Barrenlands (The Changespell Saga) (31 page)

But not always, apparently.

"It might not work the first time," Sherran said, responding to Laine's doubt. "It's a matter of holding it with firm intent. Most of us have at least that much push when it comes to magic, and there's no doubt in my mind you'll have a bit more. You'll know when it works— you'll recognize the feeling."

She put a hand on his arm, and wove the other into the crook of Ehren's elbow as he held Shaffron's reins. Ehren watched her face— studied it— as she concentrated. She remained serene, the only sign of effort the tiny hold her teeth had on her lower lip. He barely noticed the cool wash of magic through his veins.

"That's what you'll be looking for," she told Laine, giving his arm a pat. "Don't lose the stone, or you'll be going home the long way around."

"I might, anyway, if I can't get it to work." But Laine's good-natured expression was back where it belonged. He turned back to his horse and tucked the stone away in the bottom of his saddlebag.

Ehren looked down at Sherran's hand, still hooked around his elbow. She dipped into her pocket again, taking his hand to press another stone into it. "And
you
— don't lose this. In case you should ever find a reason to return."

Ehren turned the stone over in his hand, his smile quiet. "I won't lose it."

They stood together a moment, until Ehren looked up to find Laine watching him with some surprise, and perhaps a little suspicion that he'd been left out of something important. Sherran released the hand that held the stone, and stepped away so Ehren could gather his reins and mount.

When Laine had done the same, she said, "The spell holds as long as you don't do anything to negate it. That's where most people get into trouble." She lifted one shoulder in a shrug— or an admission. "We all have some small bit of magic, some more than others. And while the Barrenlands don't bother beasts, even spelled travelers feel the oppression of it. To counter that, they often bring into play, all unthinking, what little bit of magic they might have." She put her hands on her hips and stared at them. "Don't."

"No fears," Laine said

She only frowned at him. "You, most of all. You'll feel the lack of your own magic, Laine—
don't reach for it
. My protection will withstand all from without— but it cannot stand what comes from within." When he winced, she nodded— satisfied, this time. "Guides grant you both safe journey."

"Guides grant," Ehren said, and turned from her as if it was no matter at all, slipping the stone into the small leather pouch hanging at Ricasso's withers.

Shaffron, while not affected by the Barrenlands as a whole, had some serious reservations about placing his feet on ground that changed color and texture so abruptly. They danced more than walked into the life-leached land, while Shaffron blew rolling snorts high in his nose and Ricasso alternately crowded their quarters and hung back.

"Boys," Ehren muttered at them, "you're not making a good impression."

Ehren heard Sherran laugh— and then the Barrenlands slid closed around him. The sound of her humor sliced away.

There was no breeze. No scent of green grass and moist ground and horseflesh. No bright glint of sunlight. Looking at the ground, Ehren would have sworn he saw the hoof prints from the last man to ride this way— and he somehow knew the signs of their own passage would remain until the next traveler obliterated them.

"Ehren?" said Laine from behind him, and Ehren twisted in the saddle to find Laine had crossed the border as well. Pale and practically reeling in the saddle, he clutched at his horse's mane, grabbing deep gulps of air.

Ehren stopped Shaffron and let Laine's horse draw up alongside before moving forward; as they walked, he leaned down and wrapped his hand around Laine's upper arm, digging his fingers in. "Ignore it," he said, his voice harsh. "Ride on and ignore it." To punctuate his command, he sent Shaffron into a fast trot, jarring Laine into something he'd have to concentrate on if he didn't want to bruise his bottom.

The horses exchanged repeated snorts of comment, little sneeze-like exclamations that told Ehren he'd gotten their attention as well. He kept them all moving, and when he looked back again— for Laine's smaller horse quickly lost ground— Laine looked less bereft and more annoyed.

"All right, you got me," he said, the second time Ehren looked back. "Can we stop now? That or canter!"

Ehren laughed and touched Shaffron's sides; the horse moved into a relaxed canter. Laine said, "
Thank
you," making it clear that all his sarcasm was still intact, if not his magics. They moved on through the desolate, oppressive land, and what dust stirred in their passage settled heavily to the ground.

