The docks were there, and so were the boats, including those used by the slaves to catch fresh fish for their master’s table. Lorryn and Rena untied the stiff, water-soaked ropes that held one of the boats to the dock at stern and prow; Myre stood in the middle of the boat and pushed it away from the dock with a long pole at Lorryn’s direction. There were oars, but with this storm sending so much water into the river, they didn’t need them. The current caught the light boat right away; with Lorryn at the rudder, it moved out into the center of the river with ever-increasing swiftness. It was left to Myre and Rena to bail out the bottom while Lorryn steered.
How long until we’re off Father’s land? Rena wondered fretfully, as she scooped water out of the bottom with a canvas bucket and tossed it over the side. Not only was rain continuing to pour down on them, the boat itself leaked at every seam; it was all she and Myre could do to keep the water level from rising dangerously. How long until the Council members are told that Lorryn is missing? What will they do when they know? Will they go back to the Council and report him or—She could not think of an alternative. She could not think of anything at the moment—
“There they are!”
The shout rang across the water from the bank; Rena looked up, startled, through a short swath of dripping, rainsoaked hair.
On the bank were riders, all elves, in full armor. One of them was pointing directly at them. Rena felt a tingle along her nerves, a shiver along her skin that had nothing to do with the cold.
Lorryn swore. “They know it’s us,” he said, shortly. They’re using magic to identify us.”
And was their magic strong enough to seize the runaways—or even kill them here and now?
Myre looked around frantically, as if for a weapon or a means of escape. “Can’t you make this thing go any faster?” she shrieked over the pouring rain and the thunder.
Of course he can! He has the power—”Do it!” Rena urged. “It can’t matter; they already know it’s us and where we are! Hurry!”
Lorryn dashed his hair out of his eyes with an impatient hand and let go of the rudder. He raised both hands over his head, as the riders on the bank milled, then retreated, obviously expecting an attack.
They must be some of Father’s underlings, or they’d attack us now—
“Hold on!” Lorryn shouted. Rena obeyed instantly, knowing from experience that Lorryn never issued a warning unless it was necessary.
Myre didn’t respond immediately, however; she was still looking around fruitlessly for a weapon or a means of protection.
With a crack and a flash of light, the boat suddenly lurched forward, throwing Rena into the bottom. If she hadn’t been holding on to the side with both hands, she’d have been thrown overboard.
Just as Myre was.
Rena let go with one hand and snatched for the slave’s clothing as the girl tumbled past her and over the side; too late. The last she saw of Myre was the girl’s face floating above the water, vanishing behind the curtain of rain, as the boat accelerated with twice the speed of a running horse.
“Stop!” Rena shouted to her brother. “We’ve lost Myre!”
He shook his head regretfully, hands still held over his head, face creased with concentration. “I can’t!” he shouted back. “Once I let this thing loose, it goes until it runs out by itself!”
Rena looked back; Myre was out of sight, and the elven riders mere dots on the riverbank—a moment later, they vanished, too, in the gray sheets of water pouring from the heavens. The boat was still picking up speed.
They were on their own, and her heart contracted with fear.
The boat didn’t slacken speed until they had passed out of the storm and were well into some of the untamed lands held by no elven overlord. By then, Lorryn’s face was gray with exhaustion, and Rena’s hands ached with the effort of holding on to the sides. The river was full of debris, and Lorryn had been forced to make several abrupt corrections to their course to avoid hitting any of it, corrections that would have thrown her out of the boat to be left behind like Myre.
Finally, when the spell at last ran out, Lorryn used the slackening momentum, took the rudder and brought them in to the southern bank of the river, they both pitched their packs into the underbrush and clambered clumsily over the side onto the low bank. Lorryn pushed the boat away with a branch and let the river take it again; they stared after it until it disappeared.
“With any luck, they won’t be able to guess where we put ashore even when they find it,” Lorryn said, shouldering his pack. “That should give us some time, I hope.”
Rena shrugged into her own pack, wishing it held something dry and warm to wear. She was so cold now that she had stopped shivering; the cold went all the way down to her bones. She couldn’t have shivered now if she wanted to; fear and chill held her in a kind of choked silence and stillness. “Now where do we go?” she asked timidly, trying not to sound as if she was accusing Lorryn of anything. “We lost Myre.”
He sighed, and stared off into the forest. “Well, she said the dragons weren’t far. Didn’t she say they were south of here?”
Rena didn’t remember anything of the kind, but it hardly mattered. One direction was as good as another, as long as they went away from those who were hunting them. She made a gesture of hopeless bafflement. “Can you—do you know if there’s anyone around here? Anyone who might come after us?”
She was so afraid—so very afraid. Enemies behind them, the unknown all about them, and their guide lost beyond hope of finding again—what could they do?
“Any elves, you mean? I don’t think it’s safe to use elven magic, but there’s that human trick of listening for thoughts that I can try.” He closed his eyes, and his face took on that “listening” look. “I can’t sense anything but the minds of animals. We should be safe enough for a while. Maybe safe enough to find some shelter, build a fire, get dry.”
Dry and warm. Dared she hope that they might escape after all? Right now, simply being dry and warm sounded like paradise. “You had better lead,” she told him. “You’ve hunted, you know what to look out for. And you’re the one with the weapons.”
At that reminder, he checked his bow, found it useless, and drew his knife instead. He looked as if he was about to say something else, frowned as if he thought better of it, and led the way into the underbrush.
There’s no one within range of Lorryn’s mind. For now, we’re safe, she told her pounding heart, her sinking spirit. We can escape. We can!
Rena followed behind him, wishing she weren’t carrying a huge weight of water along with the pack, wishing this were all a nightmare. As fear ebbed, other discomforts began. Her stomach ached with hunger, and her shoulders hurt where the pack-straps cut into them. Right now, marriage to Lord Gildor didn’t seem like such a bad thing after all…
They might have come out of the storm, but the day was still overcast, and every tree dripped water down onto the deer path Lorryn had found. She had thought she couldn’t be any colder or more miserable, but every time another branch sent a load of cold drops down the back of her neck, she discovered she was only beginning to learn what misery meant. Her boots didn’t quite fit, despite all the stockings she wore, and she was getting a blister on one heel. She could hardly feel her fingers.
She kept her eyes on her feet and the path in front of her, as her legs began to ache, joining her aching shoulders. And a headache began as well.
She was so wet, so cold. If only she dared use a little magic—
Well, why not?
My magics are so small… I can at least make myself a little warmer, a little drier. Surely no one will notice that.
She narrowed her concentration, and insinuated her magics into her clothing, working from the skin out, and the feet up, driving the water out of the fabric, fiber by fiber. It was something like flower-sculpting, after all; just shoving the water away from where she didn’t want it, slowly and patiently. When it reached the surface of her clothing, she let it bead up and run off.
At least while she was concentrating on that, it was easier to ignore her aching legs and shoulders.