Otrick. As I picked my way between the spines of the bush I thought about the old wizard. I had liked him, he wasn’t some cloak carrier for Planir, polishing up his Council seat with a well-padded rump. When Otrick wanted to learn about the winds and currents of the ocean, he’d taken up with a pirate ship. Elietimm enchantment had him in a deathless, lifeless sleep now, struck down as he’d used his powers to stop the bastards slaughtering the hapless colonists of Kellarin. So there was someone else depending on us finding out the secrets of aetheric magic.
We foraged for a while longer but discovered nothing more than the fact that the height of summer is a bad time to try living off the land. This side of the turn of autumn, flowers and bitter green berries were just a mocking promise of fruitfulness to come. In glum accord, we headed back to the others.
“This is all we could find.” I divided up the spoils into waiting hands, giving Usara the prince’s portion. We all ate hungrily, but the berries did little to fill our bellies. I wondered crossly where those cursed horses had gone. I didn’t relish the prospect of a journey through the Forest without sustaining food, water we could trust or ideally a change of linen. Wishing to no avail for something more to eat, I wiped my hands on my stained shirt and looked around the dejected circle. “So, what now?”
“We get instructions from Planir,” said Usara glumly.
“We need to scry more widely, find out just how many are arming,” mused Darni. “If it’s just a single kindred with an itch to scratch, that’s one thing. If it’s every valley this side of the heights, we’re in for a bloody autumn.”
“You do as you see fit,” I told the pair of them. “I came on this trip to find aetheric lore and I’m not quitting on that.”
“That game’s finished, Livak,” snapped Usara, “all the runes rolled and done. We’re as empty in the pocket as we were when we started.”
“Then it’s time to gather the bones for another hand,” I told him. “Losses only count if you have to walk away from the table bearing them. As long as you’re playing, you can set about winning your coin back.” And if necessary, you set about making your own luck, if the run of the runes is against you. Especially if the other player is already scraping the odds.
“And how do you propose to set about that?” Darni’s tone quite plainly anticipated that I had no real idea.
“Has Planir got anywhere closer to finding a means of waking Otrick?” I demanded of Usara.
“No,” he sighed heavily. “We tried everything Guinalle could suggest over the winter. We failed and unless Planir’s forgotten to tell me, no one has unearthed any scholarship that might help since.”
“I bet that Elietimm enchanter knows how,” I said. “Knowledge may not be a silver cup to steal, but we could try stealing the head it’s held in, couldn’t we?”
Usara looked at me with mingled disbelief and irritation but Darni’s dark eyes were lit with interest.
“Well, we could, couldn’t we?” I insisted. “And we could probably find out just what the Mountain Men are up to. And what pots that Elietimm bastard is stirring. And we could probably find answers to most of the questions about aetheric magic that Guinalle can’t answer. We know these warding incantations of Guinalle’s work now. As long as we get the drop on the Ice Islander, he won’t have a chance to try his tricks.” And I could prove to myself once and for all that Elietimm enchantments need not be feared with the nausea that bastard had planted in the back of my mind. “We had him once before and we can get him again. Tied up and knocked out, he’ll be no more trouble than any other sack of shit.”
“I forbid it, absolutely!” Usara made the mistake of trying to stand up and gasped at the pain.
“Saedrin grant he’s already through the door to the Otherworld,” said Darni slowly.
“If Raeponin’s doing his job,” I agreed fervently. “But what if he’s not?”
“How do we find out?” demanded Darni.
“This.” I dug in my belt-pouch and held up the little knife. “It belonged to the Sheltya woman. She’s been with him before; she’ll be with him again. Usara can find her and we find him.”
“The one who dismissed us from the uplands?” Usara was aghast. “You stole from her?”
“You don’t think she realized it was you?” Darni glowered in the bullying manner I remembered all too well. “You don’t think that’s what brought them down on us?”
“Five fives of men, all armed to the teeth and out for blood, just for a pocket blade and after waiting right around the greater moon and start again?” I raised an eyebrow at him. “I hardly think so. I doubt she’s even missed it, and if she does she’ll think she just lost it when the leather snapped.” I waved the tattered end at him and grinned at Gilmarten, who was looking quite nonplussed.
“If Livak cuts your purse after lunch, you won’t know about it till you try to pay the reckoning for your supper,” Sorgrad told Darni firmly.
“I’m here on the authority of the Archmage and I simply will not countenance this!” Usara protested. “I certainly won’t assist you with scrying.”
“We don’t work for you, pal,” said ’Gren sunnily.
“Or your Archmage,” added Sorgrad with a hint of menace. “And if you won’t work the magic for us, maybe I should have a try.”
“I told you before I’m the dog with the brass collar on this hunt,” I reminded the mage. “We’re going to do what we want, with or without your help.”
“I’d like to see you try,” scoffed Darni. “Impossible.”
’Gren smiled. “No such thing as impossible—”
“Just long odds.” Sorgrad stood next to his brother.
“And those are the kind that pay off best.” I joined them. “We’re on our way. Are you coming?”
“We should stick together through the Forest,” Darni glowered. “For safety in numbers.”
The wizards exchanged looks of impatience and uncertainty but each had the sense to realize that with Usara in such a state they needed swords and darts at least as much as spells to protect them.
We started to walk and I began racking my brains; without Usara’s cooperation, I was short of a few key runes. I wondered how to get them, but I was determined to play this hand. Gambling may be all about winning but that doesn’t mean it can’t be about getting even too.
Eight
The wind is a constant feature of life in Dalasor and this song sums up all its various moods—the chill wind of winter, the warm breath of summer, the violent storms that rage above the open grasslands and those oh so rare moments of stillness when it takes one a moment to realize what is missing.