NINE
SIEGE
Things moved so fast Daine’s head spun: Pirate’s Swoop was more than prepared for night attacks. Within minutes Captain Josua, Thayet, and Sarge had left to quietly wake the village and bring the people back to the castle.
With them they took Daine’s promise the livestock would move quietly. Once she had explained things to them, the village animals were eager to help. She felt ashamed of herself for showing them images of the raiders’ imaginary stewpots in such gruesome detail, but told herself the cause was a good one. Even the geese and chickens had been willing to go along after that.
Next she asked the bats to return to their friends in her stable. You won’t like the people I’m going to talk to now, she assured them, and they believed her. George had asked her for spies who would spook less easily than the bats, and that meant only one thing: owls. Daine had to admit owls were unnerving to deal with, and she liked them—the bats did not. While they weren’t natural enemies, there was always a chance an owl could make a mistake, and apologies meant nothing to a dead bat.
With the bats gone, she went to the limits of her range, contacting owls and explaining her problem. She wasn’t surprised to find that the silent predators were already angry about the invasion: the strangers had chased all the game worth hunting into burrows in earth and tree.
Waiting for the owls’ report, she and Numair went to the observation deck. From there they watched as the Swoop’s gates quietly opened and guards and Riders headed for the village, to help the people pack and move. Daine noted with approval that the hooves of all the horses and ponies were muffled. With the moon full and the night clear, they didn’t need torches—a small blessing, since the invaders also had used moonlight to keep their arrival secret.
The owls reported, and Daine wrote their information on her paper. When they finished, she added the total with fingers that shook. She checked her numbers and came up with the same total. A third check bore the same result.
Her voice emerged as a squeak. “Lord Baron?” He had come while she was working. “I have the whole thing,”
He raised his eyebrows. “So soon?”
“Owls are fast” She pointed out the total—a little more than six hundred men had infiltrated the woods. “The owls say they aren’t moving. They’re camped. No fires, but they’ve settled.”
“Waitin’ for dawn,” the baron said. “Waitin’ for that.” He nodded at the sea. Two miles out a fog bank lay on the ocean, its top as high as the tower on which they stood. It took her a minute of looking before she saw what was wrong: the curved dome was clean, as if the thing were shaped by a sculptor. It was also dead on the water. Fog was neither tidy nor slow. It moved fast and overwhelmed everything in its way. This close, she should not have been able to see the sky, and she ought to have seen it move by now.
“Numair?” George asked. The sorcerer was leaning on the wall, his eyes closed. A transparent black cloud surrounded him; bits of light flickered in it like fireflies.
He shook his head. “It’s opaque. I can’t even feel the weather-working spells that are holding it in place, and there have to be spells. Fog is defined by natural law like any atmospheric creation. In the absence of those laws, we have to assume magic, which I should be able to detect. Since I can’t detect it, that argues the presence of dampening spells in the fog.”
“Dampenin’ spells.” George’s face was tight. “We’re boxed in, then—like rats in a trap. Whatever’s in that fog will hit us in the mornin’, sure as the Crooked God cheats. Why’d we have no idea this was comin’?”
The mage looked at his friend. “George, there are more illusion spells and diffusion spells than there are stars. Saying is an inexact magic: I have to know what to look for. All right, I’m good, but even I can be overwhelmed or outflanked. Alanna and Jon would tell you the same thing.”
George put a hand on Numair’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean you failed at your job. It’s just been a long time since I’ve been sucker-punched. I don’t like it.” His face had taken on harsh new lines. “They’ll crush us, between what’s out there and those six hundred at our backs.”
“And the army won’t come before were bruised at least,” Numair said.
“Aye.”
“How many warriors here?”
“Eighty—not countin’ the Riders.” George drew a deep breath and looked at Daine. “What can your friends do to help?”
She swallowed. “Don’t ask me to make them fight,” she pleaded. “They’re not—this isn’t about them. I can’t ask them to fight and die for humans.” Shivering, the girl remembered the marsh and the slaughtered birds. “Please say you understand.”
George’s silence drew out for a long moment and it was impossible to read what was in his face. At last he smiled and patted her arm. “I don’t, entirely, but then I’m all too human. Will you ask them to watch, then? To let us know if more soldiers come, or if the ones out there start to move?”
