Whisperings of Magic (11 page)

“I have spoken with Norl,” Sele the Plump announced. “He has, indeed, seen horrific sights and endured much.”

“He spoke?” Mavahn’s voice was a whisper as she stared into her son’s face.

“He spoke,” the Sele replied. He turned to the boy. “Tell them, boy,” it said gently. “Your mother needs to hear your words.”

Norl looked back at his mother. “I’m sorry, Mother,” he said. “I’ve worried you, but I didn’t mean to.” The words wobbled and shook.

Mavahn let out a cry and swooped down upon him, enveloping him in her arms. “Norl!” she cried. “Thanks be! You’ve come back to me!”

At that the boy collapsed onto her shoulder and he, too, wept.

“What did you see in the north?” Dahl asked. “What happened there?”

Mavahn grasped her son tightly and glared at Dahl over his shoulders. “Question him not!” she cried. “I will not have him troubled again. He must forget!”

But Norl straightened and turned to face Dahl. He dashed the tears from his eyes with one hand. His face was pale but set. “It’s all right, Mother,” he said. “I can speak of what I saw now.” He flashed a look at Sele the Plump and drew a deep breath, as if drawing breath from the Sele itself, then looked back at Dahl.

“I saw a monster, horrible beyond all description. It flew over me and descended upon the village I was walking toward. The marketplace was crowded with people. They screamed and began running every which way, but it flew low over them, covering them with its shadow.” Norl stopped. Mavahn drew him closer.

“Enough, child. That’s enough.”

“No, Mother, I must finish.” He went on, shuddering. “A darkness rose up from the ground—all shredded and in pieces. The monster … the monster seemed somehow to gather it all into one huge cloud and then sped off through the skies, trailing the cloud behind it.”

“This monster,” Dahl said, his voice tight with strain, “did it spew forth fire?”

“No,” Norl answered, “but its eyes glowed as if there were flames burning behind them.”

“Dragonfire,” Dahl breathed. “But how can it be? I slew the dragon myself!”

“You slew one dragon, Dahl. This must be another,” Catryn said. “This must be the beast that pursued me the night the horse and I flew up here.”

“A dragon?” The voice from the doorway startled them all. Bruhn stood there. “We go to do battle with a
dragon?”

“I have done battle with a dragon before. If needs be I will do battle with a dragon again,” Dahl answered.

“There is more amiss here than just a dragon,” Catryn said thoughtfully.

“Just
a dragon?” Bruhn echoed. “I should think a dragon would be danger enough!”

Catryn paid him no heed. She directed her next question to Norl, as gently as she could.

“The people, Norl … What did the people do after the beast flew away?”

For a moment Norl looked confused. “I turned and ran,” he said. “I was too frightened to look back, but …”

“But?” Catryn encouraged him.

“But before I fled I saw the people standing there. Just standing where they had been when the monster attacked. And they were not screaming anymore …” He stared at Catryn, confusion mounting in his face as he remembered. “They were not making any noise at all. They just—
stood
there.”

“We must go to that village,” Dahl said. “As quickly as we can. We
must
find out what is happening.”

As they made their farewells, Catryn’s mind was churning. Norl’s description of what had happened—the chaos, then the strange silence, the numbness of the people—that description matched so exactly what she had felt when she had tried seeing into the north. She turned to take a last look back at the boy and his mother, then suddenly she stiffened. Surely that was not the figure of a man she saw duck into the trees behind the house? A hooded man?

They traveled all that day without reaching another village. At sundown Catryn and Dahl determined to make camp in a welcoming grove of trees. The weather was warm. Small insects tormented them while they settled themselves, but as soon as the fire was smoking the bugs desisted. Bruhn soon had a good stew boiling over the flames; the Sele ate naught but his grain. Catryn and Dahl discussed what they had learned from the boy, Norl, while they ate, but Bruhn remained silent. As soon as they had finished eating, he spread his cloak out under a tree and settled himself for sleep. Catryn waited by the fire until she was certain he slept. She had decided that she must speak to Dahl again about Bruhn, whether he wished to hear it or not.

Dahl had moved away from the campfire. He was sitting, staring at the two moons that were rising above the trees, one just slightly above the other. Their combined light etched the copse in which they camped into sharp black-and-white shadows, in some cases, shadows that were twins of each other.

“Dahl?”

He looked up. Catryn dropped down to the leaf-strewn ground beside him. Somewhere close, a small animal scurried into hiding.

“I would talk further with you about Bruhn.”

“What now, Catryn?” Dahl asked wearily.

“After we went to our beds in the tavern last night I felt uneasy,” she began. “Something was bothering me. I knew not what. I opened the door of my room and looked out into the tavern. Bruhn was there. He had returned after he thought that we all slept, and he was deep in conversation with a man.”

“Perhaps he could not sleep, either,” Dahl said, but the frown returned to furrow his brow.

“Wait. Hear me out,” Catryn said. “I had noticed this man earlier, while we supped. He sat at the table next to us and seemed to be trying to hear all that we said, but he kept his face covered with his hood. As if he did not want us to see him. And there was something about him. Something familiar. Something that made my skin prickle in warning.”

“What are you saying now, Catryn? That Bruhn is not to be trusted? That he is plotting against us?”

“No,” Catryn exclaimed, then glanced around to ensure the others had not heard her. She lowered her voice. “No,” she repeated. “I am not saying that, but Bruhn looked so furtive. And when I questioned him about it he lied to me.”

