3 When Darkness Falls.8 (72 page)

Every now and again he glanced over at Cilarnen's wagon. It seemed to glow faintly, though there was no actual light showing.

"You'll wear yourself out with all that staring," Shalkan told him.

The closeness of the Demons affected everyone. It was as if Their mere presence was a beacon, radiating despair. But the unicorns, of course, were the hardest hit by Their nearness. Shalkan's fur twitched constantly, as if invisible flies were stinging him, and his tufted tail was in constant motion, though he made no reference to the cause.

"I know," Kellen said, sighing. "I just wonder what he's doing."

"If you'd stayed in the City, you'd know, of course," the unicorn reminded him.

Kellen shuddered faintly, and not from the cold. Shalkan snickered, but his ears twitched, raising and flattening, as if he were trying to find relief from an itch he couldn't reach.

Cilarnen obviously adored the High Magick, every single finicking rule and regulation of it.

Kellen would rather be wrapped in chains and drowned.

"I can tell exactly what you're thinking, you know," Shalkan said.

"Is it that obvious?" Kellen asked ruefully. He was willing to endure more than usual of his friend's teasing tonight, if it could distract Shalkan from his own discomfort.

"Be glad that the requirements of Knight-Magery do not include concealing your feelings, or you'd never manage it."

"If it was something Master Belesharon wanted me to learn, believe me, I'd learn it," Kellen said feelingly. "I can
still
feel the bruises I got in the House of Sword and Shield."

He sighed again, and looked upward. The night was clear — the High Mage's weather-spells saw to that — and it almost seemed as if he could see the Starry Hunt riding across the sky. The air here swirled with Power, and not all of it was Dark. When they did face the Demon Army, they would have powerful allies.

But… powerful enough?

"Light blast and curse them all!"

Cilarnen came stamping down out of his Mage-wagon, wearing nothing but a thin woolen shift.

He regarded Kellen sourly — looking like the oldest and crankiest High Mage in all of Armethalieh — and continued across the camp — barefoot — to his tent.

When he emerged, several minutes later, he was dressed, but in no better humor. He accepted a mug of tea from Menerchel, and came over to Kellen.

"Nothing," he said succinctly.

"They weren't meeting?" Kellen asked.

"I mean I could see nothing," Cilarnen said. "Not even the surrounding countryside!" He drank tea, obviously extremely frustrated. "I don't think it's because
They
are doing anything to Shield
Themselves.
And I really hope
They
can't be shielding the City. I just think there's too much Power around. It makes it impossible to see. You'll have to hope Ancaladar can give you better information."

"You did all you could," Kellen said.

"What good is that if I couldn't do what you need?" Cilarnen demanded. He took a deep breath and drained his mug. "I need to go check my spellbooks. There are some other things I need to prepare for the morning."

"Charming company, High Mages," Shalkan said, when Cilarnen had gone.

"He's working too hard," Kellen said, as if that were something they didn't both already know. "He's trying to do the impossible. And he thinks it's his fault that the High Mages are all idiots. I don't think it's his fault."

"So you forgive him?" Shalkan asked. He raised a hind hoof, and set it down again, carefully.

"I never blamed him," Kellen said.

He was surprised to discover, when he said it, that it was the truth. And always had been.

* * * * *

ANCALADAR returned from his overflight of Armethalieh just before Kellen was about to go on watch. He and Jermayan had even more bad news.

The only good news Ancaladar brought was that he could — even now — see the Wards around the City.

They had been changed. Even if the army reached the City walls unopposed, it could never enter, even if the gates were opened to them.

The Wards now blocked the entry of Elves, Wildmages, Centaurs, Otherfolk… of all who rode with the Allied Army, only a few of the Mountainfolk and Wildlanders would be able to enter, and they would probably be killed by the City Guard and the Militia.

If the Allied Army actually reached the City, it would be trapped against its walls as if they were a high cliff.

And beyond Armethalieh was the sea.

* * * * *

THE army marched before first light. There was no time this morning for Cilarnen's practice — if the unicorns weren't ready now to do what he was going to ask of them, they never would be. Kellen only hoped they would be able to do what Cilarnen asked of them even with the Demon Army right in front of them. None of them had considered the effect the Demons would have on the unicorns.

Because no one has faced a Demon army in a thousand years. And no matter how good the records are that the Elves have kept of the Last War, information — vital information — has been lost.

Perhaps War Mages could have Shielded the unicorns.

If they'd had enough of them.

It was too late to worry about that now.

The only encouraging news — though it was more than a bit puzzling, and right now none of them was in a mood for mysteries — was that the Demon Army had not attacked in the night. Every mile they rode today would bring them closer to Armethalieh, and after a certain point, there would be no way the sounds and sight of a battle could fail to reach the attention of the High Mages — and, probably, everyone else inside the City, considering the tactics the Demons would undoubtedly use on the battlefield.

If it was still the Demons' intention to take Armethalieh through trickery and misdirection,
They
would not dare attack the Allied Army where the Armethaliehans had any chance of seeing the battle while the City Wards were even partially in place. If the High Mages, even cowed and befuddled as Cilarnen had reported them to be, figured out that there were
Demons
outside their walls, they would probably join forces even with Elves to fight
Them,
and that would put an end to the Demons' plans to subvert the City through deception.