She nodded, and whispered, “Thanks.” Sending out her request, Daine settled to wait for her friends’ reports from the woods. As she listened, guards and Riders began to return with the villagers. Never before had an evacuation gone so well. The livestock had been waiting for their owners to come out. There were no problems with catching animals, not even chickens. The trainees, at least, had a good idea of why this was so. The villagers did not, and fled to the castle as if their own animals had turned to ghosts.
Dawn. The first raiders came into sight, to find the village empty and the castle gates closed. The battlements were lined with warriors who did not look surprised in the least to see raiders outside their walls.
When the sun rose above the horizon, fog rolled over Pirate’s Swoop.
A gentle hand was shaking her, and a wet tongue was bathing her face. Daine looked up and saw Onua, Kalasin, and Tahoi. “I’m sorry, I must’ve gone to sleep.” She turned scarlet with embarrassment and tried to get up. Her knees buckled. “Goddess! How long have I been here?”
Onua caught her on one side, Kally on the other. “Since the middle of the night. The baron says we owe the warning to you and your friends.”
“Thank my friends. I just passed the word on.” She massaged the cramps from her legs. Kally gave her a roll stuffed with fruit and held a jug full of juice to go with it. Daine was still hungry when she finished. “What’s going on now?” she asked, accepting a sausage roll from her young friend.
“We’re in trouble. This”—Onua’s wave took in the fog surrounding them—“isn’t just fog. It carries dampening spells for the Gift—plenty of ’em. We’re not sure how many sorcerers are out there holding it, but there have to be a lot of them. Whoever engineered this planned for everything.”
Daine looked at the two humans. “That hurts you both, right? You’re both Gifted.”
Onua nodded. “Lucky for us, there’s no need for magic just yet. Numair got word out to the palace and to the king before the fog came in.”
Daine looked at the woman, wondering if the mage had found anyone nearby who could help. Reading her, Onua shook her head.
“I’d best put on clean clothes, then, and get my bow.” She caught an angry call from below. “And let Cloud know I’m alive. She’s upset with me.”
“Can I go with her?” asked Kally.
Onua smiled. “Of course. Just make sure you stay with Daine. If you run into your brother, have him report to me.”
Daine glanced around to see who was there, and saw the queen, Numair, and the baron, with trainees and guardsmen armed and keeping watch. “Where should I report to?”
“Here. Take your time. Nothing can happen as long as this mess hangs over us.”
She nodded, “Lets go, Kally. I need to clean up.”
Roald and Thom were waiting for Daine in her loft. She shooed them downstairs while she changed, combed her hair, got her weapons, and comforted the frightened bats. In the stable below she soothed the ponies, all of whom knew something bad was going on. She was uneasy, herself. She’d been fogged in before at the Swoop, but it wasn’t the same. The mist felt dirty, and the hackles were up on the back of her neck. The two boys, both Gifted, were in worse condition than Onua and Kally, and clung to Daine’s hands as she walked them back to the inner court.
On her trip down she hadn’t looked at the new arrangements: now she did. Long tents were set up for healers. Water barrels were stacked everywhere. Temporary corrals held the village animals. Seeing them, Daine went to thank them, assure them they were safe, and reinforce the need for their good behavior. It was the first time anyone had explained that raider attacks were the reason why they were so often dragged up to the castle without warning. Understanding that, they were more than eager to help.
“Honestly, you’d think people would have told them before now and saved everyone trouble,” Daine growled. “Speaking of people, where’s their masters?”
“Some are on the wall,” Thom, said. Looking up, Daine saw villagers armed with bows, shields, and metal caps among the guards and Riders. “The rest are in the lower levels. We’re dug into the rock. There’s plenty of room down below.”
She was startled. She’d never dreamed there might be more to the castle than what she saw. “How many more surprises does your da have up his sleeve?”
Thom grinned. “A lot.”
Sarge waved to her from the wall. She waved back, hoping her face didn’t reveal her thoughts. She had human friends here too—friends who might be hurt, or die. With Ma and Grandda gone, she’d thought she was free of that kind of pain, but she was less free than ever. She’d never love anyone as she had her family, but others had come to be important to her: Evin and Miri, who gave her acceptance; Onua, an elder sister; the Rider officers, respect for her judgment. Each of those people now was a potential wound.
