―Hours ago, Sir Earl.‖
Herme paused. ―I like not this quiet, Gustus.‖
―Aye, sir. I know what you mean. The multitude outside is waiting. And more than
waiting. They are ready.‖
For what?
Herme looked at him, noting that, like the guard outside, Gustus was fully armed. ―How
many men stand as ready to fight as you?‖
―The city stands ready to fight,‖ Gustus said quietly.
―They may have to,‖ Herme murmured, then hit his fist on the windowsill in his
frustration. ―Gods! Where will they attack? ‖
And where was Zared? Where Drago?
Faraday hoped she would never have to repeat this experience again. It took over an hour
of walking among twitching, fetid bodies, placing each foot carefully so that she did not slip on
soft flesh or glimmering enchantment, before she found the three that Drago wanted.
She found Goldman in only the first few minutes. The Master of the Guilds was curled in
a tight ball only four or five ranks back from the now-silent Katie, covered in what appeared to
be a self-woven coat of twigs, leaves and the skins of at least four rabbits.
Faraday imagined they had not died well, but at least Goldman looked strong and
well-fed.
Gwendylyr was harder to find because she‘d crouched under a pile of gorse bushes torn
loose by the mass during its crawl towards Katie, but, she, too, looked in good condition,
although she had several scratches over one shoulder.
There were no signs of her two sons close to her.
Faraday found DareWing last. Like Goldman, he‘d tucked himself into a tight ball, and
then wrapped his wings about himself so that he was almost unrecognisable. They were tattered
and torn, as were his forearms and chest, and he breathed shallowly and rapidly, as if he‘d
developed a lung infection.
―Drago!‖ she called, and he carefully picked his way over.
Drago squatted down by the Strike Leader‘s head, pushing back the gossamer strands of
enchantment until the birdman‘s face was free.
DareWing snarled weakly, but made no move to bite or snap, or even to raise his head.
Drago put his hand on the birdman‘s forehead, then ran his hand gently down his cheek
to his chin, tipping DareWing‘s face to his so he could look him in the eye.
―Well?‖ Faraday asked.
―He has not done well crawling about the ground,‖ Drago murmured. ―He has picked up
a ground fever, and it has run rampant through his body.‖
―That was not what I asked,‖ Faraday said sharply.
Drago raised his eyes and stared at her. ―Do not blame me for every wrong that has ever
been visited on you, Faraday. I am guilty of many things, but of you I am innocent!‖
Faraday‘s face flushed and she dropped her eyes and turned her head slightly away from
him. Drago continued to stare at her for a few heartbeats, watching the flush on her cheeks and
neck deepen, then he relented. ―DareWing has had an ancestor somewhere in his
not-so-impeccable pedigree who strayed, it seems. He carries Acharite blood.
―But,‖ Drago dropped his eyes back to the birdman. ―His fever is very, very bad. He may
not live, whatever I do for him.‖
He fell silent, continuing to stare at DareWing, his fingers digging deep into the
birdman‘s chin.
Eventually, Drago sighed. ―I have no choice. DareWing could be the saving of this land if
he survives the fever.‖
―Why?‖
Drago looked back to Faraday. ―Are you sure you want to get into a conversation with
me, Faraday? Wouldn‘t that be dangerous? Might I not use the opportunity to imprison your soul
in the frightful chains of betrayal?‖
She said nothing, but her jaw tightened, and her eyes grew hard.
―All I want to offer you is love, Faraday. It is your choice whether or not you ever decide
to trust me.‖
Then he stood up, not giving her the opportunity to answer. He hefted the staff in his
hand and whistled to gain the attention of the feathered lizard, which sat by Katie‘s side.
It looked up, but did not move to join him.
Drago drew a symbol in the air, something far simpler than Faraday expected, and from
his spot by Katie the lizard retraced the symbol in the air with light, not once, but three times.
Three visible enchantments of a deep violet light appeared, one hovering over each of the
three Drago had selected.
He reached for the one over DareWing and pulled it down, wrapping it over the
birdman‘s hands. Then he gently disentangled the grey gossamer strands of the holding
enchantment until DareWing‘s entire body was freed.
