Raoul blinked. “Yes,” he said, “and—am I wrong, Captain? Both were to the northeast.”
The silence shifted, gained potential. “That’s where the light comes from too,” said John.
“The light comes from over there,” Marcus countered, waving his hand in the vague direction of the cliffs. “The last I heard, none of us had seen a source.”
“But would you bet against it?” Toinette asked.
“No,” said Marcus with no hesitation. “Then we have either a man defending his territory with deadly force, not bothering with any sort of diplomacy, or—”
“—or a cursed land, and perhaps the center of the curse in it,” Erik finished. “But either way, we now have a route to follow, and it could be we have signs to seek as well.”
Twenty-Eight
Violet light arced, crackling, between Samuel and Toinette, between Toinette and John, between John and Erik, and finally inward, following the channels of the circle into the three swords that stood on end in the center. There, the signs painted on the metal attracted the light, captured it, and held it in twisting sigils of purple fire.
Toinette held her concentration, feeling power running through and out of her like water through a funnel. Another four breaths brought the end, and indeed Erik began the Latin chanting then, thanking and dismissing the forces that had aided them. “…et non erit,” he concluded, with a severing gesture of one hand. The otherworldly force that had joined the four of them and connected them to powers yet more otherworldly than that vanished. Toinette sat heavily on the sand.
“We did it,” said John, with a glance at the swords.
“Aye,” said Erik, breathing heavily. “They’ll be potent against darkness. For a while yet.”
“How long is ‘a while yet’?” Samuel asked.
“A year and a day, generally. Or so I remember.” He shoved damp hair out of his face. “It’s the first time I’ve done this, ye ken. We haven’t often had the need of fighting cursed beasts. I’m only glad I remembered enough of what Artair taught to get it right.”
Samuel cocked his head, birdlike, and asked, “Did you all learn magic?”
“All of us that Artair had charge of,” said Erik. “Some more than others. As with other skills, it had mostly to do with our individual talents. But we were all dragged in by the ear a fair bit of our day.”
“I had more dragging than you.” Toinette smiled wearily. She, Erik, and Artair’s younger children had all preferred other activities to magical study. Cathal would always rather have been fighting; Moiread had enjoyed stories but had been uninterested in the complicated logic of the Upper Worlds. Erik had simply not had the will to command forces most of the time, and Toinette had found the whole matter vaguely troubling, another mark against her humanity.
“And he didn’t teach us this spell exactly,” Erik said, drawing her back from the past. “When you know what planets govern what, and what angels rule which realms, and the symbols that go wi’ all of them, it often becomes a matter of putting logs together to form the house you want.”
John gave him a sideways glance. “So, you don’tknowthat these swords will harm any of the cursed beasts.”
“No,” said Erik, too tired to be defensive, as John was too tired to be very accusatory. “We’ll not know until we try.”
“Hmm,” said John, but didn’t protest further. “Same with the protective spell?”
“Less so. Wards against surprise attacks are familiar to me, and I know one that will even turn weapons—for a very short time, mind. What they’ll do against creatures warped by magic, I couldn’t say. But we’ve not had any threats on the beach, and up in the glen, the house itself should be shield enough.”
Watered wine tasted lovely. Toinette closed her eyes and concentrated on that, letting the voices around her fall like raindrops past her ears. The spell hadn’t been as draining as the scrying; she thought she was regaining strength with practice, but she also knew there’d been no resistance. That argued for the curse being only a curse, without the will to interfere.
The problem was, she badly wanted to think so. It would be so very good if they only had to find their way to the center, break a skull or throw a ring into the ocean, and be free. Toinette would rejoice to have that be the case—and knowing what she wanted, she knew too that she couldn’t entirely trust herself when evidence seemed to lead to that conclusion.
She rubbed at her temples. “Who gets the swords? I’d argue against the two of you, as you’ve other skills now.”
“And not us,” said Erik, “for the same reason.”
Darkness floated before her eyes. Toinette pushed it to the sides, sorting through her mind for names and impressions, memories of battle. “Sence,” she said and felt certain of it, though she knew he was untried. When none of the others objected, she went on with less assurance. “Franz,ifwe can count on him not to be nervy about the magic. I’ll have to have a word with him about it. And then…I don’t know. Does guile outweigh age?”
“Are you asking, Captain?” Samuel’s voice was respectful, but not hesitant.
“I am, if you’ve any thoughts on the matter.”
“Then I’d say to give it to Raoul, and not Marcus. The man who takes one of those weapons will be on the front lines.”
“Marcus has been in the midst of a battle or two, if you’ll recall,” Toinette replied.
