Description: The mages reach Long Drop Gorge and are attacked by hurroks. They manage to defeat them with the help of their escorts, but who has been sending these Immortals to attack them and how do they know where they are?

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters. Everything belongs to Tamora Pierce.

Author's Note: I am really sorry that this chapter and the last have been mostly copied from the book. I didn't want to skip these scenes but there's not been a lot of freedom to do much else.

Chapter 9

The group walked all afternoon through different species of trees. The mage questioned the badger god as they passed each species whether any of them were gods or goddesses, learning all he could about the First Trees of every type. They eventually emerged onto a grass shelf where the land fell away to reveal a vast ravine. Daine approached the edge and whistled as she leaned over. Numair preferred to keep his distance as his eyes fell on the fraying bridge he feared they were about to cross.

"Long Drop Gorge," said Badger. "And there's the First Bridge," the animal god nodded towards the precarious bridge the mage had been worrying about.

"The first rope-and-wood bridge." Broad Foot interjected. "The first rope bridge is farther up. We didn't think you'd like that."

Numair shuddered at the thought of crossing something made from nothing but fraying hemp. Two splintering posts stood before the drop with guide ropes tied to them. Across the gorge, planks of old wood were attached to more distressed ropes that looked as if they would snap the moment any weight was placed on them.

"First Bridge or First Wood-and Rope Bridge, it won't break," the badger argued. "It was set here after the first humans were done with it, and it's been here ever since. No force in the Divine Realms may break it, until the realms themselves are broken."

"Is there an easier way to cross?" the mage swallowed nervously. "Anywhere?"

Both animal gods shook their heads.

"Long Drop Gorge extends several days' march in both directions. You did say you are in a hurry." Broad Foot pointed out.

"Would you be able to carry our belongings if you and Broad Foot transported yourselves across?" the mage asked politely.

"No. Weiryn and Sarra put some of their power into what you carry to help you," the duckmole explained. "Those things are bound to you. If we tried to take them, they would not come."

Numair looked at his staff remembering the words Daine's father had spoken into his mind. "I didn't know Weiryn cared."

Daine peered over the edge again and paled visibly.

"Are you all right?" the mage put an arm around her shoulders. "Heights don't bother you."

"It's the bridge as much as the height," she said.

He couldn't argue with her on that one. "I will carry our things, if you want to shift," Numair said softly. "A shape change is out of the question for me. We must keep our food and weapons, for one. For another, I would hate to use my Gift to fly across, then need it to handle trouble on the other side."

The mage wasn't sure if he could float their belongings to the other side or if they would be instantly returned. Numair didn't really want to waste his Gift on a failed attempt.

"If we are going today, let us begin." Badger chided. "I would like to be across before anyone, or anything, else comes by."

"He's right." Daine looked up into the mage's warm brown eyes. "We'd best start walking."

He wanted to argue but the look in her eyes forced him to hold his tongue. She'd made up her mind and nothing he could say would change it. Numair gently placed the duckmole on the ground who vanished instantly reappearing on the other side with Badger.

"You go first." Daine said warily.

He squeezed her shoulder hoping the smile was reassuring and didn't reveal too much of his own nervousness. Adjusting his pack and holding his staff between thumb and forefinger, the mage placed a tentative foot onto the first plank. Miraculously the wood took his weight as the other foot joined it. He held the guide ropes tightly in his right hand and with three fingers on his left. Slowly Numair edged across the bride, stepping carefully and watching his footing. He'd really have preferred to look straight ahead and not down at his feet where he was treated to far good a view of the long drop to the thin curl of the river below. The mage felt when Daine joined him on the bridge as it shuddered and swayed even more. Numair misjudged his footing on the next step and slipped causing the bridge to shake unsteadily as he swore colourfully.

"It takes getting used to," he called to Daine, trying to keep his voice light.

"It's stood for time out of mind!" the badger used the god equivalent of a speaking spell to talk next to his ear.

"That's what I'm afraid of." Daine and Numair chorused.

The mage turned to grin at the young woman receiving a shaky smile in return. He was not happy to see his friend carrying her bow in her left hand with as dubious a grip as he had on the left guide rope. Why wasn't she wearing her weapon over her shoulder? A small breeze started up, rocking the bridge as they continued their slow progress. Numair was about a third of the way across when he heard a commotion behind him.

