By midday, the rise and fall of the landscape became more pronounced as they entered the Cesperion Hills, an ancient mountain range hammered by time and the elements to softly rounded peaks. There in the wildest part of the forest, the resonance was all around them. Telyn found that the vibrations were becoming so intense it distracted her, and made her feel slightly dizzy. Mithrais did not seem to notice or was not affected by it, for he did not stop to consult the tree folk again. He had set a path that would intercept his fellow wardens.
As Westwarden, Mithrais explained, he answered only to the Tauron Elders, and the other four Tauron in this part of the deep Wood were his to command when necessary. The involvement of all would be vital to the next step of the journey.
Telyn had spoken no more than a few words since they had started on this path, her face set in a mask of determination. She knew that Mithrais would have been traveling much more quickly without her, but if he was concerned about their speed, he did not show it. He merely offered words of encouragement, or unhurried assistance whenever Telyn began to lag behind.
She carefully heeded Mithrais’ cautions about leaving any clear sign that they had passed, but as the day wore on, Telyn was beginning to feel the physical toll of their urgent flight and the persistent resonance of the Gwaith’orn made her lightheaded. When Telyn stumbled near the crest of one of the great hills, Mithrais called a halt and handed her the water skin.
“We can take a moment to catch our breath,” he told her, although he did not seem to be winded in the least. Telyn sat on the ground and gulped a few mouthfuls of water, passing the skin back to him and pulling her hair away from her sweat-dampened face. Mithrais swallowed some water as well before stowing the skin. While Telyn took advantage of the respite, the warden looked back through the trees at the valley from which they had climbed.
“This is one of the highest points in the Wood,” he told her. “If we were to follow the ridge north for a league, there is another outpost. That’s where Aric and I spent much of the winter, for it’s near a village. Do you see the smoke?” He indicated a hazy cloud that hung above the trees near the horizon. “There are so few of us now who feel compelled to serve the Gwaith’orn that we can’t keep watch on all the small villages scattered throughout the Wood. It’s difficult to be sure they know which trees not to fell.”
“There are so many more Gwaith’orn here.” Telyn rubbed her forehead with her fingertips, working at the line of tension between her eyes. “Now that I know what to listen for, it’s as if I can’t shut them out.”
Mithrais sat on his heels beside her, puzzled. “Tell me what you are feeling.”
“The resonance is constantly in my mind. I don’t even have to look for it anymore. At times it makes me dizzy.” Telyn shook her head with a small noise of dismissal. “I know it sounds ridiculous. Am I making any sense at all?”
Mithrais was still a moment, touching her forehead lightly with his hand. His brow creased slightly when he realized that her mind was accessible to him.
“Your natural shielding isn’t strong enough to deflect their resonance here in the deep Wood. Perhaps it was too soon to teach you to open your mind.” His face was concerned. “I’ll show you tonight how to strengthen your shields, if you’re not too tired.” He offered her a hand. “Are you ready to continue, or do you wish to eat something?”
“I couldn’t eat now. Onward and upward,” Telyn said with little enthusiasm, placing her hand in his. Mithrais pulled her to her feet, and they resumed their interrupted climb, topping the hill and beginning to pick their way carefully down the opposite side. They were soon at the bottom of a narrow valley, another tree-covered slope rising before them.
Telyn suddenly reeled against a percussive wave of resonance, her hands going instinctively to her temples and her eyes shutting tightly. The dizziness was momentarily overwhelming, and Mithrais caught her as she started to fall, easing her to a seat on the ground.
“Telyn, tell me what just happened,” he said, kneeling beside her. His expression was less concerned than keenly interested, his gaze searching hers intently.
“There is a Gwaith’orn very close to us, isn’t there?” she exclaimed, shaking her head to clear it. “That felt like the signals that left the grove when you spoke with them this morning, but a hundred times stronger.”
“It did indeed.” Mithrais appeared to be taken aback. “We can see this Gwaith’orn from here—it’s one of the forest giants, and stands alone.” He showed her where several hundred yards down the valley, an enormous tree rose in majesty against the sky. Its white-barked branches barely visible beneath the pale green veil of leaves, the Gwaith’orn loomed over the rest of the trees like a sentry tower. “I felt the resonance pass as you fell. Are you all right?”
Telyn nodded. “I feel better, now. What is happening?”
“I’m not sure.” Mithrais paused a moment, considering. “Do you remember that I told you the Gwaith’orn are able to draw our attention when they wish to speak with the Tauron?”
“Yes.” Telyn frowned, rocking to her feet on the uneven terrain, and stared at the tree. “Do they want to speak with you now?”
“No.” Mithrais smile was both amused and mystified as he rose to stand beside her. “That pulse was directed at you.”