Ehren took them down to a walk before Laine's Nimble grew tired; they had a long day of traveling through this place. Laine came alongside Shaffron. "This must be what the Hells are like."

"Those who stumble in here without protection don't come out again." Ehren didn't look too closely at their surroundings— not the dull rock or dead soil, or at the stark skeletons of scrubby transition foliage. "Foolish of me not to realize there was danger even with the T'ieran's sanction." He raked a gaze across Laine. "I take it you've got yourself under control?"

Laine made a face. "I'm trying not to fight it," he said. "It's... not easy."

"Try hard," Ehren said sharply. "Without protection, this place will take your sight, your hearing, the feel of your feet against the ground and the air against your face. Even two steps over the border, there's very little chance you'd find your way out again."

Laine, already pale, closed his eyes. "Sherran might have mentioned it."

"Would knowing have changed your mind?"

"No," Laine said, as if reluctant to admit it. "I guess not. And there's no way she could have
described
to me it's like to be cut off from my Sight. You don't feel any different?"

Different? Oh, yes. He felt...
dulled.
He thought that here, he wouldn't be able to count on the leaps of intuition and occasional preternaturally quick reaction that had, in the past, saved his life. But to Laine he said, "Nothing significant."

"Everything looks different. Not that I could tell you just
how
... just…something is missing. But Hells, this place makes
every
thing look a little brown, you and me included."

"The less time we spend in here, the better," Ehren said by way of agreement, and took up a gentle trot again.

They'd gone another two hours before Ehren dared to give them any kind of extensive break, but the horses were ready for it and so was his leg. Laine's face, he thought, still showed the tension of the Barrenlands pressing in on him. His eyes were distracted, and... elsewhere. "You doing all right?"

"Fine," Laine said, not taking any time to think about it. After another moment, he finally noticed Ehren's close scrutiny. "No, really. I'm not comfortable, but I'm all right. There's a difference. Besides, I was just thinking…" He looked around the featureless terrain, varied only slightly by barely rolling land. Ochre sky met brown earth so subtly it was hard to tell where one stopped and the other began. "Coming back through here alone won't be an easy thing."

"You can go around."

Laine made a face. "I've seen enough of that particular Trade Road." He considered Ehren a moment. "You've got a stone, too, right from Sherran's hand. And it looked to me like you'd be more than welcome back. Just how late did you two stay up together the other night?"

Ehren gave him a look meant to quell all such questions. "Late enough to make sure you children were sleeping safely."

"Ouch," Laine said, physically ducking both Ehren's words and his glare, but sneaking a grin in there as well. "Well, at least you discovered Therand had something worth your attention. Though I saw you looking pretty closely at the horses, too."