"Here, you two, stop it! This isn't the time –" Daine said crossly fumbling with something at her belt.

"What's wrong?" Numair twisted and called back to her.

"I don't know! It's the darkings! Enough!" she shouted.

Daine released her right hand from the guide rope causing the mage's heart to leap into his throat as the young woman stuffed, what he assumed to be a darking, into her shirt. She retook the handrail just as a gust of wind made the bridge jump. Beads of sweat began to roll down Numair's forehead as his heart raced in fear.

"Hurroks! Eleven of them!" Daine yelled pointing to the sky.

The mage focussed his attention on where she'd indicated and saw the black winged shapes as they exited a portal. Five of the Immortals dropped like falcons, headed straight for the mages as Numair set his feet and raised his staff, keeping one hand firmly attached to the handrail. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Daine kneeling to notch an arrow to her bow, another held in her teeth.

Channelling his Gift through the black opal on his staff, the mage unleashed a blast of fire at the first hurrok as Daine's arrow took the second in the wing. Her next arrow went through the eye of a third hurrok as it dropped. Numair's attention was on the last two hurroks as a black shadow moved in the corner of his vision. He didn't have time to scream a warning as the hurrok swooped at Daine from behind knocking the young woman forward. The last two hurroks angled towards the Wildmage, one exploding in a fireball as Numair unleashed his rage, the other burned in a silver fireball which came from one of the animal gods.

The next wave of Immortals dropped fast as the mage set one ablaze and Daine, who had now recovered, shot and killed the one that had attacked her. Silver fog wrapped around the muzzle of one of the hurrok's as Numair shot a fireball at another, felling it. The mage was sweating in earnest now between his own fear of falling, fear of Daine falling and heavily drawing on his Gift. If his friend was knocked into the gorge, he didn't care what happened to him, he'd use every last drop of magic to catch her and deposit her on the other side, although in all likelihood, she would shapeshift, and they would only lose her belongings.

Taking a leaf from Alanna's book, Numair threw a black sparking net, enveloping two hurroks which were spiralling down towards them. They exploded leaving nothing but ash as the badger fired a silver fireball charring and dissolving another. The last hurrok swooped down, claws outstretched at the Wildmage, who lay on her back, tracking the Immortal with her bow. Daine's shot took the creature in the throat as Numair sent a sparking wave of fire, charring the hurrok until only a skeleton remained. His heart was pounding loudly in his chest as he watched his friend get to her knees.

"Daine, may we move on?" he called anxiously.

"Sorry. Just a moment."

Numair stood still, gripping the rail tightly, trying to calm his ragged breathing while he waited for his friend to reach him. He desperately wanted to hold her but that would have to wait until they reached solid ground.

Seeing blood in her hair, the mage reached out gingerly to inspect her scalp. "You're hurt." Daine winced as his fingers touched the wound. "I'll tend it later, though. Let's get off this thing!"

Numair continued slowly keeping the Wildmage close behind him.

"I don't know, it seems a nice little bridge." He turned raising his eyebrows sceptically at her. "It never dumped us, now did it? And it could've."

The mage chuckled. "Yours is a happy nature. I confess, this is too much excitement for me."

"It could be worse. It could be raining." Daine giggled.

Numair shook his head, returning his attention to the bridge. "I wonder if that hurrok struck your head a little too hard."

"Nonsense, I couldn't have shot straight if it had," the young woman retorted.

The mage rolled his eyes but continued to walk slowly. Head wounds bled notoriously badly, and he was beginning to fear Daine may have lost a bit too much blood and was becoming light-headed. As much as Numair wanted to speed up, he forced himself to stay one pace ahead of his friend in case she fainted. His feet finally met solid ground and he spun, sweeping the young woman into a tight embrace. The mage held her close, needing to feel her safe and whole in his arms as she rested against him. Keeping one arm around her waist, Numair began to examine her head wound gently.

"We should clean this," he murmured. "Didn't Sarra give you ointment for injuries?"

"Mm-hm."