“Me?” Telyn was dumbfounded. She began to say something else, but Mithrais unexpectedly drew Telyn aside with a quick, urgent movement and pulled her down behind the trunk of an oak, raising a finger to his lips.
He had instantly become alert, a flicker among the trunks of the trees beyond the Gwaith’orn having caught his eye. Something was moving rapidly in their direction, and as Telyn, too, caught sight of it, it vanished almost as quickly as it had come. Mithrais indicated wordlessly that Telyn was to stay down. The bard nodded tightly, her left hand gripping the pommel of her dagger and drawing it silently.
Mithrais stood and brought his bow to hand, his fingers locating the feathered end of an arrow and fitting it smoothly to the string. He did not draw it but held it loosely before him, waiting. She heard no other sound in the forest but the rush of the wind, and the rustle of an inquisitive squirrel in the brush a few feet away.
Another flicker among the trees came and went; Mithrais raised the bow slowly. Telyn was certain now that it was no inhabitant of the wild moving toward them. Her right hand went to the hilt of the sword where it rose above her shoulder, waiting. Mithrais sighted on the spot the last movement had occurred, his fingers tightening on the shaft of the arrow and drawing it back steadily, ready to let it fly if there was need.
A low whistle sounded, and Mithrais relaxed the bow, allowing a grin of relief to crease his face. He answered with a signal of his own, replacing the weapons in the sheath slung across his back.
“It’s Aric,” he told Telyn, looking down at her where she crouched beside the trunk of the tree. Telyn blew out her breath, sagging limply against the tree for a moment as she slid the blade back into its sheath. Her ashen face betrayed the strain she was feeling despite her defensive posture, and her fingers were cold as Mithrais helped her stand. There was clearly a figure now running toward them through the trees, cloaked and hooded in Tauron green.
* * * *
The approaching warden pulled off the hood of his cloak, revealing the familiar flaming red hair. Mithrais raised a hand in greeting and walked out to meet him.
“I should have known you’d be first to reach us,” Mithrais said, grinning broadly as the two exchanged a soldiers’ greeting.
“Oh, I want him,” Aric said grimly. “That creature will not elude me this time.” Aric inclined his head toward Telyn briefly, his glance curious. “At your service, Lady Bard.”
“How far away is he?” Telyn asked apprehensively.
Aric gestured vaguely toward the west. “The Dragon was still a good distance behind you—I would estimate a league, at least.”
Aric offered his palm to Mithrais, who clasped it firmly and let the familiar touch of his friend’s mind wash over him. He showed Mithrais what he had gleaned from the Gwaith’orn’s resonance in regard to the bounty hunter. The images were quite distinct, but oddly distracted, for the tree folk had two targets between whom they were divided. One was most decidedly the bounty hunter, but the other, Mithrais recognized, was Telyn.
It was difficult to get them to focus on the bounty hunter, Aric told Mithrais silently. The Gwaith’orn are still very interested in her, but something has changed. They have been following her passage more closely than The Dragon’s.
She touched their consciousness very briefly last night, and again this morning.
She is a heartspeaker, then. Aric’s eyes flickered to the bard. She should have stayed in Rothvori. It’s too dangerous for her to be here now.
I’m escorting her to Cerisild under the shield of the Tauron. It appears that our cowardly friend was correct that others were looking for Telyn. She is The Dragon’s quarry, and he found us in Rothvori.
Aric’s eyes widened as he looked to Telyn, who was watching this wordless exchange with fascination. Mithrais gave Aric a rapid summary of Telyn’s exile, the price on her head, and his offer of sanctuary.
Mithrais relaxed his grip on Aric’s hand, allowing the contact to dissolve, and his friend made a harsh noise of triumph.
“So he has no warrant this time—not that it matters.” The smile on Aric’s face was dangerous, eager for retribution, and he paced excitedly toward the hill that Mithrais and Telyn had just descended. “Rodril and Cormac aren’t far away, and it will be just after dark before Halith can be close enough to assist. I have a plan to take him—”
“Wait, Aric,” Mithrais told him, holding up a hand. “We must do something else first to ensure that Telyn and I stay ahead of The Dragon. The Lord of Rothvori assisted us by staging a diversion last night, which gained us what small lead we now have. It’s possible that he knows exactly where I’m taking Telyn, and the rain will have made it easier to track us this far.”
Mithrais glanced at the bard, who stood a few paces away and was listening intently. “I want at least another full night’s lead. While Telyn’s courage seems limitless, I know her strength is not. It’s my intent to stop at the springs tonight to allow her to rest, and we’ll begin to approach Cerisild from the south tomorrow. You must see that the bounty hunter follows a false trail.”