Thinking grim thoughts, she climbed the outside stair to the deck, the children following her. I should’ve stayed wild, she told herself. I never should’ve got back up on my hind legs.
Never? another part of her asked. Never means not meeting sea lions and griffins. Never means not hearing whales sing. Never means not learning how to heal. She sighed.
On deck once more, she saw two guards and two trainees, Elnore and Padrach, on duty with bows strung and ready. The queen and Onua were armed as well. Buri, like Sarge, was elsewhere on the walls, keeping an eye on the other trainees. Baron George was talking quietly to one of the guards.
Thayet smiled at her and crooked a finger at her son and daughter. “Come talk to me,” she ordered, and they obeyed. Thom went to stand with his father, and Daine sought out Numair.
“Are you all right?”
He looked tired and strained. His mouth was tight, as if he were afraid he might say too much if he opened it. He barely managed a smile for her. “I’m scared,” he said quietly.
She looked up at him. I’m the only one who understands, she thought. If the Lioness were here, he’d’ve said it to her, but she’s not and I am. There’s magic in the air, lots of it, and everyone looks to him for a miracle. Right now he can’t even tell if his magic is the right kind, and he’s afraid.
She put her hand in his, and he squeezed it tight. “I hate to theorize without information, but I need a working plan,” he told her softly. “As it is, I either hold the spells off the Swoop so the others can function, or I leave the dampeners on them and punch through myself, to fight with what I have. The problem is that as a warrior-mage my talents are limited, and I have no healing magic at all. If Alanna were here, we could work off each other, but—” His face tightened again.
“That’s it, then,” she said, trying to think aloud as he did. “They lured the Lioness off and put an army between her and us just for that.”
He nodded.
“Which means they’ve been watchin us all along.” Daine and Numair both jumped when George spoke behind them. “They know we’ve the queen here, and the next two in line for the throne.”
Daine and Numair looked at each other and chorused, “The Stormwings.”
That’s why they were spying out the seacoast,” Numair went on. “They were waiting for us to arrive and get settled. I’ll bet they also made sure none of our army or navy was close enough to help.” Something occurred to him, and his eyes lit. “Daine—your magic. How is it?”
She was surprised he even asked. “It’s the same as ever. You told me, yourself, I couldn’t turn it off.”
“Wild magic,” Numair breathed. “It’s in everything. No matter how many dampeners they lay on us, you’ll be able to function!”
Something tugged at the back of her eyes—something ugly and sour. “I can’t send my friends to die,” she warned, but already her attention had shifted. “Bows!” she yelled, getting hers off her back and putting an arrow to the string. “Bows! Stormwing in the air!”
George shoved Thom down between the wall and the floor of the deck, grabbed the prince and princess and did the same with them. Thayet and Onua had their weapons in hand. The trainees and guards were armed and ready. The baron had drawn his sword and dagger.
Numair swore so vividly that the children looked at him in awe and delight and added, “The wind’s shifting. They don’t need the fog anymore.”
“The dampeners?” George asked hopefully.
The mage shook his head. “Still there. The fog laid them down. Now the spells will stick to all that the fog touched.”
Within minutes the fog was gone, and the world around them was lit by a midmorning sun. Daine gasped at the scene that lay before them. A fleet lay in the cove: five long boats, or galleys, rowed by chained men belowdecks, and seven smaller vessels, all bristling with warriors and their arms. Behind them lay four barges, huge, flat-bottomed boats with no apparent way to move. Large wooden structures sat in the middle of each, things that were wood, rawhide, and rope knit together. Each barge carried a stock of round stone balls, and a complement of barrels. Around their rims, and around the weird structures, were huge bags of sand.
“Such a big siege for such a little castle,” Thayet murmured. “Where could they have sailed from?”
“Copper Isles,” George replied quietly. “They’re Carthak’s allies now.”
“What are the big, flat ones?” Daine asked, searching the air for the Stormwing she had felt.
The queen raised a spyglass to her eye. “War barges—the terror of the Carthaki navy.” She offered the glass so Daine could see clearly. “The things in the middle are catapults. Each barge is counterbalanced with magic and ballast so the catapults can hurl stone balls or liquid fire. They can pound the walls of a place like this to rubble in the space of a day.”
