46. Forty-six
Chapter 46
I was halfway to Rovileis, more or less, when the Ward fell again. It was a shock to my body, after a day of being utterly numb, to have power sear through me.
For a moment I just sat in the wolf, hand on the tiller, shuddering under the weight of the magic. Then I remembered the mirror I’d just taken from Eudoria’s workroom, carefully swaddled in my bag. I tugged it out and balanced it on my knees, staring as the picture developed.
Everything looked distorted through the Ward. Softer, details lost. The male was as gray as Kalcedon. He paced along the Ward, then stopped by one of the stones. Turned and faced it, then looked through. I wanted to see the cruel face there, wanted to make out the features and measure them against the familiar ones I knew by heart. But I couldn’t. Smudges of darkness marked the shadows of the eyes, a bright ridge of nose. The clothes were dark. I could tell no more than that.
The figure turned and paced back the other way, then froze again and lifted his hands to his head. He was staring through the Ward again.
As if he were waiting for something. Because what could there possibly be to look at on the other side? What could be interesting even through the haze of magic? I could see trees behind the male, and sky, and grass.
I hadn’t watched any further than that, last time I saw the image.
But now, I watched another figure emerge out of the trees. The first male turned to look, and the figure drew closer. The newcomer was green-tinged, with paler clothes. I watched as they began to talk, or perhaps to fight. The gray male was emphatic. He pointed to the Ward, gesturing sharply. The second shook his head. They talked a moment longer, and the green male turned to walk away.
The magic in the air was cooling. I fed a sliver of myself into the sigils, not wanting to see the story end.
The first gestured again, the movements so complex that I knew them for sigil work without even being able to see what shapes his fingers formed. The retreating male turned swiftly, perhaps feeling a spell take hold. He began to draw sigils of his own, but not fast enough, because the first male had… disappeared him? Or, no. Turned him into a bird, because there was a bird now, a dark blue creature that fluttered pitifully.
Whatever happened next I’d never see. Those few seconds were all I could buy, and I’d gone too far, right up to the point of danger. I dropped the spell and managed to tuck the mirror back into my bag with trembling hands before I made it to the edge of the wolf and threw up. Waves didn’t mix well with chill.
So that was a pleasant hour. And the worst of it, of course, was that I hadn’t learned anything useful.
Perhaps Eudoria had simply been skimming along the Ward, keeping an eye on things, and stopped to see the faeries who’d approached it. They might not be related to Kalcedon at all. It could have been a spat between friends or lovers, for all I knew.
And the Ward had fallen again, though now it was back, a pale flicker of violet iridescence between me and the blue sky above.
I had no way to know for certain, but I felt sure Kalcedon was on the other side now. Why else capture him, unless somebody wanted him? And that meant I was in trouble, because I’d have to bring the Ward down to reach him.
I adjusted the sails to catch the wind, my jaw determined.