“Perhaps he was angered again by your suspicions. You have been hard on him, Catryn,” Dahl said. Nevertheless, he leaped to his feet and began to pace. His hands clenched.

“That is not all,” Catryn answered, forcing herself to speak calmly. “I saw that man again when we left Mavahn’s cottage. He is following us.”

“How do you know it was the same man?” Dahl demanded. “Did you see his face at all?”

“No,” Catryn answered. “He was hooded every time I saw him. But I am certain it was the same man. And I know he means danger for us.”

Dahl ceased his pacing and stood. He, too, seemed to be struggling to control himself. “Forgive me, Catryn,” he said. “I recognize your abilities and I welcome your help, but I fear you are seeing problems where there are none. Bruhn may be afraid—I can accept that—but I cannot believe he is plotting against us.”

“I did not say that …” Catryn began. She felt a sinking of her heart. She was just making matters worse.

“But that
is
what you are saying,” Dahl countered.

Catryn fell silent. He was right.

“I will not lose faith with Bruhn because of suspicions, Catryn. If you have proof, come to me with it. If not, I wish to hear no more of this.”

Catryn’s face closed. So be it. Let whatever Bruhn might do be on Dahl’s head. She retreated to her own shelter and curled herself up, wrapped in anger. She felt the aura of the Elders reaching out to her, but she did not open herself to it. Her mind was too full, too troubled. She could not let them comfort her.

The moons reached their apex and started their journey back down to the far horizon. Still, Catryn lay sleepless. Finally, she gave up even trying to find rest. She crept out of her shelter and walked into the trees that surrounded them. The soft, hidden noises of the night began to soothe her. Then another noise, not loud but out of place in this peace, stopped her. Quickly, she slipped off the path and concealed herself behind a tree. Coming up the path, in the direction from which they had traveled, came a figure. Darkness swirled around him as his cape billowed with each careful step. She knew him! Catryn did not pause for thought. She gathered into herself and melted into the darkness. Immediately, she became one with the night and its secrets opened to her. Black fur shimmered; unblinking, ebonite eyes glittered. She padded slowly and silently after him, the hard-packed forest floor reassuringly solid beneath her paws.

The man made his way straight toward their camp. At the edge of the clearing he paused to survey the small cluster of shelters. Catryn slipped through the trees behind him. As she drew near to him, her ears flattened against her head.

A mist of evil swam through the darkness to Catryn. Instinctively she drew back her lips, baring teeth that gleamed in the failing light of the two moons. A low growl began deep in her throat. A mistake. The man stiffened. He turned, but his face was still hidden in the shadow of his hood.

They faced each other as if waiting to do battle. Catryn tensed her muscles to spring. She felt her claws clench into the ground beneath her feet. At that moment, as if he had been called, Bruhn stepped out of his shelter. The man looked over his shoulder at Bruhn, then back at Catryn. He drew his cloak around him and vanished just as she sprang.

She landed in empty space. Bruhn stared at her from across the dwindling fire in astonishment. Catryn whirled and disappeared back into the trees. Now Dahl
must
listen to her!

“Catryn tells an extraordinary tale, Bruhn,” Dahl said the next morning as they were readying to leave.

Bruhn dropped the water jug he was holding. He recovered himself quickly, but his hands trembled as he bent to retrieve the vessel before too much water spilled out.

“She tells of a man who came to our campsite in the dead of night last night. Who stood gazing at us as if calling to someone. And you coming out to meet him. Is this true, my friend? What is the explanation?”

“So now you doubt me, too?” Bruhn exploded. “You call me friend, but you question me because of
her
suspicions?”

“I am but asking, Bruhn. What can you tell me?”

“I saw no man,” Bruhn blustered. “I came out in the night to relieve myself. If there was a man watching, I did not see him.”

“Is this true, my friend?”

“Do you accuse me of lying in the same breath that you call me friend?” Bruhn asked through clenched teeth.

“No, of course not,” Dahl responded quickly, but his voice lacked conviction.

Bruhn turned on his heel and left. Dahl would have followed, but Catryn forestalled him.

“There was a man there, Dahl,” Catryn insisted, “and he was no ordinary man.” Finally, she told him of the vision she had had in his palace.

“Why did you not tell me this before?” Dahl demanded. “I should have known of it.”

“You are right. I should have spoken of this earlier,” Catryn answered. “I did not want you to know how frightened I was by it. I was afraid … afraid you would lose confidence in me if you knew how vulnerable I was.”

“I would never have done so, Catryn,” Dahl exclaimed. “Fear is not to be ashamed of. I learned that well when I faced the Usurper. No one could have been more afraid than I was then. But the Protector taught me the truly brave man is not one who does not feel fear. He is the one who feels fear but goes forward in spite of it. That is why I have defended Bruhn so.” He reached out to her, grasped her hand and pulled her to him.

Catryn allowed her head to rest on his shoulder with relief. She felt a lightness sing through her whole being.

“I should have trusted you, Dahl. The Elders advised me wisely.” She saw Dahl begin to form a question, but forestalled it. There was no time for explanations now.

“I felt the evil in that man, Dahl,” she said, stepping back and looking up at him. “I recognized it—recognized him. Even though he did not speak, I know his was the voice that I heard in my vision.”

“What, then, does he want with Bruhn?”

“I do not know,” Catryn answered. “But I doubt Bruhn’s power to withstand him.”