* * * * *

"THEY'RE
gone!
"

Vestakia's scream was a wail of pure terror, rousing Idalia from an uneasy sleep inside the Healer's wagon. She'd been awake all night, ministering to the army with the senses-dampening cordial. She'd persuaded Vestakia to take an initial dose of the pure cordial — in the name of getting a few hours' sleep; Kellen was right about that — but after that Vestakia had refused to take any more. She was right about that, too.

"Vestakia? Who's gone?"

"
Them. Their
army. Idalia,
I can't sense
Them
anywhere.
"

Idalia was suddenly completely awake. "I'll go tell Redhelwar."

* * * * *

THEY had moved through the night, her pets, her children, her slaves. All of those who could not disguise their true nature she had sent to wait at the Place of Sacrifice, under the command of her son and lover. Tomorrow night she would make the Great Sacrifice that would rend the Veil forever.

In company of the rest of her Court — some in the form of humans, some in the form of horses — Savilla had ridden at last to the walls of her greatest prize. It was neatly within her grasp at last.

And before she had gone, she had done one last thing.

It was a powerful spell. It had required the sacrifice of all of the captives they had collected along their march. But for a few brief hours — as the Brightworlders reckoned time — their very essence would be masked from any who might sense them for what they truly were.

Time enough and more to take into her hands the last of her pawns and playing pieces.

* * * * *

"MY Lord Arch-Mage."

Lycaelon smiled. "You are very formal with me this morning, Anigrel."

"It is a day for the greatest of formality, Lord Arch-Mage, for it is a day that will change the future of Armethalieh forever. The delegation of the Enlightened has arrived. They await us outside the walls. Let us ride forth and escort them into the City."

He had spent last night in communion with his Dark Lady, preparing for this moment. She was very near now. Soon he would behold her face, flesh to flesh, for the first time in his life.

He would give her Lycaelon.

Then he would return to the City, alone, to tell the High Council that the Wildmages had captured and killed the Arch-Mage. He would tell them that an emergency Working must be done to strengthen the Wards upon the walls.

But he would not strengthen them. He would destroy them completely.

The time for subtlety was nearly past.

But just now, a little subtlety was still needed. Enough to overshadow Lycaelon's will, to convince the Arch-Mage that it was, indeed, a very good idea to ride out with Anigrel to meet these new allies…

* * * * *

IDALIA rode up to Redhelwar and Kellen. It was two hours before noon. The walls of Armethalieh were already visible in the distance.

"
They're
not going to attack," she heard Kellen saying, as she approached.

"In fact, Vestakia can't sense
Them
at all any longer all of a sudden," Idalia said. "Though somehow I doubt that
They've
left. And the dose of potion I gave her wore off hours ago."

"
They
haven't," Kellen said concisely. "Jermayan may not be able to speak from Ancaladar's back any longer, but he can still talk." He pointed up toward the sky where, high above, Ancaladar's black form circled. Intermittently, flashes of light appeared, as if Jermayan were holding… a mirror?

"Jermayan knows the mirror code," Kellen explained, "and here, where the skies are clear all day and the air is always calm, he can use it. I can't read it, but Dionan and Redhelwar can. Jermayan says that
They
have split the army. Most of
Them
are about twenty miles off in that direction — " He pointed.

Idalia groaned faintly. "That's about where I think the Delfier Shrine is. Too bad we couldn't afford to put part of the army on top of it to defend it."

"They'd have been slaughtered where they stood," Kellen said simply. "It's more important to take the City, and keep
Them
from getting
Their
hands on the Great Sacrifice — whatever it is — and taking it to the Shrine, than to try to hold the Shrine. Especially since that's something we couldn't do anyway."

"Kellen," Redhelwar said suddenly. "They're opening the City Gates."

In the distance, Kellen could just make out the Delfier Gates beginning to move. Not the Lesser Gates, the ones that were opened for the Farm Caravans — and to cast out Outlaws — but the Great Gates themselves, the ones that stood as high as the City Walls.

"They're going to ride outside the walls?" Kellen demanded in disbelief. "Somebody get Cilarnen."

* * * * *

BY the time Cilarnen had ridden to the top of the column, the gates were almost completely open. Cilarnen stared, as disbelieving of the sight as Kellen.

"The Great Gate hasn't been opened in… even Master Hendassar wasn't sure of the last time it had been opened," Cilarnen said in awe. "They must have seen us, and be planning to attack us. I think — I hope — I can Shield well enough to stop the first attack; once they recognize they're facing High Magick, they might break off," he added. But he didn't sound certain.

"And if Ancaladar makes a pass over them, their horses certainly won't stand."

"That's true enough," Kellen agreed. Fortunately, they didn't have to try to

figure out a way to tell Jermayan to try that. Jermayan had been trained in the House of Sword and Shield for far longer than Kellen had; if Cilarnen could think of something like that, certainly Jermayan would, too.

"Line halt. Skirimishers to the fore," Redhelwar said.

The horns echoed back down the column.

"Here they come," Cilarnen said nervously, as the first horses came through the gates — still miles away — at a slow walk. "City Militia. Wait. They're carrying the Arch-Mage's banner. I recognize House Tavadon's colors. And Lord Anigrel is with him — see the cadet pennon? They shouldn't be here."

"Oh, Gods of the Wild Magic," Idalia groaned. "Who symbolizes the Land in Armethalieh but the Arch-Mage of the City?
Lycaelon
is to be the Great Sacrifice! Anigrel must have told him some tale to convince him to come outside the walls where
They
could get at him!"

"Look," Kellen said, pointing. "There
They
are."