Triplet (27 page)

“Oddly enough, it was, though totally accidentally. My horse is tethered over behind the trees there—are your legs doing any better?”

“I should be able to walk in a minute or two.” Danae clenched her teeth and threw him a sideways glance. “I never thought I'd live to say this … but I'm sure as hell glad to see you.”

A slight smile creased Hart's face. “I'm glad I was here when you needed me, Ms. mal ce Taeger,” he said.

“I
'LL TELL YOU ONE
thing—Andresson damn well
better
be in trouble,” Nordis growled. “If he's just off sight-seeing somewhere I'll skin him alive.”

“Shut up and keep your eyes open,” Melentha snapped. “If you'd handled this right in the first place, the trail wouldn't have had time to get this cold.”

Nordis subsided, and in the darkness Ravagin grimaced. Nordis was an old hand, with nearly ten years of service to the Corps on his file. Professional pride was probably behind his time-consuming efforts to locate Andresson by himself instead of immediately sending a message to the way house—pride, and maybe more than a little conceit. Still, there was no call for Melentha to jump all over him about it.

But then, Nordis had no idea of how his unexpected appearance had fouled up Melentha's plans.

They were in sight of Besak's lar now—or, rather, in sight of the place where the lar should have been visible. Ravagin felt his hands clench around the reins at the sheer
power
the lar's destruction implied. Could Melentha have done all that herself? If so, then any plan he could possibly come up with to escape with Danae was so much wasted effort.

Perhaps there was a way to find out. “Tell me, Melentha,” he called across to her, “if someone wanted to take out a lar of this size, how would he or she go about doing so?”

“Hold it a second,” she said shortly as a pair of sprites shot across the landscape and came to a hovering halt in front of her. She held a brief and inaudible conversation with them, and a minute later they flitted off again. “No sign of anyone on the Besak-Findral road,” she reported. “What was the question again?”

“I was asking how you'd go about destroying Besak's lar.”

“Afraid you'd have to ask someone with a little more spirit knowledge,” she replied calmly. “Gartanis, for instance.”

“Same thing I told Andresson when
he
asked that question,” Nordis commented. “I've never seen a client nag your leg off with questions like that.”

“You
told
him about Gartanis?” Ravagin frowned. “Maybe that's where he went, then.”

“Give me a
little
credit, will you, Ravagin?” the other said. “That was the first place I checked.”

Unless Gartanis had lied about Andresson's presence there … but why would he bother? “What exactly was Andresson's field of study?” he asked instead. “If he wandered off on his own, it might give us a clue as to where he might be.”

“He didn't have one,” Nordis snorted. “He was a tourist, here to see the sights. If you can believe that.”

“What in the world does Besak have in the way of sights?” Ravagin frowned.

“Damned if I know,” Nordis said frankly. “Or Torralane Village, either, for that matter. That's where we started this trip—we only came down yesterday.”

“You were here
yesterday
?” Melentha put in. “Why the hell didn't you check in then?”

“He didn't want to,” Nordis told her. “Said he wanted to live native-style, not in some transplanted part of the Twenty Worlds.”

“You're not supposed to let
clients
dictate safety rules to you,” Melentha snapped.

“Listen, Melentha, when we find him,
you
can try arguing with him,” Nordis shot back. “This guy gets what he wants, and you get bowled over if you get in his way.”

“He sounds like one of those rich fools who've inherited all their money and can't find enough useful ways to spend it,” Ravagin suggested.

“Probably is,” Nordis agreed. “Then again, maybe he just thought he was being polite. We found out in town that you and your client were already staying at the way house, and he was pretty adamant about not wanting to intrude.”

“Did you bother to explain to him how big the house is?” Melentha growled.

Nordis said something in reply … but Ravagin didn't hear it. A rich man playing tourist … who didn't seem afraid to stray from his host even in the dead of a Karyx night …

And who didn't want to run into Ravagin and Danae.

Hart.

