Because the gods want to be entertained, Kate thought, reminded of this truth by the mark of the Shade Born on Raith’s face. They don’t want anything to be easy.
Sighing, she said, “Let’s try again.” She shook her finger at Bonner. “But no more tickling. I’ve got to learn to do it when I’m calm.”
Bonner grinned. “Never again, I swear.”
Hours passed before Kate managed it again. After a while she began to think of it like singing. That was the best analogy she could come up with. The thoughts of animals were on a different part of the scale. They were lower, in easier reach. Human thoughts resided on a much higher scale, one you had to stretch for. All she needed to do was attune her magic to the different plane. Easier said than done, after a lifetime of training her magic only to reach one level. But she kept at it until she was able to do it several times in a row.
She began to understand that attuning herself to the different scale was the hardest part of the challenge. The rest of it, the actual listening in part, was much the same, though the human mind was larger, more complex, like a massive vault full of thoughts and memories. Without meaning too, Kate caught glimpses of Raith’s past, of the life he’d endured as a child—fear and hate directed at him for no other reason than the different way his skin had been marked. But at his center, he possessed the same glowing flame, his essence as bright and beautiful as any she’d sensed before.
In the end she found that using her magic on humans was actually easier, especially when it came to communicating back. After all, with humans, she spoke the same language. But the ease was also the biggest danger, Kate realized when she accidentally sent a thought directly into Raith’s mind.
He winced and rubbed his forehead. “You’ll want to be careful about doing that, Kate. You’ll give yourself away at once. Those diamonds will only prevent the detection stones from going off. They won’t do anything to hide proof of magic happening. Also, there’s no need to shout.”
“Sorry,” Kate said, sagging back on the chair. She felt drained to the point of passing out, the well of her magic like an empty hole inside her. Never before had she used it so much at one time. “I didn’t mean to do it. I’ll be more careful.”
“Good.” Raith stood and glanced out the window, where the last rays of the sunset were casting faint orange streamers over the horizon. “I’m afraid that’s all we have time for. We’ll practice again on the road and when we stop to camp. If we’re lucky, the time it takes us to get to Thornewall will be enough for you to master the skill.”
Kate nodded, ignoring the doubt that remained. Mastery or not, she would do the best she could and could only hope it would be enough.
26
Kate
THE CARAVAN WAS READY TO leave at dawn the next day. When Kate spotted Corwin in the courtyard, he looked exhausted. Dark smudges circled his eyes, and he moved with a jerky sort of weariness as he mounted Nightbringer. Kate supposed the effort of organizing a group this large so quickly must’ve kept him up half the night. There were twelve blue robes, all handpicked by Raith, and ten Norgard cavalrymen on warhorses, with two more driving the supply wagons.
Everyone bore arms—swords and daggers, as well as ranged weapons, either bow or revolver. There were ten working revolvers in all, carried by Corwin, Signe, Kate, Dal, and six of the cavalrymen. Stuffed in everyone’s pockets and saddlebags were a vast amount of flash stones and the shield stones Raith had promised. Kate felt as if she were riding off to war rather than a rescue mission.
They traveled at a quick, steady pace that first day, the wagons rolling along easily on the smooth, even road. By the second day, they reached rougher ground, the road getting rockier by the mile and the hills more frequent. Although Corwin hoped they would make it there in three days, it soon became clear that four was the best they could manage—unless they wanted to enter the cliffs surrounding Thornewall at dusk and risk the threat of nightdrakes.
Kate passed the time in the saddle practicing her sway. It was difficult at first, her instincts protesting the danger of wielding her magic so openly—and in front of a dozen magists as well, each of them carrying the required detection stone in their maces and only half of them sympathetic to the Rising. But after a while she grew to enjoy the freedom of it. While they were still in open country, she practiced stretching out as far as she could, listening for the minds of humans. Twice she was able to sense the approach of other travelers ahead before they came into view. Best of all though, Dal had brought Lir with him, and she occasionally joined with the falcon’s mind while it flew above the caravan, giving herself the ability to see far and wide and to savor the sensation of flying itself. She could get used to such freedom.
When they made camp each evening, she would join Raith in his tent, and the two of them would discuss in low voices her accomplishments that day. Then they would spend the last hour before nightfall practicing as they had at Norgard, with Kate trying to uncover thoughts while Raith now actively tried to hide from her.
When they stopped for the third day, Corwin called them all together to discuss plans for the morrow. They gathered in the center of camp, where he and Dal had drawn a crude map on the ground using rocks and sticks.
“In the morning,” Corwin said, “we will send out the scouts as planned. Some will go ahead and others will follow behind. However, Lord Dallin believes that if there is to be an ambush, it will happen as we reach this point here.” Corwin indicated a place on the map where the trail became its narrowest. Stacks of large rocks had been laid side by side to indicate the bottleneck.
“It’s called the Serpent’s Pass,” Dal said, sweeping his gaze over the group. “Both because of the way it twists and because of how deadly it can be. In the spring, summer, and fall, there’s always the chance of rockslides. In the winter, avalanche. The horses won’t be able to go much faster than a walk. The ground is too rocky.”
“If there hasn’t been any sign of daydrakes or their handlers by the time we reach this point,” Corwin said, “we will purposefully delay. We don’t want to meet them in the Serpent’s Pass. We’ll stage one of the wagons to appear broken down. Whoever is watching will see us as easy prey, but we won’t be.”
There were murmurs among the men as they digested this news. Corwin allowed them a few moments, then raised his hands for silence. “Now, we need to decide on the scouts.” He began listing the names. Kate waited for hers to be called, but it wasn’t, and upon reaching the end of the roster, Corwin said, “The rest of us will stay with the wagons to defend the supplies and to take down any drakes that come into range.”
Signe leaned toward Kate and said with a hiss, “Does he think we’re mere decorations? I don’t want to guard the wagon.”
“Neither do I,” Kate said. What was worse, it would make it harder for her to detect the drakes’ handlers. She needed isolation to hear clearly with her magic.
When the meeting ended, Raith approached Kate. “We need to change Corwin’s mind,” he whispered.
“Yes, but how, without telling him the truth?”
Raith glanced around the camp as if searching for the answer. “I have an idea. Come with me.”
Kate followed Raith to where Corwin and Dal were spreading out their bedrolls. Despite the crisp air, they’d decided there would be no fires this evening, so as not to tip off any potential enemies.
“Your highness.” Master Raith bowed his head in greeting. “We need to discuss the scouts.”
Corwin looked up, his expression at first surprised, then annoyed, as his eyes fell on Kate before shifting back to the magist. “In what way, Master Raith?”
“I believe Miss Kate would make the best scout. Her skills will be wasted guarding the wagons.”