Part 13 (2/2)

”You are. They will do what they say and attempt to convince the Elves of the danger. But they can only do so much. Word must still be gotten to the other villages, to the other communities, to all the Races. Everyone needs to come together and decide what to do.”

He nodded. ”Can you help me with that? Do you have friends whom you can trust and can send as messengers, warning of the danger? I know I ask a lot ...”

She placed her fingers quickly to his lips. ”You ask little enough, Sider. I will do what I can. But you must promise to go after our young friends and see to it that they are protected. They escaped once, but I am not sure they are safe yet. Skeal Eile is not one to forget. He knows the danger they represent, and he may try to do something to put an end to it-and to them-even as far away as they are. He is a ruthless man.”

Sider nodded, and they were silent for a moment, looking at each other in the darkness. ”I don't like leaving you here,” he said finally. ”I think you should come with me. To Arborlon or somewhere else. But away.”

She shook her head. ”You don't have the right to ask that of me anymore, Sider.” Her smile was wan and tight. ”You gave it up when you chose that staff over me.”

He glanced down at the talisman, tightly gripped in one hand, and then he looked back at her. ”I know what I gave up. A day doesn't pa.s.s that I don't think of it. Not a day that I don't regret it and wish it could have been otherwise. That I don't ...”

He trailed off. ”I just don't want anything to happen to you.”

She gave him a perplexed look. ”How strange to hear you say so. I've had that same worry about you every single day since you left me. You might want to consider that after you're gone.”

He stared at her, his words all drained away.

Then she rose. ”I think we've said all there is to say, Sider. Thank you for coming to let me know what's happened to the wall. And for promising to look after Panterra and Prue.” She stepped back. ”I should leave now. I can go back alone.”

But she stood where she was, looking at him, as if undecided. ”Please be careful,” he said.

She nodded, but still said nothing and still did not move.

Without looking away, he laid the staff against the makes.h.i.+ft bench and reached for her, enfolding her in his arms, pressing her against him. He felt the softness and warmth of her, and for just an instant it was twenty years ago. ”I never stopped loving you,” he whispered. ”I never will.”

”I know,” she whispered back, her head buried in his shoulder.

”I'm so sorry.”

”There's no need. Not anymore.”

She broke away from him, turned quickly, and went back down the path that had brought them. She took long, purposeful strides, and her long hair swung from side to side like a dusky curtain.

She did not look back.

SIXTEEN.

PAN! WAKE UP!”

A familiar voice, hushed and urgent. It was both close and at the same time a long way off, indistinct and fuzzy. He tried to put a name to it and failed.

”Pan! Please!”

Prue. He blinked against the woolly darkness that wrapped him like a blanket and opened his eyes. She was looking at him from only inches away, her eyes huge and gleaming in a wash of firelight. Her face was tight with fear.

”Are you all right?” she whispered.

Good question, he thought. His head was pounding and he was trussed hand and foot with ropes. He tried to remember what had happened. Something big and black had fallen on him while they were stalking the builders of the fire. Prue had sensed its presence, they had tried to escape, the black thing had ...

A cloud of acrid smoke blew past him from the fire as the wind s.h.i.+fted. Sparks erupted from the blaze in a bright shower, and he caught a glimpse of huge bodies standing all around him, leaning on clubs and spears, shoulders hunched. Somewhere farther off voices argued. He could not make out the words, but there was no mistaking the tone.

Then a wolfish head swung into view directly in front of him, and he caught his breath. Yellow eyes fixed on him as jaws split wide in a lean muzzle to reveal rows of white teeth. A tongue licked and lolled alternately from between hooked incisors. He could smell the beast's fetid breath, could feel the heat of its humped, s.h.a.ggy body as it moved to block his view, eyeing him as it might a piece of raw meat. Some sort of wolf? A feral dog? He couldn't tell; he only knew that he had never seen anything like it. He shrank from it, pressing himself up against Prue.

The beast regarded him a moment, looked deep into his eyes as if seeking something, and then turned away and moved off, joining another of its kind, a second beast that looked exactly the same, a few yards off. They touched noses, giving greeting. Tongues licked out, and muzzles rubbed affectionately.

”That was what jumped on you and knocked you down,” Prue whispered over his shoulder. ”You hit your head on a rock and lost consciousness. Then the Lizards took us both.”

