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He’d’ve been happier with one of the old stone arches out of the ancient legions’ time; stone lasted, and that long-ago empire’d known about engineering. This particular bridge, unnervingly new, suggested breaks and rebuilding. The sword at his back couldn’t help with that.
Emrys, mysteriously avoiding guard duty, materialized at his side. Her knives were neatly hidden. “I can’t sense anything.”
“Is that good, or the opposite?”
“One of those. She wants me alongside her wagon.”
Aric eyed the bridge. “Is it wide enough?”
“No. I said we’d go first, if she didn’t mind that.” Starlight, at Em’s back—not on a lead; Starlight accompanied her person without prompting—nosed Em’s shoulder; Em reached up for a quick scratch. “You’re riding with me.”
“Ah,” Aric said, and went to untie Ginger, who seemed thoroughly unbothered by rampaging rivers or potential magic. “Shall we?”
They did. The wagons circled; mud and dirt flecked the air. Revna and Asni gathered, traded jokes, set up a rear formation. The Lady Caris leaned out to beckon Emrys, a jeweled hand framed by curtains. Em went; and came back with very straight shoulders, tense.
“What happened?”
“She said to be careful.”
“A warning?”
“Possibly. She didn’t say it like one, though of course that might not mean anything.”
“Some sort of test?”
“More likely. I’ll do something if I have to.”
Of course you will, Aric thought. Saving people. Why Emrys wanted this life, completely aside from everything they meant to each other. He understood. “I’ll be right there next to you.”
They went, cautiously. The bridge was not too long, but slick with spray, and no one wanted to lose Lady Caris’s delivery. Water flung itself wildly from the Haver Falls and surrounding rapids; Aric’s face and hair got wet. Wood creaked underfoot.
Emrys and Starlight, beside him, stopped in place. About two-thirds of the way across, maybe a bit less.
Aric stopped as well, which meant the entire caravan stopped. “Em?”
Lady Caris opened her curtains again: curious, interested, or plotting. Revna called from the back, “Shadow, what’s the problem?”
Em swung herself lightly down from Starlight’s back. Took two steps back toward the center of the bridge. Put out a hand.
Lady Caris emerged from her wagon. In a bundle of pale gold and blue cloth, hair in a businesslike gilded knot, she said nothing: merely watched Emrys.
Em turned that direction. Eyes suddenly wider in her pale face. “It’s about you—”
Wood shrieked. The bridge twisted. Posts snapped. Planks buckled.
Tortured oak gave way. Bent. Shattered under wagon-wheels and horse-hooves. Hurled shattering shards of wood in every direction.
Except—
It stopped.
Because Emrys had flung both hands out, fingers spread. Invisible thrumming power spread outward. Aric felt it. Everyone felt it.
The world felt it. The bridge, mid-twist, froze.
Em’s breath was a hiss of pain. Some piece of flying wood had caught her cheek, a long ugly slice; it was healing, but dripping red. That wasn’t her priority. “Get everyone across right now.”
She hadn’t undone the corkscrew of wood; Aric wasn’t sure she could. But she could hold it, and keep it stable for now. He shouted, “All right, go!”
