The word shoots through me like an arrow.Maelar—I know it.
He just called me his queen.
16
TAAR
Even as we begin to form the protective circle, I am painfully aware of Ilsevel’s absence. Halamar is under orders to keep her away from the rest of the company, for her own safety. And for his safety, he is to remain close to her and Diira. Diira is long experienced in casting protective light around her rider, and I know she is more than capable of shielding the two of them.
Nonetheless, I cannot help the desperate urge to locate them, even as we begin the treacherous perimeter ride.Can you sense her, Elydark?I sing into my licorneir’s head.
He, distracted from his immediate task, casts out his awareness beyond the glowing circle of song and into the blackness of thevardimnar. I follow the direction of his song and find the shiningvelraflows the same way through the heavy hand of darkness. There, just for a moment, I glimpse the orb of lightsong whichDiira casts, surrounding those in her charge with protection.
Then the darkness surges, black tendrils reaching out to grab at Elydark’s galloping legs. With a wordless jerk of will, I urge his attention back to the immediate song, to the harmony of voices he creates with his fellow licorneir. What a damned-shakhingfool I am, pulling his attention away, even for a moment! One small weakness can spell death for those who stand susceptible to the pressure of hell bearing down upon them.
Screams of terror punctuate the atmosphere, bursting on my awareness even through the pulse of licorneir song. Only a few at first, spaced out at intervals, but growing more frequent, louder, more wracked with terror. I knew it would happen; we have licorneir enough to form a barrier around the entire company, but not a dense barrier. Not enough to prevent the creeping evil from slipping through in sinister fingers. How many losses will we suffer tonight, simply because I could not maintain focus? The question plagues me and, with it, the grasp of hell closes in at our heels, eager to pluck me into its clutches.
“Vulmon, Elydark!”I roar. My licorneir puts on a burst of tremendous speed, and the fiery song pours out of him, wave upon wave of pulsing energy. His voice joins in the song of his fellow licorneir, a powerful harmony of flame. But still too thin—far too thin. I knew our numbers were drastically reduced, but I was not prepared for this reality. Can we hold the barrier? If thevardimnarlasts much longer . ..
I won’t let myself think of that. I won’t let myself think at all, but pour all the fire of my own soul into Elydark’s song. If my physical body was needed as fuel for this flame, I would gladly self-immolate for the chance of protecting even one of these souls under my charge. Darkness pursues, snapping at the back of my neck with hungry jaws. I know it wants to claim me, this fiendish hell which took both my father and my mother. I can hear the voice whispering in my head, in my blood:“Give me to drink, Taarthalor . . .”
I open my mouth, uttering a roar loud enough to block out all other sounds save the pulse of Elydark’s song. I will not give in to hopelessness, to that sense of dire inevitability even now seeking to drag my soul into its depths. I burn with Elydark, singing the flames of our bond, joining with the ancient chorus which the Goddess herself ordained in realms beyond time, and I refuse to be broken. Not this time. Not yet.
It ends at last. The sun returns in a burst of light so brilliant, it blinds the eye, though before thevardimnarfell, the day had seemed heavy and gray. Elydark slows his pace, the fire he’s maintained all this while sinking to low flames along his neck and shoulders.
I turn in the saddle, surveying the ranks. There are gaps—too many gaps. Now that the licorneir song is not filling my ears and soul, I hear the cries and sobs of my people. We have suffered losses with this first attack. How many, I cannot yet guess. More than I hoped. The barrier was simply too weak.
Kildorath rides toward me on Miramenor. His golden unicornlooks spent, all fire burnt down to ash in his soul. If thevardimnarstrikes again soon, will he even be able to sing with the others?
“Search out those we have lost,” I command, my voice heavy, my lungs short of breath. “Find the bodies, if you can. We leave none behind.”
Kildorath salutes and, despite his exhaustion, turns to fulfill my orders. Other Licornyn riders approach me as well, and I am kept busy for some while, trying to restore some sense of order to my stricken company. All the while thevelrapulls at me, and it is only with extreme force of will that I refuse to let myself be dragged away by it. She is alive; I know that much. Thevelrapulses with the strength of her soul. But until I see her with my own eyes, I will not be at ease.
Though it is probably no more than a few minutes, it feels like an age before I finally am able to turn Elydark’s head and gallop with all speed where thevelraleads. We end up a quarter of a mile away from the rest of the band, out in the open grasslands. I see them both—Ilsevel and Halamar, plus their mounts. Diira still shimmers with the brilliance of the song she sang, but my eyes fix on her rider.
“Ilsevel!” I bellow, my voice rolling out to her.
She turns in the saddle. Her face breaks in a smile at sight of me, and my heart soars to the sky above. In another few moments, she will be in my arms.
“Luinar!”
The desperation of that cry catches me like hooks in the spine.Elydark pulls to a stop, and I turn in the saddle, looking back to where Kildorath has dismounted. He beckons to me, and every gesture of his body fills me with dread. Even from this distance I can see the crumpled form lying at his feet.
I know what I will find when I draw near. I’ve seen it before, the victims of thevardimnar,too many times in the course of my life. But I make myself turn Elydark about and urge the licorneir to cover the distance between me and that fallen figure. Dismounting, I walk with heavy footsteps to where Kildorath stands and drop to my knees.
It’s Usunaar. The young rider, recruited before his training was complete. His face is twisted in a mask of horror, but where his eyes should be are two empty holes filled with blackness. Devoured. There are drag-marks in the dirt, revealing how his body was pulled all this way, beyond the circle of light.
I stare down at that ruined face, forcing myself to take it in. To study every detail, to engrave that memory of the young man’s death-horror deep in my brain. No one should die like this, least of all one so young, whose life has not yet even begun.
“Where is his licorneir?” I say suddenly, lifting my head to meet Kildorath’s stricken gaze.
He opens his mouth, prepared to answer. Before a single word emerges, however, a sudden roaring shriek splits the air, followed by an explosion of red light. We turn to see the beautiful licorneir erupting in thevelrhoarflames even as it throws back its head and screams its pain to the uncaring heavens.
“Stop him!” I cry, leaping to my feet. “Don’t let him get away!”
But my fellow warriors are all too numb, too exhausted, too stricken with their own sorrow, and cannot move swiftly enough. I rush for Elydark, and it is as though I’m fighting my way through knee-deep sand. By the time I’m in the saddle, the hearttorn licorneir is already speeding from sight across the distant horizon, a trail of red flame left in its wake. I watch it go until the light flickers beyond sight.
My heart sinks down to my gut. Usunaar is lost to thevardimnar. The circle of protection, already fragile, is weakened. How many more lives will be sacrificed before we ever reach the citadel?