“So this emperor has declared war?” Daine asked. She had found the Stormwing, high above. He stooped, dropping onto the deck of the largest of the galleys, laughing as humans scrambled away from him.
“No Carthaki flags,” Onua said. “This isn’t official.”
Daine stared at her. “Surely that makes no difference. A flag’s only a bit of cloth, after all.”
“A war’s not a war until an official declaration is made and the armies march under flags.” Onua pursed her mouth cynically. “None of those men or our friends in the woods are wearing uniforms, either.”
“And he can do that?” Daine asked, outraged. “It’s not a war till this emperor fellow says it is?”
“Or until His Majesty does,” Numair remarked.
Onua said, “We can’t expect any help from our navy?
“A week ago Scanran wolf-boats hit all along the north coast,” George told them. “Most of the navy is up there, or on our part of the Inland Sea.”
“How nice,” Prince Roald muttered.
“Heads up, darlin’s,” George said. “I think we’re about to hear terms.” The Stormwing was taking flight again, an elegant white flag in one claw and something much smaller in the other.
“This is not good.” Numair too had a spyglass. “See the red robes at the bow of each ship? And there are at least four yellow robes per barge?” He lowered his glass. “A scarlet robe from the university in Carthak means you have your mastery—the same level as the Mithran black-and-gold robe. University yellow robes are adepts. They brought the barges here, and their spells keep them afloat and working.
“What robe are you?” Daine asked, watching the Stormwing’s approach.
“None,” he replied. “Ever put one of those things on? They’re hot.”
“He’s a black robe,” Onua said, hands tight on her bow as she watched the monster. “There are only seven of them in the world.”
The Stormwing was a hundred feet away.
“Bows,” Thayet said quietly. In the same movement she and all the archers on the deck raised their weapons, sighting on the messenger.
He hovered in the air before them, smirking. “Now, is that nice?”
Daine clenched her teeth. This was the one who’d come between her and her ma. This close, she could put an arrow clean through him.
The creature dropped a scroll onto the stone between Thayet and George. The queen didn’t blink; it was the baron who picked it up and opened it. “To Queen Thayet of Tortall and Baron George Cooper of Pirate’s Swoop, from the Lord of the Free Corsairs, Mahil Eddace, greetings. By virtue of superior numbers and armament, I claim the castle, village, point, and waters of Pirate’s Swoop for the League of Free Corsairs. Should you prove obdurate—’”
“Obdurate?” Daine whispered without taking her eyes from her target.
“Stubborn,” supplied Numair.
George continued to read, “’—I shall have no choice but to reduce the castle, enslave the survivors, kill all beasts, and sow its fields with salt. You have one chance only to avoid death, capture, or enslavement: surrender to me the person and effects of Thayet of Tortall and her children, Prince Roald and Princess Kalasin. You have what remains of this day and tonight to reflect. If the three persons named are not given over to us by such time as the dawn sun will clear the horizon, we will commence bombardment by catapult. If you wish to signify acceptance of these terms, you may do so by runnin up three white pennants.’” Calmly he rolled the message up again, and as calmly ripped it to pieces and tossed them over the wall.
“Looks like Ozorne decided what advantage he needs against the king,” muttered Onua.
“There was a time when your folk were no one’s errand boys,” the baron told the Stormwing. His voice was even and almost friendly.
“We don’t mind helping out,” the Stormwing told him, baring his filthy teeth in a grin. “In a good cause, you understand.” He looked at Daine. “Hello, pink pig. Zhaneh Bitterclaws will be here to see you soon.” He nodded at Onua. “Both of you.” Turning back to George and Thayet, he said, “Well? Your answer?”
The baron spat on the stone near his feet. “Get out, before I let them make you into a pin cushion.”
The Stormwing’s giggle was high and grating. “Oh, good. We hoped you’d say that.” He pumped his wings, pulling away from them fast.
A hunter’s screech split the air, and Daine’s osprey friend shot past the humans. He tangled his feet in the monster’s hair and hung on, pecking for the monster’s eyes. The Stormwing shrieked in fury and tried to dislodge the bird from his head, but lacked the arms with which to do it.