Ehren cantered away from him, and pretended he didn't hear Laine's laughter following.

~~~~~

Their humor faded quickly beneath the oppressive Barrenlands. By the time they saw Solvany on the horizon, Laine looked grim and worn, a man enduring what he had to.

Not as aggressively green as Therand, Solvany nonetheless appeared as a jewel against the dull, dead swath of land around them; its trees and undergrowth came up right against the sterile dirt and stopped short. Ehren and Laine crossed the line and eased to a halt, breathing in the odor of the foliage they'd just crushed, adjusting to the sounds of bird song and rustling tree branches and the brightness of the cloudy day.

"Much better," Laine said after a long moment and a huge sigh of relief. "I thought I understood about the Barrenlands, before— but now I
know
why that border has worked so well all these years."

"Even if you're protected, it's no easy obstacle." Ehren patted Shaffron's shoulder, pleased at the glint of flame that reclaimed its proper place in that bright chestnut coat, and dismounted. He stripped Shaffron's bridle off, and the horse quickly took advantage of the chance to wipe his sweat-itchy head against Ehren's shoulder, knocking him off balance.

"Quit," Ehren said sharply. "Your head is too bony for that." He slipped the halter on and left the lead rope trailing as he loosened the girth a notch; Ricasso already browsed on the leaves within his reach. By the time Laine finished haltering his own horse, Ehren stared pensively back into the Barrenlands.

"What?" asked Laine, in a voice that said he wasn't really sure he wanted to know.

"She said we'd be able to go back." Ehren still held Shaffron's bridle, and he hefted it thoughtfully.

Laine said pointedly, "If we
wanted
to."

"It'd be nice to know." Ehren walked up to the very edge of the green and brown border. Laine trailed him, his expression wary— and grown even more so when Ehren held out the bridle reins. "Take the ends. You can haul me out if I look stupefied."

Laine muttered something under his breath but accepted the reins, holding them tightly as Ehren turned back to the Barrenlands and walked right in.

It took a moment to realize he was holding his breath— and by then it was obvious he hadn't lost his ability to perceive the world. He didn't linger. "I take it I never looked quite stupefied enough."

Laine handed the reins back and cracked an unconvincing grin. "It was close."

Ehren merely harrumphed at him. He tied the bridle atop Shaffron's saddlebags and scouted briefly ahead, looking for any sign of a trail.

"What now?" Laine said, when Ehren returned, rubbing the leg that hadn't quite been up to all those hours of riding.

"Now give the horses a break. It's too close to nightfall to go far, but we'll ride another mile or so and hunt up some water. Starting tomorrow, we'll ride to Kurtane as fast as I can get us there." Ehren lowered himself to the ground and kneaded his upper thigh. After a moment, he eased back on the ground and stared up at the wispy layer of thin clouds.
Mares' tails. That means rain.
He hoped they found a good road before then. It could be days, depending on exactly where they'd emerged.

Meanwhile, he closed his eyes, intent on taking rest when he could get it...

Shaffron's snort sounded far away. Ehren's eyes snapped open and he knew instantly he'd been asleep. A short distance away, Laine stretched noisily.

"What's up?" Laine's voice was groggy still, but as Shaffron snorted again— and then Ricasso called out— Ehren found himself completely alert.

"Get up. Get your sword out and mount up. If we get into trouble, drop your mule. You can pick him up later."

"What are you
talking
about?" Laine asked, though Ehren heard him rising as he followed his own advice and hunted down his horses.

"Nothing, if we're lucky." With his sword against his leg to avoid catching the brush, Ehren followed the trail the boys had left. "Don't follow too close."

He could practically feel Laine's disgruntlement— but he did as Ehren said, and that was all that mattered.

Ehren found a game trail— and on it, two sets of shod hooves. He followed them at easy speed, and soon enough came upon Ricasso— and then, soon after, Shaffron. The edgy chestnut kept his ears riveted on the trail ahead, and Ehren bridled him with no-nonsense efficiency, tightening the girth. Laine was just in sight when he mounted up, and he waited until they were close enough to speak quietly. "Something's ahead— horse or mule, to judge by the boys' interest."

 "And man, no doubt," Laine concluded. "Well, that doesn't mean it's a problem. There's no way anyone could know where we are.
We
don't even know where we are. "

Ehren gave him a grin, one that bordered on the predatory. "The way things have gone for us, Laine, we'll assume it's a problem."

"When you put it that way…" Laine said ruefully. "But are we just…waiting?"

Unruffled, Ehren said, "Let them come to us. At least until I decide otherwise."

Thick, small trees studded the area around the narrow path; although they heard the sounds of several horses approaching, the newcomers came fairly close before they were clearly visible.

King's Guards.
Two of them. And although Ehren's first instinct was to relax, his second was
not
to. "Hold there," he called, and they eased to a stop in their own time.

"That's him, all right," one of the Guards said, and though his face looked vaguely familiar, Ehren couldn't put a name to it. The other man, he knew not at all.

"I'm surprised to see you here," Ehren said, not at all welcoming, "but it seems you expected
me
."

"You, if not him," the man replied with a nod. "You're to come with us."

Laine crowded Ehren from behind. "Is something wrong?"

"Back off," Ehren said between his teeth, aiming the words over his shoulder without taking his eyes from the men.

"What?" Laine at least had the discretion to keep his own voice low. "They're Guards, aren't they? What's wrong?"

Ehren backed Shaffron a few measured steps, and Ricasso followed suit behind him. When Laine caught sight of the big sturdy rump heading his way, he turned Nimble right around and circled— yanking the unhappy mule behind him and putting some distance between them. "Oh," Laine muttered loudly. "I get the idea now, thank you."