The Castle Of Hape. Caves Of Fire And Ice. The Joining Of The Stone

She jerked the gold cord away, and clutching the stone, she ran the length of the citadel to the portal and to the balcony there. The mare who waited ducked her head as Meatha leaped astride digging in her heels, then the winged creature swept out into the wind, lifting, banking across the heavy wind to turn westward, coming back over the land; but coming too slowly, hesitating now, reluctant. And Meatha in turn, at the mare’s reluctance, began again to grow hesitant.

Dracvadrig eased the girl’s mind, soothed her, brought her on toward Pelli artfully until at last she crouched between the mare’s wings complacent in her righteousness, lulled by the knowledge that she alone would save Ere. She urged the mare on with authority, pressed her on in spite of the mare’s stubbornness. And as Dracvadrig lured the girl, he began at the same time to circle Aybil’s dark tower. The stone was theirs now. Soon they would have the second stone. Soon all of Ere would lie at their feet. Already Zandour was done for, and next Pelli would fall, then Farr, Aybil, Sangur. And then—then they would destroy Carriol, with greatest pleasure.

Dracvadrig came down atop the broken tower. His reaching feet knocked away broken stone walls so stone tumbled and clattered onto the old iron bed in the top room of the tower, open now to the sky. More stone fell into the black lake from which the tower rose. Along the shore of the lake, the cults slept peacefully.

*

Zephy and Thorn, restless, shaken by the vision of Zandour, slept at last, but for what seemed only moments before the winged ones near camp spoke to them. Thorn felt Zephy stir. He rose and lit the lamp. She stared up at him vaguely, her brown eyes huge with sleep, then roused herself and sat up. She had been dreaming of Meatha. She shared the disturbing vision with him, but it fled quickly before the urgent voices of the winged ones. The dragon comes. The warrior queen comes. The dragon sits atop the tower like a buzzard, the dragon that killed our brothers.

They Saw the dragon hunched atop the tower. It must wait until dawn. Thorn said. I would battle it in daylight, not in darkness. Even with the Seeing, not in darkness.

Yes, the winged ones said, it will sleep now. See, it is turning itself back into a man. It will lie with the woman there, and we will keep watch.

Zephy let the vision of the dragon go. She felt the more urgent vision was with Meatha. She let it flood her mind once more. Thorn felt her distress, took her hand, and sat calmly and silently sorting until at last he had joined her in the vision, knew her alarm as she watched the mare Michennann wing through the night sky, heading straight for Pelli, Meatha sitting straight and tense between her beating wings. “What is she . . .” Zephy began. “What does she carry? What . . . ?”

“The stone!” Thorn said with sudden conviction, gripping her hand so tightly she winced. “Zephy, she has the stone, she has taken it from the citadel.”

“The runestone? But she can’t, she—”

He stood up and hung the lamp from the tentpole. Light caught across his red hair, across his bare chest. He looked down at her, still scowling with disbelief and anger.

“The master Seer would never let her,” she said stupidly. “Never send one alone . . .” She did not want to believe what he was telling her. She looked up at him until at last she had to believe. She tried to touch Meatha’s mind and to know Meatha’s intent.

She could sense great calmness from Meatha, a sense of lightness, a sure, purposeful feeling that what she was doing was necessary and right, was essential to the salvation of Ere. She Saw truth in Meatha’s purpose: She knew well enough that the master Seers would never let the stone leave Carriol—knew in this moment so close with Meatha, that to carry the stone into battle, to wield it in battle, as Ramad of the wolves had once done, and with it vanquish the Kubalese troops and their dark companions, might be the only sure way to stop the slaughter and to destroy Kubal. She felt uneasy at the theft of the stone, but she felt with Meatha the urgency and lightness, too. She looked up at Thorn. He was watching her intently. They must trust Meatha for a little while, bear with her for a little while. Give her fair chance, not withhold their trust from her. Not yet.