Numair half leapt away from his friend as she rubbed her nose into his chest hair. His heart hammered erratically as his blood erupted in his veins. "Stop it," he snapped. "I can't think when you do that."

"You think too much," Daine said, a dreamy look in her eyes.

His breath caught as the mage stared at the young woman in his arms. She smiled up at him and Numair was forced to conclude his friend was suffering from blood loss. There was no other explanation as to why she had done something so intimate.

"I smell water. Fish, and frogs, too." Broad Foot stated.

"Let's find it. Before something else happens." Badger grunted.

They made their way slowly down into a valley with Numair keeping a wary eye on Daine. A stream, running from a deep pool, cut the valley in two where the mage stopped and ordered his friend to wash out her cuts. Picking up a spade, he began to dig the ditch for a privy needing something to distract his mind. Once done the mage started hunting for sticks on the floor, too nervous to take anything from the trees themselves. Numair was surprised to find he had a helper when he bent down to start building a fire. One of the darkings, who had developed a golden streak in its inky black body, dragged over another stick and used its tentacles to hand it to him.

"Thank you," he said gratefully. "That's very helpful."

The darking formed a head and seemed to watch him as the mage stacked the sticks together.

"Stand back," Numair warned the blob as it moved closer to investigate.

He waited until the darking had retreated before sending a spark of his Gift to light the fire.

"Don't touch," the mage advised.

The darking had formed a tentacle and was reaching out towards the flames but retracted it when the man spoke.

"The fire is hot, and it will burn you." Or at least, Numair assumed it would hurt these creatures. The mage wasn't sure he wanted to test whether the darkings were susceptible to fire or not.

The animal gods had gone off hunting as Numair searched his pack for a pot. He filled it with water from the stream and placed it over the fire. Sarra had thoughtfully packed several cloth balls full of leaves for tea which the mage added to the boiling water. Daine returned shortly having washed the cuts in the stream.

"Come here," he said gently.

The young woman sat on the ground in front of him while Numair knelt behind her and very carefully examined the wounds for any trace of grit or dirt. When he was satisfied it was clean, the mage turned to retrieve the bottle of ointment to see the golden streaked darking dragging it towards him.

"Thank you," he smiled accepting the bottle.

As gently as possible, Numair rubbed the ointment into her cuts. The mage gasped as the wounds began to close and heal before his eyes.

"What is it?" Daine asked twisting to look at him.

"Your mother's ointment is working faster than I had anticipated," he remarked. "Your wounds are already healing."

"She said the herbs she finds here are more powerful."

Numair patted her shoulder and retreated quickly to the other side of the fire. He busied himself pouring them both a cup of tea when the animal gods returned and sat opposite the humans.

"Daine, what in the name of all the gods was going on at that bridge?" the badger growled. "It looked as if you were dancing!"

The young woman rubbed her head absently and sipped her tea. "It's these darkings. The one on my belt started glowing, then the one around my neck dropped down and started hitting it. Seemingly they were fighting, or disagreeing. And then I saw Ozorne," she bit her lip. "There was another time, when the tauros almost got me. A darking was in the water – was that you?" The gold-streaked darking nodded. "I saw Ozorne then, too, inside him," she said pointing to it.

"You never mentioned this," Numair turned his eyes menacingly towards the darkings.

"I had other things to worry about!" Daine snapped. "I thought maybe I saw Ozorne because the darkings are liquid, kind of, but they aren't, are they?"

The golden-streaked darking rose slightly and shook its head.

"We need answers. Where is the spy – in your pouch still?" Broad Foot spoke from under a log.

"Oh – and I've got another one." Daine said.

"Another –" The mage frowned not liking the suggestion their numbers were increasing.

"It dropped off the hurrok that cut my head. I think it deserted to our side."

Numair's frown deepened and he pinched the bridge of his long nose. While Daine had an uncanny knack for making unusual friends, anything related to Ozorne was trouble. Broad Foot waddled towards the Wildmage and drew a circle in the ground with his claw. He left a gap in the circle telling the gold-streaked darking and the newcomer to enter. Daine upended her belt pouch into the circle with the spy inside and the duckmole closed it. The spy darking raced to escape until it met the invisible wall of the containment circle and shrank back.

"Stand back" Broad Foot said.