―Help him up,‖ Drago said to Faraday. ―The enchantment about his wrists will make him
tractable, and he will obey whatever you tell him to do. Walk him through this crowd until you
reach the open space just behind Katie, then sit him down.‖
And before Faraday could answer, he‘d turned and walked away, signalling Leagh to join
him by Gwendylyr.
Faraday briefly watched him walk away, then bent down and pulled DareWing to his
feet. The birdman stumbled, but he stood obediently enough, and responded to Faraday‘s hand
on his arm.
―Come, DareWing,‖ she said, and led him through the twitching mass towards Katie.
As they made their careful way, Faraday saw that Leagh now led Gwendylyr towards the
same spot, and Drago was occupied with Goldman. By the time she had pulled DareWing into
the open, Leagh and Drago already had their charges waiting.
―Sit him down,‖ Drago said, and pointed to where Goldman and Gwendylyr sat. He
turned his back on her, busying himself with the sack at his side.
―Drago,‖ Faraday said, not moving to seat DareWing. ―I am sorry.‖
He slowly turned around. ―Do you trust me not to betray you?‖
Faraday‘s face worked, and her eyes filled with tears. She dropped her face.
―Noah told you to be my trust,‖ Drago said quietly. ― I am sorry you cannot do that.‖
―Faraday.‖ Now Leagh was beside her. ―Come, now, bring DareWing over.‖
Faraday nodded, and sat the birdman down. ―You must wonder what is going on,‖ she
said, quietly enough that Drago could not hear.
―I have been through it myself,‖ Leagh said gently. ―I do not need to wonder.‖ And she
patted Faraday‘s arm sympathetically.
Once Gwendylyr, Goldman and DareWing were seated in a close group, Drago and the
lizard worked the same enchantment they‘d executed for Leagh.
This time, both Faraday and Leagh—their cloaks whipping back in the wind to reveal
their simple white robes—helped him stretch the single enchantment over the three, and anchor
its edges to the ground so that they were enclosed.
Then Drago withdrew the mixing bowl from his sack, and, slowly circling the
enchantment, again drew pinch after pinch of what appeared to be dust from the sack which he
put in the bowl.
―Do you know what this is?‖ he asked the two women.
Leagh just shook her head, accepting that whatever Drago did was sorcery beyond her
ken, but Faraday thought deeply, her forehead creasing in a tiny frown.
―You have collected all sorts of things that you dropped into that sack,‖ she said. ―A
piece of bread that you took from Leagh, leaves from Minstrelsea forest, dirt from several
different places—‖
―A lock of your hair,‖ Drago said, and smiled a little at her.
Faraday ignored his smile. ―You have pieces of Tencendor in that sack.‖
―Yes.‖ Drago‘s smile widened fractionally. ―Good.‖
―You are using…Tencendor‘s magic, the magic of this land, to work this enchantment.‖
Faraday bit her lip, still thinking. ―But why Katie‘s blood?‖
The girl had now moved to Drago‘s side, a bright crimson drop welling on the tip of her
forefinger where the lizard had again obligingly pierced her skin.
―Don‘t you know?‖ Katie herself said, pausing to stare at Faraday.
Faraday shook her head, and the girl‘s face fell and she turned back to Drago silently, and
added her blood to the mixture.
Drago accepted the blood, kissing Katie gently on her forehead, then stirred the mixture
with his staff. Faraday opened her mouth, wanting to demand that either Katie or Drago tell her
what the blood symbolised, but she did not dare interrupt the enchantment, and so she closed her mouth and remained silent.
Drago lifted the staff from the bowl and traced its end over the lines of the enchantment.
Instantly the scene about them flickered and faded, and Faraday found herself standing
again in the field of flowers.
Turning, turning, turning as the flowers caught at her robe, turning to see the man who
smiled and held out his hand for her.
The Demonic Hour of dawn had passed, and Herme took the opportunity to walk off
some of his frustration and sense of impending doom to inspect the city‘s defences and state of
readiness against…against whatever it was that that howling horde outside might have planned
for them.
Herme sincerely hoped that Drago and Zared would get back before the expectation in