They waited in the courtyard as castle hostlers brought out Darkmoon, Spots, and horses belonging to the King’s Own. Here, shading her eyes from the sun, the girl saw the first repercussions of what she had done. The stable hands had liked to talk to her, before the enemy invasion. Now they avoided her glance and kept well away from her.
A small explosion struck her back and almost knocked her off her feet. It was followed by a second, and a third. Whatever the hostlers might think, Roald, Kally, and Thom were glad to see her up. Her eyes stinging, Daine knelt to return the hug. “There, there,” she whispered, more to herself than the children. “It’s all right. It’s over.”
“Can we go too, Ma?” Thom asked the Lioness as she approached.
“No, my dears. Some other time. We’re not sure the enemy is completely gone.” The knight grinned at Daine. “You’ve been a busy girl.”
Daine grinned back. “So have you.” Looking at the men of the King’s Own who followed Alanna, she recognized Hakim and his companions. “It’s good to see you,” she told them.
“The honor is ours,” Hakim replied gravely.
“You said it was urgent?” Numair reminded her.
The group left the castle at a trot, following Daine. The vision’s lure was powerful in her mind. Following it, she guided Cloud onto a road that ran along the cliff face, high above the sea. Gulls followed them, filling the air with their cries.
Alanna drew level with the girl. “I’ve yet to thank you,” she said quietly. “I never thought you’d have to keep your promise in such a way.”
She smiled at the knight. “What happened? They lured you off, didn’t they?”
Alanna nodded. “The ogres were real enough. They kept us busy for more than a day. By the time we felt we could return, there was a small army between us and home. Lucky for me Hakim rode in with two companies of the Own. They were still in Corus when Numair sent word you were up to your eyeballs in trouble.”
Daine held up a hand: they were close. Listening, she dismounted. “Stay put,” she ordered Cloud.
Numair came after her on foot. “What are we looking for, exactly?”
She was about to say she wasn’t sure when the ground dropped under her. For a second time she had the doubtful pleasure of being picked up to hang in midair—this time, at least, she wasn’t half-drowned. Looking down, she saw she had almost gone through the roof of a cave that opened in the cliff face.
“Can you set me down in there?” She wasn’t sure who had her, Alanna or Numair. “I found it.”
The Lioness chuckled. “You have a unique way of finding things.” Gently Daine was lowered through the hole she had made, until she was on the stone floor of the cave below.
There was a rustle nearby, and a chirp. A silver shape, no bigger than a large cat, came over on legs that hadn’t yet mastered the skill of walking.
She knelt. The little creature stared at her with slit-pupiled blue eyes. Tiny, scaled forepaws gripped her breeches: the baby dragon pulled herself up onto her hind legs.
Daine’s eyes brimmed with tears. “I’m sorry,” she told the dragonet. “I guess I’m your ma now.” She scooped up the armful of kit and looked up at the hole she’d made in the roof. Alanna, Numair, and Hakim stared down at her. “The dragon had a little one,” she explained. “She’s hungry.”
Carefully the Lioness raised her and the dragonet up through the hole, to stand them on solid ground.
Daine managed to construct a bottle that would hold up under the kit’s small, but sharp, teeth. After consulting with the healer Maude, she warmed goat’s milk and loaded it with butter, to make it even richer. The dragonet gulped a pint of the mess, burped, and fell asleep in Daine’s lap.
The entire operation was watched, in awe and fascination, by the queen, Alanna, George, Numair, Buri, Onua, Maude, and the children.
Gently Kally ran a finger along the sleeping animal’s flank. “She so soft,” the girl whispered. “What’s her name?”
“Skysong,” Daine said. She frowned—where had that knowledge come from? “I guess her ma passed that on to me too, before she—died.” Coming to a decision, she looked at Onua. “I don’t think I can stay with the Riders past the summer. My duty’s to this little one, now.”
“You can still make your home with us,” Thayet told her. “That is, if you wish. I know my lord and I would prefer to have you in the palace.”
Daine stared at her. “Me?”
“You.” Thayet took her hand. “Veralidaine Sarrasri, you saved my life and the lives of my children. A home is the very least we can offer you.”
Daine lowered her head, to hide her beet red face.
“But we want her to live here,” objected George. “Surely we’re more suited as a home, bein’ on the sea and near Master Numair and all.” He grinned. “And bein’s how our girl’s made so many friends in our woods.”
