are in the same trap we are. Men broke into their homes, killed their families, threatened you—and you won’t let them do anything for fear you’ll be hurt. That’s selfish. How would you like it if I took your bow and said I cared too much about you to let you fight?”
Daine winced. “I see your point.”
“You’ve made your friends helpless, just like bandits made you helpless when they killed your family. Of course the animals fight you.” Onua sighed. “We have no choice in being hunted—not animals, not humans. That’s how the world is. The choice we do have is to take it—or fight. Why don’t you show them how not to get killed, and let them decide?” She studied her nails and added, “I’ll be honest with you. We need all the help we can get.”
Daine went to the window, fingering her badger’s claw. I know what she means, she realized. They’ll start with the catapults in the morning and smash our walls. Then they’ll come take Thayet and the children if they’re alive. And the rest—Thom, the twins, Gimpy and Cloud and Mangle . . .
There’s got to be something my friends can do to help.
Suddenly she remembered a talk she’d heard Buri give the trainees. “If your numbers are small—a Rider Group, say—it’s idiotic to attack face-on when the enemy has superior numbers. But, enemies are only men, and men scare easy. Use booby traps: snares, pits covered with branches, pebbles strewn across the road to cripple them and their mounts. Foul their water sources. Sneak into camp and ruin their food, if you can. Keep up a racket all night so nobody gets any rest, and you’ve got the sentries shooting at ghosts. Do they buy or steal food from the locals? Make sure the food they get their mitts on is moldy, stale, or wet.
“An enemy that’s tired, ill fed, and scared is an enemy who’s half beat.”
We could do that, Daine thought now. If the soldiers here on land are crippled, Thayet and everybody else might be able to fight their way through and escape before the ships get their warriors to the castle.
Closing her eyes, she opened her mind to the extent of her range. The countless animals in the woods around Pirate’s Swoop began to clamor. They wanted her to release them. They wanted to tear, and gnaw, and leap—
Quiet! she yelled.
They obeyed.
She reached first for minks, weasels, and martens—clever, small animals with sharp claws and teeth. They were quick to grasp the images of leather wrappings, rope, and bowstrings. They must not be seen, she said over and over, with all her will behind it; they mustn’t be caught. She pressed the image of bows, knives, and swords into their minds, until they knew to run or hide if they saw a human with a weapon in his hand.
Bears, wild boars, and woodchucks went after supplies, once she’d made them promise to run at any signs of human attack. She left them pulling apart sacks and boxes of grain, cheese, salted meat, and vegetables. Shrews and voles offered to take care of the tea and coffee supplies. If there was an edible or drinkable scrap in the camp by morning, she would be surprised.
Foxes she asked to free the picketed horses and mules. Once she had explained things, the strangers’ mounts were happy to leave their masters and run for the woods. Some of the enemy’s mules, once they were freed, came back to give water barrels a kick or a roll downhill. Owls and bats volunteered to keep the guards busy. Sentry after sentry had the unpleasant experience of an owl dropping on him silently from above, or of a bat flying directly into his face. Raccoons walked away with arrows and knives. Wolves howled on the fringes of the camp, to be answered by wildcats of all sizes.
Gods go with all of you, she thought sadly, and broke off the contact.
The room was empty. Surprisingly, it hadn’t taken long to muster her army at all: the candle that marked the time had burned down one hour’s mark and half of another. I guess it’s easier to get them to do what they want than it is keeping them from doing it, she thought.
Please Goddess, don’t let my friends be hurt.
She put on the clean clothes that lay on the cot, and let herself out.
Numair was right down the hall, in a room filled with books. The skin around his face was slack and gray; his nose thrust out like the prow of a sinking ship. His crisp mane was matted with sweat, his face drenched with it. Checking the water jug on the table beside him, she saw it was empty. She went back and brought her own water to him. This time, when she came in, his eyes were open. They were dull and tired.
“Thanks,” he whispered as she poured water for him. His hands shook when she gave him the tankard.
“Wait.” She supported his head and shoulders, steadying his grip on the tankard with her free hand. “You’re still keeping those dampeners off?”
He nodded as he drank, and gasped when he was done.
It hurt to talk casually when he looked half-dead. You won’t help him if you turn into a baby, she told herself sternly. “Can I get you some food?”
“I’ll just throw up.” He smiled. “How do you like your first siege?”
“That’s very funny,” she told him sourly. I’m so glad you’ve hung on to your sense of humor. Only think how scared I’d be if you hadn’t.”
He closed his eyes and smiled. “That’s my magelet.”
“Can’t you let up awhile?”
He shook his head. “The healers. They’re still going. Daine—this afternoon. You said the dragon can think? It’s educated?”
“She. She’s educated. Even the griffins are like my animals, with all that’s in their heads jumbled together higgledy-piggledy. Not her. She’s read things in scrolls—I saw them in her mind.”
“Amazing,” he whispered. “I’d heard stories—just never believed them.”
“What stories?”
“They’re mages. Well, we saw that. She came right up on us. Even you didn’t hear her until she was close. And she vanished. Do you hear her now?”
Daine listened, hard. “No, sir. But like you said—I didn’t hear her until the last.” She pulled off his boots and put a cushion under his feet. More cushions went behind his head. She noticed that he still clung to the toy Thom had put in his hand. “There’s got to be something else I can try. I let the land animals go. They’ll do some damage. There’s not enough creatures on the ships to work with, though. It’s mostly rats out there. I can’t work with rats. I’ve tried, but they don’t even want to listen to me.”
“Whales? Ask them to swim up under the barges—capsize them. The catapults are the biggest danger. Then the red robes on the galleys.”
She thought it over. “If whales’re out there, I can’t hear ’em. They’re not in range.” She chewed on a thumbnail until he knocked her hand away. “I’m fair tired too. The dragon sucked me almost dry.” This time she didn’t even get the thumbnail to her mouth before he grabbed her wrist. “Pity I can’t reach the sea. If there’s a cold spot in
the cellars—”
“Find George. He’ll figure out a way to get you to the water.”
She saw another danger. “What if the mages on the ships catch me?”
“It’s a risk, but you stand a better chance than anyone with the Gift. Only a very few can detect wild magic. It’s a skill mages in Carthak are discouraged from acquiring. Remember, they think it’s old wives’ tales. If someone out there could sense it, he’d have a difficult time convincing the others. If you’re detected, you can escape among the seals and sea lions.” He sighed. “I know it’s dangerous, and I hate to drive you this way, but—we need a miracle. I’m hoping you can come up with one.”
She got up. “Wish me luck.” She hesitated, then kissed his cheek.
He gave her a feeble hug. “Luck, magelet.”
Daine looked down the length of rock at the castle’s rear. George and Evin stood by with ropes and a sling. “You sent folk down this way before?”
“It’s a better ride than it looks,” the baron assured her. “They won’t see you from the water, because you’re goin’ down a rock chimney. When you return, just get in the sling and give the rope three big tugs”— he showed her what he meant—“and three little tugs. I’ll have someone I trust on watch here for you. Got it?”
She nodded and fitted herself into the rope sling between the two men. “Good thing I grew up in the mountains and I’m not afraid of heights,” she said with false cheerfulness, easing herself out over the edge of the wall. “I told you this is a long shot, didn’t I?”
“Several times,” the baron assured her. “Don’t worry, I’m expert in long shots, youngling. Been takin’ them all my life.”
“What will you do for light?” asked Evin.
She looked at him in surprise. “I don’t need any. There’s the moon, after all. And I see well in the dark.”
George nodded. “Try to be topside when the fun starts in the mornin’.”
She smiled up at him. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”