The Jargoon Pard (Witch World Series (High Hallack Cycle)) (19 page)

BOOK: The Jargoon Pard (Witch World Series (High Hallack Cycle))

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Claws raked and then caught. The brazier was overbalanced and fell. Out of its hollow spewed the burning stuff Ursilla must have mixed with such care. There was no more smoke arising from the scattered bits, quickly fading to ashes. The cloud of smoke, already in the air, began to fade.

But—

A cry arose in my own throat, echoed hoarsely from the dark. For the seated figure near Ursilla had—moved!

From its claw hand the man-toy fell limply, tossed aside as something now without value. But the claws hovered above the snow cat, closing in. I heard a Were-roar of defiance. Saw Ursilla's mouth stretch over sounds that seemed to distort her human lips. She lashed out at the cat, and he retreated before her wand as she drove him back under the slowly descending hand.

What could be done? Aylinn cried from beside me. I could not listen coherently to what she said. Rather I concentrated upon what I must do.

Gillan's leaf point quivered now. The wand to which it was fastened wavered back and forth. Her face was drawn by fear, not for herself, but for Herrel.

Then—not knowing I had made the descent—I was on the pavement. My fingers closed about the hilt of the sword I had dropped at the foot of the figure. This in hand, I staggered forward, forcing my drained body to do my will.

The snow cat had easily made the leap through the opening in the smoke. But the wall, save for that, was still intact. I had no time to hunt another doorway, nor did I have the strength to raise myself through the one that existed. I had only the sword—and to some sorcery iron was a deadly thing.

I drew on all the energy still in me, raised my arm shoulder high. Then I hurled the blade as I might have a spear.

Through the window in the smoke it carried. I had had such a short time in which to aim. And my weakness betrayed me. The point did not strike at Ursilla. Instead, it clattered feebly against her wand.

There was a brilliant flash of light, so great as to half-blind me. I threw up my arm to shield my eyes. So—I had failed!

“Kethan!”

Aylinn's hands were upon my shoulders. I knew her touch even though I could not see her.

I blinked, perceiving only a haze ahead, one shot through with color. Through it, in some strange fashion, padded on four feet an indistinct animal shape. The snow cat!

Gillan closed in upon my left, even as the cat reached us. I blinked again, rubbed my eyes, hoping to clear away the fog born from the flash.

Now the last of the smoke was whirled away by a wind that arose out of nowhere. Crouched against the feet of the figure who had answered her spell-call was the Wise Woman.

By her feet lay the sword, its blade half melted, blackened. Of her wand there was no sign at all.

Ursilla was the focus of that wind. Under its buffeting, she cowered close to the pavement—and—She was—

She was gone! There was a length of cloth that had been her coif, a tangle of robe. But she was gone. Over where she had crouched hung the empty claw hand that had reached for a new toy to hold throughout the centuries.

“Her power”—Gillan's voice reached me dimly through the wind that still wailed—“her power was broken and then recoiled! She is—finished!”

“So be it!”

That was another voice, one I knew. Maughus moved away from the two women, watched us with eyes in which there was little of sanity left.

“If you think to take Car Do Prawn—” All that had happened appeared to mean nothing to him, his own cause was all that mattered. And he spoke thus to Aylinn.

She laughed. “What want I of your Keep?” She moved closer to Gillan. “I want no part of any heritage. I have my own place.”

“You—” He swung now upon me.
“You
have no claim—”

“Nor want one,” I told him. There was a vast weariness about me. “To you goes Car Do Prawn, Maughus. No man shall now gainsay your right.”

He eyed me doubtfully. Perhaps he could not believe that I would not do as he might have done in my place, fight for the Keep. But to me, Car Do Prawn now seemed as far removed as a star, and far less desirable.

“Yes, Lord Maughus, to you Car Do Prawn—”

We all turned in startlement. There stood another, beyond the circle of the seated ones. Now he came briskly into the waning light. As he passed the place where some of the purple flames still danced fitfully, he waved his hand. They disappeared.

“Ibycus—” I was tired beyond the power to wonder what had brought the trader hither to this place and at this hour.

He bowed. “Just so, Kethan. I see that you have made excellent use of your gift—”

My hand fell to the belt. Part of me wanted to strip it off—hurl it from me. The other part forbade. Beast I might be again when there came a need, but now Kethan would ever control the pard.

He nodded. I knew he could read my thoughts as easily as if they were runes set out on some roll.

“Very true.” Now he turned his head to look upon Gillan, and, behind her, Herrel, who once more stood a man.

I saw them both suddenly make the same gesture of respect, one I had seen used only from Keep Lord to a messenger of the Voices.

“You think we may have played some ill tricks, Lady?” Ibycus asked Gillan.

She hesitated. “I think rather there was meant to be a meaning to all of this that the players in your act did not know.”

“You are entirely right. Ursilla would provide her tool, the Lady Heroise, with an heir—for her own purposes. Her efforts in that direction evoked the knowledge of one to whom is entrusted the duty of keeping the balance of power here in Arvon. Thus we made use of her ambition in order to temper those who are to stand firm in times to come. With you, Lady Gillan, Aylinn became the person she was meant to be. In Car Do Prawn, had Ursilla not played her own game, this maid would never have learned the depth and height of her own powers. While Kethan”—now he smiled at me—“was tested as a sword is tested by a smith, proving that he had the strength desired. And the last venture—within this you four have woven well a pattern that will hold—”

Herrel spoke as Ibycus paused. “I read in your words hints beyond hints, Messenger. Do we now venture once more into battle?”

“So much we can read, but that foreknowledge is limited. Your Werekin, with their Dale brides, have forged a new race. These two”—he gestured to Aylinn and then to me—“are also to be counted of that heritage. We have been informed that this is of importance, the whyfor will come to be discovered in time. Now—” He stood with his hands on his hips as his eyes studied each of us in turn. “This is no place for those of Arvon. Old and old it is, and best forgotten. Out—”

With his forefinger he pointed swiftly to Maughus, to the Lady Eldris, to Heroise. And—they were gone!

Us, he did not so indicate separately. But a wave of a hand included us four together. There was a breath of cold and darkness, then—

We stood with the sun of midmorning warm upon us. The other three watched me with an inner warmth, greater than any sun glow could ever be.

“Welcome home, Kethan!” said my father, as Aylinn drew me forward to walk down the door path of the garden.

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