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oblige so charming an envoy; however, I cannot return what I do not
have."
"That's impossible," Donya said. It was hard to concentrate. How much
wine had she drunk? "You you have to have it. No one else could."
"My word, my lady, I do not," Baloran said earnestly. "For your sake I
am sorry you have journeyed so long to find me to no avail, however
delightful I have found your company. I would be glad to help you if I
could."
Donya shook her head confusedly. She felt oddly vague and
disconnected. Was it only her muzzy head, or were the pavilion and its
contents becoming somehow blurred and ill-defined?
"What will you do now, my lady?" Baloran asked, leaning forward. "Will
you return to Allanmere with your men?"
"I& can't," Donya murmured. "The Council of Churches& I have to find
it. I'll go the map, yes. Other places to look."
"The map?" Baloran prompted gently. Donya found herself handing
him the rolled leather. He unrolled it, surveying her markings with
interest.
"Ah, my lady, how unfortunate," he said. "What am I to do now? My
master will not like this."
"& master?" Donya murmured. Words came hard, too hard.
"Oh, my lady, you will forgive me a small ruse," Baloran laughed. His
features were changing, melting away. "My master could not greet you
here himself, for he has other guests to greet, but he sent me to welcome
you to his lands. I fear, however, you must meet with him himself. Come."
The tall, dark thing that Donya had once thought was Baloran rose,
extending one of four hands. Donya numbly clasped the hand, which
pulled her to her feet. She followed silently after the creature, able only to
look back mutely.
"Oh, do not fear for your men, my lady," the creature said. "I have not
been ordered to harm them. Nay, the creatures you met were not sent by
my master's orders; they are their own law, being a pack of bandits with
whom my master had some unhappy dealings. They will trouble your men
no further, for you have come to a land on which they will no longer
trespass."
Two of its black hands gestured. A shimmering curtain materialized in
the air before them. Through its glistening silver surface, Donya could see
another room, a smaller room, built of blocks of white stone.
"Come, my lady," the demon said courteously. "My master awaits."
Donya stepped silently through the curtain.
Early the next morning Shadow began to get a sense of what Celene had
meant by "a troubling of the natural forces." The first signs were subtle,
noticeable only, perhaps, to someone alert for them a change not so
much noticeable to the eye as to the spirit. Perhaps the wind smelled
slightly odd, or the sky was a slightly different shade; perhaps it was the
song of the birds that seemed to have altered somehow. Perhaps it was
only a vague sense of unease, an indefinable feeling that something was
awry, akin to the prickling Shadow felt at the back of her neck if someone
was watching her.
"Stop looking over your shoulder like that," Blade said irritably.
"I feel like someone's watching me," Shadow said nervously.
"No one is watching you. Now stop jumping about."
"How do you know?" Shadow said. "The back of my neck's prickling.
How do you know Baloran isn't watching us this instant through a crystal
ball or something?"
"He is not."
"How do you know that?" Shadow insisted.
Blade sighed annoyedly. "Because Blackfell shields me from such
detection, and, by proximity, you as well. That is his particular ability, and
undoubtedly why Baloran summoned him to begin with. It was likely quite
handy during the wars."
Shadow pulled her horse to a halt, staring at Blade amazedly. "Why
didn't you tell me that before?" she demanded.
"And why should I have?" Blade retorted. "It is no business of yours."
"We're walking into a mage's lair and you don't think it's my business?"
Shadow demanded.
"I did not force you into this," Blade said pointedly. "As I recall, you
went to some pains to enlist me. There was no discussion of an exchange
of our respective secrets. You already know more of me than I like. I tell
you now only so that you do not make the rest of this journey a misery
jumping about like a mouse in a snake pit."
Shadow raised an eyebrow. "Anything else you'd like to tell me now,
while you're at it?"
Blade's eyes were icy. "There is nothing I would like to tell you,
including many things you already know. Now let me be."
Shadow sighed unhappily, not reassured. Mages might well be daunted
by such things; she certainly hoped so.
Elves, though, wouldn't rely on plain magic; elves would have birds
watching from the sky or small scurrying things from the grass. Unless
Blackfell could make them all invisible Shadow had heard of such
things nothing was hiding them from beast-eyes.
"Mages do not use animals," Blade said from beside her.
Shadow jumped. "Is thought-reading among your many unlisted
abilities?" she asked accusingly.
Blade chuckled coldly. "You have been staring askance at every bird
overhead and every field mouse underfoot," she said. "I remember what
you told me of the elves. Beasts dislike magic; they are shy of it. That is
why mages tamper with them, breed them into chancy things to serve
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