The duckmole made a strange bark-croak noise as silver fire formed over the darkings until a vision of Ozorne appeared. The once-emperor-now-Stormwing looked in a bad way as he stood over a pool of water muttering. The pool shimmered and an image of Daine appeared reading a book in Numair's rooms. The mage remembered this; it was two days before they had been sent out on the mission where his friend had been bitten by the flesh-eating unicorn. Ozorne finished his spell and touched the water with his wing, shrieking angrily when whatever he intended did not work. Numair felt a shiver run down his spine at the thought of the new Stormwing trying to cause his friend harm from afar. Whirling around Ozorne grinned evilly and muttered a new spell, forming a rope of gold-edged scarlet before him.

"So he'd mastered Stormwing magic by winter," the mage whispered. "Possibly even before the barriers between the realms collapsed."

"This is months ago." Badger said. "I remember this blizzard. We don't have that many, even here in the colder climates – it was the first full moon after Midwinter, the Wolf Moon."

In the illusion, Ozorne used one steel wing to cut his cheeks and the rope surged forward and attached itself to his face absorbing the blood. The rope fell away, transforming into a bowl filled with blood. The Stormwing returned to the pool of water and drank with a wicked grin on his face. Turning back to the bowl he breathed out a red-gold mist over the blood making it swirl. Using a steel feather, Ozorne made a shallow cut on both lips flicking the drops into the bowl. The mage understood blood magic when he saw it. The Stormwing was creating a working using his own blood to bind it to him and the cuts on the lips were for speaking which he explained aloud for Daine's benefit.

"Here magical laws are what you make them." Broad Foot clarified. "He seems to have learned that better than most who are born immortal."

"I doubt he learned that at all." Numair said bitterly. "He merely wanted to do the thing, and so he forced it to happen. Subtly has never been his strong suit."

Ozorne used his wing tip to make small cuts on each ear and eyelid for hearing and seeing adding those drops of blood to the bowl. The Stormwing pointed to the ceiling and the floor making the blood expand and contract with each direction change until the liquid towered eighteen inches tall. Ozorne shouted something, and Numair cursed that the image had no sound, as the bowl broke and the contents dropped to the floor turning into many small blobs which turned black as they hit the ground.

"There you have it." Broad Foot said breaking the circle. "Your enemy made them to serve as his voice, eyes, and ears."

The three darkings didn't flee instantly, but instead huddled together and formed heads to nod in agreement with the duckmole.

"You showed Ozorne that we were at the bridge." Numair glared murderously at the blobs noticing one of the creatures had found a leaf which it wore like a comical hat.

The gold-streaked darking pointed accusingly at the one wearing the leaf.

"You'll do it again when he summons you." Badger growled.

The two identifiable darkings shook their heads while the third trembled and shrank to the floor.

"But he created you," the mage argued. Being made from Ozorne's blood they couldn't disobey even if they wanted to.

The golden-streaked darking began to tremble in an odd way as if it were attempting to do something.

"Don't be afraid." Daine soothed. "You needn't –"

"I don't think it's fear," Numair murmured bending closer.

"It's trying something new." Broad Foot said. "Wait."

The other darkings leaned towards the golden-streaked blob almost as if offering support. The gold-streaked creature stretched and expanded forming an image of Ozorne inside itself.

"Obey" the Stormwing commanded.

Ozorne's victim shrilled in pain as the three darkings started to shrill in unison until the image vanished.

"He hurts you. Is that why?" Daine asked.

An image of the Wildmage formed, from a darking point of view, as she pulled out an arrow from one of them. The image blurred and changed.

"Your leg, isn't it?" Numair grinned. "From the foot up?"

The group watched as a large hand reached down holding a piece of cheese and the mage had to stifle a laugh.

"You fed it," the badger god sighed. "Sometimes I think you'll feed anything."

Numair smiled with pride, realising Daine's kindness and generosity had turned an unknown enemy into a friend.

"You were trying to warn me, in the pond," the Wildmage guessed.

The gold-streaked darking shrank as the image disappeared and nodded to the young woman.

"And on the bridge? Your friend here – Leaf, and you're Gold-streak, and this little fellow – you'll be Jelly." The third darking continued to tremble on the floor.