Aric nodded. “Rodril can lay a trail for The Dragon to follow north, and I’ll come up behind him. If the diversion fails, the bounty hunter would have to get past me. Cormac should come south to meet you at the springs, and stand watch.”
“Keep Cormac with you—you will need every available warden should The Dragon see through it,” Mithrais warned. “Halith is our most skilled tracker. When she arrives, you may hunt him in earnest, but until then I’m asking you to be cautious.”
“No, you’re asking me to refrain from killing him on sight!” Aric’s tone carried more than a little defiance. “Mithrais, the law is clear on this—he became subject to Tauron judgment the moment he set foot inside the Wood! What if he escapes again?”
“You will lead him away.” Mithrais let his own voice issue an order, one that he knew his friend would not ignore, for he could not allow Aric’s desire for immediate action to further endanger Telyn. “You know what he is capable of, and what he will do if he overtakes us.”
His friend stared at him a moment, clearly unhappy that Mithrais had chosen to exercise his right to command, but the flicker of horror on Aric’s face confirmed that he remembered well the details of the grisly scene. The flame-haired warden released his breath in a rush of acquiescence as he nodded.
“I will do as you ask,” he said in a low voice.
“Thank you, Aric.” Telyn spoke quietly, her voice diffusing the tension between them. “I’ve heard many things about the Tauron’s skill and bravery, but never thought I would ever find myself under their protection. I’m certain that I am in good hands.”
“You are welcome, my lady. I will do all that I can to assure you reach Cerisild safely.” Aric glanced at Mithrais, reluctantly submitting to the Westwarden’s authority in this matter. “Rodril and I have arranged a meeting place. I will go there immediately, and begin laying the decoy trail. If it is successful, I still think Cormac should come to you. He’s too young and inexperienced to be involved in the hunt.”
“All the more reason for him to be involved. He would learn from the best.”
Aric shrugged, and Mithrais did not choose to fight this particular battle. It was enough that Aric would lead The Dragon away.
The warden drew up the cloak of his hood over his bright hair. Mithrais offered his wrist, and Aric gripped it with almost bruising force.
“Good luck,” Aric said with a nod to them both.
“Good hunting,” Mithrais replied. “Be careful, Aric.”
Aric grinned and started running lightly in the direction from which they had come. He soon disappeared into the trees.
“He’s going to be in danger, isn’t he?” Telyn asked soberly. “They all are.”
Mithrais, who had been following Aric’s departure, turned to regard Telyn. “It’s the risk we take when we become servants of the Wood.”
“But I wish it wasn’t on my account.”
“We’d do the same for anyone who needed our protection, but you seem to be of particular interest to those we serve. They want us to protect you.”
Telyn looked startled. “What do you mean?”
“I believe I know why you’re feeling the resonance so intensely here in the wild, for not only are there more Gwaith’orn, they’re focusing on you. Aric showed me that they have been following your passage ever since you touched their consciousness so briefly last night. We have never known them to follow anyone unless they were a threat of some kind.”
“Why are the Gwaith’orn watching me?” Telyn queried Mithrais worriedly, and looked toward the forest giant down the valley, a flicker of dread in her eyes. “I wonder what they see in me that concerns them.”
Mithrais shook his head and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Aric said ‘interest’, and that’s a very different perception for the Gwaith’orn. If they were troubled by you, they would not be trying to seek your attention. You have nothing to fear from them, Telyn.” Mithrais smiled at her, letting his hand slide down her arm to clasp her fingers in his, and they began to move across the valley toward the looming hillside. “When we reach our destination, we will see what we can learn from them. At the rift, we turn south and will reach the springs before nightfall.”
“As long as I don’t have to swim across them.” Telyn narrowed her eyes at him in mock reproach.
“You may wish to, this time. The springs are hot.”
Telyn groaned wistfully. “That sounds wonderful. If I weren’t being hunted like a deer, I’d insist on bathing in one. There isn’t an inch of me that doesn’t ache.”
“If Aric’s diversion is successful, you may yet have the opportunity.”
* * * *
The deceptively mild rise of the hill ended abruptly. Telyn found herself facing the edge of a precipice; on the opposite side, a nearly vertical granite cliff glared silver-grey in the sunlight.
The bard stood at the top, staring in awe at the rocky slash that cut through the heart of the Wood like the narrow scar of some giant axe. Gentle green trees banked the canyon, which continued north and south as far as the undulating terrain would allow her eyes to see.
Mithrais led her along the top of the ridge for a few hundred yards until they reached a notch in the rock face. “We can descend into the rift here. It will lead us directly to the springs, which lie at the southern end.”
As Mithrais removed his cloak, rolling it tightly, Telyn looked over the edge. The rocks looked treacherously smooth to her, the floor of the canyon one hundred feet below them. Her heart was pounding as she stepped back in haste, swallowing audibly, her head already swimming from the buzzing resonance.
