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"Richard!" Sister Verna screamed from behind. "In the name of the Creator, watch where you are going! Don't you see what you are leading that horse into!"
"I'm not leading her," he called out over the sound of thundering hooves. "She is picking her own course."
The Sister galloped up beside him, her eyebrows knit together in fury. "Are you insane! Look at where you are headed!"
Richard snatched a glance. They were rushing headlong for the edge of a cliff.
"Close your eyes, Sister."
"Have you lost your..."
"Close your eyes! It's a vision. A vision of a fear we all have in common—falling. Just like we both saw snakes."
"The snakes were real! If you are wrong we will be killed!"
"Close your eyes. If it is really there, the horses won't run over the edge of a cliff." He hoped he was right about that.
"Unless it is really there, and the magic shows them a vision of flat ground so as to kill us!"
"If we stay, we die! We have no choice!"
He heard a growled curse from her as she hauled in on her left rein, trying to turn her horse, but Jessup stayed with Bonnie. Bonnie was leading; Jessup and Geraldine wouldn't leave her.
"I told you destroying those bits was foolish! We can't control them! They are running away with us!"
"I told you I would save you. Destroying those bits is what will save you. My eyes are closed. If you want to live, close yours!"
Sister Verna was silent as the three horses thundered on. Richard's eyes were squeezed shut. When he judged they should be at the brink he held his breath. He prayed that the good spirits would be with him this time.
His legs tingled in anticipation of plummeting over a cliff. He tried not to think of what it would be like on the way down. Shared fear, that's all it was. He realized he was holding Bonnie's mane in a death grip. He relaxed his fingers but kept his eyes closed.
The plunge didn't come.
The three horses galloped on. He did nothing to slow them, but let them run as they would. They were in a frisky mood from grazing all day and he could tell they were enjoying the run. They were running for the sheer joy of it.
After a time, Richard realized that the sound of their hooves was changing. It wasn't as sharp; it had grown softer.
"Richard! We are out of the valley!"
He looked back over his shoulder to see the wisp of dark storm clouds boiling at the edge of the horizon. The golden sun hung low in the sky over the grassy undulating ground beneath them. Their horses slowed to a canter.
"Are you sure? Are you sure we are away from it?"
She nodded. "This is the Old World. I know this place."
"But it could still be an illusion, to give us confidence, and trap us before we are clear."
"Must you always question what I tell you? I can feel it with my Han. This is no illusion. We are safely out of the valley and away from its magic. It cannot reach us now."
Richard wondered briefly if she could still be an illusion. But he, too, sensed that the danger was no longer there. He leaned forward and gave Bonnie's warm neck a big hug.
The immense hills they were entering were barren of trees, covered with clumps of grass and wild flowers, the low places sprinkled throughout with sandy colored rocks. The sun shined warmly, but it no longer scorched the land. Richard laughed into the wind at his face.
He grinned at Sister Verna, but she wasn't smiling. Her brow was creased with a scowl as she scanned the sweep of hills before them.
"Wipe that grin off your face," she snapped.
"I'm just happy we made it. I'm happy you're alive, Sister."
"If you had any idea how angry I am with you right now, Richard, you would not be quite so pleased I am still with you. Take this advice seriously: You would be doing yourself a great favor, right now, if you kept that tongue of yours still."
He could only shake his head.
33
"You must cut off my arm."
Zedd drew the sleeve of the sky blue, satin robe down her arm, covering the wound that wouldn't heal, and the faint green glow of her flesh.
"I'm not cutting off your arm, Adie. How many times do I have to tell you?"
He set the cut-glass lamp back on a side table inlaid with silver worked in floral patterns, next to the tray of brown bread and half-eaten lamb stew, and strolled across the carpets, to draw the heavy, embroidered curtains back a bit with a thin finger. He peered, without seeing, out the frost laced window, at the dark street. The glow from the fire in the outer room cast a warm, dim light through the open double doors. The rooms were fairly quiet, considering the size of the crowd down in the dining room.
The Ram's Horn did a bustling business despite being the dead of winter, or perhaps because of it. The open road was no place to sleep in this cold and snow, and trade couldn't stop simply because of the season. Merchants, drivers and travelers of every sort filled this inn, as well as all the others in Penverro.
He and Adie had been lucky to find lodging. Or perhaps the innkeeper had been the lucky one, lucky that someone would come along who was willing to pay the outrageous price he asked for his finest rooms.
But the price of the rooms did not concern Zedd; producing the required price in gold was no problem for a wizard of the First Order. He had real problems, though. The gash where the skrin had cut Adie with its claw wasn't healing. In fact, it was getting worse. And it would do no good trying to use more magic to cure the wound; magic was the trouble.
"Listen to me, old man." Adie levered herself up in the bed, onto one elbow. "It be the only way to stop it. You have tried, and I do not fault your efforts. But if we don't stop it, I will die. What be one arm, compared to my life? If you do not have the courage, then give me a knife. I can do the work myself."
He scowled over his shoulder. "Of that, dear lady, I have no doubt. But it would do no good, I'm afraid."
"What do you mean?" she asked in a low rasp.
He plucked a cold chunk of lamb from the gold rimmed bowl
and popped it in his mouth before he hiked his lavish robes up a bit and sat on the edge of the bed. He took up her good hand as he chewed. It seemed thin and frail, but he knew her to be more the stuff of iron.
"Adie, do you know anyone with knowledge of this sort of taint?"
She ignored his question. "Why do you say it will do no good?"
Zedd patted her hand. "Answer the question. Do you know anyone who would know anything about this?"
"I would have to think on it some, but I do not think there be anyone still alive who would have such knowledge. You be a wizard, who would know better than you? Wizards be healers." She took back her hand. "And what do you mean cutting off the arm would do no good?" She was silent a moment, and then her eyes widened. "You mean it be too late...?"
Zedd stood and turned away from her. He put a hand on his bony hip as he considered the options. There was not much to consider.
"Think on it, Adie, and do so with haste. This is beyond my knowledge, and it is serious."
He heard the bed squeak as Adie sank back down onto the pillows. She released a tired sigh.
"Then, I be dead. At least my spirit will be with my Pell, at last. You must go on now. Do not waste any more time. I have already slowed you too much, been in this bed too many days. You must get to Aydindril. Please, Zedd, don't let me be responsible for what will happen if you don't get to Aydindril. Go help Richard, and leave me to my end."
"Adie, please do as I ask, and think. Who would be able to help us?"
Too late, he realized he had just made a mistake. He winced and waited for what he knew what was coming.
He heard the bedsprings squeak again. "Us?"
"I simply mean..."
She snatched the sleeve of his fine robes and spun him around. Her brow was set in a serious scowl. She gave a firm tug, forcing him to sit on the bed next to her. Her eyes seemed more pink than white in the lamplight, yet he could see the dim haze of green in them.
"Us?" she repeated. This time it came out in a growling rasp. "And you complain about the small secrets a sorceress would choose to keep to herself! Out with it, or I will make you sorry you dragged me along with you."
