Destiny

For once she was happy to do just as he said. Soldiers called for her from elsewhere in the enclosure, and she left Porthios to go to them.

The warriors showed her discarded cheesecloth bags. The bags once had held haunches of meat. Kerian ordered the soldiers to scour the cache. “Look for footprints, handprints on the containers, anything unusual,” she advised. She did not mention the apparition that she and Porthios had seen. Specters did not steal meat.

While the soldiers searched, she examined the bags more carefully. They weren’t torn and the neck of each bag was still tied, the wax seal on the knot unbroken.

The soldiers found no traces of any intruder. Carefully folding the empty cheesecloth bags, Kerian tucked them into her sword belt. Her sun-browned face wore a grim expression.

There seemed no doubt their losses of food were due to the valley’s weird influence. Mere theft or hoarding couldn’t explain the sealed, empty bags. She must tell Gilthas. His plan to cross Lioness Creek and take possession of the valley would have to wait.

* * * * *

The eastern half of the valley stayed light a little longer than the west because of the shadows cast by the western mountains. As the sun slipped below the peaks, two elves walked through waist-high marlberry and olive bushes toward the eastern side. The elder was a Qualinesti, his body haggard and thin from long privation. Favaronas, formerly the archivist of the Speaker’s library in Qualinost, was unaccustomed to such strenuous exercise.

“Less haste, if you please,” he gasped.

His companion, a Kagonesti years younger, halted only briefly. He sported hunter’s togs and hair closely cropped after the fashion of some humans.

Robien the Tireless was a bounty hunter hired by Sahim-Khan to capture Faeterus, a mage formerly employed by Sahim. After years of service to the khan, Faeterus suddenly abandoned Khuri-Khan and had caused Sahim no small amount of trouble before leaving, Sahim-Khan was not a forgiving man. Robien’s charge was to find the rogue sorcerer and return him to Khuri-Khan to face his former master’s wrath. He said, “I want to find open ground before nightfall. I don’t want those lights popping out of the brush so close we can’t avoid them.”

He was right. Favaronas had been in Robien’s company only a short time but had come to realize Robien usually was right. Exhausted, perpetually fearful, Favaronas did not find it an endearing trait.

Favaronas had encountered the hunter after a chance meeting with Faeterus back at Lioness Creek. Desperate for aid and ignorant of Faeterus’s identity, the archivist had agreed to work with him in trying to fathom the valley’s secrets. Once Robien revealed what he knew of the magician’s past crimes in Khuri-Khan, Favaronas found himself caught between the two, wishing to confide all in Robien, but cowed by Faeterus’s threats. The hapless scholar did what he could to aid Robien’s quest, never at all certain the Kagonesti was capable of capturing the sorcerer before Faeterus destroyed them both.

Robien pushed on, breaking trail for Favaronas. It was heavy going. Marlberry branches were slick but clinging. They constantly wound around Favaronas’s ankles and threatened to trip him. Olive bushes, not to be confused with the noble olive tree, had spiky leaves that seemed determined to poke out his eyes. Favaronas’s hands and face were streaked with tiny cuts. He could hardly credit Robien’s assurance that their prey had passed this way. Faeterus was a mysterious sorcerer, but hardly a vigorous person. Far older than Favaronas and burdened by the heavy robes he wore, how could he have traversed such a terrible thicket?

Robien pointed to faint marks on the highest branches. “He walked up here.”

Favaronas squinted at the marks, barely visible to him even once he knew where to look. The sorcerer had walked on top of the brush? Swallowing hard, Favaronas the inveterately curious decided that knowing a thing was sometimes far more unsettling than not knowing it.

Their shadows stretched farther and farther in front of them as they traveled. Based on the archivist’s theory that Faeterus was seeking a high spot from which to oversee the entire valley, Robien had deduced that a peak called Mount Rakaris was his goal. The trail did seem to be leading directly there. Favaronas believed the valley’s monoliths weren’t the remains of a long-deserted city, but formed some sort of map or sigil. Viewed as a whole, from a high vantage, their meaning would become plain to Faeterus, allowing him to tap into the hidden power of Inath-Wakenti. What form that power might take, Favaronas did not know, but he was certain Faeterus must not be allowed access to it.

Not until the last sliver of sun was slipping behind the mountains did Robien at last take pity on the struggling Favaronas and consent to make camp. At the archivist’s urging, they diverted to a clearing dominated by a trio of standing stones.