And in the space of a few seconds the whole mess had abruptly been turned on its head. The bodyguard hired by Cowan mal ce Taeger of Arcadia to protect his daughter would hardly have gotten lost or even kidnapped. Somehow, for some reason, he'd deliberately deserted his Courier.

Of course. Hart knew about Gartanis … and Gartanis knew about Danae.

Beyond Nordis, three more sprites had converged on Melentha. Biting at his lip, Ravagin eased his horse into a slightly diverging path from that of the others. There was no time for any further questioning of Nordis; no time to consider the chances that his hunch was correct, or to consider what might happen if he was wrong. If there was even a chance that Hart was at the way house trying to get Danae out, it was absolutely vital that someone keep Melentha's attention occupied out here where she'd be out of the fight. And that someone had to be him.

A flicker of glow-fire appeared beside him. “You are the human named Ravagin?” the sprite asked.

“Yes,” Ravagin nodded, frowning. He'd assumed that Melentha would make sure all the searching sprites would report directly to her—

“I bring a message: Danae tells you she has left.”

Ravagin's heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean,
left
?” He threw a glance over at Melentha—

Just in time to see the green of a demon's parasite spirit vanish into her.

And the balloon had just gone up for good. Without a second's hesitation, Ravagin twisted his horse's head hard to the side—

And jerked in his saddle as an unearthly shriek split the air.

“
Man-sy-hae orolontis!
” he snapped—and an instant later a dozen green parasite spirits burst from nowhere to break like a tidal wave over him.

Beneath him, the horse whinnied and reared. Ravagin tugged hard on the reins, struggling to get the animal under control and to get the hell away from there. The spirit-protection spell he'd set up wouldn't last a minute under the kind of furious assault it was getting; less time even than that if Melentha was willing to reveal her possession to Nordis by sending her demon to take a direct hand in the fray.

Melentha.

She was, Ravagin realized, his best—possibly his only—chance. “
Sa-trahist rassh!
” he shouted against the green flashes buzzing like angry insects around him. “
Sa-trahist rassh, sa-trahist rassh, sa-trahist rassh!
”

And between him and Melentha four firebrats burst into flame.

Nordis shouted something, but his expletive was swallowed by another shriek from Melentha. Shifting to a one-hand grip on the reins, Ravagin waved the other hand toward Melentha in a placement gesture. “
Haklismeen-taetre!
” he called. “
Sudamentra markreforex pinchaila!
”

Beyond the flames, he caught just a hint of red as the invoked djinn responded to the fractional-possession spell and vanished into Melentha's horse. The animal reared in violent reaction to the spirit's sudden presence, and abruptly Melentha's scream took on a startled note. “
Sa-khe-khe fawkh!
” Ravagin called, making the same placement gesture—

And the horse twisted and fought for footing as the nixie's fountain of water erupted beneath it.

Almost enough.
The swarm of parasite spirits was deserting Ravagin now, converging on Melentha to help fight off the zoo he'd thrown at her before their relatively fragile human link with the physical world could be hurt. For the moment, at least, the unstoppable demon within her had his hands full elsewhere … and it was time for Ravagin to make a break for it. “
Sa-doora-na, sa-doora-na, sa-doora-na, sa-doora-na, sa-doora-na,
” he called.

And with his five invoked doppelgangers each heading in a different direction, he twisted the horse's reins around and kicked the animal into full gallop back toward the west.

He was free. At least for the moment.

The tree above Danae swayed slightly under its burden, sending a handful of leaves fluttering down around her. Her horse snorted gently, and she patted its neck in reassurance. “Anything happening?” she called softly up into the tree.

“The flames seem to be dying,” Hart's voice replied. “Looks like the fog's starting to dissipate, too.”

Danae sighed and returned to her attempts to massage away her latest leg cramp. “It's steam, not fog,” she said. “That's Ravagin, all right—he pulled that same fire-and-water stunt our first night here.”

“Did it work then?” Hart asked, dropping lightly back to the ground beside her.

“Well enough. You think he got away?”

Hart's silhouette shrugged. “No way to tell. He didn't escape without a fight, though—I saw a lot of what looked like demon parasite spirits swarming around the area.”