Lizards, Panterra repeated silently. He was conscious suddenly of the source of the insistent throbbing: a sharp pain that emanated from a point far up on his forehead. It was there he had hit his head; he could feel a small trickle of blood running down his face. He tried to reach up to feel the wound, but his hands were tied around his waist, and he couldn't raise them.

”It isn't too bad,” Prue a.s.sured him. ”Mostly, it's just a big knot.”

Mostly. Pan shook his head. He wasn't sure if he was more angry or embarra.s.sed, being caught like this. He should have known better than to listen to Phryne Amarantyne. There was no good reason for him to have done what he did, coming out of cover and exposing himself just to see who had built a fire. But it was wrong to blame the Elven Princess; he was the one who had made the decision, the one who had given in when he should have known better.

He wondered suddenly where she was, where the Orullians were, too, for that matter. Did they realize what had happened to Prue and himself? Had they tried to come after them when they didn't return? Had they sought a way to save them? He looked around more carefully, scanning the darkness, but he didn't see anything.

He felt Prue edge closer, positioning herself so that she could whisper in his ear. ”They were waiting for us, Pan. They built and lit the campfire as a trap. It's some kind of game, I think. There were dozens of them in hiding, but they were too far away and too well concealed for me to detect. It was those beasts that did all the work. It was too late to do anything by the time I sensed them. They stalked us, cornered us, and knocked you down, and then the Lizards came, too.”

”Why do you say it's a game?” he asked. ”Did they tell you this?”

She shook her head. ”They haven't told me anything. They speak a language I don't understand. It isn't like the one the Lizards speak in the valley. These Lizards are different in other ways, too. They don't look or dress the same. Their skin is different-darker, coa.r.s.er, like tree bark. They don't dress the same, either. They wear armor and carry s.h.i.+elds.” She paused. ”I think maybe they are part of an army.”

”But you think this was some sort of game that got us captured?”

”Just the way they acted when they saw us. Just how they moved and talked. They laughed a bit, pointed at us, made fun of the beasts that had us pinned. They seemed to be having fun.” She gestured suddenly. ”Except for the two over there. Those two, they don't seem happy at all. I think from the way the others treat them they might be the leaders. They've been arguing ever since they found us. I don't know why.”

Pan looked at the two figures standing nose-to-nose some distance off, the first a little taller than the second, the second a little more aggressive. They were shouting now, the second gesturing toward their captives, the first giving him a look and a shrug. The taller was very black and very lean, not so burly and ma.s.sive as the shorter or the Lizards with them. In the darkness, the fire crackled as someone fed it wood while the others stood idly by, watching the argument.

”If I could loosen these knots ...” Pan trailed off and began working his wrists about experimentally, but the knots held.

”If you could loosen those knots and somehow make it to your feet, those beasts would be on top of you in about five seconds,” Prue pointed out. ”I don't think you want that.”

He glanced over at the wolfish creatures. They were sitting on their haunches, gleaming eyes fixed and eager. As if antic.i.p.ating that he might make the effort to flee and give them some sport. Pan watched them for a minute, and then gave up trying to free himself. Prue was right; there wasn't any point to it.

Then all at once the argument between the two Lizards ended, and the shorter of the two stomped over to where they were tied up and glowered down at them. There was a darkness in his gaze that left Pan feeling cold. He seemed very young, his skin still smooth in places and his features almost boyish. But there was nothing about him to suggest that he was in any way friendly or inclined to be helpful. Animosity radiated off him in bright waves. If Pan had wondered for a moment whether the Lizards might reconsider and let them go, he abandoned all such thoughts now.

All at once the Lizard began shouting at them, so furious that he was spitting. His words were indecipherable, although it seemed that he was asking them questions, demanding that they answer. Both pulled back in the face of his wrath, unable to respond in any other way. Furious, he kicked Pan in the ribs, glared at them one last time, and turned back to the other Lizard, shouting now at him.

The taller one walked over to join him, taking his time. The build of his body and the definition of his facial features suggested he was older, more mature, and he did not seem angry like the other. He was calm as he studied them, standing with his still-furious companion, his dark eyes taking in everything about them.

Then he spoke, a few words only in their own language, and the other, after a moment's hesitation, walked away. They saw him move over to the gimlet-eyed beasts and reach down to ruffle their ears. The beasts growled appreciatively.

The newcomer knelt next to them, bending close. ”Can you understand me?” he asked, speaking their tongue in something that approached a mix of a growl and a cough.

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