“Please tell me I don’t have to scale down that cliff,” Telyn said, her voice rising in apprehension.
“It’s not as difficult as it looks. This point is easily navigated.” He slung the cloak over his shoulder and secured it beneath the leather straps that held his weapons so that it would not interfere with the climb.
“I think I just found the limit of my courage, Mithrais.” Telyn felt slightly nauseated with anxiety. “I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can.” Mithrais put his hands on her shoulders, his expression changed as he felt her body trembling beneath his hands. Telyn was shaking with fear, and near panic at the thought of climbing down the cliff face. He led her to a seat on a large, flat stone, holding her hands, which were cold and damp with sweat.
“This is the only way into the rift that we can scale without ropes.” Mithrais glanced in both directions, thinking, and sighed aloud. “Going around will add unnecessary hours to our journey, because there is another arm of the rift we must skirt in order to continue south. We’d risk losing any lead we might otherwise put between ourselves and The Dragon. Please try, Telyn. If you find that you can’t do it, we will go the other way.”
Telyn was silent for a moment, and finally nodded tersely. “I’ll try.”
“I will guide you. You need not look down at all—just focus on the rocks in front of you. It will be all right.”
Mithrais helped her secure her cloak in similar fashion to his own, and waited as Telyn took a few deep breaths, trying to center herself and displace her fear as she had been taught. With the resonance humming in her mind like a distracting hive of bees, it took Telyn a moment to reduce her fear to a less dominating presence. Her heart stopped pounding, but a cold sweat beaded her forehead and the metallic taste of terror was still in her mouth.
When she was ready, Mithrais led her to the lip of the canyon, where he reversed himself and slid over the side, his hands and feet immediately finding purchase.
“Come down feet first, facing the rocks,” he told Telyn, and the bard complied, moving as quickly as she dared without thinking too much about what she was doing. She kept her eyes focused on the rocks inches from her nose, and on her white-knuckled hands that kept a death grip on each projection.
Mithrais directed her movements, issuing calm instructions for the placement of her hands and feet. The rocks were quite sheer on either side, but the fissure they traversed was angled in such a manner that they took a diagonal path down the wall of the canyon. Telyn looked neither up nor down. Her attention centered on the cool, speckled, grey stone dotted with lichen, the world narrowed to only that and the voice and hands directing her next movement.
“We’re halfway down. You’re doing well, Telyn. It isn’t much farther,” Mithrais reassured her. “Your next foothold is on the right, down and just to the inside.”
Telyn felt for the indentation with the toe of her right boot. She had just found the small crevice, when her left foot slipped from its resting place, and both feet were dislodged in the sudden movement. Telyn looked down instinctively as her hands clutched for purchase on the rocks. She gasped in terror, the canyon reeling below her, feeling rough lichen crumble and slide beneath her fingertips before Mithrais stopped her downward momentum.
She had slipped only a short distance, but Telyn was frozen, holding her body flat against the stones and breathing raggedly, her eyes squeezed shut in panic.
“You are all right, Telyn,” Mithrais told her, his voice steady.
“I can’t go any farther!” she cried, her voice muffled against the rock.
“You can,” Mithrais said firmly. “Move your left foot up and to the outside. There is a good foothold—here.” His hand on her ankle directed her boot to the small niche. “I will not let you fall. We are nearly at the bottom.”
It was a lengthy moment before Mithrais could coax her to move on her own again. Telyn obeyed his patient directions automatically, her teeth set so tightly together that her jaws ached. After what seemed like hours of painfully slow movements down the crevice, Mithrais dropped from the wall and placed his hands on her waist to lift her down beside him.
“You made it, Telyn. We are on the floor of the rift.”
Telyn’s knees were weak from fear, almost unable to support her weight as she slid off the wall to stand on the loose stones below, and Mithrais held her against him. Telyn breathed a shaking sigh of release, her arms wrapped tightly about him, and Mithrais told her, “Frightened or not, you are still the most courageous soul I have ever met, Telyn.”
“I don’t ever want to do this again,” Telyn said fervently against his shoulder. “We don’t have to climb back up, do we?”
Mithrais promised they did not. She tested her legs and found them steady, and they began to move through the rocky gorge.
“Do you still feel the resonance here at the bottom of the rift?” Mithrais asked her. Telyn was still a moment, and then shook her head.
“I can’t feel it.”
“The stones will help screen you for a time. When we reach the south end, it will return.”
“The incentive of soaking in a hot spring is sounding better and better,” Telyn declared. “I think I deserve it, now.”
“If it is in my power, you shall have it,” Mithrais vowed.