Danae clenched her teeth hard enough to hurt. “So what do we do? Try and find him?”

Hart was silent for a moment. “Whatever precipitated that duel out there, it should be obvious to him that something's gone wrong with Melentha's hold on you,” he said at last. “If the sprite you said you sent was actually able to find him, he knows you've escaped; otherwise, all he knows is that the demons watching you sent a message to Melentha that probably threw her into a panic. Either way he'll be on his way back to the way house to check.”

“But if he knows I'm free—”

“You might have been recaptured,” Hart pointed out. “Regardless, he'll try to come by and check for sure.”

“Why?”

“Because that's the kind of person he is,” Hart said simply.

Danae felt her lip twitch. “Yeah.”

Stepping to the edge of the copse that concealed them, Hart peered out. “Yes … if he heads back in anything approaching a straight line, we should be able to spot him from here,” he told Danae. “I think it's worth waiting a few minutes to see if he makes it.”

Danae nodded, grimacing, as her earlier thoughts returned to shame her. She'd been all set to just go ahead and desert Ravagin—and here was Hart with his ice-filled circulatory system willing to take risks to keep the other from riding back to his death.

“If he does,” Hart continued into Danae's thoughts, “we'll have a much better chance of making it back to the Tunnel. He knows the territory, possibly even better than Melentha does.”

Danae snorted softly to herself. So much for Hart's newfound compassion … but the lesson to her was still applicable. “You seem to have picked up a lot of the territory yourself,” she said. “That spell you mentioned, for instance, the one you used to bind the demon closer to his posts. I've never even heard of that one.”

“I can't really claim any credit for it,” Hart shrugged. “After I left Nordis, I went back to Gartanis to find out just what had happened. When he found out I was here to watch after you, he gave me some specialized spells he thought might help me get you out. Having seen the place, I'm glad I didn't have to use them.”

Danae shook her head in wonder. “I'd have thought that after being attacked by demons himself he'd have wanted to wash his hands of me.”

“Just the opposite, actually. He was mad as a fury over what Melentha's demons did to his house and lar.” Abruptly, Hart stopped, cocking his head sideways. “Hoofbeats,” he murmured.

Danae licked her lips and nodded silently, feeling painfully naked out here without any protection at all. A quick lar invocation, perhaps … but if it was Melentha out there, calling up a spirit would be about as clever as setting the whole copse on fire. “How are we going to attract his attention?” she whispered.

“
We
don't;
I
do. You'll stay here while I ride out and check.”

Silently, Danae slid off the horse, thinking furiously. There had to be a way … “Wait a second,” she said suddenly as Hart reached up to pull himself up. “If it's Ravagin he'll be alone …
plazni-hy-ix!
”

“What—? Oh; a jinx spell.”

“Right.” Holding her breath, Danae watched as the almost invisible cloud faded off toward the distant hoof-beats in response to her placement gesture. If it
was
Ravagin out there, he would hopefully notice the spell and come to the proper conclusion. If it was Melentha and her demonic entourage, the spell should at least buy her and Hart some time to get away.

Abruptly, the hoofbeats faltered and came to a halt.

Unconsciously, Danae's hands curled into fists, aware of the gamble she was taking. A jinx wasn't nearly as conspicuous as a lar, but even so Melentha's demons would probably be able to trace it back to the point of invocation in nothing flat …

The hoofbeats began again. Coming closer.

Silently, Hart squeezed Danae's arm and moved a short distance to the side. Danae gritted her teeth as the shadow of a mounted rider loomed against the dimly lit landscape—

“Danae? Hart? Anyone there?”

Danae exhaled in relief, the tension draining out of her body along with the air. “We're here, Ravagin, in the trees,” she called out softly.

“You both all right?” he called. The pace of the hoofbeats picked up, but remained somehow oddly cautious.

“Yes,” she told him. “How'd you get away from Melentha?”

“With great difficulty, and only temporarily unless we get the hell out of the area.”