“Daine, call him off,” Numair said, his voice suddenly tight.
“I didn’t call him on—”
“Do it!” her friend yelled. Before them gold fire was stretching above the galleys to form a great square, anchored by the red robes below.
“Come back,” Daine yelled, putting her will behind it. “It’s not worth it, come back!” Something was pounding through the air, making her ears hurt.
The osprey broke off the attack and returned. Onua grabbed the children and hustled them off the deck.
I almost had his eyes, the bird complained. Just one more wingbeat—
The gold fire in the square exploded, knocking everyone down. Like a nightmare, a horde of Stormwings blasted through, led by Zhaneh Bitterclaws. They filled the air with a degree of stench and evil that had not been felt in the world in four centuries. To that they added pure fear in a weight that crushed the humans before them. Something—something huge and red in color—almost seemed to shove the gigantic flock through the gate, but it vanished. It had only been an impression; Daine was too busy trying to breathe with a full pack of terror on her mind to think about it for more than a second.
She straightened: an act of will that took all the courage she had. At the palace she’d had a taste of what a flock of the monsters could be like, but it was nothing like this. She brought up her longbow. At the edge of her vision she saw Numair, then the baron, struggle to their feet. She smiled, blinked the sweat from her eyes, and loosed her arrow.
The messenger had chosen to attack with the flock. As she suspected, her arrow went clean through him. Before he had struck the rocks below she had another arrow on the string and loosed. It flew in a volley as the other humans released their arrows.
Battle raged. Archers, Daine included, fired bolt after bolt, making sure of the target before they loosed. Numair made a hard decision fast: sitting against the wall, where he’d trip no one up, he lifted the dampener spells. The people with lesser Gifts, including those who knew fire- and war-spells, got to work. Onua quickly drew a protective circle around the mage to hide him from the Stormwings.
Daine fought two wars. Her animal friends wanted to rescue her, but she refused to let them. She soon learned that keeping her will on so many species, in the woods, the castle, and the air, was impossible. Pain shot through her head: twice she lost control of the gulls and ospreys. With triumphant screams the birds leaped into the air to harry the Stormwings. With claws and beaks they attacked, trying to drive the monsters onto the rocks or into each other.
Tears rolled down Daine’s cheeks. Mechanically she fired as birds fought and died, cut by steel wings or torn to pieces by steel claws and teeth. There was no chance that her power to heal would be pulled from her in this battle as it had been in the marsh: a wound here was death on the rocks below.
When the Stormwings attacked, so did the land raiders, reinforced by the fleet once the fog lifted. For the rest of the morning and into the long afternoon they tried to bring rams and ladders up to the castle walls, and were driven back.
Eventually the Stormwings lost interest in the battle and went to feast on the enemy dead outside the walls. They had what they wanted, no matter who won. They left the air over the deck first, not wanting to go on defending themselves against the archers and the birds.
When the deck had been quiet for a while, George ordered Daine to rest. She found some shade close to Numair and sat, leaning her throbbing head on her updrawn knees. No! she told the animals, who wanted to fight. No, no, no! With her last refusal she tightened her grip, until they gave in.
“Look at you.” While she’d battled her friends, Miri had come to the deck with Kalasin and one of the maids. All three carried laden trays and wine-skins. The fisher-girl came to Daine, frowning. “Your skin’s a nice lobster red. You landlubbers don’t think about reflected glare—” She rubbed a cool salve into Daine’s hot face and arms. “Kally, where’s the tonic?”
The princess filled a tankard from her wineskin and handed it over.
“Drink, or you’ll be sick.” Miri put the tankard to Daine’s lips. She took a gulp and choked—it was tomato juice laden with salt and other things. “Drink it all.”
“Goddess, that’s nasty!” she croaked. She had the Smith-god’s own headache. Her hands throbbed, and her fingers refused to close. The muscles of both arms were screaming. She had never shot so much in her life.
“Nasty it may be, but it’ll keep you from collapsing on us. Have some more. Maude brewed it up special for you. Only think how her feelings would be hurt if you refused it.”
She sat up, wincing as her head pounded. Maude?—the old woman in charge of the nursery. “That’s right—she’s a healer, isn’t she?” From her cradle Daine had been taught to do as a healer said. She drew a deep breath and drank what was in the tankard as fast as possible. For a moment her stomach surged and her head screamed; then most of the pain and sickness were gone. “Goddess bless all healers,” Daine whispered. Even her hands had improved a little.