“I don’t see why she can’t live in my tower,” Numair protested. “She is my apprentice, after all.”
“A girl’s got to have females to talk to,” Alanna informed him. “You haven’t even gotten a new housekeeper since the last one interrupted one of your experiments.”
“Come live in the palace,” Kally and Roald begged, tugging her arm. “We’ll be good forever and ever if you will.”
Skysong sneezed and shifted in Daine’s lap.
“Shh,” Maude ordered. “You’ll wake the baby.” The children hushed, guilty faced.
“You don’t have to decide now,” Onua pointed out. “I don’t see why rearing Skysong should interfere with helping me this summer.”
Daine looked at these unusual people who had become friends, and laughed. “It’s fair funny,” she explained. “I’ve gone from having no home to having too many!”
The Lioness smiled and put a hand on her shoulder. “Welcome to Tortall,” she said.
Turn the page for a preview
from the second book in
THE IMMORTALS series:
WOLF-SPEAKER
The wolves of the Long Lake Pack, gorged on a careless mountain sheep, slept as they digested their meal. Only Brokefang, their chieftain, was awake to see the moon rise. He sat on a stone outcrop, thinking—an odd pastime for a wolf. In the last full moon of summer, on the advice of Old White, the wolf god, he had sent his best travelers, Fleetfoot and Russet, in search of a two-legger who once belonged to his pack. Their orders were to bring her to him, to speak to the local humans on his behalf. The sight of that night’s full autumn moon reminded him that winter was coming. What if his messengers couldn’t find Daine? What if something had happened to them?
He did not like “what if” thoughts. Until he’d met Daine two winters before, he had worried about nothing but eating, mating, ruling his pack, and scratching fleas. Now he had complex thoughts all the time, whether he wanted them or not.
Soft chatter overhead made him look up. Two bats had met a stranger. Clinging to a branch over his head, the three traded gossip in the manner of their kind. The newcomer brought word of a two-legger on the other side of the mountains, one who was human outside and Beast-People inside. She carried news from bats in the southwest, and if a Long Lake bat was hurt, she could heal him with her magic. She traveled in odd company: two horses, a pony, an extremely tall human male, a big lizard, and two wolves.
The local bats exclaimed over the news. Their colony should hear this, they decided. Would the visitor come and tell them in their cave-home? Along with their guest, the bats took to the air.
Brokefang stretched. One new thought had been that he could learn much if he lis
tened to the talk of nonwolves. Now he could see it was a good thought, so perhaps the others were good, too. He was interested to hear that Daine also had learned new things since leaving the pack. Before, she could not talk directly with bats. Her healing was done with stinging liquids, needles, thread, and splints, not magic.
He stopped in midstretch as he remembered something. When Fleetfoot and Russet had gone, the pack was laired near the valley’s southern entrance, where a river flowed from the lake. While they eventually could find the new den in the valley’s western mountains, it might take them days to locate the pack.
He would take his wolves south and guide his visitors home.
Two days later, the girl called Daine watched rain fall outside the cave where she and her friends had taken refuge. For someone Brokefang regarded as Pack, she looked quite human. She was five foot five, slim for her fourteen and a half years, with blue-gray eyes the color of the clouds overhead. Her curly brown hair was tightly pinned up, her clothes as practical as her hairstyle: a blue cotton shirt, tan breeches, and soft-soled boots. Around her neck a heavy silver claw hung on a leather thong.
She played with the claw, thinking. She had been born in mountains like these, in a town called Snowsdale over the border in Galla. The first twelve years of her life were spent there, before she lost her family. When she left Galla to serve the king and queen of Tortall, she had hoped that she might never see the mountains again. And here she was, in a place that could be Snowsdale’s twin.
Soon she would be with the wolves that had hunted in her old home. They had left soon after she did: Fleetfoot and Russet, her guides, had told of fleeing human hunters to find their new home by the Long Lake. What would it be like to see them again? To be with them again?
“What are you thinking of?” a light male voice asked from deeper inside the cave. “You look grim.”
Daine turned around. Seated cross-legged by the fire, a traveling desk on his knees, was her teacher, the wizard Numair Salmalín. He wore his springy mass of black hair tied into a horsetail, away from his dark face and out of his brown eyes. His ink brush was dwarfed by the hand that held it, an exceptionally large hand that was graceful in spite of its size.