"So on the bridge, Leaf was reporting to Ozorne. Gold-streak, you tried to put Leaf in the pouch to keep Ozorne from seeing where I was, but it was too late – Ozorne had already sent the hurroks. You hadn't told Leaf not to do as Ozorne bids you." Daine surmised.

Gold-streak and Leaf nodded.

Daine looked at Jelly "And you abandoned the hurrok when you saw I had Gold-streak?"

Jelly shook its head.

"Or did Gold-streak call you?"

The trembling darking nodded and shrank back to the floor.

Badger chuckled "Ozorne mastered Stormwing magic but he created the darkings here."

"Are you sure?" Numair asked. "That cave may have been in the mortal realms."

"He did it here." Broad Foot confirmed. "We gods can tell the difference."

"Here, life is forbidden to remain a slave of its creator," the badger explained. "It's why so many children and servants of gods act against the interests of those who gave them life. The darkings are forming their own ideas and ways to communicate, and they're getting names."

"They're his blood. Blood will bind anything," the mage argued. "How can they refuse when he commands?"

"I don't know but they can." Daine contradicted her teacher. "This morning I heard Ozorne say, 'Number Fourteen, report.' I thought I dreamed it, but I didn't. Gold-streak was still in my pack then, so Ozorne couldn't see where we were. Gold-streak refused to tell him!"

The darking nodded in agreement.

"That's why Ozorne sent Leaf," the young woman gasped. "Because he couldn't make you tell, and Jelly chose to be with you not Ozorne."

Leaf and Gold-streak nodded again.

Daine picked up Jelly gently. "You were brave to jump off that hurrok. Why don't you talk to Leaf and Gold-streak a bit, and hear what they have to say?"

Jelly formed a head and rubbed it against the young woman's thumb before it joined with its friends in an inky pool. Numair looked closely at his friend, seeing exhaustion in her eyes and a greyness to her skin he didn't like.

"We'd best turn in," the mage suggested. "We've had a long day."

"Doubtless tomorrow will be longer still." Daine reached into her pack and pulled out the blanket.

"We will stand guard." Badger said kindly. "Broad Foot and I have things to discuss."

The young woman found a patch of grass near the fire and rolled herself into her blanket falling almost instantly asleep. Numair smiled and collected their cups going to the stream to wash them out. The animal gods were having a silent discussion in mind-speech when he returned and dug out his own blanket. Pulling off his boots, the mage took a spot on the opposite side of the fire and rolled into his blanket. He lay their gazing at the tumble of smoky-brown curls and the slow rise and fall of Daine's chest as she slept.

What exactly had happened after their fight on that bridge? Numair wanted to put his friend's reaction down to blood loss or a concussion but even then, it would have been a strange thing for her to do. She couldn't possibly know what her touch did to him. If he was honest, that wasn't the first time Daine had nuzzled into his chest. Of course, the last time she had done that, the young woman had been asleep in his arms. It was as if Daine had an instinctive reaction to rub her face against him when she was feeling vulnerable. Numair had no idea how to feel about his friend doing such an intimate gesture when she needed comfort. He supposed he should feel honoured that she was so comfortable around him, but it was going to make things very difficult and potentially embarrassing.

Unless of course this was some sign that Daine thought of him as more than a friend. The idea seemed preposterous, but the mage felt a glimmer of hope stir inside of him. Maybe it wasn't the sort of intense, passionate love he'd had with Varice, but if Numair continued to be honest with himself, his love for Daine had developed slowly over the last several years, completely unnoticed. Perhaps it may take his young friend several more years to think of him as anything more, but they had practically lived together over the last four years. They knew each other entirely: their moods, habits and preferences almost better than their own. It did seem too much to hope that Daine might consider him as a prospective suitor, but she'd shown more of these intimate gestures over the last six months. There had been more embraces, light touches and kisses to his cheeks than he remembered previously. Numair had been so preoccupied with his own conduct he hadn't taken enough notice of his friend's behaviour.

Badger waddled towards him and huffed. "Go to sleep, mage. Some of us are trying to have a conversation."

He opened his mouth to apologise, but the animal god breathed on him, and he fell instantly asleep.