She sat up, and the maid gave her a bowl of stew and a roll. Daine took them and began to eat as Miri and the servant looked at Numair. “Should you even be out here?” she asked Kally.
“Onua put a protective circle around this place,” Miri said over her shoulder.
Daine smiled at Kally, then looked at Miri. “How’s it going?”
“Not bad.” That came from Numair. He sat with his head tilted back against the wall, his eyes closed, his face pouring sweat. Pillows had been put around his sides to make him comfortable. Someone—a redheaded six-year-old, Daine suspected—had tucked his prize stuffed bear under one of the mage’s big hands. “They can’t breach the walls—can’t even get near them. They’re having a horrible time with the archers. We’re holding our own.
“Can you drink or eat?” Kally asked. “Maude says you should if it won’t distract you from the spells.”
He nodded. The girl fetched a cup of water from a nearby barrel and held it to his lips. He drank without opening his eyes. “How are you doing, Your Highness?”
“Please don’t call me that.” The girl’s voice cracked. “It’s ’cause of me being a princess that all this is happening. It’s my fault and I hate it!”
Daine rolled to her knees and went to the child. “Here, now—stop that,” she said, patting Kally’s shoulder. The girl turned and buried her head in Daine’s shirt. She was crying, and fighting hard to keep from making any sound. She’s only eight, Daine thought sadly. “You got it all wrong, sweet-ling. Those men would do this no matter who they’re after. They could have asked for Numair, here, who’s in trouble in that Carthak place, or Sarge, that’s a runaway slave. It isn’t ’cause of you or Roald or anybody. You’re just the excuse. If you must blame somebody, blame them Carthaks.”
“Carthakis,” Numair corrected. He was smiling a little. “Daine’s right, Kalasin. The person who commits an action is the one responsible for it, not the people he commits the action upon.”
“But they said it was ‘cause of Mama and Roald and me.” Kally blew her nose and wiped her face.
“So they would.” Daine burned with fury. The Riders, the guards—even she had put herself in spots where a fight might sometimes be the only answer. They all knew the risks. But to twist a little girl’s mind so she blamed herself for the fight—that was horrible. “Evil people say evil things to make good people cry and doubt. Don’t let them get that hold on you. It’s because they’re too cheap to buy food. They druther steal it if they can. That’s really what it’s about”
“Kalasin?” Maude was at the stair, calling. “I need you below. There’s healing to be done.”
Kally sniffed and wiped her face again. “Coming.”
Daine watched her go. “But she’s only a child.”
“That child is a strong, natural healer.” Numair hadn’t once opened his eyes. “She’s partly untrained, still, but Maude can talk her through whatever has to be done. How are you managing?”
Daine looked at him warily. “What d’you mean?”
“I mean your friends out there must be dying to go after the raiders, and I definitely recall you saying you won’t let them fight. The birds got away from you this morning, didn’t they?”
Daine clenched her fists and immediately regretted it. “I’m all right.”
“Liar.” He said it almost with amusement. “Is it a strain?”
The air was singing to her. “What?” She got to her feet. Where was it coming from? “Numair, do you hear it?”
“Hear what?”
It was like the griffins, only different, a singing coming from the north, low and close. It filled her eyes and ears and beat against the sore palms of her hands.
Onua was with George and Captain Josua, trying to talk Thayet into going below, when she felt her circle of protection on the deck evaporate. “Down!” She pushed the queen to the floor. George and Josua had their swords out as the source of the music came thundering up from below to surge over their heads. Numair was on his feet instantly, his watch over the castle shattered.
The dragon shrieked its fury and broke away, to head out to sea; she turned and came back. Everyone was on the floor but Daine. She stood on the wall, scant inches between her toes and empty air, awed by the glory before her. Scarlet wings and scales glittered like rubies along that long and graceful form. The wings, fashioned like a bat’s, were huge, delicate structures of deep red, lit from within by silver bones. As the dragon passed inches over her head, almost knocking her onto the deck, she could see orange and yellow scales decorating the great creature’s belly. Like the Stormwings, her claws and teeth were silver, but not the hard silver of metal.
Her song almost deafened the girl. She struggled to force the notes into a form she could understand, until she heard:—Kidnappers! Filthy kidnappers! Rend them, take the raven-haired one to a cage on the ships!—
Daine shook her aching head. What was she hearing?
The dragon came in low and almost seized Thayet before having to reverse her flight.—Bring me here? You will send me home with your human tricks!—
The girl closed her eyes. What tricks? she shouted with her magic, as loudly as she could. Tahoi yelped. Below the horses screamed, their delicate ears in pain.
The dragon came in again and yanked the sword from Josua’s fist. The man was flung to the stone, where he lay stunned.
“Stop!” Daine yelled. “Stop! What kidnappers? What lies?”
The dragon was coming again.—Send me home! I demand it!—
Numair threw fire at her, fire that settled on her like a cloak and blew away. The long head twisted around to focus on him.—Human mage, you will pay for stealing me!—
Daine threw herself at Numair and knocked him down. The long shadow fell over them, and stayed. The stone beneath them quivered. Somewhere distant a number of people screamed.
The deck was sixty feet across. The dragon had taken twenty of those feet for her person, forefeet to hind legs, and cluttered a good twenty feet more with her tail and wings. Everyone but Daine and Numair, between her forepaws, was pressed to the wall or had made it to the stairs.
Daine jumped to her feet and raised her hands. I think I have the knack of it now, she thought, or please Goddess I hope I do…. Putting her hands on that scarlet breast, she called,—Listen, wing-sister!—
Information flooded into her mind as the dragon let out an ear-rending screech. Daine’s nose began to bleed; the intensity of her contact with the dragon’s mind had overloaded her body’s limits.
—Who speaks?—
Daine drew a breath, forcing her heart and lungs to slow down.—Me.—
—Joking.—Disbelief was loud in the dragon’s mind and in hers.
—No joke,—Daine said.—What did they tell you, the red robes on the ships?—
Why did she feel as if she were healing something? A quick look inside showed her copper fire streaming through her hands, being pulled out of her and into the dragon. When she tugged, she realized she couldn’t yank away. Her palms were locked against the dragon’s scales.
The dragon was hesitant now.—They say—they say, raven-haired one and her kits stole me from home, brought me here to destroy boats.—
—Can’t you smell a lie?—Daine asked. She was getting a sense of the mind behind the huge, catlike eyes. This dragon was not much older than a human of Miri’s age, say, and very frightened: panicstricken, in fact.
—Only smell on red robes was Eaters.—The Stormwings were vivid in the dragon’s mind.
—They brought you, the robes. They brought you with the Eaters.—
—Do not understand…—The dragon was confused and scared. She was quivering under Daine’s hands.—Tired. Sick. Little one…—
Daine felt the dragon’s hide ripple. It was like a convulsion—or a contraction! Ma’s daughter realized.
—You’re having a baby!—she cried.
Suddenly the dragon’s mind filled with a hot excitement that shattered Daine’s magical hearing. Her hands dropped free of the dragon, and she clapped them to her ears.
The dragon screeched and launched herself into the air. Before Daine realized she was leaving, she had gone, flying north along the cliffs. Her image blurred, then vanished.
She can do magic, the girl realized with awe.
Numair got to his feet and jerked her into his arms. “You little idiot,” he whispered, hugging her so tightly she squeaked.
“She was in labor and on her way home,” Daine told him, feeling mashed. “They opened the gate nearby, and it pulled her in. I think it killed her baby. Maybe it would’ve killed her—but it was just what you said, the wild magic was just sucked right out of me, so I think she’s healing. And she’s been educated, Numair, from books! Her mind—it’s all organized, like you’ve been after me to do—”
Around them the others were coming forward. In Josua’s and the guards’ eyes she saw an emotion that looked like fear.
Someone ran up to the deck—Farant. “Master Numair? The healers are asking if something’s wrong. If you don’t shield them now, we’ll lose Sarge.”
“Oh no,” Thayet whispered.
Numair released Daine and sat against the wall once more. His eyes closed, and the quality of air around him changed.
Daine decided she might like to sit down for a while herself. Her legs folded before she told them to, and she never remembered hitting the ground.